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illyrianbitch · 19 days

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Of Our Own Devices

For @erisweekofficial Day 1: Bargains

Pairing: Reader x Eris

Summary: Desperate to reunite with Lucien since his exile to Spring, you find yourself paying an unexpected price to his older brother.

Warnings: some mentions of death & injury, swearing, spitfire reader and a cunty eris. <3

Word Count: 3.2k

Part Two

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

The storm had rolled in with frightening speed.

It was one of the rarer, powerful storms of Autumn. The type that caused the sky to turn to charcoal, produced lightning that illuminated the canopy of fall leaves and made them seem like flickering, live fires.

You stumbled into the dimly lit cabin, drenched from the rain that had come pouring down in sheets. The cabin was one you had never seen before— a hidden refuge of Eris’s that you weren't aware existed. Despite its small size, it was surprisingly beautiful, furnished with deep, velvety fabrics. Eris had pulled you into the home without a word.

Crossing your arms across your chest, you turned to him, watching as he shed his outer layer and hung it on a hook near the door. He moved to the cold, empty fireplace next, and with a flick of his fingers, he summoned a flame from his hand. The flame danced briefly in his palm before he extended it toward the blackened wood in the hearth.

Seconds later, a crackling sound filled the room, bringing the fire to life and filling the space with a warm, golden glow. Eris watched the flames for a moment. Then he stood up, facing you once more.

"You promised me I'd be in Spring by tonight," you said.

Eris tsked, brushing past you as he sat himself on a velvet, red couch. His scent lingered in the air—a smoky, strong aroma. A shiver ran through your body. You attributed the reaction to the influence of the rain on your warm skin.

He didn't bother to meet your eye as he responded. "I promised no such thing. I said I'd take you to Spring tonight."

"Then take me."

He raised a brow and for a moment, you almost expected him to make a childlike comment, a brutish joke about the sentiment those words could hold outside of the context. But he didn't. His eyes, however, told you that he was thinking about it. It was unnerving, how you could read him so well, how years at Lucien's side had come with an unexpected consequence: becoming familiar with his brothers, too.

"It's a storm. Winnowing is risky in this weather," he said smoothly, voice as cool as ever. "I’m not risking both our lives just because you're impatient."

The wind howled outside the cabin, rattling the wooden shutters as you took a deep breath— in through your nose, out through your mouth. The eldest Vanserra noticed the frustration immediately, and your efforts to calm yourself dissipated as a small smirk tugged at the corners of his lips.

“I’m not staying here,” you snapped. “I’ll walk if I have to.”

At first glance, the couch appeared almost pristine, but as the firelight grew and you paid closer attention, you could make out traces of dark grey, black, and brown hairs—the hair of his hounds. The detail settled somewhere inside you. You weren't sure where.

“If you do that, you’ll either die of exposure or run into my father’s men. Either way, not a great plan.”

You froze, your hands tightening around the fabric of your cloak as you grasped your arms, fingernails digging into the material. “So my options are to stay here with you or die?”

He shrugged lazily, but the motion still held a sense of regality to it, an eerily elegant form. It made you even angrier.

“Seems so," he said, a smile forming on his lips. It was as warm and genuine as a snake’s kiss, much like the disarming charm you had come to expect from Eris.

You'd never spent this long with him alone, never needed to manage his calculated gaze or purposely chosen words without the buffer of Lucien. You would've gladly gone your entire immortal life without doing so. But you missed Lucien— your heart ached without him, longed to be near him, to have his laugh echo in your ears. And this was the only way to be with him again, even for a few days.

And Eris knew that. He knew it all. You assumed it was why he bothered to take you in the first place. It gave him the pleasure of knowing he had power– control.

Your blood boiled.

“Are you enjoying this?” You stormed toward him, standing over the couch as he stretched, clearly unbothered by the storm—or your anger. “Trapping me here, knowing I have no choice.”

“Trapping you?” He laughed softly, sitting up slightly to meet your gaze. “You came to me, Vixen. If you want to go, the door’s right there.”

The sound of the wind howling through the trees outside made his offer ring hollow. You struggled to rummage through your thoughts, through the anger, frustration, and disgust that he managed to stir in you.

The stupid, stupid nickname was all you could focus on, now. Memories of a younger you flooded your senses, memories of a younger Eris, one much less rigid, much more open, almost. An Eris you crushed on. You'd never admit the truth to anyone— that the reason you and Lucien had become so close, despite your natural connection, was because once upon a time, he was glued to his older brothers hip. And so you'd glued yourself to Lucien's.

Eventually, the years evened things out, and your feelings flowed from the eldest Vanserra to the kindest one. To Lucien.

Lucien. Your mind reminded you. This was for Lucien. Don't piss Eris off, don't ruin your chances at seeing him again. Don't engage—

"Stop calling me that, you arrogant prick."

Your hands dropped to your sides, instinctively curling into fists as Eris peered at you with a burning, amused stare. His amber eyes gleamed like a predator toying with its prey.

"I see Lucien's absence has impacted your ability to maintain that temper. Those breathing exercises not working well for you?"

Something twisted deep in your gut.

"Now that I think about it, I think I'll take my chances with the storm."

Before you could make a move to leave, Eris was standing, his chest now inches away from you as he peered down at you. You didn't move, then, only straightened your shoulders and met his gaze.

Eris wasn’t the beefy, broad-shouldered type that other males in the court might have been. He didn’t have large, bulging muscles meant to intimidate. Instead, he was a lean kind of strong, with a pointed nose and sharp features that cut through the dim light of the cabin. He exuded a different kind of intimidation, one that stemmed from his inherent authority and the staunchness of his posture. He carried himself like a prince—elegant and commanding, every inch of him a testament to his future role.

Beron was merely keeping the throne warm until Eris was ready to claim it for himself.

"We both know you're not going to do that."

You tightened your fists further. "And why not?"

"Because you aren't stupid, Y/n."

Eris cocked his head, his eyes narrowing as he studied your face with a cold, calculating gaze. His features were sharp and chiseled, the faintest freckles dotting his high cheekbones.

"You're not going to risk losing your chance to see Lucien."

He leaned down and his breath fanned your face, warm and mingling with the scent of cedar and smoke. His eyes danced across your face, moving from holding your gaze to traveling further down, lingering on your lips—on the scowl you wore on them—before he met your eyes again. The fire's flames grew larger, consuming the oxygen in the air that had already seemed to be thinning.

You said nothing as he continued, "Uncurl those fists, take that soaked cloak off, and wait. "

You stayed quiet, taking a deep breath before you stepped to the side, purposefully brushing your shoulder against his broad chest as you moved. Despite your urge to resist him out of spite, you reluctantly removed your cloak and tossed it on the clean floor of the cabin.

Eris scoffed. "Really? Must you act like a child?"

The floorboards cracked as he walked and, faintly, he mumbled something about how his hounds were better mannered. Eris picked up your cloak, dusting it off with a gentle hand before hanging it up next to his own.

"I'm curious," he began, glancing over his shoulder as he walked towards the couch. "Does Lucien know?"

You glared at him. You were growing tired now, the exhaustion of the trip slowly growing deep in your bones.

"What are you talking about?"

Eris smirked, his gaze lingering on you with a knowing glint as he settled back on the couch. "I'm talking about how you're in love with my sweet, sweet little brother."

You stiffened, a wave of emotion crashing over you—cold and awakening, a nauseating mix of embarrassment and fury.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Eris's face remained insufferably composed, a cocky grin playing at his lips. His eyes gleamed with a self-satisfied spark.

"No need to lie. It's just us two here," he purred. "I've always enjoyed how honest we can be with one another. It's why I preferred you over Jesminda."

A sharp, uncontrollable heat seared through every nerve in your body, a wave of anger surging like a wildfire.

"Keep her name out of your mouth."

It felt like a disgrace to have him say it, to hear her name immortalized on the tongue of the brother that allowed her to die. The brother that had killed her, according to Lucien. His sobs still echoed in your mind, the image of a broken male etched into your memory. You'd had only five minutes with him before he fled, five minutes of frenzied packing, desperate promises, and anguished confessions of what his father—and his brothers—had done.

Eris's gaze lingered as he analyzed you.

A beat passed.

Then another.

You were beginning to feel naked, as if he had stripped you of every defense you'd managed to muster around him. You turned away, unable to bear the weight of his stare any longer.

"I didn't kill her. I didn’t help.”

Your face went slack, caught off guard and momentarily confused. You pulled yourself together quickly, straightening your back, hoping he hadn’t noticed your reaction. As you turned a little, your face almost sad now, you could’ve sworn you saw something in his eyes—something akin to regret, maybe even compassion.

Your voice was low, not bothering to hide the sadness, mourning, the raw anger, as you responded.

“I don’t believe you.”

The trace of care in his gaze vanished as he shrugged, the same indifferent gesture he’d made earlier. “Have I ever lied to you?”

You stared at him, taking him in with the same analyzing gaze he'd offered you.

It was strange how alike he and Lucien looked, how alike yet so different all the same. But the longer you stared, the more you began to feel stuck— hypnotized, tempted to walk closer to him, to ask him what it was that went on in his mind, what caused those flickers of emotions you couldn't name across his face.

But another moment passed, and all you could see was a male who Lucien hated, a male who was selfish, who reveled in the pain caused by chaos. Your mind drifted to other rumors and stories you’d heard about him. You settled on one in particular.

"You left an innocent female to die in the woods because she didn't want to mary you. Butchering your brother's lover doesn't seem outside of your past-times."

A cold shift washed over Eris’s face. His disinterested expression hardened into a mask of disappointment, then flared into a simmering anger. It was a contained fury, like a finely tuned flame.

"Don't tell me you believe the lies of Night Court trash. Surely you're smarter than that. I know you are."

"Fuck you," you snarled. "You know nothing about me. I'm not going to let you play some twisted mind games with me. I'm not a doll."

He shook his head. "You are not."

A beat. Then a smirk grew on his lips. "But you are just as pretty as one, if we're still being honest. You're wasted in your one-sided love, Y/n."

You said nothing, turning to walk to the other side of the cabin. The corner held a bookshelf with carefully arranged volumes, a finely crafted wooden table, and a collection of artifacts on the windowsill.

Eris just laughed behind you, a sound so smooth and soothing that it felt sinful against your skin.

You resisted the temptation to snoop, to explore the cabin and bask in the rare vulnerability of the brother who had always captivated you in the most wretched of ways. It felt strange seeing him like this—relaxed, almost at ease— as if simply crossing the threshold of this modest cabin had stripped away the invisible chains and burdens only a prince could bear.

You stayed still and stared out the window, focusing on the sounds of the storm. You hoped that the rain would drown out the sounds of his breathing— sounds that rang too loud in your mind. You didn't want to know why he seemed to do that, why he lingered so deeply in your head.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

The storm raged on for a few more hours.

The time was spent in tense silence—at least for you. Eris remained on the couch, reading through a novel about the history of the continent. You would've never thought him to enjoy such a thing, to want to know about those outside of his court, of mortals, humans, no less.

And when the rain finally stopped, he rose wordlessly. With a brief gesture toward your cloak, he led you out, winnowing you the rest of the way in silence.

When you finally reached the border of Spring, a wave of relief washed over you.

The vibrant greens of the new season were almost blinding after the gloom of the storm. You took a step forward, eager to escape the tension that had gripped you for hours. You'd be with Lucien soon, be able to hug him, to tell him of all the things he'd missed in your life since his exile.

But before you could move any further, Eris's hand closed around your arm. You turned to him with a glare, meeting his glowing gaze and infuriatingly calm smile.

“Are we forgetting payment?”

You strengthened your glare, gritting your teeth before you pulled yourself out of his grasp, reaching for the small bag hidden within your layers.

Eris stopped you with a casual wave. “I don’t want your money.”

You stiffened, straightening your posture. The sounds of Spring echoed behind you, their vibrant melodies almost taunting as you lingered on the border. Eris’s smile shifted into a smirk, his eyes glinting with something dangerous, something that made you swallow instinctively.

“I’m surprised you didn’t ask sooner.”

You thought back to how he had offered to take you to Lucien, how this entire arrangement had been his idea. You should've held back, should've been more wary of his motives. But you'd been too excited, been too blinded by the joy of being with Lucien once more.

“What do you want, Eris?”

He took a moment to take you in fully, eyes scanning you from head to toe, and then he took a small step back.

“A bargain,” he finally said.

“A bargain?”

He nodded. “You will not tell Lucien it was me who brought you here.”

You frowned, a crease forming between your brows as you blinked at the male before you. Perhaps you'd heard him wrong. “What?”

“If he asks, you’ll say you bought off a hunter in Autumn, a mercenary. Whatever you’d like,” Eris continued.

You drew your brows tighter.

“I thought you'd want to revel in the fact that he might somehow owe you. Prove your power, even."

Eris shrugged nonchalantly. “Then maybe you don’t know me as well as you’d like to think.”

He extended his hand, his palm open and the gleam of his ring-clad fingers catching the light. You hesitated for a moment, body still stiff with unease, with confusion.

You scanned his face. Eris loved played games. This was no different. There was no point in reading into it. So you rolled your eyes and prepared to shake on it, reaching for his hand. He pulled it slightly out of reach.

“What now?” You groaned.

He hummed in amusement.

“And when I come to get you to return to Autumn, I want your help.”

You raised a brow. “My help?” you asked, incredulously. "How the hell would I ever be able to help you?"

Your family had no title, no powers beyond a tame ability to fight and heal. You survived in Autumn because you were ordinary—and ordinary meant no one looked for you. Noticed you.

“I want to call in a favor,” he clarified.

“What favor?"

"We'll see," Eris said with a smile and a tilt of his head. “I think you could help me out dearly."

You let his words settle for a moment. His eyes, glistening with a dangerous glow, seemed to hold something predatory, something that made the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. There must've been an underlying threat in his proposition, something sinister you had yet to notice. After all, he was a male known for his ruthlessness—

You stiffened.

He was a male. There was one easy way for males to assert their dominance, to gain pleasure, to accept payment.

You took a step back instinctively and Eris’s gaze tracked your movement before returning to meet your eyes. A shadow flickered in his eyes, reminiscent of the dark, unsettlingly soft gleam you’d seen in his cabin when he first glimpsed your saddened expression. Seconds later, his face shifted to one of mild amusement. He rolled his eyes with an empty chuckle.

“Settle yourself, Y/n. Not that kind of favor. I can bed females without resorting to bargaining for their affections,” he said, his tone dripping with condescension.

A flush of embarrassment crept up your cheeks. You looked to the ground for a moment, taking a deep breath as you regained your composure. When you finally met his gaze again, he was already extending his hand towards you once more.

“A favor in the future in exchange for this time with Lucien,” he purred smoothly. “And your silence. Consider it our little secret.”

The smirk that grew on his lips was maddening and you could feel the heat of his gaze, the flickering fire of his amber eyes urging you to comply. Every instinct told you that binding yourself to him was a terrible idea.

You glanced back over your shoulder, looking to the green, sunny expanse behind you. Lucien was there, somewhere amongst the greenery, and with a simple bargain you'd be with him again.

Without a second thought, you turned back to Eris and took his hand.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

happy eris week yall!!! rising from the dead specifically to post this lol, i fear i love this pairing so lets see if i decide i wanna write anything else for them. thank you for reading!! (i miss writing so so so much)

i might make this into a miniseries, so lmk if you’d like

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websterss · 1 month

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SECOND CHANCE — TYLER HARRISON

SUMMARY: Let’s pretend the group survives because Tyler finds out his ex-girlfriend had his baby, so Tyler decides to stay.

WARNING(S): angst, fluff, mentions of pregnancy, back-and-forth banter

WORD COUNT: 6,603

PAIRING: Tyler Harrison x fem!Reader

A/N: I hope you enjoy it! Don't ask me where this idea came from, I don't know either. Feedback is always welcomed! <3

MASTERLIST

“Y/n?” You paused mid-step as you slowly turned around to garner the attention of Kay. You thanked the vendor and placed the meal inside your bag. Her curly hair wasn’t hard to miss amongst the colony.

“Kay…hi.” You offer her a small grin.

“Oh my god, I haven’t seen you in so long. What’s it been like three years.” You didn’t mind the hug she gave you as she stepped forward.

“Four actually.” You grin with a faint laugh patting her back gently. You can’t stand to bear a second of the awkward silence so you continue. Asking the dreaded question Kay had hoped to hear from you to report back to her brother when she returned home. “H-How is…everyone? Navarro? Bjorn?…Tyler? Yeah, what’s he been up to lately?” You pocket your hands into your coat.

“Miserable, lost without you.” You roll your eyes at her exaggerated confession. “It’s true!” Her grin widens. “He can’t shut up about you not since you broke up.”

“Sure…” You hum in genuine curiosity.

“He misses you. We all do…” You give her a faint smile, it not entirely reaching your eyes.

“When’s the last time you’ve seen Rain?” Thoughts of how her and Tyler had a small thing going flooded your mind. “I haven’t seen her since I left.”

“Rain?”

“Yeah?” You nod.

“I haven’t seen Rain since her parents died.”

“Oh…that's awful.” You gape in shock. “I hadn’t known.” You muttered.

“We didn’t either till the news spread. News around here travels fast.”

“Hopefully not too fast.” You breathe a laugh.

Kay stood back watching how your posture used to be better and how your comfort showed itself amongst the people. You had never shied away from anything apart from public speaking, looking at you now was like staring at your ghost. A hollow version of what she knew you to truly be like. For her, for Kay, news traveled at lightning speed, and you try to play it off as though motherhood doesn’t define your entire being at the moment. Kay was well aware of the secret you thought you did well to keep.

“How is she?” You don’t even look at her to try and understand what she means by ‘she’. You knew you had caught sight of her curly locks all those years ago when you picked Jup up from her lessons. You close your eyes, a heavy weighted sigh leaves you as you fight the urge to cry out.

“I assumed it was you. No one else stands and lingers like a creepy stalker.” You muster a faint laugh.

“Would it have made any difference then, from now, knowing about her?”

“No.” You look off to the side. Watching as the hustle and bustle of your colony’s people flowed and moved. “I still wouldn’t have told you…or him.”

“I think you should.” Kay suggests.

“I think you need to stay out of my business Kay.” You try and shove past her, but she doesn't let up easy.

"Y/n-" She grabs you by your arm.

"He left!" You whip around in her face. "He left, Kay. He was scared to be more and he walked away and got with Rain. I don't hold anything against her for it. She'd be stupid not to fall in love with him...I fell in love with him...and yet I was stuck trying to survive and eat for two on this stupid mining colonization." Your facade falling. “She’s three Kay…She'll never get to see the sun.” Your arms fall against your sides in a slump.

"Then come with us...we have a plan. Tyler has a plan!" Kay pleaded. "But you have to tell him. You have to tell him about her!"

"I don't think I can Kay, not now at least. I got to go!"

"No wait we can figure this all-"

"Kay, I got to go." You pleaded, then took off. Knowing it was never good to leave Jup on her own. She knew to stay, but even then, if you took longer than usual, she'd wake up and begin to wonder where you were.

You had pushed through your shelter's door with a huff as your frantic mind gazed at the empty cot. "Jup baby, I'm here!" You call out to her.

"Who goes 'dere?" You whip around. The voice was far from intimidating as the high-pitched tone suddenly appeared from under a sheet on your small dining table meant for two, and two only.

You emit a sigh of relief as you lower yourself to her eye level. You tilt your head at her weapon of choice. A spoon...

"Do okay?" She wonders as she peers past your shoulder. You had taught her in a manner of speaking that only her three-year-old mind could come to grasp and knowing your baby girl she was quick to catch on. Your heart melts at the anticipation behind her eyes. The braved expression she held for you, but it was her eyes, ones you wouldn't dare admit to Kay that you missed, that gave Jup away. Where she tried to be fearless, she was still just your baby, fear hidden behind those brown eyes– like his.

"Just like we practiced..." You haul her up into your arms and press a greeting onto her cheek. "How was your nap?"

"Good..." She murmurs.

"Yeah? That's good. Hey, guess what I brought?" You gasp enthusiastically. "I got us breakfast and dinner for this whole week!" You cheer, bouncing her on your hip. She brings her hands together and claps in excitement. "Maybe, next week we can score ourselves a rare steak. Heard those are hard to come by." You set her down and begin to unpack your bag with the food you were able to trade for scraps and material you had.

While you worked, Jup sat on your bed and began to play with her stuffed toy, a black bear made up from scraps of fabric and stuffed with leftovers of some pants that no longer fit. Jup's long dark hair is tied into a messy ponytail as she mumbles to herself quietly. You smile at her playing mindlessly.

You move around your small kitchen keeping one eye on her and the shadows of those that pass your shelter. You would wonder if Tyler would show up on one random night, knocking. You'd open the door and his gaze would meet yours then slowly meet that of the little girl whose hair and eyes reflected his own. You knew you'd never truly be able to get away from him. From the inevitable introduction of a father meeting his daughter for the first time. You just hoped that if the time ever did call for it. He wouldn't hate you for it like he does fiercely in your dreams.

After a little while, it's almost time to eat, so you go over to Jup and scoop her off of the bed. "Hey little lady, you hungry yet?" You ask her as she nods her head, her messy hair bobbing with her movement. You kiss her head and set her down in her seat at the small table. You give her a little portion of her dinner and a tall cup of water, then you take your seat. You sit in silence. Small sounds of chewing as she does her best to reach the tabletop. You offer her a smile as you poke at another stale cauliflower. It wasn't the best but there was more to complain about than the food on Jackson Star.

Jup begins to drink from her cup, but her interest is piqued when suddenly there's a knock at the door. She takes a small sip as she places the cup carefully back on the table, and looks to you for reassurance.

You were slightly taken aback. You hadn't been expecting anyone. For the most part, the only person who ever came to your door was your neighbor, Sue, she lent you stuff she thinks you'd find useful for you and little Juniper. But the knock sounded different. Heavier. You glance down at Jup then haul her up the seat. You tense hearing another knock before you make up your mind and decide the small closet is your safest bet. You set her down and go to close the door behind you. "Baby, you stay right here and stay quiet, I'll see who it is, okay?" You tell her as you slowly begin to stand up.

With one last glance at her, you close the door behind you. Another knock rings out and you take a small, deep breath in. Though another glance at the table you hastily store her leftovers away on the kitchen counter.

You walk over to the metal hatch door and unlatch it slowly. It opens with a small creak, revealing not your neighbor, nor an unfamiliar face, but Tyler. Your heart feels as though it's about to give out in your chest. You were frozen in place as you took in the sight of him. He never seemed to stray from the whole dark, tall, and handsome stereotype. It almost made you want to laugh, but you kept still as your hand gripped the door handle. "Ty?"

Tyler breathes out at the sight of you. How lovely you are. How beautiful you are. He never stopped reminding you how you'd always find ways to render him breathless. Albeit, it'd get him a punch or two in the shoulder but he would have complimented you over and over if it allowed him to see you smile once more. How he wished for it now, seeing your weary-eyed expression. You were breaking his heart and all you had barely done was look at him and call him 'Ty' after four years.

He didn't know quite how to approach you now. The look he earned from you was one of exhaustion. He could hardly read you, but he'd be damned if he didn't try. Not only was the thought of talking to you after so long terrifying, but the thought of messing it up terrified him further. "Hey." He mumbled through his thick accent, his eyes scanning how you had the door only slightly open. "Mind if I come in?"

Tyler almost grimaced seeing how you had closed the door an inch more, limiting the space between you both. He knew then and there the forward approach had been the wrong approach, especially when it came to you. You instantly put your walls up around you. He could see it from your tensed-up shoulders that you wanted to get him out of here as fast as you could.

The silence was loud between both of you. He wanted to say something. Maybe a compliment would get you to crack, but he wouldn't take the risk. He wouldn't risk scaring you off. Tyler's eyes had a look in them that showed his desperation to keep you from shutting the door in his face. He wouldn't hold it against you if you did. He could tell you wouldn't let him in. "Y/n-" He began.

"What are you doing here, Tyler?"

He almost visibly winces at the tone of your strained voice. He looks past you, into your home. Tyler's gaze lands on the small table with only one setting and his heart sinks. You notice his look and your grip tightens on the door. He couldn't help it. He had to ask. "Are you…alone right now?"

The look on your face doesn't waver. You know exactly where he's going with the question, yet you can't bring yourself to shut the door. You're frozen, but you refuse to answer him. It takes everything in you to keep your cool. You bite the inside of your cheek and avert your gaze.

He had wanted to say so much to you. To apologize for the way he had left you and treated you. To tell you he had missed you and to see you again without the fear of you shutting him out. But he found it hard to find all the words that he wanted to say. "Y/n, let me in." He stepped over the threshold as your hand shot out to stop his entry.

"Y/n-"

"What did Kay tell you?" You asked with grit in your voice. "I haven't seen your face in four years, why now? What the hell did she tell you?" You shove against his chest.

Tyler catches your arm as you shove him, he's holding it between you. He's taken by surprise by your reaction to him showing up. He looks down at you with his widened eyes as he tries to come up with the words. "She didn't- Y/n, just stop." He grabs hold of your wrists, stopping you from pushing against his hold. "I just want to talk to you. Just let me talk to you." Tyler pleads. He was scared. The anger you're releasing was almost unexpected but not unwelcome. Anger was something he could deal with. Anything was better than silence from you.

"Don't lie to me, Tyler." You say through gritted teeth, trying to pull your arm back to yourself. "Why are you here all of a sudden, huh?"

"Huh?" You go to shove him again. He grabs your wrists and uses his strength to shove you against the wall next to your door, pinning both of your arms on either side of your head. You look over in time to see him kick close your door. The slam drowning out your heavy breathing. Tyler looms over you, his chest rising and falling.

The air between you is thick and charged as he keeps you held against the wall. His chest was flush against yours and he held your wrists over your head as he stared down at you. You watched his gaze move from your eyes which burned into his own. He's staring at your heaving chest, the curve of your collarbone before he looks back down at your face. His own heart was pounding, so loud it almost drowned out the sound of your own. You could only hear one another's heavy breathing.

"Get out…" You slump back against the wall.

Tyler's expression falters. He doesn't listen, of course. No, he only grips your wrists tighter in response as he leans in closer. His body pushes against yours more until there's almost no space between you both. "No." He says to your request, his voice is heavy and deep. There's a desperation in his tone. "I'm not leaving till you talk to me." His lips are close to yours and he doesn't miss how your eyes lower to glance at them. "Only if you talk to me."

"The nerve you have to show your face now-" You begin to give it to him.

He takes it as he keeps you pinned to the wall. He almost flinches at the harshness in your voice, but he doesn't say anything about it. This was nothing new. Tyler always seemed to love it when you gave him an earful. He enjoyed seeing the frustration in your eyes, how your lips would get in a pout. He watched as you opened your mouth again only he spoke before you could voice your opinion. "Just shut up for a second and listen to me damn it!"

That shuts you up for him. He almost smirks but catches himself, though you can see him almost enjoying the look of annoyance in your eyes. He didn't miss the way your eyes once again glanced down at his parted lips. "No more yelling. Just listen." Tyler mutters, his head moving slightly closer.

"You're yelling though…" You furrow your brows at him.

He almost chuckles, almost. How stubborn you still were. But he was trying to be serious with you for once. He lifts his hold around your wrists, his nose almost touching yours. "Because you're being stubborn-headed." He lets his voice soften as he looks at you.

"I think you're just being a gigantic dick."

Tyler raises an eyebrow at you now. He almost wanted to laugh at you. What he does instead is tighten his grip on you again as he stares down at you. "And you're being a pain in my arse." He responds to you with a huff. "Always have been, always will be."

"Tyler…what did Kay say to you?"

That stops him and his cocky demeanor suddenly falters. Tyler is silent for a moment, his lips in a straight line as he refuses to meet your gaze. "She said…" He begins to say but almost feels ashamed to tell you. "She said that I have-"

"Mommy…do good?"

Too engrossed by each other you had forgotten about the small human you had tucked away from sight. Her voice was small and curious. You look past Tyler, your eyes instantly falling onto Juniper.

You almost gasped, as did Tyler as both of your heads snapped to look at Jup in the moment of surprise. She was standing by the small little counter you had, still holding her stuffed bear tight in her grip. The sight of her causes Tyler to slowly step back away from you, his eyes are widened in disbelief.

"-a daughter." He freezes, and his shoulders drop as does your heart at the sight of Jup who was supposed to stay hidden, and in that moment Tyler looks back over at you. He watches you as he sees the guilt wash over your features.

You grimace as you go over and haul her up into your arms. Her head laid against your shoulder, clinging to her bear in her little hands.

"Ty, this is Juniper. Your daughter."

Tyler's mind went a mile a minute as he took in the sight of the little girl staring at him from the safety of your arms. He could see the guilt in your eyes, almost as though you were caught doing something you weren't meant to be doing. He looks down at his daughter, her messy black locks and big dark eyes. The girl was a mini version of himself. Apart from her ears, smile, and nose. She was his.

"I almost tore a new one into Kay after she got home and told me. Almost didn't believe her." His laugh fainted. "All this time?"

You had gotten her tray of food and sat her down on her chair. Juniper obliged but still kept a cautious eye on the random man in her home. "Tyler, you didn't want this." You gesture between you both. "You wanted an out, so I let you go."

Tyler couldn’t take his eyes off of the little girl. His daughter. He couldn’t believe it. He knew Kay was never one to lie about something so big, but to see it right before his eyes was a completely different story. “You could’ve told me.” He said, more quietly than he thought possible.

"You would have stayed for her. When I needed you to stay because of her, and because of me. But you didn't want anything serious, and I wasn't gonna sit by and watch you stay for a baby, not when you couldn't even look me in the eye anymore."

Those words hit him hard, almost like a punch in the gut. He wanted to defend himself. You were right. He couldn't deny that you were. He had wanted freedom, he wanted off this colony, a new life. No strings attached. But now standing there, he wasn't so sure anymore. He could've had so much more than what he had settled for. He had pushed you away and ran because he was scared of something real. And as he looked at his daughter, he could see the proof of his cowardice.

“You should have told me,” Tyler repeated, he ran a frustrated hand through his hair. He looked back at you. “I had a right to know.”

"No Ty, you didn't. Not then." You deny.

"And why not??" Tyler's voice rises. He couldn't believe it. He had a daughter this whole time. He had gotten you pregnant and ran away and you hid that fact from him for almost four years. “You decided that on your own.” He retorted back. Tyler took a step forward, his hands went to his pocket, in a desperate attempt to look indifferent. He watched as you sat down beside Jup, running a hand along her messy hair. "I should have been a part of her life. I should have been with you- Y/n, I had a right to know about her, damn it.”

"You left me. You gave me no other choice." You peer up at him through watered eyes. "I needed you…"

“And I needed space goddamn it.” Tyler snapped. He took a step back, as though to distance himself from you. But when he saw the tears in your eyes, something inside him ached. He wanted to walk over and comfort you, but he didn’t. He stood there like a jackass, watching you fight back tears. “I just needed time to think…I couldn’t breathe when I was with you. You overwhelmed me.” He admits, his shoulders slumped.

"Oh…" Your voice dies down at his words. You muster a nod before you look over at Jup watching the scene unfold before her.

She was watching with big curious eyes, taking in the atmosphere of this new man that was in her home. Tyler could see the similarities between himself in the little girl. How she looked and moved, it was as though he was looking at a reflection of himself in the small child. He watched as you smiled at her, reassuring her that everything was fine.

Tyler’s breath gets stuck in his chest as he watches how you are with his daughter. The two of you looked and moved naturally together. And here he was raising his voice wondering if she thought the worst of him. He notices your change in demeanor and suddenly, he’s kicking himself. He hadn’t meant for it to come out that way. He hadn’t meant for those words to be backhanded. But they were and he hurt you once more.

"I'm sorry." You glance up at him as he starts. "That came out wrong, I didn't mean for it to. Heat of the moment…" He palms his face. Tyler sighs his mind and heart racing. He’s hurt you by saying that. He hadn't meant it in that way, but he knew how it sounded. “Y/n, that’s not what I meant.”

"Yeah, but you still said it Tyler. Such a shitty thing to say too!"

“Yeah, I did and I’m sorry, okay.” He lets out a frustrated sigh as he runs his hands along his face again. It was frustrating. It was all so damn frustrating. Everything about this was. He was frustrated for hurting you, for saying those words and he was frustrated for having a daughter that he should have known about years ago. “Damn it-“ He mumbles, shaking his head.

"You know the more you keep swearing in front of our kid, the more bad habits she'll be likely to pick up."

That shuts him up.

Tyler lets out a huff as he looks down at his daughter. He takes a few steps towards you and Jup. He’s watching you, how you caress back her hair and keep her reassured as you try to act like everything is normal. He stops to stand beside her. He looks down at her, taking in the details of her face now that he’s up close to her. He smiles softly for her, hoping to appear as less of a threat to her.

"You're still a jackass..." You mutter under your breath, but the smirk that grows on his lips tells you he heard you loud and clear.

He snorts softly at that, unable to deny it. Tyler doesn’t hesitate to lean down and whisper a response back to you. “And you’re still the love of my life.”

You still. Frozen from the shock and complete obscurity of his words.

Tyler grins at your reaction. He straightens up, hands back in his pockets. His eyes are almost mischievous as he watches you falter. “Perhaps I should have kept that to myself.” He teases.

"Yeah, that might've been wiser." You huff with a laugh.

“Yeah, I’ve never been one to make smart decisions.” Tyler chuckles. He leans himself against the table, keeping his eyes on you. He’s watching how you still have a hand on top of Jup’s messy hair as a reassuring touch. He nods his head at the sight. “She looks like me, but it’s your ears.” He teases. "You're smile and nose."

"Well thank god, it wasn't your ears."

"Hey, what's wrong with my ears?" He says as he puts a hand over his heart, the other one goes to his ear and acts offended by your statement.

You feign a grimace.

Tyler huffs under his breath at your expression. "Oh, real mature." He grumbles as he crosses his arms, a pout visible on his face. "You never had a problem with my ears before."

You surrender.

Tyler grins at the sight, watching you throw in the towel. He takes his hands from his chest and ear, leaning himself down again so he gets close to you.

“I do mean it though. You are and always have been the love of my life."

"I'm a loss in your life, Tyler." You correct.

His head almost snaps back in disbelief at your statement. Tyler shakes his head. "No, you have never been a loss to me. You are- you have only ever been the best part of my life. I just-" He pauses as he suddenly feels himself get frustrated with himself all over again. "Damn it, can you just stop putting words in my mouth, and listen to the fact that I never stopped loving you! Even when I left to train. Even when we were over. I never stopped."

"Tyler this is crazy-"

"No this isn't crazy!" Tyler snaps again, but his tone quickly deflates as he looks to make sure that Jup hasn't heard him. He takes a breath as he runs a hand over his hair again in frustration. "It’s not. You're everything I want. Everything I have ever wanted. You're the light of my life, and I can’t let you go again. I have spent so many years miserable that-"

"Kay did mention that." He gave you a look. "Sorry."

"-I was never happy when I was away from you, I didn't know how miserable I truly was until I left."

"It's not that easy for me. Tyler, you just told me a few minutes ago that you couldn't breathe around me, that I overwhelmed you. Make it make sense!"

"You do overwhelm me, damn it!" Tyler snaps again, he stands straight now, and he can feel a rush of adrenaline suddenly running through his body. "You make my heart race a million miles a minute. You're the only person who can piss me off and make me feel like a damn fool in love. You don't take my shit and make me want to kiss you every time we've argued. You make me feel so much all at once and sometimes I can't handle it. But I don't want to feel numb anymore! I didn't know what I had until I lost it. Until I lost you. No one else makes me feel that…god not even Rain."

"Oh god...Tyler." You ran a hand down your face.

Tyler sighs as he watches you, seeing your expression change yet again. "I got my second chance right here with you. With Juniper. Us."

You tilt your head hearing his words. "Ty…"

Tyler reaches over and grabs your hand, it surprises you by the sudden touch. He gently pulls you back up to your feet, getting you to stand in front of him. He’s got a tight grip on your hand like if he lets go you might disappear. "I want us. I want you. I want you and our kid and I-" He struggles for the right words that he so desperately wants to say. "I want this family more than anything."

"You do?"

Tyler can hear the uncertainty in your voice. He hates it. He reaches up and cups your face with his hand, forcing you to look at him directly. He gazes into your eyes, almost pleading for you to see that he’s being sincere. "Yes," He answers simply, quietly. He leans in, resting his head against yours. "I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life."

"Tyler if you leave us, I will never forgive you-"

"I won’t." He exclaims. He’s gripping your hand in his like a vice. "I’m not leaving. Not this time. I made that mistake before, you’re not getting rid of me." He gently presses his forehead against yours. He’s looking at you carefully. "…do you believe me? Do you trust me?"

Your faint nod had him relaxing.

Tyler lets out a relieved sigh at your nod. He’s got all of this energy, adrenaline, and fear coursing through his body and it takes all of it to not just grab you and kiss you. Instead, he just pulls you against him and wraps his arms around you, holding you tight. He closes his eyes as he buries his face in your hair, pressing kisses into your skin.

You wrap your arms around him and inhale his scent. Your hug only lasts so long when Juniper has you both pulling away again. "Mommy."

You can both hear her soft voice and when you and Tyler pull away from each other, you see that little Jup has come to stand beside you both. Her bear and now a picture you were all too familiar with in her hands. She’s looking up at you with her big brown eyes, and her messy hair. She tugs on your shirt with a soft pout of her lips.

"What do you have there baby? Is this for me?" You haul her up into your arms. Tyler lingers behind you, watching your interactions.

Jup happily climbs up into your arms and she is careful of the picture she’s holding as she tucks her face into your neck. She’s still holding onto it tightly between her little hands as she mumbles something against your skin, but her words are muffled. She pulls back slightly so she can hold up the picture to you.

Tyler registers what is it before you can turn it over. "You kept it."

Your eyes are now fixated on the picture in your hands. It’s the picture you had taken the day you found out you were pregnant with Jup. Your hair was done, and you dawned one of your nicer shirts. Both you and Tyler were looking at each other while his arms were wrapped around your waist and his chin was resting against your shoulder. He had kept the picture in the inside pocket of his jacket for a while. Now you held onto it.

In the picture, the essence of your happiness had been captured. It was one of the happiest days you had ever felt. The month that followed after that day. You tried to forget it ever happened.

Yes, you had kept it. You’d kept it under yours and Jup's cot all these years.

"You gave it to me remember."

"I would've thought you'd thrown it out by now."

You were both silent for what felt like an eternity as you looked down at the picture, running your thumb over your faces.

"No, I couldn't." You admit, softly. "It meant too much to throw away. Besides, it's the closest thing I got to an ultrasound around here." You shrug.

Jup peers out of your neck as she watches the two of you talk, still not quite registering who this man is. “Who?” She says, with her head at a tilt.

"Jup this is Tyler, Tyler…He's your-" You peer up at him not knowing what to officially label him as.

Tyler clears his throat as he’s suddenly put on the spot. He looks at her, seeing how she looks at him with such curiosity. He feels his heart suddenly flutter again when he hears the word your, like some sort of proof of belonging.

“I’m your dad,” He answers confidently, smiling softly at her and her messy head of hair. "Your daddy." His accent coming through. "I'm here to stay if you'll have me. If your mommy will have me." He peers cheekily into your eyes, where you have to fight the urge to roll your own.

"What do you think Jup. Should we let him stay?"

Jup’s eyes go wide at the question and her interest is perked by the sudden proposal. Her head suddenly pops away from your neck as she looks at you and she nods her head, with her messy hair flailing. It was a rather eager nod on her part. "Yes!"

"Yeah?" Tyler's grin widens.

Jup nods her head. "Yes!" She confirms again, more excitedly this time. She's looking down at Tyler with those big brown eyes, and she's got a smile on her face. Tyler leans in and pecks her curls, grinning from ear to ear, knowing he has her approval. "Looks like I'm sticking around then, Jup's orders," He replies, meeting your gaze.

"Guess so, soldier."

"Guess so." Tyler repeats back, with that damn smirk of his. He can’t take his eyes off you. He’s watching you like you’re something he's finally got to have again. It makes his heart clench.

Tyler takes you by surprise when he’s suddenly close enough to touch you. He brings his hand to your neck, cupping it in the palm of his large hands as he leans in, using the leverage to pull you into him. His lips are on yours in an instant, firm and eager against your mouth. Your surprised gasp has your mouth open to his and he takes the opportunity to deepen the kiss.

You use one of your hands to pull him closer.

Tyler pulls away, breathing heavily against your lips. "I've been wanting to do that since you opened the door." His chuckle makes your grin widen.

"So stupid…" You shake your head.

Tyler lets out a huff as he grins. He cups the side of your face with his hand, resting his forehead against yours. “Damn you. You drive me mad, woman.”

"Yeah? Well, you're gonna have to get used to it around here."

"I think I'll manage. I'm tougher than I look." Tyler grins as he tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear. He's close enough that you can hear his accent through his words as he peers into your eyes.

"No, you're not…"

"No?" Tyler’s eyes were narrow as he picked up a bit of a teasing tone in your voice. "Oh, it's like that then, is it?" He says as he raises an eyebrow. "You hear this Jup, your mum says I'm not tough." He feigns hurt.

"Tuff." Jup repeats back to him. "Tuff, tuff, tuff."

Tyler grins. "That's right, Jup." He says as he gently reaches out and boops her nose with his finger, earning a little giggle out of her and the sound makes his heart warm.

"Please don't encourage her. She doesn't need to learn bad habits from her dad."

"Oh come on, she’s not going to pick up my bad habits…" Tyler glances between you and her. "Besides, she already has your cautiousness, so it's too late."

"Well, I'd rather that than have her watch your macho tough guy act unfold. Jackson Star knows I've seen enough of it."

Tyler huffs. "It’s not macho. It’s called having a backbone." He snaps back, with a tone that you know is more playful than serious. "I’m teaching my daughter to be strong."

"I think you mean thick-headed, excuse me it's time for her bedtime." You walk around him to get her settled onto the cot.

"Hey! I'm not thick-headed." Tyler protests as he gives you a look of disbelief. He glances over at Jup who is sitting quietly in your arms and suddenly he looks concerned. “W-Wait, bedtime? How early does she sleep?”

"Tyler, It's a quarter past eleven." You gesture to the hologram clock on the small counter. Tyler turns to look at it.

He blinks. "It’s that late already?" He exclaims in disbelief as he looks from you to the clock and back again.

“Quarter past eleven. No wonder she’s so tired,” He muses as he looks back over Jup. Sure enough, your daughter is fighting to keep her eyes open, and her head is slowly drooping against your shoulder. "Damn, I guess I didn’t realize we had been talking for that long."

You shift her so that her head is on the pillow you share. "I put her down early, but you showed so I really couldn't at the moment. The best I could do is get her to eat her meal."

Tyler steps to your side as he watches you gently arrange her on the cot. He can’t help but smile as he watches you make sure Jup is comfortable before you give her a soft kiss on her forehead. “She’s a big girl.” He muses, softly, as he watches her little head fall back against the pillow and the even little puffs of her breath.

"I wouldn't say that. She still needs mommy to tuck her in."

Tyler glances at you as he grins. He lets out a huff of a laugh. “I’m guessing she inherited that from you, huh?” He teases. "Does mommy need daddy to tuck her in?"

"No." You huff with a laugh, shoving his shoulder.

Tyler laughs as he rubs his shoulder. “Ow.” Despite it being a very soft shove. He glances down at you, his eyes scanning over your features. "You are just as stubborn as I remember you being. I'm telling you, love." He muses as he steps closer to you, using his height to try and intimidate you.

"Just like you remember?" You hum.

"Yeah…" Tyler slowly nods as he takes another step closer to you. He stands in front of you, and you have to have your head tilted back to look up at him. "Just like I remember. Stubborn. And beautiful. A deadly combination, I’m telling you."

"I'm glad you came." You admit. Tyler’s smile softens at your words. He reaches down and takes your hand in his, squeezing it.

“I’m sorry I took so long.” He apologizes, softly.

"Took you about four years...but who's counting." You shrug.

Tyler rubs the back of his neck embarrassed. "Yeah, yeah, I know. I’m sorry it took me a while to get my head out of my own arse." He glances at you, looking sheepish. “I’m here now, though. I’m not going anywhere else.”

"Good, 'cause if you do. I’ll throw you into outer space." You lean in and peck his lips for a sweet kiss.

“Oh, I don’t doubt you would.” A deep chuckle rumbles through his chest.

#alien romulus #tyler harrson #tyler harrison x reader #tyler harrison x fem!reader #tyler harrson imagines #tyler harrson imagine #tyler harrison x you #tyler harrson oneshot #alien romulus tyler #alien romulus tyler harrison #writings by juls #my gif

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sluttyminghao · 6 months

Text

Seventeen x Phone Sex

95 line - 96 line - 97 line - 98+99 line

♡ word count: 1.1k ♡ genre: smut - 18+ only ♡ a/n: here is the 96 line version! i hope you guys enjoy! shoutout to @bf-wonu and my friends at @svthub again for helping with this!

Junhui: This man would be insanely giggly every single time you suggest phone sex or have any conversation that leads up to it. He’s going to not be anywhere close to dominant, and may, in fact, become a little more submissive just because he doesn't know what way the conversation will end up going. Jun is going to be very whiny and tell you what to do, but he’s going to be edging himself for god knows how long because he’s addicted to your voice. Every single time you moan or whine out when your fingers touch your sensitive body, it sends a lightning bolt of want and need through his body and only makes him speed up his own hand movements. “You sound so pretty like this, wish it was me that was getting those noises out of you instead though.” I think he’s also the type to have like…a pillow he uses to fuck himself into or a fleshlight of some kind because he just needs to have his cock enveloped in something and hear your voice whilst simultaneously fucking into a fleshlight or a pillow? It would immediately send him over the edge. When he’s feeling dominant, however, i think he would definitely take action in telling you what to do, but would never tease you because he’s holding on for dear life with his own orgasm. He knows what you want and when you need it, so would get you to the edge super quickly.

Soonyoung: He’s definitely very impulsive when it comes to phone sex. You could be at home doing some work and all of a sudden he’s texting you like crazy and calling you a hundred times, and when you finally answer he’s heavily breathing and fucking himself up into his hand. Even though you can’t see him, you know exactly what’s happening and ask him what he’s been thinking about, only for him to retort back with some of the filthiest images either of you could think of. “Was thinking about how I tied you up the other day and your body looked so perfect and ready for me…and then also was thinking about that one time i made you cum so much you passed out” He would definitely also be the type to do video calls as well, and as soon as you pick up you know you’re in trouble when you see how he’s angled his phone just perfectly so that you can see every inch of him, and it gets you going immediately. Soonyoung is very “no thoughts just need to cum” and would be spouting orders for you left and right while he jacks himself off like he’s insane. He’d be telling you to strip for him, get your tits out and play with yourself until you’re both cumming, but he makes you wait until he’s about to cum so you can cum together. Immediately afterwards, he would send you photo proof of how much he came just so you know what you’re in for when he gets home.

Wonwoo: If there’s one thing everyone can agree on with Wonwoo, it’s that his deep voice would instantly have you cumming. He is definitely on the more dominant side when it comes to phone sex, he loves being able to guide you through with a stern voice, letting your whimpers and moans hit his ear in just the right way that his cock twitches. When he’s in the mood, you can tell because his voice drops at least an octave and grows raspy, which only lights the lust fire in your belly and drives you crazy. He would spill the filthiest phrases, telling you how bad he wants you and every single position he wants you in, as well as how much he wants to fill you up with his cum. He’s also definitely the type to play mind games with you, tell you that you can cum and then say things like “oh did I say you could cum? I didn't mean to, oops, now i guess you’ll have to make it up to me” or “if you didn’t cover your fingers then you didn’t fuck yourself hard enough”, and also loves using those toys you can connect to over wifi where he can control the vibrations and movements of said toy. He would make you cum so much with the toys that you grow so sensitive and he only draws it out even further for you, making you so sensitive to the slightest touches and vibrations have you moaning and clenching. His raspy voice wouldn't help either, especially so when he tells you he wishes your hand or mouth was wrapped around his cock rather than his own hand and he’d cum a lot, it’s splayed all over his thighs and abdomen and then also is wishing that you would be the one to clean it up for him. You’re just his good little whore, after all.

Jihoon: With Jihoon, it’s very common to have sex over the phone given his constant desire to want to be in the studio. He would probably have a schedule where he calls you like once or twice a week later at night, probably when he’s at his most frustrated when he’s producing or writing, and just lets his frustrations flow in the form of mutual masturbation. He wouldn’t be overly dominant or submissive, but rather just goes with how he’s feeling and how frustrated he is. If he’s been struggling for a while, he would probably go a little more dominant, and if he’s doing alright, he’d be pretty neutral. With how often you guys have sex over the phone, he would pretty much know exactly what to do and when, really has it down to a pinpoint on how well he knows you, down to your breathing patterns when you’re getting close to your orgasm. He would also be pretty easy to come undone as well, given that you can push his buttons hard enough. If he’s frustrated, you want to get him off in as little time as possible so that he can focus again. If he’s chill, then you can drag it out and edge him for a while until he finally snaps and switches to dominance. I think he’s not one to talk dirty often, and would only use it on the odd occasion where he’s feeling more dominant than normal. He’d be very careful with his wording but manages to speak fluently in dirty talk when he’s in the mood, calling you his good little slut and whore and getting you over the edge and getting you moaning which in turn, gets him to cum all over his thighs.

#sm: masterlist 2024 #sluttyhao smut #sluttyhao reaction #kpop smut #kpop reaction #seventeen smut #seventeen reaction #junhui smut #soonyoung smut #wonwoo smut #jihoon smut

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ghost-proofbaby · 3 months

Note

you mentioned summer storms with Eddie or something one day in a random post and I haven't stopped thinking about it so

can I get a midsummer's night with LOTS of 🍓🍓🍓🍓 about that? Thank you very much Ghost 💞

OH I'VE BEEN WAITIN FOR THIS ONE!!!! it took on a life of it's own, forgive me.

summer storms

warnings: honestly just tooth-rottingly cheesy. tried to add alllll the fluff. not edited.

wc: 1.2k+

come enjoy a sweet summer treat with me <3

It was your favorite part of the summer. You couldn’t stand the heat half the time, you couldn’t bear all the bugs that would make their arrival known through incessant bites you’d only notice after spending the day out, and you could cry at even the simple memory of every sunburn you’ve ever endured in your lifetime. There was a lot to hate about the summertime – but this? This was one of the good parts.

The moment you’d seen the ominous clouds on the horizon, you’d known where your night was going to end up. One howl of the wind against your living room window, and you knew your plans for the night.

All roads led to the Forest Hills trailer park when the summer storms started rolling in.

In your youth, all through high school, there’d been plenty of scoldings about how the trailer park isn’t the safest place during these storms, dear. Endless lectures on how you and your solace in the form of a best friend should just spend those stormy nights at your own house, inside sturdy walls and within an infallible AC. But they didn’t get it; there was something in the way you’d experience a storm at the Munson trailer that couldn’t compare to home.

“It’s so hot,” Eddie whines from where he stretches out on his bed, all windows thrown wide open to let the dusty and humid winds slip their way in. Petrichor and discount cologne was swirling around you, wrapping its tendrils around your ankles and wrists alike as you were starfished out on the surprisingly cleaned bedroom floor of Eddie Munson.

He’d spent the day embarking on his weekly cleaning spree – you’d spent the day holed up in Melvard’s for an unbearingly long shift.

“I wish it’d just rain already,” you murmur, turning your head to catch a glimpse out the open window. The sky was a mirage of deep tones, rusted oranges laced with all the dirt being kicked up by the winds and navy blues painting the clouds that had built up to hold all the moisture adding to the smothering heat, “At least then all this misery would be worth it.”

Eddie sits up only to throw himself onto his stomach, head hanging over the edge of the mattress to smile down at you, “Wanna bet on how long it’ll take?”

“Take to what?”

“Rain, dumbass.”

“Don’t call me a dumbass, asshat. How was I supposed to know what you-”

You’re cut off by the sound of rolling thunder, coming in waves along with a particularly strong gust of wind that makes all of Eddie’s posters whip against the walls they were pinned to. It’s enough to shut you both up as the echoes of the entire trailer rattling surround you.

“Jesus,” Eddie whistles lowly, head lifting up to look outside for a few moments. When his eyes return to yours, they're full of mischief. “Fuck the bet, wanna race?”

“Eddie, start being more specific, or fuck off,” you groan just as he leaps up, hopping off his bed with unexpected speed.

All he cries out over his shoulder as lightning strikes in the sky waiting outside is, “Loser has to wash a load of Wayne’s jeans!”

That gets you up. Not because you wouldn’t do it if Wayne asked nicely, and not because you were going to let Eddie make you do so, but simply to further chastise the boy now running away from you.

The first droplets of rain begin to fall before either of you make it out of the trailer front door.

Eddie only loses due to him slipping while passing by the kitchen, socked feet gliding out from beneath him until he grabs onto the counter hastily to prevent any injury. You pass him with a wide smile, yanking the door open hard enough that if Wayne had been home, he probably would have had a few choice words to say to you.

But Wayne isn’t home. It’s just you and Eddie, the boy who makes summertime an endless brew of storms in your chest and mind alike, and the rain.

You fly down the rickety porch steps of the Munson’s trailer just as you’ve done a hundred times before, Eddie just behind you. Neither of you make a deciding comment on who won; you’d been outside first, but Eddie’s feet hit the dirt properly just as yours did when he decided to jump right over the steps you were trampling down.

It’s all wild joy and childish wonder as the two of you begin to run about and spin around beneath the droplets that have picked up into a downpour. Eddie’s hands find your wrist, and he’s throwing you about with him, making you dizzy with absolute giddiness as gravity drags you in a wide circle. Your Melvard’s polo soaks through to the bone. Eddie’s curls begin to stick to his cheeks.

Neither of you care.

A childlike exuberance, and youthful oblivion, that you only ever feel with Eddie. You don’t think you would have let anyone else drag you out into the middle of a storm with such ease. But it’s hard to say no to him when there’s so much happiness fizzing beneath your skin, and you’re pretty sure all the thundering actually belongs to your chest as you feel his fingertips press deeper into your wrists.

You’ve loved him for a while now. Always have, always will.

It happens in slow motion. You swear somewhere between the crackling of the lightning and his crinkling eyes, you can see his lips forming the words, you’re pretty.

You didn’t hear it, though. Couldn’t have over the water clogging your ears.

“What?” you call out, leaning forward with all your giggles, trying to ignore the feeling of your bare feet sinking into the mud below.

Eddie just pulls you forward, and over another gust of wind that makes you both shiver, says it once more with his whole chest, “I said you’re pretty!”

You’re not. You’re really, really not. You’re a mess. Wet hair and slick skin, bleary eyes and aching smiles. Probably closer resembling a drowning rat than anything poetic or worth yelling to the sky about.

But not to Eddie, not as he looks to the sky, and all he can do is laugh at himself.

“I’m not pretty-” you start to laugh back, shaking your head at his foolishness.

“You are,” he interrupts quickly, his hand only leaving your skin long enough to brush back his damp bangs, exposing a forehead you’d certainly thought about kissing on more than one occasion. Running his fingers through curls you’ve tried to find every excuse in the books to play with. Scrunching up his nose that you’d pictured pressed into your neck in the dead of night numerous times as the two of you slept peacefully. “You really fucking are. It’s a damn crime, half the time, too. Always taking my breath away and shit.”

You don’t know what spurred it all on. The petrichor that had lingered in the air, the feeling of the rain on his skin, the comfort of the storm and its promise of a night spent together. But his confessions are rolling out faster than the drips racing down the windows of his trailer, and he’s looking at you with big brown eyes, and all you really know is that it doesn’t matter what spurred it all on.

All that matters is he’s said it.

“Do something about it, then,” you gasp out.

You’re almost worried the storm has carried the words away, that he hasn’t heard you, until he does something.

He kisses you, and it tastes just like the rain. Your favorite part of summer.

#summertime sweetness #ghost's stories #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #stranger things #originally i was thinking storms with sitting with wayne on the porch and watching eddie act a fool but this is what happened instead #wanna frolic in the rain with him real bad #eddie munson fluff

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grogusmum · 3 months

Text

A Dark and Stormy Night (oneshot)

werewolf!FRANKIE MORALES X F!READER

W/C: 3500ish

RATED: E (18+)

WARNINGS: well, monsterfucking, oral sex (f recieving), rough sex, unprotected PiV sex (it's a fantasy y'all you know what to do!!). As always, if you see something, say something. Message me in my DMs, I'm happy to add something I missed.

SUMMARY: You stumble into a lighthouse to get out of a storm, and meet the handsome light-keeper, who has a secret, but is irresistible.

A/N: Oberyn and the Merling was technically my first foray into monsterfucking, but that was like teenagers humping in the back of a car...this is, well, it's as no holds barred as I've ever gotten. I hope it doesn't suck, lol. Anyway wish me luck! 💚

This was posted as a multipart fic, but when I finished the second part it made more sense to be all one piece. I may write more for these two, but as it stands, it is a oneshot.

You follow a boardwalk that becomes a path as the clouds roll in, obscuring the moon. You know you need to find cover before the storm.

Focusing on the shifting sand under your feet, as the rain begins, you speed up. The skies continue to darken; soon, you reach the first rocks of the jetty while the rain comes down in sheets. Looking up, you find yourself at the base of an old lighthouse. The lens swings across the black water as it lights up the dark and stormy night for those lost at sea.

Beach rose thorns tear at your sweater as you race up the slope. Beyond, scrub pines and pin oak trees create a small amount of cover; the wind picks up, but not before you hear the baying of a wolf… no, not a wolf. A coyote, there are no wolves in these parts. But there's something different about the howl; you speed up and bang on the door of the great beacon.

"Hello?" You shout, "please! Is anyone there?"

As if in answer, another howl rings out, making you jump. After a crash of lightning for good measure, you try the latch and push the door open, willing to disregard good manners. Looking for a switch or a lamp, you find only a candle in a heavy brass holder on a small shelf and a black matchbox holder attached to the curved wall.

Running the wooden match across the strike pad, it sputters to life, and you light the candle. Slipping your finger into the brass ring of the candle holder and carrying it before you, the Gothic horror mood of the whole situation is not lost on you. With a sigh and a shiver, you wind up the spiral stairs.

"Hell-lo? I don't mean to intrude, but…" you call again and then with a chuckle in an undertone, "Our car broke down a few miles up the road. Do you have a phone we might use?"

Shivering in your soaked clothes, you reach the first level, which contains the living quarters. You can't help but rush to the woodstove, which warms the round room.

You hear a creak below as you take off your shoes and socks. Did you forget to latch the door entirely? Biting your lip in worry, you continue to listen; bracing yourself, you pull a poker from the coal scuttle.

You wait and wait. Time spins out—the only measure is your heart’s tattoo, like a rabbit's. As the adrenaline clears your system, you become exhausted. Swaying where you stand, the iron poker clangs on the pine floor, bringing you back. Deciding it must just be “old house sounds,” you move to the bed and sit, and without so much as a yawn of warning, your eyes slip closed.

In the middle of the night, you feel a weight on your chest, soft and warm. Your eyes flutter open, and blocking the light coming from the woodstove is an enormous shape pressing on you; as your eyes focus, it huffs a breath, and you recognize it as a sleeping dog sound. It's huge, with pointed ears. How did you not see or hear it when you came in? Whether a watchdog or not, wouldn’t it have come to investigate? The trunk of the animal is on you, its muzzle at your collarbone, a front leg on either side of you, fully caging you in. Your hand comes up, fingers sinking into its plush fur, like a wolf’s… you shake your head, not a wolf, of course, but those dogs that look like them. Its steady heartbeat and relaxed breathing lull you back to sleep; elk-hound, that's what the one, you think, as you drift under again.

Waking again at full light, you find yourself tucked into a patchwork quilt, your shoes placed under the stove, warm and dry, no dog to be seen. The smell of eggs and bacon draws you up the stairs, halfway up you can hear the food sizzling on the stove. You feel this need to check yourself over, but you seem fine. You fell asleep on the bed of a stranger, who is apparently back- you shake your head at how unbelievably dangerous that was. Then you remember the dangers outside… it's a calculated, if hastily figured, risk.

His back to you, in front of the stove, you presume, is the light-keeper, a cable knit sweater stretched across his broad shoulders.

"He-hello?"

He turns, soft brown eyes, brown curls standing up as though he’d run his fingers through them just a moment ago, a sharp nose that suits him, with crease of his bottom lip that accentuates his mouth’s natural pout. Not that you had any real expectations on what a lighthouse operator looks like but... maybe like some old-salt sailor type with a beard and pipe. Silly, of course. You remind yourself that you are not a cod fish and close your mouth.

"Morning," came his rich baritone voice.

"I'm so sorry, I- I - the storm-” you stumble as you try to pull yourself together.

"Don't worry about that. I hope you slept alright. "

"I did, thank you, but I- should get going." You start putting on your shoes, “ I really didn't mean to fall asleep, " ...on your bed.

“'S not problem, really; that was one hell of a storm last night.”

“I should go-”

Well,” he says, bringing breakfast to a simple pine table, “that's the tricky part…”

“W-why?”

“The roads are impassable and there's more rain on the way.”

“Oh.”

“Nothing to be done about it right now,” he says, “have something to eat.”

You begin to eat, and after a bite or two, you introduce yourself.

“Where are my manners- I’m Frankie. Spending too much time on my own, I guess.”

“Are you kidding, I burst into your house like Goldilocks! Found sleeping in your bed.”

“And was it just right, Goldie?” He smirks.

You fluster a little; he is very handsome after all, and broad and was that flirting…

“Better to be Goldilocks than Red Riding Hood, I suppose.” He says you get the feeling it wasn’t meant to be out loud. “I guess that depends on who the huntsman turns out to be…”

He notices your eyes widen and smiles apologetically, brushing his comment aside. “Sorry, like I said, spend a lot of time on my own.”

"S-speaking of Red Riding Hood, where’s your dog? It came and slept with me last night.”

“Hmmm?" Frankie murmurs as he sets the table, "Oh, he’s- around.”

“Well, he kept me very cozy last night. What a cuddle bug; what’s his name?”

“His, um - it’s Cisco. You better dig into those eggs; they're gonna get cold.”

“Right,” you take up a fork of scrambled egg, “I will be able to leave today, though, right?”

“We’ll have to see,” is all he says before digging into his breakfast.

Frankie goes about his light-keeper duties, including hunting for his lost skiff. You aren't sure what to do with your time-

“Is there something I can do to help? I kind of feel weird just sitting around-”

“Well, the weather isn't going to let us do much outside safely, but-”

Frankie pulls off his ball cap, ruffles his hair, and plops it back on his head, thinking, “I mean, you could help clean the lantern glass …”

“Really?” You stand, excited to do a real lighthouse job.

“Sure, hard to mess up… no offense, and safe.”

You take no offense; on the contrary, you clap happily to yourself, to which Frankie chuckles.

After showing you the supplies and giving you a quick demonstration, he starts down the stairs to continue with his other duties and then stops and turns-

"Thanks, Goldie," he winks and then descends the stairs.

After a time, you see him out on the rocks despite the wind starting up again from the east. He must be looking for his rowboat. You decide to scout the circumference of the lantern room, looking out the windows to see if you can see the craft.

To the northwest, you see something red against the rocks. It doesn't look good.

You step out onto the gallery. Luckily, this isn't a particularly tall lighthouse, but it's tall enough, and the iron balcony was small enough that you feel a touch of vertigo looking down. It doesn't help that the wind's really kicking up now, reminding you that this is just a break in the storm. Closing your eyes, you take a deep breath and open them.

"Uh, Frankie!"

Frankie looks up, hand going to the bill of his cap.

"Is that your skiff?" You point to the red “something” half in the water.

He hollers his thanks and jogs over to where you are indicating, and you can see his frustrated huff as his hands hitch onto his hips in a disgruntled fashion.

Cleaning all that glass takes time, and your shoulders can feel the real work of it. You stop only when your stomach screams for lunch, and you find a sandwich under plastic wrap for you, but you haven’t seen Frankie, Lighthouse Keeper, the rest of your time working on it, nor Cisco, the Lighthouse Dog.

He had brought the boat to a shed and disappeared inside it. When and if he came out, you didn't notice. You also realize you haven’t seen any signs of a pet anywhere; no bed or bowls. When you come down the spiral steps, you smell of the concoction used for cleaning the glass and lens; watered-down isopropyl alcohol and Woolight - but mostly the alcohol.

“You'll want to wash your hands with this,” Frankie hands you a bar of soap at the first landing of the spiral stair. “It'll take care of the rubbing alcohol smell and keep your hands from drying out.”

Frankie gives a crooked smile of apology at your startled jump. Murmuring your thanks, you take it and smell the bar that looks so small when in his hand. Fresh. Your mind wanders to how this fresh scent might mingle with Frankie's natural one. The bubble of revery is just a millisecond and pops like one the moment your eyes land on Frankie, who looks like he knows exactly what you're thinking.

When you join him in the kitchen, where he is again standing over the stove, the delicious scent of savory soup reminds you of coming home after a long chilly walk from school. The wind is howling now, and you can hear the crash of the waves, as high tide approaches, the pound of them like rumbling thunder. Its only rival is the whip crack of the actual thunder chasing the lighting strikes illuminating the windows.

“Where’s Cisco?”

“Weather like this he likes to be below,” Frankie says after a beat, back still turned, “I have him set up with his bed down there so he doesn’t get anxious.”

“Oh,” you feel a little more at ease about not seeing neither hide nor hair of the beast of a dog all day.

“It'll be dark early due to the storm, and I’ll have duties up above. I’m going to ask you to stay in the living quarters. I’ll sleep up there, so, um, just - make yourself at home.”

You do your best, but your mind is on Frankie in a way that makes what you would be doing at home, not at all appropriate, even when told to make yourself at home. His dark eyes, big hands... him calling you Goldie. How many times your mind has gone back to him asking you if his bed was just right, you dare not admit, even to yourself. You don't know him, you remind yourself.

Suddenly, there's a bang and scuffle. Then you hear a yowl.

“Cisco?” You go to the door, preparing to go down to where you assume he's been set up, but a second sound confirms it's coming from above, not below… where Frankie is.

You turn and look up the spiral stairs. “F-Frankie?”

Your foot hesitantly lands on the first step -

“D-did Cisco follow you?

More shuffling and a loud thunk on the floor bring you up short. Frankie asked you to stay below, but maybe he hurt himself, or Cisco made his way up there and was scared of the storm. Your feet start moving again up the winding steps.

You pause, your head just above the landing, eyes adjusting to the strange light of the lantern room. Instead of finding a dog, on the floor is a pile of clothes, folded neatly, with Frankie's cap placed atop it. As you look up, you see Frankie from behind, sitting in the one chair the room affords. His skin gleams with a layer of sweat, and he gives a sudden quake.

“Frankie! A-are you alright? I heard-”

His head whips around and then down as you are still only partway up the stairs.

“I told you to sta—” the lightning flashes, and you see Frankie's eyes have changed. They are no longer warm, sweet brown but glowing amber.

“Wh- you- you're-” Everything in you screams to run as far away as possible, but when Frankie contorts in a new wave of pain, you scramble up the stairs. He almost wails in despair as you approach the chair. “Frankie, what is happening? How can I - hel -”

“ C-can’t, go G-gold-ie, please!”

“I don’t understand, Frankie. What’s happening?”

The light-keeper takes a steadying breath as if fighting every molecule of his changing form, Though he knows it’s too late. Too late to shield you.

“C-come here,” he breathes.

Lighting flashes again, the boom of thunder right on top of it. When your eyes adjust yet again, you go around the chair to face him. Frankie takes your hand; long claw-like nails have sprouted, and you have cottoned on. Frankie is -

While he has a firm grip, he causes no pain. Your brows knot as he pushes up your sleeve.

“I will remember,” he says, as much for himself as for you. Then he presses his nose to your wrist, inhaling deeply, and his eyes flick up to yours. The storm rages, the lens does its steady turn, and Frankie continues to smell you. He stands, eyes never breaking contact, his bare skin glistening in the light.

You had tried not to look down at his body. But he's so close, and when he stands, your resolve breaks. Frankie is strong and somehow more broad across the shoulders than when in the confines of his fisherman’s sweater but has a trim waist. His Adonis belt is so enticing, as is his soft belly. Below that, his uncut cock has an enticing curve. Your eyes travel back up. You find his waiting for yours; he lifts his head away from your wrist and pulls; you stumble a step closer, and his face burrows into your neck. He breathes in your scent.

“Didn't harm you last night, I won't… I’ll remember, promise. You smell so good, Goldie.”

The warmth you feel low in your pelvis is combined with a shiver as you clench on nothing.

“S-so, you-your…” you stammer as his clawed hands wrap around your waist; he tastes your collarbone, licking a long stripe as he finds his way below your ear. Your knees buckle, but Frankie has a firm grip on you. “Cisco?”

“ ‘m ssorry,” he slurs, his nose nestled where your ear and jaw meet. “You taste as good as you smell, Goldie… I wonder-”

What Frankie is wondering is interrupted by a long canine whine as he pulls back, face contorted in pain as his teeth elongate into fangs.

The blood has surely left your face, and you're shocked as you become aware that it has rushed to lower regions. You can feel the wetness between your legs, and Frankie, closing his eyes, breathes in how your scent has changed.

The sinful look he gives sends more heat between your thighs; you know you're soaked by now. You can still see the handsome light-keep though his eyes glow, his ears are now pointed, and his hair is shaggy. A hungry tongue moves over sharp teeth. Teeth made for tearing your throat out.

The next thunderclap shakes the lighthouse, and it's only then that he breaks his grip on you. He cries out as his body continues to transform. It snaps you out of your trance. You run down the iron stairs, passing the kitchen, down to the living quarters, and you're brought up short by a full wolf bay sounding from above.

“What am I doing? What am I doing!?” you look up the stairs, and almost against your will, you look through the doorway to the bed—the bed where Frankie had lain atop you as the wolf. Then your eyes drift upward again, biting your thumb in indecision. Or perhaps fear at the decision you're apparently making. You slowly undress, leaving the door open; you spread out on the soft bed and wait to see what happens.

How much time before you hear the click of canine claws on the treads of each step, you aren't sure. You only know the twist of arousal you feel arches your back, and Frankie hasn't even touched you. Are you afraid? Not as much as you think you should be. It's there; this danger lights up your brain and sends adrenaline coursing through you. But he didn't hurt you last night, and he said- he-

The wolf growls around the door; he is not on all fours but hunched, one front paw occasionally touching the floor.

“F-f-” you stammer as his front paws press heavily on the bed. He is enormous, and he hulks over you. His snout investigates every crease and crevice. You close your eyes as he noses at your mound. “-fuck.”

The wolf's tongue dips between your legs, and you gasp as your legs open like an involuntary response, and Frankie seems to seize the opportunity to open you further, pawing at your thighs, opening them, holding them where he wants them. Claws press on your sensitive skin as he laps at you.

“Frankie!” Your fingers dig into the thick, soft fur as the twist in your womb tightens and you pulse.

How much of the man is still present, you have no idea. You are, of course, banking on it, and you figure praying to every deity that he is there, keeping the beast from tearing you to shreds, can't hurt.

You can feel the rumble from deep in Frankie's throat, and when his long tongue breaches your pussy, he is immediately rewarded with a gush as lights pop behind your eyelids and the coil in your belly snaps.

You cry out, and he drinks sloppily at your entrance. He doesn't stop until you start to come down from your high, your chest’s rise and fall finally slowing.

Then the beast towers over you, his cock weeping. In one swift move of inhuman strength, he's suddenly flipped you onto your stomach. His large paws holding your hips, he brings your backside up, and in one fast motion, he's sheathed himself to the hilt.

As ready as his tongue had made you, you still are stretched beyond anything you've ever experienced. He is deep inside, and his snout nuzzles into the juncture of your neck and shoulder, making you feel utterly consumed by him. His brutal pace lifts your knees off the bed when he begins to move. His rhythm takes your breath away, his length hitting that delicious spot inside you that most find elusive, and it isn't long before the telltale swell of another orgasm begins to crest.

When you clamp down around him, he howls, and you know he has come right along with you. His rhythm stutters and slows. Frankie's tongue lazily drags over your shoulder blade, and he whines as his nose nudges at your hair. As you both float back into your bodies, opening your eyes, the round room is drenched in moonlight. The storm has passed.

The beast allows you to roll onto your side before covering you again, as he had the night before. He gives a chaste lick to your cheek, and you huff a laugh, wondering if you will even be able to look him in the eye in the morning. But you're too exhausted and drift to sleep before shame can take its turn to feast on you.

The morning sun blazes as it has a way of doing after a storm; shorebirds herald the day, and again, you wake to the smell of breakfast, sausage, coffee, and eggs. You're again tucked into the worn but well-cared-for quilt. Your eyes rove the room as you try not to overthink, and just as you reach for your clothes (which are neatly laid out at the end of the bed), Frankie, the man, comes in with a tray heaped with food—the smell of his delicious cooking filling the room.

“ ‘Morning, Goldie.” he smiles shyly. His eyes are not quite meeting yours, and he keeps himself busy with the breakfast tray. You return his smile, somehow his sweet bashfulness making you feel less self-conscious-

“G’morning, Fran- Fran-cisco!”

Brown eyes sparkling in response to yours becoming like saucers, Frankie's smile widens.

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#werewolf!frankie morales #lighthouse keeper!frankie morales x f!reader #tw monsterfucking #werewolf!frankie morales x f!reader #frankie morales x f!reader #frankie morales #pedro pascal character fic #frankie catfish morales #francisco morales

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writingoddess1125 · 10 months

Note

Can you do a part 2 of luffy finding out he has a kid with u like how you did with Zoro?

Of course Darling!

Support me On Ko-Fi

Luffy x FemReader + OOC Aoi

- You sat at the resturant table, your cheeks red as you carefully balanced Aoi in your arms and tried to make as little eye contact with the crew as possible. In short it was Hella Awkward.

"(Y/N) You're coming back with the crew right?" Luffy blurted out, ignoring or just not caring about the awkwardness.

"W-What? that's the first thing you want to ask?" You blurt out confused still holding your son as if Wanting him to bring up th elephant in the room, the rest of the crew sighing at their Captian who smiled and nodded.

• Luffy would absolutely ADORE Aoi!- It was like you made his new best friend for him.

"I don't think I can- I mean clearly things have changed and I have to take care of Aoi" You said softly, Luffy looking to the baby in your arms who looked up at you when you said his name.

"Aoi comes too-" He said bluntly, As if not a suggestion. You blinked in surprised and sighed-

"I don't think so Luffy- he is way too young and I do want you there for him but on a ship?"

"Why not a temporary solutiom- Like a few months shared custody half on land half on the ship to see how he does?" Robin calmly suggested, You hesitating at the suggestion. But not seeing something wrong with it either- Luffy nodding at this- You now seeing that Luffy hand managed to slip Aoi away from you and was now holding the happy toddler in his hands.

The two smiling at each other, looking identical to each other and giggling. It made your heart clench and you looked down in defeat-

"Well- Alright" You said hesitantly, unsure of what this ment but couldnt say no to your Captian either- unaware of the new twinkle in Luffys eyes when you agreed.

• Spending hours with him, It was truthfully very amusing. Seeing how paternal Luffy could be- Still his usual child like self but you could see how careful his eye was in watching Aoi doodle around and quick his hands were in catching the boy and bringing him back.

• Luffy was never so greatful in having his Gum Gum abilities before- Aoi was so full of energy and quick that he was sure that the boy could speed past him and off the ship if not careful.

• Having bungeed Aoi back into his arms at lightning speed.

• You also noticed Luffys attention to you as well. Spending the days watching Aoi but at nights the crew wanting time with the new baby- Which left Luffy spending nights with you.

• "Ha! You're fast!!" Luffy laughed, Aoi giving the same laugh as his father used him Gum Gum abilties to pull him into the air and act as a living trampoline

• The two are ADHD low braincell boys that spend hours eating, laughing and playing.

• "SAHI!" Aoi squealed out loudly, Seeing his favorite blonde who laughed at this. You knowing at this point to just hand over the toddler to the chef who would steal your child to the kitchens.

• The crew are so happy to spoil Aoi- From more toys then you could possibly fit in your home to more food then you thought possible.

• When they discovered Aoi had his fathers appetite it was fair game-

• Aoi practically abandoned You and Breastmilk once Sanji started feeding him.

• Sanji adored the kid and fed him better then the rest of the crew it seemed- Your son practically falling in love with Sanji who was his new favorite person.

- "Please come back (Y/N)-" Luffy Said softly, looking to you as you watched Robin kiss Aoi's rounded cheeks as he giggled happily. The two of you standing on the docked ship and looking down below at the crew-

• Robin read Aoi to sleep most nights. The toddler cuddled onto her chest as she rubbed his back and read any and everything to the toddler-

• Usopp doing the same, telling stories and using baby toys as props to make a puppet show for Aoi. Who always loved it and spouted random sentences and inputs to the story which Usopp would gladly take on.

• Chopper- Oh Poor Chopper. Aoi thought he was a stuffed toy, so has often tried to grab the little reindeer and cuddle him or chew on his fur.

• "Ah! So much slobber!" Chopper cried out as Aoi giggled at the doctor and tried to reach out to Chopper once again who had managed to escape the iron hands of the baby.

• Nami bought so much stuff for him- You had been worried at first thinking she was going to charge you with her insane interest rates. However she expressed clearly that these were gifts for the baby and free of charge.

• Zoro was the nap time buddy. Aoi often asleep on the Swordmasters chest or arms and snoring away on him-

• The Swordman knowing almost expertly how to handle the small child. Often giving tips to Luffy as well-

"You're apart of my crew- As I said before you belong here with us. You're family... More then you know" He said softly, Warmth hitting your cheeks as he reached a hand forward and messed with the hem of your shirt fondly- Something he would do when the two of you cuddled together.

"But Luffy- I would be holding you back" You said softly, looking to your Captian. Luffy shaking his head and waving off your words.

"What about Aoi?"

"He's coming with us of course! I would never want to leave him behind! He's apart of the crew as well and I want him around all the time!"

You were shocked by his willingness to have a baby on the crew, Giggling at this and shaking your head.

"Really? And what would his role be hm?" You mused, Luffy Grinning widely.

"Why a apprentice of course! Best there ever was" He said, his eyes softening at you as he continued to mess with the hem of your shirt. You could tell he had been cleverly wooing you back with the evenings together.

You could never say no- Especially at that Goofy smile and eyes of his.

"Well with that, How can I refuse?" You said softly, Luffy laughing happily and wrapping his arms around you and spinning you happily.

Bonus!

Monkey D. Garp

When Garp learns he has a Great Grandson- He laughed. Hard- Feeling like it was deja vu all over again from how he learned of Luffy and eventually taking him in.

Garp won't meet Aoi till later in life when hes about 3- And when he does he just laughs loudly and picked up the child.

"So You're the one I've heard about!" Garp announces loudly, Laughing at the confused look of Aoi. "You're old!" The toddler yells, making the Marine laugh. While Aoi looks and acts like Luffy- They are two different people and it shows.

• Aoi turns into Garps shadow-

• The two exploring the island together- Aoi finds the harshness of Garp fun! The toddler laughing at almost everything-

• Being tosses into the forest of Monkeys or across the island the child just laughs hysterically. Like he finds pain- Funny?

• "I WANNA BE LIKE GREAT GRANDPA!" Api announces when his visit was over-

#x reader #one piece #one peice x reader #one peice live action #monkey d. luffy x reader #luffy x reader #one piece luffy #straw hat luffy #monkey d. luffy #luffy #op luffy #dad!luffy

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howtofightwrite · 7 months

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I've got a world-building/combat question. I have these two warring nations in my setting, both medieval-ish tech levels. One of them figures out how to make magical flying craft that are basically WWI airplanes. The other country invents dragon riders in response. Since then, they've been at war for ~60 years. I'm trying to figure out how the heck an air force would alter medieval combat strategies. If you've any suggestions, I'd appreciate it

The first, and biggest world building problem is that magic is part of your overall tech level. Ironically, Diskworld is an excellent example of how magical technology can basically function as an alternate path for social and technical development, though, honestly, a lot of high-magic settings tend to have tech leakage from magic.

One of the more common examples that comes to mind are “magical radios.” Either it's an enchanted device that allows person to person communication, or it's direct telepathic communication, but whatever it is, it serves a fundamentally similar role to a handheld radio, or (depending on how it works) a phone. The thing is, it's functionally a magical replacement, and it would affect society in much the same way those technologies have.

This is a long way to say, if your magical combat technology has WWI-grade planes, there is a very real possibility that a lot of your warfare is also going to be at a similar magi-tech level, if not more advanced. Having written that, I'm reminded of The Red Star comic series; though, that has a heavy Soviet aesthetic, and is not-at-all medieval.

Again, it doesn't really matter if you have fully-automatic firearms, or if you have a bolt thrower that conjures and propels crystals at hyper-sonic speeds into your foes. If they have a similar rate of fire, and similar accuracy, the meaningful change is texture. Your characters might see tiny crystal fragments shattered on the floor, or embedded into walls, instead of bullet holes. There may be no smell, or conjuring the crystals might leave a different odor. A handheld lightning projector might leave scorch marks, and a scent of ozone, for instance.

Magic might also factor into armor and defenses. If you can use a magical ward to dispel conjured objects, that might be extremely useful for fortifying specific targets against incoming conjured attacks, but it would likely be wholly ineffective against the lightning projector, or some other kind of directed energy beam weapon.

“Inventing,” dragon riding as a response to someone else making a magical airship, does strike me as an odd cause-and-effect. If dragon riding was that easy, it would seem likely that someone would have militarized them long before that point. Inventing flying objects that could function as a hard counter to dragons feels a little more natural. Or, magical, AA installations. Though, this is something that could probably be finessed, if you're really committed to the setup. It's also worth remembering that air superiority is an extremely potent advantage, even if you're not sure what to do with it, meaning that if one side suddenly had fliers, and the other side couldn't come up with a counter in short order, they'd be picked apart, and the war wouldn't have this 60 year timescale.

If it seems like I went to ranged weapons very quickly, there's a simple reason. You can't joust from a plane. Your options are to either propel objects at people, or drop things on them from above. Dragons also (usually) have the option to breathe fire on them. Now, firearms did exist in the late medieval era. So, that's not that far out of range. I'm less sure of the invention of bombs. At least, of the variety you could deliver to your enemy on the battlefield. Though, it occurs to me, you could probably use a catapult or trebuchet to deliver an explosive payload, if the explosives were stable enough to survive launch, but sensitive enough to detonate on impact. (Of course, if you have some kind of magically primed explosive, that stays stable until it is ejected from the catapult, and then explodes on impact, that would work.)

Looping back to the timescale again, this would require some pretty potent defensive capabilities. A dragon, with the ability to breathe fire, and the capacity for strategic thinking, could easily starve out an entire kingdom, simply by making a habit of torching all the cropland it could find. It doesn't, particularly matter if it gets all the food, so long as it torches a meaningful percentage of the available crops. When you have farmers going hungry, you're going to see food production dipping, exacerbating the problem. When you have soldiers going hungry, they're not going to be able to fight as effectively. When you have the peasantry going hungry, you're going to see civil unrest, and probably rebellions coming for their lord's head. You can't wage a war against a hostile nation under those circumstances. (In fact, there were multiple peasant revolts during the Hundred Years War, which basically stalled out France's ability to fight. England also suffered multiple peasant uprisings at roughly the same time. Though, those were motivated by taxation, which ends in a similar place.)

A related concept that's somewhat hinted above, is that wars are expensive, and both France and England found themselves facing uprisings because of taxation needed to support the ongoing war. (The irony being that both nations encountered this at roughly the same point in history. Roughly 40 years into the war.) A war that's been going for 60 years will likely have ravaged the economies of the involved nations. This isn't necessarily something that your characters would be aware of, unless you expand the context to show non-wartime economies.

The simplest explanation for why this happens is that any money you spend prosecuting the war are products that you never see returning value from. The money itself doesn't leave the economy, but the natural resources, and labor required, are expended non-productively (from the perspective of economic growth.) So, if you have a peacetime merchant, they're moving money around, but they're paying for their goods, and then those goods are going to consumers, who may also be contributing to economic activity with those goods (this even applies for food, you can think of that as a necessary component to any productive activity.) If you're a wartime merchant, selling weapons to the military, you are contributing to economic activity when you buy the weapons, but when they're sold to the crown, that's no longer productive. Those weapons leave the economy and never return. Worse, any soldiers who are permanently wounded, or killed, are also removed from the economy. Over time, this can destroy the most prosperous of nations. (To be clear, this is more advanced economic analysis than anyone in the middle ages would have had. So, the idea that wars are expensive was understood, but the exact reasons it slowed the economy were not.) And, this kind of thinking is another form of technological advancement. Ideas for understanding complex systems have become more intricate and detailed over time. While it's not the concept of, “invention,” that you might be used to, it is a similar form of progress.

So, how would this look in your world? There's a lot of potential consequences, most of which are not contradictory.

An impoverished lower-class is very likely. Whether that includes wounded veterans or not is a little more up in the air, though after 60 years, military pensioners, and those who suffered life-altering injuries on the battlefield are likely to be a common sight, either on the street or in the poverty line. (Especially if the crown is willing to enforce drafts and conscription.) At this point, that might be a very real possibility.

A struggling aristocracy is also likely, with former major power players who've declined into poverty. This might take the form of borderline abandoned estates that have been taken over by the crown or squatters. (Probably not both at the same time.)

Serious inflation is likely (and could be why formerly stable guild members, merchants, and even some of the aristocracy might now find themselves struggling.) I realize this point isn't something most really think of when you're trying to write a fantasy world, but it's worth considering. More likely this will be seen in food prices having increased over time. So the major symptoms you'd likely see would be decaying structures that no one has the resources to maintain, rising food prices, and generalized poverty. Even in a fairly magically advanced setting, a lot of these things would, likely, still happen. Of course, if the dragons have been used to destroy the agricultural base, things would be even worse in that nation. To be clear, food and taxation riots are not off the table there.

This is sort of a non-sequitur, but if you have a setting with classic transmutation (lead, or other base metals, into gold), you would actually see inflation with every batch of transmuted gold hitting the market. It's sort of an amusing note on the fantasy of being able to produce as much money as you want, but ultimately, it's actually harmful from a macroeconomic perspective. (Basically, the same reason counterfeiting is a problem.) Though, it is a possible hook for criminal groups in one of those nations, producing counterfeit gold via transmutation.

There's also a real world example from 2020, where a jewelry company had fabricated “fake,” gold bars as collateral to secure loans. In total, they claimed to have 83 tons of gold used to obtain loans worth over 2.8 billion dollars, from 14 different creditors. Except, when they defaulted on those loans, and were forced to hand over the gold, it was discovered that these were in fact gold plated copper bars.

I realize the question was about the flying forces specifically, but so long as that advantage is dealt with quickly, and neither side is able to monopolize air superiority, that's not going to change nearly as much as having that level of magical advancement would on its own, and of course, the general consequences of having a war that's been going on for long enough that multiple generations have died on the battlefield. That's going to a bigger effect on your world as a whole.

-Starke

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#writing reference #writing advice #writing tips #how to fight write #starke answers #Starke is not a real economist

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silverflqmes · 5 months

Note

Any HCs for Sephiroth with an s/o that's afraid of thunder? 👀💖

໒⦂ 𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐏𝐇𝐎𝐁𝐈𝐀 𝐇𝐂𝐒.

notes. hi hi, i did my best to compile some headcanons, personally i think sephiroth might also be scared himself, so a little comfort will go his way too :’)

genre. hurt + comfort

sephiroth x gn!reader.

⌗ the fear of thunder and lightning, otherwise known as astraphobia, is commonly shared among most and completely understandable to sephiroth whenever you find it in yourself to tell him.. unless you give yourself away on accident.

⌗ i feel that due to his enhanced senses and of all the bullshit hojo put him through, he might have developed a sensitivity to loud noises and flashes — but he has learnt to grit his teeth and bear it.

⌗ on some nights it can be a little harder for him, but he feels at ease if you are around and does his best to protect you since you are suffering from the same — if not, worse.

⌗ if you take it upon yourself to speak up about your fear, rest assured, it’s a judgment free zone. sephiroth neither has the place to judge, nor does he shun you for it because he understands it well and wishes to do all that he can to help you through your fear.

⌗ if you have difficulty telling him, trust me with how observant he is, he’s likely to put the pieces together pretty easily. but even still, he will wait until you are ready to tell him.

⌗ but if a thunderstorm comes and you have failed to do, he will take matters into his own hands and at the minute he catches wind of your discomfort.

⌗ it could be a flinch, the tiniest whimper, you ducking to cover your ears or a haphazard excuse to leave the room — but sephiroth will know.

⌗ he would give you a moment if you left the room, but when he doesn’t see you return, he will approach and either join you wherever you are hiding, no matter how small the space is ( this man will cram himself in there like a cat don’t underestimate him ), or pull you into his hold for you to hide in his chest while he soothes your shaking body with his touch.

⌗ from the day he discovered your fear, he would regularly check the weather, making sure to be home whenever a thunderstorm would take place to comfort you through it.

⌗ if he’s away or cannot be home on time from either a mission or meeting, he’s got you on speed dial and keeps you on call for however long you need.

⌗ if he cannot call you at all because fuck shinra sometimes ( all the time ), he took it upon himself to buy you one of those weighted anxiety plushies — or even a normal plush for you to cuddle to feel safe. personally i’m uh.. thinking a gray kitty with cerulean colored eyes to remind you of him :’) so that you feel like he’s still there in a sense.

⌗ another thing is maybe audio recordings of him ( probably just random stuff about his day and sweet nothings ) for you to listen to if you need to hear his voice in the case again, that he cannot be there or phone you.

⌗ throughout a thunderstorm, he would do his best to take your mind off it and make it a little more bearable if at all possible.

⌗ me personally, i like rain but i’m no good with thunderstorms that come with strong winds — the sounds give me a bit of ptsd, especially if i’m on my own. but i try to do things to take my mind off it, which i will list through sephiroth<3

⌗ thunder is a sound which can be solved by playing something over it. whether it’s a show, movie or music, even conversation — you bet your boyfriend is providing whatever he can to mask the unpleasant noises outside.

⌗ rainy days can be nice to get all bundled up in blankets with tea, hot coco or coffee — any warm beverage that you personally enjoy, and sephiroth is willing to use that as a way of making the storm a little easier to handle. pairing the experience with a good book or poetry is also nice — certainly if he offers to read to you. goodness his voice is so nice..

⌗ furthermore he has the curtains pulled in your shared apartment if you find it easier not to see what’s happening outside and he takes it upon himself to make homemade soup for dinner<3

⌗ when the storm drags into the evening, he takes you into his arms and holds you as tight as he possibly can, shielding you from the world beyond his windows.

⌗ even as you tremble and tears prickle at the corners of your eyes, you can hear sephiroth humming, the gentle and steady pitter patter of his heartbeat as he smooths a hand down your back. gradually, it relaxes you and your eyes begin to get heavy.

⌗ you hold on tight to your beloved, allowing his protective hold to envelope you wholly as you at last give into sleep, aware that he would keep you safe throughout the evening and remainder of the thunderstorm.

⌗ bonus for sephiroth.. on the rare occasions that his own fear gets the better of him, you do your best to muster whatever courage you can throw together and hold him closely.

⌗ you card your fingers through his silky hair, allowing him to bury his face in either your neck, shoulder, chest — wherever he feels most comfortable — as you rub his back as tenderly as possible, vowing to be there through the very end as he has with your moments of fear.

notes. i may have gotten a little too detailed and indulged a little more than i should have.. but i’m hoping it’s to your likings, tysm for requesting again<3

↳ return to main masterlist . request rules . send an ask

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marleysfinest · 3 months

Text

blame @neiptune for sliding into my dms with this out of nowhere and plaguing me with thoughts of teasing and begging. this is not proofread and I am isane.

gojo x fem reader. cw spit mention, teasing

when you crawl into bed at knocking on midnight, you half suspect that satoru will come knocking right as you fall asleep. he has a bad habit of waiting until you're right on the brink of sleep, dozing in and out of consciousness as you slowly drift to sleep, before making his move. his explanation? it makes you "cuter" (you know, in fact, it's because you're more malleable in this state of almost-slumber). he's in his office, fingers tapping away as he either burns through his inbox or has yet another stab at writing his "memoirs", you're not sure, and you find that you've become fond of this muffled typing as he works into the small hours. you wrap yourself in your duvet, head burying itself against your pillow and immediately feeling the weight of sleep descend. until, that is, it's halted.

like clockwork, satoru tip-toes into your bedroom and slides into bed, slotting himself against your back like a puzzle piece. his slender arm snakes around your waist and pulls you in tightly, trying (and failing) to be discreet in his intentions. you come round to the feeling of his warm breath on your neck, his slightly chilly palms resting on your stomach, and his hardening cock against your ass.

with a mental eye-roll, you fidget beneath him, but his hold on you is made of iron.

"you awake?" he whispers, knowing full well that you are. you grunt a reply, attempting to match is apparent playfulness, and keep your eyes firmly shut.

"c'mon," he whines, gently tugging at your waist, "I know you are. I can't sleep..."

his ability to be so brazen is never lost on you. there was something about it that was to be commended, how he was staunch about what he wanted and would do anything to get it, even lie a lie whiter than the hair on his head.

"I'm tired, satoru," you croak in return as you nuzzle deeper into the pillow, only semi-meaning it, mostly just playing along to see how he reacts. to see if he will be the one begging for once.

"then let me send you off to sleep," he purrs, right in your ear, "just the tip, I promise."

with a sigh you roll onto your back, bringing you face to face with your needy beau. with lightning speed he climbs atop you and shifts your legs apart with one knee before resting himself between your legs. it's in moments like this that he's almost tender, romantic, eye to eye and chest to chest, nothing between you except hot air and whispers as your skin bristles beneath his touch. he runs a hand through your hair, pulling stray strands away with an otherworldly gentleness before adjusting himself and just entering you. he leans in and stops the groan about to leave your lips in its tracks, kissing you with meaning as he lets you adjust to him.

your tongues dance around each other, all the while he's abiding by his plea, refraining from filling you completely. he guides your hands so that they rest on the pillow on either side of your head and entwines his fingers in yours, eagerly lapping up the building spit on your lips. his hips grind back and forth with care and attention as he focuses on not losing himself in you completely, knowing that his ultimate goal is to tease the whining, mewling kitten out of you that he knows is there.

he's so sloppy and firm, and once again you feel yourself losing to his sheer willpower. the tip of his cock easing in and out of your entrance, stroking your clit with every thrust soon sends you into a haze that begs to feel him inside you. to feel his top against your cervix again and again before lacing it white.

"please," you whisper, trying to free your hands from his, "go deeper."

his eyes glisten as he looks down at you, silently marvelling how he can make you like this every time. his grip tightens.

"what for?" he asks, "I thought you said you were tired. I don't wanna overwhelm you."

you instinctively arch your back as you whine like a scolded child, much to his amusement. he doesn't cave when you try to thrust your hips up to meet his, no matter how good it feels when your folds are so wet with yours and his slick.

"please," you whine, all care flying out the window as he shows no sign of giving in to you, "wanna... I wanna come around you. please, baby."

his glee is contagious, apparent from the grin on his face and the twitch of his cock. he throbs seeing you so needy, and he already knows he's not going to listen to you. he lets himself leak onto your dripping cunt just to make you all the more desperate.

"why?" he asks, almost breathless with excitement, "I like you like this."

"come on, satoru!"

he huffs a laugh at your tone - desperate. pathetic - and feels his core tighten along with you. your clit is so sensitive now but there's no helping the fact you're going to cum like this whether you like it or not.

your mouth falls open into a slack 'o', and together with satoru you cum hard, the release offering some clarity but hardly any of the satisfaction. he collapses on your chest and listens to your thumping heartbeat for a moment, before tilting his gaze up to you and revelling in your pouting expression.

"what?" he asks, "not enough?"

you scowl and attempt to wriggle free, but you know already you can't escape him. as he crawls up to face you once more, he pecks a final kiss on your lips.

"go clean yourself up. if you want the works I'll give it to you, if you ask real nice."

#yeah i'll be writing a part 2 to this thank YOU #satoru gojo #gojo reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #gojo smut

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thornsnvultures · 11 months

Text

eddie munson x plus size!reader

summary: something short and silly. eddie loves your pubes, that's all

cw: 18+ nsft, lots of pubic hair talk, fingering

---

"You're so soft. How are you this fuckin' soft," Eddie presses his forehead into yours as he whines and pouts. Like he's mad at you for being everything he's ever wanted. And you can't help but laugh.

Eddie's fingers lazily stroke your mound, over your lips but not through the valley between them. His callused fingers pet your pussy, stroking and tugging at the downy hair between your thighs.

He doesn't care about getting you off and you don't either, though one slip of his finger might change your mind. You're just feeling, letting him explore the textures of your body.

"Do you use conditioner down here or something? My pubes feel like fuckin' steel wool."

You snort out a laugh, pushing at Eddie's chest.

"They do not."

"They do! All rough and crinkly. Nowhere near as soft as you. Fuck, I love your pussy." Eddie mumbles that last bit more to himself than you, shaking his head like he just can't believe it.

You press a kiss to Eddie's cheek, smiling at your silly, silly boy, and shift your hips. Eddie's finger slips into your folds and finds you wet and warm, even softer inside than out.

"Don't knock your pubes, babe. They feel so good against my clit when I'm riding you."

Eddie groans, his eyes falling shut as he circles that nub. You smile into his cheek, opening your thighs wider so he can slip his fingers down, down into where you're leaking, aching for him to fill you. And he does. Testing the waters with one finger and finding you wanting for more. Filling you with two as he circles your clit with his thumb.

"I was trying to be good," Eddie's low voice rumbles by your ear. The slight whine to it has your hips twisting, meeting his thrusting fingers.

"You're so good, Eddie. So sweet to me. Fucking me so good."

The slick sounds of your pussy fill the air, as Eddie picks up speed bringing you to the edge lightning fast.

"Soak me, baby. Gonna lick you clean after." Eddie kisses you, sucks the air from your lungs until your head feels floaty and you're coming hard around his fingers.

"They're even better wet," Eddie grins at your panting face, back to his lazy exploration, wiping his slick fingers off on the soft down of your cunt.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x plus size!reader #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fanfic #my fics

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highonmarvel · 9 months

Note

Hi there! May i please request a mob!steve x reader where the reader used to be with him but when she found about his mob life she left him so like the HR he decided to ruin her life and one day he just shows up in her now downgraded apartment and manipulates and gaslights her into coming back to him, and she just goes back because she’s just in a vulnerable place

Feel free to add your own spin to it btw love your work soo much! Especially the biker!bucky 🤗

oh, i like this! and thank you so much for the love! i hope you enjoy. and i apologise for taking over a month to get back to you, shit’s been wild for me. okay, here we go:

Easy Luxury

Steve Rogers: You find out how your suspiciously wealthy boyfriend makes his money, and have to start over without it.

content warnings here!

It was never manipulation, it was a deep understanding that enabled him to know what you needed before you even opened your mouth, a symptom of being the blond-haired, blue-eyed boy next door type. Naturally, he knows what’s best for you, you’d never have to question him. And you didn’t.

Steve was suspiciously wealthy for such a humble and down-to-Earth guy, but you didn’t question it; his expensive car, his shiny watch, his high rise penthouse, his seemingly endless cash, you didn’t read too much into it, you just enjoyed his presence, and his luxury didn’t hurt either; anything you wanted, and things you didn’t, Steve gave to you, and you accepted gratefully. He even insisted you live closer to him until he didn’t have so many people coming in and out of his apartment for something he never quite explained, and then you could move in with him. You live in a nice ass building a block down from him, making for easy visits, curtesy Steve.

You sigh as you place your bag down in the lift on the way up to the top floor, excited to surprise Steve. You had head to see your parents for what was supposed to be two weeks, but after just one you’d had enough, and you missed Steve.

You excitedly bounce on your toes as you pick your bag up again, the elevator numbers just a few ticks from the top. With a wide grin, you stare straight ahead as the the doors open, and that smile immediately drops.

Right in the middle of your living room, Steve is ripping the teeth out of a guy tied to a chair. Even the back of his shirt is bloodied, and there’s so much blood on the floor you have to assume there have been many other people in this man’s position in the time you’ve been away.

“You fucking rat,” he grunts as he pries the man’s mouth open again and sticks an adjustable wrench into the back of his cheek. It clasps onto one of his wisdom teeth and Steve pries it out, and you can tell he’s satisfied despite his back facing you. The man lets out a bloodcurdling scream and Steve tosses the tooth onto a pile of at least five others.

“Workin’ for the Starks, huh?”

The Starks are a well known mob family in New York, and if they’re Steve’s rivals then…

You gasp out loud.

Steve whips around, and his face, though covered almost entirely in crimson, goes pale.

“Baby! You’re back early.”

You finger flies to the close button for the doors, pressing furiously as if that’s gonna make it happen faster. Steve races towards you, calling your name as you anxiously push the button at lightning speed. At the very last split second, just before Steve can stick his hand between the doors, they shut, and the lift begins to descend. You hear Steve’s frustrated “Fuck!” and banging above you as your stomach sinks with the elevator.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, what can you do? Steve had convinced you to quit your job, you pretty much lived exclusively off of him, but you can’t possibly stay with him, yet you’re rendering yourself homeless if you leave.

Once you get to the ground floor, you race out the door, leaving your bag behind and ignoring a concerned look from the doorman as you dart out. You phone buzzes in your pocket, and you know it’s Steve. You ignore the vibrating phone call and run towards your apartment. You’re sure you have some money cobbled together from Christmas cards over the years. No way in hell you can pack your things, and you know you’ll have to get rid of your phone, but you need at least a little bit of cash.

You’re sure you’re on the verge of dying from a lack of oxygen as you make it to your apartment and slam the door behind you, locking it, too, though you doubt that’ll keep him out.

You’re furiously rummaging through drawers when a gentle rap at the door makes your soul damn near leap out of your body.

“Honey?” Steve calls, voice calm as ever, as if he didn’t just commit such unspeakable violence, and who knows what fucking else he’s done that you’ve never seen? And how did he get here so quick? Is he still covered in blood and spit and flesh and evidence from his torture?

You try to tune him out as you look for the last of the envelopes to add to your small pile, but you can’t ignore his gentle voice trying to coax you into a state of relaxation he would soothe you into when your anxiety became too much to bare.

“Sweetheart, let’s talk about this.”

“Go away!” you manage to shriek through hyperventilation.

“Don’t do something stupid,” he warns, voice low in a way you’ve never heard him use before, and if you were terrified before, you were on the verge of a heart attack now.

With a few envelopes and no way to escape, you run to the window and peer down; you’re three floors up with some soft patches of grass beneath you. You don’t have time to even calculate it, surely adrenaline will get you through the pain if you’re severely hurt. You’re working up the nerve, and just as Steve busts the door in, yelling your name, you jump, luckily landing on your feet, but falling soon after, and briefly wondering if you’ve dislocated your knee as you scramble to stand and start running.

Steve shouts your name from the window but you don’t even look back, just running to God knows where. You’re sure you’ve run full speed for more than half an hour when, by such luck, you stumble across a really cheap looking motel. Just as you throw some cash to the guy to give you a key, you feel around in your pockets for your phone, panicked, and for the first time in your life, you’re glad to have lost it. He can’t find you now, at least not by tracking, you hope. Though you might have expected to be plagued by insomnia due to your stress, you pass right the fuck out as soon as your head touches the crusty pillow on the room’s stained mattress.

***

The sun isn’t out when you snap your eyes open, it couldn’t have been more than six hours since you ran away, then, but there’s no sign of Steve, and you let out the biggest breath of relief there ever could be. You head to the bathroom to shower and think of your next move, but it’s so filthy you wonder if you’re only making yourself dirtier by stepping in. You’re sweaty, and your body is physically tired from the sprinting. You flop onto the floor as you try to consider your next move. You’ve got an old friend living in Queens! You haven’t spoken to her in years, literally since high school, but since then she had practically been living on her own and raising herself and her sister, you can’t imagine she’s moved since then.

You have to walk a ways before you manage to get to an area you can hail a cab, and that takes a little more effort than you would have liked to exert. By some grace you manage to remember the address, and as you pull up, the house looks pretty much the same as all those years ago, giving you a glimmer of hope.

You drag yourself to the front door and manage to knock despite your weak body.

The door opens after a few moments to reveal the red hair you haven’t seen in forever, yet still, she looks virtually the same.

“Natasha!” you say as you collapse into her arms.

“Oh my God!” she cries, but she catches you with ease, “What are you doing here? What happened?”

You can barely speak, but she seems to somewhat understand as she leads to you to her living room and gently sets you down on the couch. Her blonde sister comes running into the room, eyes wide and panicked.

“Yelena!” Natasha calls, and hurriedly says words in Russian you could never understand. Yelena leaves and returns with a cup of water, which you gratefully accept, not realising just how thirsty you actually were. You gulp down the water like a dying fish and Yelena immediately leaves to get you another.

Sitting down and not on the verge of dehydration, you can speak, but your voice is still hoarse.

“I’m sorry for dropping in like this—”

“Don’t ever apologise for coming to me,” she cuts you off sternly, nearly angrily, like she’s irritated you thought you could ever bother her. She was this way in high school, but still, you haven’t spoken in years and years, and you feel bad for that. You know she can help you, or she’ll try to do everything in her power to do so, but you can’t let her get involved in mob business… like you were, unknowingly.

“I’m just in a rough spot,” you say, nodding thanks to Yelena as you take the second cup of water and down it even quicker than you did the first one. She sits down next to you, concerned, as Natasha is seated across from you on the opposite couch, leaning forward, forearms on her thighs as she listens attentively, “Don’t have a job or a place, or anyone else I can go to. I’ve got a bit of money, can you help me find a cheap place?”

“Just stay with us,” Yelena says, sitting up straight.

“Yeah,” Natasha agrees, “It’s clear there’s a lot going on, please, don’t be alone right now. You can stay here, I can help you get a job.”

Even after all this time, she treats you so beautifully, but you can’t let her get wrapped up in this; if Steve finds you, he might hurt Nat and Yelena, and you’d never be able to live with that (and maybe you won’t have to if he kills you too).

“No!” you say, a little louder than needed, causing the pair to give you strange looks, “Please,” you say, speaking softer now, “If you want to help me, can I just use your shower and you help me get a place? I know you know a lot of people.”

You can tell she wants to protest, but Nat only presses her lips into a thin line and exhales through her nostrils, nodding before standing up.

“Okay,” she concedes, “Yelena will get you some fresh clothes and I’ll make some calls.”

“Thank you,” you say, with more sincerity than you ever have in your life. Yelena helps you up, and you want to protest, but realise you’re a lot weaker than you thought, and you can’t tell if it’s mental or physical exhaustion.

You have to sit down in the shower, rinsing the stickiness off of you and watching it float in the few centimetres of water before being whisked down the drain.

You’re steadier on your feet once you’re clean and dressed, and you pop into the kitchen just as Nat hangs up her phone.

“Okay, I’ve got somewhere $95 a month, but it’s not great.”

You shake your head, “It’s perfect, thank you.” You counted around $650 in your cash, but if you get a job you can make it work.

“But you’re not leaving before you eat.”

Eating breakfast with Nat and Yelena takes the weight of the world off your shoulders, the three of you laughing about events from a decade ago with the same vigour you did when they first happened. But you can’t shake the feeling you have to leave, quick.

You’re nearly done helping the pair clean up when Nat comes up to you.

“Hey, what’s your number? We should stay in touch, even if just for a few months, just so I know you’re okay.”

“I lost my phone,” you sigh.

“I’m drop in every once in a while then, okay? And you can’t fight me on this. I’m honestly really worried about you,” she throws her dish rag over a chair and walks up to you, holding your shoulders as she looks into your eyes, “But I’m so glad you came. I’m always here for you. So is Yelena.”

You look to the doorway Yelena’s leaning against and she gives you a smile, but it’s a little sad.

“Thank you, Nat. I love you, so much. And I’m sorry it’s been so long.”

“These things happen, it’s fine. I’m just glad you’re in one piece. Looks like you had a hell of a night.”

You laugh shakily and nod, “I did. I’m surprised I didn’t dislocate a knee.”

“Oh my God… okay, conversation for another time, let’s just get you into your place. Do you have anything we need to take?”

You literally have no earthly possession with you at this point besides the envelopes, which you tuck into the inner pockets of Nat’s biker jacket she’s lending you. You refused to take any clothes other than one other pair of pants and a t-shirt, but Yelena promised she’d wash your others and bring them back, though you’re not even sure you want them anymore.

“I’ll be back with them tomorrow,” she says as she closes the door, leaving you alone in a flat you’re sure has mould.

There’s only a couch, a mattress, and a clock you’re not sure if displays the correct time, which is more than you were expecting. You flop down onto the slightly dirty couch and run your hands over your face. Now fed, hydrated, and somewhat rested, you can’t think of anything else to distract you from thoughts of Steve…

Okay, you’ll try to find a job tomorrow, for today, there’s nothing more you can do but try to sleep, even though it’s not even midday yet.

***

As promised, Yelena drops off your clothes the next morning, with the tears poorly sewn up, but you thank her for the effort and encourage her to leave the building before you do, in case Steve is watching, but you don’t cite that reason.

Half an hour later, you stride out, taking a walk down the dodgy streets, and luckily, you come across a bakery with an “URGENTLY HIRING” sign in the window. Your little streaks of luck would mean much more if it wasn’t overshadowed by everything else, and your luck ends when you’re half way into the interview.

“What?!” you gasp, trying to lean over to get a better look at the computer screen the interviewer (who’s just some teenager, probably a temp) is trying to shield from you.

“Ma’am, you have a charge for robbery, we can’t hire you.”

You exit in a daze, nearly numb at the realisation Steve would go this far. Why not just kill you? If he was worried you’d go to the police (the thought had never even crossed your mind until this moment), he’d just fucking kill you, or kidnap and torture you, he wouldn’t just leave you to rot out in the real world, that’s too risky.

You sadly make your way back to your flat, and who’s there when you open the door?

Steve stands with a crisp blue shirt in the centre of the room, and what can you do about it.

You fall to your knees and sob, face in your hands as you try to take in your fate. What did he want with you? You want to say you swear you’ll never tell anyone, that you haven’t told anyone, but you can’t speak through your gasping sobs.

“Hey, hey, hey,” he coos, slowly making his way over to you, like he’s worried he’ll scare you off, “It’s okay, don’t worry, I’d never hurt you, baby, you weren’t supposed to see that, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you, I didn’t want to hurt you, ever, but I have.”

He sighs, and you manage to look back up at him, a somber coat over his blue eyes.

“And look at you,” he gently raises your arm to trace a finger over scrapes and scratches you guess are from darting through narrow alleyways and through thick bushes, “Baby, and look at his,” he gestures around him to the damp flat, and you sniffle, “You can’t stay here, come back, I’ll take care of you, like I always have.”

“Th- the arrest—”

“I had to do that, baby, I’m sorry. I just had to. If you were with me that never would have happened, see? And it can all go away. Honey, I’m offering you the world, all you have to do is come with me.”

With teary eyes you look around. You can’t live here too long or you’ll get some kind of mould poisoning, you can’t get a job, you can’t endanger Nat and Yelena…

“Okay,” you sigh, defeated, and just as Steve starts to smile, there’s a knock at the door. Natasha calls your name and you tense up, Steve looks down at you with his head cocked to the side.

“I think you better answer that, sweetheart. Tell her you’re not gonna be here anymore.”

He pulls you to your feet and you gulp as you lean your head against the door.

“Yeah?” you answer.

“Let me in.”

If Steve sees Nat, he’ll know who to look for if you try anything like this again. But he’s sitting patiently on the couch, and he nods towards the door, beckoning you to open it. You take a deep breath and crack it open a bit.

“Hey, what’s up?” you think you say, but you can barely hear your words over the pounding of your heart.

“Is everything okay?” she asks, and you shoot a glance behind you, which you immediately regret when Nat bounces on her toes to get a look.

“Yeah,” you block her vision and bring her attention back to you, still trying to keep the door as close to closed as possible, “I… I have to go…”

“What?” she asks, “You just got here, what’s changed?”

“Things have worked out, it’s all good now, don’t worry—”

You freeze as you feel Steve behind you, his tall frame casting a shadow over you and Nat. You shut your eyes, willing this to be a trick of light or a hallucination due to stress, it can be anything but real.

“Hi. Steve Rogers,” he extends his hand, and Nat tentatively takes it, in only a way you know — to everyone else, she wouldn’t seem cautious, but you saw the clench in her right knee that gives away her switch to defence.

“Natasha Romanoff.”

Fuck, Nat, why did you say your name!?

“Nice to meet you. Don’t worry about her, she’s in good hands with me.”

She nods.

“Steve, could you go get my clothes for me? I think they’re in the bathroom or the bedroom, they’re the only two other rooms.”

He nods and turns away. Once he’s out of sight, Nat’s expression turns panicked as she scans your face, noticing tears welling. She doesn’t say it, but you can tell she’s pleading “Come with me.” You shake your head and quickly wipe away the tears before they fall, just as you hear Steve’s approaching footsteps again.

You shut the door just as he exits the bedroom with your neatly folded clothes from your recent run.

“Natasha washed these, I assume? Or was it Yelena?”

⍟

[taglist; @cjand10]

#dark!steve rogers #dark!steve rogers x reader #dark!steve rogers x you #dark!steve rogers x y/n #dark steve rogers #dark steve rogers x reader #dark steve rogers x you #dark steve rogers x y/n #dark avengers #dark!avengers

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yuus-sentient-teddy · 10 months

Text

"You're staying here."

A/N: Spoilers for Prologue, Books 1-6, and certain events. Sorry! I've had this story in my drafts for so many months. I hope ya'll enjoy it and please let me know what you think.

EDIT: I accidentally posted this while in the middle of editing and decided to still work on it while it was posted XD

". . . What? Hang on--"

"Calm down, we just need you to be our in-between in case the beast gets to us. Having you up here means you can get to the Headmaster faster--"

"Wait, stop. Stop." Yuu squinted at Leona, incredulous. "You could have one of your dormmates do that. Your dorm is based on athletics, I'm pretty sure whoever he is could get to the Headmaster faster than me. Not to mention, I'm a Beast Tamer, I should be going with you guys!"

"You're also magicless." Leona was mercilessly blunt with that fact. The words reminded Yuu of all the jabs of random bullies throughout the schoolyear, and they gritted their teeth. Before they could argue back, Leona said, "I'm not saying that that makes you useless, but let's face it: you're not going to survive that oversized house cat unless you can put up a barrier or counter a spell."

"I probably wasn't meant to survive a lot of things since coming here, but look what happened--" Yuu spread their arms out--"I'm alive anyways."

"It's probably because you had one of us or Grim with you," Ace said. "Dealing with the ghosts at Ramshackle the first night and every other thing after that, Grim. Fighting the Phantom in the mines, the three of us. All of the Overblots, a group of us." He was counting off each instance with his fingers, clearly not sorry for making a case against Yuu. "I know you're not thrilled about being left out of something as big as this, but without Grim, you're not going to be able to do much, let alone protect yourself. We can't keep an eye on you either, so it's basically better if you stay here."

He didn't shrink away from the look of betrayal and anger on Yuu's face and stood still when they marched up to him. "Okay, first of all, when have I ever asked any of you to keep an eye on me? Yeah, never. And second in case you forgot, I've handled myself pretty damn well when it came to random magic crap. I literally can't count how many times I almost got burnt by fireballs, impaled by ice, and struck by lightning by people that can't aim, and there are a lot of them at this school. Yeah, Vargas's 'catch-up' lessons helped with my speed, but my point still stands."

They held up a hand, stopping Ace from rebutting. "And if you're going to bring up Grim probably throwing out spells with weird side effects, don't. I've suffered enough curses getting thrown at me and potions being snuck into my food to get used to weird effects."

"Wait, people have been doing those things?!" Kalim's eyes were wide in disbelief and shock. "Why?"

Yuu half-heartedly tossed their arms, palms turning upward, as a form of a shrug. "Probably because they're assholes and I'm an easy guinea pig. If we're being a little pessimistic, it's probably also because no one would miss me. Magicless nobody from another world and all that."

"That's a horrible thing to think about!" Kalim cried. The Ramshackle Prefect was a helpful person and tried avoiding trouble the best they could. Not to mention, they weren't in line for something major like a merchant business or a throne. How could anyone want to trouble Yuu? (And how could Yuu think no one would miss them?)

"No surprise they'd think that," Idia mumbled.

"Hate to break it to you, but even if you got potioned and cursed a lot, there's still going to be something you won't be able to handle," Ruggie said. "I get what you mean, though. I got cursed and potioned a bunch of times before I started working for Leona and still a little after. At some point, you're more annoyed than bothered by whatever happens to you."

There were times he saw his freshman self in Yuu. Struggling to understand the lessons, having to bear with a handful of cruel upperclassmen or fellow classmates, left to carry out a difficult task on their own... he sometimes may or may not have been at the right place at the right time to offer help--in exchange for a favor, of course.

"That still doesn't mean you should throw yourself into a fight without knowing what could happen to you," he added, almost scolding.

"I know, but I still helped with the Overblots, didn't I? I think that's enough proof that I can handle being in dangerous fights," Yuu said, crossing their arms. Their sleeve got pushed up and a healing scar on the back of their wrist was revealed, which caught multiple eyes.

Savanaclaw and the Leech Twins remembered the cry of fear and pain when the Octopus Phantom's tentacle snatched their arm, right after they had stepped out of the way of a funnel of water. Octavinelle and Kalim remembered Yuu being sent flying after the Genie Phantom shot a spell that created a force upon impact. They would have hit the wall like a rag doll if Azul didn't catch them with wind magic. The VDC group members remembered them on the ground, twitching sporadically as one of the Hag Phantom's regular sized apples innocently rolled away like it didn't poison them through touch. (Deuce panicked so hard he summoned a cauldron to crush it even though just stepping on the apple was all that was needed.) And who could forget Yuu yanking their arm out of a nest of thorny branches that had been summoned by the Dragon Phantom? They had scars from thorns that got particularly stuck.

After realizing they were staring, Yuu followed the gazes and put their hands in their pockets as casually as they could.

"If you're worried about us thinking less of you, I assure you we wouldn't," Azul said. "There's nothing about the offer that you should be worried about. Again, it's not because your magiclessness makes you less valuable. It's simply letting you avoid another troublesome fight."

He didn't turn on the charm; no smiles or overly fawning words. He was dead serious and it made Yuu uneasy. Why did he want them to take the offer? Although--and this uneased them much more--it was starting to feel like most of the boys were conspiring to keep them out of the fight.

"After everything you've gone through, you pretty much deserve this. Don't worry about Grim, either." Deuce pounded his chest. "We'll be sure to bring him back in one piece."

"I. . . appreciate. . ." Yuu gestured vaguely while also feeling that 'appreciate' was a strange thing to say. They didn't appreciate being pushed out of something important without being heard, and they weren't sure how to feel about the unexpected concern for their wellbeing, especially at a time like this. "I appreciate you guys wanting to give me a break, but I really am serious about coming with to save Grim."

They saw shoulders slumping and heard frustrated huffs. "Listen!" they yelled, starting to feel frustrated themself. "I almost lost Grim once! I need to be there to make sure I don't lose him again. I know you guys can do what I can't, I've seen you all fight before, and I know you all will be able to handle what's coming, but I can't stand being on the side again! So, like it or not, I'm coming with. And why do any of you care about me getting a few scratches or hits from magic, anyway? It's not like it hasn't happened before."

No one responded.

". . . Guys?"

Finally, Leona clicked his tongue. "So annoying. I told you all it would've been pointless to do this."

"What's going on?" Yuu scanned the faces around them, noticing how uneasy Jack and Riddle looked, how Ace and Deuce seemed to have something to say, how irritated or hesitant everyone else appeared. Malleus approached them and they immediately noticed his brows furrowed in concern. "Tsunotaro. . . ?"

"Two night ago, we all shared a prophetic vision, likely similar to what you have been experiencing as of late. All of us were gathered together battling the chimera form of Grim in the same area as the current one. He casted spells that were beyond his usual abilities, including one that made it hard to breathe. Somehow, in the blink of a moment, you ended up alone with him trying to get him to come to his senses."

Yuu held their breath as Malleus said, "But then he opened his mouth and lunged towards you, and the vision ended. Forgive us for not telling you sooner. It is difficult speaking of someone's prophesied death and we did not want you to lose your confidence."

Multiple eyes carefully watched Yuu process everything he said. Some wondered how this would affect their character (Malleus admired them for their courage, considering their circumstances, and Ace liked them for their gutsy and surprising moments; hopefully nothing would change).

Others hoped that Yuu would relent and let the group fight Grim without them (Rook was regretful of leaving Yuu behind, but someone as special as them needed to be kept safe; Riddle simply didn't want to lose a dear friend).

And others prepared to rebut Yuu if they were still stubborn about going (Leona was mentally groaning and Vil shared his sentiment; aside from the Freshman Squad's reputation for having hard-heads, the two understood how much Grim meant to Yuu).

The Ramshackle Prefect started to observe them in turn with an unreadable expression.

Then they scowled. "You all realize how fucked up it is to keep that a secret, right? I mean, shouldn't I be told I might be walking to my death? Or is it--I don't know. You all think I can't make my own decisions?"

"That's the thing, Yuu. You care a lot about the people around you, and when it comes to Grim, you'd do anything to keep him safe. Even if we told you about the vision, I'm willing to bet you'd try to convince us to let you come anyway," Ace said. "You're right, it was fucked up to keep the vision from you, but we can't let you be so careless about yourself, especially since it's basically confirmed you might die."

"That cat has no idea how lucky he is to have a patient and caring person like yourself," Sebek said. "It wouldn't do for him to learn it through severely injuring you."

"And actually, none of us would be able to stand it if you got hurt or worse and we had the opportunity to prevent it," Ortho said. "You've done a lot already. Just this once, we want to handle this without troubling you."

Yuu silently stared at their Squad, mouth agape.

"When we found out you had gone with Epel and Hunt to find S.T.Y.X.'s headquarters, we seriously thought wouldn't see you again," Deuce said. "You gave us a heart attack with what happened in Scarabia. What you did then was unbearable."

"I know it's pointless to think about, but I sometimes worry over what would have happened if I didn't get my Unique Magic in time," Epel said. "Seeing that vision of Grim pouncing on you, though. . . it's made it harder to sleep at night."

"Frankly, the headmaster could be more considerate of you," Jack said. "Having to take care of Grim and being a Prefect can't be easy. Not to mention, what was he thinking tasking you with stopping Azul?"

He rubbed the back of his neck, looking to the side. "On top of being a little reckless, it makes it hard to not want to pull you back from any trouble."

"So, whatever you tell us, we're not taking no for an answer," Ace concluded.

The anger they had towards everyone for their audacity to keep the vision a secret was dimmed a little (just a little) by their friends' worry for their well-being. At the same time, the worrying made their heart tremble and throat tighten. They closed their eyes and took a deep breath. "You know, this whole time I was expected to be a stone wall. I forgot what it felt like to be cared about."

"Huh?" multiple voices chorused.

"What do you mean by that?" Deuce asked.

"Well, I was pretty much thrown into a lion's den and expected to survive it. I wasn't given much sympathy either by nearly everyone I met, especially during the first month." (A few of the boys internally cringed, remembering the hurtful words he had said.) "There's also the fact that most of the school consists of pricks who are self-absorbed year-round. It's not very comforting to know that if something happens to me, there's a good chance no one's going to give me a hand, except if it's people I get along with or people who can benefit from my suffering."

"I don't blame you for wanting certain attitudes to change, but you know as well as I do that you'll encounter pricks and predators anyway beyond the school walls," Vil said but not without some sympathy.

"I do," they said bitterly. "Look, I get it. I shouldn't expect the world to hold my hand or offer me everything on a silver platter. But--god damn it, would it have killed anyone or even any of you guys to have some sympathy? To be a little more decent?”

"I was able to bear the atmosphere of NRC for a while, but at some point, it gets so fucking tiring. A student population that can't be a smidge nicer unless they're beaten up or more upfront about their actual intentions." They shook their head, then made a derisive sound. "That's why I'm having a hard time processing this. I'm sorry, but I can't wrap my head around the fact that you guys, who come from Night Raven College, are actually showing that you care."

The corner of their lip twitched upward, forming a broken smile. Concern was visible on everyone's faces.

"Yuu," Ace said, "are you okay?"

". . . No. I haven't been okay since coming here, or maybe I wasn't okay before coming here and it just got worse. I don't really know."

They turned their face to the side, but it was too late: everyone saw a tear slide down their cheek. Except for Grim and the rest of the First Year Squad, no one ever saw the Ramshackle Prefect cry. It strangely made everyone concerned, and some reached out a hand.

"Yuu..."

"Prefect..."

They raised a fist to their face, as though it could stop the tears before they could spill. They took a slow, deep breath to calm themself, but they never let that breath go in fear a sob would escape.

"Yuu." A hand gently touched their shoulder. "It's all right."

They shoved the person away. They couldn't see who it was from the torrent of tears that suddenly spilled and blinded their sight. "It's not!"

"I was starting to believe people when they said I wouldn't be anything! They told me I was useless and dumb and a nobody. They told me I should've stayed a janitor because I couldn't do anything right. They'd try to beat me up for some etiquette I didn't know or for some stupid reason."

Insulting Yuu's parents and them. . .

Riddle noticed Trey setting aside a big cookie during preparations for the Unbirthday Party. It was for Yuu. Earlier that day, someone or some people had stolen their bag and stuffed it with crumpled paper and empty food wrappers. Their notebooks--thankfully still in tact--had been tossed haphazardly around the school and led to the field where the bag was left. Trey found all this out when Ace and Deuce returned to Heartslabyul dorm scowling. The Unbirthday Party went on as usual, and Yuu seemed cheered up by the cookie and receiving the honors of petting a hedgehog. Much, much later, Riddle caught a bully red-handed and dished out the consequences for breaking Rule #53: You must replace anything you steal. Sadly, it didn't deter other bullies from stealing Yuu's bag, but Riddle still punished whoever he could for breaking an important rule and troubling someone so undeserving.

Threatening to take a tooth. . .

Leona overheard a conversation while napping in the botanical garden. In between sleep and waking, he initially thought he was dreaming the times he overheard the servants whispering disapprovingly about him. What made him wake up was hearing plots to get Yuu kicked out. He couldn't be bothered to care what ridiculous crap the herbivores in the other dorms or his juniors in Savanaclaw got caught up in, but this was something different. Joke or not, someone had to step in before either party gets kicked out--and that's what he did, telling the students off for planning something ridiculous and highly risky (and glaring harshly when he recognized some of the students as members of the Magift Club). After the students scrammed, he settled back down to sleep and his mind wandered to Yuu. He felt a little deja vu when he thought how they needed a tutor to keep themself from failing (and Grim too even though that fur ball could pay to be less annoying). It would dig into his rest time, but he had an idea for what Yuu could do to make up for that. Say, help a certain hyena finish his given tasks quicker.

"It feels like I'm only here for people to use or take from. I keep wondering why it always happens. Is there something wrong with me? Was there some invisible sign telling people I was a tool that didn't need repairs? Was I cheap labor because I'm on the bottom of some hierarchy?"

Taking Ramshackle Dorm away. . .

Once, Azul came across a group of students playing 'keep away' with Yuu and their lunch box. For a moment, he was reminded of his child self, trying to get back a seashell from a couple of bullies who were tossing it to each other over his head and taunting his slowness. He snapped out of his memories when Ace, Deuce, and Grim entered the scene, magic ablazed and yelling. It wouldn't be the first time he would see this happen: anytime anyone picked on Yuu while using magic, their friends would come to their aid. (If Azul had to be honest, he envied the Ramshackle Prefect for having people like the First Year Squad look out for them.) But then, some time after his Overblot, he came across a couple of students on brooms waving Yuu's homework from their perch. The sight particularly irked him, but before he could step in, one of the bullies lost his grip and a couple of papers got blown away. The rest of the homework got lost when he and his accomplice tried grabbing the sheets. It all drifted onto the wet grass below or sailed over the trees, and the bullies, suddenly remembering they had something more important to do, left Yuu scrambling to salvage what they could. Azul wouldn't forget the Prefect's face when they asked, defeated, what he wanted in exchange for helping them with the missing papers. He neither wouldn't forget their face when they asked how he had been able to deal with being picked on so much. For once, he didn't feel the urge to strike a deal.

Using them for a plan. . .

When the high of partying in the desert died down, all Jamil could think about was how he would tell his family that he Overblotted and why. It churned his stomach picturing their horrified faces, and it was made worse when he wondered what the Al-Asim family would do if they heard that their heir had been caught in a dangerous situation by none other than the loyal best friend. What would happen to him and his family then? Amidst the inner turmoil, the Ramshackle Prefect and Grim were far from his mind until he and Kalim found them practicing for the VDC tryouts. A proper apology was due, but he didn't have one prepared. It didn't seem to matter to the two, though, as they acted like nothing happened. As though he didn't force them to "solve" another dorm problem right after Grim expressed not wanting to. When Vil Overblotted, he saw Grim rearing to fight while voicing how troublesome it was to deal with yet another Overblot. His eyes slid over to Yuu. . . and it was crystal clear they didn't want to deal with anything anymore. They stared at Vil's cackling, levitating figure with despair, eyes telling of exhaustion and mouth tugging into a grimace, a sign of reluctant acceptance. He tried to protect them when he could from poisonous spells--emphasis on tried, since he still had Kalim to keep safe--and afterwards, offered leftover food whenever Scarabia had parties.

"Was an Overblot all it took for people to see me differently? I can't control how other people act, only how I respond. All I can do is take things easy and forgive, but I don't know if I can keep doing it. It's just. . ."

Their voice trembled. "So hard to keep going when it seems like barely anyone wants to consider you."

Word spread fast around Night Raven College and it wasn't long before Vil recognized that Yuu was in a challenging position: they lived in a literal ramshackle dorm, had to live on a small budget, and were entirely new to this world. He had to hand it to them, they possessed quite the will and backbone. After all they experienced, he counted himself lucky that they warmed up to him rather quickly--which was why he noticed how tensely quiet they became the night after their friends snuck a bite of unknowingly cursed dessert. When asked, they told him bluntly that it was painful seeing food used like that. They were struggling to pay off lunch debts and it was made much worse when already broken windows broke a little more or parts of the roof had to be patched up after a short downpour. Vil could see a little hunger in their eyes as they talked of instances where they had to decide between repairs and eating dinner that night, even the next two nights. He didn't know about their struggles in the first place, but he nonetheless felt terrible about what he did and deeply apologized. For the rest of the VDC training camp, he ignored any footsteps that came from the Prefect's bedroom and headed downstairs, even as they made the floorboard creak loudly.

Idia sometimes thought about how the Prefect looked when they thanked him for listening to their rambles of all the anime they watched back on Earth. The two of them were sitting in Ramshackle Dorm's lounge, waiting for the next level of the game to finish loading, when he glanced over. Serene and distant, like they had recounted a fond memory. He thought back to all the isekai manga, anime, and video games he consumed. Some protagonists seemed pretty eager to be in another world, others were immediately wishing to go back home, but those who expressed homesickness did it in a cool way, like staring at a moon while sitting next to a best friend (he did remember reading fanfiction where it was more emotional, though.) None had a protagonist talk about something as mundane as the shows they loved to watch, let alone a protagonist who would talk to someone awkward like him. Didn't Yuu have their squad for these sort of heart to heart things? But they insisted that he was the guy they wanted to talk to; according to them, he was the most similar to the friends they rambled to about anime and would very likely 'get' what they would be talking about. Idia was simultaneously flattered and frightened: flattered because his expertise in the media was recognized and frightened because he was in a position reserved for those with high relationship levels. In fact, he panicked when Yuu suddenly got teary-eyed. The saving grace was the next level finishing loading and the characters getting thrown into chaos. The next time he came to Ramshackle Dorm, he brought with him some anime he thought Yuu would appreciate.

"And that's the thing. I don't understand how people forget there's more to a person than whether they have magic. There were times I wished no one had magic so they'd just shut up and stop acting like they're better than me or anyone else. It's like having magic is an excuse to be an ass."

Yuu sometimes joined Malleus on his nighttime strolls. Most nights they would be sound asleep, which was why he treasured the times they were awake enough to walk with him. The two talked about anything that came to mind: gargoyles, schoolwork, differences between Earth and Twisted Wonderland. Then one night, Yuu casually mentioned that many of the students were rather. . . unwelcoming. "Some of them act like I don't exist, but it's better than getting my homework stolen and thrown to the wind." He was surprised, but not unfamiliar with bullying from Lilia's recollection of cruel humans and various history lessons. He asked why. They shrugged, answering, "Probably because I'm low on the hierarchy. I don't have basic knowledge on magic on top of being magicless." When he said it still didn't warrant such behavior, they smiled sadly and replied, "Well, that's how it goes when you got something another person doesn't, and that other person just so happens to not really fit in a certain place." Later, Malleus was distraught to hear from Lilia that some of the students who were unkind to Yuu were of Diasomnia. The dorm was founded on the elegance of the Thorn Witch, surely the students would act with decor. But Lilia told him not to worry, he had a word with those students on being more open. But Malleus still wondered if there was something he could do. It turns out the answer was simple (even though it took place after his Overblot): hang out with Yuu during the daytime. They were a fellow student, were they not? So why should they be treated any different?

"Sometimes, I wonder if anything would change if I Overblotted. Would anyone wonder then why it happened and be nicer? Or. . ." Yuu let out a bitter scoff. "Would nothing change and people just see me more as an alien freak?"

They scrubbed the tears in their eyes. "Maybe I'm just a dumb ass and my Phantom would just eat me. It's not like I have anything else to offer it. God, what am I doing?"

The weight of what they had spilled for the past couple of minutes started crashing down like a crumbling shelf. They didn't want to see what the others' reactions were and continued to wipe their eyes with their hands and sleeves, even if there wasn't much to wipe. Their mind cycled through anything they could say to escape such an embarrassing situation. So sorry, I didn't know where it came from. Let's go back to arguing why I can't come with you guys to save my cat. He has been nothing but a pain in the ass, I should know, but he's become nicer and been my primary protector. He keeps insisting he'd protect me because he's the boss and I'm his henchman, and it's so endearing sometimes. And he's comforted me when I become so sick and just need someone to hold me--

"How long has this been going on for?" It was a gentle question. Yuu lowered their hand and found Ace and Deuce standing before them, the worry on their faces making their heart clench.

"A long time."

"Why didn't you say anything? We could have done something, you know," Deuce said.

Yuu shook their head. "This school runs on sink or swim. 'Losers don't have the right to complain.' And did you guys forget that we're freshmen? What can you guys do against the whole school? I actually talked about this with the school counselor and all he could do was apologize and tell me he'll put in a note for the headmaster."

Yuu almost laughed at the faces Ace and Deuce made. "I'm pretty sure I'm his first case for something like this."

"Still, you shouldn't just take everything lying down," Deuce said.

"I don't want to anymore, but I'm so tired of fighting. At what point can I stop?"

Yuu was once again seen under a new light. The viewpoint was different for each boy: from magicless outlier to honorary dorm member, notorious problem solver to exhausted errand runner, doe-eyed student to determined but kind mastermind, just to name a few. Yuu had laid bare wounds previously covered up by uniform sleeves, things they couldn't talk about or didn't feel comfortable sharing because otherwise they'd go against the school norm and grab negative attention to themself. Their closest friends knew of these wounds; others caught glimpses of certain parts. With the revelation, they all shared a similar viewpoint: an ordinary person so far from home, dropped into a magical, chaotic world and more vulnerable than what anyone realized. More exhausted and heavily scarred than what anyone realized.

"When Leona told me to stay here, I thought all along you guys didn't think of me as someone who could stand beside you and that everything had just been you all tolerating me." Yuu's voice dropped to a whisper. "That had hurt me more than any of you could know."

". . . Anyone who thinks you're undeserving of your position knows absolutely nothing," Riddle said. "Not counting your grades, you've proven yourself enough to have a place in this school."

Yuu gave Riddle a wobbly smile and he found himself feeling a little bashful. "Thanks, Riddle."

The smile suddenly became strained and they looked away. "I'm sorry. I know I said I took things easy and forgave, but--" they grimaced--"I can't bring myself to let go of some things you and the others did."

A/N: This accidentally became a two parter

EDIT: I forgot to add the link to part 2. Here it is

#twst angst #yuu/mc (twisted wonderland)#riddle rosehearts #leona kingscholar #azul ashengrotto #jamil viper #vil shoenheit #idia shroud #malleus draconia #ace trappola #deuce spade #🧸🖊writing

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