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enneamage · 2 years

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could you do an enneagram about nikibur? 🙏 I know this relationship was bad and I'm glad Niki is better now, but I'd like to know about them, their problems.

I can give my Spicy Opinion based on what I’ve deliberated about their personalities, but truth be told the two of them are further from their textbook descriptions. Wilbur is less reliable than a healthy three, and Niki has a difficult history that gives her certain reflexes on top of her predisposition. There’s also things that will probably be too specific to guess that happened behind the scenes, but I’m willing to bet that Wilbur’s push-and-pull problems became a big issue between them.

(I will do a writeup in an ask later about how Wilbur collects Nines like stickers, but that’s slightly less relevant here because of the way they met.)

I think they fucked up, together.

The blame shifts to Wilbur as time goes on, but through naivety and badly calibrated strategic thinking, they introduced the stressor of being a public couple who made their content about being a public couple. They knew what their gimmick was, and they both invoked it from the get-go—they would flirt on stream, farm awws, and then play coy when people asked about the obvious. They wanted to do the will-they-won’t-they bit and were in open competition with Carson & Kate. I think people feel morally obligated to forget how blatant they were, but they were incredibly in-your-face, and they mostly did it on purpose. They were more than just a public couple: they were straight-baiting, and they held onto it for a while because it gave them content.

And then the cons outweighed the pros. People started buying exactly what they were selling, finding them cute and investing in their personal lives. The thing is, they weren’t actually prepared to be any more demonstrative than they already were, and they both have a private streak that they wanted to hide each other behind. In a way it was an innocent failure to understand what crowds are really like, and what happens when you give a mouse a cookie. They found that they couldn’t put the toothpaste back in the tube, and at that point it was too late.

As an aside, women are competitive. They’re actually as competitive as men, but we treat the spite they treat other women with as anomalous because we think they’re supposed to be collectivistic or something. (People not noticing the double standard here is something that bothers me :P.) Needless to say, we usually don’t expect a female streamer to roll up and flirt with her Chad boyfriend without chat going nuts, because we know that people can be petty and jealous with the object of their affection. The same logic applies the other way around, but people tend to expect it less because women are meant to be more civilised or something. In the end we’re more equal than we know :P.

Niki doesn’t deserve the hate she got by any stretch of the imagination, but she got it all the same. She was heavily associated with Wilbur and had a personality people offhandedly summed up as ‘wholesome’ and ‘bland.’ She was endearing to some people, projected onto by others, and the object of vicious jealousy to (what I hope was?) a vocal minority. Not much active effort was put into seeing and understanding her as an individual, which has gotta be a mindfuck to go through, especially If you’re going through it virtually alone.

The on-paper ‘healthy’ love story between Threes and Nines is that Nines give Threes a space of unconditional and unjudgmental love. In return, Threes encourage Nines to develop themselves and shine on their own. The ideal is a feedback loop of mutual safety and encouragement, a very comfy duo. I won’t lie, I’ve seen this combination in the wild, they seem to happen more frequently than some other pairings and I can see why. This is also why I can only use the enneagram roadmap for them so much, because these two (or at least Wilbur) went off the rails.

Judging from what we’ve established about Wilbur so far, he’s good at making himself seem reliable, and then the payoff is so-so. To avoid being overly cruel I will say that Wilbur’s mental health was outstandingly bad at certain points in their timeline, so the situation has layers, but it probably activated some of his worst habits and Niki seems to have gotten the brunt of it. He liked being loved by her, and probably loving her back, but he didn’t have the mind to be her safe space consistently, which is a big part of what she needs out of a relationship.

Wilbur’s love interest persona is so distinct from the rest of him that it comes into question how real it is, and what the hell that even implies. The answers can range from ‘maybe he just gets inspired by the people he loves to behave differently’ to ‘American Psycho acting ass motherfucker.’ Threes can be a type that does romance, performs charm and builds fantasies about perfect love for them and their partner to live in. I think he pulled back when he was at his worst, maybe self-consciously hiding himself because he knew he wasn’t living up to his hype, maybe abandoning her when he wasn’t capable of meeting her needs. I don’t think he was entirely synthetic with her, because truth be told he’s not that good at lying for very long, but he did seem to make explicit and implicit promises that he went on to not keep. I remember the ”men are disappointing, actually” Niki clips, and I can tell who they’re about.

Some of the on-screen magnetism between Niki and Wilbur came from her being a cheerleader when he was feeling down. This is something that she elaborates on indirectly in her Dr. K video, she likes finding the places that she can slot into other people’s lives. Tragically for her, this is implicitly tied to the hope that they won’t leave her, which ended badly this time around. Wilbur was simple, in a way, just make the sad boy smile and make him feel better. Niki was on caretaker duty, which wouldn’t have been bad if he was able to match her energy and make things more reciprocal. Whether he was capable of returning her efforts in a way that wasn’t token or performative is up in the air, but in fairness, it looked like he had his moments.

Ultimately Wilbur couldn’t match Niki’s faithful, caring energy. Wilbur gets very self-absorbed in times of stress, and I’m actually kind of worried about what that looked like between them, because abandonment might have only been the tip of the iceberg.

I’m going to do something kind of rare and give Wilbur the benefit of the doubt on a few points. Wil, having a relatively functional sense of cause and effect, could probably put together that he was a big part of the problem whether he wanted to be or not. It was interactions with him and his audience that would wind up getting her attacked, so the simplest answer on that front was to just not do that. I also think he knew that their power gap was sketchy, and he might have been concerned about what it said about him. Ironically this might have caused him to hurt her more in the process as he was wrestling with it, but chat had her call him a nonce in their first date video, and in a roundabout way they had a point.

#I write to music relevant to the topic and I felt Actively Guilty for listening to Half Of My Heart as I wrote this thing #Listen to that if you’d like to smack face first into a wall #Your faith / is strong / but I can only fall short for so long #Down the road / later on / you will hate that I never gave more to you #than half of my heart #Don’t worry the story has a happy ending #She literally found someone to match her energy one-to-one nikifold is the exact same type #They bonded over being similar and in the same situation #wlbr 3w4 #Nki 9w1 #oh also the standard rule applies: Lore Is Real Actually #the themes of their relationship are more or less a mirror of what happened in the minecraft roleplay #which is an insane thing that i get to keep saying about this man's life

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sugrhigh · 4 months

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BOY NEXT DOOR - ( c.s )

part two

summary- you and your roommates live beside a bunch of senior hockey players, one of them being the infamous team captain chris sturniolo. he’s effortlessly flirty and undeniably attractive, but he’s also a pain in your ass. you find that you have to fight between lust and hatred as you finally get to know the boy next door, whether you want to or not.

warnings- swearing, drinking, no smut (yet 😁)

neighbor/hockey!chris x fem!reader

a/n: WELCOME TO MY FIRST REAL SERIES! i have a lot of ideas for this cuz i love this trope dearly so buckle up! more parts will come soon. also working on a tattooartist!reader x matt series (thank you anons) that will also be out eventually. in the mean time if you have smaller/specific reqs you’d like to see, my inbox is open babies! and if u just wanna say hello or ask a question i’m here xoxo

the music booms over the speakers inside the house next door, just like it always does on the weekends (and occasionally on thursdays too). it always drives you up a wall, but tonight it’s particularly bad.

you sit up slightly in bed, absentmindedly wondering who the fuck is on aux. you’re not sure why the thought crosses your mind, but you know it’s not chris, because these picks are horrendous.

it’s already past two in the morning, not to mention it’s the middle of the week. you haven’t been able to get a wink of rest, even with your headphones blaring at full volume. usually they do the trick, but tonight’s party is relentless, demanding to be heard.

wine wednesday, you think to yourself sourly.

neither of your roommates are home; they’re both off with their significant others, somewhere that’s not here, listening to fuckface and his friends get drunk.

you’re usually pretty passive about the noise, because they provide free alcohol for you guys when you show up and typically give you notice that they’re throwing something.

but tonight it’s just too fucking much. you’re tired, and groggy, and very much so still in your silky pajama bottoms and oversized t-shirt, but you don’t give a shit.

you jam your feet into some sneakers and grab a jacket, clutching it close to your chest as you head down the stairs to the main level of your own house.

you pass the dark living room, shadows leering in the corners as you’re guided only by the light coming from the street lamps outside.

you step onto the porch and the cold smacks you in the face, breath fogging up the air. it’s the middle of january in boston, and the expanse of dead grass between your houses crunches under your feet as you tread toward the front door.

the rest of the street is quiet, aside from the party. but they’re all senior hockey players, and it’s the beginning of their last semester, so what else can you expect?

besides maybe some basic human decency every once in a while. in fact, you’re so frustrated that you’re going in without backup, and without a real plan of any kind.

for some reason, once you get up the three steps to their door, you pause to knock. as if anyone would hear you over the music, or care enough to open the door for someone who’s fucking knocking.

so you twist the handle next, and it’s unlocked. of course.

it opens to a hazey front hallway that you recognize, stairs to the left hand side, blocked off by a young-looking guy you assume is probably a freshman on duty.

the front area is full of people, pressed against the walls, chatting over the music. well, more like yelling over it.

you can smell weed, which confuses you slightly. you know none of them smoke, not during the season at least. they usually don’t let anyone do it inside the house, so it must be an allowance for a girl.

you’re already getting strange looks as you step inside, which is fair. your shorts are hidden by the length of your shirt and jacket, so you’re just legs and shoes. you’ve got no makeup on, and you didn’t check your hair before you came.

but you swallow the lump in your throat, because it doesn’t matter right now anyways.

you shift your way through the crowd, gaze skipping over the people as you finally reach the dark living room. multi-colored strobes flash, lighting up the hoards of tipsy college kids dancing on the soaked wooden floor. furniture is pushed aside to make room, though the championship banner from last year still hangs on the wall.

his eyes find you before yours find him.

he stares at you across the tops of people's heads, standing by one of the couches that’s shoved against the wall. one of his roommates, connor, is leaned back on the cushions, watching the two girls they were talking to pass a joint back and forth.

but he’s no longer focused on anyone else, because he’s spotted you across the room, and he thinks this is the most disheveled he’s ever seen you. your angry eyes lock in on him seconds later, and they narrow instantly.

you beeline toward him, right through a group of people that are half-dancing along to the terrible playlist.

he lifts his eyebrows at your attitude, but not in fear. he’s actually a little impressed. his friends are watching you warily, just as confused as everyone else who saw you walk in.

he can’t help but stare at your legs as you finally reach him, admiring how cute you look in your pajamas, pale pink bottoms peeking out underneath your shirt with every step. he briefly wonders if you’re even wearing a bra.

then you open your mouth, and the fantasy is over.

“what time is it, chris?” you snap at him, one hand balled into a fist, the other clutching your phone.

“i don’t know, but i have a feeling you’re going to tell me.” he takes a sip of his drink to try and hide his grin.

it takes a lot of self control to keep yourself from slapping it out of his fucking hand, just because of how smug he looks. you hold up the screen to his face.

two twenty-two in the morning. chris almost laughs.

“the answer is way too fucking late to be having a party on a wednesday.” you reply, bringing the device back down to rest by your thigh.

“why didn’t you come? i missed you.” he pouts.

you glance over at the people on the couch, at the girls who are still making eyes at you as they converse with connor. he’s giving you a weird look too, as if no one could possibly understand why you’re here like this.

“yeah, sure you did,” you turn back to him, “now shut this shit down before i call the cops.”

chris puts his hands up in surrender, though he knows this is an empty threat just as much as you do.

“wow, somebody’s grumpy.”

you roll your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest self-consciously. “i’m serious. tell the puck bunnies to go home for the night or i’ll do it myself.”

he takes a tiny step closer, just a few inches, and yet it still seems suffocating. he looks too good, clad in a simple black tee and jeans, and he’s studying your face with the fire of a thousand suns.

“you don’t have to be jealous because other girls are here. you know you’re my number one.” chris replies easily.

even though his tone remains light, his expression is serious now. it enrages you more, that he thinks he has so much control over you.

“as if i give a fuck. i just want to sleep, so the choice is yours. police,” you wave the hand that holds your phone slightly, “or call it off.”

chris takes another sip of his drink, tipping it back so he can finish the rest of it in one foul swoop. then he nods his head, like he’s admitting defeat.

“fine. i’ll send everyone home.”

you can feel the relief creeping over you, knowing that you don’t have to actually get law enforcement involved. “thank yo—”

“on one condition.” he interrupts, and you furrow your brows.

“no conditions, chris. we’re not bartering right now.”

“come to the game on friday and we can hang out after for a bit. i’ll even give you a practice jersey to wear.” he offers, and the trademark smirk has reappeared on his face.

lights dance across his features, morphing his expression every few seconds. you just stare, because for once, you’re actually not sure what game he’s playing.

“what, can’t get a date without having to resort to blackmail?” you taunt, and he laughs.

“please, i don’t date. and i’d hardly consider this blackmail. just think of it as getting to know your friendly neighbor on a more personal level.”

there’s a humorous glint in his eye, one that’s daring you to say yes. what’s there to be afraid of? all you have to do is watch hockey, eat some popcorn from the concession stand, and deal with his attitude for an hour afterwards.

you’re still not sure what chris is getting out of this, or why he’s insisting that you need to be there, but at this point you don’t care. all you can think about is salvaging the rest of your sleep.

“alright, fine. now you have five minutes to get everyone out, and i better not hear any more shitty remixes for the rest of the week.” you point an accusatory finger at him and he shrugs, though he’s clearly content that you caved in.

“your wish is my command, princess.”

you turn on your heel to head back outside, retracing your steps from earlier as you slip through the mob. you half expect chris to follow, just because he’s annoying, but he doesn’t.

the overhead lights are coming back on now, and you can hear deep voices shouting, combined with collective groans from the crowd as they all realize they’re being kicked out.

luckily you make it out the front door first, and you jog back up the steps to your own place to get out of the cold.

you’ve only been inside for seconds when your phone buzzes in your hand.

chris

see you friday

sweet dreams ;)

#chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #hockey au #neighbor au #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo smut #fanfic #new series #enemies to lovers

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velvetmud · 1 year

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joel figures out how to make you squirt. he exploits this discovery brutally

hhhhhhhh im in the fucking twilight zone from this

warning(s): explicit 18+, daddy kink, dirty talk, light domsub undertones-ish

joel always said he preferred getting his hands dirty, putting them to work. that same logic bled nicely into his sex life.

he never gave you any half measures when he took you in, shoved you face first in his bed. looked right down his nose at you, holding you in your place and began explaining. now the rules were, either you wet his bed with your cum or you won’t get to cum the next night at all.

first night he’d discovered your particularly messy hidden talent, three of those vicious fingers were curled up in you. pounding and prodding every spongey sweet spot he could find. he was grinning like a sadist down at your scrunched up helpless face.

“you look so fucking perfect riding on the edge, baby. just keep holding it. don’t wanna spoil the ending so soon.” his other hand crept down to spread your opening further apart to feast his eyes. listens to the wet squelch when he perks his fingers in a certain way. he tisks at your begs and pleads to give in and finish you off, even after he’s spent a good hour toying with you.

“how’s it feel to fuck on daddy’s fingers like this? bet it feels so good, shit, you’re taking them all up the way up to the knuckle. bet’chu like that, mmm that’s so perfect, lemme hear it.”

your nails latch onto his shoulder, squeezing with irreparable need. the throaty whimpers cry out of you one by one. mixing his names, joel or daddy or fuck keep going keep going please. he eggs you on to scream for him some more, stroking his ego with your unhinged volume when he starts to pick up speed. scissors his runny digits back and forth, feeling your noisy walls closing up on him.

he ducks his head back down to smack his lips with yours. lovingly digs his nose into your cheek while he curls all three of his fingers at once. his happy trail ground down onto you in harsh circles, giving you the perfect friction, fuelling the growing mess of his fingers between your legs. breathless, you pull away from his mouth with quick motion to get a hold of yourself as the pressure became more and more unbearable.

he knows you’re mere seconds away from imploding, the micro movements and noises he’s memorized and replayed over and over in his head happening right under him. he playfully nipped at the side of your ear, sucking the spot with his tongue before whispering:

“you wanna cum on these fingers for me, angel? give me something to taste?”

he can’t help the pitiful laugh at your blatant desperation. “yes yes please, please will you let me—“

joel gears up to hear your pretty sounds when you cry for him again, his half lidded eyes swimming with want when you clench around his fingers once, twice.

you squirmed and twitched as if he fed you back to god himself with an exorcism.

he snaps his head down to stare in awe when he feels your cum drenching his fingers. a warm splash gushed from your legs as he rips his fingers out, admiring the work he’s done on your weeping pussy.

“atta girl, baby. made a nice big puddle, all for me. so fucking sexy.” he dips his face down and inspects the mess, nuzzling in it shamelessly. any energy you’d normally have to overthink or feel embarrassed got fucked out of you a long time ago.

your fingers drifted down to grip a selfish handful of joel’s hair, feeling him start his journey kissing up towards your belly button.

“sorry, tonight I know I gotta wash the sheets—“

“’sorry?’” he snorts, eyes widening with an almost humorous disbelief. crawling up to lay at the head of the bed, he tangles your legs together and brushed a strand of hair stuck to your face. “you did perfect for me, angel. next time I’ll fucking drink it outta you, if you’ll let me.”

from then on, he’ll insist it’s only a coincidence that he goes out of his way to refill your glass of water a lot more frequently. claims it’s because he wants to make sure his baby girl is full and hydrated, healthy. safe. not as if he was plotting for something he’ll be doing to you later.

after all, he loved putting use to his hands, and wasn’t ever afraid of getting them dirty.

still working on my inbox everybodyyyy I think about the ideas in my inbox everyday I promise I’ll get to finishing up more. thank you for reading and for patience and for telling me any thots

masterlist + buy me a ko-fi

#joel miller smut #joel miller/reader #joel miller x y/n #joel miller fanfic #the last of us #pedro pascal #joel miller/you #joel miller x reader #joel miller hbo #joel miller x f!reader #anon #ask

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linos-luna · 6 months

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Guidance ❣️

Switch!Felix x Fem!Reader

Warnings: 18+ SMUT, mommy kink, groping

Felix wanted to try domming you for once. He just needed a little guidance.

———————————————————————

Your wrists were being held down as your boyfriend desperately made out with you. Felix was already undressed and you were left with just underwear.

He’s been waiting all day for you, wanting to show that he could dom just as good as you.

Felix moved a hand from your breasts to your neck, not squeezing but only lightly pressing; he was actually nervous about it. You took notice of the hesitation and hold his wrist at your neck, smiling a bit at him.

“Good boy…” you said breathlessly. “C’mon Lixie, don’t you wanna fuck me? I need you in me~”

Felix only nodded as you flipped around to your stomach, propping yourself so that your ass is in perfect view.

Felix lowered your panties, loving how your wetness stuck to it. He then used his fingers to run down your slit. Oh how he loved the sounds that escaped your mouth, he wanted to hear it again so he teased your clit, with a devilish smile on his face.

“Fuck.. baby…”you moaned as your head lay on the sheets.

“Do you like it? Should I keep fingering your cunt?” He said suddenly, the first time he actually spoke up in a bit.

“Lixie…” you whined. “I want you to fuck me~ fuck mommy…”

Felix was a little hesitant as he’s never taken you from behind like this. You’ve rode him and he’s fucked you from the front, but never behind like this.

“Baby~ I want you to fill mommy up…” you taunted. “I need my baby boy to cum inside me~.”

Felix couldn’t help his submissive side coming through. All he ever wants to do is listen to you.

“Yes mommy…” he muttered before pumping his length a little and teasing your hole with it, getting him even more worked up.

You whimpered a bit as he did so until a sudden smack to you ass kind of surprised you.

“Mommy needs to be patient.” He said a little more confidently with a devious smirk on his face. “I decide when mommy gets cock!”

“But I want you now—” you taunted, interrupted by another harsh spank to the same reddened cheek, having you whine in pleasurable pain.

Felix only teased your hole with his cock, ever so slightly putting in the tip before pulling out.

It was driving you insane; perhaps it’s payback for all the times you teased him.

“Beg.” He said bluntly in that deep voice before spanking you again. “Mommy doesn’t get anything until she begs.”

That little devil. You’ve taught him well.

“Please~” you said weakly. Normally you’d never beg; so now the roles were reversed, you weren’t exactly sure how he wanted it.

Another smack, this time to your thigh, instantly broke your thoughts and you moaned at the pain.

“Fuck me, Felix!” You suddenly said out loud. “I need your cock…”

“Hm?” He said while pinching the reddened area.

“Please please please! Mommy needs you~ need you to fill her up~” you whined, nearly stumbling over your words. “I want it~”

Without warning, your boyfriend suddenly thrusts into you, no real prep or anything, just straight into it.

“Fuck!” You pant at the tight fit.

“You’re so tight, mommy.” He teased while harshly grabbing your wrist and pinning it to your back before slowly moving.

He wasn’t even thrusting hard and yet you were already getting brain fog.

“More, Lixie~” you whined. “Harder~”

Something in him snapped and his thrusts suddenly became harsh and deep.

The sound of skin slapping along with your breathy moans filled the air as Felix was losing control of himself.

“Fuck- fuck- baby—!” You panted, barely able to keep yourself sane. “Harder~”

Felix was on this adrenaline high and fucked all his frustration into you. He loved the feeling of your tight walls squeezing him and the feeling of your vulnerable body under him as he pounded you mercilessly. You were his and only his.

“Yes- yes- yes- yes- fuck!” With every thrust your were blabbering out this or some incoherent nonsense.

Felix could feel his cock twitching and knew that you were close by the sounds of your high pitched moans. So he let go of your wrist and pulled you up by the hair, causing you to cry out as he pulled your back to his chest.

“Are you gonna cum, mommy?” He teased while slowing down a little and pinching your nipple.

You whimpering out loud as your moved your hips back to fuck yourself on him. He was amused and teased your clit with his fingers, sending you over the edge and instantly cumming, or perhaps even squirting.

Felix bit your neck as he came, groaning as he was sucking bruises along the side. Everyone need to know who fucked you tonight.

Your boyfriend let you go, dropping you back on the bed. He pulled out, watching as the gooey white substance practically leaked out. He used his fingers to push it back into you, making you squirm.

“Agh! Too much! Too much!” You panted.

Felix gently rubbed your waist before sucking on his two fingers that he used to push the cum in.

Watching him, you remember that he’s not a dom. He’s lost in his head and you know he’ll bend to your command.

“Lixie…” you panted. “You like mommy’s cum, baby?”

He was sucking harshly and pushing his fingers in deeper while looking at you and nodding.

“Sit on mommy’s lap.” You said with a smirk as he did exactly that. “Fingers out, babyboy.”

He shook his head which stunned you.

“Hey! You snapped your fingers. “I said fingers out!”

He hesitantly obeyed and looked at you with a pout.

“I thought you’d want something better Lixie…”

Felix bit his lip while looking down at your breasts, perky nipples and all.

“You want that, baby boy?” You tease. “You wanna suck on mommy’s tits?”

Desperately he nodded while lowering down to suck on a nipple and pinching the other.

You winced at the feeling and he continued leaving wet sloppy kisses on the soft flesh. He switched to the other one, leaving that breast wet and cold.

He loves your breasts so much that he would put his face between them and practically suffocate himself with them.

You could feel his cock twitching as he lightly bit at the sensitive nipple. You grabbed his hair and lightly pulled as he was desperately going in for more.

“You’re hurting me, baby.” You gasped while pulling his hair.

“Im sorry mommy.” He said while briefly looking at you. “I thought I was in charge…”

————————————————————————

Hello my lovelies. I’m back 😬

… for now

Reblog > Like

#kpop #kpop x reader #kpop imagines #fanfic #kpop smut #stray kids #skz x reader #stray kids smut #stray kids x poc reader #stray kids felix #subby felix #skz felix x reader #felix smut #felix skz #Skz felix x poc reader #skz felix smut #kpop x y/n #kpop fanfic #kpop x poc reader

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chrollohearttags · 1 year

Note

Eren fucking us in the Grammys bathroom before winning his reward. 😵‍💫

bro I’m sliding down the wall!! 😵‍💫😵‍💫 why did this exact thought cross my mind? Say no more.

cw: public and mirror sex, gagging, breeding, choking

it was a night in music that had been long celebrated since its inception many decades ago. Some would consider it the pinnacle of one’s musical success and a crown achievement in their career. The 54th Annual Grammy Awards, where some of the industry’s biggest stars would make an appearance. Including (y/n) (l/n) and your very talented husband, EJ, who happened to be nominated for four different awards this year; ranging from best songwriter, album of the year and even song of the year. It was a huge honor, considering that he wasn’t much for award shows and he was fairly low key. Not to mention, he just didn’t give a fuck about these events all that much…especially when his trophy was already on his arm. From the moment you came down the steps in that Mugler gown that fit like a glove, watching your hips sway as you walked on the red carpet and even left the print of your lipstick on his cheek before getting out of the limo..the only thing at the forefront of his mind was how badly he wanted to finish this up and get you alone. Too bad, he wasn’t much in the way of waiting and instead, whisked you away to the first vacant restroom, bent you over the sink and shoved his dick inside of you. The hem of that thousand dollar dressed clutched in his fist as his pants resided at his hips.. “ha!—ah..eren..fuck..” crying out in a choked up moan; watching your own expression contort through fluttering eyes, trying your best to keep them in the front of your head. But that was all but impossible feeling your husband beat your pussy sore in the bathroom of this prestigious event! He could care less about the whole politicking and who was who..not when he could relentlessly rut his hips and let your soaking heat clamp around him. With your leg hiked up against the marble countertop, Eren snaked a hand around your throat..the fractals of his AP beaming underneath the soft lighting as he choked you out; eventually fucking your pretty little mouth with two fingers to quell and quiet you. “Gotta be quiet, baby..don’t want anyone hearing us, do you?” Ironically stating, considering the fact your skin was smacking and the sound echoed throughout the empty stalls. He was trying his hardest not to smear your makeup or mark you up too much but god, he couldn’t restrain himself. Not when you felt so fucking good..dripping all down his shaft and only seconds from squirting everywhere. That plump ass being thrown back on his pelvis as well. Panting, moaning and whimpering, you’d look back at him with a sneaky expression..knowing he wouldn’t be able to resist that stare. “..let ‘em listen…I don’t give a fuck.” It seemed that was all the motivation he needed to fill you full and send you out into that crowd full of his seed. Jutting forward, he’d slam his base into your backside; speeding up his movements as he were getting closer. The pulsation of his member resonating throughout your walls. “Well if it’s like that, princess…lemme hear it then..” with that hand still clutching you, he’d lean over and nip at your ear, whispering into it while speeding up. “Who’s pussy is this? Tell me who that shit belongs to..” growling and grunting with those tight nerves flexing around him. Hoping you’d give him that final push and once you answered, Eren folded faster than you could get the words out of your mouth. “You, daddy..it’s yours.” With your faces pressed together, meshed for a messy, sloppy kiss..he’d make a couple more unrhythmic strokes before you felt that warm nut spill into that slippery sex. You both came simultaneously..letting you become before you parted ways. There was a huge grin plastered across his face and a fucked out, slutty expression over yours. That was the most intense quickie you’d ever had but that was only a teaser..a taste of how the remainder of the night would go once you finished up here. Giving you a soft pat on the ass before you two pulled yourselves together. “Don’t worry, baby. I got more for you once I win these awards. Let’s hurry up so I can get you all the way up out that dress.”

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coldfanbou · 3 months

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TM Side Stories: Stretching

Little side story for y'all with some training for Tzuyu @twice-inamillion

“Tzuyu!” Jihyo yells as she holds the blanket covering her maknae a moment earlier. “You can’t be doing that in here.” The youngest member had her hand under her pajama pants. She had been playing with herself as she and the others watched a movie. This wasn’t the only time either; since they had returned from the tour, she had been doing it all over the house.

“I’m sorry! Daddy’s just been busy, and I haven’t been able to see him.”

Jihyo huffs before dropping the blanket. “I’ll go talk to him.” She heads over to your little office space, talking as soon as she’s through the door. “Honey, you need to take responsibility for Tzuyu. She’s been masturbating all over the house because she hasn’t been able to have sex with you.”

“That is pretty bad. I’ll go take care of Tzuyu.” You stand up and head for the door. Jihyo turns around to head back to the others when you grab her arm and spin her around, stealing a kiss from her. “I love you.”

Jihyo couldn’t help but smile at the gesture, her earlier anger fading away. “I love you too. Now, go be a good daddy and take care of our special girl.” You give Jihyo a small smack on the ass as you both return to the living room. You spot Jeongyeon complaining to Tzuyu about how she needs to control herself like the others.

“It can’t be that hard, Tzuyu. Everyone else isn’t struggling like you are.” She says to her member.

“You don’t know what it’s like! You’d be the same way!”

“Calm down you two,” you interrupt. “Tzuyu come with me.” Tzuyu sticks her tongue out at Jeongyeon before following you to your bedroom.

Tzuyu grabs your hand as you both sit on the edge of the bed, pulling it toward her body. “Daddy, I want to do something different today.”

“What did you have in mind?”

“I…heard Momo and Chaeyoung talking about how you stretch their asses. I want to try it, too.” You hadn’t expected those words to come out of Tzuyu’s mouth, though you had to admit the idea of doing anal with Tzuyu turned you on. “I’m scared, though; Mommy said it hurts.”

“Listen, Tzuyu. It’s not easy to do anal. We have to start small, understand?” Tzuyu nods in response. “How about we just start with a finger?” A massive grin forms on her face, and Tzuyu hugs you.

“Thank you, Daddy. Let’s get started already!” Tzuyu stands up, throwing off her clothes without care until she’s standing before you naked. She was already wet; her lips were slick with her juices.

“Let’s get you warmed up first; just lay down on the bed.” Tzuyu follows your order, crawling onto the bed and giving you a look at her beautiful round ass. She lays down on her stomach until you tell her to move onto her back. She gives you a confused look as you strip out of your clothes and spread her legs. You dive right in, dragging your tongue along her slit and flicking her clit as you move back down.

Tzuyu reaches down and grabs your hair, moaning loudly, “Ah, Daddy.” You tease her lips, bringing your fingers against her slick cunt and pushing them inside. Tzuyu’s feet are crossed behind your back as she struggles to cope with the suddenness of it all. Just as quickly as you had pushed your fingers inside her, you pulled them out. They were coated in her nectar; it would be enough to start. As you eat her out, your hand slithers around her body until you find her puckered asshole.

“It’s going in Tzuyu.” Tzuyu moans, something you couldn’t quite catch in response, and raises her hips, giving you an easier time. You carefully push the tip of your finger inside. You feel the crushing strength of her walls around your finger as you push in a little further. Tzuyu cries out in pleasure and squeezes your head with her thighs. Tzuyu grips the bedsheets as she feels your finger move deeper into her, stretching her bit by bit.

The door opens behind you, “Are you two having fun in here?” Jihyo quickly notices you fingering Tzuyu’s ass and turns back around, leaving the room as quickly as she comes in. She had no desire to get involved in anal.

That didn’t stop Jihyo from listening in from the other side of the door, where she could still hear Tzuyu. “Ah, I want Mommy here. It hurts, Daddy.” Jihyo sighed to herself and came back in, locking the door behind her before making her way to the bed. In truth, Tzuyu was playing the sympathy card and just wanted to get Jihyo involved.

“I’m here, Tzuyu.” Jihyo lays beside Tzuyu, holding her hand as you push the rest of your finger into Tzuyu. You curl it, rubbing her walls and making her groan.

“Mommy, can you do it instead? I think your fingers are going to feel better.” Jihyo agrees after some hesitation, leading you to pull out of Tzuyu. Tzuyu flips herself onto her stomach and raises her ass to the sky, arcing her back as she waits for Jihyo to start. Jihyo prepared herself first, grabbing a bottle of lube and covering her fingers in a nice layer before getting behind her fellow member. Jihyo circled Tzuyu’s asshole slowly, teasing the young woman and making her whimper. “Mommy, don’t tease me!” She whined. Jihyo couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Alright, Tzuyu. I hope you’re ready.” That was the only warning she got before Jihyo pushed her fingers inside Tzuyu. Tzuyu moaned, enjoying the feeling of Jihyo’s fingers exploring and stretching her unused ass.

“Mmm, that feels so good,” Tzuyu moaned as she moved her ass back to get Jihyo’s fingers in deeper. “Mommy, can you eat me out like Daddy did?”

“Sure, Tzuyu,” Jihyo says as she leans in and kisses Tzuyu’s cunt. As Jihyo began eating her out, you spotted a chance to have fun with your wife. You flipped up Jihyo’s skirt, moving it to her waist and moving her panties to the side. “What are you- oh shit,” Jihyo felt her knees go weak as your cock plunged into her cunt, kissing her womb. You pulled out and rammed your cock back in, kissing her womb again and making Jihyo moan. “Don’t do that…we’re supposed to be helping Tzuyu,” She moaned, struggling to fight you off because of the pleasure; Jihyo’s body was growing hot under her clothes. She wanted to have sex but knew it could wait.

“Daddy! It’s supposed to be my turn!” Tzuyu whined. Jihyo quickly pulled her finger out of Tzuyu and pushed you away, a little said you had to stop. She lays you on the bed and tells Tzuyu to have her fun. Tzuyu quickly mounts you, not wanting to let anyone else take her time with you. Tzuyu grabs your cock, aligning herself with it before dropping onto it. Impaled on it, Tzuyu cries out in pleasure and nearly collapses on top of you. “Do you still like my pussy Daddy?”

“Of course, Tzuyu, it feels great.”

“That makes me happy. It’s only for you, Daddy.” Tzuyu begins to ride you slowly, taking her time as she revels in every inch, destroying her body. Watching this go on, Jihyo felt her body get harder; she was getting wet as she watched Tzuyu ride you and wanted to get involved. Jihyo ran her hand down Tzuyu’s back until she reached her plump ass, squeezing it before deciding to play with it some more. “Ah! Mommy, that’s not fair!” Tzuyu cried out. Jihyo had pushed her finger back into the young woman, curling her finger to rub against her walls. Tzuyu began to whimper, and you felt her walls wrapping around your cock as she neared an early climax. You lean up and steal a kiss from her, playing with her tongue as she lets out moan after moan. Tzuyu’s body starts to twitch, her body moving uncontrollably as she nears her climax. “I’m gonna cum, I’m-I’m cumming!” Tzuyu yelled as she slammed herself down on your cock. She leaned forward, her head on your shoulder as she went through her orgasm.

The young woman falls to your side, breathing heavily. She leans in, kissing you on the cheek before laying her head on a pillow. “Thank you for making me feel good, Daddy.” Tzuyu yawns before looking at Jihyo. “Mommy, I’m thirsty. Can I have some milk?”

“Sure, sweetie.” Jihyo raises her arms and gives you a look, telling you to help her. You reach for the hem of her shirt and pull it over her head, watching her breasts bounce now that they’re free. Jihyo lays down in front of Tzuyu, her back to you. Tzuyu scoots closer, wrapping her arms around Jihyo as she attaches herself to her nipple and begins to suckle on her tit. You face Jihyo’s back kissing her neck as you slide your cock back into her. Jihyo lightly moans as you begin to thrust; she pats Tzuyu’s head as the younger woman slowly drifts off to sleep, still drinking her milk. Jihyo thought to herself that she could get used to this as you cum together, your hot thick cum flooding her womb. You turn her head and kiss her to keep her quiet as you all fall asleep afterward.

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seonghwaddict · 10 months

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forget-me-not — kim hongjoong

in which the wall separating you and him is very thin, but that’s not necessarily a bad thing.

neighbour!kim hongjoong! x fem!reader. genre. fluff, comfort. warnings. a storm. wc. 1k

lilo’s notes. happy birthday @pocketjoong!! a little hongjoong drabble to celebrate sky’s birthday!! i also have a permanent taglist now so if you’d like to be added please let me know :]

listening to. round and around, jo yuri.

masterlist

you really hated thunderstorms.

as you lay in bed wide awake a little past midnight, you flinched as thunder roared outside your window, the soft pitter patter of rain hitting the glass not easing your anxious mind. usually you’d be able to handle it, but since you moved into your apartment only two months before, there was a minimal sense of comfort.

despite living here for four months, you hadn’t quite settled in. the furniture from your previous apartment was still on the other side of the country, complications with the transportation preventing you from receiving it until september. but, nevertheless, you did enjoy living here.

sure, the walls were quite thin and most nights you could hear commotion in the neighbouring apartments… but the complex was well kept and the people in the surrounding area were friendly enough. you had even gotten somewhat close with one of your neighbours.

the first time you met hongjoong was in a park just around the corner of the building 3 months ago. you had reached down to pick a flower, unaware of the handsome man reaching for the same one, vision somewhat blocked by the large box of utensils in your other hand. when your fingers brushed against each other, the two of you jumped apart as you realised what had happened.

“oh- um… you… you can have it.” you’d muttered, gesturing to the beautiful white flower.

he had merely smiled and shook his head, a soft smile stretched on his lips. “ no, no, it’s ok. you should take it. i think you would’ve reached it first anyway.”

still unsure, you furrowed your eyebrows and looked around in determination to find an equally pretty flower. finally, your eyes settled on a bundle of baby blue forget-me-nots, setting your box down and walking over two small steps to crouch and pick them. after standing up, you held the bundle of flowers out to him.

“you can have these, then,” you had smiled at him warmly, “they match your sweater.”

he bowed politely and walked away with a small smile after accepting the pretty bundle of flowers while you picked up your box in one hand and the single white flower in the other and walked to your new home. soon enough, you realised you’d have to encounter the cute silver-haired man more frequently than you expected.

this became apparent a day later when you stood in the lobby and called for the elevator to go up to your apartment. once it reached your floor and the doors slid open, there he was, standing on the other side and waiting for the same elevator.

“oh, it’s you,” you wanted to smack yourself in the face for not coming up with something better to say. but, nevertheless, that still got his attention as he glanced up from his phone screen.

after a moment, a look of recognition passed over his face and his eyes seemed impossibly soft. it had something stirring in your stomach and you weren’t sure if you welcomed it. it was then that you learned that he was the one who lived in the apartment on your right and frequently had his friends over who were sometimes so loud you could hear them through the wall of your bedroom. but you didn’t tell him about that last part.

from then on you’d see each other more often, whether it was in that same park, leaving your place as he enters his, small talk in the elevator.

eventually, he even realised how thin the walls were. one night you were scrolling through your phone in the comfort of your bed when you heard a loud thud followed by a “SHIT!” through the wall. You say up, confusion written all over your face as you tentatively knocked on the wall.

“you okay?” it took him a second to respond, looking around his room with just as much confusion to see where the voice came from until his eyes settled on the wall separating his and your bedroom.

“yeah, i’m okay.” he sat cross legged on his bed facing the white wall. then he spoke with a slight laugh, “i knocked over my lamp.”

after that incident, it wasn’t unusual for you to have late night conversations through the wall. sometimes you’d be writing your book, asking for suggestions and forgotten words through it and he would help you out. other times he’s be working on his music, playing it just loud enough for you to hear so you could give him a second opinion.

but now as you lay flinching and sobbing in your bed, everything was silent and you were alone. well… until there was a small knock on the wall by your head.

“you okay?”

you pulled the covers closer and nodded your head, soon realising he couldn’t see you. “yeah, i’m good.”

“really? because i can hear you sobbing through the wall.” you couldn’t see him either, but his face was so full of concern it was obvious he actually cared. “you can talk to me, you know…”

when you didn’t respond immediately, he thought you fell asleep. but your small, shaking voice said otherwise. “i-i’m gonna sound stupid…”

“try me.”

his answer was so sure and caring it nearly brought heat to your face. nearly. because as you opened your mouth to respond, another boom of thunder crashed outside your window that has you cursing loudly. he tilted his head, brows furrowing.

“are you scared of the storm?”

“no… okay, yes maybe a bit… a lot actually.” you admitted, squeezing your eyes shut at the prospect you just might have embarrassed yourself in front of your super handsome and pretty much perfect neighbour.

“that’s okay, there’s no need to be ashamed of it.”

you could hear the caring smile in his voice and could almost picture it as well. so, you relaxed. unsure of how to respond, you stayed silent.

“tell me about your day, y/n.”

you knew damn well he was just trying to distract you and talk you into forgetting about the weather, but you answered. and then it turned into another meaningful conversation as he kept your mind too busy to worry about the thunder and rain and lightning. your crying and flinches and shaking subsided quickly and you relaxed as you listened to the voice of the man you were beginning to fall for.

networks. @cromernet @blankjournal

taglist. @ad0rechuu

#bjnet #kim hongjoong x reader #kim hongjoong fluff #hongjoong fluff #ateez fluff #ateez x reader #ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez au #kpop writers #kpop writing #hongjoong #kim hongjoong #ateez hongjoong #hongjoong drabble #hongjoong imagine #hongjoong scenarios #cromernet

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nburkhardt · 1 year

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Part 1

Wayne Munson can read a person within a few minutes when being in the same room together

So when he comes home from work one evening, he immediately clocks an upset Steve. It’s not even surprising to see the boy in his living room nowadays. What is surprising is that his nephew is no where to be found. Neither of them speak as he takes his work boots off and jacket, then makes a quick cup of coffee and settles in the recliner.

“So, why’re you upset? My nephew forget a date?” He sips at his coffee and watches Steve tense up, he can tell the boy is holding himself back from looking towards him. It makes Wayne pause, clearly something is actually wrong. “This serious, boy?”

It doesn’t take a genius to see how much whatever it is, is really effecting Steve. It’s the way he holds himself back, even with being hunched over. How tense his shoulders are, that his hair is a mess and how he’s clutching his hands. Truthfully, Wayne can tell the boy is trying hard not to cry.

The day he officially met Steve Harrington within five minutes of talking, he grew a soft spot for the boy. It wasn’t with the way he talked about how much he liked Eddie or the way he held himself. It was because of the longing in his eyes when he thought no one was looking.

They were in a hospital waiting room, Eddie was still in surgery and Wayne had shown up to a room full of kids. The reporter girl had pulled him aside to explain what was happening and he was listening to her but glancing around the room when his eyes caught sight of a young man sitting on the floor with his back against the wall and his eyes were trained on the sight of a kid with curly hair in the arms of a woman. To anyone else, it would just be a friend watching someone else.

But to Wayne? He knew what longing looks like. Has seen it many times in his life. Especially in Eddie. The biggest difference between Steve and Eddie? His nephew learnt to hide that look, figured out how vulnerable it can be. With Steve it’s noticeable, and, it seems he wears his emotions like a jacket. It’s there and open for all to see. With all that, he immediately knew that he’ll be there to care for Steve in anyway he’d want.

He also knew, as soon as Eddie was able, that he’d be right there with him. Fast forward a few months, Wayne was correct when Eddie told him about his first date with Steve.

“I, uh. I asked him” Steve mumbles out without looking at him, “it- didn’t go as I planned”

Nodding, he places the cup down and leans forward. It’s a serious type of talk, it seems. “What happened?”

Steve shakes his head and he catches a quick sight of red teary eyes, “I told him about a gift and he panicked, thought he missed an anniversary or something. Then when I tried to ask him, it was someone’s birthday and the waiters were singing loudy. Then, then, I lost my plan and just said if he wanted to share his last name.”

He chuckles at that, but it dies down when Steve finally looks up at him. He looks just absolutely heartbroken and close to breaking completely. Schooling his face, he leans forward to grip Steve’s shoulder. It snaps his attention and Wayne’s thankful for it.

“Steve, why don’t you relax? Try again another-“

“He thought I was asking if you’d adopt me!”

Once it’s said, it’s silent. Steve’s tears have broken the invisible barrier and falling down now, it’s breaking Wayne’s old heart. Makes him want to smack Eddie upside the head for being an oblivious idiot.

“Look, how about ya go take it easy and I’ll wait up for Ed. Love that boy but he can be a bit oblivious.” Wayne shakes his head before nudging Steve’s shoulder again, “that ring of yours will get on his finger, son. Just let me talk to him”

Steve just nods, wipes at his eyes and makes his way towards Eddie’s room. Glancing at the clock, he knows Eddie won’t be back for another hour or two. Depending on if he starts on a rant, so in the meantime, he drinks his coffee and waits.

He hears the sounds of Eddie’s van nearly an hour later. He’s on his second cup, ate a quick sandwich and made sure to check if Steve followed his advice, which to his relief he did. With Steve asleep in Eddie’s room, he decided his best bet to talk with Eddie was driving. It eased his mind and with his boots back on he waits for his nephew to walk in.

“Honey, I’m hom- oh. It’s just you” Eddie looks disappointed and it makes a beeline to go to his room. Right before he’s able, he grabs hold of Eddie’s arm stopping him. “Wayne, come on. I know Stevie’s here and I’d like to join-“

He shakes his head and stands up, pull Eddie with him back towards the door, “Your boy is asleep, come with me for a drive. We gotta have a chat, alright?”

Eddie pouts but doesn’t move away, moves with him with a whine of, “but Waaaaayne! I wanna go cuddle my boyfriend!”

Rolling his eyes, he opens the door and waves a pouring Eddie out. “You’ll survive a short drive, Ed.”

Eddie dramatically groans but stomps out towards his truck and crossed his arms waiting. With another eye roll, he closes the door and joins Eddie before unlocking the doors. They both climb in silently and continue this as he drives away. It’s not until he’s on the road that Eddie finally says, “Why am I in trouble now?”

Chuckling, he shakes his head and instantly flashes back to when Eddie was fifteen and gotten in trouble in school for the first time while living with him. Wayne decided the easiest way to get anything out of the near panicking Eddie at the time was to talk while driving aimlessly around.

They’ve done this a few times since then. Eddie hasn’t caught on that it was a benefit to both of them. Emotional talks aren’t his thing. But he’ll be damned before he admits that out loud.

“Nah, ya ain’t in trouble, boy.” He finally tells him while stopping and glancing at Eddie, he’s bouncing his leg and tapping his fingers against the other leg. “Ed, serious, you ain’t in trouble. We’re just havin’ a late night drive and chat”

“About what? You only do this when I’m in trouble or, or when I came out to you” Eddie doesn’t stop his tapping but he does bring up the leg that was bouncing to lean against.

Wayne shakes his head, moving back to watch the road. Thinking over his next words, Eddie doesn’t bother with the radio and is still watching him. He knows and doesn’t call his nephew out for the staring.

“Look, I came home and your boy was upset,” He started off, glancing over quickly to see Eddie tense up. “We chatted, he’s been asking me things about ya. See if I’d know where your head is at.”

“Why- uh. Why would-“

“We both know your boy has a lot of insecurities, doubts and all that.” He came to another stop and looked over at his nephew, meeting his eyes before Eddie quickly looks away. “Don’t get lost in your insecurities right now, Ed”

Eddie shakes his head and pulls his other leg up to hug them, “why didn’t he come to me about whatever the problem is?”

He has to quickly smoother the smirk that wants to work it’s way on his face, doesn’t want to give away that Eddie’s worried over the wrong thing, “Wasn’t a major problem, mostly he wanted to know my opinion on a gift”

Eddie’s face is mostly hidden but his whole body tenses up. He look up at him with wide eyes, “You- you know what it is?”

He nods, looking away to drive again. “Ya, it’s gorgeous. Your boy sure knows how to pick things out. Asked if you’d like it, told him it just screamed you. It’ll go nicely with everything you own.”

Eddie doesn’t say a word and Wayne just silently drives back towards their home, it’s nearly too late.

“So- you knew he was gonna give me something?”

“More like, ask ya something. But we can go with that too, if you’d want”

Wayne pulls up to their home shortly after saying that, turning the truck off to turn and watch Eddie. Watches as Eddie thinks about it, slowly his cheeks turn pink and into full blown red as the realization hits him. If he didn’t love this boy so much, he’d be laughing his ass off.

“Oh fuck, I- I’m an idiot”

Shaking his head, he settled a hand on Eddie’s knee, “nah, you ain’t an idiot. Just a little slow, Ed. Now come on, go inside sleep and tomorrow you and your boy can talk. Yeah?”

Eddie only nods before getting out and making his way inside and Wayne just watches before following suit. As he walks past Eddie’s door he hears a soft conversation happening.

“I’m sorry, my beloved.”

“Why’re you sorry?”

“I’m an idiot, that’s why”

“Baby, Eds- no. Don’t say that, you really ar-“

“But I am! You, you were asking me to marry you and I stupidity thought you wanted Wayne to adopt you!”

Wayne shakes his head at that before making his way to his room, his job is done.

~~~~

The ring doesn’t make an appearance until nearly a week later.

Wayne can tell the boys are even closer now, that their communication skills have grown just a little bit better. His nephew is still a little slow sometimes but now they’re more clear in what they’re talking about and hardly interrupt each other during more serious conversations. Makes him proud to see it.

It’s during a family dinner when he spots the ring on his nephew’s finger. He smirks into his drink but doesn’t mention it, he also doesn’t mention anything when he spots Eddie’s ring on Steve’s ring finger.

He’s happy for his boys, and he can’t wait for the day they can actually get married. Because it will happen, they deserve it.

Annnnd that’s it!! I decided half way into writing the ending to end it within Wayne’s pov. It seemed fitting to me. I’d like to thank @i-less-than-three-you for the help with parts of this!! If it wasn’t for her, this fic actually wouldn’t be a thing lol.

#steddie #steddie fic #steve x eddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #Steve Harrington #Eddie Munson #Wayne Munson #stranger things #stranger things fic #the proposal fic #nburkhardt writes

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pxuvalentinx · 2 months

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Atta girl ✧ High Noon Yone x fem!reader tw: degradation, creampie, abuse (i think??), spanking, forced breeding, dub con (if theres anything else let me know<3) an: i wrote this a while ago when hn yone got first leaked, so if any new lore dropped - i wouldn't know. ✧ ˚ 　· 　　 . You swore to yourself that you’d kill every single one of those damn devils — without a single exception. You promised to avenge all the poor souls that got killed by those who made a pact with a devil. Not only that, but you’d give your life to free the west from its curse. It was the least you could do after failing so miserably to save others. So why were you bent over the saloon counter while a man rutted into you? Why were you moaning and whining his name? The name of a man who had made a pact with a devil. Bounty hunter Yone. Such an ironic title when you consider that there’s a high bounty on him as well. He hated devils, too — more than anything. His hatred took him so far that he became one of them. And god, you were thankful for it. Your thoughts were clearly getting manipulated by your tight cunt that was squeezing around his girth so deliciously that it made him growl into your ear. He wasn’t even trying to be quiet — the saloon might’ve been empty, but he wanted everyone to hear that walked by, how he was fucking this once so proud and snobbery woman into his little bitch. How she slowly became his dumb slut. Yone’s hands were on your hips as he thrusted into you from behind, pressing his pelvis against your ass while he leaned forward to whisper sweet nothings into your ear. One hand wandered up your throat, grabbing your chin with it and pulling your head back. His lips were barely two inches away from yours — “Aren’t ya just so pathetic?” He purred. “Just half an hour ago ya were soooo confident about killin’ me, tellin’ me how much ya hated ‘my kind’, how selfish I am, and now… You’re soakin’ and suckin’ in my cock like it’s ya’s life purpose.” The low growl in his voice was making your walls flutter around his dick. You hated to admit how good this felt. His hands were cold, freezing even. They sent shivers down your spine with every touch. He had this frightening and overwhelming aura that seemed to become more distinct with every thrust. His hand let go of your face after he saw the tears roll down your cheeks, proud of his work. From the corner of your eye, you could see his cocky grin.

squeeze

“Oh, fuck…!” He cursed. “Makes you this horny? Nasty bitch. Gon’ teach ya a lesson… Make…Ah~ ya regret facin’ me.” Your walls kept pulsating around his cock, massaging all of it like your cunt was made for him. It was driving him crazy, low grunts escaping his throat.

He spread your ass cheeks with his two broad hands - one gloved. Groans of satisfaction as he looked at the sight. Letting go of one and giving it a hard smack right after, leaving a stinging pain which made you whine out. Music to his ears. Another smack.

And another.

“That ass already looked good in those tight ass jeans ya were wearin’ - but I didn’t expect it to look this good without ‘em” He could feel himself getting harder at the sight, growing even bigger inside of you. “Gon’ make you ride me next time. Want to see that pretty ass bounce on my fat cock. Better show me how much of a cowgirl ya truly are.”

You turned your face to him, where he was already looking at you with the same cocky smile he had before. The pale skin in combination with his flaming orange eyes made your heart skip a beat. You never thought you’d think of a devil as handsome. Tears were streaming down your face as he continued to abuse your cunt to the best of his abilities.

Yasuo warned you of him — No, everyone warned you of him, but you didn’t want to listen. You were so confident in being able to defeat him, in being able to get one step closer to peace in the west. And here you were, squirming underneath him, sobbing because his cock just hits all the right spots too damn good, begging him to fuck you harder, to abuse your cunt just a little more because in reality you were a pathetic masochist, who loved that he treated you like a piece of fuck meat. You were begging him to fill you up with his hot seed, to make a mess out of you and your cunt - to mark it as his.

You didn’t care about the peace of the west anymore. All you could think about was Yone’s cock buried deep inside your pussy while his hands were kneading your ass in such a nice but rough manner. You wanted to cum all over his dick again and again and again.

“Oh shit, darlin’ - gonna cum. Gon’ fill your tiny little pussy with my seed, ya want that? Fuck~ Tell me how badly ya want it, sweetheart. Tell me how badly ya want to get bred by me.” Yone commanded, the same low husky tone as before.

Oh, how much this man turned you on, with his stupid low voice and his stupid grunts. “Yo- Ah~ Fuck… Please…fill me up…”

“Atta girl!”

His sloppy thrusts eventually ended up in him burying himself deep inside you, filling you up with all he has. The twitching feeling of his cock and the noises he made really hit you hard, making you squirt around him, ruining his chaps. Soft whines and pants leaving your lips. Yone threw his head back at the feeling, his hat almost falling off his head. A split second before he pulled his cock out, looking at his cum oozing out of your cunt. Yours and his fluids were mixing together on the floor. He slurred out some quiet words, while spreading your pussy to really take in the view. "Think ya can take another round?"

#yone x reader #high noon yone #high noon yone x reader #league of legends #league of legends smut #again english is not my first language #x reader #high noon league of legends #high noon skinline #smut #i need therapy

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blue-slxt · 7 months

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Kinktober 28

🔞Minors Do Not Interact🔞

Kinktober Masterlist

A/N: This one is another personal favorite of mine! Praise is my shit lol. I also couldn't help but sneak my breeding kink in there too. I hope you guys enjoy! All characters are aged up.

Pairing: Neteyam x Fem!Omatikaya!Reader

Warnings: Oral (F receiving), P in V, Praise, Breeding kink, Creampie

You hear footsteps enter your kelku and don’t even bother to turn around and see who it is. “Welcome home, Ma Teyam.” You call out over your shoulder and continue letting your fingers work on sewing the small satchel in your hands. Neteyam walks over and sits down behind you wrapping his arms around you.

“What are you working on?” he asks resting his chin on your shoulder to watch you work.

“I heard that Tuk needed a new skin because hers tore so I was making this for her.”

If there was one sure fire way to Neteyam’s heart, it was showing that you loved his family. Nothing made a buzz go straight to his head faster.

He nuzzles his face into the side of your neck and presses light kisses into your skin. “I love you. You are too sweet, you know that?” he mutters.

You smile feeling his lips on your neck knowing where he was going with this. “Neteyam…” it’s supposed to be a warning, but it comes out more as a moan which just spurs him on even more.

“You are so beautiful. So skilled…” his words come through between kisses he trails over the skin of your neck and shoulder. His hands start to roam and grope at your body. Neteyam knew you well enough to know that all his little praises were turning you on. He always does this. Not that you mind, though. Your hands fall and your breathing gets heavier in your chest.

“You’re always so good. Makes me want to give you a baby.” He continues getting lost in his own desire for you and letting his fingers play with the waist band of your loincloth.

“And here I thought you said you wanted to wait a little bit longer.” You tease letting your head roll to the side and give him more access to you.

“Screw that. I want it now. You’d make such a pretty mama. So beautiful carrying my baby.”

You bite your lip feeling his cock already grinding against your back.

“Then what are you waiting for?”

His fangs graze your skin when he smiles and a low groan leaves his throat. One of his hands pushes you forward so that you’re on your knees and elbows in front of him. Your tail waves teasingly at him inviting him in. He wastes no time getting your loincloth off and his own. He gives himself a couple of strokes while staring down your dripping cunt fully on display for him. He can’t help himself from leaning down and tongue kissing your pussy and moaning at your taste.

“Mmm so pink and pretty. And you always taste so sweet. Is this all for me?” he says when his tongue isn’t busy burying itself inside of you.

“Mmhm, it’s yours”

“Good girl” he purrs as he finally sinks his dick into your waiting walls.

A filthy moan drops from your lips while Neteyam starts a steady pace thrusting into you. The constant sound of smack smack smack of his hips against yours made him dizzy with lust.

“Ah, you feel so good, yawne. Taking me so well. I love watching the way your pussy stretches around me. Fuuuck…”

Your head is absolutely spinning between the way his cock is kissing your cervix and how his words are tingling down the back of your neck.

“Haah, more Neteyam! Please!” you cry out.

He leans over right next to your ear, “Look at my good girl using her words.” He can feel himself getting closer to that edge, but he will be damned if he doesn’t get you to finish first. “My special girl, you’re so good letting me use you like this. Making me feel so good.”

“Fuck! I’m going to cum, Neteyam!” the pressure is about to overflow out of your body feeling his cock dragging against that special spot deep inside. “Cum inside of me, please! I need it! Need it so bad!”

A deep growl rumbles in his chest listening to you beg him for his seed. It made him inconceivably hard.

Your chest presses into the ground when your back arches and your thighs tremble feeling your mind and body crash into your orgasm. Neteyam’s name rolls off your tongue like a thankful prayer.

“There you go, yawne. Just like that. Show me how good you feel. Now, take all of it.” His thrusts grow sloppy and lose their rhythm just as he finally lets go and spills his cum into you. Your walls are still pulsing from your release and it feels like he’ll never stop cumming with you coaxing more out of him like that.

His hands hold your hips in place and he stills inside of you hoping to keep as much of his seed inside of you as he can. He leaves kisses up the back of your neck and shoulder whispering about how well you did. An exhausted smiles crawls onto your face while Neteyam brushes some of your braids out of your face.

“I can’t wait to see you pregnant” he says subtly scenting you.

“That’s if it takes.” You mumble out absent mindedly.

“Hmm, good point.” He says wrapping his tail around your thigh and pulling you back with him so that he was lying on his back and you were sitting on top of him backwards. His hand falls in one swift smack on your ass making you yelp out in surprise.

“Guess we should try a couple more times just to be sure.”

Kinktober Taglist: @pandoraslxna @ashlatano7567 @sincerelykaib @jamies-wh0re @quaritchsluts @jakescumdump @delacruzyari @onlyloaksgf @skywonder @taintedlovesworld @myloveforyouisforever @angie-1306 @moodays @childofgod-05 @hadesbabygurl @daddysmurfslefttoenail @loaksulluyswife @y4sm1nsstuff @thewhiltedpeony @lovefrommeelise @neteyamssyulang @rosyjn @imintoomanyfandomscuzihaveadhd @anaclaudiasugar @xxwelshqueenxx @hania11 @xylianasblog @idkanymoregirl @eyrina-avatar @biscuitsaredelish @quinn-sadilla @the_mourning_moon @eyweveng @puddleswimmingnerd-blog @xaxsir @jakesullyfatjuicypeen @navilover24 @sulieykte @iameatingmyhair @leaveitbythewave @ntymavtr @fifilynn16 @kiri-tuk @mstocky78 @neteyamyawne @randumfanfics @sliqeramx @bluewonder @the-morning-moon @nerdfacesposts @vip-btxch @neteyamsyawntu @teyamsatan @narwhal-swimmingintheocean @dixonjunkie

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#avatar #avatar the way of water #neteyam #neteyam sully #neteyam x reader #avatar fic #awow #neteyam x na'vi!reader #atwow #atwow neteyam #avatar twow #avatar neteyam #neteyam te suli tsyeyk'itan #avatar smut #neteyam smut #avatar way of water #lunaskinktober2023

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eliecasa · 1 year

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summary: reader see’s a man spank a box on tiktok & it awakens a monster

warnings: minors i know I said I wouldn’t but we all lie as humans. this is one of those times where you mustn’t interact, plss ( contains these mentions: asphyxiation, verbal, and spanking kinks ) the reader is mentioned to have a vagina.

wrdcnt: 2K

inspo

A small huff of frustration pushed from your nostrils as you’re once again opening your eyes to stare out into the rainy darkness of the night. The sight is usually lovely and heart-warming as it was Simon’s wish to live somewhere with nature all the while staying a generous 20 minutes away from the city. It’s quiet here but there’s a memory that echoes loud and vibrantly in the back of your mind.

Simon sat still, sleeping as quiet as a mouse as you squeezed your eyes shut and subtly rubbed your thighs together. If you’d never downloaded tiktok, you’ll probably be sound asleep and dreaming of a dog handing you something as strange as a sweater with your own face sewn into it. Soap suggested that it be a good idea to keep a good balance of humor and seriousness since Simon would be left alone to tease you without anyone else jumping in to defend you, and the only way to do that was to give in and download the god-forsaken TikTok app.

Oh how you wish you’d never listened to him.

The first thing you’re greeted with is a video of a buff man underhand smacking a box to fit evenly with the others atop and below it. It came immensely loud from your headphones and caused a barely-audible yelp to part your lips. Your first thought was to get out of there so, you did… by scrolling one video down as Simon came over from the kitchen and asked what was wrong. And of course, having lacked a good answer, you merely waved him off and cleared your throat, saying that your headphones were accidentally turned to maximum volume.

He squinted those dark and suspicious eyes before humming and going back to make dinner- which was the deal for an old bet that he lost. Anyway, you’re instantly back on the video and fluttering with little butterflies of heat and embarrassment… that was until you opened the comments and saw that everyone else was thinking the same. Even married people were saying things such as “I try to get my husband to do this but he doesn’t know manual labor too well” which tickled you a little bit.

Though you were laughing at the time, you found yourself staring at Simon’s hands a bit longer than usual as the two of you ate dinner together. Don’t be mistaken, Simon had done nearly everything you desired with those strong pair of hands but still, that new seed planted in your head was quickly taking over and growing vines up and down the walls of your busy mind.

“What’s on your mind?” He said after watching you daydream for five minutes. It almost seems deliberate as he moved to hide his hands underneath the table. Classic Mr. RIley.

“...Nothin’,” you shrugged, connecting your gaze before promptly taking a good chunk of spanish rice.

Simon paused and did that empty stare where he kinda just assessed you before going back to whatever business he was originally doing. The judgemental gaze causes the slightest of shame to boil your skin as you roll your eyes. He’s your husband and has seen and touched every nook and cranny of your body and for some reason, you don’t want to tell him what’s bothering you.

Fast forward back into the present. The fluffy white comforter seems to get unbearably hot just as the heat radiating from Simon does. Sex and experiment is no taboo between the two of you and your coyness was just overall pitiful, however, that small little angel in your head keeps saying “Well, you have to really ask yourself if he’s the type to wound his loving spouse” while the devil said “Tell him to throw you over his lap and spank you like that goddamn cardboard!”

Again, you rub your thighs together. Maybe your mind was turning into one of those awful hormone monsters from a show that shall not be named. A small sound of anger escaped your mouth as you try to clear your mind, knowing that Simon would get woken–

“Having a strop, are ya’?” His heavy voice felt heavy and trapping as you knew that this was the most reasonable time to just get it over with.

Almost too quickly, you flip in his arms and lock eyes with him. Well, he was still waking up but your patience led you to gently pinch various areas of his face before he’s basically stretching his neck to be freed.

“Fuckin’ stop will ya?”

“Why haven’t you ever gotten rough with me?”

In the moonlight that shows through your windows, you can see the way that Simon’s face bunches into one handsome twist of confusion and tiredness. His eyes slowly open to look at the ceiling before he turns his head and stares dead into your eyes.

“What do you mean?”

Your right hand moved back a couple of inches and came back to gently slap him as his face remained cradled in your hands. A small chuckle escapes him before he pinches your thigh.

“Why’re you kicking my ass instead of explaining–”

“I obviously mean- like during sex,” you spoke with the tiniest amount of annoyance in your voice as the sexual frustration was beginning to plague.

The hand on your thigh rested as his face relaxed.

“I do… it was your idea to get into the choking thing-”

“No! I mean- yes that but why don’t you ever hit me?”

He seems to relax into the pillows a bit more as his eyes darted back to the white and plain ceiling. Simon was taking a moment to actually think if he’s never done such since it seems like a problem that could have been bothering you for who knows how long. Maybe you were doing that classic tactic of trying to alter his memory for your own benefit. There’s been multiple times where you’d lay on top of him and ask when was the last time he’d give you proper praise despite him clearly remembering it happening two days ago. He tilts his head, thinking of the past five months. The two of you had gotten into a couple new positions, areas to have sex, as well as experimenting with verbal kinks. Not to mention that asphyxiation kink that appeared to stay and make an appearance during each session.

“Simon!”

“I know, I know… just making sure you aren’t lying,” he said, casually sitting up to turn on the blinding light next to the bed. You try not to grab him as he moves from over you to settle back and rub his eyes.

“What needs to be done to get you sound, eh?”

A lightning bolt strikes as you pretend to think as if Apollo was saying “Don’t you dare waste that man's time, Y/N.”

So, instead of pissing anyone off, you decide you sit on your knees and face Simon with your chin up and your shirt covering your sweaty palms that were hidden underneath the oversized fabric. You’re ex-military and you’re especially all but a coward. Simon Riley will not stop you from reaching your dreams.

“I want you to start…” your lips twist in the slightest as you try to find the right words just to settle on “spanking me…”

He tries not to seem surprised but the smallest raise of his eyebrows gave it all away.

“Today,” you finish, almost coming off stern and unmovable.

Many would disagree with this but you could say that Simon had very telling eyes and right now, he was not only questioning just how freaky you were as well as how much of a possible masochist you were underneath that loving and soothing base of your personality. The asphyxiation thing was brought up during sex so he couldn’t really so no to you in the heat of the moment but now you’ve caught him fresh out of an innocent sleep.

“Are you… sure?--”

“Simon,” you dare, looking away for a second before shaking your head at his timidness.

He wasn’t following the script; you’d admit that you wanted to be spanked and he would pat his lap and get to work. That’s how it was supposed to go! However, Simon wanted to play the long game and see how long he could drag this until the sun began to rise.

“Why didn’t you say this instead of staring at my hands the entire meal?”

“Who the hell would just come out and say ‘Hey, mind hitting my ass when we fuck’?”

A small smile spreads his pink lips as his shoulders momentarily hunch.

“You’re not shy any other time.”

For the 800th time, your pupils roll to the back of your head. As you’re shaking your disappointed little head, you pause to see that the storm seems to calm down a bit, instead turning into a windless pour that wouldn’t wake anyone if they were sleeping. The silence left you no choice as Simon indeed began to follow the script written in your head.

“Guess we’d better get to trying before you’re all snappy then,” his heavy mancunian accent coming loudly as he stood up and stretched.

The movement caught your attention and glued it onto his strong thighs. Simon was a brief type of guy— which was honestly a bit surprising when you first discovered it. The soft fabric remained comfortably on his strong thighs that would soon have you stretched across them.

There’s a couple of heavy steps across the bedroom floor before he settled on the front of the bed and in front of the black screen of the television.

“Are you serious?” you purse your lips, crawling towards him as he looks at you from over his shoulder.

Instead of being verbal, he jerks his head to coax you over as a barely-noticeable smile squints his eyes.

And be damned; you were over there in no time. But instead of instantly giving you what you wanted, Simon couldn’t help but tease you a while longer. Only now do you wish he was a quick mover that despised roleplay. Your hips jump a little as two of his slightly-calloused fingers slid down the smooth and silk skin and dew of your cunt.

“Why the long face, doll?” He laughed, taking a glance at the way your lips and eyes were tightly closed shut.

“Do your thing, Simon,” you spoke quickly to muffle a sound of pleasure by covering your mouth and turning away from his eyes-view.

“I just wanted to feel you a little bit, no harm done,” he gently slapped your soppy cunt before lifting your shirt to bunch around the waist. Tonight, you were just wearing a normal pair of lace panties without the partner of a bra. Bras are vibe killers and the world could do without. Plus– it gives your lover easier access to rest or warm his hands when he’s bored.

Anticipation made the fabric become nearly insufferable as the room seemed to double in heat.

“Keep these on?”

You thought, looking at the shiny oak of your bedroom floor before giving him a muffled response.

“I don’t mind them staying on.”

As so, his ring finger released your panty and turned into a palm that smooths over the entirety of your plump ass. The feeling of Simon’s hands on your bum had often aroused you more than it probably should have. He’s never spanked you but he's grabbed it and caressed it as often as you allowed. The way he’d squeeze long enough to make it hurt had always brought out the bedroom hormones even though sometimes he would do it somewhere other than the comfort of your home. anything that made you feel like his was enough to keep it wet for hours.

“What are you waiting fo-AH!” you nearly turn into a flailing mess before your hands quickly resettled onto Simon’s strong thigh which was trembling with amusement.

For someone who was wary of hitting you, he’d come down really heavy handed. You’re a first-timer, it wouldn’t have killed him to at least warn you. However, the hot and stinging feeling is an arousal-multiplying sensation that has your mouth feeling a little numb and your adrenaline flowing.

Your eyes nearly comically blow wide as the two of you make eye-contact, Simon’s face being one of subdued delight as you gently pant out.

“Do. That. Again.”

#call of duty imagines #call of duty x reader #cod x reader #call of duty #cod smut #ghost x reader #ghost call of duty #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #ghost smut #simon riley smut #cod x you

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ozarkthedog · 1 year

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𝐒𝐡𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐬

summary: after an argument with Tommy, Joel notices you walking home and sees an opportunity to relieve his anger.

warnings: 18+ only. dark!joel miller x f!reader. dead dove. noncon. assault. threats. mention of stalking. breeding kink. no beta.

word count: 1.3k

author’s note: i’ve been in a dark! mood lately and this was the result. thanks to @ghotifishreads for being a supportive hoe. gifs by @nicolethered

☽ 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭 ♁ 𝐋𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 ♁ 𝐉𝐨𝐞𝐥 𝐌𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭 ☾

The streets are quiet and it feels so right To be out of line like the shape of my veins For you, for you, for you - Mansionair

“What’d I tell ya about being out this late?”

You skid on the snow covered payment. The bellowing tone shakes you to the bone making you shiver beneath your winter coat. You know that voice. The one that, at first, made you feel all warm and fuzzy, but now, you did your best to duck out of view whenever you heard his deep timbre while you were out around town.

You swallow hard and raise a hand to shield your face from the falling snow. “Joel?”

The older man stalks toward you leaving something dark in his wake. Hot air puffs from his nose and mouth like a dragon into the cold night. His jaw is set in a hard line, anger seeping from his skin. “Want to tell me what you’re doing out here?”

You try not to cower as he pins you with an ominous glare. “I was helping stock the shelves at the market.” You meekly reply. “Besides it’s not that late and it’s safe.” You say, waving your hands around showcasing the barren streets.

You’d been living at the compound for the past year and finally felt like you could call this place home. You don’t know why he was so adamant about looking out for you. Ever since he came into your life, he was a thorn in your side.

“That’s just it. No matter how safe you feel, you never really are.”

White hot pain brands your skin when he lands a rough smack to the apple of your cheek. You stumble back a step and clutch your jaw in shock. Tears prick your eyes as snowflakes melt on your raised, warm cheek.

“See? Look how easily I was able to hurt you.” His eyes flit down your body, growing darker by the second, much darker than you’d ever seen. “It’d be a real shame if something much worse happened.”

Your mouth drops open with a fearful shout but he cuts it off with a vile punch to your belly. Pain ignites in your gut pitching you forward with a sick gag as you clutch your stomach. Nausea crawls up your throat as you clutch your stomach with a fearful gasp.

Joel grabs the scruff of your jacket and roughly yanks you upright. He carelessly drags you into a dark alley making the tendons in your abdomen throb and scream as he man handles you into the shadowy abyss. Your boots slip and slide on the snowy surface not allowing you an ounce of traction. You couldn’t put up a fight, no matter how pitiful it’d be.

He cages you against the frigid brick wall and smothers your cries with his palm. His leather glove smells of wood and smoke from a day in the barn as he kicks your feet apart. He grinds his half hard girth into your belly and a fresh wave of fear races up your spine.

“Just showing you all the awful things that could happen, Sweetheart. Always gotta be prepared.” He leans his chin on his glove with a smirk. “Be good to me. I don’t wanna have to mess up that pretty face.” A dark chuckle rumbles from his chest when you whimper under his palm.

Tears spill over your lashes as he uses his free hand to unbuckle his jeans and tugs on his thick length. “If only you’d listened.” He mutters, shaking his head. “Then you’d be at home all curled up in that cute oversized band shirt you always wear.”

Your brain slowly registers his words. He’d been watching you.

He spins you around and slams your body against the hard bricks before a gloved hand wraps around your neck as a warning. Warmth fans your cheek as he husks against your skin. “If you make so much as a peep, I’ll cut your tongue out.”

Your bottom lip quivers and a small gasp escapes the tight confines of your throat.

Joel snickers at your pitiful face. “Good girl. Now stick that ass out.”

When you don’t move fast enough, a brash hand on the back of your neck yanks you from the wall and folds your body in half.

“Hands where I can see ‘em.” He grits, waiting to move his hold on your neck until you place both hands on the wall in front of you.

With precision, he unbuttons your jeans and slides them down just far enough for him to stake his claim. You hiss when leather bound fingers prod your folds and deftly rub your mound. “Shit- you got a nice puffy pussy.” He comments while tapping the blunt head of his cock against your slit. “Gonna look so good spread open on my cock.”

He sheaths his entire length in your heat in one fluid motion. Pain erupts in your lower half forcing your head to drop between your shoulders. Your nails bend and break as they scrape down the brick while he ruts carelessly into you. He snarls like a beast savagely taking down prey.

Your elbows bend from the force of each thrust sending you closer to the wall on every drive as his pelvis smacks into your ass. “Takin’ me so good. Shit-” Joel hisses. “Such’a tight cunt.” His hips saw back and forth, gliding his thickness along your swollen channel, hitting spots that make you cringe with pain and pleasure.

Joel adjusts his grip and in the blink of an eye, pulls you into a standing position with one arm locked around your clavicle. His cock feels even more massive. Your body burns and you can barely breathe while he’s inside you.

It’s too much. He’s too much.

Mustached lips brush the shell of your ear. “You’re gettin’ wet.” He states with a vile grunt. “Never pegged you for a pain slut but you feel like you’re gonna come.”

Metal floods your mouth as you bite your cheek to keep from screaming into the night. Unwanted pleasure creeps up your spine and you want to vomit as he keeps moving. He cants his hips and directly aims for the spot behind your clit pushing you towards the edge whether you want it or not.

“Love watchin’ you struggle. That dumb brain of yours thinkin’ it can escape this,” Joel sneers and snaps his hips even harder. “but you’re mine, girl. Gonna make sure you fuckin’ understand.”

Teeth gnaw into your skin, marking the sensitive column of your neck, and setting off the immense pressure that steadily builds in your gut. He slams a gloved hand over your lips as you orgasm, cutting off your cries while your cunt swirls around his length as you explode into a million pieces.

The swell of his cock and his frantic pace registers in the back of your mind. You desperately scream into his gloved palm and struggle to get free despite his vice-lock grip around your frame. “Gonna be a good lil’ wife for me? A good mommy, yeah?”

Your screams are soft rumbles under the butter like leather as he takes his fill and shoves his cock as deep as it can go. His bulbous crown painfully grazes your cervix and nausea creeps up your throat once more.

A ragged groan vibrates your jaw as he reaches his end and fills you to the brim. Hips slam against your ass one final time before staying glued to you making sure nothing drips out. “Gotta make sure it sticks.”

Tears spill over his glove as he keeps your cries at bay. He nudges your cheek with his nose in a gross display of affection before slipping from your heat with a hiss. “Now, no funny business. You hear me?” He gives your jaw a rough squeeze before letting his hand fall.

The freezing winter air burns your lungs and the seed that drips between your legs scalds you. You fall against the wall with a whimper once he lets you go. Wanting to disappear, you curl into the wall and pray for him to leave but he’s at your side, like a moth to the flame.

You jolt as he tugs your jeans back into place. “S’only me.” He chuckles.

Joel curls an arm around your neck before walking you out of the alley and in the direction of his house. “Let’s get you home.” He kisses the crown of your head with a sigh. “Safe and sound.”

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #dark!joel miller #joel miller #dark!joel miller x you #dark!joel miller x reader #pedro pascal

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lovebugism · 1 year

Text

YOU'RE ON YOUR OWN, KID | the beginning.

summary: a year after the end of the world, you and steve share one cigarette and two confessions. (6k)

listen to: "as the world falls down" by david bowie

tags: f!reader, roadtrip fic, friends to lovers, slow burn, mutual pining, angst & comfort, post st4, selective canon divergence (some things happen, some things don't), reader goes by the nickname "scout" TW panic attacks, conversations about grief, steve harrington smokes but he's still hot, outfit inspo (not indicative of what r's body type/skin color/etc.)

a/n: kinda surreal that i'm posting this because it's something i've been working on/thinking about for Months. i put so much time and effort and tears into this series so pleasepleaseplease enjoy it! as always, let me know what you think! let's watch these two (sort of) friends run away and fall in love with each other, shall we? <3

JOURNALS | MASTERLIST | SPOTIFY

★。＼｜／。★

The beginning of the rest of your life starts in the murky alleyway outside The Velvet Lounge.

It’s pretty fitting, actually. You feel like you’re close to dying anyway.

The lightning strike of a panic attack comes first as a cold hand around your throat. The clawed talon of a long-gone monster strangles you — sucks all the air out of your lungs and leaves you gasping for a breath you know won’t come.

A second later and the light-up dance floor beneath your feet begins to sway. You blink, and it becomes the desiccated terrain of the Upside Down — again, and the glowing rainbow tiles return. Eventually, it becomes impossible to discern the real from the imaginary.

You feel a bit like the world’s caving in on itself as you stumble through the bustling crowd. The thumping of the heady bass strums throughout your body as you squeeze between a mob of sweatier ones. The merciless pounding makes you forget that your heart’s no longer beating.

The heavy breeze of a summer night smacks you in the face. There is no fresh air outside the buzzing nightclub, just more emptiness.

You lean against the brick wall, clutching desperately onto your chest as you stumble from the exit. The world around you starts to spin on its side, going blurry like you’re being pulled underwater.

You’re drowning, but none’s coming to save you.

To everyone else, you’re just a girl that’s had too many. The girl that’s lost too much.

You duck into the dark alley with the intention of withering away there.

A warm hand brings you back to life.

“Shit, Scout,” Steve Harrington curses behind you. “Are you— Are you okay?”

You’ve never heard the nickname leave his mouth so gently. You don’t think he’s ever touched you so softly, either. It’s all so foreignly tender compared to the war raging inside your skull — you think it would’ve made you weep if you were capable of catching your breath.

His presence is only startling in the sense that you hadn’t expected to find him there.

It was pretty much the reason you’d slinked through the dimly lit passageway in the first place — to die completely and utterly alone. The flickering orange lamplight and damp brick made this place more adequate for puking college kids, canoodling couples, and conniving Ted Bundy’s of the world. Not pretty Steve and his pretty clothes and his pretty hair.

You’re more humiliated at having been caught than you are alarmed by it.

You figure you really shouldn’t be. He’s already seen you at your worst. On your deathbed, crying so hard you puke, so far gone from the world that you’re practically a ghost — that kind of worst.

But for some reason, his wide palm on your shoulder makes you feel fragile. Small. He stands fathoms above you and you’re nothing but an ant under his sneaker — a little delicate thing he could crush completely if he wanted.

Instead, Steve holds you.

His long fingers cradle your trembling shoulder in a steady embrace. A warm reminder that you’re not alone in this gloomy alleyway that still thrums with life. That, in some ways, you’ve never really been alone at all.

“Yeah,” you answer finally, nodding but not looking over at him. You swallow through a tightening throat. “I just… I just need to, uh… to catch my breath.”

Steve eyes you with a gaze swimming with apprehension.

Your shoulder presses into the rough brick while your other hand clings desperately to your chest. Your fingers dig into the soft cotton of your shirt like you’re reaching for your thundering heart. Each of your breaths is ragged, forced, worked for. You grunt your way through every impossible inhale.

Facing away from him under the dim amber streetlight, he can barely make out your profile. He only gets glimpses of your scrunched face and the tear that glimmers gold on your cheek. But with his hand on your arm, he can feel the rapid up-and-down motion of your heavy breaths. Panic sizzles off of you and onto him like static shock.

“Yeah, it was getting kinda crazy in there, huh?” he says within a halfhearted laugh. “I didn’t know people like Duran Duran so much.”

It’s nothing more than a feeble attempt to get you to laugh.

And it works. Sort of.

You’d lost sight of Steve somewhere around the time “Girls on Film” came on. Nancy’s drunken hand pulled you to the dance floor, and every other tipsy woman followed right behind you. He hadn’t seemed to care much about dancing, though. He just sat in the corner booth with Robin until Vickie came by and stole her away. The last you saw him, he was sitting alone at the bar with a basket of chicken wings before disappearing entirely.

But he hadn’t disappeared, you figured. He was just here, in this eerily empty alleyway, trying to get away from it all just as much as you were.

Steve sees the corners of your mouth quirk upward in a grimacing sort of smile. A scoff sounds from your throat a moment later. He thinks that might be the sort of laugh you get from a girl who doesn’t have much to find humor in anymore.

Your newfound relief is his own.

“You okay now?” he asks once you’ve caught your breath.

You nod and settle back against the brick. The fabric of your shirt sticks to the prickly clay. “Yeah,” you repeat, more truthfully this time. “Thanks— Thank you.”

You’re forced to mourn the warmth of the broad hand on your shoulder when he pulls away from you.

He doesn’t stray far, though. He remains at your side with his back to the brick — his frame much taller than your own, broader too. His woody cologne swirls with the purer scent of a summer night and the distant smell of beer. He holds within him an air that can only be described as all-consuming. He’s exactly the feeling of everything warm despite the several inches that separate you.

Steve offers you the lit cigarette in his left hand, and for a reason you can’t name, his kindness takes you by surprise. You’ve fought a monster with the guy, but he still feels like a total stranger to you sometimes.

He sees you hesitate and thinks that this might be the first time either of you have been alone together. You don’t have anything in common except for the party. Without one of the members to accompany you, the fact becomes a heavier weight to bear.

It’s sort of like a peace offering — this half-gone cigarette. A ‘hey, I know we aren’t really friends, but maybe we could be.’

You take it. “Thanks…”

Steve watches you puff from the stick. You hold the thing between your thumb and forefinger, pinching it as you bring it up to your mouth. The huff you take isn’t a deep one, probably the fault of your still staggering breaths, but your eyes flutter shut on the exhale like you’re grateful for the nicotine fix.

He realizes then that he’s never looked at you before. Like, really looked.

Like a ghost, you tend to blend easily into the background, floating around in the shadows without ever being seen. You’re only out tonight because Robin and Nancy forced your hand, but in your darkened outfit — cropped tee, plain skirt, worn boots, all varying shades of black — you threaten to blend in with the night. You do it all with the finesse of a girl who’s all but disconnected herself from the world.

You catch him staring when you hand the cigarette back.

You don’t look weirded out by his prying gaze — quite the opposite, really. You cower under the attention, chin tilting toward your chest and a sheepish smile hinting at your lips. Embarrassed without any actual reason to be.

“Wanna tell me the real reason you came out here?” Steve asks you, covering the serious inquiry with a joking lilt.

Your brows furrow as you watch him bring the cigarette to his own mouth. He’s got this look on his face — raised brows, wide eyes, and quirked lips — almost like he’s teasing you.

You breathe out an awkward laugh.

“What do you mean? I just told you.” You try to smile, but it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. It looks more like you’re wincing as you shift your weight on your feet. “I just needed to—”

“To catch your breath,” Steve finishes for you, smoke billowing from his pink lips. The grey lingers between you for a moment before disappearing entirely. He nods with a lopsided grin before handing you back the cigarette. “Yeah. I heard you. I just don’t believe you.”

Your eyes go wide. He can’t tell if you’re shocked by his bluntness or if you’re embarrassed at having been caught so quickly. Maybe a healthy mixture of both.

Your throat tightens all over again. You swallow thickly as you turn away from him and it feels like you’re forcing down a too big pill. The back of your eyes burn with unshed tears, so many stinging needles that you force yourself to blink away.

And even though you’re just trying not to cry at the reality of the situation you’ve spent a year hiding from, to Steve it looks like you’re searching for a way out. Your gaze snaps to the opening of the alley where nicely dressed people bustle on the other side, their conversations far away and muffled.

He hadn’t meant to make you uncomfortable. He just thought you could use a friend, considering you were only just recovering from the windswept panic spell.

“Look. You— You tell me why you’re out here, and I’ll tell you why I am,” he offers, partly to make you feel better.

The other half of it, which he finds it startling to admit, is that he doesn’t want you to leave.

He’d spent fifteen minutes by himself in the dark — half comforted by it, half frightened. Despite his distant unfamiliarity with you, he’s weirdly comforted by your presence. Steve’s seen enough people walk away from him to know he doesn’t want you to join them.

You look at him again, more glassy-eyed than you’d been before. Your sniffle is nearly inaudible. “What do you mean?”

He shrugs. “You know… A you-show-me-yours, I’ll-show-you-mine kinda thing.”

It sounds a lot weirder coming out of his mouth than he expected it to. It makes you laugh, though, so it feels sort of worth it.

“That sounds really pervy,” you tease with a more sincere smile.

“Yeah. Sorry. Just— Maybe just ignore that last part, yeah?” he stammers stiffly, laughing softly at himself shortly after.

You finally take a hit from the cig between your fingers. Your gaze falls to your boots.

They were a gift from someone you knew a long time ago — someone you don’t know anymore because they’re gone.

It was a well-loved anniversary present you’ve worn every day since you got them. They’re a bit tattered now, obviously worn on the platformed bottoms. You don’t know how many times you’ve glued the soles back together now — or how many times you’ve tried to wash away the faded bloodstain by the laces that refuses to come out.

It’s as stuck there as the memories in your head are.

And even though you’ve never talked about it out loud, you think you could write a million words about how looking at the stain makes you feel — about all the thoughts that swirl within you at the sight of it and why you can’t throw them out despite it all. You’d write about the boy who bought them for you, whose name it’s still so hard to say — the boy who you loved who was gone.

It was just easier to shove it all down.

You kept your grief horribly discreet, like a poorly stitched-together wound.

If you couldn’t even burden yourself with it, why should you expect anyone else to?

But here Steve goes, offering to let that raging wound breathe.

Something about the ultimatum makes it more comforting. It’s a lot easier to tell a kept secret when you know another hidden confession is coming right after it. You don’t know if you’ll ever get this chance again — to shield your grief with someone else’s.

“Okay,” you answer suddenly before exhaling the gray from your lungs. You outstretch your hand to give him the cigarette back. You try to smile. “You first, though.”

Steve puffs from the stick before he answers you. For a moment, it’s nothing but muffled conversations and a stifled bass that rattles the brick. The quiet is noticeably less suffocating than all the quiets you’ve known before — less lonely now that you’ve got someone to share them with.

“I hate parties,” he summarizes with a shrug.

“Yeah, I’m gonna need a little more than that,” you joke.

He flicks the end of the cigarette to dispel the ash. Grey specks fall to the damp concrete. When he hands it off to you again, your fingers brush his own. Your skin is much cooler than the humid summer air surrounding you.

“I mean, I used to like parties. I think,” Steve explains, still rather vague, gesturing with wild hands like you’re used to. “Really, I just liked to drink, you know? ‘Cause everyone liked me when I was drunk. I was the popular guy — Mr. Funny, Mr. Cool. But, uh… I guess somewhere down the line, I forgot how to have fun like that.”

“Forgot how to have fun?” you repeat with a sad sort of laugh. Your brows scrunch and your swim with sympathy. The streetlamp casts sharp shadows on his chiseled features, but he still looks at you so soft — eyes sweet with the tenderness he holds there and smiling just the same.

It’s hard to believe that the King of Hawkins High could’ve ever felt anything other than total elation when he had a whole ocean outside his front door on Fairview Lane.

“I think they have a name for that these days, Harrington.”

He laughs and turns to press his shoulder into the brick. He’s facing you now, and it feels much more like he’s looming over you.

You remain against the wall, still a bit overwhelmed by the presence of a boy who never would’ve looked your way a year or more ago. It takes everything in you not to duck away from him completely.

“Well, I was only having fun because I was drunk, right?” he elaborates, brown eyes a golden amber beneath the flickering light. They twinkle looking down at you.

“Sure…” you shrug to humor him.

“And, like, I can deal with the hangovers and everything no problem, you know, but the… The waking up the next morning. The remembering, I guess. Remembering everything I was trying to forget when I was drinking. That’s… That’s the worst part.”

You don’t realize how intently you’re looking at him at first. Every quirk of his rosy mouth, every twitch of his bushy brow, every glint of his chocolate eyes as he divulges a deeply held secret doesn’t go unnoticed by you. Behind all the pretty hair and expensive clothes is a boy much sadder than you could’ve imagined.

Something bigger had done a number on him. Something more than the end of the world.

His upturned gaze returns to you and you realize you haven’t blinked once.

You do a rather shit job of pretending you weren’t just staring. You haphazardly turn away again, handing him the cigarette despite not having put your mouth to it.

“Yeah, I— I get what you mean…”

Your words seem to surprise him. His brows pinch like he was more prepared to be made fun of than empathized. He takes the cig from you with an absentminded hand. It goes quickly forgotten.

“You do?”

“Well, not so much with drinking, but… It happens to me in the morning sometimes,” you shrug, feigning nonchalance, and trying not to seem like it’s a phenomenon you’ve experienced every day for a year and a half. “It’s, like, that split second of bliss right before the grief comes back, right?”

Steve blinks owlishly. Then nods.

“That half a moment where nothing bad’s ever happened to you, and it’s just the sun shining on you before the… the bad shit comes back again. Like it never even left.”

And Steve, who’s never met another person who could so easily understand him and that otherwise indescribable feeling so perfectly, is stunned into silence.

Maybe it’s his fault for keeping it all to himself, like a love letter he can’t bring himself to unfold. It’s entirely likely that he could find a million people in the world who’ve felt all the same feelings he’s garnered over the past couple of years. It still wouldn’t hold the same weight as being understood now — being understood by someone who’s been through the end of the world with him.

Being understood without all the empty words.

“Yeah,” he nods finally, clearing his throat. His cheeks glow red when he realizes he’d forgotten to speak because he was too busy looking at you. “Yeah, exactly— Shit!”

The sides of his fingers sting with a sharp ache. The cig in his hand drops to the ground, half the size of his pinky. There isn’t much left of it now, and that’s why it burns him so. It hits the concrete, more ash than stick. The skin of Steve’s finger blackens as it blazes.

“Oh— Are you okay?” you grimace.

Steve snuffs out the burning cigarette with the toe of his sneaker.

“Yeah, I— I just wasn’t paying attention,” he dismisses with the shake of his head, more so at himself than anything else. It’s the first time he’s had an actual conversation with you, and he’s already embarrassed himself twice. He’ll count himself lucky if you care enough to talk to him again.

“Your go, Scout,” he offers suddenly in a measly attempt to get the attention off of him and his blunder. He wipes the ash from his pointer and middle finger on his jeans. “See if you can out-miserable me.”

You roll your eyes at him, still smiling. “What is this? The trauma olympics?”

“C’mon. I’m kidding,” he assures with a lilt. He reaches out to nudge your arm with his knuckles and, like before, his touch is almost too soft for you to feel it. The act of platonic intimacy takes you momentarily by surprise.

His smile is crooked. His eyes glimmer with honey. “I was kidding,” he repeats.

“It was just that, um— that song,” you answer. It comes out more choked than you expected it to. “They started playing that song.”

Steve’s brows furrow. “What song?” he asks. Not pressing. Only curious.

“That one that… that Eddie played when I…”

“Oh.”

“I used to love that stupid song— I mean, obviously. It sorta saved me from what should’ve been an unavoidable death, so…” You manage to laugh at yourself as you ramble.

Steve can’t find it in himself to do the same.

He’d been terrified when it happened to Max — when the kid he was involuntarily babysitting started to float in midair, nearly succumbing to the curse of a monster that should’ve been make-believe. He was relieved when she fell back down again, but you? He was certain you were a goner.

You were too high up and Eddie’s guitar was too far away. The beginning notes of I Was Made For Lovin’ You were too grim and Vecna’s claws were in too deep. You were too distant, too banished.

For several agonizing seconds, you were destined to remain a stranger to him.

But here you are now, sharing cigarettes and secrets.

Your eyes squeeze shut as you shake your head at yourself. “But, um, anyway. Yeah. It’s just… Sometimes things will happen, you know? Like I’ll— I’ll hear a song or… I’ll see something that reminds me of him— of Eddie. And it’s just like…”

“…Like you’re in the Upside Down again?” Steve finishes gently for you when he sees that you can’t.

You nod, wordlessly for a moment, until the words catch up with you.

“Like nightmares, but when I’m awake,” you force through a closing throat. “And they’re so real. Like… I can— I can hear him. I can hear him talking to me, and I’m— I’m holding him, and I can feel him breathing, you know? He’s still breathing, but—”

You take a staggering breath in. For a moment, Steve’s scared you’re tumbling headfirst into another panic attack.

His attentive eyes flit between your scrunched up face and the trembling hands you hold out in front of you. You’re cradling something that isn’t there anymore. You look down at your palms with a horror that tells him you understand that, too — that the person you used to hold isn’t able to be held anymore.

“I can feel the… the blood. And it’s just… It’s all over me. And I’m losing him. I’m losing him all over again—”

You hiccup a measly sob when your lungs force you to take a breath you didn’t know you were holding. It puts an end to your rambling. You’re grateful enough for it. You’d already said more than you were planning to — more than you thought you’d say in a lifetime.

You think you must sound deranged, talking about a corpse like it’s still a warm body you hold every night.

In some ways, it is.

You sniffle and blink back burning tears. Your smile edges on sincerity. “So, what do you think, Harrington? Did I out-miserable you?”

Steve scoffs in the place of a real laugh. “I didn’t have a dog in that fight, did I? What you went through… I mean, I shouldn’t even be complaining.”

“Hey, c’mon,” you scold gently. “We both went through shit. It was all bad, no matter how you look at it. Just because we didn’t go through the same stuff doesn’t mean what happened to you is any less important.”

You just barely catch his cinnamon eyes going glassy before he turns away from you entirely. His stubbled cheeks blotch with varying shades of pink, glowing with an emotion he can’t keep hidden. He looks down at his dirty sneakers because he can’t bare to look at you now.

Understanding, that’s what this is. Understanding without all the empty words.

It’s still hard for him to believe them, though.

In the grand scheme of things, what happened to him wasn’t so terrible.

He wasn’t under any sort of curse. No one he cared about was irrevocably hurt, either. And he didn’t have to hold someone he loved in his arms while they bled to death — doesn’t have to feel like he’s still holding onto them a year after it all.

Despite the marred scars on his mind and body, Steve convinces himself that he has no reason to be sad — even though that’s not really how sadness works. Grief isn’t the kind of thing you can just will away, but he beats himself up when he can’t — when the heartache wins.

It’s a never-ending cycle. A loop he’s been stuck in since he was seventeen. A portal he was terrified would never close.

Now, at least, it feels sort of possible.

“You shouldn’t talk like that, Scout,” he jokes after the urge to weep has passed. He tilts his head to his shoulder and smiles a crooked grin. “I’m gonna start to think you like me.”

Without missing a beat, you retort: “Please, never ever think that. That would completely shatter my reputation.”

You both laugh with the knowing that it’s all just a joke.

You never had much of a reputation because you spent your whole life being invisible. You liked it best that way because never being seen meant nothing was ever expected of you. You’ll happily take someone you went to school with your entire life never knowing your name than any bogus Hawkins High royalty status any day.

Steve, better known by his title of King, wishes now that he’d taken a page out of your book. He learned the power of invisibility far too late.

“Who woulda thought, huh?” the boy sighs, chocolate eyes turned up to the velvet blue sky. “You and me… being friends.”

You arch a brow at him. “Oh, is that what we are now?”

“Oh, yeah,” Steve scoffs like it’s obvious. “They didn’t tell you? You fight monsters together, and you’re bonded for life.”

“Is that so?”

“Absolutely. I mean, why do you think me and Henderson are so close?”

“So you’re saying you would’ve never been friends if it wasn’t for the end of the world?” you reiterate with a challenging squint.

“That’s almost exactly what I’m saying. Yeah,” he nods with his pink lips jutted softly out. “If none of that shit ever happened, I’d still be that raging douchebag I used to be. My life would be… so much different.”

“Worse?” you press.

He thinks for a moment.

Without the whole end-of-the-world thing, he never would’ve met Dustin. He never would’ve gotten closer to Robin. Nancy never would’ve had a reason to break up with him, and he figures he’d have long settled down with her by now. They’d be that miserable couple that somehow manages to make it.

He’d probably still be friends with Tommy Hagan, too, getting drunk at parties he’s too old to be at. He’d still be the King Steve everyone loved and hating every second of it.

Fighting monster after monster changed him for the better. Even with its horror, how could he ever take that back?

He winces at the realization. “Yeah…”

“So you’d do it all over again?” you ask, dumbfounded.

“I think so, yeah.” Steve’s smile is shy as he ducks his gaze, peering at you through his lashes. “I’m a total idiot, right?”

Your brows pinch together as you shake your head. “No. I don’t think so… Actually, I think the end of the world looks pretty good on you, Harrington.”

He knows you don’t mean it how it sounds. He gets the feeling you’re talking less about his appearance and more about why he’s standing out here in the first place — talking to a girl he’s halfway known all his life whose name he didn’t know until she almost died.

For the same reason — the one that’s brought you to him and this alley — he jokes back: “It looks good on you, too, Scout.”

Again, you laugh with the understanding that you’re joking. For the most part, at least.

You’re both so weathered with grief, looking much older than your years, forced to wear your woe all over. For whatever transformation the trauma might’ve done internally, it hadn’t done anything on the outside than leave scars that won’t fade.

When the laughter subsides, a silence roars to life.

Not a total one. You can still hear the pounding bass from inside The Velvet Lounge and the muddled chatter of people coming in and out of it. It’s not a totally uncomfortable one either, which is far more than you thought you could ever say about talking to Steve The Hair Harrington.

But it’s still sort of heavy in its way. Likely with the idea of what the both of you know and of everything you’ve confessed out loud.

Now that it’s all out in the open, Steve’s got no idea how to move on. How is he supposed to joke around now? How does he say anything but sorry to the girl who holds all her grief in her eyes?

“Hey, Scout?” he calls quietly.

Your leftover grin hasn’t yet faded. “Hm?”

“I’m… I’m really sorry.”

The smile ebbs entirely.

“Why are you apologizing?” you ask with the shake of your head, almost flinching at the sudden condolence. “You didn’t… You’re not the one that killed Eddie.”

“I know. I just… I feel like I should— like I should say it, you know?”

“That’s the worst part about all of this, I think. Like… you lose someone, and no one knows how to talk to you anymore,” you confess, a sad smile hinting at the very corners of your lips — so soft it’s barely there. Your gaze falls to your boots again. “Everyone just feels so sorry for you all the time. All anyone ever wants to do is talk about what happened like I don’t have to think about it enough, you know? It just… It makes it impossible to move on.”

Steve winces. He can’t ever say the right thing. “I’m sorry—”

“Stop apologizing,” you tell him, laughing. “I’m not saying that— I’m just… I’m just saying. I think it’d be easier if I didn’t have to stay here. You know, where everything happened. If I could… Like, if I could just go, I think that maybe I could get better.”

“You could,” Steve affirms with a nod.

Your brows furrow. “Get better?”

“Well, yeah,” he shrugs, amber gaze flitting between your glittering eyes and his dirty sneakers. “And… And leave. You know, if you wanted to.”

The thought alone makes you laugh. “By myself? With no car? Barely any money?”

“You wouldn’t have to go alone,” he promises.

“Yeah?” you scoff, still grinning like it’s all a joke to you. “And who would want to run away with a girl with a broken heart?”

He answers without thinking and with a lopsided smile. “The boy with nothing to lose.”

Your smile fades with the heavy weight of his offer.

It isn’t just about running away. It’s about running away together — two people with nothing in common besides a mutual hatred for a dark wizard from the underworld, ditching a town that hasn’t done shit for them, and pretending like nothing’s ever hurt them.

And at first, you’re shocked. Who wouldn’t be with such an offer thrown at their feet? But then, and more than anything else, you’re confused. Why would Steve want to run away? you think to yourself. Why would he want to run away with you?

When the bolt blue finally dissipates, you’re left with a simmering feeling of disbelief.

Steve shouldn’t want this, and he shouldn’t want it with you.

“You’re drunk,” you conclude, smiling because it’s a joke again.

“Yeah. Maybe,” Steve shrugs with his gaze pointed to the sky. The stars are hidden beneath layers of light and pollution. They’re out there somewhere, but he can’t see them — not from where he is now. He looks back to you, a sheepish smile playing on his pink mouth. “But… I’m not.”

“Would you seriously want to leave?” you squint. With me, you keep to yourself, unsaid.

“I’ve, uh— I’ve been wanting to for a while, actually. Even before all of… this,” he confesses, waving his hand out into the ether. He grins in reminiscence, but not the fond kind. “My dad— he’s just been dogging me about work and college and everything, you know? I think he wants me to be the same big shot business douchebag that he is, and I get it, but…”

You lean closer to him, brows furrowed. “But what?” you press.

Steve exhales a sad laugh. “I really don’t wanna end up like my dad,” he admits — a thought he kept like a thorn in his side finally said out loud. “And I’m scared that, if I stay here, I will.”

“So you’ve just been looking for a way out. All this time?” you wonder aloud. While I thought you were on top of the world, you were wanting out of it.

Steve shrugs, then nods.

“And a girl with nothing to lose?” you joke.

“Yeah,” he chuckles softly to himself. “That, too.”

You turn away from him again, deep in thought. Steve mourns your gaze — its attentiveness more than anything, the way you look at him and seem to understand him without saying a goddamn word. He didn’t think that was possible before now.

You think to yourself for a moment. Mostly because it’s something you know you should think about before you do it.

How will you pay your way? Where will you go? What will you do when you get there?

What will your parents say when they notice you’re gone? How long will it take before they do?

Who’ll feed the stray cats outside the trailer park?

Who’ll leave flowers at Eddie’s grave once a month and clean it when it’s ultimately vandalized by assholes who still think he was a mass murderer sent from Hell to do Satan’s bidding?

There’s a lot of questions you don’t have answers for.

What little you do know, though, you’re certain of.

You know there’s nothing left for you in Hawkins.

You don’t have much family — especially not since Eddie — and your friends aren’t really your friends. Sure, Nancy invites you out from time to time, but she’d never call you to dish about secrets and shared trauma in this way. Sometimes you think they only include you because your boyfriend died, and they all saw what it did to you.

And you also know that there’s nothing holding you back but grief. To absolve yourself from it all, to finally move the fuck on, you’re going to have to leave it all behind. It’s not like you’d be missing much anyway.

You’re still a ghost because you live in a soul-sucking town full of people who only want to talk to you when it’s to remind you that the only person you’ve ever loved is dead.

Nothing has brought you back to life quite like this boy and his secrets and offer to run away.

You think you’d been an idiot to walk away from it. From him.

“Fuck it.”

Steve almost flinches at how feverishly you turn to face him again.

His brows raise to his hairline, honey eyes going wide at the abrupt nature of your sudden reply. “…Fuck it?” he echoes, not nearly as confident as you’d said it — just grateful that you’d said it at all.

For a boy who always expects rejection, your innate acceptance of him and his previously kept secrets makes his chest swell with so much warmth that it’s started to burn him. He can feel his ribcage turning to ash and his heart melting as he speaks.

“Fuck it,” you nod, more serious than he’s ever seen you.

You turn to face him fully, something you’d been too timid to do just minutes ago. You’re more sure now — of him, of this. The proximity between your bodies forces you to tilt your head up to look at him. Similarly, his chin falls to his chest to peer at you.

Tucked away in this alley, you’re made of shadows and shades of gold. The lamplight still flickers over your heads. The brick still shakes with the drumming, muffled bass. You don’t realize until now that you can feel your heart beating again.

“Let’s do it,” you shrug with a blast of hopeful anticipation swelling in your chest, more optimistic than you’ve been in a year. “Nothing to lose, right?”

Steve grins.

“Nothing to lose,” he repeats, reminding himself of the fact when reality starts to set in on him. Even if he fails, even if it all goes wrong and he’s waking up in his childhood bed a week from now, he can’t get any lower than rock bottom. Besides, now he’s got you to fall back on, right?

“Fuck it.”

★。／｜＼。★

#published by bug #steve harrington x reader #stranger things x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #stranger things imagine #steve harrington #stranger things #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfic #yoyok

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fanficsat12am · 2 years

Text

how the brothers and datables reacting to mc who giggles and blushes when reading romance books I Leviathan, Satan & Asmodeus

Request from @dionyjoons: Hello, I was wondering if you could do the brothers (and maybe solomon and simeon) reacting to mc who keeps giggling and blushing when reading romance books please :)

AN: BREAK IS FINALLY NEAR WHICH MEANS I CAN WRITE MORE IN THE FUTURE. IM SO SORRY FOR THE LONG WAIT, SCHOOL HAS LEGIT TAKEN ALL MY TIME. ANYWAYS, HERE'S THE SECOND PART OF THE GIGGLE AND BLUSH HEADCANON THING!! HOPE YOU LIKE IT

📜 𝙼𝙰𝚂𝚃𝙴𝚁𝙻𝙸𝚂𝚃!! 📜 Lucifer & Mammon Beelzebub & Belphegor Solomon & Simeon

Leviathan

Honestly...same. He understands the feeling of admiring “fictional” characters, and he’s undoubtedly no stranger to it. When you started the habit of giggling to yourself while he played his games and blushing at your book, he will admit that a small pang of jealousy was there. He’d start to get pouty and a bit clingy, thinking you'd leave him for a book. He wanted to find out what’s so good about the person and found the time to buy an audiobook of it. When Levi started listening to it, he compared himself with the character every chance he got but slowly realized that he found himself to be very similar to them. You confirmed this when you said “Why do you think I like it so much? Gamer boys are just adorable.” Him? Adorable? He disagrees. He’s just another yucky otaku right? All those doubts fade away though every time he hears your giggles. It’s as if you’re reading all the reasons you loved him in the first place and falling for him once again, and that gives him a sense of comfort.

“What chapter you in, Normie?”

“Oh thirty-seven! The two of them just had a-”

“La la la la la, I don’t want spoilers!”

Satan

He didn’t mind the sound nor was he complaining when your face went red. What he piqued his curiosity though was when you’d hit him on the shoulder when you got giddy. It started off as light smacks which quickly escalated to harsh pushes that almost flew him off his seat. Yet despite all this, he made no comment on it. He was enjoying it in fact, liking the thought of your loving the book that much. He bought a copy of it for himself to see what all the fuss was about. The person in the book was very witty and well versed with the arts, allowing the character to earn Satan’s respect—he even took some notes down. Now every time you giggle and blush, it wasn’t only because of the book, but in fact him making your fantasies into reality. The love interest wrote a poem, no problem. They gave a bouquet of flowers? Done. He’ll happily do it over and over again just to see you a giggling flustered mess.

“You do know you’re indirectly spoiling me the next chapters by doing this, Satan”

“Who said your book’s my only reference? I’ve got a whole wall of romance books and I’m ready to recreate each and every one of them”

Asmodeus

Tell him the gossip, don’t hold back. As soon as he notices you giggling and blushing at a book, he would start interrogating you about the guy like a bestie would ask about your crush. If he’s going to be sharing your heart, the other person has obviously got to be deserving of it and at the same level as the both of you. You’d start telling him about the character and it would end with two people squealing the whole night. Asmo would frequently ask about the book and what happened in it. You’d fawn and cry over the book together.

“I’ve gotta say, you’ve got a great taste in men, Darlin”

“Of course I do. Don’t you think I already knew that when I started dating you?”

“Periodt! Ugh I never doubted you for a second”

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jaegersdevil · 10 months

Text

vodka problems – eren jaeger

Modern!Eren x Fem!Reader

Summary: Sasha and Connie throw a party, and all the exciting things happen at parties! OR in which you and Eren are exes, and it's the first party you both attend after the break-up.

w/c: 5k+

warnings: maybe ooc eren (because idk how to write him yet, yikes), angst, alcohol, dissociating, c-word (3 whole times), swearing, anxiety about the future & love, maybe some errors, and a rushed ending because i had no more ideas. a/n: this isn’t how i thought this would go, but it’s how it turned out so, enjoy.

You were going to kill them. Nothing could sway you from doing so. Sasha Braus was about to be your first victim, and Connie Springer your second. The plan was already brewing in your mind: promise them an all-you-can-eat buffet, take the pair to a warehouse, blindfolded, get them into a position where the method of execution could be performed (you hadn’t thought that far ahead yet), and then strike. Quick and easy, and nobody would be surprised; they couldn’t even be convinced to go in the first place because you’d already said this to their faces.

“Don’t be so dramatic!” Sasha exclaimed, rolling her eyes. You glared at her from your spot on her bed and then at Connie, who sat on the floor against the wall across the room.

Connie laughed manically. “She’s gone insane!”

You shook your head, clenching your fists to stop the slight shaking of your hands. “Guys…”

At the sound of your exasperated tone, Sasha threw a lone throw pillow at Connie’s face, and the pair stopped teasing.

“Listen,” Sasha started, sauntering toward you. “We can’t just… exclude him from our group get-togethers because you broke up.”

It was the truth you had accepted a month ago, yet it was like a thousand needles in your stomach when Sasha said it aloud. You nodded, your gaze finding your hands.

“I’m sure he feels the same right now,” Sasha looked over her shoulder at Connie, who shrugged. The former rolled her eyes again and turned back to you. “Or at least, I hope he does. Asshole.”

“Hey! It’s not like he’s been sleeping around! Eren’s a good guy,” Connie’s face screwed up in an angered expression at the thought that his closest friends were talking wrong about his other friend. “Just because he’s not hung up on this doesn’t make him an asshole!” He stood up, Sasha facing him.

His last comment made your eyes weary. The one thousand needles tripled.

“We know that! But-–” Sasha tilted her head in your direction. “Let girls talk shit, okay? It was a bad situation.”

Connie cringed at the mention of the aftermath of your and Eren’s breakup. “Maybe you’re right.”

“I am right,” She crossed her arms over her chest. “Y/n is allowed to react the way she is because girls can feel emotions without being overdramatic.”

“What about killing us? You said she was being dramatic.”

“I mean, threatening to kill your friends is a little…” Sasha glanced at you. “But everything else! I know what you boys have been saying, and it’s not only hurtful to Y/n but to me! And Mikasa! Girls, in general! Just because Eren moved on so quickly doesn’t mean Y/n has to! She has every right to feel the way she does. I was like this for months when Nic and I broke up!”

“That was a different thing, and you got back together.”

“Besides the point!”

“Sasha?” You pipe up, tired of watching your friends argue over you.

The two twist their heads toward you, forgetting you were there. Sasha’s eyes softened when she saw the dejected look on your face.

“I’m just gonna go,” You wring your fingers. “I’ll see you tonight, though. Yeah?”

Connie opened his mouth to say something, but Sasha elbowed him. “Yes, we will be seeing you tonight. Glad you’re coming.”

You got up from the bed, and Sasha hugged you.

“Bye, Con.”

“Bye,” Connie replied solemnly.

As you left the room, you heard a smack. “Do you ever know when to shut the fuck up, Springer?”

You left their shared apartment—where you would return later.

—

7:29 pm

Hearing the elevator ding, you turned towards the opening doors; the smell of sweat, alcohol, and weed hit you in the face as you exited. Despite Sasha and Connie’s apartment halfway down the hallway, the music and scents spilled out their front door.

You held the bottle of Chardonnay you had brought loosely between your fingers, the effects of the other bottle of wine you had downed before coming hitting you straight on: liquid courage and all that.

You opened the door without knocking and stepped into Sasha and Connie’s apartment. Music made the floor vibrate, which was ignored due to your inebriated and gloomy state.

“Y/n!” Hands on your shoulders, and the familiar ecstatic energy of your best friend drew you out of your daze. “You’re here!”

“I’m here!” You laughed bitterly, although the previous unwanted anxiety and feelings towards tonight were already dissipating.

“Oh jeez, you’re already gone,” Sasha shook her head disapprovingly. “Tch, should’ve kept you here from this morning.”

You disagreed. “No! See, I wouldn’t have brought us a bottle if I stayed here. This is for nobody else.”

Sasha’s grin grew wider. “Thank you!”

You lifted the bottle towards her face, giggling. Sasha snatched the bottle out of your hand as soon as it was close enough and uncapped it, all in one motion.

Your jaw dropped at the sight of the now half-empty bottle in her hands. “Sash!”

She held the bottle out of your reach and grabbed your hand, pulling you into the kitchen. “I think the boys are in Connie’s room, but don’t worry, I won’t take you to them.”

You knew who the boys entailed, and you were beyond grateful.

“Annie, Ymir, and Historia are in the living room, playing some board game. I don’t know who does that at a party, but they’re having fun…” Then she looked behind you. “Oh! Marco,” Sasha pushed you backwards slightly. “Get Y/n a drink. I gotta pee.”

You stumbled back into a tall figure, spinning around to meet your friend. “Marco!”

The freckled boy rubbed the back of his neck and smiled. “Y/n! What would you like?”

You pursed your lips in thought. “Make me a mimosa? Mr. Bartender?”

Marco laughed and reached up to retrieve a glass from the cupboard unit beside you. “Of course, Miss. Any special requests?”

You eyed the Grey Goose on the counter, not thinking twice about your answer. “Hold the vodka, please.”

Marco blanched as he poured sparkling wine into a cup. “Oh, yeah, okay. No problem.”

You folded your lips between your teeth at the awkward air settling between you, and you didn’t think your response through before it slipped out. The music from the living room speakers, paired with the clink of a spoon on glass, was the only sound in the kitchen.

It was no secret what had happened between you and Eren—the entire friend group had been there to witness it, which was the worst part. A party, a few bottles of vodka, and insecurities from both sides were at play that night. It was a recipe for disaster, and it just so happened that you and Eren were the casualties, along with friendships that were becoming more strained as the weeks passed. It didn’t help that you or Eren were often missing from group gatherings when the other was present, but somehow, Sasha had managed to get you in the same apartment as him for a night. It was either a master plan that could save the group or cause it to dismantle completely, and nobody wanted that.

“Here you go,” Marco said, pushing the glass across the counter.

Tears welled in your eyes at his sudden distance. “Thanks, Marc.”

At the sound of your teary voice, his eyes shot toward you. “Hey, hey,” He reached for you, bringing you into his chest. “I’m sorry. No crying tonight, okay? Nobody hates you, I promise. You are as much a part of this group as he is. You are not allowed to leave.”

“Who said I was leaving?” You mumbled into his chest, tears dampening his t-shirt.

“People talk,” He replied, rubbing your back. “And a little Sasha told me you mentioned the group would be better without you.”

You sniffled and laughed, eyes watery. “Can you blame me? Mikasa hasn’t spoken to me in a month, and Armin only says hello when he has to. I can’t keep putting myself through that. I don’t want to lose more friends over this.”

“If I were a nice person who cared about your well-being, I would tell you to leave us ASAP. But since I’m not, I need you to stay, okay? Who else would I make mimosas for at these ‘parties’?”

You laughed and pulled away. “Nobody.”

“Exactly!” Marco exclaimed. “And just you being here tonight tells me you don’t actually want to leave.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“No guessing about it,” Marco stepped back. “You are staying. Now,” He clapped. “Wanna join the losers in the living room for a game of Monopoly?”

You nodded, sipping your drink. Marco would never know the effect his words had on you. No matter what happened with Eren, you had a place in this group. Sure, Sasha had repeatedly told you the same thing, but hearing it from someone else, who didn’t have to say anything, was special. “I would love to.”

—

9:02 pm

After Sasha had joined the game and Historia had won Monopoly (thanks to Ymir, who kept slipping her money under the table), the rest of the boys emerged from Connie’s room, bringing the stench of weed along with them.

“Holy shit! Y/n?” Jean yelled in greeting. The grin on his face was wide, and it caused one to break across your cheeks too.

“Hi, Jeanie,” You laughed, standing up from the couch. You rounded the table to hug him, ignoring the others. You and Jean had always been close, even before you started dating Eren. Not seeing him because you chose to distance yourself proved more hurtful than beneficial.

“Haven’t seen you for ages. How are you?” His voice was soft against your ear, and you tightened your arms around him.

“Been better, but I missed you.”

“We’re here too, you know,” Connie piped up, rolling his eyes.

“I saw you this morning, idiot,” You laughed, Jean joining you as you pulled apart.

You stepped to the right of Jean and scanned the faces of everyone in Connie’s room; Armin, Mikasa, Bertie, Reiner, Eren (sparingly), Connie himself, and—who is she?

A petite brunette girl stood at Eren’s side. Her features were sharp and tinted pink when you met her eyes.

You lifted your hand in a lazy wave and turned back to the couch. Your chest tightened at seeing someone you didn’t know hanging out with your group—were they replacing you already?

Sasha noticed your fidgety hands and grabbed them as you sat next to her. You didn’t look anywhere but at the table.

The room grew tense and awkward.

And when nobody spoke, Eren threw his arms up. “I’m getting a beer. Anyone want one?”

The sound of his voice was cutting. It shredded the weeks of progress you had tried to heal and buried deep into your subconsciousness. You missed his voice.

Your eyes lifted, and when your gaze landed on him, Eren inhaled sharply. “I’ll have one.”

Everybody held their breath as you and Eren exchanged words. They never thought they’d see the day, even if it was to be mean to each other.

Eren’s lip curled. “You sure you don’t want vodka? I heard it’s good for ruining relationships, which you seem great at!”

“Okay! That’s where we end that. Real mature,” Sasha stood abruptly, her hands ripping from yours. “Eren, a word?”

“Would love one, Sasha,” Eren’’s tone was clipped as he stalked back down the hallway.

The brunette girl shifted her weight. You watched her stand awkwardly without Eren there.

You couldn’t move with everyone’s eyes on you. With your muscles frozen, you’re eyes were unblinking as the muffled voices from down the hallway got louder.

“Y/n, right?” A new voice spoke. You lifted your head and saw the new girl walking hesitantly toward you. “I’m Cate.”

Your eyes flickered to Jean, who was holding his breath. A small smile replaced your blank stare as you shook the girl’s hand. You couldn’t hate this girl. No matter what happened between you and Eren, she would never be the target of your anger.

“Nice to meet you.”

Around you, the room started moving normally again. Laughs were heard, and conversation picked back up. After her introduction, Cate scuttered to the kitchen, and you slumped back into the couch.

“Nice to meet you,” Jean teased, flopping down next to you, lifting his leg to put it over your lap.

“Shut the fuck up. What was I meant to say?” You snapped, smacking his knee.

“What you said was fine. Jean’s just being a dick,” Marco said from the other side of you.

“If anything, Eren’s being a dick,” Jean mumbled.

You said nothing. And when Jean was going to start speaking again, a pair of legs stopped in front of you.

The blonde boy looked nervous as he looked down at you. “Hey, Y/n.”

“Hi, Armin. How are you?”

He sighed and smiled. “I’m well. How are you?”

You shrugged one shoulder. “You know…”

Armin nodded and sat on the coffee table in front of you. Your knees hit his as you pouted at him.

“Armin… why haven’t I seen you in biochem?” You asked, giggling as you said your following sentence. “You didn’t drop out, did you?”

Armin gaped at your jab and shook his head. “I’m offended at the thought! I had to change classes. It clashed with my other biology class.”

You smiled understandingly. “I guess I was just hurt you didn’t tell me. I know it can be awkward.”

Armin sighed. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think you’d want to hear from me.”

“I always want to hear from you,” You furrowed your eyebrows. “You’re the only one who listens to my ramblings about everything.”

Jean and Marco went to object, saying anything about how they’d had heard it all for the past few weeks when Armin laughed. “That’s true. Got anything for me right now?”

“And that’s when we leave,” Jean stood, motioning for Marco to do the same. “Bye, guys.”

—

10:39 pm

To say a majority of the group was intoxicated would be an understatement.

Ymir and Historia left an hour ago because Historia was on the verge of passing out. Sasha and Eren had gone to different ends of the apartment a while ago after Sasha yelled at him for half an hour. He hadn’t looked in your direction since he came out of the room.

Eren now sat, with Cate, on the couch, a beer held loosely between his fingers, taking sparse swigs. His eyes were heavy, but his cold facade never wavered. Surrounding him were Bertie, Reiner, Mikasa, Armin, and Annie. They were conversing about the NBA or NFL; you couldn’t remember the topic when you left.

Conversely, you were perched on the counter in the kitchen as Marco, Jean, Connie, and Sasha competed in a ‘who could make the better drink’, with you as the judge. You were beyond tipsy, everything falling from your lips unfiltered, which was good and bad when tasting their beverages.

Your face soured as you swallowed. “Fuck, Jean! That’s disgusting!”

The tall boy cackled, holding his stomach as you tipped the rest of the drink down the sink. “I spent my time on that! You're so ungrateful!”

The rest of the group laughed at your misfortune, pushing various shaped cups and glasses in your direction for you to try.

The laughter soon died when Cate walked into the kitchen. She wore a smile on her face and waved when she noticed everyone’s eyes on her. “Hey, guys. What’re you doing?”

“Best drink competition, wanna play? Y/n’s judging,” Connie asked, his eyes hanging and words slurred.

“Uh, yes! I’ll make mine now. No peeking!” She laughed, picking up a random cup off the opposite counter. You and the others covered your eyes playfully.

“Okay, done,” Cate muttered, handing you a black cup. “Tell me what you think.”

Maybe it was the alcohol playing tricks on you, but when she handed you the cup, the typical mischief you’d encountered in everyone else’s eyes when they gave you their drinks was far less dark and cynical than hers. Cate wore a smirk as Jean did, but it seemed more calculated than his silly one. But your drunk brain was too dismissive to take it to heart. So, you took a sip of her drink.

And when the sharp tang of vodka hit your tongue, you almost vomited. Your lips parted, and your eyes watered at the taste and what it had caused you weeks ago.

“Bitch,” You whispered, yet nobody heard.

The kitchen was silent as Cate stood before you, arms folded over her chest. She leaned closer to you, her mouth next to your ear. “It’s a shame. You’re so pretty but such a cunt. I almost feel bad for the guy. He had to tolerate you for so long. Thanks for letting me have him.”

And as Cate fell back onto her heels, she sighed, like uttering those words filled her with relief.

Sasha instantly recognised the look on your face and gasped. Even in her drunken haze, she had perfect aim. Her palm came in contact with Cate’s cheek before the boys could even react, and you took no notice of what had just happened, gaze unfocused and on the floor.

“Woah!” Connie yelled, placing his glass in the sink to hold back his best friend.

“Sasha, what?” Jean exclaimed, hooking his arms around Cate’s from behind.

And Marco was silent. He stood beside you, taking the cup from your hands and sniffing the liquid. He sighed when he recognised the smell. “Fuck.” He whispered.

“You’re never allowed back into my house! Get out!” Sasha screamed. “Or you’ll finally get to see the crazy bitch you’ve been calling me for a month!”

The commotion had finally caused a reaction from the group in the living room, who were now flooding the space. The music was quiet, which made the scene more tense.

“What the fuck is going on?” Reiner yelled over the arguing, taking notice of Cate in Jean’s arms and Sasha in Connie's.

“Let go of me, Connie!” Sasha cried. She now had tears streaming down her face at the same rate as you.

You were dissociating; Sasha could see it clear as day. Your hands shook, and your eyes were unfocused as you stared at the floor, your body swaying ever so slightly.

“Please, let me go.”

Having heard the plea and sadness in Sasha’s voice, Connie released her. The girl stumbled out of his hold and rushed toward you, helping you off the counter with Marco’s assistance. She ushered you back into the living room and down the hallway to her room.

“Let go of Cate, bro,” Eren snapped, stepping forward to reach her.

Jean threw his friend a glare. “Okay, bro,” Jean laughed bitterly and let go of the brunette.

Nobody in the kitchen said a word except for Marco, who had had enough awkward silences tonight.

“Before you go, Eren, because you tend to do that a lot now, I’d take a good, hard look at who you’re keeping company,” Marco shifted his gaze to Cate, who stood rubbing her arms.

“Me? You think this is my fault? That girl is insane! No wonder you broke up, Ren,” She looked up at Eren.

The other boys, Mikasa and Annie, watched anxiously for Eren’s next move.

—

11:00 pm

Meanwhile, you were in Sasha’s room sipping on a water bottle she handed you. Despite the short time, you were already starting to sober up, both from the shock of what just happened and the granola bar Sasha had forced down your throat after she locked her bedroom door.

“God, I hate her. I tried to keep quiet tonight for Eren’s sake, but I can’t, not after that,” Sasha mumbled. “What did she say to you?”

“Uh,” You bit your bottom lip. “She called me a cunt and thanked me for giving her Eren or something. I don’t know. I zoned out.”

Sasha let out a noise of frustration. “If I could punch Eren, I would. He has some serious nerve bringing her here when he knew you were coming.”

“It’s no big deal. I mean, it’s true,” You said tonelessly. “I did some fucked up stuff to him that night.”

“Firstly, shut up! You’re not a cunt, how are you? You got the courage to come here in the first place, and I’m so proud of you. Just because one girl, who must hate women, said that about you doesn’t mean you are one. It's a reflection of her, not you. And secondly, he said shit too! You’re both in the wrong. Stop taking all the blame.”

“Thanks, Sash.”

“You know what I mean. It’s bullshit. I hate that people took sides; I really do. It makes me feel like our group wasn’t as close as I thought.”

You placed your hand in hers. “I’m sorry for fucking up our friend group.”

Sasha sighed. “You didn’t fuck it up,” her eyes were glassy when she looked at you. “I think it was already fucked up.”

Her statement made you laugh sadly.

But your laugh was cut short by the sound of the front door slamming. You shared a look with Sasha as you heard footsteps approaching the bedroom door.

“That’s probably Jean. Bet Eren left,” Sasha mumbled, squeezing your hand before straightening up from her bed.

And as she opened the door, nothing could prepare you for who was standing there with his fist raised to knock.

“Oh my god,” Sasha groaned. “Have you finally decided to talk to her? All it took was some girl to insult her for you to want to speak with her?”

Every muscle in your body was unmoving. It was like someone had poured ice water over your head. If you hadn’t sobered up from the snack and water before, you definitely had now.

“Sasha, please,” Eren whispered. Even though he towered over Sasha, Eren looked small. He was curled in on himself, shoulders hunched.

“It’s okay, Sash,” You stated, noticing how Eren’s demeanour changed at your words. He looked almost the same as when you were together, ganging up on your friends to tease them lovingly.

“Fine,” Sasha said firmly. Then she brought her finger to Eren’s chest. “But if you make her cry, I will strangle you.”

Eren just nodded, knowing it wasn’t the time to joke around. Sasha side-stepped to let him inside her room before turning around and holding the door handle.

“I will shut this door for privacy only. I don’t want to walk in here later to see you’ve killed each other,” Despite her words, Sasha smiled as she said so.

“Bye, Sash,” You wave, hyperaware of Eren standing a few feet away.

“Yeah, yeah.”

And when the door clicked shut, Eren shifted in his spot. You waited for him to speak, but it never came. You guessed his conversation with Sasha earlier in the night had put him in his place.

“Where do you wanna start?” You asked, choosing to help him sort out his thoughts instead of attacking him immediately.

Eren, seemingly grateful, fidgeted with his hands. “I want to talk about the party first.”

You nodded, looking away from him.

“I wanna start by saying we both had too much to drink that night. I should’ve never tried to find you afterwards; I was just so confused and hurt,” Only then did Eren glance in your direction. You met his eyes and shook your head. “I want to hear your side, but could I say my piece first?”

You nodded, allowing him to continue.

“Thanks,” He sighed with a crooked smile and shook his head softly to rid it. “Anyway, I, uh—that night went downhill so fast. I know they say that drunk words are sober thoughts, I know. But at that moment, I was so angry. I was angry at myself, you, and everyone else at that damn party because I—I couldn't take the questions, and the expectations, and the responsibilities. And you’re right. I am immature because I couldn’t understand why you made that choice, and I still don’t understand why you did. It just hurt me so deeply that I didn’t know how to accept it. I still don’t!"

"I stumbled around all night with that damn bottle of vodka because I knew you liked it, and when I saw you with the same bottle dancing with Sasha, I snapped. I couldn't believe you were having fun after hurting me so badly," Eren paced the floor. “But I can’t move on from you, sweetheart. I really can’t. And tonight,” He sighed deeply. “I don’t know why I brought her here. I guess I just wanted you to hurt as much as I do. But, if I knew she would act like that toward you, I never would've spoken to her in the first place. I’m sorry for that.”

Tears brimmed your lash line as you nodded. Eren remained near the door.

“I—uh, I’m sorry for everything I said too. Yes, you can be immature, but you’re not arrogant or aloof when speaking about serious stuff; you're doing it right now. And I’m sorry for doubting your love for me—in hindsight, it was a shitty thing to say considering…” You trailed off.

Eren stayed silent.

“I literally hung you out to dry in front of everyone, and you're still here trying to make amends with me!" You exclaimed, angry with yourself. "That's like one of the least immature things ever."

You sighed, rubbing your forehead. "That night scared the shit out of me, with all the talk about the future and what we’re going to do when we graduate literally next semester. Eren,” You look up at him. “I don’t have any plan. I’m going to finish my degree, and then what? I don’t want this to end. I don’t want to see my friends once a year because we’re all on different sides of the country, of the world! I want to stay here with the lunatics out there and you.”

The sudden confession made you pause. Eren inhaled sharply, meeting your eyes. You swallowed and continued. “I always wanted to stay with you.”

Neither of you spoke. As you stared at each other, you noticed small things about Eren’s appearance that hadn’t been there the last time you’d seen him: the flyaways near his face were longer, his usual clean-shaven jaw was lightly stubbled, his black t-shirt was tighter around his arms, and the green in his eyes was darker.

Eren broke the silence first. “I just want to know why you said no,” He begged.

You were waiting for this question. Sure, Eren had asked it when you’d first answered his initial question, but now, he deserved an explanation. He hadn’t been angry at your answer, more heartbroken than anything.

“You say you want to stay with me forever, yet you say no at the first real chance to do that.”

You blinked, and tears fell down your cheeks. “I know,” Your voice was strained as you wiped at your eyes. “I’m sorry.”

The bed dipped beside you, and Eren’s thigh pressed against yours. And as you hiccuped, Eren wrapped his arm around your shoulders, letting you lean into him.

“It’s my biggest regret, saying no to you. I couldn't believe you’d actually want me like that.”

“Of course, I want you like that. I want you in every way if you’d let me. But until you say the word, I’m not acting on anything you don’t want me to.”

You lifted your head from his chest and turned toward him. His arm fell from your shoulders, and you took his hands in yours.

“If you asked me again, just know I’d say yes,” You cried. “That night… that night was among the very few when I didn’t believe you were real. There is absolutely no way that someone could love me the way you do. Nobody. I believed I would never be loved like that from a very young age. And it was confusing when you came into my life and told me differently after I'd spent years drilling into my mind that I’d be alone forever.”

“I was terrified that saying yes meant I was falling for some cruel joke,” Eren’s hand hovered over your cheek before you tilted your face to rest in his hand. “But now that you’re still here, still wanting to marry me after I said all those horrible things to you, I know what you feel is true. You’re true.”

Eren laughed, eyes watery as he nodded. “That doesn't make sense. But, yeah, I’m real, and my love for you will always be real.”

"It only took a failed proposal for me to realise what I lost," You cringed, peering over at Eren.

He gave you a pained expression, hand over his chest. "Ouch, at my expense?"

You nodded, dragging your hand over your cheeks. "Unfortunately."

And just like that, the pair of you fell back in sync. Eren wrapped his arms around your shoulders, hugging you close. "I know we still have a lot to talk about, but can we just sit here for now?"

"Yeah," You whispered, circling your arms around his waist.

"I'm sorry for what I said earlier in the living room," Eren muttered.

"It's okay. I was ready to say something mean back before Sasha interrupted. So I'll apologise for the intent."

Eren snorted. "I don't think anything you say to me could stop me from loving you."

"Even when I yell at you for leaving dishes in the sink?"

"Especially then," And then you felt him lick your cheek.

"And he's back," You mumble, wiping the side of your face. "I was starting to miss the weird side of you."

"Not my fault."

"Too soon."

You pulled yourself out of his embrace and composed yourself, wiping under your eyes and shaking your arms.

“Let’s start over,” Sticking your hand out, you sighed. “Hi, I’m Y/n.”

Eren shook his head and clutched your outstretched hand. “Hi, Y/n. I’m Eren. I hope you don’t mind, but I will propose about a month into our inevitable relationship.”

You smiled at him, tears slipping past your lashes again. “And this time, I’ll say yes, Mr Jaeger.”

“Hey, I never told you my last name.”

#eren jaeger #eren jaeger x reader #eren jaeger imagine #eren yaeger x reader #eren yaeger imagine #eren jeager x reader #eren jeager imagines #eren yeager x reader #eren yeager x you #attack on titan imagine #attack on titan x reader #— ann writes!

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