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bleedingoptimism · 5 months

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It’s a little after eleven when Eddie finally manages to get Tarja to bed. It’s hard for her without her plushie. And really, Eddie is very thankful having a hyper-fixation with her toy seems to be the only ‘consequence’ of having divorced parents Tarja seems to have right now. He always worries if having two homes and constantly moving between them is good for her or not. Especially with Tommy being Tarja’s other dad, but against all odds, he’s good to her. So their kid is doing just fine. She’s happy. And if she’s happy, Eddie is happy.

He’s getting ready to open a beer and relax when there’s a knock on the door. He smiles, assuming is Steve bringing Toothless over and almost knocks his beer to the floor when he opens the door.

Steve looks… well he looks amazing, dressed to the nines. Must’ve been date night. But his eyes are red and puffy, his face covered in dark blotches, and his lips are swollen like he’s been biting them too much.

He’s hugging Toothless to his chest and he smiles at Eddie when he sees him, but he looks so sad it breaks his heart.

Eddie throws the beer behind him, sure it will land on the couch and cradles Steve’s face between his hands, “What did that asshole do?

Steve leans into his touch and shuts his eyes for a moment before sighing and stepping away from him, walking inside and sitting on the couch still holding Toothless like a lifeline.

“Nothing, he was just-” Steve shakes his head and chuckles darkly, “He’s just so mean,”

Eddie drops to his knees in front of him and dips his head to look Steve in the eye just like he did that day in the park.

“Break up with him,” he says.

“I can’t.”

“Tommy doesn't deserve you, Steve. You are worth so much more than what that asshole makes you feel. You deserve better. More. Everything,” Eddie pleads, placing his hands on Steve’s knees and squeezing, “If it’s because of Tarja, we’ll figure something out, ok? Lots of people keep in contact with their parent’s significant other after they break up” He rushes, the speech he didn't have quite prepared last week coming out of him in a single breath, “We are friends, right? So you can still visit and see her. Visit me. You don’t have to stop being a part of our lives.”

Steve is staring at him right now like Eddie just gifted him the moon and he’s so beautiful it’s kind of hard for Eddie to keep eye contact, but he squeezes Steve’s knees again to ground himself and does. Steve needs to know he’s very serious about this. About him.

Eyes shining, Steve takes a deep breath and nods slowly, a tear falling down his cheek that Eddie follows with his eyes and watches until it hides under Steve’s v-neck shirt.

“Hey, even I didn’t put up with Tommy's shit for Tarja’s sake and I birthed her,” he jokes awkwardly, trying to make him laugh and feels like doing a little victory dance when Steve snorts cutely,

“Okay,” he hiccups.

“Yeah?” Eddie smiles back at him, relieved.

“Yeah,” Steve sighs, “Fuck Tommy.” And drops back on the couch, looking exhausted, “Can I stay here tonight?” he asks in a whisper, like he’s afraid Eddie will say no. As if.

“Yeah, of course,” Is what he answers, and has half a mind to invite him into his bed but knows it’s a terrible idea. So he lends Steve his favorite flannel pajamas and sets blankets and a pillow on the couch and they say their goodnights.

And if he does a little dance when he closes the door to his room, no one is there to see.

In the morning, Steve stays for breakfast. And attempts to kill Eddie by making his heart explode, cooking it himself from scratch with Tarja’s help, who is so happy she won’t stop running around the kitchen making Toothless fly and sing about ‘happy family breakfast time’.

It’s actually hard to tell if she’s happier to have her plushie back or that Steve is there. Eddie, on the other hand, knows exactly what he’s happiest about. Death by tenderness. Is that a thing? He amuses himself thinking about a couple csi’s with sunglasses saying it,

“He died because he witnessed something too cute,”

“Ah yes, death by fondness. I’ve seen it before.”

After, Eddie walks him to the door and Steve smiles sweetly at him, and holds his hand, squeezing it once before letting go, “Well, see you. I guess,” he says bashfully and there’s a moment there, a second where time stops and Eddie thinks he should kiss him. Wants to kiss him, needs to kiss him.

But he doesn’t. Because Steve is still dating Tommy, and just because he said he was going to break up with him doesn’t mean he wants to start something new with Eddie.

Eddie himself called him his friend for the first time last night for christ sake. ‘Fucking chill’ he thinks to himself.

🧸

And then a week goes by without hearing a word from Steve. But Eddie doesn't hold it against him.

At first, he figures he needs time to think but then he starts to wonder if he really is going to break up with Tommy. Four days in, he gets paranoid about it. Maybe Steve got brainwashed into thinking Eddie is bad for him. Maybe Tommy told him Eddie was putting ideas in his head, that he shouldn’t talk to him anymore… With him telling Steve to break up with his boyfriend and all...

He’s well aware of how manipulative Tommy can be and has seen the way he belittles Steve to keep him around, so he knows it’ll be hard for Steve to actually go through with it.

And he can’t exactly show up at Tommy’s and steal Steve away, no matter how appealing the idea might be. The only thing he can do is just think of Steve, wish him well, and send him strength to do what he needs to do. At the end of the day, it needs to be his decision. His choice.

As Tommy’s week with Tarja approaches he starts getting more and more anxious, wondering if it’ll be Steve or Tommy who picks her up.

When the day finally arrives, and the doorbell rings, Tarja runs to open the door and Eddie peeks his head through the hallway.

“Daddy!” Tarja screams.

“Hey, Tata! You ready?” Tommy says and Eddie steps into the hall to greet him too.

“Not yet!” Tarja chuckles and Tommy smiles at her,

“Okay, go get ready. I’ll wait here,”

Eddie walks to the door and leans on the doorframe, “Hey,”

“Hi. Long time no see,” Tommy says and then adds, “You look great,”

“You don’t,” Eddie answers, because it’s true. He looks like shit. Greasy hair, bags under his eyes, chapped lips, wrinkles on his clothes, “What happened?”

“Steve broke up with me.”

Eddie’s eyes go wide and he smiles, he doesn’t even try to hide it, “He did?”

“Don’t smile, fucker,” Tommy says but there’s no heat behind it. He knows he deserves it.

��Sorry,” Eddie says, not sorry at all.

“Stop,” Tommy whines because Eddie’s smile is actually getting bigger,

“Sorry,” he repeats and then clears his throat, “Did he tell you why?”

“Because I’m a horrible person,” Tommy groans.

“Hey, the first step is to ad-”

“To admit it, yeah, yeah. I know” Tommy interrupts him, groaning again.

Eddie sighs, and punches Tommy’s shoulder lightly, “Look, Tommy, I’m just going to say this because, well… you are pathetic. You need to do better.” And then he points to his back, to where Tarja’s disappeared to get her stuff, “She’s going to grow up and realize you are an awful person and she’s not going to want you in her life. And I’m not going to dissuade her from it, because I already don’t want you to be in mine, you know that, right?”

Tommy looks at him seriously and then nods once, fast and hard. Like he gets it. Like he agrees and is determined to change. And Eddie hopes for Tarja’s sake he is. But knows, deep in his heart, that either way, she’s going to be fine.

“Also, just a heads up. I’m in love with Steve and I’m going to ask him out,” he adds in a rush when he hears Tarja running up behind him.

“You are shitting me,” Tommy whispers, shocked and clenching his teeth.

Eddie laughs, “Nope,” he says, closing his lips loudly around the P.

“Eddie,” Tommy warns him like he’s waiting for Eddie to say he's joking.

“What? I hear he’s single,” Eddie smirks.

“You motherfuc- Hey Tata!” Gathering Tarja in his arms, Tommy drops the subject but he glares at Eddie as he kisses Tarja’s cheek goodbye and murmurs ‘unbelievable’ as he’s leaving. Eddie closes the door and starts laughing at the look on Tommy’s face.

He needs to call Steve.

He tries a couple of times but he doesn’t pick up and he starts worrying Steve might not actually want to talk to him, and then there’s a knock on the door but Eddie, too preoccupied with his anxiety, opens without looking, thinking Tarja forgot something.

When he doesn't hear her, Eddie looks up from his ‘ignored calls’ screen to see nonother than Steve standing there, looking nervous and like a fucking dream with a bouquet of flowers in his hands. A fucking bouquet of flowers. For him. For Eddie. All different shades of red, because he knows is his favorite color.

Eddie just blinks at him a couple of times and Steve flushes even more and drops the hand holding up the flowers, scratches the back of his neck nervously, “This was stupid, the flowers were fucking stupid. They are stupid. I’m stupid, right?”

A laugh bubbles out of Eddie and he grabs him by the scruff of his shirt and pulls him inside. He closes the door once they are both in and slams Steve against it, crushing their lips together. Steve circles his arms around Eddie and holds him close, instantly returning the kiss with fervor.

They kiss as if it were fate. They kiss until it's hard to breathe and Eddie pulls away only to kiss him again, and again, and again.

“Not stupid,” he murmurs between kisses and feels Steve’s smile against his lips.

Eventually, Eddie takes a step back and lets Steve into his home properly, “Hi,” he says cheesily.

“Hi,” Steve says back grinning, then he lifts up the bouquet again, which is now completely ruined by him still holding it strongly while they made out like crazy, and his smile drops,

“Shit,” he pouts cutely, god Eddie wants to eat him. He laughs and takes the flowers anyway, putting them in an empty glass bottle, because he doesn’t own a flower vase, because he’s a normal human being. ‘Who the fuck owns a flower vase?’

“Come here,” he says, holding out both hands for Steve to take and follow him.

Steve takes his hands but doesn't move, instead swings them from side to side, “Wait, let's talk,”

Fuck, yeah. They should. That’s a good idea. Fuck. Damn, Steven Whatever-The-Fuck-Is-His-Middle-Name Harrington and his sensible and very logical choice…

Eddie huffs exaggeratedly making Steve chuckle and redirects them to the couch, where they sit still holding hands, “Alas,” he says dramatically, “You are right, we should talk. I actually wanted to ask you out properly, not debauch you the second you walked through the door. Sorry about that” he lies, not sorry at all, again.

Steve blushes and smiles, drawing little circles with his thumbs on Eddie’s hands, “Yeah me too. I wanna do this right. Ask you out. Go on dates. I think we should take this slow,”

Eddie makes a face and groans at that. He doesn't want to take it slow. He wants Steve to move in right now or something. Steve rolls his eyes amused at his interruption and keeps going,

“I came here to ask you out the right way because I want you to know I’m committed. But we should think about how this will affect Tarja… and Tommy too. We should go out a few times, spend some time alone, and I want you to meet my friends and my parents and I want to meet your friends and your uncle too and just do this properly and-”

Eddie interrupts him with a kiss, he can’t take it anymore, he’s been dying to kiss Steve for months now and he’s so sweet and thoughtful it makes Eddie insane, makes him feel like he needs to ruin him, but in a nice way, like with devotion and love.

Steve lets go of his hands to wrap his arms around Eddie’s waist and hoists him until he’s straddling Steve. Eddie leans his elbows on Steve’s shoulders, and buries his hands in his hair, pulling and messing with it.

“Okay but have you considered having hard, hot, wet sex, and then maybe we do what you said?” He asks panting against Steve’s lips and actually feeling how that punches the air out of him.

He hugs Eddie closer to his chest and whines, “Yeah okay, we can do it your way,” and gets up, lifting Eddie with him as if he were weightless. Eddie squawks and laughs all the way to his room.

🧸

They spend the week together, talking, eating, drinking, laughing and fucking. Except it’s more than that because when Eddie is inside Steve, with his tongue, his fingers, or his strap, it feels like more. It feels like love. Like fate.

Steve, still determined to take things slow, doesn’t stay there all the time, going back to Robin’s where he moved back to after breaking up with Tommy. He actually brings her over one day and the three of them spend the afternoon together. Eddie decides they are going to be best friends immediately because Robin is hilarious and merciless. When Steve gets back the next day he kisses Eddie so good and hard his knees almost give out on him and tells him he has Robin’s seal of approval. Something he knows Tommy never got.

When the week passes Eddie says goodbye theatrically as if they were cross-star lovers in a bad soap opera and Steve chuckles and calls him ridiculous but kisses him so passionately that Eddie drags him right back inside and they say goodbye again a few hours later.

They had decided to wait until Eddie talked to Tarja about her feelings over Tommy’s and Steve’s breakup and whether she still wanted Steve around or not before having him over again.

But when Tarja gets back home she’s gloomy and silent. She hugs Eddie in greeting when she arrives and then spends the rest of the day lying face down on the floor and occasionally sighing loudly, obviously trying to make Eddie ask her what’s wrong.

And really, Eddie shouldn't find it as funny as he does, but he thinks about calling Wayne and telling him he gets it now when Wayne used to tell him he had too much personality.

Eventually, he lies on the floor next to her and asks. Tarja looks at him with big sad eyes and says, “I haven't seen Steve in a million years! And Daddy said he is not his boyfriend anymore! So I’ll never see him again and I miss him”

Eddie coos at her, “I’m sorry you miss him little dragon, but you can totally see him again! Would you like me to call him? Since he’s my friend too?” Already trying to strategize on how to tell her they are more than friends.

Tarja lights up and jumps off the floor and onto Eddie, punching the breath out of him, “Yes! Yes! Call Steve! Steve smiles more when he’s with you than he did with daddy anyway. Why don’t you boyfriend him instead?”

Well… that was easy.

He chuckles and shakes his head, “That’s a great idea sweety, go grab my phone,”

Tarja runs and grabs Eddie’s phone off the table and hands it to him, he doesn’t bother getting off the floor so she kneels beside him listening attentively as he dials Steve’s number.

“Hi, handsome, you talked with Tarja already?” Steve greets him after it rings twice.

“Yeah about that, turns out Tarja talked to me, actually,” he chuckles, “Hi, by the way”

“Hi,” Steve repeats lovingly and laughs, “What do you mean?”

“She had this awesome idea!” he says winking at her and she covers her mouth with her tiny hands to hide her giggles, “That, since you are not with Tommy anymore, you should be my boyfriend instead,” he continues, voice going soft and chuckles when he hears Steve's breathless ‘oh’ on the other side of the line, “Come over?”

“Of course, gimme an hour? I'm with a client” Steve hums and Eddie whispers he’ll give him anything he asks for and hangs up.

An hour later Tarja is still lying on the floor, only now it’s with papers and crayons spread all around her when the doorbell rings. She looks up at Eddie excitedly and he nods at her, “Go on then”

Tarja runs to the door and opens it wide to reveal Steve standing there as beautiful as ever, giving Eddie a deja vu of the first time he saw him.

“Papa Steve!” Tarja yells and jumps up to hug him.

Steve gasps and falls to his knees with her in his arms and looks up at Eddie with shocked wet eyes.

‘So much for taking it slow,’ Eddie thinks with a smirk.

Fin.

☝️first part

☕🥐💕?

#stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #trans eddie munson #kid fic #i wrote something #i keep thinking about #you know how kid memories are weird and warped in your minds #i keep thinking about tarja being very much convinced that she is the one who got them to date just cause she suggested it to eddie #when she's older i mean #like they cannon convince her other wise she soooooo sure cause she perfectly remembers telling eddie to 'boyfriend' steve and that they #were not together before that #steve and robin think its hilarious #eddie hates giving her the credit #dunno if tommy gets a redemption ark but i imagine tarja and him have coffee from time to time and they catch up on their lives.#and tarja rolls her eyes a lot at him but he's not as bad as he used to be #its mostly like 'yeah yeah dad im sure tthings were different in your time sure'

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untitled-gem · 19 days

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i NEED to make a jak and daxter oc

#i remember i wrote this whole fic in first person as a kid where i was this girl named kay who was literally such a mary sue self insert who #followed jak and daxter through the portal in jak 2 and then did missions for krew 😭😭😭#i cant say it wasnt a good time. i think writing jak fic would be fun tbh i just dunno what #also the fic was inspired by something else i read where someone wrote their oc in first person in haven city and idk something about #drug money and shit 😭 def shouldnt have been reading that as a 9 year old but whatever #idk but the world of jak is so cool and it would be cool to make an oc to live in there

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94erz · 1 year

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At this point I think I have to accept we’re not getting anything until Indigo actually comes out or very close to, sometime after the 21st. One part of me has reached the whatever stage while the other part of me is still like, what the fuck?!

Do I get it? Not really. But I haven’t been able to make sense of a lot of shit that’s been happening since the summer. I don’t think they do either given how last minute everything has been.

I hope someone makes a documentary years after BTS disband that does an insane deep dive into them that includes this era because I would be fascinated to know what the game plan was. Since we’ll never know from the company and I don’t see any of the members doing a tell-all. Even though I would live for that, a book or otherwise. Specifically from Namjoon’s perspective ‘cause I think if anyone would write a good book it’d be him.

#Sab talks BTS stuff #like is everything a mess because they (HYBE/BH) were hoping for enlistment exception and the members finally decided fuck it #or is everything a mess because they always knew they wouldn't be exempt and instead the members got burnt out?#and finally decided to temporarily take a break to prioritize the needs of certain members ambitions?#example: Hoseok #who pretty much everyone outed as wanting to take a break the most during FESTA so he could do his own thing #whereas Namjoon was and is clearly the most burnt out in trying to craft BTS' sound #in that he said he didn't know what the group had to say anymore #which frankly he knows exactly what should be spoken about but k-pop isn't for complex topics #hence why the rap line put those more difficult conversations into the lyrics of their solo works #BTS used to have more music with messages and that's when their songs were the best #they need to be bold again versus this cutesy pop that's devoid of any heart soul of thought behind it #because a GP only consumes it like junk food #remember when BTS wrote songs about class inequality? Yeah #and like BTS don't need to tackle topics that would make them hypocritical (since they're all rich AF now)#but there are still important things to create music about #anyway oh look I wrote a whole damn essay in these tags 'cause I dunno if it's worth making a whole post about

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sherwood-cabin · 1 year

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Might post some of my writing stuff here sometime. But I’m gonna run it by my lovely n the SC too. They’ll say their thoughts n maybe I’ll let. The public. See it all. I dunno, writing is it too often for me n I just do it all in big bangs n then fizzle out for a long time

#sherwood talks #poetry’s fun it’s just hard to get ideas down #finally wrote down an idea i’ve had in my head for.#1??? 2 months???#i dunno #was all very. practice-y i can’t remember the word #it’s on the tip of my tongue #eh who cares #i’m gonna sleep now

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stranger-awakening · 2 years

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i actually admire people on here that write their little posts so much. i think the bravest thing you can do on this site is write your little posts. i love to see all your little posts so much

#i used to be someone who wrote their little posts and then a man wrote an essay in my replies for no reason #and i haven't been able to recover since </3 #i would Love to tell you all my thoughts about my little shows and stuff but them i remember that dude and i panic #so if you ever see me making a dumb little post i promise there is 5-10 more in my drafts just like it fgdksf #i dunno just a thought i've been having lately i know i use the phrase 'it haunts me' a lot but genuinely does #jess rants about life

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book-tease · 1 year

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esther is an a absolute awful person and mother, however. she’s also hot as fuck

#mia rambles #mad at her for her hypocrisy while also salivating #mia rewatches tvd #also kol is here! fun!#he is kinda hit or miss depending on who wrote him that episode #bc sometimes he’s extra sexist and im like… taht is not kol #also finn is here which i’m iffy about bc i only remember his characterization from the originals and i did not like him #so i dunno

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devilfic · 6 months

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❝late-bloomer❞

plot: you've never been kissed before. on a completely unrelated note, what if your best friend offered to be your first? pairing: tasm!peter parker x gn!reader. cw: post-tasm 2, gwen stacy mention, angst, self-deprecating thoughts about being undesirable and insecurity in love, best friends to wouldn't you like to know, eventual fluff, attempts at andrew garfield accurate rambling, he definitely talks you through it I mean who said that. words: 4.3k.

a/n: entirely self-indulgent because I wrote this after crying over being a late-bloomer for an hour ahahaha

Peter is reading something for research when you suck in a breath and finally ask, "What was your first kiss like?"

You hear his voice die in his throat. The small whispering of test results and calculations fall short, but you don't dare to look back. You're hunched forward so he won't see the way your eyes burn and brim with tears unshed because if he did, he'd ask about it and then you'd really start crying. Instead, you busy yourself with your phone, idly scrolling as if your question was pure curiosity alone.

You watch his ankles uncross, hear him sit up and then lean against the headboard again, fumbling for your train of thought, "Uh... sticky, 'cause I was six," Peter laughs, "You should know. You're the one who kissed me."

No matter how many times he tells you this, you can't remember the day you'd been so bold as to plant one right on Peter Parker's lips. You felt like you'd remember that, but you'd been such an impulsive child back them. Bolder. Thicker-skinned.

But Peter remembers, and so does Aunt May who swears up and down that she'd caught it on camera ("If only I could find that damned photo album"). You're the only one who doesn't. It's like it never happened, "No, God... no. I mean like your first real kiss."

"Like with tongue?" You hear the humor in his voice and even your sullen mood doesn't stop you from smacking his knee. "I dunno what you're talking about. That kiss was real to me."

"I'm serious, Pete."

He hums. You're so, so tempted to look back and see what he's thinking, but it would give you away too easily. "It was... it was a kiss. I mean, Gwen- you know. You know. I was crazy about her. I didn't think I just... kissed her."

"How did it feel? Do you know?"

"I felt like I needed to do it. I felt like if I didn't, I'd throw up. Not actually, just... like I'd explode with all the feelings I had for her."

Your finger hovers over a tweet. In your wondering about that feeling of almost nearly exploding, you try to picture that rooftop kiss that Peter had relayed to you between classes, with hushed whispers and childish laughter. It was windy, and I was breathless, he'd said, and I wanted to lay myself bare. And I just... pulled her in. Shot a web and swept her up and kissed her. I think I've lost my mind. You remembered pressing your back against the school lockers to cool yourself as you imagined the scene, the steps it took for you to settle the uneasy churn in the pit of your chest. The euphoria and panic upon realizing that your Peter was growing up.

You felt overwhelmed just imagining it. You barely hear Peter ask why you want to know. "No reason. Was just curious."

You think that Peter accepts that as good enough reason because the room is silent again. You keep scrolling, keep taking subtle deep breaths to keep the tears at bay. You see a picture of a couple on your timeline and scroll faster.

A few minutes of peace pass before Peter broaches the subject again, "What about you?"

"Hm?"

"I don't think you've ever told me about your first kiss."

Your shoulders tense. No good effort hides the strain in your voice, "I haven't?"

A beat passes. You glance over your shoulder and see Peter staring right at you, his lips upturned in a small, resting smile, but his eyes are inquiring. He's trying to read you. Perhaps he's just noticed the heavy cloud hanging overhead. "Nope." He pops the "P". He's waiting.

You could lie. You could say it was Flash Thompson who stole it, mention that field trip to the zoo in middle school when he'd sneaked next to you at the peacock exhibit and pestered you about you and Peter. Peter wouldn't question Flash about it. Even if they'd made amends, any conversation about him would send him over the edge with memories of his childhood bully and how much he pitied you for having your first kiss with him. And all of you were far too old now; Flash Thompson had gone to another state to play football the minute he got his diploma. It'd be so inconsequential, such an easy lie.

But the longer it takes you to deliberate on it, the worse it makes you look. You should've offered up an answer easily, jovially, unbothered. It should be inconsequential. Anything more and Peter would call your bluff because he knew you better than you knew yourself sometimes.

At some point, you feel the brush of a lone finger at the base of your spine and it startles you. Peter's slipped his finger under your shirt, stroking along the middle of your back, "I won't laugh. If that's what you're thinking." He says softly.

Of course Peter wouldn't laugh at you. As much as your relationship was teasing, he knew where you were tender.

But it wasn't laughing you worried about.

"I know." You say, in lieu of a real answer. You fear you've given yourself away.

Now there are two fingers stroking your skin, "You don't... you don't have to tell me, if you don't want to," but you can hear the discomfort in his voice when he says it, like the thought that it's something you don't want to tell him concerns him, "it's up to you."

Just lie. Your breath shudders and immediately you regret it. There's no way he hadn't heard that.

Before you can recover, you're feeling the heat of his entire hand on your back now as it slips further up, as he sits up in bed beside you and rests his chin on your shoulder. The closeness of his breath makes you feel claustrophobic all of a sudden, "Hey, hey. I'm sorry. Did I push? I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you."

You struggle to shake your head, but now your eyes are burning again and you don't think you can stop the tears this time, "You didn't." You insist.

"You're crying, bub," he laughs (not mockingly, never mockingly, never when you cry) and reaches a thumb up to brush away the first warm tear, "what's wrong?"

There's a million things you could say. I've never been kissed before, I don't know what it feels like to be longed for like that, I want to be longed for like that, why haven't I been longed for like that? But it all feels so heavy. Peter picks his chin up to kiss your shoulder and that really does it, "It never happened."

Peter's lips still against your skin. Their warmth slowly peels away, though you feel his breath ghost over the curve of your bone, "What hasn't?"

"A kiss. A first kiss, Peter. I've never had one."

"That's..." Peter sounds almost shocked, disbelieving. He never picks up that thought.

You turn your head away and toss your phone onto the bed, no longer interested in pretending you could distract yourself with anything else. You try to shrug your shoulder out from underneath Peter's mouth but he's quick, the hand at your back locking around you and you can't escape him even though you want to, even though you need to get away from his sweet smile and lovely heartbeat that thuds a little faster against your side.

It was already so much to tell him you hadn't had your first kiss yet, to admit to your best friend who—despite popular Midtown High opinion—has always been so irresistible to lovers, that you haven't gone as far as something so... simple. Something teenagers running your old stomping grounds have probably experienced ten times over by now. You don't think you can handle his pity too, "Peter, please."

"There's nothing wrong with that. Nothing at all. Everyone moves at their own pace."

You hiss through your teeth. You don't mean to, but the spite overwhelms you like red hot heat for a minute, "It's easy to say that when you've done it already."

You catch Peter's eye and immediately regret it. His untamed brows are drawn together, expression more analyzing than pitying. Even though you're brimming with feelings, he seems as if he's trying to wade through them, search for the gnarled root at the center of it all.

Then, and he says this so carefully that the meaning takes a moment to catch up with you, "There's nothing wrong with you."

It's the sincerity that does it. You shove his hand off of you, jerk away from him in a scramble to stand, but Peter is fast and lithe and he's always been two steps ahead of you even before the bite. He's up on his feet before even you are, coming to stand in your way when you go to grab for your bag, "Peter, move."

"Look, can we... can we talk about this?"

"I really don't want to. Move."

"Why are you shutting me out?"

"Because I want to go home. Move."

"Is it because of what I said?"

"Yes!" You blurt, growing frustrated the longer he blocks your path, "yes. Because I'm sick of being told there's nothing wrong with me when clearly..." Your voice tapers off, afraid to give him the reason he needs to worry about you, "Please. I'm just tired. It'll go away on its own, it always does, I just can't be here right now."

The standoff between you two lingers, feels like you might have to fight him just to escape. It takes everything in you just to keep eye contact with him and not burst into tears.

Peter clearly doesn't want to let you go. You can see that genius brain of his running every possible scenario in his mind in which he convinces you to stay, cry it out, leave happier than you came. None of them come soon enough. You brush past him when he realizes he's got nothing, and even the hand that grabs for you is halfhearted, shrugged off with little force.

"I'll see you later, Pete."

You let his front door shut on its own.

It hasn't been great.

What typically took a few hours to shake off had settled over you like a dark cloud ever since you'd stormed out of Peter's place. Even though you texted him like everything was fine (and dodged any phone calls so he wouldn't hear the truth with those freakishly good best friend senses of his), you had yet to see him again. Had yet to let yourself be seen.

You told yourself that it was just you missing Peter, and you believed that to be true, but you also believed that when he looked you in the eye and told you "there's nothing wrong with you", you hadn't been prepared for the nakedness of it all. He'd dug deep, right to the source. That kind of thing was hard to move past.

So you avoided him. If he came by your place, you pretended you weren't home. If he showed up at your work to take you to coffee, you lied and told him you had plans with a coworker. It had been several days now and you felt more and more cowardly by the minute.

It was Peter. Of all people, it was Peter. Your best friend. You could tell him anything (most things, some kept a little closer to the heart). You should be able to.

And it was silly. Being embarrassed about not kissing anyone. Plenty of people were in the same boat as you and they didn't ice their best friend out about it.

Ugh, now you were just making yourself feel worse.

You'd had enough. You'd end this pity party today. As you make your way through your apartment door, you promise yourself that after you've showered, after you've made yourself a filling dinner, after you've settled into bed, you'd call Peter and ask him to meet for pizza this weekend. You'd talk like civil adults who understand that life isn't a race. You'd share your couch, laugh about the whole thing, and maybe, just maybe, the hollowness in your chest that longed for someone's desire to fill it would finally-

He's sitting in your kitchen.

Legs dangling off the island, mask rolled up to his nose, and a spoon clattering out of his mouth and into a bowl of ice cream. Your front door shuts gently behind you.

You stare at each other for a few seconds. Then you glance through your bedroom door, cracked open just enough for you to see the breeze rustling your curtains. You turn back to Peter, who's cleaning off his bottom lip of raspberry sorbet. "Did you climb through the window? You have a key."

Peter sets the bowl down beside him, shrugs, "You weren't returning my calls."

Your shoulders sag and you drop your things to the floor, "Peter-"

"No, no," you watch him slide off the countertop and bounce over to you, and the nearness you aren't prepared for makes you back away an inch or two, "No Peter. I'm not Peter. I'm Spider-Man. See?" He gestures to the suit.

You reach your hand up and pinch his exposed cheek, then narrowly avoid his teeth before he tries to nip you, "I'm not in the mood. I said I'd call you later, I'm just... busy."

"Busy avoiding your best friend."

You can feel him trail after you as you walk away, beginning to undress. He catches your coat when you throw it toward the couch and hangs it up all neat on a hook. He kicks your shoes to a wall and tugs your belt from your fingertips once you've undone it. Then, unexpectedly, he hooks said belt around your waist and yanks you back to face him.

The momentum throws you fully into his chest but he's sturdy, unmoving as you grip his shoulders and give him the most hostile look you can muster. You attempt to wiggle out of the trap but he pulls the belt tighter, forcing you closer, and then you start to panic as the space between you both disappears, "I haven't been avoiding you, I just needed space." You quickly explain.

"And I get that," he admits, "but you scared me. I've never seen you like that before. Not with me. Not ever."

Of course he hadn't. It was why you kept all of this a secret in the first place. Because you knew he'd worry, and you knew that there would be nothing he could do to fix it. Not like he usually could.

"It was a... brief lapse in self-esteem. That's all. You're making it into a bigger deal than it should be."

"It's not a big deal?"

"No! That's what I keep trying to tell you."

"So it doesn't matter at all."

"Correct."

"Right."

"It's just an arbitrary milestone that means nothing." You grip the leather of your belt but you're nothing against his superhuman strength. Pleading with your eyes, you do your best not to slip back into that vulnerable place all over again. Peter made you feel safe to do that. Way too safe to do that. "I promise. I'm not avoiding you."

You get sick of staring into the whites of his mask and so you grab the edge of it and pull it up to his hairline, little tufts of curls poking out as his face is fully revealed to you. You stare into those sharp, probing eyes of his, forcing yourself to stand the test of Peter Parker's perception.

Suddenly, you're released.

You stumble back a bit, the belt clanking against the floor, as Peter throws his arms up in defeat, "Alright, alright. I get it. I should've let you breathe the other night. I was just worried, is all."

You smile, "And I appreciate that."

Peter quickly glances at you and then away, making an exaggerated show of kicking imaginary dust off the floor. "First kisses really mean nothing then, huh?"

"Zilch. Nada."

"So... doesn't matter when it is, who it is..."

You watch him carefully, "If this is about when we were six-"

"No, no, I know that didn't count. You don't even remember it," his face contorts in a wince, "I was just thinking. Something."

Your eyes narrow, "Uh-huh."

"Well, I mean, is that why? Because you don't remember it? Or... is it because it was me?"

"The kiss?" Peter blows a raspberry, looking more bashful by the second, and nods without looking at you. "It's... it's because we were six. And we didn't know what we were doing. I was just mimicking what we saw. We didn't know anything."

"And now we do."

"Yeah. What are you getting at, Pete?"

He sits on the back of your couch and kicks his feet out in front of him. "If all that matters is that we both know what we're doing, and a first kiss is just a meaningless milestone to you, then I thought that maybe we could give it another go. You know. So when a real kiss comes along that actually means something, you'll have an idea of how it's supposed to go."

You're six years old again.

You and Peter Parker are sitting in the dirt, mouths covered in sticky ice cream that the summer sun melted right up. You're both talking about Flash Thompson's trip to Florida and the hilarious sunburn he came back with when you spot an elderly couple across the park, pressing their mouths together over and over.

You're looking over at Peter and asking about it, sure it couldn't possibly feel good, and he's telling you that when Uncle Ben kisses May good morning in the kitchen he always looks away because it's gross.

And you're thinking... you start thinking something.

You're thinking it would be funny—that Peter would hate you for it, but you're just so curious—and you're pressing your lips to his so quickly that he doesn't get a chance to pull back before you're giggling in the grass. And May's voice flutters in the background, a shrill and delighted, "I caught that!" that makes you both turn tail and run toward the swings.

Peter's still staring at you, waiting.

Part of you feels like it's pity. Like he doesn't want you to feel bad about yourself. Like he doesn't know how else to fix it, because he has to fix it. He has to fix everything. He has to be your hero.

But the other part? A restless and selfish part wants to take it; it's curious.

You take a step forward, the two of you watching each other, waiting to see if the other might back out at the last second. He stays exactly where he is, legs parting slowly, and the silent invitation makes you feel hot under the collar.

When you're standing between them, you feel his knees bump your legs on either side, his hands planted firmly into the couch cushions. You notice the grip he has on them, "Are you sure?" You pause.

Peter tilts his head in that strange, spider-like way. As if he cannot fathom why would you ask such a thing, "Of course. I'm the one who offered."

Your hands shake as they consider where to put themselves, and you get about halfway to his shoulders before he takes them and places them on either side of his face, mumbling something about how it might help you feel more in control, quell your nerves a bit.

Peter's cheeks feel so warm in your hands, and you can feel each swallow he makes the longer you take in his expression. "Should... I move in first? Or..."

He laughs, short and high-pitched, "I guess I can go first."

You know you're supposed to close your eyes, but as he comes in close, you can't help but keep them lidded, taking in every twitch of his mouth as he inclines his neck, shuts his eyes, and kisses you.

Your brain reacts a half-second after his lips touch yours. You've probably stopped breathing, and you have to force your lips to unstiffen so that you could actually feel him. His lips are a little wet—he'd been rolling his bottom lip between his teeth since he'd sat down—and they taste faintly of raspberry. They're not cold though, and the feeling isn't unpleasant.

You don't know how to react to it, don't know if you should move or not, and so instead you curl your fingers into the silk of his nape and wait for the pounding in your chest to stop.

You feel him mouth at your bottom lip just once, and then pull back. "How'd that feel?"

You recall the sensations that went through your brain (all that it can recall anyway, when Peter's looking at you like that), "Slimy...?"

Peter's face falls, and then he bursts into laughter, shakes with the force of it, and drops his head on your shoulder. "There's got to be a better word than that."

"I don't know! I was just thinking about the feeling."

"I don't want to know what it felt like, I want to know how it made you feel. Did you like it? Hate it?"

"I don't know. I'm- I'm nervous."

"Hey, that's okay," his hand rubs your hip, warming the skin there, and you find yourself leaning into it for comfort, "everyone is their first time."

Peter is so, so gentle. Your heart feels like it might give out, but a little less now that it's over and he's not looking at you in disgust. You don't know what you expected, but... this was better. By far. That part of you that felt selfish takes over again, "Can we try again?"

His eyes widen a bit, but he's immediately nodding, "Okay. Yeah. Okay. We can try as- as many times as you want."

You nearly choke on your spit. "Can we?" Your voice comes out a meek whisper.

Peter nods. He brings his legs in so that he's sitting properly now. "Of course. You wanna move me? I can sit somewhere else. Or you can sit if you want."

"No, I like you here," you say, feeling your stomach tighten when his thighs lock against your legs, "um. Is there anything I can work on? How did I feel?"

"Warm. Soft. Just try to loosen up, alright?"

You force yourself to release the tension in your body and move in first this time. Images of rom-com kisses flood your brain, how you memorized their rhythms and the placement of their mouths. You try your best to mimic it, make it feel as good as it seemed to look, when you feel one of Peter's hands slip behind your head and angle you away just a hair, "You're tensing up," he warns, making you pause, "it doesn't have to be perfect. It's just you and me. Breathe for me, okay? Turn your brain off."

You feel your stomach flip a bit, and nod along mindlessly. You try again.

This time, it feels a little different. Not wet or stiff, even if it is still awkward. It almost overwhelms you when, as you're mouthing at Peter's lip, he returns the favor, but you keep your brain empty. You can't focus on the details because it won't feel right. You can't focus on the way it looks because it won't feel right.

So you focus on Peter. You focus on the hand on your hip drawing you closer and the hand on your neck rubbing circles into the knot there. You focus on the feeling of his suit under your pinkies. You focus on the small hum he makes when, with quite a bit of building up to it, you pass your tongue over his.

Almost as soon as you do it, you pull back. Peter is flushed and it makes the beauty marks on his skin stand out more. His eyelashes flutter, a half-smile on his lips that are kissed red. By you.

You open your mouth to ask but he beats you to it, "I think you've got it now... yeah. Definitely." You're so relieved you sigh, sagging away from him, but he catches your hands before they can can leave his face completely and holds them in his lap. You don't dare move them. "How about you? Did you like it?"

You nod, speechless.

Peter laughs and squeezes your hands in his, "Okay, good. Good. I love you, you know? I know it doesn't... replace what you're looking for, but you're wonderful. You're insane and funny and stunning and there's nothing wrong... you know? You're perfect. Take it from your loser best friend who had to get bit by a radioactive spider to get to first base."

You snort, "I mean, if that's all it takes..."

Peter shakes his head and stands, but his hand remains on your neck as you follow his eyes to his full height, "So, we good? No more ignoring me?" You bite your lip, nodding your head. Peter smiles. "Good, cause I'm starving and I need you to split a pizza with me."

"You just polished off a tub of ice cream and you're still hungry?"

"I'm a growing spider, honey. And I missed you." Without warning, the hand on your hip hooks around your back and hoists you into his body, throwing you off balance once more, "I'll swing us there and cover cheese sticks too. Sound good?"

You know you don't have much room to argue when he's being so generous. And not when he's beaming at you, so genuinely relieved to have you back that it would knock you off your feet if he wasn't holding you up.

He was right; this wouldn't replace what you were looking for, but it gets pretty damn close. Closer than you expected, actually. But it's just the adrenaline. This didn't change anything.

Did it? You stare up at Peter.

"We can try as many times as you want."

You might have a very different problem than you started with.

taglist: @yikes-buddy @alexxavicry @theclassicvinyldragon @marina-and-the-memes

#peter parker x reader #peter parker scenarios #peter parker imagines #peter parker fic #peter parker fluff #peter parker angst #peter parker #spiderman x reader #spiderman scenarios #spiderman imagines #spiderman fic #spiderman fluff #spiderman angst #andrew garfield #spider-man #marvel #mjwrites #tasm

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inbarfink · 7 months

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Okay, so I already wrote a bunch of stuff about how that scene, although it is really sweet, is also kind of a Bad Sign for Simon - how he refuses to learn the Obvious Lesson from the Winterworld adventure (that being the Ice King again is probably a really really bad idea). But I want to talk about it also a little more about what it means for Fionna’s character as well.

Because while sitting around and wallowing in self-loathing is probably bad for Fionna, especially after being told that she shouldn't be allowed to exist, and Simon is right to try and get her out of her funk. It's also still worthwhile for Fionna to have some introspection about the Consequences of Her Actions. Because she and Cake really did not consider them at all at first. They have a sense of morality and an instinct towards heroism, but they also tend to kinda forget the fantastical worlds they visit don’t exist entirely for their fantasy and have kind of a Protagonist-Centered-Morality fallacy.

Most obviously you can see it in the market in Ooo. How Cake, in her excitement, damaged and hurt and even killed

A bunch of innocent marketgoers without even noticing. And then Fionna immediately jumped to Cake’s defense against these ‘weirdos’, who were actually just normal kinda-righteously-angry Oooian citizens.

It’s actually very similar to the whole Winterworld situation. Fionna’s assumption that she’s automatically the hero and protagonist of the story and black-and-white view of the situation and her tendency to kick ass first and ask questions later meant that she just recklessly injured a lot of innocent people.

(It might’ve been worse actually cause at least in Winterworld she was at least manipulated by an evil Wizard)

Fionna and Cake clearly have a great potential for heroism, but they do need to be a bit more considerate of the situation and people around them. And it does make sense considering that from their perspective - they’ve been living a very ordinary life up until now (and Cake was literally an animal. A very clever animal, but still not bound by the same standards of morality as the talking animals in Ooo). Action and adventure and fantasy stuff has been purely the realm of daydream and video games for them - and Fionna literally speaks about it in these terms.

(also, Fionna's Main Character Syndrome was undoubtedly validated when God literally told her that she was created to be the main character of her universe)

So yeah, it takes them some time to really process how to be heroes - they need to grapple with questions that Finn and Jake already kinda dealt with seventeen years ago. And actually a lot of those; how to resolve a situation without necessarily using violence, when does a 'villain' actually deserve sympathy and kindness, the importance of the larger context of any given conflict... their confrontations with Ice King all played a big part in that. It was never just him, but he was still a very major part.

And for Fionna and Cake right now, learning these lessons require some amount of personal introspection. So while it was a sweet attempt at comforting, I dunno if Simon’s little ‘the only problem with that universe is that this Alternative Me was terrible because he didn’t even acknowledge or remember Betty as the love of our life and the light of my entire universe’ thing is actually Good.

I’m not quite sure Simon is the best person to teach Fionna and Cake heroism 101, because he is so focused on the Crown Quest as the thing that brings back Meaning to his life, and because his fatherly instincts just kinda go “Sad Young Person???? MUST GIVE COMFORT!” and also on account of the kidnapping.

I’m sure Fionna is going to become the heroine she dreams about eventually, it’s just going to be a bumpy ride. The best we can hope for is that they accept Simon’s comfort, that she doesn't start believing that she is nothing but an Error for the entire universe like the Scarab claims, but don’t necessarily listen to all of Simon's his words either.

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tinandabin · 3 months

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SAGAU but the the reader is the ACTUAL creator

Thorny love: part 5

Previous part: part 4

a/n: am I back from the dead? I dunno, but yesterday night I felt like writing and wrote another part. so, I decided to publish it here also!

________

"Yo-Your Grace... You are finally here.." Ei spoke, her eyes wide and her legs shaking a bit. It almost looked like she was gonna cry. However, her face hardened up as soon as more people started gathering around you and her. Perhaps, you were the only one to catch a glimpse of her expression. She is an Archon, she too has a reputation to uphold in Inazuma, after all. "Hello, Ei. How have you been?" You smiled at her, hand going up to ruffle her hair. Revelyn still hadn't let go of your robe, her hold on it tightened a bit.

Ei's breath hitched as soon as your hand messed with her hair. "I'm..." She tried to find the right words to express her feelings, but she couldn't. How can she explain that she felt as if a part of her had been torn from her when you left her? It felt as if...she had been plunged into never-ending despair and loneliness. She missed you, very dearly. The place where her heart should have been, felt strangely empty without your embrace, your smile, your eyes, you.

Your hand retreated soon enough, "You don't have to answer, Ei." You gently told her, sensing her inner turmoil. It hurt you to leave your creations suffering and in agony, it truly did so. But some actions are sadly enough, necessary.

Ei smiled and nodded, hand coming to hold yours when she saw another hand grasping your robe. Immediately, she looked at the culprit only to see the face of the impostor. How dare she even show her face here after all she did? The thought made her scoff. She not only deceived the Archons but even you. The nerve of some people.. And now she acts all angelic and needy when you show up? But of course, Ei won't say anything. Not in front of you.

"And who might be the coward behind you, Your Grace?" Ei gestured towards Revelyn behind you. You smiled beamingly, gently prying Revelyn from behind you. "Oh, come now, Ei, you don't remember her?" You asked her innocently, quickly realizing the jab she was throwing towards Revelyn, but brushing it off. You don't wish for an argument to start over here, of all places.

Ei stared at Revelyn for a moment, taking your hint to not taunt her. "I do, Your Grace. How could I not?"

"I'm glad to know so, " You put your hands on Revelyn's shoulder, your touch sending an electrifying shock of pleasure through her body. "Everyone misunderstood Revelyn. She's a very sweet and angelic girl. I'm sure she will fit right back in, hm?"

Revelyn stood awkwardly, clearly wanting to be anywhere but here. She decided to keep up her act of cowardice until you left. "Um.. Hi," Her meek voice spoke up, a slight tremble to it. She batted her eyelashes at Ei, smiling softly. "I'm Revelyn.. Revelyn Aniela. "

The surname struck some nostalgic feeling inside you. You had a brief feeling that perhaps you had heard this somewhere before, that perhaps someone dear to you held the same surname. Someone close to your heart, your mind, your soul- but who? Who was that? You can't recall. Aniela. Aniela. Aniela. So familiar, yet so distinct. Maybe it was simply the name of a friend long gone, you would love to give yourself this benefit of doubt, but you're not the kind of person to do that. You're the Creator for fuck's sake, if you're remembering something, then that must be because it's important! It was of significance, you wouldn't just remember a random surname, right? Right...?

You shook your head, deciding you're indeed giving yourself the benefit of the doubt because you're too old to deal with this detective stuff. Frankly enough, if you think about it more, you'll probably just get a headache. Best to leave it be, now. You'll just ask Seraphina to play detective, like always. You cleared your throat. "So, what are we waiting for? Shall we go?"

Ei nodded right away, grabbing your hand and Intertwining your fingers. "As you wish, Your Grace. "

Revelyn was left behind to catch up.

__________

A few days passed in Inazuma without much commotion. You spent most of the time with Ei, Revelyn of course stuck around so long as you were there. Personally, you were tired of both of them. They need to stop clinging to you like you're their mother. Ei, you understood why she clinged to you, considering she didn't see you for months on end, but Revelyn, who lived with you for like... the past month, it wasn't very understandable. Lile be for real, Revelyn. You not tired yet? Like. Girl. Stop embarrassing yourself and get some self respect and go where you're actually wanted.

So, for both your sanity and their's (Lie), you decided to leave both of them together to socialize and become the best of best friends. (Lie. You just wanted time to yourself and wanted to meet Yae Miko.) Of course, you were, for the first time, surprised to see both Ei and Revelyn unite together. Merely for the purpose of notetting you leave but hey, progress! They atleast united for a common goal, no matter how troublesome that may be for you.

Their combined forces weren't enough to deter you, in the end, you won and they were forced to talk to each other or sulk together, or maybe, a rare possibility, but have a heated make-out session. Who knows. Whatever works, works. They're on their own now and you're on your own, to meet Yae Miko and have a heated make-out session with her perhaps. It won't happen, maybe, but the thought is entertaining though. You're like, 93% certain Miko would agree if you asked. It's not like she hasn't suggested that before. Ah, enough thoughts. You're here.

"Good grace, it's such a heavy task to climb these hills to just be graced by your presence, Miko, " You let out a whine, leaning against one of thr shrine. "You should know my old bones can't hold for long-" A book was placed against your lips and a fluffy, really fluffy and soft, tail caressed your thigh sneakily. "My my, Your Divinity, you ought to know, I don't fancy you saying those words. You look very beautiful, and ravishing, might I add. " Yae Miko said, leaning in close to you with a smirk on her face.

You placed a hand on her wrist, gently removing the book. "I'm happy you think so, but might I say, you look even more delightful, " You replied back with a grin. This flirty playful banter was always your favorite thing to do in Inazuma, apart from watching Revelyn and Ei be at their throats, of course. "Oh please, Your Divinity, you flatter me. But we both know, you're the most beautiful-" You placed a finger on her lips. "Ahhh, shhh. Nothing more to speak of this topic. You can't argue with me on this, you're, of course, the most stunning woman in Inazuma, "

Miko let out an offended gasp, "Inazuma only? Is that my beauty's worth to you, Your Divinity? I'm offended, " She pouted, clearly putting up an act just for you.

"No no, my dear. I meant in whole Teyvat. It would be a crime for me to think your beauty isn't other worldly, "

And this playful banter continued on.

_________

On the other side, Revelyn and Ei were indeed having a heated make-out session. Not the kind you're thinking of.

"Oh, so as soon as my graceful creator leaves, you suddenly drop the act of cowardice?" Ei stared at Revelyn, a cold and unrelenting aura around her.

"Your creator...? Psssh," Revelyn let out a mocking laugh, "Please. Your words are blatantly false!" She glared at Ei, her fists clenching at her sides.

"Shut up, you witch, you casted a spell of sorts on my graceful creator, didn't you? That's why she is completely and utterly fooled by you!"

"Oh? I'll cast a spell on you too and turn you into a monkey if you don't shut up!"

You walked in with a smile. "Guys. I just had a make-out session with Miko-"

________

taglist: taglist: @shizunxie @dearloonies @iruiji @yani-dere @kiraisastay @fauxizs @salvationprodigy @thetruepair @lunalily19 @vvyeislazzy @ihonestlydontknowwhattonamethis @kaveh-is-pretty @plusea @i-have-a-lot-of-ocs @the-real-fandom-person @kunikuzushisbeloved @artwitchh @sadgutaches @irisxiel @atlaincorrect @warcelia @lorkai @muomoii @elakari @burningtyphoonlady @daily-average

@3noa3 @7smexy7diva @5sos-wdw @bre99 @kittieswitheverything @theblueblub @faejvst @ryver8000 @dreamlessnight @bunnyOu @goldenglow149 @callmehnooby

@angelofdarkness2 @anglicascorner

@pinxeajin @avalordream @boycigs @ilovemyhusbandaaravos

a/n: hi! if yr name is cut, then that means I couldn't tag you. if in the next part I won't be able to tag you, then your name will be removed from the taglist. please ask me to tag you again in the LATEST part to be readded to the taglist! thank you (❁´◡`❁)

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chososdiscordkitten · 3 months

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Obsessive!Choso♡ pt 9

pt 8 here

content: stalking (duh.) overdone sick trope 👍🏽, FINALLY something happens Jesus Christ, reader hates school, Choso can't THINK, reader HAS siblings but doesn't consider them family, not so much stalking in this one, more just progression and Choso being cute hehe (a.n) yayyy I finally finished this!!!!! sorry I was bed ridden for three days straight and finally felt the sun on my face yesterday.(depression) I know I indulged a little too much of my thoughts and feelings abt family in this one but I HAD to. Wrote this listening to 'This town- Niall Horan'

Taglist: @eristi @sunaumi @ex-ria @just-pure-trash @kha-0s @iluvreinah @iamboredowo @integers @waytootiredforthisss @1arminsimp @hannas16 @chosowhore @tojicvmslut @ofalcaodacolinablue @thesharkcollector @mochipip @hotvillianapologist @ziklope @saeline @morinuu

Obsessive!Choso who remembered how angry you looked earlier talking to your roommate, almost like you were arguing with them but he didn't know why. You seemed perfectly fine when he asked you if you were ready to go. He looked over at you, basking in the light of the moon. “Can I ask you something?” he blurted, making you look over at him. Bright eyes and a slight sneer on your lips, humming a quiet ‘mhm’ before looking back up to the sky. “What was your roommate telling you?” he asked, making your eyes turn tight, “Before we left- I mean.” he clarified. You didn't bother looking over at him, you kept your eyes on the sky before answering him. “They were telling me how rude I was being. ‘First day back and you're already running off with god knows who’ I think they said.” you repeat what they told you in a sarcastic tone, “Telling me that was sooo unlike me.” you mumbled, being able to feel his stare on your skin.

“I dunno,” you spoke up, knowing he wasn't going to say anything till you expressed your opinion on the topic. “I certainly didnt miss their lengthy lectures or their opinions on my life.” you murmured, hands in your pockets as you hummed. “Lectures?” Choso spoke up, questioning why your roommate was lecturing you. ‘Of all people in the world I refuse to believe they lecture you on your choices.’

“Mhm. They love chastising me for such stupid things. It's like I live with my mother again.” You frowned, looking over at him to see if he had heard what he needed. “And that's a bad thing?” he pinched his eyebrows, “If you grew up the same way I did, you'd never want to see your mother again, let alone live with her.” you laughed, “16 years was more than enough time living with that woman.” You joked, scanning his face and seeing he did not comprehend what you were saying.

Obsessive!Choso who blamed your words on your boozy state, making sure to remember the topic so he could ask you later. Seeing your flushed expression and thinking it was time to get you home, in hopes you’d sleep off whatever they gave you. “C’mon. Let's get you home.” he mumbled, seeing a tinge of disappointment on your face. You hummed, “I'd rather stay here forever.” swishing your torso as you looked up at the moon. It was clear from the tone you took that you were clearly inebriated. But he’d much rather have you here, tipsy and refusing to go home, than with another man who would've just hurt you. “You stay out here any longer and you'll get sick.” He took a step forward. In the state you were in, you had found confidence looming inside you, a small smirk forming at your lips before you looked at him. “I didn't know you cared.” you teased. Eyes half lidded when you saw his face turn bitter. Furrowing his eyebrows and looking at you with a hand placed flat against his chest, almost clutching his pearls. “Of course I care-” serious tone as he saw you try to suppress a laugh.

You sighed with a smile, looking down to your shoes and humming in response. Looking up at him with a hazy smile, “Take me home.” you wirred. The words that fell from your lips made a chill run down his spine, the tone you took didn't help either. Choso only nodded his head quickly before taking a step away from you, suddenly feeling like you were too close. You only raised your eyebrows at him, almost waiting for him to start walking in the direction of your house. He inhaled sharply before turning to take a step, seeing you walk right next to him. Silence. Usually the silence that fell between you two was comfortable, knowing he wasn't a man of many words at times. But this kind of silence made you want to laugh at how awkward it was. Especially anytime your hand brushed against his, he'd flinch away as though you were made of glass.

“You're so strange.” you mumbled with a smile, being able to see the side of his profile as you walked. “Strange?” he asked, looking over to you with his hands in his pockets to keep from touching you. You laughed at the way he said that word, almost like it was the last thing he was expecting to hear from you. You remembered a picture you had seen on instagram. Of a cat looking sad and apologizing for being strange and off putting- which you found hilarious because he looked exactly like that cat right now. “Yes- strange and off putting.” You smiled, mimicking what the photo said. Choso mentally was scolding himself for being that way, not knowing why you were calling him that- but thought there had to be a reason behind it.

Obsessive!Choso who took a few seconds to process what you had said, seeing you look up at the stars as you walked on the sidewalk. “I'm sorry...?” he asked more than stated, making you look at him with a confused smile. “For being ‘strange and off putting’?” he mumbled seeing you not understanding why he was apologizing. You wrapped your hand at the ditch of his elbow with a small laugh, “That's okay. I like you even if you are.” you joked, making Choso feel a warmth flood his cheeks.

Walking across the street and stepping up the small steps of your porch. Seeing the porch light turn on, scanning his face. Noticing his flushed cheeks and blaming it on the weather. “You wanna come in? My roommates won't be home till late.” You smiled, looking at him through your eyelashes with a cheeky smile. Choso widened his eyes at your words, thinking of how forward you were being. Too forward. He nodded his head ‘no’ before speaking. “I think you're a little too tipsy right now.” He grumbled, seeing you disagree with your head. “I'm not- you're just a little blurry right now.” You smiled. Seeing him give you a feigned ‘is that so?’ raising your eyebrows in response. Mouthing a small ‘Okay, okay.’ before turning to unlock your door.

You opened the door to your house before feeling a certain itch in your brain form. “Before you go-” you turned around, the door cracked open with the door knob in your hand. “Do you...” you hesitated, suddenly feeling very embarrassed by what you were thinking. “Do you not like me or something?” You gave a forced smile. Knowing the words you had been thinking for the past few days were finally out in the open. The expression that formed on his face was something you never expected to see from him. He looked like a deer in headlights. Eyes wide and mouth struggling to find words to say to you. “I-” he started, you tilted your head with raised eyebrows waiting for him to say something. “Because I like you, Choso.” you hummed, batting your eyelashes. Hoping that your own words would motivate him to say what you wanted to hear.

The seconds you stood there felt like an eternity- maybe it was. The porch light had turned off from how long he took to answer you. Choso’s head was reeling from the words you told him. ‘As a friend? As a stranger? As something else-’ his mind was racing with questions only you could answer. He mouthed a million words, trying to say something but hesitating before he actually voiced them. “I-” he managed, seeing you part your lips and the shine in your eyes start to dim. “I lo-” he started, catching himself before stuttering. “I like you too.” He shuddered, the feeling of words falling from his lips without permission.

Obsessive!Choso who nodded his head ‘no’ almost in disbelief at what he just said. “Really?” you asked, cheeky smile on your lips, fishing for more words from him. His face showed you everything you needed to see, he looked nervous. It was almost funny, looking horrified yet elated. He only nodded his head yes, seeing you look away from his gaze. “Do you really like me too?” he asked, feeling a frog was in his throat. Heart thumping so hard in his chest he swore you could hear it. Looking up at him through your eyelashes, dim lighting making your eyes sparkle once more. Nodding with a small ‘mhm’. “Even if I'm strange and off putting?” he whispered, feeling hazy as though this was a dream. You gave him a lushy smile, cheeks starting to hurt from how much his words delighted you. “Especially if you're strange and off putting.” You giggled, making him look down at his shoes. Noticing just how close you were to him.

‘This is wrong. I shouldn't be here.’ he thought, looking back up to inspect your features. Taking advantage of how close he was. Even if he knows he’ll feel guilty for it later. ‘I don't deserve to be here with you.’ His gaze was heavy on you, feeling like he was staring into your soul. You exhaled, looking off to the side before speaking, “I've never felt so seen before I met you.” you whispered, feeling like he could see every crack, every secret and every moment of doubt in your life. Even if the plentiful amounts of liquor you had earlier were clouding your judgment. It was the truth, a truth you hadn’t admitted out loud till now. He called your name, making you look back to him with swelling eyes and a wavering smile. “-I see you,” he hummed, the horrified look on his face now gone, looking at you with warm eyes and a softened expression. Calling your name once more, “-I always have.” you furrowed your eyebrows, lip quivering and looking to him with expectant eyes.

“You sure you don't wanna come in?” you grinned, wanting to talk to him surrounded by the warmth of your bedroom. Choso softly nodded his head no, “Another time.” he grinned. Even if he had turned down your offer, you found comfort in knowing that he at least liked you. Choso straightened his posture, looking at you with a toothy grin. “Lock your doors-” he started, half laugh caught in his chest. “Lock your windows, close your curtains.” he lectured, making you smile in response. “I will. I will.” you mumbled, stepping into the doorway and looking at him as you leaned against the door frame.

Sappy smile on your lips as you watched him take a step back, “Goodnight.” he grinned. Looking at you as though this was some shitty rom com from the early 2000. If you paid any more attention, you'd see his pupils in the shape of tiny hearts, hands in his pockets as the porch creaked beneath his heavy boots. “Goodnight Choso.” You hummed, waiting till he turned around to walk away. Making note that he looked back once at you when he was at the bottom of the stairs, and once more when he was walking on the sidewalk before closing the door. You found it sweet he looked back twice at you, if only you knew he kept looking to see if you closed the door so he could stand in the spot he usually stood at to watch your house. To watch you.

Obsessive!Choso waited to make sure your roommate got home before he left you alone. To make sure they didn't bring back one of their ‘friends’ with them. Not trusting your roommate or their shitty friends. But his fears were eased when he saw they came back alone, stumbling out of a car and tripping on their own shoes, sure. But thankful they came back alone, especially since they seemed frustrated when they saw the doors were locked. Having to fumble with their unused keys just to get into the house. Thankful that you listened to him, looking up and seeing you did in fact close your curtains. Smiling to himself at how you acted on your promise. Even if you were going to do it already, Choso couldn't help but think you did it just because he told you to.

Making sure to gently lay on his bed when he got home, on the brink of falling asleep before hearing his phone ding. He wanted to ignore it, but thoughts of what if it was you flooded his mind. Picking up his phone a staring at it with squinty eyes, seeing you had sent him a photo. ‘ik its late but i wanted u to know this is what i was referring to btw’ he read, waiting for the photo to load. Seeing it was a very sad cat, ‘oh god did i look like that ?’ he typed, trying his best to sound coherent. ‘yes u did!!! thats why i told u that’ he read hearing your voice in his mind. ‘im sorry if u were sleepin’ you double texted. Making Choso roll over slowly on his bed and hug his pillow with a small blush on his cheeks. ‘i wont lie, i was about to’ he replied, seeing you start to type. ‘ok ok ill let u sleep, text me in the morning ok?’ you asked, your coherence made it clear to Choso that you probably ate something to soak up what was in your stomach. ‘ok’ he sent, typing with one eye open, ‘goodnight :)’ before shutting his phone off and snuggling into his pillow pretending it was you.

Obsessive!Choso who’s assumptions were true, you had finally eaten a sad grilled cheese and had a cup of coffee before your roommate got home. Suddenly regretting every single thing you had confessed to Choso. Worrying you made him uncomfortable or offended him by your slurred words that had no meaning behind them. Even if it was embarrassing recalling all the things you had said to him, you were glad they were said. Knowing that if you hadn't found the confidence to tell him, those words probably wouldn't have been spoken till you were frustrated with the lack of progress. But now the looming thought of ‘Did he mean he liked me in a friend way, or in another way?’ was heavy. Frustration creep back into your mind, feeling like you haven't made any progress at all.

Sunday was spent in bed for Choso, feeling a little under the weather. Watching the small red dot on his phone move anytime you needed to run an errand for your roommate. It worried you- him feeling ill. Knowing how long he spent outside just to get you home. You tried asking him if you could come over with medicine. But the mere thought of you standing in his apartment, inches away from the shrine he had in his closet. Various photos of you in small frames around his apartment. It made him shiver at the thought. Clearing his throat before assuring you. “I’m fine- I'll be fine.” holding back the itching cough that tickled his throat. He did find it endearing that you would have risked your own health for him. The anxiety just thinking about you coming to see him was 50-50 with the heart aching feeling of actually letting you see him.

There was nothing more Choso wanted than to have you at his side, be it the rising fever or his feelings. But he struggled to deny your attempts to see him, feeling a certain ache in his heart to be doted on. It pained him to say ‘no’ to you, it really did. But he couldn't risk you coming here. Almost crying by picturing you being upset at the things he had stolen from you, telling him he was your stalker the whole time. Monday came like a grade four hurricane. Choso woke up feeling like death came for him in the night, blinking his eyes open and seeing the time. Knowing one of the three classes he had with you started in an hour. If he was being honest, Choso knew he’d get sick eventually. Cold weather and an unheated apartment have never made the greatest combination. What he didn’t expect was to wake up on the day of classes and feel like a victorian child being eaten away by the plague.

Choso dreaded sending you that text. It sounded like a lame excuse, like a lie. ‘im too sick to go to class, im sorry’ he felt like he was failing you in some way that you'd never forgive. But your quick replies of ‘i knew it’ and demanding his address and apartment number made his heart warm. When he didn't reply; you called him. He picked up on the first ring, “I was just about to text you back.” he croaked, his voice raspier than usual. “I sent those texts like 10 minutes ago.” you scolded, hearing him give you a half laugh from his chest. “I fell asleep.” he played coy, smiling as he pressed the phone closer to his ear. “Don't lie!” you smiled, being able to hear him let out a small huff. “I would never lie to you.” he muttered, cozying into his blankets as he closed his eyes. His incoherent words made you smile, telling him to send his address now.

Obsessive!Choso who felt his brain pound in his mind. “No. Go to class. And pay attention.” he mumbled quietly letting his inner thoughts slip, making you sigh dramatically. “I’ll think about it.” you muttered, being able to hear his breathing steadily over the phone. Whispering his name and hearing small heaving. Thinking he probably fell asleep. You sat in your living room contemplating actually going to class. Hearing your roommates leave the house one by one. With a loud sigh you sat up, knowing there wasn't anything you could do unless he gave you an address. Sitting in your intro to humanities class. Knowing this was one of the classes you were to have with Choso, you were fiddling with a pen in frustration. Staring at the screen of your computer as you heard the professor talk on and on.

Something the professor said made you remember Choso had sent you a photo of his courses for that semester. Opening it on your dimmed phone, scanning the photo and seeing the upper corner showed the street name of where he lived. Knowing that there was only one small apartment complex; if you could even call it that, near the campus. And coincidentally it was on the same street that the photo showed. If you were being honest, this made you feel like a stalker. But you were doing it for good, you just wanted to help a friend.

Smiling to yourself before gathering your things mid class. Walking to the grocery store close to your house. Surprisingly, the weather wasn't as bad as it had been the past few days. Today it was surprisingly sunny and not as cold. Picking up any kind of medicine that looked like it would work, not caring what it cost or if it was a name brand. Coming home to an empty house and packing a few things into a duffle bag, ordering an uber to take you to a small restaurant. Picking up a small bowl of chicken soup and riding to his apartment complex. Furrowing your eyebrows when you stood in front of the two story building, knowing that Choso was bed ridden in one of the 8 studio apartments. Suddenly realizing you had just come without warning, you called him.

Hearing the phone ring, and ring, and ring before he picked up. Nasally and hoarse as he mumbled a quiet “Hello?” gaining a small smile from you before you spoke, “Which apartment is yours?” you asked with an obvious smile in your tone. You heard silence before he spoke, “What?” he asked, being able to hear the confusion in his voice. “I said-” you trailed, “Which apartment is yours? I'm outside.” you laughed, hearing silence on his end.

Obsessive!Choso who felt like his whole world would come crashing down if you even stepped into his apartment. Finding a sudden burst of energy and sprinting across his apartment and collecting everything that could look suspicious. Muttering various ‘what do you mean’ and ‘why’ trying to distract you from what he was doing. Finding a black photo box big enough to fit all the things you gave him that he had hidden in his closet. Standing in the middle of his apartment, “H-how was class?” He tried changing the conversation. Hearing you exhale dramatically, “Boring.” you mumbled. His eyes went wide when he found an old vent big enough to fit it in. Hearing you tell him to hurry up while he undid painted over screws with his hands. “No- really it's a mess-” he tried deterring you, only hearing you sigh before shouting at him playfully. “Choso, I don't care! Let me in.” Slipping the box into the vent as quietly as he could, closing the vent and standing up. Quickly scanning his apartment trying to see if he missed anything. “You take any longer and I'll go knocking on every door till you answer.” you teased, hearing him let out a low cough.

“It's on the second floor- number 4.” he exhaled, gulping down as much of the coarseness he had in his voice as he could. Standing against the door as he heard you hand up the phone, not even bothering to check what he looked like as he waited. His heart beating faster and faster as he heard footsteps outside of his door. A small knock before his hand hesitated to reach the door knob. Unlocking the lock and wrapping his hand around the brass knob, turning it slowly. Cracking the door and seeing you, hands full and already beaming. Hearing you gasp, “You look horrible.” You grinned, scanning his state. Disheveled hair, squinty eyes, and cheeks derived from any color, looking paler than normal. He let out a phlegm riddled chuckle, “And you look great.” he smiled, feeling his brain turn to mush by just looking at you.

“Let me innn.” you hummed, knowing he was speaking nonsense. Seeing him nod no while his hand was firm on the doorknob. “No-” he gave you a weak smile, “I'll get you sick.” He scoffed, looking at you through the small crack. “I don't care. Besides-” you gave him a toothy grin. “If you don't let me in your soup’ll get cold.” You hummed, seeing him close his eyes and look to the floor. Looking back up at you with soft eyes, letting go of the doorknob and pushing the door open. Taking a step inside, scanning the four walls of his so-called apartment. Placing the duffle bag on the counter of his small kitchen. “You were right-” you trailed, seeing he didn't have much decor, or really anything on his walls. “It's colder here than it is outside-” you joked, looking over to him and seeing he looked almost bashful.

Obsessive!Choso who heard you unzip the bag before he apologized, “I know- I’m sorry-” seeing you turn to him with a miniscule space heater in your hands. Letting out a small laugh at the way you displayed it between your hands. Seeing him slouched over himself, almost trying his best to stay standing upright. “Go lay down, you look like you'll keel over if you keep standing.” You smiled, unpacking the small tub of soup as he shuffled over to his bed. Sitting down gently as he watched you make yourself comfortable. Turning on the small battery operated heater and hearing him give a pained laugh. You muttered a quiet, ‘Shut up’ as you looked to his kitchen, “Bowls?” you asked, looking over to him watching you on his side.

“In the cupboard above the stove.” he grumbled, seeing you nod and reach up to open the cabinet and seeing a single bowl. “Choso, if I open up one of these drawers am I gonna see just one spoon?” your tone was already accusatory, “Definitely don't open the drawer closest to the microwave then.” he smiled, closing his eyes as he heard you open the drawer with a gasp. Smiling when he heard you stepping to him, placing the glass bowl on his nightstand. “Eat. Then I'll give you medicine.” You demanded. Seeing him open his eyes and look up at you.

You turned around and pulled out the chair that was at his desk, rolling it to face the bed. Humming quietly as you walked back to the kitchen counter. Hearing him shuffle out of bed and sit up against the wall, “I thought you couldn't cook?” he smiled, taking a small sip of the warm soup. “I can’t- if I did cook for you, you'd end up even more sick.” you mumbled, walking back to the chair and sitting on it. Placing the medicine on his side table as he ate. He looked over at you with hazy eyes, “Why didn't you go to class?” he hummed, looking over to you. “I did-” you assured him, “-but I left like 20 minutes in.” you laughed.

Obsessive!Choso who wanted to scold you, nodding his head ‘no’ in disapproval. “Why?” he mumbled, feeling his throat sting. “I kept picturin you all alone, dry heaving in your cold-” you laughed, “- apartment and I felt horrible.” You tilted your head, seeing him stare at you with the bowl in his hands. “Especially since you're always so nice to me-” you hummed, “I thought it was my turn to do something kind.” crossing your ankles and seeing his hazy eyes look at you as though this was the first nice thing anyone had done for him.

“How did you find out where I lived?” he asked, setting the bowl onto his nightstand. You widened your eyes slightly, leaning in closer to him. “I stalked you.” You whispered, seeing his smile fall and scan your face. He mouthed a small ‘What?’ before you leaned back into the chair. “No, in the uh- picture you sent me of your classes this semester-” you grinned, “it had the address in the corner.” you looked at him disapprovingly. “Ah.” he smiled, “Either way- when I feel better I'll find a way to repay you.” He promised, seeing your delicate hands pick up the bottle of cold medicine and shake them in his direction.

Seeing him pop the bottle open and take them dry. “You can pay me back by taking me out.” you whirred. Choso froze up, looking at your face to see if you were being serious or not. You raised your eyebrows when you waited for him to reply, “Well?” you asked, looking at him while blinking slowly. “I can't focus on what I want to say to you right now.” He mumbled, turning away from you and feeling goosebumps form on his arm.

“Don't think about what to say. Just tell me what you think.” You assured, wanting to know what thoughts he hid from you. “I think-” he started, wanting to avoid this conversation in its entirety. Seeing his cheeks flushed as he avoided your gaze, you scooched the rolling chair closer to him. ‘Hmm?’ you hummed, placing your hand atop his that was on the edge of his bed. All but flinching when he felt you. “What do you mean by-” he gulped, looking back at you with pinched eyebrows and shy eyes. His ears burning, mentally blaming it on your tiny heater. “...Take you out?” his eyes showing you how unsure he was asking you that. You gave Choso a small giggle, “You’re a lot less intimidating when you look at me like that.” you teased, seeing him close his eyes at how embarrassed he felt. “I meannn-” you droned on, “Like on a ‘date’ or something.” You leaned back into the chair, making this conversation sound way too casual. “You want me to take you on a date?” he asked, unsure if he heard you correctly. You nodded your head ‘yes’, seeing him think about it. Finding it very difficult to process what you were saying. “...As friends?” he asked quietly, voice hoarse and cheeks pink. You let out a laugh, seeing his expression fall. Settling down a little and looking at him with warm eyes. “You're impossible.” your tone endearing with a smile on your lips.

Obsessive!Choso whose face looked horrified. “No Choso. Not as friends.” You grinned, tightening the grip you had on his hand. The blush roamed down his neck. “I suspected so- b-but I didn't want to assume.” he stammered, reddening cheeks feeling lightheaded by hearing your words. You furrowed your eyebrows, standing from the chair and pressing your hand on his forehead. Leaning over slightly, Choso lightly inhaled, feeling your hand on his face. Pressing the back of your hand to his cheek and humming. “You're warm-” you mumbled, seeing him close his eyes. “It's the heater-” he smiled, lifting his hand and wrapping it around your wrist. Hearing you scoff at his accusation, pulling your hand from his face. Looking into your eyes and blinking up at you.

“Don't blame my heater for your blushing.” You joked, rolling your eyes before sitting down. His hand falling from your wrist as you saw him stumble over his words. “M’not blushing.” he huffed, fiddling with his thumbs. “Sure. Blame it on you being sick.” you teased, seeing him look over at you. Not even bothered by the conversation at hand, treating this as though it was some casual topic. Finally being able to gather his thoughts, ‘You're going to kill me one of these days, you know that?’ he thought to himself, seeing you look rather pleased with how flustered he was.

His thoughts were interrupted by his phone ringing on his night stand. Seeing your eyes look down to see who it was, “Who's ‘Yuuji’ with a heart emoji?” you asked, looking up at him with a perked brow. Picking up his phone and seeing it ring, “My baby brother.” he whispered, clicking the small green button and raising the phone to the ear opposite to the one facing you.

Obsessive!Choso who answered “Hello?”, hearing his brother ask him questions. “No- No i'm better now.” he smiled, looking down to his lap. Strands of his hair falling and blocking your view of his face. “Yes Yuuji, I took medicine already-” he was cut off. Feeling your fingers push the hair from his face behind his ear, pads your fingers grazing his earrings. Looking over at you with a shocked expression before stuttering. “Y-yes I ate-” feeling his blush return. “I-I’m alone-” He stammered, you furrowed your eyebrows. Leaning in closer to hear what his brother was saying, so close the air he inhaled was sweetened by your perfume.

‘You never stutter- who's with you?!’ the voice from his phone asked him, making you smile. Choso tried leaning away from you, only for you to lean on the edge of the bed trying to hear. “My friend is here-” he irked, seeing you give him an offended look. Squinting your eyes as you feigned offense, ‘Friend?’ you gasped quietly. Making Choso nod his head ‘no’ in defense as his brother scolded him for making someone else sick. Even hearing his brother ask, ‘You have friends?!’ with a laugh before he exhaled harshly. “I will call you later Yuuji.” his tone stern and authoritative as you settled back in your chair. Silence in the air as you hear- ‘Tell your lover i say hiii-’ his brother teased before Choso hung up. Your perfume still stuck in the air close to his face.

It was quiet, sure. But you heard him clearly, making note it was the second time; that you knew of, that his brother referred to you as that. He looked over at you hesitatingly, seeing a smug look on your face. “Your brothers must be my biggest fans.” You tease seeing him give a pained laugh, clutching his ribs as he leaned against the wall. “They really are-” he grumbled, seeing you from the corner of his eye. Seeing you hesitate before asking. “You really love your brothers huh.” You asked, Choso turned his head to look at you.

“There aren’t words that could come close to describing how much I love them.” He declared, noticing a hint of sadness in your eyes at his words. “That's really sweet Choso.” You replied, giving him a warm smile. “And you? Do you have any siblings?” he asked, mentally scolding himself for not having asked you that sooner. “I do-” you replied without thinking. “Did- I did.” you nodded. Furrowing his eyebrows, “Did they…pass?” he pressed, not liking the look on your face. Almost like it pained you to speak about this. “Last time I checked? No, they're very much alive. Just not family anymore.” You shrugged, seeing the confusion in his eyes.

“I don't understand.” He blurted, not seeing how that was possible. “They're only a blood relation.” You trailed on, looking down to your hands on your lap. “They were always just random people I lived with.” You slouched your shoulders, “But they're your family.” he mumbled, snapping your head to look up at him. “They've never been a family to me. Not now, and they never will be.” You declared, looking back at him with furrowed eyebrows. Tone more stern as you saw his face, full of pity and sorrow.

Obsessive!Choso who wanted to hear more, asking you- “Older or younger?” hoping to know why you hold such disdain towards them. “Both.” You mumbled, looking at his face. Feeling like he was staring right into the largest crack you had in your heart. Choso took your hand, making you look at him with pinched eyebrows and soft eyes. Running his thumb over your knuckles.

“That's why I think it's so sweet how much you care for your brothers. Mine never cared the way you do.” You grinned, seeing him look at you with a soft smile. Choso couldn't help but feel his chest swell with pride. At being a good older brother, and from receiving a compliment from you. “I'm sorry.” he apologized for nothing, you gave him a prize winning smile. Scoffing before speaking up, “It's fine. I'm fine, I'll live.” You assured. ‘I am still sorry. I'm sorry you weren't cherished the way you should’ve been.’ Choso thought, blinking down to his hand holding yours. Feeling his heart throb in his chest from how much progress he had made with you.

pt 10 here

the past few days I was writing this it felt like it was never ending omg- THANK U FOR READING. I know I took a hot second in writing this- unfortunately life kicked me in the butt. ANYWAYS. im alr writing next part- (lets pretend im not the author of this) EVERYONE CALM DOWN THINGS ARE HAPPENING HEHE

#jjk #choso kamo #choso my beloved #jjk choso #choso x reader #jjk x reader #choso x you #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen choso #sfw jjk #emo choso #college au #non curse au #choso #kamo choso

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your-nanas-house · 28 days

Text

"Mr. Coleman said that..."

◇ Pairing: stepdad!Austin Butler X stepdaughter!Reader

◇ Warnings: kind of dark, SMUT, sessions, therapy (invented by me, dunno if it exists), pervy, stepdad x stepdaughter dynamic.

◇ Summary: Austin gets bit lost in the feelings that the "bond" therapy gifted him.

◇ Note: Sorry for the mistakes and the English. It took me so long, thanks for the kind anon that reminded me what Austin fic I wanted to publish. I think it's the very first Austin fic that I wrote... 🫣.

A small click and the front door of his attic was open, allowing him to enter and finally drop down the bag he carried all day around... plus the new script.

Austin had been out all day and he honestly felt all those hours on his shoulders other than his mood. He really was tired but happy, since he was about to see his little princess.

As his feet lead him to the open kitchen he could already hear her soft humming, which informed him that she was busy entertain herself with something

"Hi stepdaddy, how was your day?" Her sweet voice beamed after his footsteps popped her little bubble of calm. She didn't look upset or annoyed when seeing him... which was a good thing since they had some issues when her mom left them both.

Issues that with a bit of father and daughter therapy should had quickly disappear... or so the man, who was following the process, had told them the first meeting.

"Bit tiring but... it was good. How about yours? What did you do while I was out?" Austin's low raspy voice asked as his hand removed carefully his airports before his coat so that he could focus his attention on her completely.

She was still in her cute pajamas, a silly one that she had begged him to buy her as soon as she finished watching one of the latest movies of his... 'Elvis' 2022. Reason because her pants were of a baby pink filled with pictures of the king, matched by a baggy shirt with the quote 'Keep Calm and Love Elvis Presley'.

"Bit boring, studied a bit... and nothing much, I cleaned the house though" Y/n informed him after taking a big sip of her tea, humming softly when the older man's arms wrapped around her torso.. hugging her close to himself.

"So sweet of you" he murmured in her ear, tickling her with his short beard as his face snuggled in the crock of her neck more so to make her chuckle before pressing his lips against hers for a quick 'hello' kiss.

His head now resting on top of hers calmly.

"Also!.. I need your help" Y/n hummed out, putting down her cup as her heart beat faster in her chest.. butterflies forming in her stomach at her stepdad's cuddles.

She could already feel his chest vibrating softly as he replied with his voice which became even more lower that it used to be due to the time and work.

"With what, kid?" His big hand ruffled her hair playfully while his body moved to rest against the table of the kitchen so that his beautiful eyes could stare at her as she talked.

She really was so cute like that, her hair bit messy because of him and the glasses she put on just when she used her laptop so to protect them. It seemed quite domestic... bit too domestic since his body started to react a bit, aroused by the innocent scenario.

And the cute mad face she made every time he would tease or annoy her, was so cute but also such a strong turn on for him... expecially those pouty pretty lips, now covered by a watermelon lip gloss.

"Do you remember what Mr. Coleman suggested?" Y/n asked casually, glancing at him with the face he grow to know as 'the testing face'; a serious but funny expression that she always used when she wanted to see if he remembered something or if he forgot about it.

"Of what, sweetheart?" Austin replied with her same tone as he put down the script, pouring himself a glass of water before sitting on the counter to look in her direction. She was giving him her back but he could already see the pouty face accompanied by a small snort of disappointment since he didn't remember.

"The bonding exercises, Baba!" She whined out, looking at him while scoffing softly at his amused expression. He really knew her too well.

"Of course I remember, baby" Austin lied as he placed his glass on the surface so he wouldn't look her in the eyes without distractions

"He said at least once a week, two is better though..." she repeated what their therapist said to them some weeks ago, her eyes looking at him lazily bit tired of her lonesome day. Even too tired to notice his stare taking her whole in shamefully.

"You know that I'm always free to spend some quality time with you, baby" he rasped out before clearing his throat and finish his water, his body warming up at the mere view of her cute behaviour.

"That's a lie but anyway... Let's start it, hm" the young woman murmured, pecking back as soon as he leaned down to steal a bit of love while picking her up easily and move them on the sofa in the living room where there was more space.

"What were the exercises again?" Austin asked, his hands rubbing soft circles on her hips while his eyes pierced intensely in hers the whole time she explained to him "The 5 senses exercises to feel more connected. Touch.. with the yoga, hearing.. by listening and talking, taste.. by eating together, and.. view.. the stare".

Those were all topics they had to go through in their therapist's opinion.. a way to bond with each other better and share some quality moments as father... even though he wasn't her real dad, and daughter.

"I remember perfectly now... and what was the last one?" He asked while playing with a lock of her hair, smiling slightly when her index finger pressed against his nose while talking "It's the smell... we have to take in our scent... and that should be all. So!... where do we start?" The young woman beamed, getting up from his lap.

The older man really enjoyed seeing her so full of energy and joy, it was addicting.

"Okay, little one, let's start. You can choose with which one we begin".

Her choose was quickly and he found himself warming slightly up to start the first step. The Touch.. aka Yoga exercises.

Simple but helpful positions they had to do together to feel the struggles and the moving of their bodies.

"Need to change! Mr. Coleman said that we have to be as bare as possible for this one." The young woman reminded the older man from the other room, busy changing into something to start the exercise and have yoga behind so they could relax.

He said that?, Austin questioned in his mind and raised his eyebrows... he really didn't listen so much when that man spoke with them. He clearly needed to stay more focused in the next sessions.

"You need to change as well!" Her sweet voice urged him as she was now standing in front of him in the set of underwear he gifted her that Christmas. Matching bra and panties which colors were identical to her favourite bun that she had used to tie her hair up.

"Sweet baby Jesus above, you are stunning" he commented, holding himself from just cursing in front of her since he scolded her more than once when some bad words left her pretty mouth. It had became a game of theirs just saying some silly things instead of vulgar language.

"It's the set you gave me!" She informed him with a smile, her hands busy fixing her hair happy and warm to start

"I know, little one" the actor murmured while still staring, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed the lump in his throat.

His body was reacting bit too much for his liking and he started to sweat a bit so he decided to get quickly ready and just move his hands to pull off his shirt and threw it away, exposing his built body to the air so that they could begin with the yoga.

Y/n was the first to lead and help, her smaller frame kept doing her best to keep up and help Austin while ending up most of the time just clinging on him like a koala or bouncing to reach his hands.. way too high for her reach.

It was funny, adorable and relaxing... till the sensations changed when he was the one leading the exercise.

"Baba! You have to follow my body" Y/n explained in a whiny playful voice as her young body bent down in front of him, her ass brushing against his crotch and then pressing lovingly when he moved on her, hugging her hips with his strong arms.

Fucking hot, he thought now that his cock overpowered his brain.

His breath became bit heavier while his hands massaged her flesh, he could have stayed like that all day... with his boner pressed between her firm and round ass cheeks still barely covered by those damn panties.

"Ready for the rhythm? Remember sync to let our bodies connect" she parrot what Mr. Coleman told them, making Austin curse internally since he had forgot about the movements... not that he minded though, since his worries disappeared as soon as her ass hit his half-hard dick.

His hips started to follow, taking the lead unconsciously, grinding his clothed cock against her soft flesh shamelessly.

"You got your phone in your pocket, Baba?" Y/n asked after a while, glancing behind to check on him, yelping softly when he moves her head easily by her chin. Making her look back ahead.

"Mhhm... focus, little one. Sync, remember?" Austin rasped out as his hips increased their rhythm, making her loose the balance she had and end up flat against the floor with him on top.

Her heart was beating fast and she couldn't deny that her panties were getting wet by his movements... she wasn't sure it was part of the exercises but who was her to correct her stepdad.

"You're doing so good, baby. So good" his low voice praised, making her maintain the rhythm and match his when his hips increased the tempo as his big hand, which was on her tummy, helped her continue it.

It was starting to get tired, her breath becoming breathless as she heard him grunting next to her ear.

"Austin, I'm not sure this is part of Mr. Coleman's exercises—" Y/n weakly spoke, letting a broken whine escape her mouth when his little finger pressed roughly against her clothed clit

"It's all part of Mr. Coleman's exercises to bond, baby. And call me like he said you should.. don't you want to make the sessions pay off?" Austin murmured huskily, inhaling deeply while lowering quickly his sweatpants and press his bare, rock-hard angry cock against her ass again, pulling the fabric of her panties so that it was stuck between her ass cheeks like his lenght.

"I said call me like Mr. Coleman said, little one" his tone became more stern as his hand spanked her soft flesh making her jolt

"Sorry, daddy! Sorry" she whined out, moving her ass up so to allow him to continue without interruptions... just like a good girl.

It was twisted but felt so good, so... damn good, with the soft skin of his cock caressing her inner thighs as he made sure to keep them closed so that he could fuck them. Hitting her clit with each thrust.

Her stepdad was dry humping her and she was loving it as much as he was... and she could tell that he was enjoying himself pretty much due to all the noises and praises that escaped his lips.

"Such a good girl! Fuck— fuck, fuck. Little one!" His horsed voice growled in her ear as his body shook against hers before something started to wet her thighs and panties. The young woman didn't had time to check before her own orgasm hit her whole and her back arched, a soft curse, which earned her a harsh spank, escaped her innocent sweet mouth.

"Language, baby... now how about we move to the food now, hm?" Austin suggested while massaging her warm flesh, moving his softening cock away from her shaking thighs.

#austin butler fandom #austin butler fanfiction #austin butler fic #austin butler smut #austin butler #austin butler x reader #austin butler x y/n #austin butler x you #austin butler fluff #austin butler imagine

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indouloureux · 1 year

Text

𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐊𝐍𝐈𝐅𝐄

summary: in frenzied expeditions, eddie lets his anger snap and indulges in something... new.

content warnings: ghostface!eddie. character death (no one major), murder, eddie and reader being lovesick psychopaths, kinda shitty writing, gore, graphic depictions of violence. SMUT (18+ MDNI), (a warning that's a spoiler), knife play, blood kink, unprotected sex, creampie, oral (m receiving), ball play, gagging, facefucking, overstimulation, kitchen sex??

a/n: in honor of halloween; idk how to explain this. i hope u guys like it. i wrote it within two days. this was kinda rushed. reblogs and comments are appreciated. thank u my girls @mysticmunson and @lilacletter for beta-reading!!

“Hello?”

“Hi, sweetheart,”

Funny how that baritone dulcetness of a voice was easily recognizable. But it was probably because you’ve heard it in many different ways possible that this experimentation seemed familiar to you. Even with his speech choppy from the static of the RT.

“Hey, Eddie,” RT balanced between your ear and shoulder, you take the popcorn out from the microwave, the hot bowl seethes on your poor fingers but you could care less; the burning feeling felt good. “Where are you?”

“On my way,” his voice is slightly garbled. “Just got held up from the drive thru, babe. Don’t start the film without me,”

“Of course,” you chuckle. “Andy’s right here. He’s, uh, out by the pool smoking. The others are on their way though,”

He spits out an obscenity at what you think is an unforeseen speed bump, then a clutter that probably meant his RT fell to the ground. Then his voice is faint next: “I don’t understand why we invited these dickheads,”

“It’s for a truce,” you place the bowl on the countertop, crossing your arms over your white linen sweater, the soft cotton tickling your wrists. “I mean, baby, come on. You graduated! And so did they and, y’know, they want to fix things before they head off to college. And- Eddie, come on, you agreed!”

“I did. But, I just don’t know why we have to watch a movie at your place. You’re alone with Andy right now and I’m still twenty minutes away,”

You hear something slam in the background over his side. You frown, eyes scanning for Andy’s figure out in the backyard; a silver mist hovers over the teal pool, dark green grass almost black, the moon glinting its sharp tips.

And then there’s Andy, with his hands in his hips and a cigarette in his mouth. He turns and waves at you. You wave back.

“Andy’s not here with me. He’s outside, remember?” you pop a popcorn into your mouth, bending over the counter with your elbow on the marbled gloss. “You gotta relax, Eds. I’m fine. If he touches me, I could just… stab him,”

"You wouldn't,"

“I would,”

“You caught a rat and sent it away. You didn’t even drown it, or gut it. Or chop its head off,”

Laughing softly, you take the bowl into your hands and head over to the living room, placing it on the coffee table, aligning the stack of movies properly. “Doing that is, like, practically murder. Why don’t they include those cute little rats in the anti-animal abuse law? They’re still animals!”

“They’re pests, sweetheart.”

“Still an animal. And they're cute. Rodents are cute,” you plop down on the couch in a small bounce, not before you give Andy one last glance who seems to be staring at something across the fence. It’s probably just a squirrel. “What about you? Are you brave enough to kill a rat?”

“Oh, princess,” you can imagine him shaking his head, RT resting on the vacant seat beside him, replacing you. “You know I can do so much more than just kill a rat,”

“Spooky,” flipping your hair behind you, you giggle into the microphone. “Make it quick, please? I’m starving and popcorn’s not gonna suffice this hunger. I could eat a horse, or- I dunno, a person’s arm.”

“Sure thing, Your Majesty,” his voice deepens over a border of a mock British accent that hides his normal, American one well. Then he grunts, and another faint slam of something that catches you off guard and even makes you flinch.

“What was that?”

“What was what?” Eddie questions.

You sit forward. “That- slam. Where are you?”

“Oh! That. It’s just the shit at the back, babe.” Eddie explains. “I’m almost there, sweetheart. Sit tight and look pretty,”

The RT crackles and there’s nothing but silence left. An ephemeral smile makes its way towards your heated face; conversations with Eddie, no matter the topic or its duration, never fails to make itself linger around your berserk mind.

Your heart belabors your ribcage expectantly, your crimson bottom lip tucked between your pearls. With your thoughts suddenly wrapped around Andy, who makes you wonder how long does it take for someone to finish smoking, makes you jump from your seat and wander away from your bright living room.

By the time you reach the sliding doors that lead you to the backyard, you’ve no sight of the man in the bright green and orange Hawkins High jersey. You frown a little, looking around the expanse of your backyard.

Finally, you slide the doors open. You worry he’s on his little schemes again, like Eddie had warned you about. Despite the truce they offered, you still put them on a pedestal and remained cautious of their actions. Inviting Andy into your home when you were still alone wasn’t exactly one of your brightest decisions, seeing as he could have done anything at any moment that could cause you harm.

But he’s not a murderer.

No, Andy’s a teenage boy who’s attempting closure and forgiveness and practices maturity like every other teenager does. Just… at a later date.

You race back inside your home and pick up your RT and a flashlight. When you return outside, the mist over your pool swishes away from the cold summer wind at nightfall. You turn the switch of your flashlight and direct it at each direction that it could reach, radio tight in your other hand just in case.

“Andy?” you call out. Where could he have possibly gone? “Andy, where are you?”

White sneakers stained by the wet grass and the dirt, you pad across the lawn prudently—tacitly, wondering if maybe you could sneak up on him and give him a good scare. But your backyard lacks trees or any other areas to hide into other than the sun loungers and the shed.

So this concerns you deeply. How Andy could just suddenly disappear. You’ve quickly come to dread this, with the eerie silence that blots repetitively at your composure and suddenly your rattling in worry.

You walk around, pointing your flashlight at every direction, the white beam only allowing you to see the probable septuagenarian metal fences that surround your home. You even open the shed you’ve always feared opening in the nights and see nothing but your father’s equipment and a lawn mower.

But something was missing there.

Your father had a very voluptuary collection of knives that are hung meticulously to the wooden walls of the shed. They were exhibited by size, cleaned thoroughly once a week during his weekends. Their frequent disinfectioning proffers itself like a mirror, where you can clearly see your distraught expression when you realize one of the knives was missing.

The Buck 120.

It was your father’s most beloved. And now you wonder if Andy took it.

“Alright, Andy!” you slam the shed door close, walking backwards and speed walk across every corner of your backyard. “Come out! This isn’t funny! Did you go inside the shed?”

No answer, obviously. What were you thinking?

You harrumph, annoyed that Andy would do this despite your brooding. You stomp your way back inside your house, wiping your feet across the poor rug that you practically assault with your frustrated padding.

You place your flashlight on the counter. Impatient and worried, you try contacting Eddie again through the RT.

When it’s nothing but static, you groan. “God, Eddie, where are you?”

In fact, where are the others?

You twist the knobs of your walkie talkie still, searching for the right station.

Suddenly it crackles and you halt your doings, staring at the radio with a confused lour. The crinkling sound makes you tap your feet impatiently, thinking it’s Eddie because who else could it be?

The frizzling ceases. You take this as a sign to speak. “Hello?”

“Hi sweetheart,” it’s Eddie. But his voice is akin to darkness, almost like corruption playing with a knife that glooms over boredom. The hairs on your arms raise in arising suspicion.

“...Eddie?”

“Go out to the backyard, baby,”

Discomposed, you do. You take heedful steps back outside, a sinister quietude resolves uneasily all over your lit nerves. You hold the walkie talkie tight in your shaking hand, the flashlight you took lighting up the backyard again.

“I’m out,” you say quietly into the microphone. “Eddie, where are you?”

“Just keep walking forward,”

You miff. “Eddie, just come here! Where are you, anyway?” you look around, pointing the flashlight over the fences. “This isn’t funny. Did you take my dad’s knife? You know he hates it when someone touches his collection.”

Eddie titters like he doesn’t give a damn. “Just do what I say,”

Cheeks sucking in, you walk forward, until your eyes adjust to a dark figure sitting in the middle of the lawn. You tap your flashlight twice on your lamp, and point the light at the figure.

If you could, you could have broken the handle in your hand.

Andy’s mangled body sat straight on the chair, the guidance of the blood-soaked ropes kept him up high. His head dangles to the side, his open throat bleeds lavishly down his white shirt; the horrifyingly stark contrast of vermillion to alabaster sets an aberrant spark of terror in your bones.

Then the slit of his apertured stomach leaks all his visceri, a pool of blood beneath his feet and the chair, staining your grass red. You drop the flashlight without your knowledge, the light shining his wretched sneakers instead.

Your hands shakily grasp your mouth, your lips twisting drastically into a choked sob as tears try to sting your eyes. A couple of them drip down your cheeks, your crying more like heavy heaves and gasps.

“Eddie?” you whimper into the walkie. “Where are you? You- you have to come and get me and- and we h-have to call the cops. E-Hello…?” you bring the radio away from your face, staring at the small machine in horror. “Eddie?”

With perturbing fear, you force yourself to look up at Andy again. It’s only then you notice his eyes stare off into space, lacking the brash colors irises adorn — they aren’t blue anymore. It’s a pearl swimming in a milk of lifeless beauty; the barbaric aura of his eyes evinces you speechless, unable to look away from the monstrous crime.

His mouth gapes open, the shocking realization that no breath leaves his agape lips causes you to sob again, your feet bolting you back inside your home, body breaking at each step until you arrive inside your home in shambles.

You hit the walkie repeatedly and speak into it, the way Dustin would during ‘Code Reds’. “Eddie? Eddie!” you hiss. “You answer right-fucking-now. I need you to call the cops—”

With your constant walking back, and your shaky exhales and that ringing in your ears forbids you to hear what has happened inside the home. With one last step, your back meets something warm and acute, causing you to scream and pick up something close to you—a knife.

You point it to whoever it was, the tip meeting the intruder's black clothed mask. Your eyes are wide with fear that attempts bravery, the blunt knife threatening that person.

Your eyes meet the plastic ones, the mask sembles a ghost; its wide, parted mouth frozen like a haunted scream, but the vizard is nothing but dull with its aimless attempt to scare. Anamnesis, had it not been from the circumstances, you would have laughed at it.

You almost did.

“Hi,”

The voice is muffled, the sound marching to familiarity, to hesitance, to realization, to disbelief. You let out a shaky huff, your weapon trembling in your grasp.

“Eddie?”

His glove moves like a blur to remove his mask.

Eddie’s breathless and sweaty, droplets of blood splattered from his neck up to his jaw, the sanguine blood creating symbiotic art with his opalescent skin. He smiles, corners of his lips almost meeting his eyes, his dimples deep with pride, and his whiskey orbs wide in redolent mentality.

“Yeah, it’s me,” he tilts his head to the side, his crepuscular mouth still managing to make you swoon and forget about the horrors that cover his body. “Sorry I’m late, sweetheart,”

His hand gently pushes the knife down and you oblige, dropping it to the ground in a loud clatter that makes you wince.

Your head flips between him and the sliding doors behind you, which still shows Andy’s corpse from the flashlight you left.

“What did you do?” you query, bottom lip quivering as you look back at Eddie. He shrugs with no care, his eyebrows raised to his forehead.

“I killed them,” he says bluntly, his smile falling a little. “I told you I could kill more than just a rat, babe,”

“Wh-what so you just—decided to suddenly kill them? While we were talking about- about rats and shit?!”

Eddie shakes his head, worry filling his features. Though, he’s worried more at the fact that you may fear him for what he’s done. He bends down, his bloody, gloved hands reaching to grasp your shoulders, which causes the thick substance to stain your white sweater.

“No, baby, no,” he tuts, pouting a little, his hands smearing themselves over your clothing like he’s trying to clean his hands before he cups your face, his gloved thumbs wiping your barely there tears. “I was already thinking about this months ago. Rage does something to your mind, sometimes,”

You whimper and his features soften. “What- what do you mean?”

“Sweetheart, I just told you,” he pushes your hair away, patting it down. “I was mad. I am mad. I couldn’t just sit there and let them taunt me when I’m all defenseless, baby. Life isn’t like that—you’re supposed to fight back.”

“Fight back, not kill them!” you say through gritted teeth, chest heaving brokenly. “Eddie, you’ll go to jail. People will find out,”

“They won’t, baby. Not with this mask,” he takes it from the counter, the absence of his hand from one of your cheeks leaves something cold on your bare skin. “Besides, no one’s roaming around, remember? Everyone’s at the town fair, and we don’t have any surveillance cameras now, do we?”

You sniffle, can’t decide between leaning in his covered hand or flinching away from the smell of blood. But his eyes—Eddie’s eyes, oh, you can see well every shift of emotion, desecrating each one with something new and peculiar; he exceeds the threshold of creativity with it, almost like an actor. Just… more quixotic.

Yet, despite your knowledge of it, you’re still surprised and fooled with the way the madness in his eyes swiftly changed into something like begging and forbearance. How all that insanity melts and twinkles into silk kindness, like he’s your Eddie again.

He sees your fear.

“You don’t have to be afraid,” his hands leave your face for a moment to discard his blemished gloves. Your heart relaxes at the feeling of his rough palms on your soft cheeks, eyes scanning his blood doused rings. “You know I love you, (y/n). I could never, never ever, hurt you,”

Eddie’s anger has clemency incarcerated; all that self-restraint had finally become impuissant. You couldn’t blame him for finally snapping.

“And,” he continues. “You wanted this too, remember? All that taunting, all the horrible things they said to you. And I know it’s all because of me, princess. So I had to handle it. It’s all in my hands, baby.” his fingers travel down to yours, bringing your hands up to his lips and kisses each dip of your knuckle. “Yours are all pretty and clean. Sinless,”

“I wanted them to pay. I didn’t want them to die—”

“Sweetheart, you did,” Eddie says sternly. “I did this for you. Before we go away to stupid college.”

You start sobbing again and he shushes you. You don’t know why tears aren’t rolling down your face and it frustrates you.

“You killed them,” you spit out. “That’s- that’s murder…”

“No shit,” he snorts.

“It’s wrong,” you blink rapidly, nostrils flaring. “You killed them, Eddie. And you expect me to- to what? Think of this as some sort of gift? Dead people as a gift?”

Now, he’s angry. His face hardens, his jaw clenching. Eddie shakes his head like a disappointed father at you.

“Learn how to appreciate things that are done for you, (y/n).” he says loudly. “They deserve it. They’re bullies. And bullies need to be punished,” Like a switch, though, his anger morphs into exasperation. “Baby, you know I love you, right?”

You only stare at him with whimpers trying to escape your mouth.

Eddie grasps your face tighter, you wince. “You know that I love you?”

“Yes,” you breathe out, nodding rapidly. “Yes. I- I know.”

“Then let’s celebrate it, okay?” Eddie’s face moves closer to you, the tip of his nose brushing against yours. “No more bother, am I right?”

Letting out an exhale, you shake your head.

“Good,”

Eddie leans down to capture your lips on his own, feverishly and almost passionately. Your hands wrap around his wrist when he tilts your head back as he straightens his spine, his mouth venturing deeper to let his tongue wander inside.

He smells of dirt and sweat, with whoever’s blood around his neck. The surrounding thought of death continues to imprison your mind, but Eddie overpowers it. Now, it’s just Eddie, Eddie, blood, hunger, and Eddie.

You try not to moan when his lips break away from yours, kissing his way from your cheeks down to your jawline, littering heat ‘till he reaches that spot of yours he knows you love so much.

Eddie spins you around until the dip of your spine meets the countertop. Your hands grasp tightly at his shoulders, eyes fluttering as he sucks and bites at your sweet spot like it’s his breakfast, his hands leaving his face to clutch and grasp at the swell of your ass.

Your periphery shows you the blurred image of Dead Andy once more, but you’re starting not to care. Not when Eddie licks up at your salty skin. His fingers dance from your ass until he’s gripping your thighs and lifting you up to the counter.

“Fuck, uh, Eds,” conscience tells you what you’re doing is wrong. That moral doer of an angel whispering in your ear. You almost succumbed to her. But the devil tells you to keep going. Fulfill your fantasies. You’re already there.

He pulls away from your neck, leaving short kisses on your lips repetitively. “God- you’re so pretty,”

His bare hands start to wander everywhere. Eddie clutches at the end of your shirt, urging you to move your arms up and you do. He discards the bloody sweater and throws it somewhere.

“Do you trust me?” Eddie asks.

With your whole heart. You don’t know.

“Yeah,” you sigh against him.

His hand moves behind him and pulls something shiny out. You frown at it.

“Is that my dad’s knife? Eddie, I told you—”

“I know, I know,” he chuckles. “Just wanted to have some fun, baby. Don’t worry, I’ll clean it.”

The weapon still had blood on it, dripping down to the handle, the curved tip, slick with crimson substance. You wonder whose it is.

He’s careful with it, making sure not to cut you with it, as his eyes wander over your bra. Eddie licks his lips at it, biting his bottom lip at the sight of the white lace that covers your ample tits.

“You gonna be a good girl for me?” he questions in a gentle susurration. You nod when you feel the wet knife drag down your stomach, a line of crimson painting your skin. “Words.”

“Yes,” Eddie looks at your wondrous gaze, cut short when the undulated tip dips inside your belly button and your head lulls back. “Y-yes,

Eddie’s knife, now owned by him from the sinful deed of murder, pulls away from your stomach to swim across your back, the cold spine of it pressing against your back, before the blade pushes up and cuts the fabric of your bra with ease.

“Oh, yeah, that's it,” he chuckles. “Look at your pretty tits babe.”

You don’t look at them. You look at his mesmerized look, watching him lean down to take a nipple into his mouth. You gasp, the hand that helps you prop yourself up the counter now grasping his damp curls, tugging at it, which elicits a groan from him.

He sucks at your buds, until they’re puckered and hard, ticklish when he blows air onto them. When he treats the other tit with the same hunger, and they’re all kiss-swollen and sensitive, he squeezes them in his hands before he pulls away.

You lean forward and pull on the collar of his ‘costume’, your mouth heavily watering as it parts, the need for something to fill it up so strong. Eddie chuckles, flips the knife in his hand until the bloody blade sits in his open palm and the black handle comes up to rest on your tongue.

You could practically see his cock bulging out from the black robe that covers him. Eddie coos when your lips wrap around the handle, the flat of your tongue pressing up on it.

“Get on your knees, sweetheart,”

Immediately, you do. With death no longer prevailing in your mind, you fall to your knees, the ends of his robe meeting your thighs. Eddie's hands disappear behind his robe, and you watch him until you see it loosen and fall behind him to the ground.

“Oh my god, you’re not wearing any jeans?” you look up at him through your eyelashes.

“This robe is heavy and it’s hot. I would die first before I killed them,” he snickers. You pull on the band of his boxers, driving them down until his cock springs up and his swell tip slaps up his shirt.

Eddie almost rips his shirt apart, tossing it where his robe was. You spit down your hand, a glob of white down your palm before you wrap it around his shaft. He moans.

“A little tighter baby,” you squeeze and he sighs. “Yeah, that’s it. Put that mouth into good use, come on.”

With something pooling in the apex of your thighs, your mouth hovers over his head, and you engulf its thickness into your mouth and suck. Both your hands pump him in a tight grasp, which makes his ass clench and buck up in your mouth that you gag at the sudden impact of his tip hitting the back of your throat.

You pull out and gasp, a string of saliva connecting your lips to his dick, your lipstick smudged all over his veiny base. You blink away the tears from your eyelashes, Eddie’s hands on top of your head but not forcing you down on him.

“Let me fuck your face, princess,” he pleads. “Relax your throat and let me do it, ‘kay?”

Your jaw practically unhinges, his musk heavily filling your nose that meets the tush of curls above his cock when he goes all the way in. Eddie moans a bit louder, the salty precum leaking down your loosened throat. His thrusts are slow, and albeit his previous aggression, he’s calm with the way he fucks your mouth dumb.

Hands greedy, they search for his heavy sack full of cum and play with them, unable to jerk his length when it’s deep in your mouth. Eddie laughs out a groan, his throbbing head twitching against your tongue, his thighs shaking and his hips involuntarily bucking again.

“Fuck, yeah, that’s it,” he cards his fingers through your hair, pushing it back until it’s wrapped in his hand like a makeshift ponytail. Your cheeks enclose around him, the lewd wet sounds of his slick cock being lathered by your tongue and saliva accompanied by his moans, your gags, and your humming.

You tug on his balls, cupping the squishy, loose flesh. You breathe in his spirituous scent, looking at him like you’d been praying to Hades; nothing but pliant as his dick names you stupid.

And Eddie—Eddie looks down at you like you’re the most precious thing he’s seen, awaiting to be corrupted but he thinks you already have been.

He keeps pulling out and fucking back in until real tears pour down your cheeks. Your lips all swollen and inflamed from the rough friction, eyes cockdrunk he’s amused with this sight of you all used up beneath him.

“Look at you, such a slut,” he coos, a soft tsk from his tongue. Two of his fingers tap your sucked cheeks as he continues to thrust into your face. Your head shakes as you take him deeper, smiling wickedly around him, teeth grazing lightly on his skin but fuck does he love it. “H-holy shit. Oh, god—”

His stomach clenches, his happy trail slick with sweat. It’s a telltale sign that he’s close and you keep on letting him fuck your face like it’s your dripping cunt. You suck his cock with every fiber being that builds you, until Eddie’s yelling and loud with his moan as he spills in your mouth.

That hot, pearlescent seed of his falls down your throat, its saltiness makes you mewl, swallowing every bit of his spent. Eddie’s hips stutter into your mouth, spurting and spurting until his dick aches and he pulls out.

“You alright?” his hands massage the sides of your neck, thumbs rubbing your throat. “Didn’t hurt, did it?”

“No,” you sigh. “Now come and fuck me, Ghostface. I’m tired of all this foreplay thing.”

Eddie laughs at your impatience, hands bunching up the fabric of your underwear before he rips it apart. Then he lifts you back up onto the counter, his knees nudging your legs apart, the slickness of your pussy dribbling down to the table.

“You and your inability to wait and have fun, sweetheart,” he leans down to kiss you, though it's more like wet pecks that litter across your head. “You’re taking the fun away,”

You pout. He kisses it again. “This whole thing is taking too long. Just— Eddie!”

“Okay, okay,” he grabs a hold of his cock, the other tight on the dips of your waist. “I got you, babe.”

He slaps his still sensitive tip on your clit, sending jolts of pleasure that shivers from your heat to your back down to your legs. You whine softly, bucking your hips forward, until Eddie finally slips his head in your tight hole.

When he pushes in and finally settles deep inside your warm cunt, you feel full. In the way you wanted to be filled. You forget the fact that your boyfriend—who’s cockdeep inside your cunt—has killed someone and left them tied up at your backyard and now you’re having sex.

You don’t care. It’s been your plan all along anyway.

Eddie’s tip meets your cervix through a rough, blissful stab. He doesn't start slow like what he did with your mouth; no, he's brutal. Unforgiving with his bloodthirsty hip snapping. You moan loudly at each thrust, your nails scraping along his back.

You see the blood splattered across his tattoos, like his cloak had been futile at its attempt to keep his sacred body clean. The demon sure brought itself to life, dripping down to his hip and smeared across his bone, and Eddie never looked more alluring.

The bright lights of the kitchen adds a sheen layer of pandemonium that splits between risqué endeavors; it exudes sex in the way that can only enthrall you, Eddie’s mind gone to mayhem from all that pent up emotions.

Cunt squelching from that wetness created by the taste of his cum still swimming on your tongue, you leave marks on his skin like he’s your art. Bloodied and bruised up Eddie should be everyone’s worst nightmare, you think. He’s karma brought to life.

With his blinding thrusts, you don’t notice him picking up his knife again, only to drag its crooked tip right on the soft column of your neck that’s covered in hickies. You smile a little, too drunk on the feeling of Eddie’s cock going in and out of your silky sex.

“What are you doing?” you pant, hands lazily wrapping around his neck. “You gonna slit my throat open?”

“Nah, babe,” his tongue pokes out in concentration, dragging the flat belly of the knife across. “Just gonna nick you for the hell of it. Just—”

There’s a shling sound of a sharp knife piercing lightly through your skin. From the kiss of the knife, you moan painfully, your hand wrapping around Eddie’s neck subconsciously as the searing affliction ricochets in a rapture whirlwind down your spine.

Eddie exclaims in pride; you feel the blood drip down your skin, pulsing and extravasating coldness. He slopes and presses the flat of his tongue to lap up at your thick ichor, mewling at your taste the same time you gasp out silent screams at his relentless fucking.

“You taste so fucking amazing,” he murmurs against your now blood-deluged flesh. Eddie consumes it all. “Wish I could just fucking carve my name onto you.”

You clench tight onto him, like you’re sucking him into you. Eddie’s eyes roll to the back of his head.

“Oh- oh, she likes that, doesn’t she?”

“Do that—shit, oh!– do that next t-time,” you giggle onto his hair that you clutch like a vice, his hot tongue continues swimming arousal down your split cunt.

His skin slapping against yours sounded like a hypnotizing siren, which kind of ameliorates the bawdiness of the shlick sounds of your pussy engulfing his luxuriant dick.

Eddie stabs the knife down on the countertop, places a hand behind you and the other wrapped around your sweaty waist and fucks you into oblivion. Your moans become carnally loud, enough to drive the neighbors away but also enough to appease your boyfriend.

And at each thrust—everytime he pulls you down to meet his hips—your orgasm protrudes on you like a knife. Closer and closer until it’s deep into your flesh and almost peeking out of your epidermis. You mewl into Eddie’s ear.

“I’m gonna cum,” you choke out. “Fuck– don’t– don’t stop. Don’t stop, don't stop, don't stop.”

Shameless, mimicked wails of ecstasy, cascading into soft ‘uhs’ when your lips dance across his earlobe. Eddie wedges his thumb between the place that leaves him wondering where he starts and where he ends, rubs your bundle of nerves that has been grinding against his coarse pubes in perpetuity.

“Gonna cum for me, sweetheart?” he grunts against your temple. “Go–shit–a-and cum for me, baby. Come on. Be a good girl and cum,”

Obeying him, you gush all over his sensitive cock that spills inside your trembling walls. Your hips stutter in the air, clenching, cunt guzzing all of his spunk. Eddie lets out one last moan before he slumps against you, his curls sticking to your skin.

You pull away, finally meeting Eddie’s usual wide, baby brown eyes full of wonder and excitement. “Hi.”

“Hi sweetheart,” Eddie kisses your cheek. “You did amazing, babe,” while he doesn't pull out, he does pull his hand out for a high five. Your palm meets his. “Love the crying bit, by the way. You could be in, like, a Stanley Kubrick film.”

Eddie pushes your hair behind your ears and leaves a peck on your lips as he swipes the sweat away.

“You said you wanted the roleplay to be convincing,” you argue playfully. “I seriously don’t like how you touched my dad’s collection, Eds,”

“It was for a good cause,” his cock softens inside you, and so does Eddie. “Baby, I didn’t scare you, did I?”

“Not at all,” you wrap your arms lazily around his neck, brushing his hair. “We signed up for this, remember? Killing them has always been our plan before we left. We just added the sex thing to have some fun,”

“You’re right,” he nods, eyes squinting. “No porn film can exceed the greatness of our roleplay. The killer, and the helpless little lamb. Shit, that could be the title,”

“The Horny Killer, and The Sexy Little Lamb,”

“Better,” Eddie kisses your nose, you giggle. “Wanna see Jason and Chance’s bodies?”

A year ago, your patience had been bound tightly around your heart. You were understanding, kind; nothing but a vestibule of angelicum.

That is, until you met the devil that succumbed into your sinful desires.

Eddie wasn’t like this before. But truthfully, he actually did just snap. He let all his frustrations go—from watching the light leave someone’s eyes, to fucking you like there’s no tomorrow.

His van doors open, tossing Andy’s heavy body into the back, right between Jason and Chance’s horrifyingly mutilated bodies. All their skins pale and their eyes defunct. You place your hands on your hips.

“Where’s Patrick?” you ask him.

“He was nice. Didn’t have the heart to kill him,” he pouts, wrapping his arm around your back and kissing your temple. “I was thinking of hanging them at the gym tomorrow on the last day? Right before I kill Principal Higgins?”

“Sounds like a great idea,” you rest your head on his shoulder.

Originally, you only planned on roleplaying. No murder, no knives, no fright, no blood. But there’s no harm in going a little bit psycho with this whole sex extravaganza. Everyone had their own kinks.

You’re just lucky enough Eddie felt the same.

You pick up the mask and put it over your head, Eddie’s faint scent of cigarettes and alcohol burning your nose. “I get to wear this next time, right?”

“Of course,” Eddie smiles. “But, you get to carve your initials on me next time.”

“Deal.”

reblogs and feedbacks are appreciated ♡

#eddie munson one shot #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfiction #ghostface!eddie #eddie munson #stranger things x reader #stranger things smut

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megthemewlingquim · 2 years

Note

Morpheus scolding a "yn" close friend or loved one for pulling an academic all-nighter.

time flies.

Summary: You've worked all night, doing a task for The Dreaming. Morpheus finds you at your desk at an ungodly hour.

Pairing: Dream of the Endless x Reader

Warnings: none

A/N: I will not be writing any huge spoilers; I have read the entire Sandman series from start to finish, but I will not give away anything that you don't already know (assuming you've seen Season 1).

It's a dark but peaceful night outside of Dream's castle. The sky is a very dark blue, starless but still lovely. The air about the Dreaming is a gentle breeze, and it's warm outside, as if summer is in full swing.

Morpheus is in a pleasant mood, it seems.

The castle itself, towering over everything else within the Dreaming, is a beautiful structure. The lights inside are a strong gold color, and they cut through the dark.

You've been in the Library of Dreams for a long while, working tirelessly on a task that Lucienne had given you. You're her apprentice — currently studying and remembering some of the titles in the Library.

A large, leather bound book sits open on your table. Next to you stand tall bookshelves, filled with countless books of numerous sizes and colors. You write in this book in front of you, filling out names of mortal authors from long ago and the books they never wrote.

G.K Chesterton.... A.A Milne.... Edgar Allan Poe... William Shakespeare...

"What're yeh doing still here?" asks a gruff voice behind you.

You turn around in your chair and see Merv Pumpkinhead, a sentient jack-o-lantern pumpkin dressed in scarecrow clothes, smoking a cigar. His eyes, for once, are not narrowed — instead, they are open in concern.

"Ah, hi, Merv," you say sleepily. "I'm... writing things down. Lucienne wanted me to study things."

"Yeah, uh, that was a couple hours ago," Merv says. He puffs at his cigar. "Maybe you should get some sleep, huh? Lucienne wouldn't want you to stay up so late. And neither would the Boss Man."

You smile at that. Morpheus.

"What do you think he's doing? Does he need sleep?"

"Who? Boss Man? I dunno, kid. I've never seen him sleep, if that helps your question. But I know you need sleep. That book will be there when you wake up tomorrow." Merv pauses, then continues, awkwardly, "Er, hopefully, it will. Sometimes things are... eaten... by whatever apparitions decide to wander the halls here, late at night..." Quickly, he perks up again. "But! I'm sure it'll be here when you get back here tomorrow morning?"

"It's alright, Merv," you mumble with a smile. "I'll go to bed. I just want to finish a couple more of these, try to rack my brain for any others I might've missed."

Merv sighs. "Alright, kiddo. Suit yourself. I'll leave you be. Just be sure to get some sleep, alright?"

"Alright," you grin. "G'night, Merv."

"Night." Merv takes his leave of you, the only evidence he was ever there is some cigar smoke still lingering in the library.

You turn back around and get back to work. All is silent in the Library, aside from the sound of your pen scratching the paper.

Christopher Marlowe... Jane Austen... J.R.R Tolkien... C.S Lewis...

Your eyes are glued to the paper, your mind racing. You're writing as fast as your mind can think, testing yourself with how many names you can remember.

Suddenly, your mind blanks. Your hand hovers over the paper, the pen in hand. You furrow your brow for a minute, your lips moving soundlessly in an attempt to go over each author you've written down.

You get to St. John the Divine of Patmos when the candle lights flicker all at once, dimming for a time and then coming back up to their full strength. Looking up, you hear another voice speak:

What are you doing here, at this hour?

Morpheus — Dream of the Endless — is standing beside you, looking down at your work, a hand on the chair you're sitting in. His voice is so soft, it doesn't startle you.

"I was... working."

Morpheus blinks. You're exhausted.

"Am I?" you say, trying to shrug off the tiredness that hangs on you. "What time is it?"

It's late, says Dream. Time has no meaning for him. Everyone else is asleep. Mervyn, Matthew, Cain and Abel... even poor Lucienne.

You think on this. If even Lucienne is asleep, it really is an ungodly hour...

What are you working on? Dream asks. What are you writing?

Wordlessly, you show the book to him. He reads over it, and his brow furrows.

You're awake... over this? Dream crouches down to and faces you, his starry eyes filled with worry. You poor thing. This is not needed. Did Lucienne ever check up on you?

"No," you say, truthfully. "But, I know why. She was too busy with the census. That's alright though, I don't mind being here. It's relaxing." You perk up. "But... Merv came to see me, just a few minutes ago."

The tiniest hint of a smile comes up over his face. Indeed? What did he say to you?

"That I should go to bed," you say.

And he was absolutely right. I think this can wait, don't you? Dream gestures with a perfectly manicured hand towards the huge leather book. Then, he lowers his hand and places it on your own.

I miss you, my love, he says gently, his voice now laced with longing. Come to bed.

How could you say no to that?

#the sandman #the sandman netflix #morpheus sandman #morpheus x reader #dream of the endless #dream of the endless x reader #morpheus #the sandman x reader #netflix the sandman

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anime-addict-362 · 1 year

Text

Better Than a Street Whore

CW: NSFW, Shigaraki x Y/N, bottom Shigaraki, he threatens to kill Y/N a lot, begging, overstimulation, lots of kissing, half-assed written aftercare, Y/N switches between degrading his dick and prasing him for being good, I wrote this within 2 hours, forgive me, it was out of boredom promise

× × × × × ×

Shigaraki stood in front of Y/N. Why did she need to be there? She was hired by All For One, but she didn't do anything. Just sat around on her phone all day.

Despite her lack of work, All For One demanded she be there, and he was not allowed to kill her. Damnit.

"Can you leave," He asked, annoyed with the sound of her nails clacking on her phone screen.

"Nah," Y/N didn't even look at him, still typing. "Big man wants me here. I gotta be here."

"Why," Shigaraki scoffed.

"I dunno," She shrugged. "Ask him, he's your master or whatever."

"I-"

"And what is up with that," Y/N rolled her eyes. "Master used outside of the bathroom? Weird."

He blinked. What was she talking about? What did she mean, outside of the bedroom?

"Don't tell me you're confused," She finally looked up from her phone, to look at him amused. "Not bitch boy being a virgin."

Not allowed to kill her. He was allowed to hurt her.

She dodged the glass that flew towards her head with a yelp, and she grabbed her phone before she could drop it.

"I'm not a virgin," He yelled over the glsss shattering.

"Jesus," She mumbled. "It was just a goddamn joke. The fuck is wrong with you?"

"Real fucking funny," He rolled his eyes.

"So," She asked, standing up fully. "Who'd you lose your virginity to?"

His eyes widened. "None of your goddamn business!"

He wanted to dust her when she approached, but no, he wasn't allowed to.

"I bet you used that nomu," She pouted, ignoring his rage filled look. "You needed to feel in control for once so you took something you could order around with no consequence."

"I- I absolutely-"

"Or," She smirked, running a hand on his tense stomach. "You had it fuck you until you couldn't breath, just to get out of your mind for a bit. I could only imagine the cock one those things-"

Shigaraki smacked her hands when she started estimating the... girth of a potential nomu penis. "They don't even have a penis!"

"Oh," Y/N looked to him. "Still big fingers. One is around the size over a bigger than average human dick. I get you could take multiple though-"

"I'm going to murder you," She yelped with a laugh as he reached for her, and she ran.

"No killing me," She squealed as he threw her on the couch. "It's not allowed! Your master wouldn't like it!"

He groaned. Of course he told her about the rule. "Just- Leave. Get out."

"I can't," She shrugged, relaxing back. "Not for a few weeks."

He walked away, but like a fucking dog, she followed with a giggle. "So? Did you fuck the nomus?"

"No," He yelled.

"You can tell me," She pouted. "I'll share one of my fucked up sex stories if you tell me yours."

"No," He scoffed.

"Virgin," She accused.

"Shut up," He grabbed another cup but she was taking it from him before he could chuck it at her.

"Are you a virgin," This time, her tone of genuine. "No laughing, promise."

He blinked, confused on why she cared... Fuck it. Maybe it'll get her to back off.

"No," He answered honestly. "And it wasn't a nomu, you sick freak."

She shrugged. "So who was it?"

Shigaraki moved uncomfortably, shrugging. "I don't remember her name. Just a hook up from awhile ago."

"So it didn't mean anything," She looked judgey. "Have you had any meaningful sex?"

He scoffed. "I lead a very large group of murderous villains. What makes you think I have time for feelings?"

She shrugged, and he jumped at her grabbing his hand. She held it up by the palm, then traced his fingers once she turn it upright.

"Are you trying to kill yourself," He mumbled, watching her fingers trace his calloused hand.

"This is not nearly a suicide attempt," She chuckled. "How do you have sex with absolutely no feeling behind it? I never understood the hype around that."

He gulped as her hand continued up his arm. "I- I don't know. It's just how it is."

She hummed, a hand going to his chest. "You're not pushing me away."

She was right. He wasn't.

"I don't have meaningful sex," He tried to tell her, both of her hands now on him. "I don't let feelings get involved."

"That's not exactly what meaningful sex means," She mumbled, pulling his shirt up suddenly. "At least not to me."

He helped pull the shirt off. God, it was hot in there. She shoved him against the bar, hands holding his waist. He was awfully skinny, so she grabbed quite a bit of him just like that.

"I'm going to make you feel so good," She whispered, going to his neck. "Gonna let me? Let me make you feel amazing."

He huffed, staring at her body, that was pressed up against his. He gasped at the bite on his neck. "Fuck- Yes. Yes Y/N."

She grinned, bringing a hand up to wrap in his hair. She held him in place while she kissed him, roughly. He groaned, gripping the counter behind him.

"You're hot," She grinned, hands swiping over his ribs. "Lead me to your room."

Was he really about to do this? Was he really about to have sex with a woman he finds insanely annoying?

He didn't need to answer that, because the way he pulled her to his bedroom was answer enough.

Y/N pulled him back into a rough kiss the second the door was closed, pushing him against it.

"Now, listen up," She grabbed his face, holding it in place so he stayed looking at her. "I want you touching me, so go put on those silly gloves you have."

Shigaraki huffed, but listened. He moved to his nightstand and grabbed them, slipping them on easily. Once on, Y/N was back in him, kissing him, hands wandering.

He leaned down after a few moments, and picked her up to wrap her legs around his waist. "Okay?"

"Yeah, it's okay," Y/N confirmed with a small smile. She removed her arms around him to pull her shirt off... God, he better not drop her. She would be pissed.

In his defense, he seemed to be somewhat strong. At least enough to hold her.

Once the shirt was off, she proceeded to kiss down his neck. "Lay down on the bed, Shigaraki. Sit me right on you."

Shigaraki wasn't sure he had it in him to refuse. Not with the way her sweet voice sounded, so close to his ear, the way her hand tangled in his hair, the other running down his chest again.

So he sat on the bed, making sure Y/N's legs weren't trapped under him before he laid back. He didn't even think over how good Y/N would look straddling him.

Y/N smiled when she noticed Shigaraki's eyes wandering. "Like what you see?"

"It's decent," Shigaraki huffed.

Y/N pouted at that. "We both know that's a lie. I can tell by the way your face is already burning, you think much different."

Shigaraki gulped, looking up to Y/N. "I don't-"

"I also feel your hard on," Y/N chuckled, putting her hands on either side of his head. "Why not just tell me how you feel? You might get something in return."

He stared at her. "Like?"

"You're a smart man, Shigaraki. Look at our position and take a guess about what I'll do to you," She chuckled. "So? Go on."

He looked her in the eye. "You're fucking infuriating."

"Ouch," She put a hand on her heart. "Keep going."

"You're... attractive, I guess," He cleared his throat, refusing to let his voice crack right now.

"Attractive? Care to elaborate?"

God fuck, this woman.

"I hate you," He groaned, feeling a hand move to the waistband of his pants.

"I'll leave you all hard if you don't start doing what I ask," Y/N's voice was lower now, as if she wss threatening him.

He didn't care though. He could get himself off. He didn't need Y/N to make him come, even if he would probably regret it later... What would Y/N do?

Would she suck him off? Or would they just start having sex? He would enjoy either way but-

He gasped at the hand that grabbed his face, forcing him to look to Y/N. "I'm sitting right here, about to give you the best orgasm of your pathetic life and you're ignoring me?"

"No- I wasn't ignoring you," He went onto explain. But it was hard to explain the way his thoughts got caught up. It didn't matter though, because he remembered what she wanted.

"You're so hot," He huffed, grabbing the wrist of the hand that still held his face. "You're... Pretty too."

Y/N knew the word "pretty" wasn't ever in his vocabulary, but it did sound good coming out of his mouth, in that shaky voice.

"Pretty huh," She grinned, kissing him and finally letting go of his face. "You're pretty yourself, handsome."

He gulped at the compliment. He wasn't sure he liked the compliment, it sounded unrealistic. Him? Pretty? Handsome?

He wasn't given a lot of time to think it over, not with Y/N moving between his legs and pulling his sweatpants snd boxers off in one swipe.

"Y/N," He huffed, feeling her kiss the inside of his thighs. Why was she so bold? Why was she so close?

She kept kissing him, feeling his breathing picking up the closer she got to his dick. She really wanted to see him come, and she wanted it to be the best he's ever had.

Not that would be that hard. She's not the most experienced person in the world but compared to some random woman on the street? Odds are she was way better.

After a few moments, she reached down to her shirt pocket. Sweet, she still had a few condoms left.

"You know, I do think you're very attractive," Y/N spoke up, opening the condom. "I'm sure a lot of the fucked up women on the street want to have some fun with you. Probably even some men."

Shigaraki huffed. What do you say in response to that? Thanks?

"That being said, I think you're a little of a whore and always accept when someone asks to fuck you," Y/N's words made him tense.

"I am not-"

"What I'm getting at," Y/N interrupted him. "Is that I have a hard time believing you don't have some sort of STI. God knows what the people around here have. Especially Dabi."

Shigaraki scoffed. "I don't have an STI."

"Yeah? And who tested you, and when," Y/N raided an eyebrow. "I'm already lowering my standards to give you a decent orgasm, one better than those street sluts can give you, don't get picky now."

Shigaraki gulped as she slid the condom on him. "So what? You think I have a STI and you're still going to have sex with me?"

Y/N grinned. "Oh I'm not fucking you until you get tested. I'm just gonna get you off, and you're gonna get me off. But I'm sure I'll have to teach you, I doubt you know how to properly please a woman."

He glared at her. "Why are you suddenly being a bitch?"

She raised an eyebrow. "So you do know how to make a woman come? And you know, not one of those fake ones. I promise, I won't fake it."

He didn't even know what to say. What do you say to anything she's saying? She was nuts!

He groaned when her hand grabbed his dick, which was now completely covered by the condom. "If you're not gonna fuck me, what's with the condom?"

"You don't have running water here," Y/N raised an eyebrow. "Your dick is probably gross. Again, you seem like a great fuck, but I'm lowering my standards for you. They are practically rock bottom right now."

Shigaraki glared at her harder. "I could kill you at any moment."

"You're right," She smiled softly, starting to jack him off at a gentle pace. "You could. But you're not going to. You like me calling you gross. You're practically whimpering just because my hand is wrapped around your filthy cock. It twitches whenever I insult you. You fucking love this, being under me, just taking my insults."

Shigaraki groaned when she squeezed his cock suddenly, and very hard. He felt like he was close, all her dumb (and very untrue...) words were getting to him.

"Y/N," He gasped, trying to get her hand off of him.

"Beg," She grinned wildly. "Beg me to make you come, tell me how much you love me degrading your filthy cock. Do it."

He whimpered, grabbing her wrist. God, her grip was fucking tough.

"Please," He whispered.

"Hm?"

"Please," He yelled out, holding her arm. "Fuck- Please Y/N, make me come. Degrade me, do whatever, just please, make me come."

...he was pathetic. What was wrong with him?

Y/N hummed, loosening her hand. "Keep going."

"Fuck," He breathed out at the relief. "Please Y/N, god fuck, I need it. I'm so close, please."

He might kill himself later, honestly.

She chuckled, and moved her hand, just enough to get him to come. "I've heard better. But I guess I can't expect too much from you."

Shigaraki moaned, stomach tensing. "Y/N- Oh god."

"C'mon," Y/N grinned, hand moving quicker. "You can come, Tomura. You're doing so good, keep going."

Her suddenly, sickeningly sweet words made his heart tighten, and he eyes roll back. "Fuck- Y/N- please."

She leaned forward and kissed him. He moaned in her mouth, a hand going up to her back. He needed something to hold.

Y/N hissed as his free fingers caught on her skin, but just moved her hand quicker. And it worked, because he was moaning aloud again, as he came, filling the condom.

He whimpered when her hand didn't stop, and moved the hand on her back to her hip to grab more. "Y/N, please, I came already."

"It wasn't good enough," Y/N kissed just under his ear. "I wanna see you crying. I wanna hear you yell my name, I need you begging me to stop because you can't handle how good it feels."

Shigaraki let out a sob, her hand not letting up the quick pace at all. "Y/N- Its too much, please."

"You're doing so good," She whispered, and kissed his jaw. "You're taking it so good, you're being so good for me. You can take another one, I know you can."

He nodded slowly, barely aware of the fact he was drooling. He laid his head back as she kissed him. She was so sweet now. What changed? Did he do something to make her want to be nice all of the sudden?

"Y/N," He moaned quietly against her lips. "Please- I don't think I can-"

"You can," She whispered again, sending a weird feeling through Shigaraki. "You're doing so good already. I know you can be even better."

He felt another sob rip through his chest. "Be mean again- Stop."

She hummed, kissing him. "Why would I be mean when you're being such a good boy? You deserve to be treated nicely after listening,to me so well."

He moaned as her hand twisted around the head of his cock, spreading the come throughout the condom. "I'm- I'm close again- Y/N, god."

"Good boy," She hummed. "C'mon, be a good boy and come for me."

He sobbed and he felt his orgasm build up again. It was a lot, almost overwhelming. "It's- I'm coming- Y/N," He moaned shakily as he came, feeling tears fall as her hand helped him through it.

"Good job," She whispered, stopping her hand. "Such a good job."

He took a deep breath, but it only came out uneven and shaky. He yelped when her hand tightened and moved down the length of his cock slowly.

"Y/N, please," He sobbed, hands shaking, and hips pulling away.

She laughed, pulling her hand away. "Now tell me... Was that better or worse compared to those street whores?"

"Better," He sobbed again, her legs just barely brushing up again his cock. "So much better- Fuck!"

She couldn't stop grinning. But she decided to have some mercy, and stop touching his dick until he calmed down. For now, she just held him, arms wrapping around him.

She sighed at the sob and his arms wrapping around her back, tears wetting her shoulder. "You did such a good job, Tomura. Go ahead and rest."

Why was he still crying? It was done, they were done. But her consistent praise wasn't helping.

"Take a deep breath, Tomura. You did so good, you're done," She kissed his neck. "C'mon, take a deep breath now."

He was way past the point of feeling silly, so he just listened to her, taking a deep breath. He noticed something wet on his hand so he looked to where it restrd on Y/N back.

"I'm sorry," He breathed out, noticing he definitely made her bleed with scratches... It was hard to go out and get nail clippers, okay? Fuck off.

Y/N found the apology comical. He threatened to kill her multiple times and now he was apologizing for a scratch. She made the decision to lot laugh though.

"It's okay," She smiled softly, kissing his cheek. "I'm gonna clean you up, okay?"

He shook his head. "No- I need to make you-"

"It's okay, Tomura," She sat up, out of his arms. "It's alright. You're tired, you need to rest. And I'm going to clean you up."

He nodded, wiping the tears from his face.

It took a few minutes for the embarrassment to set in. It seemed the moment Y/N was cleaning his come covered dick was the moment he lost his humanity, and was officially a disgrace of a villain.

"Oh stop," Y/N scoffed as he tried to pull away. "So dramatic, its just your own dick."

He huffed, face red. "I'm good- Please leave."

"Uh huh," She finally stopped, throwing the towel next to the bed. "Get your eyes off my tits, perv."

"Put your shirt back on," He argued back.

She shrugged, and grabbed her shirt. "I'll be downstairs," He watched her get up and walk out his bedroom. "You owe me an orgasm!"

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