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ddejavvu · 8 months

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I need anakin to bend me in half, my legs over his shoulders with his hands intertwined above my head to hold me in place and rabbit fuck me until he fills me up with his seed and holds me upside so not a drop spills then do it all over again the next morning. and then pulls up my panties, pats my clothed pussy and tells me to go on with my day with all his cum snug inside me🧎‍♀️

keep the anakin thoughts coming please <3 just like he'd keep me comi- [gunshots]

this post is 18+, minors dni.

the part about- the- the part about... patting it. like a little reward. please i'm convulsing i need him so carnally

he spends a fair amount of time in the morning loving on you, because he's been touch/love deprived all his life and he's enamored with the concept of just being with you. But he's like a leech, and more often than not, when he gets his hands on you, he's gonna latch on and suck and take take take take take from you, so having your knees over his shoulders just becomes a regular morning routine for the two of you.

it's really very casual, too. that's not to say it lacks passion, because anakin is passion in human form, and it would be impossible for him to do anything without an underlying current of it running through his veins like scorching oil, fueling his every move. but it's routine, it's usual, it's expected.

all he has to do is tilt his head up, chin pointed towards the bedpost, and you know to wrap your hands around it and hold on for dear life. he doesn't even need to say it anymore, but sometimes a sleep-thickened, groggy 'bedpost' will fill the anticipatory silence that your blearily buzzing bodies exude.

he is a pussy !! eater !! if you're not already slick and wet and begging for his cock from whatever varying degree of foreplay he'd managed in his freshly awake state, he parts your thighs with an easy wedge of his hands and buries his face in your cunt to say good morning. he probably talks to it too, squishing his nose up against the underside of the hood of your clit and offering a murmured 'morning' to your pussy. he likes when it elicits a response, a shudder of your spine, a fluttering clench around the slack ring of his lips, and he's more than happy to tongue-fuck you open in preparation for his cock. he's rutting it against the bed, ignoring the squished discomfort in search of stimulation that you can give him so much better.

he eats you out the same way he kisses you; a confident, probing tongue and a lot of spit. so much, in fact, that you can't tell what of the foamy residue he sucks up and spits back out onto your cunt is your own juices, or his. but it's wet, disgustingly so, and it's enough lubrication to aid in his master plan.

once you're sufficiently wet and ready, he doesn't hold back. he's been grinding against the stiff mattress for too long to take it slow, once the crown of his cock breaches your eager hole he's blacking out and going all in. his hips start at a jackrabbit's pace instantly and don't slow until he's pulling out of you, a relentless rhythm that you're always woefully unprepared for in the early morning.

you always cry out things like 'ah! anakin!' or 'easy- gentle! please, ani' you sob with tears brimming in your sleepy eyes as you grip at his cheeks, trying to tame whatever wild beast has him in its clutches while your cunt sucks him in, 'easy, baby, please.'

you're lucky you can use your hands, too. because he used to restrain them with the force, something that anakin knows obi-wan would be satisfyingly disapproving of if he ever found out. but once you'd learned to keep them around the headboard, you'd been permitted to hold them there yourself, and you can get away with touching his face or clawing at his back. as long as you don't use them to shift your weight somewhere, or touch your clit, or anything that he can handle. your legs burn as he's thrown them over his shoulders but don't move them, he wants them there.

anakin's a voracious kisser, licking your mouth out and providing it with an abundance of saliva and the residue of your own wetness. it's another hole he can fuck, his tongue prodding at the suction of your throat like his dick does to your cunt. he likes making you gag on it, sticking his tongue so far down your throat that you choke. all the while his drool is leaking into your mouth, pooling and swirling obscenely with your own, and making his cock twitch inside of your sloppy cunt.

he's very vocal during sex, but sometimes the morning sleepiness still has its clutches on him, and he's not very verbal. typically, though, he's grunting and groaning at every thrust, his mouth squelching as his tongue slides wetly against your own and his pornographic growls flowing straight down your throat and to your core.

He always holds himself back from cumming until after you have, maybe because he revels in how sensitive you get while he's still pumping his cock into you like you haven't just finished and spasmed around him. he usually spills warm, thick loads of cum into you not long after you work through your own orgasm, the feeling of your climax pushing him to his own.

but he doesn't slump down onto you, he doesn't roll over, he doesn't go fetch a washcloth, no. he slides his strong hands under your hips, one flesh and one durasteel, and lifts your hips off of the mattress, folding your stomach in half and keeping your cunt elevated.

His seed spills obscenely from its clutches but he prods at it with sloppy, haphazard fingers and licks them clean once it's no longer spilling outside of you. he wants it to sink into you, he wants it to take and be trapped in your cunt for the entire day. he knows gravity isn't on his side in that wish, but he dips down to nudge and kiss it between your puffy lips, tasting it on his tongue as he pushes it further into your sex.

when he's satisfied with its placement, he takes your underwear, sliding it over your ankles and hiking it up to your waist. it takes a little maneuvering to secure it under your ass, but once it's there he pats over your now-clothed, still filthy pussy, offering up an appreciative, 'good job, angel'. you can't tell if he's talking to you or your pussy but your brain is simultaneously exhausted and on fire at the same time, so you let him get up and shower for the morning while you recover beneath the bedsheets. when he leaves for his duties he drops a kiss to your lips, much more chaste and quick than it had been before, and tells you to have a good day, pretty girl.'

and that's it.

like he hadn't just fucked you raw and rough into the mattress. like your hands don't have imprints of the bedpost on them.

'have a good day, pretty girl.'

#anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker imagine #anakin skywalker scenario #anakin skywalker oneshot #anakin skywalker one-shot #anakin skywalker one shot #anakin skywalker headcanon #anakin skywalker headcanons #anakin skywalker hcs #anakin skywalker hc #anakin skywalker fanfiction #anakin skywalker fanfic #anakin skywalker fic #anakin skywalker blurb #anakin skywalker drabble #anakin skywalker dialogue #anakin skywalker fluff #anakin skywalker smut

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ivnxrori · 1 month

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When Sun and Moon meet - S1

Zuko x Fem!WaterBender!Reader Enemies to Lovers

As one of the Princesses of the Northern Water tribe, you were blessed with a gift by the moon. However you were permitted to be allowed to use the gift at all costs. From many hidden waterbending usages, the aftermath of the avatar visiting the Northern Tribe had led to your beginning journey, hiding yourself as a water bender as a princess from the Northern water tribe

Warnings: None

Masterlist

҉ * ‧͙ ⋆ ⁺ ༓ ☾ Prologue

“We announce the birth of a healthy girl…Princess Y/N!” Chief Arnook announced as the crowd cheered for their new princes alongside Yue. What the crowd didn't know was the difficulties of even keeping her a healthy princess. Once the baby was born, she couldn't stop wailing and crying. It was like every bone of her body was in pain. All the medical help didn't do anything, they didnt know why the Chief’s daughter was in so much pain. Yagoda suggests going to the Spirit Oasis, it's their only chance. Chief Arnook sweats as well as his wife, as if they're bound to be unlucky for every life they give. The royal parents of this princess used the same technique as they did with their previous daughter. Dipping her in the Spirit Oasis while praying for her life to the moon spirit, the color of the girl's hair turned from brown to a graceful white. Silent cheers and cries as they held their newest child close to them, happy the moon spirit gave another one of their daughters a second chance.

“Stop touching the edge of your coat” My mother instructed as she pulled my hand from the cuffs. I whined but one stern look from my mother stopped me. I huffed as I stood up straight leaning more so to my sister, Yue who took my hand graciously. In books and stories becoming a princess sounds like a dream. You have money, attention and you could do whatever you want. Everything is accurate except the last one, I couldn't do everything I wanted. I had to be restrained to the guards and my parents eye, even Yue doesnt get this treatment as much as I do. However I forgot to mention how I even got into strict confinement in the first place. “What are you doing?” My father grabbed my hand making the water orb splash at both of our feet. “She's a water bender…” My mom whispered as my dad's eyes widened. “Y/N…” He spoke softly as he held both of my shoulders in a kindly manner. “Do not water bend, it's not allowed for people like you”. I furrowed my eyebrows as I looked at him confused. He sighed as he took my hand. “Y/N, where we live only men are allowed to use waterbending, that's their job…to protect” My father shows me to the boys training their bending. “Especially people like you and your sister, you're both very important to this nation”. I didn't listen, it's not like I didn't understand what he was saying, I just didnt understand why it had to be like this. I zoned off as I saw the male benders. Envying that they can use their gift while I couldn't use mine. I snapped out of my zoned out space with a little pinch given by my sister. I flinched lightly as she slightly giggled earning a hush from our mother. I don't understand us needing to come to these royalty meetings, neither Yue and I are close to 16. Well she is closer to 16 by what? 6 years? That's still a whole 6 years till 16! I'm only younger than Yue by a year, however people treat me like a polar bear dog, cooing at me constantly for doing the littlest task while Yue gets treated so much more maturely. Some might say I have it easier but honestly I just feel dumb. Once the meeting ended we respectfully bowed and got up following our father. I held back my yawn as I saw the now night sky, looking how beautiful the moon is. ҉ ☾ I woke up in the middle of the night, groaning as I looked at the moon. I brush through my tangled hair with my hand while walking outside near the river. Is anyone there? I internally thought as I scavenged the area to see if there were any witnesses. I double checked and took a deep breath. Opening my eyes I hold the water orb, feeling the calming air around me. “You're going to get caught if you keep doing that”. I yelped and dropped my water orb. I turn around immediately with widened eyes meeting Yue. “Oh Yue” I sigh in relief as she glared at me. “You could've gotten caught by the guards and gotten in more trouble then you already have”. I sigh in understanding but also in annoyance. This isn't the first time I have snuck out to try out waterbending. Some days I have been caught but some days I haven't. “I'm going back to bed” I sigh with my head down “Are you?” “Yes, I am” Yue giggled as she patted me on the back. “I believe you can use it one day Y/N, I really you” She whispered sweetly as I nodded. “Thank you”

Next ->

a/n: This is my first fic im starting and im getting brainrott from avatar :) im still learning how to write so if there is any suggestions please share. Im like half asleep while writing this authors note so I know it wont make any sense when I wake up lmao Also feel free to tell me if you want to be added in the taglist!

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multifandomwhore-003 · 7 months

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Random Hazel Callahan headcanons that have been rotting my brain for the past couple of days:

Pairing: Hazel Callahan x female! reader

Summary: Not needed

Genre(s): a little angsty at first, after that's it's just pure fluff

Warnings: mentions of trauma and maladaptive daydreaming

A/N: I'M GONNA WRITE MORE FOR HER BECAUSE I NEED IT SO STAY TUNED, also I listened to False God by Taylor Swift the entire time I wrote this.

Taglist: @aemonds-holy-milk , join tag list here

• She has horrible listening skills, usually her house has been a pretty noisy and chaotic place, even before her parents divorced, so she's learned to mute the outside world.

• It tends to annoy pretty much everyone else outside the fight club, the only exception being PJ, she perhaps got annoyed more than anyone.

• When you first noticed you had to repeat yourself at least five times whenever she was around, you tried to come up with different ways for her to keep up, like texting her as you spoke so she could read it as much as she needed to.

• Later on you found out it wasn't just about losing track of a conversation, as you asked to borrow one of her headphones one time, you were shocked her ears weren't bleeding right then and there.

"Fucking hell, Hazel! Are you trying to break your ears or something?" your ears hurt for a second.

"It's not loud at all" She placed them on her neck.

"Baby, I can hear the music coming out of those things like a concert speaker,"

• You decided to invite her over to your house as often as possible, demanding a no-headphones rule.

"Why not?!" she complained.

"Because you're gonna be completely deaf at the age of 40!"

"And you'll be there to teach me sign language, right?" she hugged your waist.

"You're saying you prefer not hearing my voice for the rest of our lives?" you lifted a brow.

• The realazation dawned on her.

• To this day she hasn't worn headphones a single day in her life.

• Maladaptive daydreaming is also something she struggles with, not as much now as she used to in middle school and the first two years of high school, but it still happens sometimes.

• You found out when you decided to surprise her by coming to her house one day

• Mrs. Callahan said she couldn't get in contact with Hazel, for whatever reason.

• Most likely her phone turned off since it was out of battery.

• So she texted you she was gonna be missing all night, permitted you to stay the night, and told you to take care of Hazel.

• You found her in the kitchen yelling, it sounded as if she was yelling at someone.

"Are you ever gonna choose me over a booty call?! How is it that Jeff's dick is more important than me?! Your daughter! You fucking pushed me out and you still can't even ask me how my grades are doing and shit!"

• Your first thought was —Her mom's plans must've been canceled—

• As you approached the room as quietly as possible, you looked through the rim of the entrance, there was no one.

"Hazel," you spoke quietly through her screams.

A shiver went down her spine, he face turned white, she blinked a couple of times before turnind her head, "How much of that did you hear?" she avoided your eyes.

"I've never heard you like that," was all you could mutter as you approached her slowly and then embraced her in a hug, "I know you're not insane by the way," you whispered in her hair.

She began to cry.

• She didn't want to talk about it for the next few days

• When she did, she stumbled upon her words, talked too fast, and teared up every once in a sentence.

"Call me first," you cupped her face, "I'll never judge you for whatever you have to say,"

• She wanted to kiss you right then and there, but just rested her forehead on yours, an act of ultimate intimacy.

• I could get into the divorced parents' trauma for hours because same

• But for now I'll move on to the happy part

• Physical touch is the absolute most pure form of love she can give

• If she's not hugging your waist at all times, she's holding your hand, resting her head on your chest, shoulders, legs, etc. pretty much everywhere she can

• If you have long or medium hair she'll attempt to braid your hair, keyword attempt

• If you have short hair she'll buy little elastic ponytails to tie them around your head everywhere she can

• Her reasoning behind this is that her favorite plants are cactuses

• That's it, that's all the reasons she needs

• If you happen to be bald she'll rub your head while singing the chorus to Diamonds by Rihanna

• She plays ukelele

• She knows how to make a few origami figures and if she tries a new one, as crumbled and sweaty as it is she gives it to you

• You have a whole shelf in your room dedicated to every piece of folded paper she's ever done for you

• If you're more of a fem! girl, she'll try something of yours whenever she comes over and stare at her reflection for hours

"Good thing, god didn't make me straight, she knew I would be a menace,"

• You can only roll your eyes and laugh at her twirling and pretending to dance ballet in your dresses and skirts

• If she happens to go shopping without you, she'll try something you'll like and send you the photo after

"If it looks this good on me, imagine how AMAZING it'll look on you,"

• She once asked you to put makeup on her, she'll say she was just curious how she'd look

• She wasn't lying, but she also didn't mention she just wanted to recreate this picture:

• If you happen to be more of a masc! girl, you'll trade clothes as often as you can think

• More than once you have arrived at school with something she likes and just drags you to the bathroom to for you to make the exchange

• It's not her clothes and your clothes anymore, everything you own is hers and vice versa

• More often than not you're no longer sure what used to be only yours

• This goes for accessories and shoes as well, even if they don't fit her, she'll fill them up with toilet paper until they fit just fine

• You'll match AT LEAST once a week, as per her request of course

• She tries all kinds of chips (or crisps for my British luvs) she has tried every flavor and seasoning, but her favorites and the flaming hot ones, even if she ends up chugging your waterbottle after finishing the bag

• Although her parents are rich and taught her from a young age to be a precise wine taster, she's a tequila and vodka girl

• She hates gloomy and rainy days because they bring down her mood, but spending the day binge-watching cheesy movies and stuffing her stomach with all the snacks o her house makes it up

• She's ABSOLUTE SHIT at Karaoke, but my god does she have the spirit

• Her go-to song is Lies by Fleetwood Mac, but if she's drunk enough to gain confidence she'll request Easy On Me by Adele

• If she insists for long enough and you decide to sing with her, she 100% will try to recreate the following musical numbers:

• Lay all you love on me -Mamma Mia

• Every duet there is in Teen Beach Movie, her favorite childhood movie

• The cellblock tango -Chicago and Ex-Wives -from Six, if the rest of the fight club joins as well

• Popular from Wicked, strangely enough, she's Glinda

• Seventeen -Heathers

• Candy Store -Heathers featuring Isabel as Heather Mc Namara, Josie as Martha Dunnstock, and PJ as Veronica (She was heavily forced to after Brittany suggested it)

• Smooth Criminal -The Glee cast cover

• If you're a good singer, or at least a decent one, at the end of the song she'll hype you up more than anyone in the crowd, even carry you (this also applies to my plus size! lovelies, DON'T YOU WORRY, she has muscles)

• If you're a bad singer, then you'll be shit together, the worse your voices sound, the better you'll enjoy it

• Onto the kissing and overall more stereotypical relationship stuff, aka the not-so-comfortable part of my asexual-spectrum girlies.

• As previously shown in the original material

• Kissing is slow and passionate, she likes to enjoy your lips as much as possible, taking in every movement, taste, and breath

• Hands on your jaw and neck EVERY FUCKING TIME

• The first few times you offered her some chapstick or lipstick, or lipgloss, or lip oil, or anything, she would kiss you making you chuckle in surprise

• Now you don't even need to ask, she'll just be like

"Hey, your lips look beautiful," and peck you on the lips

• If you're alone it definitely turns into a whole makeout session

• She just claims it tastes too good not to do it

• Every once in a while she'll hug you from behind and aggressively kiss your cheek

• Good luck kisses before every test

• Her favorite kind of dates are picnic dates

• She takes pictures of the sky whenever she feels it matches your vibe

• She takes A LOT of pictures of you ANYTIME, ANYWHERE, she even went as far as to buy a film camera because they make everything more magical

• She reads A LOT

• She obviously knows too much about social injustices and everything regarding that realm, but she likes other things as well

• Avid fantasy reader, I DON'T MAKE THE RULES,

• Going back to this need for escapism, she was heavily raised by George R.R. Martin and Leigh Bardugo

• Definitely screamed, jumped, and overall looked like she was in a sugar rush when both Game of Thrones and Shadow and Bone came out

• She wasn't exactly allowed to watch Game of Thrones at the time it came out, so she watched when she was 16 instead

• Shadow and Bone, however, oh boy, it was whole event

• She cosplayed Sturmhond and made you cosplay as Zoya

That's it for now children, if I come up with anything else I'll do a part two or even better write something more complete

#hazel callahan bottoms movie #hazel callahan x you #hazel callahan #hazel callahan x reader #hazel callahan fanfiction #hazel callahan fluff #hazel callahan angst

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scarlethexelove · 3 months

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Hi Idk if your requests are still open but if they are, please can I request something? 🫣Remember Agatha photos, yes the one with the suit 🥴🫠🫨 I was thinking about Professor! Agatha. I want that. Daddy kink, breeding, and magic of course. Add whatever you want to it. Obviously, Top!Agatha

My Office

Image found on google

Pairing: Agatha Harkness x Reader

Word Count: 3102

Warnings: Professor!Agatha, Smut, Manipulation, Enchanted Strap, Fingering, A bit of mind control, Use of magic, Squirting, Daddy Kink, Dark!Agatha, Dom!Agatha, Sub!Reader, Breeding, Cock Warming, Virgin!Reader, Innocent!Reader, A bit of Dacryphilia, Age Gap (Agatha early 40s, Reader early/mid 20s), I think that is it

A/n: Alright so this one got away from me a bit. I made her a bit dark because I didn't want to fully typical professor/student relationship. I did also feel with making Reader so innocent that Reader being a virgin so that Agatha can manipulate her more was fun. Hope you like it and I didn't add anything that you didn't like

NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN

This class was your least favorite. History. You’re in history class with your least favorite teacher, Miss.Harkness. You don’t understand why you are borderline failing this class. You have been a straight A student all your life. You currently have a 4.0 GPA but you still can’t wrap your head around why this one is different. It’s like when you get your test back that you took a totally different test than what is being handed back. You’re beginning to think you are going crazy. How could you be doing this bad on all of these tests? Your GPA is tanking quickly and you just want to cry. And you almost do when another F lands on your desk right in front of you.

“See me in my office after class.” Mrs.Harkness leans down and whispers in your ear. It’s like you can hear the smirk in her voice but you dare not to look. Fighting back the tears that threaten to fall as your eyes shine with them. You just give her a gentle nod as she continues to pass out papers.

Your hands grip the pages looking at all the red X’s on the page. It’s History, it shouldn't be this hard. You studied all night for this test. You’re beginning to think that Mrs.Harkness has it out for you and wants you to fail.

What you don’t know is that she doesn’t want you to fail. She has a plan for you and the only way she can make it happen is for her to make you desperate. So she uses her magic to change your answers. The handwriting looks the same so that you get the question wrong. She likes to tell herself that she would never use her magic in this way but she has to have you. So she continues to make you fail. The only test left is your final and she knows that you are at your most vulnerable and desperate to achieve a higher grade. So now is her time to strike.

After class you walk slowly to her office. Having stopped in the bathroom to clean yourself up after letting a few tears slip down your face. You now stand outside the office door. Frosted glass with Miss.Harkness written in bold letters on the glass. The name mocking you as you gently knock on the door.

“Come in dear.” You hear her call out from behind the door. You gulp down the fear rising in your throat as you turn the squeaky handle and enter the room. There she is behind her desk in a large black chair. She looks up at you with a smirk playing on her lips. She watches your nervous form as you rub your sweaty palms on your pants. “Y-you wanted to s-see me Miss.Harkness?” You stutter out, fear in your voice.

“Agatha sweetie. You can call me Agatha sweetheart. We aren’t in class anymore.” She smiles at you standing from her seat as you awkwardly stand in the middle of her office. She shrugs off her long suit coat that almost reaches the floor. She sets it on the back of her chair leaving her in a white button up shirt and suit pants. You hate to admit it but the older woman is very attractive. If you weren’t terrified of her you may actually have a crush on the woman. But you have no time to think about that. You’re failing her class and you need to pass.

You nod and mumble “Agatha.” Her name feels strange on your tongue. “Sit dear, we have some things to discuss.” She motions for you to sit in the chair in front of her desk. You hesitantly move and sit as she rounds her desk. She moves and sits on the edge of her desk right in front of you. Pushing her sleeves up before gripping the edge of her desk, her legs slightly crossed as she holds herself up on the desk. “I’m very disappointed in you Y/n. I had heard many wonderful things about you from your previous professors but your work has been… underwhelming to say the least. I thought you had some brains in that pretty little head of yours.” Her voice is condescending and you can feel more tears in your eyes. You don’t even register the fact that she called you pretty at that moment. Only focusing on the criticism at the moment.

You look down, not meeting her eyes. “I-I-I” The tears threaten to fall as you try to hold your composure. Agatha thriving on your innocence and your fears. Her finger hooking under your chin as she leans forward forcing you to look up at her. “I don’t understand why. I-I study for hours. I know the material.” Your voice shakes slightly. “Obviously not or you would be passing my class.” She tisk. A tear rolls down your cheek. She moves her hand cupping your cheek and wipes the tear away with her thumb. She has you exactly where she wants you. “What if I told you there was something you could do for me. Something that will let you pass and possibly even get you an A.”

“Yes! Yes! Yes! I’ll do anything you ask of me just please I don’t wanna fail.” More tears slip down your cheeks as you don’t even question what she could possibly want from you. All you care about right now is your grade and to pass this class. You can deal with the consequences later. Right now you need this.

Agatha’s smirk grows more sinister. Purple smoke forms around her hand as you hear the door behind you lock. Your eyes widen as you look back at the purple smoke fading from the door before you look back now terrified at the woman in front of you. “W-what are you?” You question her trying to pull away from her touch. Her fingers gripping your chin harshly as she leans down closer to you, her lips inches from yours. “Oh, did you think that history stays in the past? I’m a witch my dear. Delightful to meet you my dear.” She laughs a wicked laugh.

Your mind is reeling from the new information. What could a witch want from you? Is she evil or good? Has she been purposely failing you? How can you get away from her? You can’t seem to understand anything right now. Your mind is going hazy. You don’t even notice the purple smoke this time as it seeps into your mind. You're being pliable to her just the way she likes it.

Agatha leans the rest of that distance and kisses your lips. With the magic she is using on you you kiss her back almost immediately. As the two of you make out Agatha starts to move you both gently. She gets you up on your feet grasping your hips tightly before she flips you pressing you against the desk. With her hands on your hips she urges you to sit on the desk which you do with her help. When air becomes an issue she pulls back her forehead leaning against yours. All you feel now is her and the need for her.

Agatha is pressed against you. You feel a bulge in her pants causing you to let out a whimper. “Oh sweetheart. Do you want daddy to fuck you?” She grinds into you moaning. You look at her with innocence with a touch of fear. Your mind is trying to scream at you to say no but soon that voice becomes small and distant until you can’t hear it anymore. Your only thoughts are of her.

“Daddy?” You say cautiously. Seeing how it feels on your tongue. She smiles at you. “Yes baby.” She says with another grind of her hips which causes you to let out a moan. “I-I’ve never.” Is all that you can get out. Too embarrassed to add anything hoping she gets the hint which she does. A low groan leaving her lips. She knew you were innocent but not this innocent and now she gets to ruin you for anyone else. “That’s ok sweet girl Daddy will take care of you. Do you want daddy to take care of you?” You ponder her question for a moment before nodding your head.

“I need words sweet girl.” Now that she has you she is going to teach you right. “Yes.” You mumble. “Yes what?” She asks, pulling back slightly to see what you would do. “Yes Daddy.” You grip her shirt, pulling her back. “Mmm good girl.” Her words make you blush and let out a small whine. You’re so adorable she thinks.

With her hands on your hips she pulls at your pants motioning for you to let her take them off. You lift your hips for her as she pulls them down and you help kick them off. She moans seeing the large wet spot on your panties. You shy under her gaze and try to close your legs but she doesn’t let you. Her fingers digging into the flesh of your thighs. Where you know you will have bruises tomorrow. Her one hand moving and pressing against your clothed bundle of nerves. You squirm at the touch, a throb you have never felt before in core. Her other hand moving up and tugging at your shirt, a signal for you to take it off.

You help take off your shirt as Agatha slowly starts to circle your clit with her finger. You unconsciously start to grind on her hand. Once your shirt is off her hand moves up and harshly grope your breast. She pulls your bra down letting your breast spill over the top. Leaning down and wrapping her lips around one of your nipples moving her hand to the other to tweak and pinch as her teeth scrape across the one in her mouth. The hand that was on your clothed core moves and grips your hips as she pushes closer and grinds against you. You both let out a moan at the feeling. One of your hands moving to her back and the other moving to the base of her scalp, lacing your fingers in her hair and gripping it tightly when she bites your nipple. Letting out a whimper as she groans.

“Fuck baby girl, so wet and needy for me already.” Agatha pulls back before kissing your neck. Sucking and nipping leaving reddish purple marks on your neck wanting people to know that you are taken. As she attacks your neck her hand moves back down between your bodies, her fingers pushing aside your panties. Swiping her fingers through your drenched folds teasing your entrance before easing her finger in. You squirm at the stretch. “Daddy.” You whine. “Shhhh, baby girl. Daddy is going to make you feel so good.” Her lips never leave your neck as she pumps her finger slowly in and out of your pussy. “Yes daddy.” You whimper.

She slowly starts to pick up her pace. A second finger joining the first as she pushes them both in. You grip her even tighter, digging your nails in whining at the slightly painful stretch. Small whimpers and moans leaving your lips egging her on to go faster curling her fingers. Your walls start to clamp down on her fingers letting her know that you are close. “D-Daddy I feel funny.” You whine trying to squirm away but Agatha growls digging her fingers into your hip. She quickens the pace wanting to see you fall apart around her fingers. She pulls back watching your face. Your face is scrunched up and you're trying to grip at any part of her that you can reach. “Let it go sweetheart. You can do it for daddy.” You shake your head, tears filling your eyes, but your body is telling a different story as your wall clamp around her fingers, your legs quivering. “You’ll feel so good. Just let it go. Don’t you want to cum all over daddy’s fingers?” You whimper and nod, finally letting the feeling take over you. Cum coating her fingers as she fucks you through your orgasm. Slowing down her pace before pulling out causing you to whimper at the loss. She pops her fingers in her mouth moaning at your taste. “Fuck sweetheart you taste devine. I should have done this earlier.” Your mind is hazy. She has you and your mind is hers.

Your panting and lean your head forward onto her shoulder as you try to regain your composure. Until you hear the sound of her zipper being undone. You pull back looking at her. She shuffles her pants and boxers down as a purple strap springs out. It is large and you wonder how it will fit inside of you. She watches you intently as her hand wraps around the appendage. She moans as she jerks it. Your eyes moving up to hers being met with blown pupils. “Fuck Daddy is going to be able to feel how wet and warm you are. How tight your little cunt is. Fuck when your cum coats my dick. I can explode just thinking about it.” She moves back between your legs, a confused look on your face. “Daddy enchanted this cock. I’m going to be able to feel all of your perfect pussy.” Her anticipation has her already swiping her strap through your folds gathering your juices onto it. Nudging your clit ever so slightly as she does before moving it down and nudging it at your entrance.

She slowly pushes in the head of her cock popping into your entrance and making you whine. “Daddy it won’t fit.” You already feel the painful stretch and so full from just the head. “I’ll make it fit sweetheart.” She kisses your lips to distract you as she slams forward fully sheathing herself in your warm tight pussy. You cry out at the painful stretch, her mouth swallowing your cries as you try and push her away but she is stronger than you. “Hurts Daddy.” You whine. “Shhh it’s ok daddy will make it feel better.” She starts to slowly thrust her hips. Tears are falling down your cheeks as she leans her forehead against yours wiping your tears away gently.

Keeping her pace slow but thrusting deep as she watches your face turn from scrunched up pain to melting into pleasure. Both hands dig harshly into your hips as she picks up her pace. Her patience wear thin as she needs to fuck you. To make you cum on her cock. “So fucking tight. Fuck!” She says her hips are snapping into you. Your pain gradually turns into pleasure the more she fucks you. Your legs wrapping around her waist and your fingers digging into her back. She smirks no longer holding back and jackhammering into your willing pussy. Both your moans filling the office. She is fucking into you so harshly that her desks squeaks on the floor and papers start to fall off her desk, but neither of you care.

“Mmm so good. You're such a good girl for me taking my cock.” She mumbles against your lips. The pleasure building causes your brain to turn to mush. Your moans bouncing off the walls. “G-Good.” Is all you’re able to mumble out.

Agatha’s hips slap against your ass as she continues to pound into you. Angling her hips perfectly to hit that spot deep inside you that you're seeing stars. Her thrust is becoming more erratic as your walls start to tighten around her cock. “Fuck! I’m going to fill this pussy so full of my cum. Would you like that baby girl? For Daddy to fill your pretty pussy with my cum? Get you pregnant, breed you. Make you my pretty little housewife. I bet you would look so hot swollen with my babies. Fuck keep you pregnant all the time just so I can fill your horney needs all the time. Continuously fill this pussy till you're dripping and so dumbed down you’ll still be begging for more.” You moan loudly a small gush of liquid coating her cock as you're turned on more. “Oh fuck you like that baby girl. I’ll make it come true. Keep you as mine forever.” Your walls clenching tightly around her cock making her moan.

“Please!” You moan out. You’re not sure what you're asking for whether it is to cum or for her to get you pregnant. You're close to falling over the edge again so you use your legs to pull her closer. Agatha is so close too. Her hand moving down and her thumb rubbing tight fast circles on your clit. Your loud moan edging her on. Her pace quickens again to an inhuman speed as she chases both of your highs. She feels you clench again. “Cum baby girl. Fuck! Cum on Daddy’s cock.”

That’s all it takes. You both fall over the edge at the same time. Liquid squirting out of you onto Agatha as you feel a warm sticky liquid paint your walls. You're both moaning as agatha continues to thrust, riding out both of your highs, her thumb still circling your clit. You whimper as it starts to become too much. She slows down her thrust until she stops leaving herself sheathed inside of you. Her hands firmly planted on either side of you on the desk as both of your chests heave. Your arms wrap tightly around her as you nuzzle into her neck.

Your mind and body are exhausted, but you feel complete like this is what you have always wanted in life. Your mind is absent of the original reason for coming into this office. Your only thoughts are filled with Agatha. You're both there in silence, the only sound is the sounds of your breathing. A comfortable silence between you two as you both enjoy the presence of one another.

Agatha pulls you back and you let out a small whine. She moves your hair out of your face and wipes the tears off your cheeks. She has the kindest, most gentle smiles as she kisses your forehead, then the tip of your nose, before kissing your lips gently leaning her forehead against yours. “Daddy needs to grade some papers. How about you be a good girl and sit on Daddy’s cock while she does that.” You nod. “Mkay Daddy.” Knowing that this night will change your life forever.

#fic request #agatha harkness x reader #agatha x fem reader #agatha x reader #agatha harkness #agatha harkness smut #agatha harkness x fem!reader #agatha harkness x reader smut #agatha harkness x you #agatha harkness x female reader #dark agatha harkness

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stevebabey · 2 years

Text

everything leads to you

a/n: gasp! another friends to lovers fic, u can’t stop me! will i write another trope? eventually. but not today hehe word count: 4.4k summary: you don’t want to read into the hints steve’s putting down and maybe, you’re a little clueless as well. fear not, robin’s here to hatch a plan to get two pining fools together. friends to lovers.

There were plenty of things Steve loved about you.

Be it your quick wit, your unabashed kindness for the kids, and especially your bright eyes, the wholesome energy that seemed to light up your entire body. Your obliviousness? He didn't love as much.

Well, maybe obliviousness is the wrong word. Whatever it is, it comes with your go-with-the-flow attitude, never wanting to give more weight to moments that didn't need them. And it worked well most of the time.

When Dustin had broken his wrist the first week into summer, goofing off at the skate bowl with the party — your house had been just around the corner and none of them had hesitated to hurry down and fetch you.

As you —albeit badly but hey, learners permit counts— drove Dustin to the hospital, he had cradled his wrist and asked if you wouldn't tell the others he had cried. "What crying?" you replied with a smile, taking your eyes off the road for a moment to smile comfortingly at him — then swerved to keep the car straight.

You'd done the same for Steve when he poured his heart out about Nancy at first the party after Tina's. Too heavy on the gin, you'd sensed his façade cracking and pulled him to the back porch. The last thing you needed was Steve dealing with any more whispers in the hallways tomorrow. Steve had felt pathetic, head in his hands, tears leaking through the cracks.

But you had dutifully listened throughout it all, resting your head on his shoulder to comfort him. And when you fed him the water and Advil that would save his life tomorrow, he whispered, words wobbling, "Can you not tell anyone about this?"

You smiled, nudging his hand that held the water glass, your voice matching his whisper. "About what?"

It's a sunshine trait of yours, sometimes bleeding into your genuinely terrible memory which happens to make you an expert secret keeper. But, it also means there is no such thing as hint-dropping with you. It's probably why you and Robin are best friends.

Steve's witnessed it before and it baffled him, the flow of conversation between the two of you which pinged about like a pinball machine. Robin's mouth moving at a million miles an hour and you, taking it all at face value without a second thought.

Most people get caught in Robin's whirlwind sentences, especially Steve who gets stuck the moment she seems to mention something left field. It's an art form, watching you nod and deliver the perfect response, having kept up with everything that falls out of Robin's mouth. Like now;

"See, Steve?" She calls over her shoulder from where she was leaning counter of Family Video, yourself on the other side. Steve was reshelving tapes, the stack high in his hands and it didn't seem to matter that he hadn't been a part of the conversation at all. In fact, Steve's not even sure who Robin's talking to when she calls out again. "Someone who can keep up!"

"Uh huh!" He calls back, moving enough tapes so he can peer over them. His heart jumps as he realises who it is, your eyes meeting across the store. You brighten, straightening up and sending a wave across the store. Steve goes to do the same instinctively, only realising his mistake when the tapes in his hands topple to the ground.

Crouching to pick them up is a saving grace; you won't be able to see the embarrassed ruby colour of his cheeks. He can hear Robin's usual jibe of 'dingus' at the counter, and by the time he's gathered all the tapes again, you're about ready to head out the door. You must be in a hurry, considering you usually take the time to talk to Steve as well.

"See-ya Robin!" You grin, pushing off the counter, and at the sight of Steve's head popping back up from between the shelves, you bid him goodbye as well, another yell across the store. "And bye Steve!"

It sends his heart thundering, your lively sunny disposition that Steve finds impossible to frown around. You have the unique ability to make him feel like a foolish 15-year-old again; reduced to pink cheeks and lines that never come out as smooth as they sound in his head. By the time he's re-shelved the stack and wandered back to the front counter, Robin is waiting. She leans backward, her back to the counter and elbows propped up.

"That might be your most dingus moment yet."

Steve grimaces, eyes narrowing. "Yeah, thanks for that." He speaks sarcastically, a hand combing through his hair.

"I don't understand why you get so weird around her," Robin began, winding a spare piece of twine between her fingers. "You two have been friends for the longest time; hell, she put up with you in high school. That deserves some type of award."

Steve busies himself, aligning tapes on the counter to avoid the blundering conversation with Robin. "I am not weird around her."

Robin snorts. "Yeah right — just know there's been another mental tally added to 'you suck'."

Steve scowls, his expression sarcastic at his best friend's words. Annoyingly, as usual, she made a decent point. You and Steve had been friends for a fairly long time, connections through each of your parents that meant the two of you inadvertently spent a lot of time together growing up.

You didn't exactly roll with the 'cool' kids when it came to high school, though mainly through the fact you didn't give a lick about popularity. Your friendly relationship with Steve likely kept your name out of the gutters, especially when he had to shoot down his friends who liked to jeer, asking why he was still friends with the likes of you.

Being friends with Jonathan Byers didn't help in that regard. In fact, technically, it could be blamed for dragging you into the absurd crazy situation of Will's disappearance. You had been there in the crucial moments, palm sliced and armed with the axe Joyce had battered the walls with, ready to fight a monster you'd never seen before for your friends.

But nothing was as seared in your mind as the pivotal moment when Steve came back.

You had just watched him scamper out the door, with half a mind to follow him but you wouldn’t do that to Jonathan or Nancy. And then in between the terrifying flashes of Christmas lights, your axe knocked from your hands, he had come back. Bursting back through the door he had just escaped through and saving all three of you.

And well, there are just some situations you can't through without getting closer on the other end.

It's not like you hadn't been friends before but after? Consider you joined at the hip. At some point, Steve realised that you had likely been the most consistent person in his life for, like, ever. Even now, you're here, still sticking around after batting practice on demodogs in the junkyard and busting him out of the Russian base. It's why Steve can't ruin it.

"Okay, there's no need to pout dude. That shit only works on y/n."

Steve blinks, pulled from his thoughts with a soft shake of his head. "M'not pouting." He mumbles, but can't shake the mopey expression in his head.

What a cruel world — you're close, but not close enough and Steve doesn't think he’s allowed to ask for anything more.

Robin sighs, tilting her head to examine Steve as she takes pity on him. Admittedly, she thought 'king steve' wasn't capable of being nervous but it took about three shifts at Scoops together for him to tank that assumption. You were his achilles heel, the crush he could never shake. And now, a year or so later, he was still pouting about it.

"Why haven't you just... tried asking her out?"

"Yeah, right." Steve scoffed but then he gave a sigh, realising he wasn't being helpful. "Look, I do want to— but she’s probably my oldest friend at this point and the last thing I want to do is build myself to ask her out and then try pretend that the rejection won't kill me completely."

In a nervous motion, Steve dragged a hand down his face, muffling a frustrated groan. Robin had the urge to call him a drama queen but held her tongue for once, seemingly aware that he would just keep rambling if she kept silent.

"So, instead I’ve tried, like, drop some hints—"

"Hints?"

"Yes, hints!” Steve repeated, louder this time. “Like, I don't know, lingering touches — the moves I used to put on girls! y/n's seen me pick up chicks before."

"Hello! Are we friends with the same y/n?” Robin's face twisted into a perturbed expression, flinging her hands out in front of her as she spoke. “You know that even if she's picking up any hints, she'd never comment on them. That's like, what she does best."

Steve's brain stopped reeling for a moment, stunned. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t considered that before. Robin barreled on, stealing his attention once more.

"Look," she began, voice softer and sincere. "I can do my best to talk to her but—"

"Yes!"

"But," She emphasized. "No promises, Harrington."

Steve nodded, his heart thundering a little faster at the prospect. "Okay, yeah, wing-woman me."

Then, as if he remembered who his best friend was, Steve raised his brows in her direction. "You know this means you’ll have to say nice things about me."

Robin rolled her eyes. "Surprisingly enough, dingus, I'm a pretty decent wing-woman when I'd like to be."

Steve couldn't contain his snort. "Oh yeah, to who?"

The argument over who was the better wing-person kept them both entertained for the rest of the shift.

—

It’s a little surprising when the tape Robin dumps onto the couch beside you, along with some candied popcorn from work, is Sixteen Candles.

Mainly surprising when you consider Robin’s usual distaste for romance films — “I’ll watch em’ when they start putting the hot ladies with equally hot ladies, instead of bland men.” she had said when you’d first asked.

But obviously, that didn’t seem to apply to tonight.

“Not that I mind,” You begin, picking up the tape and flipping it over in your hands. “But why the genre switch? I thought we said we were watching ‘Once Upon A Time In America’?”

Robin flopped down beside you on the couch, swinging her legs up onto your lap and releasing a sigh large enough it looked as though her entire body deflated a bit.

“I know but I’ve gotta ask you some lovey-dovey questions and this will make you so much more pliable.”

You double-take, mind stuttering as it pings off in every direction. Lovey-dovey questions? Robin gives nothing away, simply cracking open the popcorn and shoveling it into her mouth. Her enthusiasm made you wonder if she’d skipped dinner at work again, too forgetful to bring some with her but Robin only lifted her feet from your lap.

“Be a dear, won’t you?”

Smiling amused, you slid off the couch and unboxed the tape, feeding it into the slot. The screen flickered, grains distorted before it focused and the opening sequence began. You tailed back to the couch, lifting Robin’s ankles and letting them land back in your lap as you sit.

Robin offers the bag of popcorn and you snag a handful, still eyeing her suspiciously. You’re surprised when she stays composed, eyes trained on the screen and you take the hint: she’ll ask her questions whenever she feels like it.

You let yourself enjoy the movie; you’ve seen it a dozen times now, reciting lines along as it goes. “I can’t believe they forgot my birthday.” you whisper along and Robin nudges you with her foot, grinning at your performance.

It’s nearly halfway through the film when Robin finally speaks up, turning her eyes on you — you do your best to pretend the potential questions haven’t been distracting you the whole film.

“So,” she begins and you have the acute feeling that you’re being studied. “Steve.”

“Steve?” you echo, confused, and turn to face her.

“I just noticed he’s been nice to you recently. Extra nice. Abnormally nice. Like I have to beg the dingus to pick me up from parties but he offers you the moment you mention them! Didn’t he bring you a strawberry shake the other day for no reason? Just ‘cos you like them?” In typical Robin-fashion, the words fly out one after the other without a break in between. When she finally pauses, you blink and try to process all her words.

“Yeah, but Steve’s just being nice?” You don’t mean for it to come out as a question but all of a sudden, it’s a great question. Of course, you’ve been secretly reveling in the niceties that Steve gives only to you; your cheeks hot and heart thumping whenever your thoughts drift back to the boy.

“Right?” You ask, the movie is completely forgotten as you try to pick apart the implication of Robin’s words. The next words escape you before you can register what you’re saying. “You don’t think he likes me, do you?”

Even saying the words aloud makes you flush, lips twitching up at the thought and you remember Robin’s scrutinizing gaze a moment too late.

“Aha!” She scrambles up from her spot on the couch, launching over to your side. “I knew it, I knew it. You like him.”

You splutter, trying to recover but it’s fruitless as Robin presses her hands to your cheeks and feels the undeniable warmth of your blush. It doesn’t help that she continues in a sing-song voice, “You’re blushing.”

You huff a laugh and push her hands off your face, resolve crumbling as you admit. “Fine! I just... I didn’t want to read into anything. He could just be being nice, Robs.”

Robin grins, tucking her hair behind her ears as she relents her closeness, leaning back to slouch on the couch now that she gotten you to crack. “Somehow I doubt that. I can’t believe it — I was on the money! I told Steve you’d say something like that.”

For the first time in your friendship with Robin, you’re barely able to keep up. each new sentence sends your mind reeling but by the time you open your mouth, she’s barreling on.

“You have to tell him. obviously. The dingus is completely enamored with you. It’s been drivin’ me crazy at work whenever you come in — I swear he loses at least half his brain cells when you’re nearby.”

“Wha— did he tell you?” You wince at how excited it comes out, unable to help the glee that leaks into your words. Robin, thankfully, doesn’t comment on it.

"No! But it doesn't take an idiot to figure it out."

"Well,” you smile mischievously “You are an idiot."

Abruptly, a pillow hits you over the head, thrown by Robin and you begin to laugh as she pelts you with another, muttering about ‘never trying to set up her shitty friends again.’ "Ow! Okay, I was kidding!"

Robin finally halts her attack and huffs, blowing a stray piece of hair from her face. She fixes you with a pointed look. "You'll be the idiot now if you don't do anything about this."

You can’t help the way the pout on your lips, a thousand excuses rushing up your throat but all that comes out is, “ughhhh.” because Robin is right. Robin is always right.

Your eyes flick to the television and you can see Robin biting her lip in suspense, wondering whether she’ll have to continue playing matchmaker for the next month until one of you bites the bullet and does something.

“We finish Sixteen Candles first,” You point to the television and can’t help the giddy grin, nerves and excitement combined in your stomach. “Then, we plan.”

—

Steve doesn’t know what’s got Robin so antsy.

Sure, half of the time Robin walks around like she’s got ants in her pants, skittish and unable to sit still for too long. But this is a different sort of antsy than Steve has become accustomed to — shit, did she give coffee another try?

Steve does his best to ignore her pacing, pushing the reshelving cart through the aisles idly as he works through the last 20 minutes of his shift. He does manage to get at least half of them done before his attention is stolen again by Robin picking up the phone, 5 minutes before he’s done. Peculiarly, she’s not answering a call but instead making one.

She turns and steals a glance at Steve, then looks at the time and Steve just knows she’s up to something.

Eyes narrowed in suspicion, Steve pushes the cart back to the counter and abandons it, leaning back on the counter opposite Robin. She speaks into the receiver of the phone, clutching it with both hands and Steve feels a pang of worry in his chest — nothing’s happened, right? Before he can get a chance to ask, Robin is slamming the phone down and spins around to face Steve.

“Who was that?”

“Doesn’t matter. The real question, Steve, is why didn’t you shave today?”

The question takes him aback, surprised enough that when Robin comes closer, she gets about an inch within his hair before Steve remembers to duck. He swerves away from her fussing hands, brows raised.

“Woah, woah! What are you doing? You know you can’t touch the hair!” Steve whines, reaching up to fix it. “What’s all the fuss about? Who’d you call?”

Robin, incessantly annoying and usually unable to be quiet for the life of her, is quiet. Seemingly sworn to silence, she just chuckles and shakes her head, eyes bright.

“Nobody!” she says loudly because apparently, she can’t lie very well either.

Steve scrunches his nose, confused. He considers puzzling over it, sure that with enough pressure Robin would crack and release her secrets as she always did. But a glance at the clock tells him it had just hit 6 o’clock. He’s a free man.

Steve shrugs off his vest without a moment to waste, already feeling lighter knowing that he could enjoy the rest of his day off — as much as he enjoys getting paid to stand and chat with his best friend, Keith worked the other half of this day, and any shift with Keith was considered a bad one.

“Okay,” Steve finally speaks, gathering up his items from behind the counter and swinging his keys around his fingers. “Well, don’t burn the place down while I’m gone, alright?”

Robin was nodding fervently, still attached to the desk beside the phone and attempting to look casual. She seemed a tad too distracted, eyes dancing past him into the parking lot of the Family Video store.

“Hey, did you ever— I mean, did you, uh, wing-woman me at all? I know you two had your usual movie night last night.” The words come out more nervous than Steve intends and he clears his throat, willing his cheeks to stay cool.

“Yeah!” Robin responds instantly, the word nearly shouted and Steve blinks, leaning forward into the counter eagerly. He waits for a moment to see what she would say, only growing more confused as she twists her lips to keep any further words from tumbling out.

“So? What— did she seem interested? Do I have a chance?”

“I think,” Robin squeaks, as though she can’t contain the glee in her voice. “You better just go ask her yourself.”

She extends her arm out, one finger pointing out the glass windows to the parking lot. Steve follows it, spinning quickly to spy what she was referring to and— there you are, leaning against his car and looking pretty as ever. You’re reclined against the driver’s door, a book clasped in your hands and your head bent over it, lost in the story.

Steve whips back around, only slightly more nervous than he had been a second ago, and hisses at Robin, as if you could hear them all the way from the parking lot.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“What d’ya mean ‘what does that mean?’ Go talk to her dingus. I’ve worked my magic.”

Steve pauses, his limbs locked as he scours Robin’s expression to make 100% sure that she wasn’t pulling his leg. It would be a tad too cruel for her usual pranks, some remnant worry leftover from his previous friendship with Tommy H that makes him worry, but Steve relaxes at what he finds on her face. Barely restrained joy, her bottom lip trapped in an attempt to hide her grin.

Despite knowing Steve can trust her with this, it doesn’t deter his nerves which are beginning to feel fried as he peeks over his shoulder, stealing another glance at you leaning against his car.

The peach-coloured sundress you’re wearing flutters in the wind and that doesn’t help either, Steve swallowing down a groan at how bewitching you look, wrapped up in the evening sunlight.

He steels his nerves. With a terse nod to Robin, Steve starts out the door, barely hearing what Robin calls out to him as he goes.

“If you have any lip-balm it would be a good time to—”

The rest of her sentence is sealed inside the store as the door hisses shut. Steve tries not to overthink that sentence, thankful his lips don’t feel chapped as he licks them nervously. He approaches the car, trying his best to shove down the nervous feelings and appear somewhat charming. Harrington Charm, he thinks to himself.

“Hey, stranger.” He greets, an easy smile tugging at his mouth as you look up from your book. He tries not to revel in the delight that perks up your expression, previously furrowed in concentration as you squinted to read your book.

“Hi.” You reply sweetly, snapping the book shut and holding it to your chest as you cross your arms shyly. Then, you seem to think the better of it, spinning and placing it upon the roof of Steve’s car before turning back to him — you hope your smile isn’t giving away your jitters. The plan, you think to yourself, stick to the plan. What was that again?

“Not that m’complaining but I gotta ask wh--”

“Do you trust me?” You don’t mean to cut him off but the words rush out the moment you gather enough courage to say them. “I- I wanna try something.”

He responds too quick. “Sure, yeah, anything.”

A flush crawls up his neck, embarrassed over his over-eagerness that is surely giving him away. But he doesn’t get time to recover, about to stammer out a poor cover-up, because your hands reach up to cup his face and then you’re kissing him.

You’re kissing him.

It’s a whirlwind; there’s a rush of emotions bursting through in Steve’s chest, a sudden surge of utter euphoria wrapped in surprise that sets each of his senses alight. It’s like he’s been struck with lightning, his world cleaved in half — all the moments leading up to this kiss and all the moments that will come after. Everything leading to this, to you.

Your soft and supple lips pause for a moment, prepared to pull back and deal with the damage in case you’ve been led wrong by Robin but Steve doesn’t let you — his hands finally awaken and there is a desperation, a fervor, hidden in the gentle motions of his hands which cup your jaw and pull you closer.

He kisses, deeper this time, as though he’s trying to learn the curve of your mouth all in one go, memorizing it as he drinks in the affection from you. Your hands are in his hair, arms around his neck to pull him evermore closer. Steve swears that he can recognize the warmth of love in the press of your lips, familiar, as you’ve loved each other all this time and yet, it’s new.

The kiss feels like ‘where have you been?’ whispered from both of you, a mixture of desperation and relief.

‘right here. i’m just been waiting for you to find me’.

“You kissed me.” Steve breathes, shock coating each word — the only thing he can think to say after your lips part. It’s uttered with such disbelief that for a moment, you seriously wonder if Robin fed you a whole bunch of nonsense despite the kiss that just set your heart racing.

“I did.” You whisper, eyes darting over his face to try to decipher his expression. Beneath his faint freckles, the skin blooms pink and you hope, you pray it’s a blush — it certainly feels like there’s a fire beneath your skin after that kiss.

“Is that alright?” A moment of worry where your heart feels suspended halfway up your throat but then, he smiles. Bright and brilliant, the spell of shock is broken and it launches him in action, his hands caressing the side of your face tenderly.

“Yes! Holy shit, yes, that’s more than alright, I just—” His sentence breaks off when he captures your lips with his once more and he hums lovingly into the kiss. Something inside you preens, knowing now that he undoubtedly has wanted this as much as yourself.

He pulls back, breath a little ragged “You just took me by surprise, sweet girl.”

The pet-name makes you soften unbearably, leaning into his chest and nuzzling into the hand that holds your cheek. As if your adoration isn’t evident enough, your prepped explanation springs to mind and spills out your mouth without a second thought.

“I'm sorry, I'm not too good with words so Robin thought a kiss would work— and, I'm sorry I missed your hints, I was worried I might be reading into something and mfh—"

Your words are smothered beneath another chaste kiss and you don’t even mind, already stretching up onto your toes to kiss him harder, fingers curling around the fabric of his polo shirt. Breathless is how you feel, pulling back after a moment and feeling something close to drunk off Steve’s kisses — your head is spinning again and it makes your face split into a wide grin, then giddy laughter tumbles out before you can stop it.

“Never—” Steve begins, leaning forward to lean his forehead against your own. The tip of his nose brushes yours and you feel delirious, enchanted by the ardent and affectionate look in his eyes. “ —apologise for kissing me. You can— Christ, you can kiss me anytime you like.”

You’re aware the expression on your face betrays just how enamored you are with him, with this moment; the rays of the setting sun travel through the trees and blanket the parking lot in a soft burnt amber.

“Anytime?” you ask sweetly, reveling in the warmth of his chest under your palms and the fire in his grin.

His eager kiss, fervent and stirring, is answer enough.

—

tags below!

@hawkinsindiana @harringtonbf @parkerroos @cptnleviackerman @skylergisondo @cultivatingkindness @aphrodites-perfume @lurkymurker @familyvideostevie @rogersharringtons @sattlersquarry @yellowharrington @milkiane

#it's a bit long and it feels waffley but hopefully u bitches LIKE waffles #mainly i pray u can't tell if wrote this is two separate batches #is my writing consistent? only tell me if yes otherwise shhhh #KENNY this was the FIRST sweet girl line i wrote and i wrote it AWHILE back hehehe #stevie ur welcome to kiss ME anytime you'd like #he deserves a good smooch #and i volunteer #ruby writes #ruby writes steve #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve x reader #steve harrington fic #steve fic #steve harrington imagine #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things imagine

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weirdmarioenemies · 1 month

Text

The Critic's Arrival

It appears we've been visited by some sort of critic. We didn't order any critic! Are you a film critic? Food critic?

"The name's THE Critic- get it right! I ridicule, just out of spite! And now you've got me at your door, You've no idea what you're in for! For I'm The Critic, that's no ruse! I'm here to criticize all youse!"

Oh? You're here to criticize us...? I don't think I like whatever it is you're imply- oh, he's already invited himself in. Okay! So, Mr. The Critic, can I... get you something to drink, I guess? We certainly have a lot of water.

"That's all you offer? You're the worst! Good thing I've not much of a thirst! This living room... it's oh so drab. And are you serious? A CRAB? Your home decor is just no good. I'd burn this poster if I could! You must have all been in the dark, For not a soul likes Wonder Park!"

Come on... Boomer the Ride Tester is funny... right? Is there anything else we can do to make your stay more comfortable? And maybe make you more polite?

"I hope my message makes you cry: This home of yours is much too dry!"

Is that so? At least here in Wet-Dry World, that's easy to fix! I'll just activate this Crystal Tap and raise the water...

"This isn’t any better yet. The whole affair’s now far too wet!"

Oh... how about a more neutral level?

"The moisture level’s at its middle, But I’m afraid, too late too little! You just can't seem to be a winner! Now, with that done, let's have some dinner!"

Okay, I've been trying to be polite, but you can't just be mean to us and expect to receive a free meal for it! Spikey's only made enough potatoes au gratin for us mods!

"Oh, THAT'S the stench? It's just some gratin? I could have sworn something was rotten! I see you're near fed up with me, And knowing that fills me with glee!"

Why are you doing this, The Critic? Why us? What did we do to you?

"Well, here's what's written in my log: You lot all run a Tumblr blog! Where posts are foolish, simply silly, Goofy creatures willy-nilly! You don't need to be analytic To know you're talking to The Critic. It's how I live, it's what I do. I've come here to criticize YOU!"

Hey. Words really hurt, you know that, The Critic? But no matter what you say, you can't break our spirits! We'll post what we want no matter what you say!

"Now comes the part I love the most... rescinding your license to post!"

OUR POSTING LICENSE?! The only thing that legally allows us to post about funny pretend creatures online... you're a monster! Unhand that license this instant!

"Ha ha! Hee hee! It's too much fun! And with that, I'll be on the run! Your permit's all I need to rob. I hope you've got a backup job!"

He's gone. That utter fiend... without our posting license, we're nothing. He's right. We'll need a new job. After all this time, we'll need to return to where it all began, where all of us met for the first time, and where we all worked before starting this blog, but it was never relevant so we never mentioned it...

...the TROUT HATCHERY! See you there...

#weird mario enemies #the critic #the critic arc #april fools

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lilliankoo · 7 months

Text

wanna play you like a game: jeon jungkook. 0

series masterlist!

pairing: villian? antagonist! tribe leader jk x princess! y/n.

trope: "he's mean to everyone but worships the ground you walk on" will absolutely do anything for you, strangers to lovers.

word count: 1.5k-ish (short caus this is an intro?)

warnings: nothing too bad lmao….yet. conditions, mentions abt blessings from a deity/goddess, power dynamics, talks abt manipulating a man *clears throat*, bowing, one forehead kiss 😘, controlling mother. I apologize if I missed anything.

author’s note: how dare i release a new series while titanic! is barely done.. english is not my first language so…, not a professional writer. im an occasional writer meaning I write when i feel like writing or get that random motivation so expect slightly late updates.

While humming one of the lullabies she used to sing to you as a child, your mother finishes braiding the pink ribbon in your hair. She reaches for the brush on the dresser and brushes your hair one last time. She looks at you, more like your reflection in the mirror, as she places her brush-clad hand on your shoulder. As you stare at her, your brows are furrowed and your lips are pursed. Your mother makes eye contact and adds, "You dread me now, but trust me, you will thank me later." "How can you treat your own daughter like this?" You ask her with grief in your voice but have given up fighting her for whatever reason. You have made the choice not to yell and cry at your mother's heartless decision.

Being the only daughter of “mir konvo’s” king, you truly don't have any other choice. you got to know yesterday that you are being "offered" to the head of the forest tribe, Jeon Jungkook; who is even more powerful than your father's entire empire and is known as the most powerful man. His forest known as “lav” completely encloses your "mir konvo", While Jeon Jungkook dominates the entire Lav Forest, your father rules Mir Konvo-which is also known as the “heart of lav” since its right in the middle of the forest. For hundreds of years, your kingdom and the Jeon tribe had a peaceful agreement under which your people were permitted to use the forest trail to conduct trade with other kingdoms, with no involvement on the part of the Jeon tribe. However, the Jeon tribe simply requested rice and gold as payment. This agreement has been effective for years, but Jeon Jungkook, the current tribe head, has destroyed it and established a new requirement. He now demands your hand in marriage or otherwise he will seal all pathways leading to the mir konvo, seize control of the kingdom, and assassinate the current king—your father—if you refuse. The entire country is aware of the forest goddess' blessing on the Jeon tribe, according to which no man will ever be able to defeat or oppose them. Which naturally leads to your father immediately signing the treaty and beginning the "preparations" for your marriage out of fear.

Now, back to your question. your mother sighs and stands in front of you. Holding your shoulders, your mother whispers quietly, "Listen to me and listen to me very carefully." "No man can resist a woman in this world. There is a reason a strong man like him would want to wed you. Take advantage of this, dominate him, break him, and make it difficult for him to live without you" she says while looking at you. The venom that drips from her words is quite evident, her jaw is clenched and her hands are digging your shoulders. And you exactly understand what she means by that. you pay keen attention to her words, thinking about them over and over again. looking at your frightened expression, your mother asks you, "Do you understand?" You take a cautious breath and nod hesitantly in agreement.

The entire palace is decorated and adored with white flowers. The orchestra plays a light tune- the atmosphere is serene yet tense. Everyone is displaying their fake contentment but in reality everyone is scared- including you. your father is standing near the window looking outside- his crown is not on his head, royal mantle no longer on his shoulders. from his disheveled hair to dark circles under his eyes- anyone can tell he is distressed. you walk over to him and stand by his side.

“What is on your mind, father?” you ask him. your father sighs deeply and looks at you.

“He is an evil man, your mother is not thinking-” your father’s words are cut abruptly by your mother’s voice.

“I am doing this because of the kingdom’s safety, no man can defeat him, you will die if you stand against him!” your mother shouts at your father. “you are not seeing this through my eyes, nothing will happen to y/n” she adds while maintaining eye contact with him. you stand there confused and look at the encounter between them two. He drops his head low and nods at your mother. He doesn't say anything but looks at you with subtle tears in his eyes.

The moment is cut short when one of the soldier’s runs inside to inform your father that they need to leave as soon as possible. Another condition jungkook proposed was that the marriage will take place in the forest and only three people can join- you, your father and your mother.

That's how you find yourself in a carriage with your parents. your mother is well dressed while your father is dressed modestly. The commute to the lav forest isn’t that far, that's why your carriage reaches the lav village’s entrance gate in 3 hours. you step out of the carriage and your mother quickly helps you fix your skirts and dress. There’s no man in sight to receive your family. Your father looks around to see if there is any member of jeon tribe and he sees no one. The atmosphere is too quiet and serene. The leaves rustle while the wind lightly breezes.

“the carriage stay here, come” a sudden voice of a man coming from behind you pulls you out of your trance. You turn around and see a man no older than 25, dressed in leather and furs, his left hand holding a spare, his long hair reaching his back. He is incredibly handsome- you can't deny that fact. The man looks at you then motions your father to follow him. You and your parents follow the man and enter the village- the route isn’t too difficult, the path is smooth with no stones in sight and you are sure that it was cleared for your comfort and ease. After 10 minutes of walking, the huts and houses start appearing. You can see people sneakingly looking at your family from their windows- some are whispering while others cryptically smile your way.

In some distance you can see a platform and a crowd surrounding it. The stage-like platform is only a few feet taller from the ground, and has two chairs in the centre. You can see few people standing on it having conversations- some are in serious conversation while others are laughing. you and your parents stand a few feet away from the stage and wait for the next instructions. you intertwine your hand with your fathers’ and squeeze it. you look around when suddenly everyone goes silent and falls to their knees- bowing at the person coming out from the big hut- situated behind the platform. The alleged man is dressed in black leather and furs, some of his hair tied back, there’s evident anger and fury in his eyes as he storms your way- in that moment, it is evident that the man walking your way is your future husband- jeon jungkook. Everyone around you is on their knees- including your parents. And out of fear, you bend your knees so you can bow too but suddenly someone grabs both of your shoulders and makes you stand straight. you look up in confusion and see him. Long gone is the anger from his eyes- all you see right now is love and affection. In an instant, Jungkook drops on his knees in front of you and bows. The entire village is bowing to him while he is on his knees for you.

your breath hitches because you do not know what you are supposed to do. Having a powerful man like Jungkook on his knees in front of you is a lot to handle. Your hands shakingly reach for his shoulders and you make him stand up. Jungkook stands up to his full height and towers above you. He cradles your jaw affectionately in both of his hands and kisses your forehead. you're confused and scared. Confused because he is not scary like he is described as and scared because he is alarmingly close to you. You avoid his eyes and look around. Everyone is still on their knees and you feel bad. You look at him and then the people bowing- and surprisingly he understands.

“Everyone stand up!” he shouts and everyone shuffles to stand up.

Then, jungkook smiles at you and your parents before saying “shall we begin the ritual ?”.

next: episode 1 - the pink ribbon

#jungkook fic #jungkook recs #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook #jungkook smut #jungkook #bts jungkook #jeon jungguk #jk fic #jungkook possessive #bts fic

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outofmydepthatapublicbeach · 2 months

Note

hi babyy could you write julien x reader based on once more to see you by mitski?

jj chats: okay so i didn't know this song until now and now i am completely in love with it. anon: are you okay?? this song is so good but so heartbreaking!! also this is major angst and in my opinion very sad.

warnings: RPF, use of y/n, secret relationship, reader feels the relationship cannot continue for some reason (its not specified so you can think of whatever you want, not out yet, don't want the public to know), pet names used (baby, sweetheart), reader and julien cry, sad ending.

feedback is encouraged and i'd love to get some just please be kind!!!

“In the rearview mirror, I saw the setting sun on your neck, And felt the taste of you bubble up inside me”

Months of hidden truths, of abhorrence towards those who permitted you two from being together. Months of hiding behind tinted windows and keeping traces of your love away from anyone. Julien and you were getting so damn tired. You started to fight about it, about the hiding. You were two grown people, why couldn’t you just be happy together? Sitting in the driver's seat, Julien was facing a lake. One of your many secluded spots, this one in particular held precious moments. Julien glanced at the rearview mirror, watching as you paced back and forth. The sky cast a golden hue onto your face, making your eyes look as if they were glowing.

As Julien watched your movements she felt warmer and lighter. She knew she couldn’t live without you. She shook her head, she couldn’t stand seeing you so upset. She opened the car door and stepped out, advancing towards you.

“But with everybody watching us, our every move”

“Julien, please. Get back in the car,” you pleaded. Hands reaching towards your head, running quick fingers through your hair, and then holding onto your neck in an attempt to soothe yourself.

“No,” Julien retorted. “I won’t get back in the car (Y/N).”

“But-”

“But nothing! I am not going to let you leave me!” Julien boomed. The early evening air was chilly, which added to both of your stress.

“We do have reputations, we keep it secret, won't let them have it”

Your eyes started to tear up as you stared at your lover, “Julien we can’t,” you stammered. “What would people say?”

Julien took another step towards you, her eyes full of worry. She thought of anything that could ease you. “I know that it is hard, keeping us a secret. But if the only other alternative is losing you then it doesn’t matter to me. I’ll be with you any way you want.”

Her words caused your heart to ache, “I want to be with you. I just don’t want them to know yet, I'm not ready.” Your teary eyes overflooded and your cheeks were now red, you choked out “I want to keep what happens between us. That won’t ever work. They’ll find out somehow, they always do.”

“So come inside and be with me, alone with me, alone, with me alone”

Julien hesitated, worried if she took a step close that you might run and never come back. “Not with us. I promise baby, I will protect you.”

You shook your head, turning away from her. Your arms snaking up your torso, holding yourself together like tape.

“Just come back to me, I’ll make everything okay.” Julien gulped.

“If you would let me give you pinky promise kisses, then I wouldn't have to scream your name, atop of every roof in the city of my heart”

Julien, with a newfound confidence, walked right up to you and held you close to her body. “My heart yearns for you, baby I need you. I would do anything for you.”

“Julien we can’t-”

“Let me promise you this sweetheart, that we’ll be okay, alright?” Julien lets go to spin you around, making you face her straight on, her hand gently wrapped around your wrists, holding you still. “I love you so much. My heart beats a language only you can understand, it's locked by a key only you possess. I love you so much it hurts baby.” Julien pauses, searching your eyes for something that she doesn’t find. “You own my heart (Y/N), let me prove that to you. Please, baby.” Julien, how always to stoic one between the two of you, was now a mess of tears. Her own eyes reddened and tears fell from her chocolate brown irises.

You gain enough momentum to leave Julien’s grasp. As much as you want to stay, some malevolent force pulls you from her arms. “I’m so sorry. I can’t. I can’t do this anymore Julien. I can’t.”

“Please baby, please don’t,” Julien whimpers, trying to reach for you.

You pull away from her fast, your legs moving you to your car at record speed. As you get further away you start to hear the dreadful noise of Julien’s sobs.

“If I could see you, once more to see you”

Julien felt as if a bomb had gone off in her chest, decimating her heart, and shredding her lungs. The air doesn’t feel right around her, the sky too cheery.

You weren’t doing much better, once in your car you broke down. You punched the steering wheel, tears streaming down your face in a constant flow.

The end of a prologue that should have been the epilogue. The beginning of something that should have lasted to the end. Now it was just a precursor to the future sequences of events that both of you dreaded more than your worst fears.

Neither of you wanted to lose each other, yet that is what you both got.

#julien baker x reader #boygenius x reader #julien baker fanfic #julien baker fluff #mitski song fic #anon #req #julien baker au #julien baker one shot #julien baker angst

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sirthisisa-wendys · 10 months

Note

Ahhh Wendy! I hope you get this before your askbox closes! Pls pls pls write a part 2 for “It’s Just An Arrangement” if you can! I’m dying to see what happens next!

It's Just an Arrangement (Part 2): Ran Haitani x Fem!Reader

wc: 561

tw: kidnapping

masterlist

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Finale

The first thing you realize when you wake up is that you have a very dry mouth. You smack your lips together, hazily coming-to as your mouth tries but fails to start up your saliva glands.

The second thing you experience is a sharp smell. You jolt, your nose curling as the odor of ammonia cuts through the darkness. And it's dark. You only have a vague awareness of the space around you - but you confirm with a few glances that you are, in fact, not in your bedroom where you slept without Ran. You're somewhere else, somewhere... awful.

A dull ache echoes in your bones as you try to sit up, but as you wriggle your arms and legs, you can't seem to free them. Panic rises in your throat, and you shout for help, the piercing cry echoing in the empty room.

"Hello?"

Your voice is nothing more than a croaking of doom. But you won't stop fighting. "Hello?" You yank at your bodily restraints and hear the clinking of metal against metal.

Wait.

You pause in your efforts, feeling something in your memory come back to you. You had an argument with Ran. Another endless, drawn-out way for him to tell you that the arrangement would never change. You weren't permitted to look outside of the marriage for companionship either. It would be too risky, too shame-inducing. So, you had to pretend. Then you remember Ran walking out of the kitchen while you were mid-sentence, and--

Light floods into your eyes as a door opens, and for a brief second, you hope that whatever you're suffering is simply a vivid nightmare. You hiss and look away; eyes stinging from the sudden contact.

"Looks like you're awake." Your skin crawls as a shadow waltzes into the room, and someone chuckles lazily. "Sorry to bring you here like this, Mrs. Haitani. But it seems that people aren't getting the message in Bonten."

"What do you want from me?" you ask, voice shakier than you intended it to be.

"I don't want anything from you except full cooperation. If that happens, you'll get out of here in no time, alright?" Another light switches on - but this one is further away. You try to catch a glimpse of who the man is, but you can't seem to make out any features.

You don't reply to the comment, but as soon as you see a flashlight shining your way, you flinch. "Say 'hello', princess." You look back and see the phone aimed at your face. "Tell your husband you're here with me."

"H-hi..." You want to interrupt the man and tell him that you're the last person he should have kidnapped if he wanted to get a ransom. But he continues in his drawling.

"You've got five days if you want to see her alive again. Five days. I want my money, Haitani. You owe me." The flashlight clicks off, and you exhale, looking away from the camera and at the ground. "Thank you for being so good." The man's cooing disgusts you, but you swallow your words and nod.

"I need some water," you croak, but the man doesn't pay any attention to you. He just gathers his things and leaves you alone, still tied up and immobile.

All your life, you've been a pawn. And now is no different.

#tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x reader #ran haitani #ran haitani x reader

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j0eyj0rdis0n · 8 months

Note

HEHAHHAH I HAVE AN IDEA cowboy tim as a father figure but to the edgy teens 👹👹👹 UR WRITING IS SO GOOD DUDEEE AHHH

RAAAA YES!! I’m so glad you’re enjoying! Thank you for your support <3

COWBOY FATHER FIGURE TIM

OKAY back at it

Like I said previously he makes breakfast every morning for his kids, and he still does that!! But this time it’s at the ass crack of dawn!

So these kids are UP at the very latest 6:30

Like alarms go off at 5:00

Hope they didn’t spend too much time up late last night 😬

Beds are made every morning too. Sick exceptions only.

Every kid has chores to do since they’re living on the farm (list of chores below)

Every kid has a horse too, they ride them to school like any good hick would (just because you’re edgy doesn’t mean you don’t pick stuff up from your dad!)

Of course he lets them pick what horse they want too

If the weather doesn’t permit them riding to school then they’re all crammed in the back of Tim’s beat up pickup

But he teaches his kids how to break horses, how to ride, take care of them, all that

He wants them to be able to carry on the farm when he’s not around to

He begs the kids to put on western wear, whether that’s a hat, boots, chaps, or even damn blue jeans, he doesn’t care what just please do him a favor

He’d be so proud to see his kids all dressed up and riding in a rodeo

Like he’d definitely cry

Also I feel like if the kids wanted he’d let them have a bonfire with their friends

Everyone would think he’s a super cool dad (cause he is)

ANYWAYS! Chores!

These are all shared between Tim and whatever kids he has

Milk the cows

Collect eggs

Feed all the animals

Muck out the stalls

Care for all other animals

Sweep, dust, and mop (because the windows are always open and no one takes off shoes in the house so dust and dirt gets everywhere)

Dishes! You ate off of it you clean it!

Laundry

Cut wood (if needed)

Mow the lawn

Weed gardens

Shovel snow

Maintain horses/ keep up with things they need

#creepypasta #marble hornets #creepypasta hcs #creepypasta headcannons #creepypasta requests #tim wright #masky #masky marble hornets #masky headcanons #tim wright headcanons #cowboy tim

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 8 months

Note

AITA for refusing to babysit?

I(17 ftm) frequently babysit my siblings, D(4m) and J(7m). J doesn't need to be babysat as much as supervised, but he's very needy / always wants to be doing something together, so I usually spend as much active time babysitting him as much as I do D(for example, J refuses to read on his own and prefers it when I read to him).

We're currently in the middle of moving, and my mom(44 W) often will drop me and the kids off at the library or the park or something for hours so that she can pack. I don't super mind this, but it's exhasting. They fight like cats. And I love them, but I'm also going into my senior year in a couple days, so I've been a little irratable too from the stress of packing and school and whatnot. This is all to say I've been babysitting a LOT recently.

My mom wanted me to babysit tonight for about two hours so she could take J to his open house and meet his teachers for the upcoming school year. I was 100% okay with this, and came downstairs when it was about time for them to leave. D gets a lot of seperation anxiety though, so when I heard my mom and him in the kitchen near the back door I knew she was probably trying to leave, so I got up came in to try and help. I tried to distract him by getting him to play with me at the table, but he wouldn't listen. As things progressed I also tried to comfort him and say we should go watch a show on the couch, but that also didn't work. At this point J is in the car and mom is standing in the doorway.

Mom then leaves to walk to the car, but doesn't shut the door, which makes D try and follow her out. He's crying and yelling at this point about how he "wants to leave". I was trying to very gently pull him back and say we could watch them go and wave as they pulled out, but I didn't want him leaving the doorway, since it would be 100% harder to get him back inside once he actually left the house.

A huge ass butterfly flew by while we were doing this. I tried to distract him and say "look at the butterfly!!" but it didn't work and he kept yelling he "wants to leave". MOM them mishears and starts yelling at me to let him go, so I do, but then he's outside and I'm frustrated. She tells me he was ACTUALLY saying he "wants to SEE", i.e. the butterfly, and now it's gone and he's more upset because I wouldn't let him see. When asked, he cried and said he WAS saying he wanted to see. But I KNOW he was saying leave at first, and tbh Mom was kind of asking him leading questions when asking if he was saying wants to see about the butterfly, so I tried to explain that he was at least not saying see at first.

She keeps pushing it though until I'm done and I say "Whatever, are you going to leave or not?", because at this point there's only 20 minutes left to get there. I genuinely didn't think this was a huge conflict at this point? Like yeah we were arguing but I didn't think we were being personal, idk. It was pretty dumb and we were both stressed. I thought it was gonna be one of those things where we're both friends again by the time she gets back and we've cooled down.

But then she told me to go fuck myself. And that was too much for me, because I feel like cursing at someone is just really disrespectful, and something I try not to do at all in arguments, especially with people I love. I'm not against cursing during arguments, but cursing at me like that felt really mean.

I was properly angry at that point and told her to just go so I could babysit. She told me to get a job(???? she's refused to get me a workers permit for years now), and I finally snapped and said she should just take D with her, then shut the door.

I did NOT lock the door. I didn't even fully close the door. I just left the kitchen and sat on the couch instead, staying downstairs in case she came back in and told me again to babysit(which I still would have, for J's sake). For context, D WAS allowed to go to the open house with mom and J, she just didn't want to have to take him too.

My mom is now giving me the silent treatment. They apparently weren't even able to go to the open house because mom's car wouldn't start, and now J is very sad and anxious about the first day of school. Mom's also been snipping about how if I hadn't refused to babysit and wasted so much time arguing with her, she might have been able to get a different ride.

Idk. I know he argument was dumb, but I feel like she crossed a line with cursing at me like that. But I could also see how me refusing to babysit from then might have been too far. AITA?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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ladykailitha · 1 year

Text

Little Runaway Part 7

Oh my god you guys, seriously you all are amazing. I am really loving the reactions to this story. There is just one more part to go and it’s a sweet little epilogue. This is the showdown. The moment you’ve all been waiting for.

Also if you asked to be tagged after the limit of twenty, I’m sorry. I have the limit for a reason. I’m not doing it because I’m being elitist or whatever, my poor little ADHD brain starts getting frustrated and wanting to cry just doing the 20 I’ve got, but I do it because it makes me happy people want to be informed the next time a part goes up. I don’t know how people with dozens do it.

Plus tagging adds more time putting up the parts. Something that would take five minutes on AO3 (because they keep track of all the chapters for you) could take anywhere from 10 minutes to an hour depending on how many parts there are, and how many have been put up (I go and crosslink on EVERY part to make sure if a part in the middle gets found in the wild all by its lonesome the person can read the previous and subsequent parts). Add tagging to that and you can see the time starts to really add up.

Again thank you for all the love and support this little story has gotten. The last part will be up tonight after I eat dinner and then (cold permitting) I’ll put up the first part of Ser Stephan of Harring’s Town before I go to bed.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

Eddie walked into the police station and right up to Hopper’s desk. He leaned on it with both hands and stared directly into Hopper’s eyes.

“I need you to arrest me,” he bit out. “Now.”

“What the hell?” Hopper asked, leaning back in his chair.

“Mr Harrington knows I know where Steve is,” he breathed. “I can’t let him get to me to get to Steve. If you need a reason, I have two baggies of weed in my jacket pocket. Please. I don’t want to see him get hurt.”

Hopper gulped. “Well there is a rumor you kidnapped him, so...”

Eddie nodded and held out his hands together at the wrist. “Save him, please.”

Steve was sitting on the sofa reading when Wayne came home from work.

“Where’s Eddie?” he asked on his way to the fridge.

Steve shrugged. “He just said he had errands to run.”

Wayne came back with two beers and handed one to Steve. Steve swung his feet off the sofa to let Wayne sit down. Steve set the book down and popped the lid off his bottle and then did the same for Wayne’s when the older man raised an eyebrow.

“Neat trick,” Wayne said, taking a swig.

Steve shrugged. “Turns out years of baseball, basketball, and swimming make you a strong person. I don’t do those things anymore, but I keep working out to keep that strength up.”

“That how you were able to break Clint’s nose?” Wayne asked.

“Yeah,” Steve murmured. “I didn’t mean to, I don’t know how much to hold back when punching, because when I hit most of the time there is no holding back.”

“What have you got to be hitting that needs to be hit that hard, boy?” he asked.

Steve’s shoulders slumped. “I can’t tell you. I can get into a lot of trouble if I tell people. The only ones that know are the ones that have seen it for themselves. But I have seen things that have made grown men shit their pants. I have been hunted by things that would haunt the nightmares of the hardest of souls. I have been actually tortured and drugged. And yet face to face with my own father and I chickened out like a bitch.”

Wayne stared at the boy that should have had the dream life. Rich parents, everything he could have asked for. But instead nothing but heartache and loss for this kid. Because despite Steve almost being twenty, he was still a kid.

He put his hand on Steve’s shoulder and was about to say something when the phone rang. He frowned and got up to answer it.

As he said hello, a curly haired teenager in a trucker hat came barreling through his front door.

“Steve!” Dustin yelled. “Someone at Hellfire snitched and your dad is on his way here.”

Steve worked to calm Dustin while Wayne listened to the other person on the other end of the line, making the appropriate noises. Then he hung up.

“You must be Dustin,” Wayne said coming back over to the sofa.

Dustin looked over at Wayne as if he was seeing him for the first time. “Oh. Yeah. Um...sorry. For barging in like that, but I really needed to see Steve.”

Wayne chuckled. “Don’t worry, your friend here is going to be just fine.” He cocked his head to the side. “How did you get here so fast? I just barely got the call myself what was going down.”

“My mom drove me,” Dustin said, staring at the floor.

“Claudia is here?” Wayne asked. Dustin nodded. “Good. The more the merrier.” He turned to Steve. “Under the sink, behind the Draino is your bag. It’ll be up to you to decide what you want to do with it.”

Steve nodded.

Wayne walked outside.

There standing in a semi-circle was Claudia Henderson, Joyce Byers, and Sheriff Jim Hopper. Standing off to the side, was Eddie who was hugging his ribs. Wayne joined the semi-circle just as Clint Harrington pulled up to the trailer park and got out of his car.

“Sheriff!” Clint yelled. “I want that man arrested for kidnapping my son!” He pointed angrily at Eddie, who looked down.

“I don’t know about that,” Wayne said. “Hey, Steve! You being held against your will?”

Dustin and Steve came out of the trailer slowly, the backpack slung over one shoulder.

“No, sir,” Steve said, looking his father in the eye. “I am not.”

“Liar!” Clint bellowed. “Don’t you be believing a word out of his mouth. He’s been brainwashed.”

“No I haven’t,” Steve said, feeling a little bit more bold knowing he had people who would protect him.

“You leave that boy alone,” Joyce said. “He’s gone through enough.”

Claudia crossed her arms. “Agreed.”

“You better get out of my way,” Clint growled.

Hopped pulled out a piece of paper and held it up. “This here is a warrant for your arrest for the assault of Steven Harrington.”

Clint laughed. “You can’t prove a god damn thing.”

“Actually we can,” Hopper continued. “Steve was smart enough to take pictures after your little tussle and the bruises will match up with your ring.”

Clint went to work it off his finger, but Wayne stepped up to stop him. “I think I’ll be taking that for the Sheriff if you don’t mind.”

Clint growled, but handed it over. He walked back over to Hopper who was holding a baggy for Wayne to drop it into. Hopper sealed the bag and stuck it in his pocket.

“What do you say, Steve?” Hopper called over his shoulder. “Should we lock up this bastard and throw away the key?”

Steve held out his hand to Eddie. Eddie looked at it, unsure and then came over to take it. Steve pressed his forehead to Eddie’s. “What do you think I should do?”

Eddie cupped Steve’s face with his free hand. “You know what to do. You’re a good person, Steve. Do what feels right.”

“You fag, get away from my son!” Clint shouted. He tried to push past the four adults, but they closed ranks and wouldn’t let him through.

Steve breathed in.

“You’ve got this, baby,” Eddie assured him.

Steve nodded. He stepped away from Eddie and tossed the backpack at his dad. “Everything you want is in there. Just take it and leave. Know this. If I or any of my friends see you in Hawkins ever again, the Sheriff will arrest you.”

Hopper grinned. “I like that plan.”

“I’ll cut you off!” Clint snarled. “You’ll be penniless and homeless without me, you ingrate!”

Steve laughed. “I could stay at any number of these fine people’s houses and be welcome for as long as I needed. And as for penniless? I’ve already got a job lined up that I think will make me very happy. And maybe if I’m lucky, a boy who loves me.” He turned to Eddie, who was blushing deep.

Wayne chuckled. “You heard the man, Clint. Get the hell out of Dodge and stay the fuck away from my boys.”

Clint growled and stalked off to his car, the tires peeling out on the gravel as he tore out of the trailer pack as if the hounds of hell were on his tail.

Steve shook his head. “Doesn’t he know that’s bad for his tires?”

Everyone turned to look at Steve in shock and amazement before bursting into laughter.

Claudia took Dustin home and Hopper took Joyce, leaving Steve with the Munsons.

“Is it over?” Eddie asked.

“I’d give Clint a couple days to clear out,” Wayne said. “But yeah. I think it’s over.”

“Does this mean I can stay?” Steve asked, looking up through his lashes.

Wayne rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “I was thinking of upgrading to a double wide with two bedrooms. I think we could just about afford it if you help pay rent.”

Steve lit up and turned to Eddie. “You hear that? You’re stuck with me now.”

Eddie smiled and leaned in. “I think it’s the other way round. You’re stuck here with me.”

Steve smiled softly. “And I couldn’t be happier.”

Epilogue

Tag List: @tauntedperfume @marivictal @eddiemunsonswife @namelessssho @dbquills @goodolefashionedloverboi @steve-the-hairrington @sadcanadianwinter @yearningagain @books-are-my-life-since-1996 @swimmingbirdrunningrock @homohomohoe @knightofthieves @flusteredcas @moonage-daydreaming @goblin-eddie @marvelousforlife @silversnaffles @satan-is-obsessed @yikes-a-bee

#My writing #stranger things #steddie #gay steve harrington #abuse tw #ladykailtiha writes

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greenbergwrites · 5 months

Note

Green. I’m a starved man. I’ve been rereading your post about Steve and Etienne being feral and Bucky trying to take care of them. If you have anything in your beautiful brain about that to continue off of. I think I’d cry. Love and appreciate you for everything you do and have done <3

Real talk, the original story I’ve been trying to write all year has been a feral!Omega plot inspired by that very post. [I even kept the name Etienne for one of the minor characters 😂]

Feral!Omega is apparently my new fixation and I regret nothing.

So yes, I will happily continue that story for you.

Original post here for anyone who needs a reminder.

–

The feral Omega can walk out of his cage under his own steam. His companion, still as quiet as ever, cannot. Along with whatever injury has him bleeding, there appears to be something wrong with his foot.

Bucky kneels beside the boy, permitted reluctantly by his protector, pursing his lips as he looks it over. The feral Omega hovers just over his shoulder, that warning little grumble-hiss still in every breath he takes. Should Bucky do or say the wrong thing, he has no doubt the Omega will attack.

He tries to keep himself and his scent as calming as possible, but it’s not easy. The boy’s foot is bent at an unnatural angle and seeing such an injury on an Omega makes him want to rage. His anger would accomplish nothing but agitating the feral Omega and potentially scaring the silent one, so he tamps it down as best he can.

The Omega is too dirty for him to figure out of it’s an old injury that’s healed wrong or a newer one that can be more easily fixed. Either possibility is unacceptable–angled like it is, it has to be causing the Omega pain.

“We’ll get this fixed up in no time,” he murmurs to the boy, keeping his voice soft and soothing. “For now, will you permit me to carry you?”

The Omega blinks up at him with those big, blue eyes. There is an air of vulnerability to most Omegas, but it’s more intense with this one. His gaze is so open, so sad. Bucky wants to find everyone who’s responsible for that expression and hurt them slowly.

The Omega nods silently.

Carefully, Bucky scoops him up. The boy is so light, it’s almost sickening. He pauses, giving himself a moment to rest his cheek on the boy’s hair.

No one else will hurt you, he vows silently.

He promised it aloud already, and he’s sure that neither of them believed him. He won’t fail them, though. He will make sure they’re safe.

The feral Omega vibrates with tension, as if wants to snatch his companion from Bucky’s arms and carry the boy himself. As small as the other Omega is, Bucky isn’t sure he’d succeed, though. Perhaps that’s what stops him.

“Follow me,” Bucky tells the feral one, his voice still soft.

It doesn’t soothe this one quite like it soothes the Omega in his arms, but it doesn’t seem to hurt, either.

Outside, the rain hasn’t slowed. Most of the vehicles are gone now, as are most of the humans. Two black trucks and a single ambulance remain, all three parked near what appears to be a triage tent near the entrance to the warehouse. The Enforcer that guided Bucky inside is standing near it, holding open the flap to allow them inside.

The feral Omega darts forward, putting himself between the Enforcer and Bucky, snarling loud enough to be heard over the storm. It doesn’t seem to register to him that he’s being drowned by the rain.

Bucky sighs softly, shifting the Omega in his arms as he approaches their little bodyguard. He lets his fingers brush over the feral one’s damp arm.

“Enough,” he chides. “Get in the tent so we can all get out of the rain.”

The Omega glares at him, but after a glance to his companion, he reluctantly obeys.

Inside, the tent is set up with a gurney, two chairs, and a rudimentary set of medical supplies. It’s also empty.

The Enforcer comes in behind them, letting the flap shut behind him.

“You said they don’t like humans,” he said, “but all the medical personnel on site are human. I have some training, but unless they’ll allow the others in, it’s all we have.”

Bucky nodded. “I think we can make do with the two of us.”

It takes quite a bit of coaxing, and more promises of safety from Bucky, but the feral Omega allows the Enforcer to help his companion. Bucky can take care of their superficial wounds, but the foot requires more training than he has.

By the time Bucky’s found cleaned and bandaged their cuts, the Enforcer has cleaned the silent Omega’s foot and examined it. Now that the dirt is gone, Bucky can see that his foot is swollen and red, making the injury new.

He hates how relieved he is about it. The idea of an Omega being hurt at all is unthinkable, but at least they won’t have to re-break the bone to set it correctly. He isn’t sure the feral Omega would be able to stand that.

“I’m going to have to set it,” the Enforcer says apologetically, looking to the blue-eyed Omega. “It’s going to hurt, but only for a second.”

The Omega looks to Bucky, and Bucky can almost hear what he’s thinking.

You said I wouldn’t hurt anymore.

Or maybe that’s just his guilty conscience, promising something before he knew all the facts.

Bucky touches the boy’s hair.

“If there were any other way,” he said, “we’d do that instead. But if we leave it, it’ll heal wrong and we’ll have to re-break it if you want to walk again. It’s up to you, but setting it now is better.”

Frankly, Bucky is surprised it hasn’t healed itself already. The fact that it’s still swollen and fresh is worrisome. Their kind don’t heal quite as quickly as the movies portray, but they do heal fast. It should be at least halfway there already.

The Omega looks back at the Enforcer and nods solemnly. His feral companion, though, snarls before the Enforcer can even touch him.

Bucky takes him by the arm, pulling him closer. The fact that the Omega lets him is a good sign, considering how hostile he is. He takes the feral Omega’s face in his hands, making sure the boy is looking at him.

“We have to do this,” he says firmly. “It’s what’s best for him. Hold on to me if you have to. Don’t look. Whatever it is you need, but you have to let this happen. Do you understand?”

For several long seconds, the Omega just stares at him, and Bucky worries that he doesn’t. That he’s too far gone to truly grasp what’s happening.

Then, thankfully, he nods. It’s small, and the boy’s breath is shaky, his gaze displaying fear for the first time. But still, he nods, and Bucky knows he isn’t so far gone.

“C’mere,” he says, gathering the feral Omega to him, and the boy buries his face in Bucky’s chest, his fingers gripping Bucky’s shirt tightly.

Bucky shuffles them closer to the gurney, because he can’t allow one Omega to be comforted and leave the other bereft. He keeps one arm tightly around the feral Omega’s back and lays his other hand on the back of the silent Omega’s neck, squeezing lightly.

The silent Omega reaches up, grasping his wrist.

“Eyes on me,” Bucky orders him. When the Omega obeys, staring up at him, he tells the Enforcer, “Go on.”

It’s quick. A little jerk of the Enforcer’s hands, the snap of bone going back into place. The feral Omega jolts in his arms, trembling, and the blue-eyed Omega closes his eyes, his breath hitching almost imperceptibly.

When it’s over, Bucky relaxes his hold on both Omegas. He sighs in relief, nuzzling first the feral Omega in his arms and then leaning down to do the same to his companion.

“Good,” he murmurs to them both. “You were both so good. I’m so proud of you.”

The blue-eyed Omega gazes up at him in wonder. He leans back until he’s resting against Bucky’s hip, pulling Bucky’s hand down to rest on his chest. He keeps holding onto it, clinging to Bucky as fiercely as his companion does.

The Enforcer reaches for something to bandage the ankle with. By the time it’s wrapped, both Omegas have calmed considerably, though neither of them have let go of Bucky yet. He doesn’t make them, either. They’ve been through hell, and whatever comfort they want, they deserve.

The Enforcer clears his throat awkwardly.

“Neither of them have a pack scent,” he says to Bucky. “Until they can tell us where they belong, the next step is to have a local pack foster them. We’ve already contacted the closest ones, their Alphas should be here soon.”

Bucky’s instinctive reaction is to protest. These Omegas are no one to him, not in any sort of way, even though it feels like the opposite.

They trusted him enough to let him get them out. They trusted him enough to allow the Enforcer into their space. They trusted him enough to allow pain, no matter how briefly, and to let him comfort them through it.

He swallows down that instinct, though, knowing that he has no right.

Reluctantly, he nods and tries not to tighten his old on the Omegas.

“Okay,” he says, and the word tastes like ash on his tongue.

#nani asks #greenberg replies #a/b/o dynamics #feral omega #etienne and steve

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seth-shitposts · 4 months

Text

Working on trying to throw SOMETHING over on ao3 (it will either be the next concept dump for defectors, the first concept dump for SoFS&V, OR a once shot wip that's sitting in our docs-)

But for now we're dumping stuff we wrote for a friend about defectors au >:]

Enjoy Ezra & Kallus-

---

The first 6-8 months Ezra, while seeing and acknowledging that he has some definite safety and security around Kallus, doesn't take to him right away. The first month or so, his anger is not quiet at all. Kallus is careful to keep his patience in check, and doesn't hold anything over Ezra because he's very aware of how hard everything is on Ezra. Him reacting with anger in return will only serve to ensure Ezra never trusts him. Kallus is acutely aware that if he wants Ezra to trust him and feel safe around him, he has to feel safe enough to express the intense emotions and distress he's experiencing in the only ways he knows how.

Kallus had prepared himself for it to take much longer, but when Ezra started calming down and being more at ease around Kallus, he figured that how he chose to handle the situation worked.

After working the situation out with Mira & Ephraim, Kallus took the time to explain it to Ezra and did so as often as Ezra asked. And that seemed to help in putting Ezra at ease. Whatever amount of dislike Ezra had died slowly over the course of the first 8 months.

The first time Kallus comforted Ezra from a nightmare, it had been a few months into the first year. Kallus was up working late and his attention was immediately grabbed from the sound of muffled crying from the next room. Could he have ignored it? Returned to his work? it would have been possible, but he didn't allow it. Not with how this still new sensation of his chest breaking in two demanding his focus. It felt wrong not to comfort the child that is just starting to bring himself to not glare at him.

Kallus quickly heated a blanket for Ezra as he gathered a few other things for him. Water (both drinking and in a warm bowl with a soft rag), one of the fruits he knows the kid likes, and a gentle powerlight. By the time Kallus is finished gathering the few items, the blanket has been warmed.

He gently knocks on Ezra’s door and asks if he's permitted to enter. He's taken small efforts to let Ezra know that anything is allowed to happen at his pace. Boundaries are where he wants to have them. Nothing is demanded of him.

The other side quiets for a moment. Just as Kallus thinks that Ezra is pretending to be asleep for him to leave, he hears a quiet yes.

Kallus balances everything carefully as he slips in through the door and has it slide shut behind him.

“I know none of this will fix the cause of your distress, but it will help in it not be as intense.” Kallus sets things down on the night stand and let's Ezra feel the blanket before asking permission to help wrap it around him. Kallus has seen tears of anger and frustration on the kid's face, but tears of sadness have been kept hidden from him. This is the first time Kallus has been allowed by Ezra to offer comfort. And he honestly isn't entirely sure what to do.

He's taken advice from local caregivers and has been relying heavily on it. There was one time he asked a fellow officer for advice and what he was given left a sour taste in his mouth. Tseebo and the Bridger Parents have been where he's asked most questions.

Kallus is barely even on the edge of the mattress, more so just resting his hip against it as he gently speaks, offering the bottle of water and explaining that it will help ease the aches on his head, asking if Ezra would like to try and eat, being declined, asking if Ezra would like him to soothe his irritate skin with the warm rag, receiving a wordless nod and reaching for the rag.

As Kallus is wringing out the rag, Ezra scoots over and shifts his gaze from Kallus to the now open space. Kallus hesitantly moves farther onto the bed, allowing himself to be more comfortable as he eases away the ache and distress from Ezra. It doesn't take long before Ezra begins to duck his head, eyelids growing heavy.

Taking a reluctantly breath, Kallus helps Ezra lay back and get comfortable as he begins to sing the lullaby the Bridgers taught him, one that Tseebo explained to him is a lothal tradition and folklore and its history and significance.

Something about Kallus singing the song to Ezra erases a tension that Kallus hadn't realized the kid had been holding onto the entire time. It takes only a few moments for Ezra to be eased into a gentle sleep. Seeing the kid so tired, recovering from whatever had woken him up, and so vulnerable brings a heat and rush of tears to Kallus’s own face. He swallows before blinking the feeling away as he tucks Ezra in, swaddling the still toasty blanket around him and brushing a few stray locks out of his face.

Kallus leaves the gentle glow of the light cell on and next to the half empty bottle of water. He waits a few moments at the door before letting himself slip out quietly, wanting to make sure the kid was lulled to a deeper sleep and won't wake up again.

This pattern repeats several times within the first 8 months. The first night Ezra seeks Kallus out is after Kallus had stopped an officer from reprimanded Ezra wrongfully. No harm fell to him, but Ezra was still shaken over it. And Kallus still torn between wanting to rip into the officer himself and feeling as though he shouldn't have turned his back for two minutes.

Kallus was up late again, working on more of the Bridger suggested cases when he heard a knock at his door, accompanied by a request from Ezra to see him. Kallus immediately shuts the datapad off and puts it away as he grants Ezra permission. The door slides open to reveal Ezra, who still clutches onto that lothwolf plush and tries to hide his misty eyes with it while simultaneously searching for Kallus.

“I couldn't sleep, can I lay down with you?”

Kallus nods, barely able to trust his own voice before learning his throat. “of course, Ezra.”

Ezra doesn't waste a second crossing the room, as if Kallus would change his mind if he took too long. As Kallus moves over to make sure Ezra has plenty of room, Ezra chooses to latch onto Kallus rather than take the space made for him. Making himself situated, Kallus dims the light as Ezra buries his face against Kallus’s throat. And Kallus can feel as the tears finally slip from him. Holding Ezra reassuringly tight in his arms, Kallus promises that he won't ever let anyone hurt Ezra. That he's right here for him. Kallus doesn't let himself slip away into sleep until he's certain Ezra has first. It's much harder for him to fight the urge to sleep than it usually is, but the gentle snoring from Ezra finally pushes him over the edge of unconsciousness.

—

As time goes on, it's much more frequent for Ezra to ask Kallus to help him fall asleep. To hold him or comfort him from bad dreams. Ezra gets the best sleep he's had since before the raid, Kallus makes him feel safe and he doesn't have any nightmares when he's near Kallus. And Kallus never turns him away. It just becomes their routine. As Ezra gets older, he doesn't ask as frequently, but still on occasion.

At one point, when Ezra is around 10 or 11, he wakes up and focuses on Kallus, making sure that his caregiver is undoubtedly asleep.

After being certain, Ezra whispers, “I know that you have a secret. You don't want to tell me or my parents because you don't want us to be too excited. But I know you're fighting for their early release. I hope when you win, that you'll leave the Empire and stay with us. I understand now that you think the empire wants what's best, but I want you to understand that it isn't. That there's better. Please, Ally.”

—

In his free time, Kallus likes to make repairs and do basic maintenance to droids. When Kallus brings home one of the MSE droids, Ezra asks him questions about Everything and Kallus gives every question a full response as he updates the damaged droid.

Ezra asks a lot of questions in general. Sometimes catches Kallus off guard.

—

There was one point early on when Ezra was mad at everything and angry over everything. So much so that he really tried pushing Kallus’s buttons. Wanted him to react. And just as Ezra thought he was about to, Kallus took a deep, calming breath and asked Ezra to help him cook.

It was random and out of no where. Ezra thought it might be a trap of some sort because of just how terrible some of the things he said to Kallus were.

But the entire time, Kallus simply taught him a couple recipes from scratch, guiding Ezra gently on the process. And as they cooked, Ezra felt his frustration and rage slowly leave his body. He felt much better, but also a bit guilty over lashing out on Kallus.

“I'm sorry for saying all those mean things to you.”

“They did hurt. But I know you're also hurting right now and you're mad at the world and I'm not going to say that you aren't allowed to be.”

“Why did we start cooking?”

“When I was around your age, I also used to lash out. I lashed out a lot at my own caregiver. But they never lashed back or sent me away from them. They would simply say that it's time to cook and we would make something together. It never fixed my problems, but something about it made me feel better.”

—

Kallus has one of the strongest immune systems. Surprising with how poorly he takes care of himself. Morad has lectured him time and time again about taking better care of himself or that he has too much work on his plate or that there's any number of things that he isn't being careful about. Kallus was a sick child but his immune system turned around as he grew into his teen years and joined the academy.

On paper, Kallus is 32. On paper, Kallus hasn't had so much as a cold in his time under the empire. Both are untrue, to some degree. Kallus is around 28 and he's had small fits of illness that he always concealed and powered through to work. But they were always manageable. Kallus hasn't been severely sick in over 14 years.

Until today. Kallus tried working through it, concealing it. Ezra didn't know how to act. He tried saying that Kallus should rest. Kallus simply gave a weak smile to the 12 year old and told him that he'll be fine by lunch. Tseebo cringed away from him for the first time in years before rushing to stop Kallus from tripping. Before Tseebo could suggest that Kallus stay home, Kallus explained that there's an important meeting he needs to be a part of concerning the mistreatment of Lothalite citizens.

Kallus successfully does his part for the meeting, but puts in a request for a break afterwards. Minister Tua stumbles across him and overrides it from a request for a short break to a “leaving and going home”. By the time she found him, he was violently ill and she demanded to know from the fellow officers who let Kallus remain present until he got this bad. That someone should have sent this poor man home hours ago. Kallus can't even muster the will or ability to argue.

Kallus was certain that the contact he had on file had been the Sumars, but when Ezra arrives, by himself, Kallus isn't even able to bring himself to question or worry. Everything spins and blurs too much for him to focus on anything.

Ezra takes care of Kallus just as Kallus had taken care of him when he had been equally as sick.

-----------

That's mostly all for now.

Mmm notes:

Kallus lied about his age to get into the academy. He was 14 when he enlisted, around 18 when he graduated, and around 19 when Onderon happened. And he was 23 on the night of the bridger raid with Ezra having been 7.

I'm looking forward to writing out how Kallus realizes just how young he was when he enlisted when he sees Ezra being taken care of and protected by the ghost crew. Like he knew on some level and realized that earlier on as he was raising Ezra, but it hits him like a freight train that he was Ezra’s age when he lied to get into the academy and Ezra is still just so young.

It had always been one of the main reasons why Kallus fought so hard for Ezra to not be enlisted as a child when the empire tried to mandate it.

--idea of kallus lying about his age was inspired by something @heart-of-a-rebel16 spoke about :]

#star wars rebels #swr #alexsandr kallus #ezra bridger #defectors au

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cleewii · 1 year

Text

THIS IS LOVE

pairing: denji x gn!reader

rating: 16+

warning(s): violence, gore, loss and grief, reader is a morally questionable, pre-established relationship

word count: 1.4K

note: i wouldn’t consider this a completed work considering i just took a draft i had and polished it enough to be cohesive. it still needs some more work (an actual plot cough cough) but whatever. if enough people dig it i might expand on it more. i’ve just got this feeling that denji is rlly weird about crying and that’s where this came from.

I do not permit the reposting/reuploading of my work on any platform. i do not allow the use of my work for other forms of entertainment. not even with credit

if he could hold you to his heart, you’d hear the steady rhythm of life beating from within. two souls bound together in the form of this raggedy, beaten down, dirty mess of a man, covered in layers of dust, and grime, and blood. Yet, when your eyes fall upon him even if he stands a tattered wreck, all he’d see is adoration—a soft and sweet glimmer of something he’ll protect until his last dying breath.

he feels that love you have for him, with its honey golden glow, effervescent as it lays upon his skin in the form of chast kisses and a warm embrace, and he feels like he could die the happiest man in the world. so long as you’ll be there to smile so sweetly. just for him, only for him.

he’d rip apart the world in return, bury his hands deep within the sodden carcasses he’d lay at his own feet to grip at something feral and beating, just for you. all for you. always for you.

because you make him feel like he’s living, like you want him for more then what lives behind his rib cage, tasting his dreams and letting the sweetness of it all fill it until it was satisfied.

“pochita,” he’d told you, “his name s’pochita”

“yeah? how’d you meet him?”

he’d recounted everything he could remember to you that night. that sickly feeling of starvation, the dull throbbing of his head. stories followed by tragedies, even when you felt like you could cry, you let him finish. you listened.

“she killed ‘em. all’ve ‘em…i couldnt….i didnt save ‘em,” his chin falls utop his knees, arms hugging his legs to his body as he stares at the ground solemnly. the glimmer of an anguished nostalgia simmering in his eyes; he seems transfixed on burning his pain into the couch cushion underneath him. from the way he spoke about them, his family, you knew they’d meant the world to him. Maybe even more than that.

you say nothing about the tears that slip down his cheeks. nor the way his nose goes red, and his cheeks blot with watercolor grief.

you only pull him closer, letting him lean against you as he soaks your shirt in muffled sobs.

he falls asleep like that, and you follow soon after. His skin sticky with dried tears, nose and eyes rubbed raw.

he’s snoring before he can process whatever childish embarrassment he might feel about having been so vulnerable. he swallows down the weakness before giving himself the chance to chew on it. there was a realization that had replaced it—in fact—before his eye lids grew so heavy that he had to give into his body’s yearning for sleep.

He wondered, something he rarely allows himself to do, that maybe you matter to him as much as they did. it’s a thought that stays in the back of his mind throughout the rest of the night, in his dreams where the smell of you wandered like a ghost, his body curled up, pressed right against yours.

he would cry for you.

he’d known that since the first time he’d seen you covered in bruises and looking worse for wear.

you were alive, and he still cried.

it had shaken him to his core.

he didn’t notice until you pointed it out, the fat tears that trailed down his cheeks at the sight of you.

he didn’t know why, he’d felt so stupid after the fact, but that didn’t change the way he practically bawled like a baby when you’d returned home late that night, blood seeping into your shirt from the cuts that littered your skin.

you’d been attacked by a devil, you explained, and later that night, when you were safe in bed and sleeping soundly under the covers, he’d gone searching for the thing that’d hurt you.

he didn’t come back until he found it, and left it a writhing pile of stinking flesh.

you didn’t question why he came back to you bloody, or ask about the self satisfied grin he’d presented to you after the fact. you just smiled, so sweet and soft, and kissed the corner of his lips like it was the normal thing to do.

you supposed it was.

every since you’d met him, the line between moral and immoral had faded. what once made your skin crawl and stomach ache, felt like simple showers of rain during a sunny day. never completely normal—always a little too intense to handle—and not always completely welcomed, but a type of irregularity that you wouldn’t lose any sleep over.

that’s why you didn’t think too much about the metallic taste in your mouth afterwards.

that dopey smile on his face was enough for you, especially when he realized you hadn’t changed the bandaids he’d littered over your skin. mismatched, placed everywhere, some folded over themselves in his struggle to remove them from the packaging, and others overlapping each other in his haste to to dress the cuts that marred your skin.

his hands had shaken horribly, eyes red and puffy from crying, finally calming down once he’d bandaged every wound.

it should have scared him, the way he’s broken down so easily because of you. it should have swallowed him whole, filled his lungs with a smokey kind of fear that he’d suffocate in.

if death wasn’t an option, then surely that was the next best thing.

having to watch everyone else die before him.

having to watch you die.

the thought was enough to make him gag, it’s inevitability clung to his throat like a disease.

he’d held you tight, and kissed every inch of skin you’d allowed him to access that night, suddenly strengthened in the resolve he’d created moments before.

“ill protect you. won’t let anythin’ hurt you again. not ever.”

“yeah?” you giggled. maybe you shouldn’t have. there was nothing lighthearted about his declaration. it was solid, unwavering, etched into his entire being and nothing would change it.

“yeah.” he looks down, a determined furrow in his brow, “i promise.”

you stared at him, for a moment, mulling over his words, tasting them on your tounge.

then, your face had melted into a smile, and you kissed him right on the lips.

he couldn’t stop smiling for the rest of the night.

“i love you, denji…” you murmured into his hair, soft blond strands tickling your cheek as you slowly drifted, your exhaustion finally catching up to you.

he had only been dozing off, fading in and out of sleep, but the moment those words left for mouth he could feel his body tremble.

you loved him.

he hoped, a selfish kind of hope, that you loved him as much as he did you.

it played in his head, like a broken record. repeating itself, over and over again, until he too faded into sleep.

do you love me like i love you…?

do you need me like i need you….

“ur a dream, ya know that?” he says to you one day, head lying comfortable in your lap as the two of you lounge about a chilly winter day. this was months later, summer having faded as sleet and snow covered the once lively earth.

“half the time i cant believe ur real…” he mumbles that last part, looking away from your serene gaze as if he’d melt at the sight of your eyes, eyes that were always so warm and golden.

red dusts the tips of his ears, painting over the skin of his shoulders and cheeks, you can’t help the giggle that leaves you at the sight of him all flustered and quiet.

“well m’right here aren’t i?” you smile. your fingertips brush over the ends of his blond hair.

“yeah.”

he feels warm at the thought.

still here.

he doesn’t regret crying for you.

no, in fact, he thinks if he could he’d cry every day for you. happy tears, sad tears, so long as you could hold him close and tell him it was alright. that you’d never leave him the way they did, that you’d be okay.

he doesn’t regret crying for you, because although it seemed like whenever he cried it was because he’d lost something, something precious that meant more to him then he’d care to admit, you’d managed to prove him wrong.

for once, his tears didn’t mark the end of something—of someone.

for once, he cried, and you were still here

#denji x reader #csm denji #denji fluff #chainsaw man #clee’s.writing

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