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mywritingonlyfans · 7 months

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Teacher's pet. // Prof! Alex Turner X Stud! Reader (Smut) Part 2 of 3.

prompt: (Age Gap/Smut) Alex, an undergraduate professor, wasn't known for his friendliness until he found himself gradually warming up to you. Your remarkable writing skills, particularly directed at his class, heightened his interest even further. He's determined to show you firsthand just how talented you are, even if the journey is challenging. Eventually, both of you realize that resisting this connection is futile, and you must let go of your inhibitions to explore what lies ahead.

words: 9K.

a/n: I'll need to add one more part, I hope you still feel like reading them! Thank you for waiting all this time! (I'll try my best to finish the last part soon)

HERE'S PART1

Alex promptly notified campus authorities about the boys. Although he didn't know their names, his detailed description enabled other professors to identify them. He ultimately concluded that they weren't a real threat, just a bunch of troublemakers. Nevertheless, he did his part, unwilling to let the situation slide and subject himself to any torment for having overlooked their inappropriate behavior. In the same way, he'd be watching you just as closely, not only because he wanted you to be okay but also because of the intensity that had built up inside him (thoughts and a tiny bit of obsession) after the last time he saw you.

…

His messy and crooked handwriting on the napkin somehow lingered in your mind. Not as much as the possibility of him being someone other than yours, but it persistently surrounded your aura. Your idealization of Professor Turner did not fit with him being a traitor, so yes, the way you portrayed him in your mind did not allow for such a possibility unless he proved otherwise. And that hurts, from deep within your core to the bitterness in your mouth and the burning in your throat. It was frustrating, yet you still wanted him around. What continued to motivate you to read the book he had given you and delve into his notes was the feeling of having him by your side, reading every word with you. Sometimes you were certain that if you closed your eyes, you could hear his rough, accentuated voice blending with the characters.

Perhaps, if you were his age and already held a degree, maybe even a professor specializing in romantic literature, there might have been something between you two. Picture it: a rainy afternoon, your head resting on his chest, his warm lips near your ear as he read to you. You hadn't openly acknowledged it yet, but you felt a certain compatibility despite the numbers of years difference. It took you a while to realize, but his demeanor softened whenever he saw you, his gaze growing more serene, and even the beloved wrinkle between his eyebrows had time to relax. His voice became gentler. You weren't completely oblivious to these cues, though you did have your doubts.

It all traced back to that one night when he had come to your aid, opening your eyes to the possibility that he could belong to someone. The faint, woody scent of his blazer had found its way to your home. He had even apologized for pulling back from a kiss, not wanting to be rude, and left his phone number in your belongings with a simple message: "Call me if you need me, lil’ one." He left no room for doubt; your mind still spun, and you felt helpless, uncertain about what steps to take. But your desire to do something about it burned brightly.

"I can hear your breathing," his tone was relaxed. Just as you hoped it would be with you, and then you wondered if he could recognize you by your breathing alone.

You remained silent, there was no plausible reason or emergency that had made you call. It wasn't strange, just unusual. He laughed, which made you imagine him with a cigarette between his fingers, taking a breath on the balcony with his mouth slightly open to blow out the smoke. Maybe he just smoked too much, and you weren't obsessed.

"It's okay, little one. We can stay in silence." He laughed, in a way that filled your lungs, and the little wrinkles around his eyes appeared for contemplation. At least in your mind, just for you.

You exhaled, your eyes filling with tears. It wasn't exactly a desire to cry, but you felt genuinely sad knowing that you weren't and wouldn't be his.

"How do you know it's me, Mr. Turner?" You wanted to sound playful, but your voice came out so shaky that it made calling him that seem inappropriate.

"It was a guess. Besides, I can't think of anyone who would call me at this hour and stay in deep silence. And, well," there was a pause, his guttural and muffled breathing making you take a deep breath. Enough time for a drag, you thought. "You know, I was ‘oping you’d call." He was sincere, typical of him. He always seemed too clear when he wanted to be. Everyone said he was strict, but you couldn't think of a time when he had made his students confused or uncertain about something he demanded. Demanded, that was a word that suited him in the classroom.

"Waited?" And you saw him nod with a sweet look for you, as if he were by your side. In fact, he just mumbled. "Expected me to be in trouble?" You tried to sound more cheerful.

There was a pause; you lay down, staring at the walls until you buried your nose in the pillow in a hug. He was close to his phone; you could hear him wet his lips and breathe lightly. You wanted to run your fingers over his face and hair again, but you couldn't deny that this was as magnificent as it got.

"Not at all, but I wouldn't hesitate to save you." His eyes closed tightly. The silence grew deeper, still comfortable, it was cute. If you had the chance, you would kiss him before that, before it got too cute. "I'm sorry," he said, not sounding regretful, just reluctant due to your brief absence.

You laughed, not saying anything, but it was enough for him to understand that everything was okay.

"Are you sad?"

Then you felt the pillow get a little damp.

"Am I really that transparent?"

He let out a breath through his nose, his lips curving. If he closed his eyes just right, just like you did, he would also be able to feel your fingers dancing around him.

"Only when you write, but I blame myself for watchin’ you too much during this time." You sounded the same way as when he pushed you a little too hard with his pragmatic comments, and although he found it adorable, over the phone, without being able to do anything about it, it made him a little uncomfortable. His words took brief seconds to be spoken; he wondered if you noticed how nervous he was that he needed to formulate sentences before speaking. And even then, he regretted some of them, not that they were bad, but he didn't want to hurt you.

"I guess I am,"

"Guess?" The air caught in your throat, the back of your nose starting to burn, and you feared it would be difficult to keep tears from flowing.

You didn't want to comment on the woman in the photo, at least not at that moment; you wanted to enjoy being with him as much as possible. Taking a deep breath, you decided to omit the reason but still let him know that you were genuinely upset. Maybe it was because he had helped you; you didn't know why, but you trusted him to a moderate extent that included your feelings. You believed and knew that talking to him would make you feel better.

"I think I'm just stressed," it wasn't a lie. His body shivered, unable to hold you close to comfort you. You felt a little pathetic making such a confession to a 37-year-old man who didn't have the same problems as you.

"I feel like I'm trying so hard for nothing, the days of writing have been a burden, and everything I write is so thought out and time-consuming that I feel like no one would want to read it, I'm almost certain I'm a fraud. I'm just waiting for the day they'll realize." Your throat was already scratchy enough to be closed from the middle to the end; your face was wet, and your head pounded in pulses. This was a recurring thought of yours; you had never verbalized it to anyone.

He listened, his steady breathing becoming slightly faster, and in a way, it calmed you over the phone. The whimsical feeling that he was there for you, even if it was a situation made up in your head, put you at ease.

Alex had noticed that you were insecure about your writing; it was clear how you reacted to his notes and negative feedback. But that was one of the things that made you good, the persistence in wanting to recognize your mistakes, listen, and do things differently. He wished all his students were like that. Although you had a special place in his mind and heart. Alex found you talented and determined; weakness didn't align with your gentle and loving personality. He wanted to make you see yourself through his eyes and free you from that feeling.

"I don't think you are, lil’ one; I know you're not," the pet name brought a smile to your face, and Alex noticed, his chest warming with the satisfaction of successfully soothing your worries. "You'll reach your goals. You write well, pay great attention to detail, and I love every touch of romance in your writing. I mean it now, and I'll mean it even more in the near future. You’re quite meant for this." He settled into his bed, clearing his mind as he imagined you lying beside him. Alex could almost see your gaze darting away from his, just as you often did during his lectures, as if you hoped he wouldn't notice.

You wouldn't admit it, and he wouldn't discover it, but you felt more confident and better in this emotional aspect after his classes. You recognized that you felt even worse about this in the months before you even knew Alex. Now it was different, and you liked that.

"Do you really think so?" It didn't sound like you wanted to hear him repeat the same words. It was more like you still had traces of doubt. He could even see your nose wrinkling, a habit of yours when you were uncertain, which he found endearing. Just like hearing your weak voice like that, no matter how wrong it may be.

"Sometimes I'm certain that I'm not worth the opportunity that someone needs to give me so I can succeed in something, something that hasn't even happened yet and might never," Alex didn't let you linger on that and hushed you until your voice diminished. If he found it painful to hear you talk about yourself this way, he couldn't imagine how you were dealing with it inside your head. "I don't want you to talk ‘bout yourself like that." His voice was firmer, and you shrunk back; it was good to hear above all. "You'll make it. You're worried ‘bout a future you can't control. You're still young, and you haven't even finished your degree. Give things time. Like I said, you're talented, and you'll have good opportunities. And I'd help you in any way possible." Inside his head, he concluded, and in the impossible too. He wished he could hug you, have your body close, and be sure that you were comforted and that your voice was no longer filled with tears, but all he had were words.

Even without a turn of phrase, he noticed you calming down, and he could feel your exaggerated heartbeat through the call. Or maybe that was just his worries. You were a mess. And even though you were frustrated, he didn't want to be anywhere else that night but on the phone with you (even though he preferred you in person next to him).

"Do you think it gets better with time, Mr. Turner?" You smiled; it was forced, he knew that, but he was relieved that you were trying. Then he scratched his nose with a funny look, the way you called him still sending shivers through his body, but he also found it cute how the sound came from your lips.

"The insecurity you're feeling?" You nodded in a mumble. "It doesn't get better, but we learn to deal with it better, I think." You laughed again, with more enthusiasm, and Alex felt accomplished, feeling his own cheeks blush.

"Thank you, Mr. Turner." You said softly, closing your eyes, the phone pressed against your cheek, still hugging your pillow even tighter. His breath truly acted as a calming agent on you.

"Little one?" He noticed you were tired. "You can call me Alex if you want; there's no reason to be so formal." He felt awkward asking for that, even though the whole situation was awkward.

"Okay," you said softly, not quite able to bring yourself to say his name. The way you sounded thoughtful even with such a small word made Alex chuckle quietly in a discreet way. You were so adorable in his eyes.

Silence took over, in the same warm and familiar tone as throughout the call. You began to smell his scent on your sheets and remembered lying there with his blazer before, although for now, it was likely just a figment of your imagination. But it felt so real; you were really drowsy from sleep.

"Turner?" He murmured to let you know he was still there, finding the evolution of you avoiding "mister" quite sweet, as it made him feel less old compared to you than he actually was.

"I've been writing different works; I'd like you to take a look. I like it when you assist me without taking away my freedom." He ran his hand over his abdomen, his body warm, and he felt guilty once again for pulling you into this with him, even if that was your will too.

"I'd love to. I'm free tomorrow if you want to come over." It sounded subtle and right. Neither of you could tell if it was the effect of sleep, but he liked the idea of having you at his house again and being able to talk to you outside the academic environment. You took a while to respond, and he almost took back his earlier words.

"Is it not a problem?" Your mind went back to how he could have someone who was his person.

"No," he said, not sounding pensive, but he was wondering if someone important at the university found out it could give you problems. He knew it wasn't right for him, but he didn't care as much about what could happen to him; you had more to lose than he did, you were at the beginning of your academic career, and he wouldn't do that to you. "Do you think it could be a problem for you?"

You denied it, realizing you needed to speak for him to know the answer. "No, I think it's a good idea," you concluded, deciding that you would make the most of it, whatever it was. It was the first time you felt attracted - you liked him, you were a bit obsessed, you were afraid - and you were almost certain he felt the same way, and you didn't want to waste it.

After a few short minutes, you continued, "I love the way you write about being in love, as if there's only room for that one person in your head, and nothing else matters. I hope that if someone ever falls in love with me, it's at least 10% of how you describe that feeling." He knew you read his publications, yet he felt a delightful warmth, like receiving a handwritten note from your middle school crush confessing the same feelings. He appreciated your work, and your appreciation of his made him feel great. "Maybe I'm too busy being yours to fall for somebody new? I won't settle for anything less." Although Alex had written this a while ago, he found himself contemplating how well it matched what he felt for you.

You couldn't find more words, but both of you could sense each other's presence, the subtle laughter, and the soft breaths. Words weren't the sole means of communication; you both comprehended the situation and willingly let things progress at their own tempo. With this feeling of ease, you slipped into a peaceful and rejuvenating slumber, so unaware of it.

A few before this, he commented about needing to dispose of the ashes and the ashtray, and your face brightened in the darkness upon realizing you were right. He was smoking this whole time. Once you drifted off to sleep, Alex allowed himself to do the same, filled with the assurance that you were safe.

…

Your gaze appeared distant, and your fingers, on the verge of digging into your arm's skin due to impatience, twitched nervously. You leaned against the wall, seeking to evade the curious glances of passersby, well aware that your tension was conspicuously written across your features.

"Hey, what happened?" His voice carried deep concern, and as his gaze met yours, you couldn't help but fear that someone had issued a threat you were blissfully unaware of. He didn't hesitate, closing the gap between you, his proximity sending shivers down your spine. He was clearly worried.

It took a moment for you to find yourself as you briskly navigated the corridor leading to the reception desk, anxiety clutching at your chest.

"They're having issues with my documents, for dear God. I need them to apply to some campus. I did everything correctly, notified them of my need for these documents, and I'm still well within the deadline…" Your voice trailed off, caught in the charged atmosphere, your mind aflame.

His gaze remained steady upon you, his countenance markedly soothed now that your anxiety had heightened the stakes of the situation. He adjusted the bag slung over his shoulder and extended a reassuring touch, his fingertips coming to rest gently upon your hand.

Moistening his lips and making that soft, almost playful sound one uses to capture a cat's attention, you couldn't help but release a small, albeit apprehensive chuckle, providing relief to both you and Mr Turner; he was doing well.

His presence, grounding and reassuring, helped to temper your nerves. He remained with you until your breathing found its way back to the present.

Glancing around, his eyes found no one in close proximity. He dipped his head slightly to align himself with your level, a tremor of emotion causing your cheeks to twitch. His face and the tip of his nose were red.

Running his fingers softly across your cheek, he offered you a warm smile despite your obvious reluctance stemming from the absence of his hand in yours.

"It's alright. Everything's going to be just fine, little one." His voice gradually dissolved your anxiety and the gripping sensation in your chest. He brought his fingers to his lips, tenderly kissing them before tracing their path back to your face.

First, he lightly pressed against your forehead, then your nose, and finally your cheek before his hands slid back into his pockets.

Unbidden, the thought crossed your mind that he would've kissed your tears away, a gesture of comfort he was undoubtedly willing to extend, if only the circumstances allowed. And then your mind ached at the brief reminder that you had woken up in the double bed in his room that night.

His laughter filled the space, eyes glistening with warmth, and the wrinkles around them adding to his features. In that moment, you fervently wished he could be yours, even as your self-awareness acknowledged the depth of your feelings.

"Where do you intend to apply?" Your gaze descended to his chest, buttons undone, and a gleaming chain vying for your touch.

"Huh, I... I plan to apply to a university in California. That's the crucial one, although I'll be submitting applications to others as well. Missing this deadline is simply not an option."

He nodded in understanding, skillfully alleviating the awkwardness you felt over your hesitant words. You remained unaccustomed to the unwavering attention he directed your way, where your words and actions seemed to bear a significant weight. He made you feel noticed and appreciated, you liked that.

"Give me a few minutes, and I'll be right back."

That said, he didn't take long to re-enter the room you had left about 40 minutes earlier and resolve your issue. He emerged with a furrowed brow, the self-assured smile gradually returning to his lips as he made his way back to you. It almost felt unfair how swiftly he had solved the problem, but then you remembered that he wasn't known for his friendliness to everyone. You imagined the firmness in his voice and expression as he demanded to know the whereabouts of your documents from whomever happened to be present. A sense of relief washed over you as he asked if this was what you needed and handed you the envelope. With a quick glance inside, you confirmed that your documents were indeed there.

He seemed genuinely pleased to have been able to help, but you didn't quite notice. Your reaction was instinctual as you rose on your tiptoes and let your body collapse onto his, your arms wrapping around his neck and pulling him close. He took a deep breath, unprepared for this, but he managed to keep his bag from slipping off his shoulder and circled his arm securely around you. His nose brushed against your hair, and he hoped your scent would linger on his clothes for at least a few more minutes.

It was brief, both aware of the potential consequences of this closeness. You apologized, although a smile remained on your face. He could have frozen that moment in reality, gazing at you for hours, your short shirt rumpled from your previous touch, knee socks slightly disheveled inside your tall boots, while you clung to the documents he had just retrieved. The silence wasn't uncomfortable; it was evident how you found comfort in each other's presence. And he easily concluded that you suited California.

"I need to go," he said, his thoughts consumed with the image of you sitting in his classroom in a few hours and potentially at his home later if you hadn't changed your mind. He didn't want to bring it up, wanting the decision to be entirely yours. If you decided not to show up, he'd understand, and you knew that. You appreciated the pressure he removed from you. His desires were quite evident, and even though you still needed to address the matter of the photo in his room, his intentions were anything but unclear.

…

On that day, you sat a few desks behind due to the front-row seat's creaking issue. Every time he entered the room, your attention soared. You enjoyed admiring how he placed his brown bag on the desk, neatly rolled up his sleeves to the elbows, and adjusted his blazer before starting the class. However, you noticed how his eyes searched for you before initiating this ritual, his face stern and composed, his hand tracing his jaw until he reached the spot where he found you, a few desks back. Your radiant smile met his timid one, and your hands fidgeted with your skirt. At that moment, you both knew that neither of you concealed your feelings well. It was evident in the softening of his expression upon finding you and the shy smile that curved his lips; with crooked lower teeth and cute prominent lines. It warmed your heart.

The following minutes went as expected, with your heart racing when he addressed you, and he posed questions that he was confident you could answer or raise thought-provoking ones. You remained addicted to gaining his favor, even though you no longer needed it. There was no doubt you were his favorite one.

"I think that's enough for today," he murmured, dismissing the others, which included you. Yet, you hesitated to pack your things and leave. You wanted to show him that you still intended to meet him later, fearful that he might think otherwise.

Initiating the conversation didn't come naturally. You leaned against the closed door, observing him tidy up the last of his belongings. You felt uneasy, and he sported a self-assured smile. He was yours, soon you'd gradually become aware of it.

"It's okay, little one. We can stay in silence," he offered, approaching you. Your nervousness was palpable, and you couldn't even contemplate forming words. "There's no one on the other side of the door," he reassured, peering through the small glass window. "I wouldn't force or manipulate you into anything you don't want to do." He was cautious, but the idea that he thought you might think of him like that made you shake your head vigorously.

"I know you wouldn't, Professor Turner." His nose wrinkled slightly as you insisted on calling him that. His cheeks gained color, and you loved that.

You pushed your hair back, trying to clear your head. "I just wanted to confirm that you still want to see me tonight, and also to say thank you for helping me after the bar incident. I don't want you to think badly of me. I—" You paused, swallowing hard. Dry throat, just like your eyes, which couldn't stop blinking. His attention was fully on you, and it didn't help. Seeing your struggle, he moved closer, gently removing your hand from your hair. He whispered while still close, "I don't think anything bad 'bout you, and I'll still be waiting for you if you want to be there."

You nodded, your eyes lost in his, feeling as if you could almost touch his skin without making physical contact. Your hand involuntarily touched the collar of his shirt, your palm pressing awkwardly against his chest, feeling the warmth of his body beneath the coolness of his necklace. His fingers followed yours, resting on top of your hand with a pleasant size contrast. Your touch affected his body in ways you couldn't fully fathom, but he was better at concealing it. Your mind briefly entertained the idea of his lips brushing against yours, but this thought was soon supplanted by a lingering kiss to your forehead. Your chest met his as in an embrace, and it lasted long enough for you to feel his fingers below your knee, lifting your high socks until they were even with the other. It sent a great burn through your thigh and made you want to keep him close, but then he was stepping away. "I just want you to feel comfortable with me, pet." Your words once again choked in your throat. You wanted to hear him say he wanted you, but you refrained from vocalizing it, and you understood, but you still longed to hear it from him. Just as you wanted to shout that you felt good with him, despite being a novice in matters of the heart.

…

In your imagination, Professor Turner was someone who didn't shy away from the daylight, and you believed he was just that, even though it was amusing to picture a darker side to him that other students described. When you told your roommate that you wouldn't be back that day, and she suspected it might be related to him, you received a playful, "Take care, don't let him pull you to the dark side." It made you laugh and think about how some of your classmates had asked you to talk to Alex about his grading approach because they had noticed his fondness for you and were in desperate need of a miracle. You didn't think your intervention would change anything, but your curiosity would lead you to take the risk.

The air felt trapped in your lungs, and there was still an alert in your mind that being there was wrong. Students were gossips (your friend even more so), if he had someone, you would know, right?

"I thought you might be hungry," he gestured for you to enter. The same calm and gentleness that always characterized his demeanor toward you, as your roommate had reminded you over the phone just minutes ago. Your mouth quivered, and your hands turned cold as he looked at you. His expression was meticulous, as if trying to read every one of your signals. The sensation within you intensified as you adjusted your knee socks, and his attention followed you until he realized how his hands clenched around nothing. This time, it was you who laughed.

"I wish I could say you don't have to pay for things for me, but honestly, I wouldn't have had the money to come here," you explained, with more than a hint that you might be less financially stable than him. The age difference still nagged at your mind, but you had promised yourself to make the most of this situation. He had covered the Uber ride, just like last time, and now you felt guilty about him spending money on your meal, even though you found it adorable.

He was flushed, certainly not from embarrassment. "It's okay, I don't mind. I want you 'ere." It sounded so formal and yet so natural of him, it made you wonder if he did this often; seduce their own students. It was quite a torment for you to add to your worries, had he ever done that before? And why were you bothered by that? Why did you want to be the only one who had ever gone through this with him?

You only realized that you were standing there staring at him when you felt his hand lightly press your back and guide you to the living room. There were sheets and pillows on the wooden floor rug and the light was dim. He had thought about that and it made your cheeks hot, you were unable to contain a smile. Before sitting down, he took your bag off your shoulders and murmured, "Your thoughts are quite noisy, little one."

He sat next to you, his shoulders pressed against yours. Your legs stretched out and your uncontrollable fingers played with the hem of your socks. You kept your eyes on the orange colored juice and some bread, your belly emptying and your head becoming fuller. “I just,” you looked at him, his messy hair and tired look but still giving you all the appreciation. "I'm not used to it, I guess."

"I'm not sure if it helps you either, but, I'm not, I'm not in the habit of bringing students to my house. You're the first one." You smiled, the weight of your body joining him. Alex noticed you becoming more comfortable and brought his hand closer to yours, then you rested your palm in his; bringing your fingers over the veins and calluses on his fingertips. You bit your lip at the thought of him actually playing the guitars in his room. And then you felt heavy once again at the thought that you wouldn't be able to be present in the moment with him if you didn't know if he had someone else.

You were careful to pull your hands away from his, stealing a piece of bread and pouring yourself some juice. His gaze on you was unmistakable, hard to ignore. Even though you enjoyed it, you felt like you were caught doing something bad.

"You can talk to me," he said, nothing but reassuring. "The last thing I want is to make you uncomfortable." And he didn't, it was in your head, and deep down you knew it.

As the orange, viscous liquid touched your lips, you noticed his flushed cheeks going harder, even though he remained confident. It was the same Mango and Passion Fruit blend you had at the campus bar. Your face lit up with a smile, and he wished it could always be like this. "This is almost an obsession." He laughed too, relieved that you didn't think he was crazy for it.

He had indeed asked in the following days what that drink was, and he had learned that you always ordered that, he was just trying to make you comfortable around him. Little did he know that it didn't take much. "I swear my intentions were for the best," he concluded to have succeeded as he held your gaze for a little longer, and then your head rested on his shoulder. Your arm was lazy at first but within minutes, it was around his waist, brushing the top of his pants and then pulling your body closer. You felt the scents mingling, and your head grew lighter. He kissed your forehead, and you closed your eyes, savoring the feeling. Silence was indeed a great friend of yours, something you both cherished.

"Do you have someone?" You weren't as confident as you'd like to be, though you thought the answer was no, you still feared the response. He held your chin close to his, so near that you could see the scar near his eye and the more expressive fine lines. A tear threatened to escape as he appeared puzzled. You didn't like letting him think that you thought ill of him, but you couldn't move forward without answers. "Please, say you don't." Your voice faltered.

He ran his fingers over your face, letting his forehead rest against yours. He definitely didn't like seeing you upset. "I don't have anyone romantically," he chuckled softly, finding it attractive how you nestled into his touch. Even though you were uncertain, you wanted to hear it from him first, and he found that so mature of you. He felt guilty for thinking of it that way, as a warning that this wasn't entirely right.

You nodded, your heavy gaze fixed on him, and yet he stayed with you. "But what 'bout the girl in the photo in your room and the double bed..." Your body tensed, your face pliable in his hands.

Alex felt the weight of it and wanted the words to sound painless for you. It wasn't your fault, and there was an easy explanation; it was a concrete and unchangeable situation, only painful. He held you close when he saw the tears welling up in your eyes, with just the right amount of strength, and his chest ached as his own vision welled up. "I don't have her anymore, not anymore," and with that, you understood. His gaze and his voice, the tone of affection, you didn't feel jealous, and in a way, you understood.

Your response was to cradle his cheeks and kiss his face, not liking to see him sad gave you the courage you'd been seeking all along. His arms enveloped you, a subtle embrace, his nose brushing against your thin top, your bodies aligning inch by inch. It felt right, and it didn't seem so wrong anymore.

He chuckled against your neck, lacking much humor. "It's been a while, I'm not trying to replace her or anything." His hand traced his eyes, and you nodded in understanding. You didn't sense that from him. "It's okay, I just didn't expect that and got scared." You whispered, letting your nose touch his while his forehead sweet bangs tickled you. Soon, your fingers were lightly tugging at the nape of his neck, and he didn't avoid your gaze; he only seemed upset about worrying you. Your lips brushed his eyes, tasting the saltiness, making you feel compassionate.

Nevertheless, you let your lips touch his, soft and warm, drawing out a lingering sigh. His grip tightened around you, and with that, your hands went from entwining his collar to pulling him closer, as if you could make it better; you wanted to make him feel great.

He solemnly withdrew from you, keeping you close while planting kisses on your face as he did so. As he pulled back, you realized that your senses were more attuned to him than to yourself. You couldn't pinpoint at what moment during all this you ended up in his lap. You didn't feel bad about it, but you still felt like you should.

"I'm sorry," you began, but he didn't let you pull away from him. He didn't need to explain, but he did it anyway. "I stay 'ere to teach, not because of her. I loved her, and I probably still would, but I'm not bound to her in any way, or sustained by being in love with someone I won't see anymore. I just don't see myself forgetting her entirely after years as if nothing had happened, just as I don't want to make you think this distances me from you or makes you believe I'm trying to replace her with someone else." He was precise, his voice trembling like never before. The coherence as something he had planned to say before hurt you; he wanted to say it but avoided it, and you didn't blame him. "I just want you to know these things." Your response was to hug him, craving the ability to merge with his body. It was dramatic, but you wanted to take some of that weight off him. His broader back, along with the embrace, covered you entirely, and you could feel his breathing calming as your thighs and arms clung to him.

With your head feeling lighter, your face nestled deeper into his chest. Your nose brushed against his neck, his warmth matching yours. The roughness of his baby beard made you smile into nothing. You could swear you felt him shiver. He kissed your face, his lips finding every space from your mouth to your neck, and your jolly reaction was to pull him closer by his t-shirt's collar. Your body burned, in a comforting way, and before falling asleep with him enveloped in you, you thought about how you should have done more or even asked for more. You no longer felt hesitant towards him.

…

Your eyes slowly opened, the lighting still cozy, just like the feeling of his chest. He held you tightly, his chin nestled on the top of your head, making you feel whole as one. As you shifted in his lap, you wanted to squeeze him, feel the flesh of his waist, and unbutton more of his shirt to accommodate your hand. You needed to take a deep breath, unable to avoid the initial sweat on your forehead. He let out a sigh, his fingers tracing your back and holding you as you bit your lip to hide a smile. His dark circles were more pronounced, his skin softer, although his eyes slightly puffy. You snuggled back into him, and he accommodated you, sealing the moment with more kisses.

"I'm sorry, Turner," the muffled laughter left you happy too, not that you weren't already. You ran your wrist over his mouth, he was still fixated on every part of you. In truth, you might not have known what you were doing, or you were just nervous. You didn't want to disappoint him.

"It's okay," he ran his fingers in circles on your waist. Your skirt crept up, and the position improved as he leaned against the wall. You could feel him better, every inch of him, and the thought that you were arousing him made you tense up a bit, even though it was good. He noticed and held your face, his lips touching where you had just tried to dry because you forgot you needed to breathe through your nose when kissing someone, "Hey, it's okay, lil' one. We don't have to do anything you don't want. I like you being with you."

You took his neck, your lips soft and moist, albeit timid against his skin, making him release adorable sounds that made you want more. This caused you to grip onto him, your hips moving closer to his, and you wished he would touch you, even if just for the mere thrill of feeling him.

"Please," you sighed, his face pressed against yours. Your fingers toyed with the closed buttons of his t-shirt as you shifted your gaze to your hands. Alex understood that you weren't entirely sure about what you were asking for, and this sweetly confirmed how much he considered you nothing but a good girl. It was evident that you wanted to be wonderful for him, and it was adorable to see in your eyes how you were eagerly waiting for him to lead the way in this dance of desire.

"I'm all yours, princess." He concluded with a mixture of pet names that both disconcerted and melted you into him. You took a deep breath as the pressure of his large hands adjusted your hips, your knees slightly burning, but you couldn't help but create the necessary friction to feel him better. You could indeed feel all of him, from the light fabric of his dress pants to the zipper, hitting you perfectly. "I know, little one, you're doing so great," he praised, mesmerized by how you lightly closed your eyes and then opened them to him, and he nodded in agreement, acknowledging your success. It was attractive to see you feeling secure and knowing how to make yourself feel good. With your hands still held against him, he intertwined his fingers with yours, allowing the remaining buttons to be undone, and then your palm found its place into his flesh.

He held you tighter, your body against his. "Don't move both together, use your legs or just grind against me, or you'll get tired quickly," he sounded precise, his deep and raspy voice filling you up. You obeyed. "That's my good girl," he said in a husky growl. This effectively worked to keep you going with him. His fingers gripped your nape, pulling your head to look at him, gazing down at your sleepy and pleading look. He clenched his jaw, sure that he could surrender for so little. His lips landed on your neck, his nose burying into your skin, so soon his teeth were pulling you into a light and pleasurable bite.

And then you were his, his hands working on you better than your legs were trying but failing to reach that level. Soon, he removed your top with the same gentleness and urgency with which he pulled you to him just to devour your breasts. His grip traveled to your waist, his tongue tracing the sensitive skin, encircling how hard they were and sucking them into his mouth as if it was genuinely pleasurable for him. The tip of his nose brushed against your skin, and he caused pain by nibbling on the flesh ready for him to take. You found yourself liking how every sound you made was heard by him, and he understood every nuance to repeat or intensify whatever he was doing to you.

You fit him well; being with him and having him wrapped around you made you feel confident. You had been embarrassed to be so spontaneous with someone before, but with him, it was different. His calm presence over you, the tranquility and affection, as well as the satisfaction in his eyes and touch when he saw you well, made you want more and more of him and to surrender yourself to him even more.

"You're so delicious," and he meant it. He squeezed you tightly, and you were worried you might have marks afterward. In a way, you liked it; you wanted to see him sprawled over you when it was all over.

And at all times he paid attention to your high socks, fixing them in the right place and smoothing them so they wouldn't move from where they were; keeping them pretty on yourself.

To soothe your whimper, he nestled his thumb against your clit, adjusting his movements until it felt like it was working for you. Alex was flushed, and you wanted to capture the look he was giving you. He didn't feel entirely guilty, but something weighed on him, as if he were corrupting you; the sensation wasn't bad at all. He pulled the flimsy fabric upwards, giving you more traction, lightly laughing at the pastel color and the central bow, knowing that it would haunt his mind for many days to come when he was feeling drowsy. It was magnificent, every detail of you, and he marveled at having your tired and prolonged sighs and teary eyes, just as he always thought they would be when your weak body collapsed onto his in such adorable spasms.

…

Your body ached, but the electricity in you felt good. Your hands ran clumsily through the pleasurable haze. He placed his lips on your forehead, lingering there until your body melded to his like a magnet. "I need to go, but I don't mind if you stay 'ere, lil' one," he sounded even better after waking up, husky and lazy, yet strong. Gradually, you became aware of the fact that you were in his bed, wearing the button-up shirt that you admired on his body. You smelled like him. You remembered him covering you with it, draping your figure while he kissed your collarbone gently. You were so drowsy that you were so certain it had been a dream.

"Go where?" You asked absently, looking around. He pulled up your socks, your legs entwining with his beneath the sheets. He loved this, wanted to have you there forever. You slept so serenely, comforted by his touch, and he thought about leaving you there. But he remembered how scared you had been at the idea of him leaving without notice the night he took you from the bar. He didn't want to cause that in you again, especially knowing he wouldn't be there when you woke up. "I have to teach in the morning, but I'll be back in the afternoon. I don't mind if you stay 'ere if you want."

"And do you want me to stay?" Your lips quivered; you understood his careful approach to your desires, but you wanted to hear it from him without reservations.

"I want you to stay, very much. I still need to read your new work, and I want to hear more from you." Your smile widened, and your face met his neck. He stroked your hair, keeping you close. You had almost forgotten that you had tucked prints of your writings into your bag to leave with him, or to have him read while you waited for his shrewd criticisms. You didn't care as much anymore; you wanted to hear him. You wanted to hear everything he had to say about you, whatever it may be. This thought, combined with the reminder that he preferred printed works over email submissions, made you beam more against him. He pulled you close, looking at you curiously.

"Okay, I can stay here, old man. It's good that I can finish reading the book you gave me." His cheeks flushed, and he got up, making you laugh more and grumble in disapproval. Alex didn't make a fuss and went to the wardrobe, putting on a clean t-shirt and taking off the pants he had worn earlier. He was serene, and he didn't mind you watching, your calm eyes on him, unraveling with each visible patch of skin. You wanted to scream about how everything in you wished this could be your routine. When you looked around, the photo was no longer there, and it didn't seem strange. In fact, you didn't feel jealous of it. However, knowing that he had put it away in another place made you feel good. You thought you might ask him more about it soon; she was important to Alex, and you understood and respected that. You thought it was only fair for him to know you didn't think badly of it.

"Promise you won't be too harsh when reading my stuff?" The buttons were still opened when he turned to you, his eyebrow arched, and his chocolate-colored eyes sparkling.

"I'm not cruel," you huffed, making him suppress a sly smile. "At least not with you." Your cheeks burned. He went into the bathroom, leaving the door open as he grabbed his toothbrush. You followed, sitting beside him on the large sink, attentive to him.

"You know, they told me to ask you to go easier on the students, at least in my class. They all seem to think you're pretty tough," you mentioned.

He chuckled. You liked this, it was intimate and comfortable. His hair was messy, and his shirt was slightly wrinkled; he was perfect. He wiped his mouth and kept his brows tense, "I'm not; the world is just not as perfect as most of you believe, and not everyone is as good as you." He was such a cute old bastard. You arched your brows, mimicking the expression he often made, and he laughed, softening for you. "I won't harm anyone; I just think lower grades make you all work harder." He clarified, placing himself between your legs, and you soon enclosed him in your embrace.

"That's cruel and unfair, Professor Turner." He kissed your face, seeing that it bothered you more than you pretended it did. "You don't have to agree with me, pet."

"And I don't." You sounded more irritated, and he liked that. "It's not very fair."

He laughed, nodding. "Well, know that I'm not going to change." You shook your head but stayed there. You pulled him closer, buttoning up the shirt just as he did, and then folding the cuffs as you had noticed he liked to leave them. He enjoyed that with a great goofy smile.

Briefly, his mind wandered to how he didn't have another place besides there. He might have already renewed the campus contract and then planned for another season in Europe. But for the first time in a long time, he found himself questioning that decision. He could go to other places if he wanted; his qualifications allowed him to move beyond where he was. Basically, all it took was his own mind. So he thought about postponing the decision of whether to renew or not. Things might change.

"Turner, aren't you going to be late?" He snapped back to reality, kissing your lips before he actually heard everything you said. His fingers played with the elastic of your knee socks, tugging gently and then letting go, causing you to gasp in pain against his mouth. "It's funny how you want to punish your students but don't even care about arriving on time." You narrowed your eyes, trying to sound intimidating, but your breath gave you away quite well. "You look beautiful like this." He ignored the irony and felt your legs tighten around him. "In my shirt, princess," he whispered between lip nibbles, amused at how easy it was to leave you speechless. He lifted your hips from the sink, aligning your body better with his.

"I want to feel you, taste you on tongue, princess, is that okay?" His nose brushed your face, trying to soothe you as his hands roamed around you, feeling you tense with nervousness. He loved that. Your lips touched his, with wetter and more intense kisses, and you felt silly when you realized from the way he was smiling that he wasn't talking about that. You swallowed hard and nodded. "I just won't know what to do," you said, feeling dizzy as you held your breath. "Don't do anything," his hands comforted your body, and you leaned in so that he could remove the damp fabric from under his (yours) shirt. "Just relax, don't think 'bout it for now." You agreed, eagerly watching him kneel in front of you.

You did as he said, settling in more comfortably and following his eyes as he spread your legs, playing slowly with your socks before slipping your legs over his shoulders. He kissed the inside of your thigh, his nose diving into the area, and then his teeth nibbled the skin as you gasped. He chuckled with delight. "Are you going to teach me how to make you feel good too, Mr. Turner?" He couldn't resist your sweet voice. He nodded, giving a kiss to your center, your flesh glistening in anticipation. "I'll do whatever you want me to do, princess." And then that new, wet, and firm sensation invaded you, your eyes closed, your lips parted in a brief, silent sigh. Your breasts were highlighted in the white t-shirt, so hard that they were attractive to Alex's gaze from time to time.

Your fingers clutched his dark hair, while his eyes remained closed right after taking a great look at you, and he released such a beautiful prolonged, satisfied groan. The taste made him a little dizzy, but he loved every second of it. "You're divine, did you know that?" You couldn't respond anymore; his nose caressed you, and his fingertips marked your delicate skin. He liked the time he was taking; it was nothing more than his tongue, and he relished the sensation of exploring you slowly. You also liked it, and that was enough for him. He could feel his chin wet and his breath falter, but he couldn't stop even if he wanted to. "Don't stop, please." And all you heard was the hum of his confident laughter against you, along with the recent texture of the beard growing, while you only thought about making it easier for him as you spread yourself further and fully surrendered to him. You just knew you would feel the same way tasting him on your lips and tongue.

...

taglist: @ohladymoon @indierockgirrl @bloo-wisteria @bellaturner @cosmoschaotic @nikisfwn @andrews-lovr @nela-cutie @artimonkii @alexturnersbbg3 @blackberryblossom @lilmisssweetdreams @alexshotelandcasino @tbhclove @rostarblog @babieswiftie @yourstartreatment @atticssmellgood @aacheinthejaw @mingods

tagged only for teacher's pet (the one who asked for and people who asked for the part2) : @thenightslikeawhiirlwind @missbabyjay @kayla1717 @ladydraculasthings @tyatthiapoewy @depthhell @hvncae @raven-ql @kittyrob0t @jakethsims @mayaawesome10 @michelleisheres-blog @love-me-until-ilove-myself @est3va @viviannagiorgini

google forms!¡ (taglist)

Let me know if something is wrong or if you're not comfortable!

Also, I'm taking thoughts/ideas for part3 (it'll be the last one, I promise!)

#alex turner #alex turner x reader #alex turner smut #alex turner x y/n #arctic monkeys #alex turner fanfic #alex turner x you #alex turner imagine #fanfic

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gallawitchxx · 3 days

Note

hi beeee!! i hope you're doing okay 💖💖💖

ooohohohoho okay for the kiss thingy: god knows why cuz it sounds potentially very painful but i feel so compelled to request 28 🙏

sweet deanna! i'm hanging in, thanks love! 💖 so you & @lingy910y both requested #28 & i want to fill both of your prompts. but because you were (rightfully) afraid of pain, i gave you one that's a bit strange, but has a promisingly happy ending? you can be the judge! xx

- - - - -

send me a number & i'll write you a smoocheroo 😚

- - - - -

#28: ...as a lie ps. this is inspired by this post about dealer!mickey & insomniac!ian, who have now rotted my brain.

Ian hasn’t slept in days.

It’s happened before—endless energy is one of his tried-and-true symptoms of mania—but this isn’t that. He’s taking his meds, his skin isn’t crawling and his mind is fairly quiet. Quiet enough to frustrate him as he tosses and turns and wonders what the fuck’s going on.

His schedule has been all over the place lately; his normal routine lost to the endless cycles of employment and Gallagher family responsibilities. He’d been hoping to add school to the mix this semester so that he could have other, less hectic options than a rig-riding EMT, but he’d pushed it off. A pity, now that all-nighters are apparently his thing.

Night two, he googles a few things, which is a huge mistake. Who can fall asleep after reading about how even just twenty-four hours without sleep can begin to derail your bodily systems? Sleep deprivation can cause or worsen conditions like Type 2 diabetes, High blood pressure, Stroke, Heart attack—his pulse leaps as his phone clatters to the ground.

Night three, he takes to the streets, running around the Southside until his lungs burn and his knees wobble. As he passes the clinic that gave his seventeen-year-old self a lifetime prescription for antipsychotics, he knows that if this lasts much longer, he should call his doctor. Tell them his nighttime meds aren’t putting him to sleep anymore. Nip this insomnia thing in the bud before it can overthrow the delicate balance he’s worked so hard to maintain.

Night four, desperate and a bit delusion, he pulls up a number he hasn’t used in years, saved under a contact labeled, DO NOT TEXT.

He breaks his own rule: Hey. Still making house calls?

The response is almost immediate: the fuck u care for?

Ian rolls his bloodshot eyes, typing: It’s an emergency.

Three little dots herald a response that makes him laugh: a weed emergency?

He stays strong: Wouldn’t ask if I didn’t need it.

The next text makes his chest clench: u ok?

He decides to keep it vague—I can’t sleep, but it’s not what you think.—and hopes he doesn’t have to explain further and is relieved to read: u want ur usual?

Another clench: Indica

Two texts arrive in rapid succession: what else do u want? can i give u head while u smoke or no?

There it is: the reason Ian doesn’t use this number anymore.

Maybe in another life it would be a blessing to have a weed dealer to lovers arc with your childhood crush, but in this one, it was a curse. A curse that lasted almost a whole year, bringing with it an endless bouquet of blissful fucks and free weed, and a million moments of tenderness Ian knew nobody else was getting out of the guy. A curse that eventually came to collect payment in the form of bloodied knuckles, broken hearts and ego wounds. A curse that still clings to Ian’s psyche, filling his dreams with gentle, tattooed fingers and bright blue eyes and a sweet and savory scent that can only be described as Mickey.

Mickey, now DO NOT TEXT.

On second thought, maybe he should never sleep again.

The knock at the door makes him hard—a Pavlovian response that irks him more than the three sleepless nights he’s suffered so far. Three raps, one right after the other. The last one no more than a brush of his hand.

Ian adjusts himself and answers the door.

Fuck, one look at that smug asshole and he’s immediately right back in it. Lust and like and maybe even a little bit of reckless fucking love fill his body, rising to the surface like sweet cream. A layer of fat on the roof of one’s mouth; a treat to lick later, a reminder that they didn’t end things because they weren’t insanely hot for one another and potentially soulmates. They were just idiots. Stubborn, petty dicks.

Oh Pride, the great slayer of men.

Jesus, he needs to sleep.

“First one’s on the house,” Mickey says as he crosses the threshold, a joint held tightly between C and K.

Hours slip by. They laugh, they smoke. It feels like old times. Ian’s body is loose in a way it hasn’t been in years. It feels good. Like maybe-he-could-sleep-tonight good. And as he melts further into the couch, he starts to get a little horny too. Because Mickey’s yapping on and on about some asshole that frequents the bar he works at, and Ian’s listening, he swears he’s listening, but he’s also staring at Mickey’s mouth like he wants to take Mickey up on that text message and shut him the fuck up with his dick.

Like he wants to taste the stale smoke of his tongue.

Wants him to stay the night.

Forever, maybe.

Mickey finishes his story. His eyes go soft and he drums his fingers against his knee. “Should get outta your hair, Gallagher,” he says. “Letcha sleep.”

That’s the last thing Ian wants.

“Not tired,” he fibs.

Mickey cocks an eyebrow. “You’re not? ’S been days, man. This shit’s gotta be hittin’ ya by now.”

It’s true. It has been days and this shit is hitting him. Or maybe he’s having a sleep-deprivation-induced stroke. He just knows Mickey can’t go.

“Can’t go to sleep without a goodnight kiss.”

Mickey’s already leaning in when he asks, “Then you promise you’ll hit the hay?”

Ian nods as Mickey presses a kiss to his lying lips.

#welp - throws whatever this is at you #alskfjalkj #i realized that both of my kisses are at the very end of the ficlet & aren't actually described #lolol #maybe my next attempt should be 1K words of just describing the kiss #no actual context needed #just tongues #anyway THANKS DEANNA I LOVE YOU DEANNA #shameless #shameless fanfiction #prompt fill #ian x mickey

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thewolvesof1998 · 3 months

Note

Hi Wolf 💕💕💕

3 for Spotify wrapped writing prompts

Hi Saturn!!

Sorry this has been sitting in my drafts for so long, I was hoping to eventually add to it but I think if I do, it will be a while down the line so I might as well give you this snippet now!

This is from the Spotify wrapped writing prompts thingy.

So number three is Stick Season by Noah Kahan!

This snippet was inspired by:

And I'll dream each night of some version of you That I might not have, but I did not lose ... And I'm split in half, but that'll have to do My other half was you I hope this pain's just passin' through But I doubt it

“I couldn’t look at you, you were lying there with that tube in, and all I could think about is Shannon.”

“I’m not your dead wife,” Eddie flinches, Buck continues, “You-you made that perfectly clear.”

“No-no that’s not, I just…” Eddie trails off, his thoughts running a hundred mph making it hard to find the right words.

“Eddie, what are you trying to say?” Buck asks, sounding so defeated and heartbroken and Eddie did that. He needs to fix that.

“Chris can’t lose someone else.”

“Don’t.” Buck stands up, anger radiating off of him so quickly it steals his breath. Buck finger points at Eddie like he’s cursing him, “Don’t bring him into this, you know I would never leave him.”

“I know-I’m sorry-I” He runs a hand through his hair, unable to look at him, “I never been good at words.”

Buck snorts, “You don’t say.”

“Buck please, I’m trying to say we," he shakes his head, "I…I...” But the words won’t come out, caught somewhere between his heart and his vocal cords. His mouth opens and closes god knows how many times but the silence between them stretched out. He sees the final shred of hope fade from Buck’s blue eyes.

Buck makes a dismissive sound but in it Eddie can hear the shattering of his heart again, it’s a sound that shouldn’t be familiar but it is, “Goodbye Eddie.”

Eddie feels like he's splitting in half as he watches Buck take one step, then another and another until he's halfway to the door. Maybe this is for the best, his heart is already aching something fierce, so much so that he's struggling to breathe. This pain would be ten times worse if he'd actually ever had Buck and lost him, at least this way maybe the pain would just pass on through. But he doubts it, can feel the way his heart squeezes and splutters and tears in half as Buck steps out the door without looking back, feels the permanent marks sear into the very muscles that are keeping him alive, that with every beat he is reminded of this moment, of his failure.

Thanks for your ask!!! <3<3<3

#9-1-1 #buddie #eddie diaz #evan buckley #buddie fic #thewolvesof1998 writes

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kai-anderson-whore · 1 year

Note

Pretty please write something off of the song “ride it” by Jay Sean 😭😭😭

U can add any changes to it u need to, just pleasss😭

Sure I struggled a bit this thing one since I was cutting in-between studying I hope you like it

Ride it (smut) (kai Anderson x fem reader)

Summary: you met kai when your boyfriend broke up with you making kai a rebound.

Warnings: smut , reader riding kai, mentions of cheating.

•¤❅¤•.•°˚˚°•..•°˚˚°•.•¤❅¤•.•¤❅¤•.•°˚˚°•. .•°˚˚°

You had met kai a month and twenty days ago at a club you were there to forget you ex, playing these games with him on the rebound if you will, kai knew it was just that but he felt much more for you, the one for him you were.

...

You sat by the bar sipping your mojito your dress tight on your body hugging each curve perfectly, topping up your lip gloss often since the shine stained the glass containing your drink.

"Hey can I buy you a drink" a voice said beside you, giving him a slight bit of your attention you noticed he was good looking the kind of guy to help you get over your ex, "sure I'll have another mojito" you said with a toothy grin.

"A old fashioned and a mojito please" he said to the barman, giving the man a nod making our drinks, "I'm kai- kai Anderson" the blue haired man introduced, "y/n y/l/n" you smiled.

"You here alone?" He asked now sitting on the barstool beside you, "I wasn't I came here with my best friend but she went off with some dude" you shrugged as the bartender gave you and kai your drinks "That sucks" he chucked making you giggle.

After a few more drinks chatting with kai, Flirting with him and he was with you, eventually landing you in your home his lips on yours as you stumbled around.

....

He loved how fiesty you were, a bit of a diva, you loved to tease him telling him no when he was trying to reel you up then sending him that cheeky wink that drove im crazy as you walked away from him.

Kai sat on the sofa of the basement, his thumb grazing over your contact number contemplating on whether to call you are not, finally giving in placing the phone his ear waiting on you to answer.

"Hey kai" your voice spoke through the device making kai smile, "Hey y/n you busy?" He asked waiting on your answer, "why miss me already Anderson?" You teased with a light giggle.

"Maybe so are you?" He chuckled, "I'm not busy I'll be over in twenty minutes" you replied before handing up, fishing out a outfit and matching lingerie you always made sure to look your best for kai, there was something about him pulling you in you couldn't explain it but you liked it.

And as if it were clockwork you were outside kai's door within that twenty minutes, your knuckles knocking on the wood of the door, waiting for kai to answer.

The door pulled open revealing the man you had been seeing for the past nearly two months, it wasn't if so you were dating it was a casual hook up thing, but you were starting to have feelings for him.

"Hey" you smiled waving at him, "Hey come in" kai said moving aside allowing to enter the house, you shrugged your coat off along with your sneakers, allowing yourself to get comfortable.

"Do you want a drink or anything?" He asked you shook your head not wanting to bother him, he took a seat beside you in the basement 'his little mancave' he called it, "how was your day" he asked looking into your eyes.

"Yeah good just working away" you shrugged going on to tell him about your day, his eyes darting between your eyes and lips, till they linked with yours, his hand on the back of your neck holding you there close to him as his body pushed you down on the sofa.

Your hands went to remove his shirt, discarding it on the floor along with our own, "I want you to ride me" he instructed wasting no time you got up removing your bottoms so did kai leaving you both naked.

Straddling his thighs before sinking down on him, you both sighed in union, your hips rocked along his cock, the pleasure you were receiving making you throw your head back holding kai's chest, his eyes watching your tits bounce, his grip leaving crescent marks on your hips as he thrusted into you.

"Oh fuck kai" you moaned your legs shaking ready to give in, kai's hips snapping up harder and faster bringing you closer to that blissful ecstasy you've Been awaiting for.

Kai felt like you touched his soul whenever you were like this together he couldn't get enough of you, you always left him wanting and needing more.

"You gonna cum baby?" He asked all you could do was nod that coil in your stomach ready to snap, "use your words" he ordered.

"Please kai let me cum please" you begged unable to hold on, "let go princess" he grunted, now nearing his own release, "Oh my god kai" you almost screamed that wave hitting you like a tsunami.

Kai kept giving you hard, fast thrust chasing his own release, overstimulating you, hissing at the feeling, "Oh shit fuck" he moaned spilling his load into you.

Your body was exhausted, chest pressed against his, his hand stroking your back comforting you through the blissfulness you were in.

The next morning you were awakened by your phone ringing, checking to see who it was the number unknown to you, grabbing kai's shirt from last night answering the phone.

"Hello?"

"Y/n?" You heart dropped hearing that voice that broke you almost two months ago "what do you want" you asked in annoyance.

"I want to talk to you I miss you" your ex said "no no you don't other wise you wouldn't have FUCKING CHEATED" you shouted banging your fist againt the door, startling kai from his slumber, "it's over okay I can't take it anymore I moved on you should to" was the last thing you said hanging up and blocking the number.

Kai stood there trying to seem oblivious to what happened nonchalant, you walked up to him till he was against the door, "I know you heard but I can make you forget it all" you smirked and thats what you did.

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harunovella · 2 years

Text

so can you keep it secret? ; e.y.

synopsis: Porco Galliard hated Eren Yeager, that was a given. It was the way he looked, the way he behaved, how he carried himself... And you couldn't help but be curious about this man. Why did your step brother despise him so much? And why did it feel so good sneaking around and falling deeply for your step brother's arch nemesis?

cw: college au, female reader, minor age gap (5 years), strangers to lovers, fwb (eventual couple), car sex, thigh riding, smut, long-haired eren (goth!eren) bc that's a warning in of itself, minor blood, everyone is aged up (18+)! srry if i miss any! MDNI!

wc: 11k+

an: so my spiderman!eren au did so much better than expected (it's at 500+ notes thanks?!) and I have a few other eren stories that I had on my ao3 so I thought I'd slowly integrate them over here... enjoy and reblogs are much appreciated! xo p.s. this originally was a two parter but I squashed it together... p.s.s. i'll make a masterlist when I post more!

Eren had finally made it, he was going to finally graduate medical school and finally get his father off his back about following in his footsteps. It wasn't like Eren hated the path he was on, it just wasn't ideally the career he wanted. He had lived a life wanting to explore the world, to travel and be carefree, but then his parents reminded him that he needed an actual career with a great salary to be able to do such thing. So, as a way to keep his childish dreams from being anything but that, he decided becoming a doctor would at least give him the money he needed.

However, things didn't always go so easily.

He wasn't the lively boy he once was, things changed, life happened... and people who didn't really know him saw him in a different light. It was one of his final courses, a semester long project to get students prepared for working in dynamics with others in their field—a supposed required course for every major to take. A way to improve the social skills of this generation wherein the older ones believed they lacked due to their technological obsessions. Word for word, exactly how Eren remembered his counselor said way back when he first started his journey.

That's how he ended up paired with the only person in the entire university who couldn't stand him or his entire existence. Eren didn't seem to care about others false opinions, he never paid them any mind, after the person he'd become—which was just antisocial and goal driven—he was mistaken for a druggie, womanizer. Something he wasn't.

Sure, he had his fair number of tattoos and piercings, and he had his hair long and always hanging over his face or pulled back in a messy excuse for a bun, but that didn't mean he was a delinquent. It was just who he was. However, to Porco Galliard, that did not seem to matter. Appearances—to him—were everything. And, of course, Porco was his assigned semester long partner.

Lucky him.

Porco didn't seem to care if Eren was in the top 5% of their class—something no one expected from a expressionless man like himself. He also didn't seem to care if his father was a medical genius or that he did come from money because of said father, no, Porco always saw Eren to be beneath him. And, in all reality, Eren just didn't care for Porco either. He was a rich snob who always had to have the final word.

"Maybe he's just jealous that you're anti social and still get the ladies for having a pretty face," Sasha would tell Eren whenever he would mention Porco's childlike hatred towards him.

"Though it doesn't help that you look like a pothead manwhore," Jean would add, earning a smack on the arm from Mikasa. "What? He does! His hair and that emo vibe he gives off!"

Yet somehow everyone else saw him as just that. Something he wasn't. Sure, he had his fair share of stupidity when he was in that age between who he once was and who he had become, but that was all experimental and he didn't really like it. It wasn't something he wanted to pursue, but with the look he found to be the most... him, brought on that constant speculation. He gave up on denying it, the ones who knew the truth were the only ones that mattered anyway.

And so did you.

At least, eventually, you would learn.

Eren could remember that day as if it were yesterday. The day he first met you.

The moment he had arrived at Porco's home to begin their semester long project. How he entered without receiving a hello from the dirty blond, how said man left him to his defenses as he went to use the bathroom. Eren stood at the doorway with his hands deep in the pockets of his jacket, eyeing the surrounding home. It was well furnished, minimal frames lingering about, a two story townhome Porco managed to afford on his own. Or, at least, Eren recalled him mentioning when he had eavesdropped on a conversation. However, as Eren walked further into the home and spotted the tiny backyard, a young woman was crouched tending to a small garden.

He couldn't recall Porco having a sibling or someone he lived with, or maybe he just didn't care in the moment to remember. His head tilted at the sight, eyeing her as she watered the flower bed, a bucket hat on her head, and a sundress snug to her body. Sandle cladded feet digging into the dirt as she smiled to herself.

It was you. He hadn't known who you were, but he had recognized your face from one of the photos he had passed by earlier. You stood up and brushed some loose strands (that slipped your braid) behind your ear. Were you Porco's sister? Girlfriend? No... The one thing Eren did remember was that Porco and Pieck Finger had a thing. Or, rumored to have.

Watching you as you reached for your water bottle, uncapping it and chugging away the contents, Eren felt entranced. The way you tilted your head back, how beads of water slipped down your chin and neck. He blinked a few times before he looked elsewhere. Maybe it was because he hadn't had sex in a while, seeing as you so easily piqued his interest.

Sometimes he hated being the antisocial person he had become, it made him feel more desperate for human contact than he should.

Eren snapped himself out of his thoughts before he turned away. If he was to be left on his own, he might as well do some snooping. It wasn't like he cared to be scolded by Porco, he already got pointless insults from him daily, anyway.

That's how he found himself on the second floor, standing before a room covered in pastels.

Clearly, this was not Porco's room. The amount of posters and trinkets around, the floral bedsheets... A beanbag, stuffed animals. Magazines and a vanity full of makeup. A bunch of Polaroids hanging on a string of lights. It was your room.

Eren walked towards your desk, a collection of colorful pens and sticky notes amongst journals and books (and other educational tools), sat on its surface. Leaning over and eyeing the photos, seeing the consistency of you and some friends, he furrowed his eyebrows at the sight of a pair of recognizable faces. Gabi Braun and Falco Grice. The former being the little cousin to one of Eren's friends—Reiner Braun—and the latter being the little brother of an acquaintance of his, Colt Grice.

"What are you doing?" A voice had spoken up, causing Eren to nearly jump out of his skin as he turned to face the person.

To face you.

What he did not expect was to see a subtle smirk on your lips, you leaning against your own door frame, and arms crossed. Your feet were bare and your hat was gone. Just you, your sun dress, and (you must've undone your braid) loose hair.

He recalled the innocent look you tried to put off, the way you had lowered your arms and held your hands together before turning your smirk into a gentle smile. It was an act, clearly, he saw right through it. He wondered how often it was used. You must've been a Venus fly trap. "I was looking for the bathroom."

"Well, you're in my bedroom," you had chuckled, shaking your head. "Though, I do have my own personal one. There is no spare one up here. The two bedrooms have their own, then there's the half bath downstairs," you had explained, then stood up straight to approach him.

The whiff of your perfume had hit him—a scent he would never forget—so sweet yet so seductive. Something a siren would conjure. His heart had skipped a beat when you were mere inches away him, his eyes landing on your neck. He thought about the water that had trickled down your skin. His focus slipped from your clavicle down to your cleavage before it swiftly made its way up, to your lips, and back towards your eyes. "Apologies..."

He knew he should've walked out, knew he should've made his way back downstairs... but he couldn't seem to. He was too enthralled by your beauty. There was something about you... You must've been a siren.

"Hey, where the hell did Yeager go?" Porco had called out, causing both your's and Eren's eyes to widen. You didn't think twice when you grabbed Eren's hand and shoved him into your bathroom before shutting the door. Like nothing, you came up with a lie, shouting back how you didn't even see whoever this Yeager person was. All while Eren listened in from the confines of your bathroom (a place he would soon grow accustomed to). You were such a liar.

After that day, you and Eren would encounter one another more often than not. With him working with Porco, Eren would become a common guest at your shared home. Not only that, he would eventually pursue something with you that was beyond friendship.

Porco had a habit of disappearing on Eren in the midst of their group work to do god knows what. It was a different excuse each time he ran into you; majority being phone calls while others he straight up would lock himself up in his room to game with some online bodies who were from a different time zone. All an excuse to stay away from Eren. In those instances, Eren would be left alone to do his part—and any other homework or studying he had to do—before the Galliard man would return... usually an hour later.

Eren had hated that.

Keywords, had hated.

As days turned into weeks, and his presence became more prominent in your home, you grew more and more acquainted with the long haired man. You, unlike Porco and Eren, were soon going to start your freshman year as a college student. You were in the midst of your last summer break before classes would begin, fresh out of high school and already exploring the world with your best friends.

Except, those outings became almost less and less the more you found yourself trying to get close to Porco's arch nemesis.

Eren Yeager was no mystery man to you. You knew of him. You would hear Porco rant about him all the time and, well, you kind of grew an unhealthy obsession. Sure, Porco wasn't a big fan of Reiner Braun... but Eren Yeager? Now that was pure hatred. And, out of pure curiosity, you wanted to get close to this Eren person.

And that's what you did.

Porco Galliard was your step brother, an addition to your life when you first started high school. You had always wanted a big brother and he became that. He was standoffish and quite harsh towards you at first. Being as he was half a decade older than you and wasn't fond of the idea that his father was marrying your mother... he kind of took that out on you. He told you he had an older brother he lost and didn't need a replacement the day you two met. However, as time passed, he started to realize how much of an ass he was to you and slowly opened up. It also helped that his father didn't appreciate how he treated you when you were nothing but kind to him. Probably why Porco took the role of the overly protective big brother a little too serious.

It was a bit suffocating, at first you didn't mind, but the older you got... the more irritated you became.

You understood where he came from, but you were already an adult. Technically speaking. Someone who was entering the real world and was no longer a child. Yet, Porco never could see or understand this.

It was one of the many reasons why you started seeing Eren behind his back.

What started off as shameless flirting on your end blossomed into something... raw. You recalled the ways he'd look at you when he thought you weren't paying attention, or how you'd let your hand linger a little too long on his thigh. Little touches and glances lead to you making out with him at one of Gabi's cousin's parties (yes, your group of three always attended them seeing as Reiner could never deny his precious cousin). You had basically thrown yourself at Eren and had half expected him to deny you... not indulge and lock the two of you up in a bathroom.

From that day on, the two of you started something you couldn't seem to stop.

What you claimed to be a way to relieve endless sexual tension, with Eren being the first man to ever do any of that with you, became something of constant need. Which eventually blossomed into the constant desire to simply just be near one another. What once was shameless hookups became a secret relationship. The reason you were already reaching your five month mark with him.

"I can't believe you're actually dating him," Gabi said as the two of you sat at one of the couches in Reiner's home. It was his annual Christmas party. Your first semester of college went smoothly, what with you having a now graduated boyfriend who loved to give you rewards every time you did well in classes. The incentives were a nice form of motivation. It also helped that he had gone through all the same classes you went through and was the perfect tutor. Now on your winter break, you felt as if you could breathe freely. Somewhat. Porco still hadn't figured out that you were dating his quote unquote enemy.

After that forced group project of their final semester, the two so happened to take part in the same residency... Which meant Porco and Eren seeing one another more. Which meant even more complaints and rants from your step brother.

"Why are you surprised?" You asked as you sipped at the cup in your hand, eyes lingering towards the hallway that lead to the kitchen. From your spot on the couch, you could see Eren leaning against the wall parallel to the island table where two of his best friends—Armin and Mikasa—stood at. They must've been doing something, a wall blocking your vision as you could only see the two walk by every so often. Eren would open his mouth and speak a few words before brining his own cup to his lips. Though his closest friends and your own as well knew about your relationship, you couldn't quite do much in public. When it came to Reiner's home, it meant Porco was somewhere nearby. Or, at least, some of his close friends were. Whenever he'd enter a Braun party and spot Yeager, Porco would turn and walk right out.

Except this time, he was still lingering, mingling with Pieck and Bertolt in the dining room as Colt and Reiner were shooting darts.

The house was packed, Reiner always managed to befriend almost anyone and everyone from all walks of life. There was no wonder why you always found yourself in a corner with Gabi, it was overcrowded and as fun as it was, you didn't trust college boys. Especially when they were drunk. It was enough that you were taken and couldn't quite show it, but it was another thing having to constantly dodge their advances. You hated it but with Gabi around—and her temper—it helped. Only a semester in college and she made a name for herself.

"Because of Porco," Gabi shook her head as she sipped at her drink. "I mean... he hates Eren."

"Yeah, I'm well aware," you snickered, eyes looking back into the kitchen as Eren was now talking to Jean—another good friend of his you met a few months back. Another friend who knew of your secret relationship. "But I don't hate him."

"Obviously," Gabi clicked her tongue. "I'm just glad no one in Eren's group has a big mouth."

Nodding, you took a sip from your cup, "Connie and Sasha have a bit of loose screws, but they know how to keep a secret. I don't worry much about it. Plus, it helps that some of them have already graduated or soon will, it isn't like I'm on campus making out with Eren."

"The perks of having an older boyfriend," Gabi sighed, earning a swat from you.

"Please, you and Falco have been in love with each other since you were in your single digits—"

"Shut up!" Gabi hissed, earning a laugh from you.

Just as you threw your head back, your eyes landed on said blondie. Lifting your head up and smiling at your best friend, you eyed your now empty cup before standing. "I'm gonna get a refill while you smooch up your boyfriend," you said as Falco approached, you patting his arm as he then took your seat. "Have fun!" You said as you leaned in between the two from the other side of the couch, earning a blush from Falco and a hushed curse from Gabi.

"You're such a fucking idiot, Kirstein," Eren grumbled with a roll of his eyes.

"You are, bastard!" Jean fired back.

"You both are idiots," Armin laughed as Mikasa sighed. You walked in, unsure what was happening, only knowing it was just them four there within the chaos of junk food. The kitchen was littered with dozens of opened and unopened beer bottles, tons of liquor, bags of chips, plates and napkins... all strewn all over the place. You felt bad for Reiner, but he never complained, Bertolt and Annie always helped him clean up since they, too, lived in the home. You'd often offer, but Reiner always said you did enough by being Gabi's best friend. It never ceased to make you laugh.

"Oh, hey," hearing your name as you were pouring yourself another cup from besides Armin, you turned and were greeted by his sweet smile.

"Hey," you smiled back, then noticing how everyone was looking at you—including Eren. "What are they arguing about now?"

"Some dumb shit," Armin waved off as you grinned.

"Nothing new," Mikasa shrugged as she approached you, gently bumping her arm against yours in an endearing way before whispering, "Eren's been waiting for you."

Blushing, you looked at the grey eyed beauty, "Porco's still here..."

Frowning, Mikasa sighed, "we'll cover up for you if he asks or anything."

Smiling, you nodded, "thanks." Walking past her and greeting Jean, you casually sat on one of the barstools adjacent to Eren. Sipping at your cup and pulling out your phone from the pocket of your cardigan, you scrolled through your social media. Without noticing it, Mikasa, Armin, and Jean all exchanged looks before discreetly ditching the space, leaving Eren alone with you. You tried to keep yourself busy, liking photos here and there, reading a few DM's you hadn't checked before a shadow casted upon you. Looking up and seeing Eren with his arms crossed over the counter as he leaned towards you, you bit back a grin. "Hi."

"Hey," he nudged his head. "How are you?"

Biting your inner lip, you fought the smile forcing it's way onto your lips, "I'm good... yeah, classes just ended... passed them all. How are you?"

"I'm alright," he sighed before one of his hands moved, tracing the tile on the counter as your eyes bounced between the many silver and black rings that adorned his fingers. "A bit bummed out though..."

Lifting your eyes from his fingers (that you were very well versed in) up his jacket covered arm, towards his neck and jaw, your eyes lingered on his plush lips. Oh, how badly you wanted to kiss him. "Why's that?" You asked, eyes still studying the handsome man before you, from the piercings that decorated his ears to the loose strands of hair that slid from his bun, towards his stunning emerald eyes (that seemed more interested on the counter than you), you shifted in your seat.

"I've walked under a shit ton of mistletoes, my girlfriend was nowhere in sight, but when she was, I couldn't kiss her," he pouted as your heart skipped a beat. The two of you had seen one another a few times throughout the night, walking by each other even, almost as if the other was a ghost with the lack of acknowledgment. You both hated it. "Kinda afraid she kissed some other man."

"Oh, poor you..." you played along, mimicking his pout as you tilted your head. "Though I doubt anyone would cheat on a pretty face like yours."

Finally lifting his stunning eyes to meet yours, Eren's toothy grin presented itself to you, his pearly whites on display as your heart throbbed within your chest. "Is that so?"

Nodding, you walked your pointer and middle towards his hand, your fingers gently trailing along one of the veins that was on full display. "Yeah, I don't think I've ever seen a man like you before. I'm kind of jealous. I mean, damn, she's a lucky girl... too bad I can't be seen with an older man. Especially one that looks like you," you frowned. Eren wanted nothing more than to take your hand and run into the nearest bedroom. "What, with all those piercings and that fashion sense... how are you a doctor?"

Eyeing you as he licked his lips, Eren took in a deep breath, "I sadly have to remove the earrings and hide any visible tattoos. Lucky for me, they're pretty hidden under my work attire."

Smiling, you pulled your hand away. You noticed the way Eren's own twitched, wanting to yank yours back. "That's a shame, if you were my doctor I'd want to see it all on full display."

Sucking in a sharp breath as he could hear his blood pumping, Eren looked at you with hungry eyes, "you're a little minx."

Grinning, you settled your cup and stood up, "I've gotta go... I'll see you around."

Feeling his heart drop, Eren stood straight, eyes slightly widening. "Where you headed to?"

"My boyfriend's car, he's waiting for me," you shrugged before walking off, smiling to yourself as you knew Eren would follow.

You slid past the crowd that had huddled up in the home, chanting Sasha and Connie's names—they must've been doing some sort of drinking or eating contest. Your step brother was still busy in his own world, unaware of your body walking out the front door. Mikasa, Armin, and Jean—who were now in the same vicinity as Porco—noticed you (followed shortly by Eren) exiting.

Walking past the stoners and a few couples making out on the porch, you strolled along the collection of cars, further down to where you knew Eren parked his car. He always kept it away from the rest, not trusting anyone around his car—and also for instances like these when he wanted the two of you alone.

Reiner's shared house was situated along a row of homes that sat before a park, a park in which you now walked along, spotting Eren's ride. Just as you approached it, the doors unlocked and the lights flickered. Eren wasn't too far behind. Opening the backseat door, you slid in, on your hands and knees as you made your way to the other side. Soon after, you felt the car shift as the door slammed, your body being tugged back. Now facing Eren, your sudden giggle was interrupted as his body hovered over yours, lips crashing on to your own with such desperation.

Eren slid his tongue past your parted lips, meeting your own as his hands grabbed onto the meat of your thighs, parting them and situating himself in between them. Though his car wasn't tiny, it wasn't massive either for either of you to be completely comfortable. However, you two had become pros when it came to having fun in the backseat of his ride.

Running your fingers along his hair, pulling it out of the bun it was in, you slid his hair tie around your wrist before you felt Eren grind up against you. Your heart skipped a beat at the pressure against your clothed core, Eren's bulge pressing against his jeans, begging for freedom. One of your hands slid between your bodies, palming against his hardness as a moan escaped the man before you, the kiss becoming sloppy as he couldn't seem to put his focus on anything else but the pressure you gave him. You grinned as you felt his hips jerk against you, your other hand settling against the back of his neck as you lifted your head enough to meet his lips once again.

In an instant, Eren had you straddling him, your thighs parted as you moved both of your hands into his hair once again. Your breathing was heavy, your lips desperately meeting one another as you began to grind your hips against him. Eren's fingers slid under the skirt of your dress, pressing into your thighs and bruising the skin. You grew impatient, your forehead pressed against his as you shifted and situated yourself against one of his thighs. The sounds of your shared breathing filled the air, Eren's parted lips catching your own as you began to rock yourself against him. The friction, that pressure you needed against your bundle of nerves had you seeing stars. You felt so needy—extra needy. It was enough that you had to sneak around to see Eren, which made the both of you even more desperate than you should've been.

You felt like a bitch in heat, every time you were alone with Eren, you always found yourself riding his hand, his thigh, or even his face, to get off. After all, that's how your relationship first started. And he (almost) always made it about you and your pleasures. He never complained. He liked seeing the way you unraveled before him, the look of pure ecstasy across your face, how your eyebrows furrowed and lips parted. The way you squeezed your eyes shut, how quickly you breathed, and the grip you had on his shoulders or head, always leaving behind angry crescent marks against his skin. He wore them—and any other markings you gave him—as a badge of honor. He loved making you come.

Reaching down and tugging at your panties, Eren pushed them as far as he could before you did the rest, allowing yourself to feel freely. Your slick staining his black jeans as you eagerly rubbed yourself against him. Eren watched in a daze, his head thrown back against the head rest as his fingers pressed into the flesh of your bare ass. You held onto your underwear, placing it in the pocket of his jacket. "Keep it," was all you said. Eren didn't even question it, he never did. At this point, he had a whole collection of your underwear in its own drawer—and not just from when you stayed the night.

Feeling your grip tighten as your moans became louder and quicker, Eren slid his hands higher and helped guide your hips. Helped you find your release as you orgasmed before him, the heat burning up your body as you lowered your head to his shoulder. You knew that wasn't it, it never was one and done. You soon found your lips on his neck, licking at the skin, lazily biting and leaving marks behind.

Eren undid his belt and pants, lifting his hips with you as he pushed his jeans down his thighs. Your own hands moved down to his underwear, tugging down the waistband and letting his length spring free. The fact that neither of you had spoken a word showed how desperate you were. Eren was in a haze and you were straight up horny. After weeks of studying for final exams, unable to free yourself from your step brother's watch as he knew you were changing due to college, you were hardly able to sneak around with Eren. You couldn't even remember the last time you two fucked.

Normally, Eren would tease you for being so damn desperate, but he was feeling it just as bad. He missed you. He really missed you. He dreamt plenty about you, fantasized and thought about you while he was supposed to be focused on other things. There wasn't enough porn in the world to make up for the itch he needed to scratch. You two were truly addicted to one another.

Eren slid into you with little to no resistance, he wondered if you kept busy while he wasn't around to make up for the lack of his presence. He didn't want to think about it. All he wanted to do was fuck you. Fuck you and fuck you and fuck you as much as he could in the back of his car before anyone could see you. He truly hoped Mikasa was keeping her word. He needed this time with you.

Lifting his hips to meet your own as you raised and lowered yours, the two of you groaned and moaned out each other's names. Tears lightly pricked your eyes, you felt like you were seeing god—though, to be fair, Eren always looked like a god in your eyes when you were being intimate. You could hear the angels singing. God, how you missed his dick.

It was embarrassing, you knew neither of you would last long. You fucked each other, eagerly needing to feel one another. Eren hissed as you yelped when he gave you a rough buck of his hips, tearing into you. Your body shook—as did the car. Your skin slapped, the sounds melting with every other obscene noise your bodies were making. From your mouth to his, down to your pussy. Everything was so loud and fast and hot...

"E— Eren—" you stuttered, gulping, trying to catch your breath. Your eyes squeezed shut, your head fell back as a scream ripped from your lungs.

"Fuck— Fuck, baby, it's been— it's been too long," Eren shook his head, head falling back as you squeezed tightly around him. Eren was going to come, he could feel it, you were already reaching your climax and crying out and it was only making him choke out on his moans. "Wh— Where do you—"

"In me— Fuck— Yes!" You shrieked, riding out your high. You didn't have to tell Eren twice, he came hard, shooting ropes of his seed within you until you were practically overflowing with it. It wasn't often, but whenever you did let him come in you, he loved watching the way his own release leaked deliciously from you. It almost always lead to him fucking you again. It was a wonderful thing that you were on the pill.

"Shit..." Eren breathed, taking a moment to collect himself as you did the same. "We should go back inside... Get cleaned..."

"Yeah..." you whispered, now looking down at him with hooded eyes. A lazy smile was on your lips as your hands moved up to push his hair away from his face. You leaned in and gave him a sweet kiss, nuzzling your nose against his before gently nibbling at his jaw. Eren sat there, his hands falling to his sides before he reached up and fixed your own hair that was a bit tousled.

Gazing up at you, a smile mirroring your own—one of satisfaction and a bit prideful at the sight of your blissful expression—he leaned in and kissed you. "Let's go."

Sighing, you opened the door and climbed off of him, adjusting your dress and shivering. Not only had you purposefully left your panties in Eren's pocket, but you could feel his release trailing down your leg.

Eren stepped out after fixing himself, shutting the door behind him before locking his car. He reached for you and brought your hand to his lips, kissing your knuckles, wrist, then tugged you to him as he kissed your lips. Your arms wrapped around his waist, his towering frame hunching over to deepen the kiss. His tongue met yours, yours hands tugging at his jacket, you smiled... but then suddenly you were standing there. Stunned. Your arms now open before you and Eren's body gone.

You blinked, and you blinked again and again, yells and grunts were heard, the sound of rustling and curses echoed into the night sky. You couldn't process it, too dazed. What the hell was happening?

"Porco! Porco, stop it!" You recognized that soft voice... it was Pieck.

Why was Pieck there? Why had she been calling out to Porco?

A gasp left you, one that made you light headed. Your eyes landed on Porco, clutching onto Eren's collar with one hand as his other was curled into a fist, punching at Eren's face. Your heart dropped, your eyes widened. Blood. Blood was everywhere. You screamed, you screamed so loud all you could hear was ringing. You reached for your step brother, tried to pull him off, but he shoved you back. You fell into Pieck's arms as she held you tight. Her usually calm voice yelled at Porco to stop, begging him to leave Eren alone. You tried reaching over again, voice cutting in and out as tears streamed down your cheek at the sight of your boyfriend taking every single hit.

He didn't block his attacks, he didn't even fight back. Why wasn't he? Why was he letting Porco do this?

Everything was happening so fast, your ears continued to ring, your vision blurred. Suddenly, Reiner was there to pull Porco back. Suddenly, Jean was there with Armin to tug Eren up to his feet. Mikasa was before him, checking his injuries as Bertolt and Annie stood before Porco to block his view. Gabi and Falco were beside you in an instant, speaking, saying things you couldn't pick up. All you could focus on was the blood that stained the sidewalk, the sound of your heart racing in your ears, and the sudden need to crumble to your knees.

To then black out.

"Hey." You were pretending you couldn't hear him, you stood there with your back pressed against the wall, a cup in your hand. Gabi and Falco stood before you, childishly bickering over something as you kept to yourself and watched it all unravel. It was always like this, you third wheeling and never seeming to mind, you didn't need to go to the movies when you had them. "Gabi snapped?"

Biting your inner lip as you fought a grin, you turned your head and tilted it up in acknowledgment. "Hey... Yeah, nothing new," you sighed as you eyed the emerald eyed man beside you. Eren had his hair down—a sight you adored—as he dressed in a pair of black jeans, a band tee, and a jacket over it. You tried to be discreet, definitely not checking him out in front of him... but how could you not? He was too handsome for his own good. Sometimes moments like these happened when it was just you two, eyes lingering, silence weaving between the two of you. You could smell his cologne. It made you want to tremble. Sometimes you hated his charms, even when he wasn't trying... he always had you enamored.

"About what?" Eren curiously asked. He was being quite social with you when your step brother wasn't too far off. It was another one of Reiner's gatherings, you were sure Porco hadn't noticed Eren just yet.

"Oh, you know how Gabi thinks she's always right," you waved a hand before leaning in, "when she's not."

That earned a snicker from Eren as he kept his focus on your two best friends, watching with such amusement. "Poor Falco."

Grinning as your eyes trailed his pretty face, freshly shaven jaw, perfect nose and lips that always appeared in your dreams, you turned your attention over his shoulder. Jean stood in between Sasha and Connie, lecturing them like a father. "Though, they remind me a lot like a pair of somebodies," you said, looking back at Eren as his eyes shifted to meet your own.

"Do they?" He arched an eyebrow as you nodded.

"You and Jean. Always bickering like a married couple," you teased, earning an eye roll from Eren. "I'm not wrong, everyone thinks that."

With a scoff, Eren crossed his arms, "Jean wishes he could land me."

Letting out a small laugh, you shook your head and turned your focus back to your best friends, "well, if he can't, I wonder who can? Mikasa?"

"I was thinking Porco," Eren teased, earning a snort from you as you were in the midst of drinking from your cup, nearly choking. Eren rubbed your back as you patted your chest, clearing your throat.

"Oh, you're funny," you pointed a finger as he flashed you a smile. A smile that always had you weak in the knees. "Though, you kinda have that mellow feel sometimes—like Pieck. I can see it."

Shaking his head, Eren removed his hand from your back before he brought it to your chin. "Eh, I wouldn't want him anyway."

Eyeing him as he kept his gaze locked on your face, gently shaking your head as he held your chin, your heart fluttered. "Who'd you want then?" You asked, blushing without a warning. Why'd you ask that? You were bold around him, sure, but in the comfort of your home. Never out in the open.

You just wanted him so bad.

"She's kind of hard to get," he sighed, letting go of your chin before resting his forearm above your head, against the wall you leaned on. "Got this overly protective step brother who hates my guts..." Lifting his free hand, using his thumb to push around the ring on his middle finger, your eyes widened as your throat locked. You?

"Oh?" You whispered, blinking, staring at him with a racing heart. "And that stops you... because?"

Stopping the movement of his thumb, he lifted his gorgeous eyes to meet yours, "not sure if she's into me."

"I'm sure she is... if she's been hinting at it for a while... Who knows, maybe she's willing to sneak around..." you trailed, voice coming out more breathy than intended. You couldn't help the way your breathing quickened in anticipation. You hoped he was catching your drift. After all, your words were pretty direct.

"Sneak around, huh..." Eren nodded. "Maybe I'll try that." Suddenly he stood straight, turned in his spot and walked away.

"Wh— Where are you going?" You nearly called out, getting off the wall and watching him with wide eyes.

"Gonna head to the bathroom, maybe I can find her there."

Without hesitating, you settled your cup to the nearest flat surface—the top of a speaker—before you followed after.

Your knees buckled in as you looked at Eren, then at Porco, then back at Eren. You could hear your stepbrother cussing at Reiner, trying to fight the solid man off, threatening more violence. Eren stood with a bloody nose and busted lip as Mikasa asked him questions. If he was okay, if he broke anything, if there's any pain... Jean and Armin watched him with worry.

"Go to him," Pieck whispered to you as your world finally snapped back into motion. You turned your head and eyed her with confusion. What was she saying? How had she known? "I may be quiet but I see things. I noticed the way Eren would look at you, how he treated you compared to everyone else. It also doesn't help that I just saw you two kiss. Go to him, stay with him, make sure he's alright. I'll handle Porco, okay? Please don't overthink it."

Slowly nodding, you eyed Porco as he continued to thrash around in Reiner's grip, Annie and Bertolt still blocking him. Turning your head and eyeing Eren, a look of... well, there was nothing. No sign of emotion. Expressionless. It was a defense mechanism, it was how he looked when he felt too much at once and shut down. Or maybe he saw this coming and had nothing to say. With a frown still on your lips, you walked over and gently gave Mikasa's arm a small squeeze. Her and the two men looked at you before giving you space, you taking Eren's hand in your own. "I'm going home with him."

"Okay," Jean nodded.

"Let us know if you need anything," Armin spoke.

"Please let me know when you make it," Mikasa added as you nodded.

Pulling out his keys from his pocket, you guided him back to his car, putting him into the passenger seat before you took the driver's. You adjusted the seat and rear view mirrors, seeing Porco in the reflection as Pieck now stood before him, completely blocking his view of your leave.

The drive to Eren's place was quiet, nothing but the hum of their air conditioner and the occasional noises the car made. Eren kept his solemn gaze ahead as you gripped the steering wheel with both hands. Your heart was all over the place and you constantly had to blink away tears that suddenly made their presence known. When you arrived, you were quick to park his car and rush to Eren's side, taking his hand once again and guiding him into the apartment building.

The moment you made it to his floor, to his door, and into his home, you sat him on his couch before gathering what you needed. You knew where things were, aware of the ins and outs of his apartment with the many times you visited and stayed the night—claiming to be at Gabi's. Bringing back his first aid kit, a damp towel, and some water, you settled it all on the coffee table before him.

Eren watched as you disappeared into his bedroom, the sound of his bathroom sink running lasted a few moments. Then he heard drawers opening and closing, minutes later you returned with clean hands and socks on your now bare feet. He hadn't even noticed when you removed your heels—maybe you had done it in his room—he wasn't sure.

He couldn't stop hearing the ringing in his ears, the white noise that had yet to leave him. The moment you wiped away his blood and cleaned up his wounds, up until the very second you started shedding tears and fought a whimper, the sounds around him came back to normal.

Your hands fell from his face as your head now hung. Tears fell down your cheek and collected on the ground between your feet. You tried holding it in, tried fighting it back, but your body trembled and a small gasp of air broke the silence.

Carefully, Eren brought you onto his lap and wrapped his arms around you. You buried your face in his neck as you clung to his shirt. "I'm sorry," you whispered. "I'm so sorry... It's— It's all my fault... I pursued you, I suggested all of this, I—"

"Stop," Eren finally spoke. "Don't blame yourself. I'm not going to let you feel guilty over your own happiness."

Feeling him gently push you back as you eyed him with blurry vision, your heart sank at the sight of his now bruising cheek and split lip. "Why didn't you stop him?" You asked, voice low. Your hand gently traced around the bruised areas, pouting as your eyebrows narrowed further. "You let him hurt you."

Sighing, Eren brought one of his hands up to your face, thumb brushing against your bottom lip as his fingers moved to hold the back of your neck. "As much as I would love to fuck him up, I wasn't going to. Not when it would make matters worse. Not when it would hurt you more. It's enough he had found us the way he had... I mean, hell, I hate to say I get where he's coming from."

"But his hate towards you is so stupid!" You shook your head, more tears surfacing. "It's judgmental and ridiculous! He hates you because, what? You look a certain way? He doesn't even bother to get to know you. You're not a bad guy! You're— You are so kind and you care so much for the ones you love. I see it. I see how you are with Mikasa and Armin. Sasha and Connie... Hell, even Jean! I feel it, too... It's not fair..." your voice lowered as did your eyes.

Watching you with soft eyes, Eren tightened his arm around your waist as his other hand moved from wiping your tears, to cupping your cheek. "I wish I could kiss you..." he whispered, earning a small smile from you.

"No, your lip..." you shook your head before sighing. "I just... I wish— I wish he would see it. I wish he would understand."

"What if he doesn't?" Eren asked, studying your every look. The way your eyes trailed around his shirt, how your hand fiddled with the material, only to stop at his question. "I won't stop loving you..."

Blinking a few times, your heart skipped a beat, eyes trailing up his body to meet his own. "You... Eren?"

Gazing at you, he nodded, "kind of hard not to." Letting out a small chuckle, he looked off to the side, bringing his hand to the back of his neck, rubbing it. "I haven't been in a relationship in a while. School was a lot on my plate... I guess I caught you at the right time, huh? I've loved you for a while now, about a week in. Maybe it's because I haven't been doing this for a while that I fell fast, but that sounds shitty, so I won't say it's that. I just..." sighing and lowering his hand, he reached for your own—the one that held his shirt—and gave it a small squeeze. "I wish I said it sooner, but I didn't want to scare you away. Who's to say you want something forever with an older man like me?"

Smiling, your eyes softened as you shook your head, "you're like five years older, don't make a big fuss about it." Loosening your grip from his shirt, you moved your hand to hold his. "I wouldn't have left. Sure, I would've been a bit terrified, I mean... a week in?" You teased, earning a laugh from him. "My past relationships didn't last too long. I've had like two before you, all lasted a few weeks. Different circumstances... After having a step brother around, it was even harder to go on dates."

"Clearly," Eren huffed. "You're young... You've just started living, you haven't even hit your 20s yet—"

"Don't give me that," you glared. "I can enjoy my life on my own while simultaneously enjoy it with you, Eren. Nothing will get in the way of what I want. And what I want is you. I have you. I mean, I was such an obvious flirt because of how bad I wanted you," you laughed.

"Yeah, because Porco made you curious," Eren teased.

"There's no denying that," you shrugged before taking in a deep breath, looking him in the eyes, those emerald pools that always pulled you in. "I'm glad I did. Even if I was more attracted to your looks at first," you cringed, but Eren smiled. "I grew to love everything about you. Even the dumb things you do that can bug me, you're a man after all."

Laughing at that, Eren pulled you into a hug and breathed you in, closing his eyes for a moment and sliding his fingers into your hair, pressing against your head. "A man in love—"

"Shut up," you grumbled through a smile. "I love you, too..."

Tightening his grip, Eren took in a deep breath before letting it out, leaning back and resting his forehead against yours. "If all else goes to shit and he kicks you out, you can live with me. It's kinda lonely being on my own."

"Eren..." you sighed, pushing back and looking at him. "Don't tempt me."

Shrugging, he brought his hand to your cheek, brushing his thumb just beneath your left eye, "I don't care, you can come in tomorrow with your bags and I'd welcome you with open arms."

"I don't doubt it," you smiled before standing up, taking his hands in yours. Pulling him up to his feet, you guided him to his bedroom. Undressing one another, left in only your undergarments, the two of you slid under his bedsheets. Holding tightly onto him as you practically cocooned yourself around him, the two of you fell asleep.

When morning had come, you and Eren shared a shower before dressing and making yourself breakfast. You were anxious, to say the least, having to go back home to an angry Porco. A Porco who—without a doubt—will give you a migraine from all is yelling and the potential crying that'll come from it. You knew you'd be just as angry, refusing to let him treat you as if you were a mindless child who couldn't make decisions. Refused to let him belittle Eren when he hardly knew him. It wasn't what you were looking forward to. You could only imagine if he had already told your parents or if he decided to keep it to himself.

Though, in all honesty, your parents already knew about Eren. It happened a month into your relationship with him, you two were together at the local mall, window shopping and having dinner together. You knew Porco wasn't a fan of the mall, always complaining about how packed it was—and that night he had his own plans. However, you didn't expect to run into your mother and step father, who had spotted you holding a boy's hand. Eren's hand.

You could remember how your heart dropped, the way your eyes widened and your hand twitched into his grip. Eren had been dressed in ripped up jeans, a distressed black tee, hair down and arm tattoos on display. It wasn't like you were embarrassed to be with a man like Eren, not ashamed to be with a guy who looked like he was plucked out of 90's rock band... you just didn't want this meeting to happen in public... Nor did you want them to react the way Porco did whenever Eren was around. Judgmental and with distaste.

Maybe luck was on your side, or the world wasn't truly cruel, because your boyfriend was nothing but respectful and your mother (plus step father) were nothing but kind. Although you had gotten a few questionable looks your way, and a few phone calls after that moment, they had no right to criticize. To tell you how to live. After all, you weren't living under their roof.

Plus, when they learned that he was on the road to becoming a doctor, they definitely eased off on questioning your taste.

"What are you doing?" You asked as Eren parked his car in a visitor spot rather than leave you out front. "Eren—"

"It's you and I not just you," he said as he slipped out of his seat and pocketed his keys. You quickly exited the car, rushing to his side after shutting your door and shook your head. "I don't want you getting attacked for something that's not your fault."

"Eren, you can't— He will only be even more upset!" You reasoned, but Eren didn't listen. Instead, he walked down the road and up to the townhome that was yours, you quickly following. "Eren—"

Looking down at you, he gently got a hold of your chin, eyes boring into your own, "I rather take the heat again than you, get yelled at and be the punching bag, enough for him to hear how much I love you. It may not be reasonable, but, we are in this together, aren't we?" Seeing you nod, he left a soft kiss on your nose, then forehead before letting you go.

Sighing, you pulled out your keys, ready to unlock the door before you... only for it to swing open. Eren tugged you behind him instinctively, you nearly losing your footing as your step brother and boyfriend were now face to face. It felt like hours had passed with how long they stared at one another before you finally spoke up. "Porco."

"Why the fuck is he here?" He spat, causing you to suck in a deep breath.

"Enough! He's my boyfriend, you had your fair share of abuse yesterday when you nearly beat him to death!" You snapped, lowering Eren's arm so you could step in front of him. "What you did was wrong, instead of approaching us like a mature adult, you beat the living hell out of him. And for what? You thought that'd make him run away? That I'd break up with him? If anything, it made you look completely foolish," you clenched your fists. "Your hate for Eren is pointless. You don't like his looks? Grow the hell up. You still look like a frat boy and you don't see anyone complaining!" You went on, now pointing a finger at him with eyes narrowed.

Porco stood before you, stiff and unable to counter. "Yes, I kept it a secret from you for this exact reason. You overreacted and not only hurt him, but you hurt me. I'm not asking you to love the guy, but I'm asking you to respect me. He is my boyfriend and I love him."

Feeling himself flinch at the word love, Porco took in a sharp breath through his nose as he kept his eyes locked on yours.

"And he loves me too," you nearly whispered, not realizing that you had tears pooling up in your eyes.

Gulping, Porco lowered his focus to the ground, recalling the events of the previous night. He had everyone hounding him, telling him he overreacted, that he fucked up. Reiner yelling in his face saying how he hurt you more than Eren with his actions. Annie nearly beating the shit out of him herself, Bertolt trying to ease the tension... Pieck saying you were an adult now and were allowed to be with whoever you wanted to. And somehow he knew, deep down inside, his long lost brother would be just as ashamed as they were.

It also didn't help that as he was ready to open the door, he overheard what Eren said to you. How he'd take the heat. How he loved you. Porco hated that. Hated how wrong he was. How stupid he had been behaving.

"I heard..." was all he said, eyes still low.

Your own widened, blinking before tilting your head in confusion. "Heard... what?"

"What Yeager said, about loving you. I heard it before I opened the door," he grumbled.

Eren, though silently listening the whole time, stood behind you with a subtle blush on his cheeks. He watched the way you took a small step back, how Porco stubbornly looked anywhere but at you. Placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder, Eren broke his silence, "you're lucky I love her as much as I do, I would've fucked you up worse—"

"Eren," you hissed, looking back at him as he shrugged. So nonchalant.

"Psht, whatever, Yeager," Porco glared as he instantly looked at the green eyed man behind you.

Rolling your eyes, you pinched the bridge of your nose, "look, I don't ever want to see you two fight again." Removing Eren's hand from your shoulder, you slipped your hand into it, noticing the way Porco's nose scrunched up. "Porco, I think you have something to say to Eren."

Sucking in a sharp breath, Porco crossed his arms, "I don't know why I have to apologize—"

"I'll move out," you quickly said, earning a look of shock from Porco.

"Wha— Fine! I'm sorry, Yeager," Porco huffed.

Smiling, you tugged Eren inside with you, "how hard was that?"

"Wait, why are you bringing him inside? He—"

Grinning, Eren lifted his fist and nudged Porco on the chest, "I am her boyfriend after all, Pock."

Grounding his teeth as he watched Eren walk past, making his way up the stairs with you, Porco called out, "I'm heading out, I better not see him when I return!"

"No problem, I'll be in her room where you can't see me," Eren smiled as he leaned over the railing, you shaking your head and tugging him with you.

"Stop instigating," you sighed, hearing a grumble from Porco before the front door slammed closed.

"It's the least I could do after he busted up my face," he huffed, sitting on your bed as you shut your bedroom door.

Stepping in between his legs, you cupped his cheeks and left a gentle kiss on his lips. "You still look handsome as ever," you gazed, gently tracing along his hairline, pushing away the hair from his face, behind his ear. Quietly gazing at one another, you continued your ministrations, softly caressing his cheek, brushing your thumb along one of his eyebrows, pressing your finger against his bottom lip.

Eren's hooded eyes watched you as you studied his face with a sweet smile on your lips. Giving your ass a small squeeze, he gave it a light tap before sticking his tongue out. Wrapping his lips around your finger, he watched as your cheeks flourished with heat before he leaned back. Letting your finger fall from his lips, he scooted back on your bed and brought you with him. Settling you on his hips as he fell back against your pillows, he trailed his hands up and down your thighs. "You were so assertive out there."

Grinning as your hands fell onto the expanse of his hard chest, you licked your lips, "I was defending my boyfriend."

"Yeah, and it was hot," he said, caressing and squeezing your thighs. "Porco took it better than I thought... After last night, you would've thought he would've gone for a round two."

"I have a feeling Annie and Reiner did something... Though, Annie probably beat the shit out of him..." you sighed, unbuttoning the top buttons of his plaid shirt to expose his chest. "She's always had my back when it came to Porco."

"I would have murdered him if I didn't hold back—"

"Shut up," you rolled your eyes. "You must really love me to take all of that."

"I do," Eren said, looking you in the eyes. "I really do..."

Blushing, you leaned down and kissed him as your hands caressed the skin of his chest. Moving your kisses down his neck, you licked a stripe up the column of his throat before meeting his lips once again. "You're such a gentleman."

"Only because he's your family," Eren lowly spoke.

"Yeah, but you still are one. Such a handsome... kind... sexy, gentleman," you breathed against his skin before finding that sweet spot just below his ear, marking him. "I could fuck you right now."

"Is that so?" He hummed as you nodded. "Why don't you?"

Lifting your head and looking deeply into his own, you shook your head, "I just told my brother about us..."

"And you also brought me up to your bedroom in front of him," he added. "Not like he can do anything about it."

"Not now," you sighed, sitting up and pulling off of him, earning a groan from Eren. "I need to check on my garden."

"Sure, leave my dick aching while you water your flowers," he groaned, arms crossed behind his head as he started at the ceiling.

"Come on, help me," you tugged at his jeans, Eren looking at you with an eyebrow arched before he forced himself up with a lazy groan. "If you help me, I can finish faster, and then I can fuck you."

Before you could process it, you were in Eren's arms, making your way down the stairs and towards your tiny backyard. "You better keep your word."

"You feeling better?" Annie asked, sitting across from Porco. There was a local cafe they met at weekly—as long as their schedules allowed it. Porco, Pieck, Annie, Reiner, and Bertolt taking the same outdoor table, talking about their week, work, and life. This time around, Pieck requested it be earlier after the previous night's events.

"Yeah, totally, after you kicked the shit out of me," Porco glared, rubbing his side that still ached from Annie's beating. When you had left with Eren, Porco got his karma in the shape of Annie's sneaker covered foot. "Still fucking hurts."

"Good, now you know how Eren's face feels," she crossed her arms.

"Though I'm sure your sister kissed it better," Reiner teased, earning a low curse from Porco telling him to fuck off.

"Alright you two," Pieck spoke up. "So tell us what happened before you got here."

Sighing, Porco leaned back in his chair, "she came with Yeager, scolded me, proceeded to tell me she's in love with him and he loves her... threatened to move out, I apologized, then they went up to her... room..." he frowned, crossing his arms. "God knows what the fuck they're doing all alone there. I shouldn't have left—"

"Your legal step sister alone... in a home she helps pay for... What are you? Her father?" Bertolt scoffed. "Let her be, stop worrying so much, you'll lose the top part of your hair like you did the sides—"

"It's a fucking hairstyle, Gumby!" Porco snapped, earning stifled laughter from the rest of the group. "Whatever, I know she's legal and basically an adult now, but Yeager better not fucking hurt her."

"I'm sure he's broken her back plenty—"

"Fuck you, Braun!" Porco shouted, standing up and pointing, only to be tugged back down to his seat by Pieck. "I don't want to think about it!"

Lifting up his hands in defense, Reiner leaned back in his seat, "I'm just stating the obvious. I've seen her walking funny plenty of times and I've caught them fu—" cutting himself off, Reiner scratched at his goatee. "Never mind."

Blinking as Porco eyed him in shock, he clutched onto the seat he was in. "You... caught... them?"

"Like... once or twice—"

"Once or twice?!" Porco exclaimed.

"More like a handful," Annie added, earning a look from Porco. "What? Your step sister isn't innocent. None of us are. Why are you so damn surprised? Good for her for getting action from a man who makes her happy. I wouldn't want anything less."

"That's because you're always on her side!" Porco cried out as Annie shrugged while Reiner looked anywhere else but at Porco. "You too, Reiner! No surprising there since you guys always take her side!"

"What? I like her more than you, anyway," Reiner was now the one shrugging as Annie nodded in agreement.

Sinking into his seat and crossing his arms like a stubborn child, Pieck rubbed his upper arm as he mumbled, "assholes..."

"I haven't done this since I was little," Eren said as he wiped some sweat from his forehead, leaning back on the lawn chair after pulling his hair back into a low bun.

"Garden?" You asked, handing him a water bottle as you sipped on your own.

Nodding his head as he twisted the cap off, bringing the bottle to his lips and nearly chugging its entire contents, you watched in awe. The water slipped down his chin and along the side of his neck, causing you to bit your inner lip. "Yeah, my mom had her own garden in my childhood home. It was her favorite place to be. She always had me watering the plants when I was a kid, she was always the happiest when we were out there, surrounded by the flowers and under the sun."

Snapping out of your thoughts, you settled your bottle down besides his now empty one on the small, wobbly table. "That's so sweet... No wonder you're so good at watering," you teased, moving to sit on your knees. Eren sat with his legs spread, the space in between his thighs now being occupied by you. Your hands reached up to his shoulders, smiling at the sound of Eren's small laugh.

"I'm good at other things," He said in a much more hushed tone, eyes lowering to your lips.

Repositioning yourself as your legs now hung over his thighs, either knee pressed into his sides, you scooted yourself closer. "Like what?" You asked, moving your hands to his flannel, unbuttoning the remaining buttons before opening it up.

Moving his hands onto your thighs, giving them a squeeze, he pulled you even closer to feel his hardness. A small gasp left you as Eren leaned in and blew against your ear, biting onto your earlobe and whispering, "making you wet, of course." You felt his hands move higher, slipping underneath the loose shorts you were in. That morning, you had borrowed one of Eren's shirts and gym shorts, though baggy, it was better than staying in the dress you wore the night before.

Eren's fingers slid underneath your panties, gripping your ass before pushing your hips against his. A small whine left you before you huffed, "Eren... Someone could hear us..."

"Then you'll just have to be quiet," he whispered, lips now hovering over your own. "I'll be quick."

In a matter of seconds, Eren's hand dipped through the front of your shorts, into your panties and against your heat. Your slick coated his fingers as he swiped his fingers up your pussy, then finding your bud. Rubbing circles and making you squirm, Eren smiled against your lips as he kissed you, swallowing your moans as his tongue slithered into your mouth. Your heart raced as his finger prodded your entrance, pushing in as you bucked your hips. Using his free hand to press against your ass as he began to thrust his finger, he pulled out and added a second one. Your mouths just barely grazed one another, kissing the corners, his chin, your saliva spreading. Your eyes squeezed as Eren thrusted his fingers in you, curling and finding the spot that'd make you come. "Eren..."

"I said I'd make this quick," he mumbled against your cheek, pushing his fingers deeper as his thumb pressed against your clit. "I'm keeping my word."

Burying your fingers into his hair, as you turned his head so he could kiss you properly, your lips desperately met his as you chased your release. You clenched around his fingers as he continued his ministrations until your juices coated his hand; and just as you shook against him as you came, Eren pulled out his fingers and presented them to you. Your chest heaved as you watched him bring his slick covered fingers into his mouth, licking away every bit of you from them. "That's..." Not even bothering to finish your sentence, you pulled him back into the kiss, earning a chuckle from him as you eagerly kissed him.

"Not again!"

Pulling back and seeing Porco (amongst Pieck, Annie, Bertolt and Reiner) standing at the sliding glass doors, you covered your mouth. Pieck gave you a sweet smile as Reiner gave you a thumbs up, Annie carrying a look of indifference (though keeping an eye on Porco) while Bertolt fought a grin. Eren looked over his shoulders at the crowd and sighed.

"I said—" before he could finish, Pieck pulled him away as Annie and Bertolt followed, Reiner giving you a big grin, mouthing good for you! before Annie reached for him and yanked him back.

Smiling while shaking your head, your eyes left Reiner before settling on Eren. Your eyes then widened, "I hope he only saw us kissing..."

"Well, he couldn't see much anyway with my back facing him. Not like Annie and Reiner haven't caught us plenty—"

"Eren," you groaned.

"Don't worry," he said, kissing you once more before leaning back and smiling at you, "now Pock knows our secret and can't do shit about it."

#eren yeager #eren jaeger #eren yeager x you #eren yeager x y/n #eren yeager x reader #eren yeager smut #eren jaeger smut #eren jaeger x y/n #eren jaeger x reader #eren jaeger x you #aot smut #aot #aot au #eren yeager au #eren jaeger au #haruno writes;

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klbwriting · 2 months

Text

For Love of Fiction

Part 2

Fandom: Red Hood

Pairing: Jason Todd x f!plus size!reader

Warnings: threats of violence and the teeniest suggestion of threat of SA

Summary: you meet Jason for coffee and he seems to be interested in more dates, you make dinner plans but he cancels so you go to the diner instead, which then is attacked by Joker followers, will Red Hood save you again?

Notes: I may or may not have a part 3 in mind, I don't think this will be a big series or anything, but maybe another part would be fun, or I'll spiral out of control and just write more who knows? Once again, Lewis Tan is the facecast/fancast I have for Jason Todd

“So you didn’t have an Instagram when I asked you to DM me, so you created one just to talk to me?” you asked, sitting at the café across from Jason. You had been exchanging messages for weeks and finally decided to meet up for coffee one morning after he got off work. You could see whatever he did made him tired, but he was putting in an effort for you. He had even complimented you on the book he had gotten at the signing, saying it was your best one, the perfect conclusion to the Red Fox/Layla trilogy, which had you blushing like crazy.

“No, I definitely didn’t have any social media, but I wasn’t missing the chance to talk to you,” he said, words making you melt a little. Normally you would brush off those kinds of words from guys. You knew your self-esteem was shot from a few years of a dry dating market and the few people who did date you only seemed to leave or cheat on you eventually, but Jason didn’t make you feel like that. Even though you had just met really you trusted him, he seemed so sincere and only said what he meant. Of course, it meant you often messaged him a bunch and he would take time to respond, only when he had something to say. But he never made you feel like you talked too much, or that any of your interests were stupid, it was refreshing and made you adore him.

“That is really sweet to do just to talk to me,” you said, sipping your tea, catching a glimpse of someone’s laptop showing a video of Red Hood. “Huh, guess my muse was on patrol last night.” This was another thing that normally drove people away, your fixation on Red Hood, how you called him your muse, or would read up on his exploits for days after they had happened. Jason didn’t seem to mind, in fact when you said muse just now, he blushed a little. Was he annoyed but hiding it?

“Ya, he’s been busy lately,” he said. “So do you think you’d be willing to give me your actual number so I can get rid of Instagram?” You laughed and after a second you nodded, holding your hand out for his phone. He gave it to you and you wrote in your number, handing it back to him. He looked at it, typed something out and put it away. “Texted you so you would know it was me.” You nodded and went to add him to your contacts and you felt your heart stop at the message.

Hey beautiful, want to meet again for dinner?

You looked at him and he smiled, waiting for your reply. You typed up a yes and sent it back before stowing your phone.

“I really hope that says yes,” he said. You laughed and nodded.

“It does. Now tell me about yourself more, I feel like we have all the basics, jobs, interests, a little about family, but what else makes Jason Todd tick?” you asked, splitting the lemon loaf you had bought and sliding half to Jason, noticing that he had downed the egg cups he had bought in about 3 seconds, he seemed hungry. He looked at the offering and then back at you, smiling a little.

“Did I tell you I cook?” he asked. You shook your head. “Ya, my uh, butler taught me how to cook and I really love it. Not my job but something I really like to do.”

“I like to bake; we should do that together sometime! You make dinner and I’ll make dessert!” you said, smiling and getting excited, then pulling back, smile falling a little. This was normally the moment whoever you were with said that you were being too much. But Jason just raised an eyebrow at you, making the white streak in his black pop a little more. You wondered about that white streak and kind of wished you had given Red Fox something like that, it was very hot honestly.

“Why did you stop smiling so much?” he asked. You blushed, hoping he hadn’t noticed. “I love that smile, I like when you get excited, your eyes sparkle, its sweet.” You turned even redder. “How many more compliments until you go full tomato.” You wanted to be mad but could see the playful teasing smile on his lips. He wasn’t saying this to be malicious, he wanted to see you smile again. So, you did, nice and big, throwing in a laugh also. If anything, he seemed more delighted he could make you look like that.

The rest of the date seemed to go like that, you guys talked about what to do on your next date, and then the next one even, him making you smile so much your face hurt. By the time he walked you to your car in the parking garage you were about ready to call it and say you were in love with him. You knew that was crazy, but something about him made you feel so safe and warm that you couldn’t help it. And when he gently kissed you, soft but still somehow full of passion you were speechless.

The next week passed, and you were disappointed when Jason had to cancel dinner, but you understood, work sometimes screwed with relationships, you just hoped it wouldn’t become habit. Since you had planned on dinner out you didn’t make yourself anything and decided to pop down to the nearby diner to get something. It was relatively early still for Gotham, around 8PM, so you hoped it was still safe, but the amount of people in the diner said otherwise. Normally this place was packed with couples, teenagers, students from the nearby university. That night it was you, the waitress, the cook, and only three other people all spread out. You figured you would get your food to go so you waited on a stool as they were fixing your order when in came two guys, dressed like clowns. Great, Joker followers. You did what they said, handing over your purse, but then they looked around, eyeing the waitress who was maybe just out of high school. They walked over to her, telling her to follow them.

“No!” you said, seeing the tears and terror on her face. You moved over, standing in front of her, trying to ignore the gun pointed at your head. “Leave her alone, you have your money get out!” They both laughed.

“Look, we got a hero, let’s make sure she knows what happens to heroes…” one of them said, aiming the gun for your head. You took a breath, trying not to cry yourself, put on a brave face, when the door to the diner smashed open and Red Hood stalked in, the clowns turning their attention to him. You turned, pushing the waitress down to the ground, sliding under the counter as much as you could, pulling any stool within reach in front of you and the younger woman. You watched throw the legs of the stool as Red Hood made quick work of the thieves, cuffing them. Then he looked over, right at you, hiding under the stool, now actually crying at the feeling of being safe, and he punched them both again, knocking them unconscious.

“You’re safe now,” you heard that familiar robotic voice say. You pushed the stools aside, helping the waitress to stand. She immediately went behind the counter, still eyeing the attacks with weary eyes. Red Hood approached you slowly, reaching out and touching your shoulder gently. “Are you ok?” he asked. You weren’t sure why he was paying this much attention to you, but you appreciated it.

“Yes, thank you for saving me again,” you said. He nodded and turned to leave but stopped, looking back at you.

“Thanks for making me your muse,” he said before going out the door.

#jasontodd #jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd x y/n #redhood #red hood #red hood x reader #red hood x you #red hood x y/n #fictionlove

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mahlersgirl · 3 months

Text

more on princess mizu itoh hcs (a part 2 of this)(this accidentally became a small fic as I got invested) (tagging @roninzuzu bc who else shall feed on the dynamic between these two)

as mizu becomes a young woman there are talks of her being married off, but there's the obvious question of what noble house would accept a wife with eyes of an onryo

takayoshi is genuinely worried about his cousin and writes to her about it

her short and angry answer was "worry about your own wedding, I'll be nobody's wife"

it's around this time she runs away from home and takayoshi is sure he had something to do with it and blames himself for mizu being somewhere out there doing god knows what

and for this mizu I think it would be a lot like how akemi ran away to help taigen, except mizu is seeking revenge against the white men and doesn't want to use the itoh family's resources (lots of resentment for being treated like a monster)

it wouldn't be easy at all and she involves herself in lots of trouble that makes her realize that living as a princess, even a neglected one, is still skies above what a commoner samurai would have to go through (again this is akemi arc but add violence)

eventually she would cross paths with mikio (🤮) and maybe he would take her under his wing and care for her after she's severely wounded? it will also evolve into the romance we're acquainted with

now, after the telltale moment in which mikio calls her a monster for handing his ass on a plate during sparring, instead of the bounty hunters being sent to kill her, I can see it being the _itoh family soldiers_ sent to retrieve their princess who had eloped with some good for nothing farmer it seems

not only that, takayoshi is there with them, having missed his sister for a whole year and just relieved he found her again

"how did you find me?" she hissed with slitted eyes full of ire, knife secured in hand ready to decimate his whole troop if he dared to touch her. maybe she would even make him bald for his petulence

takayoshi blinked in astonishment

"you wrote to me, mizu" he said reaching back to get the scroll, his familiar stutter making her feel nostalgic, but not less mad. "you asked me to take you back and bring gold to you and your husband."

and mizu suddenly understands, as mikio materializes by her side, looking unaffected by the number of armed soldiers on his property. she was made into a fool. when mikio looked bewildered she would trade a life of luxuries for revenge, he was in fact envious of her position.

the man mizu loved was a fucking bastard.

he was also the one who first met her blade, to the shock of everyone watching her, a bride covered in the blood of her own husband. she looks at the closest soldier next, looking ready to attack, but takayoshi was faster:

"do not raise your blades at her!" he yelled out his authority, the trembling of his voice diminishing with the loudness. "mizu, let's go home... I'll intercede with my mother on your behalf. we can forget this ever happened."

"takayoshi, in respect of our friendship and the only familial bonds I ever respected," mizu said finally raising her eyes at him, blue meeting brown, the color of the sea and the summer sky who meant a childhood of laughs and promises. "forget I ever existed. this is not your battle to fight. I was never a real part of the itoh family and you know it well. leave me alone and spare me the sin of spilling your blood."

and takayoshi understands, unfortunately, that this was never about both of them being different. mizu was always the one who was hurt the most by her origins and he could never truly know what she went through. he was still the second son of a powerful house and no stuttering or insecurity could take that away from him.

at times, to love someone also meant to let them go. mizu had chosen a path in which he was nothing more than a nuisance. the least he could do was let her be.

he makes his men retreat, but not after putting down the treasure of gold and jewelries he had brought because of the message. he didn't know if she would use any of it, but he wouldn't, either.

"the winter palace will be open." he says before stepping into the carriage. "if not as a cousin, a brother or a friend, perhaps you can still reach me out as an acquaintance. I would enjoy having tea with you once again."

she didn't offer him another word of farewell as his caravan disappeared in the hills and she was bathed by the rain, too mentally exhausted by a reaction. no husband or family, she was fated to be a lonely monster, in the end.

only revenge could keep her satisfied.

#really loved writing this #they need therapy #blue eye samurai #mizu blue eye samurai #takayoshi blue eye samurai

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modelbus · 1 year

Note

Could you Possibly do part 2 for library love?

ABSOLUTELY YES

Check out Part 1 here!

Pairing: Cc!Wilbur soot x Gn!Reader

Library Love - Part 2

You had very little to find Wilbur off of, save for your conversations. The second your shift had finished you set out for the places he mentioned while talking to you. Nothing crazy, just a small cafe and a record store. If you were lucky, he'd be in one so you could finally get his number.

Was this going too far? Eventually he’d come back to the library, or you’d see him around; he couldn’t stay away forever. But you wanted to get his number today—months of pining made you unusually impatient.

Maybe you were pushing your luck though. The cafe held no sign of him. When you had asked the barista in a moment of weakness, she denied anyone by the name of Wilbur being in at all today. That left the record store, barely a block away. You're crossing your fingers the entire walk, and desperately hoping he'd be there.

Of course, you just had to fall for the biggest dumbass in the entire world. Who forgets to leave their number?!

The record shop looks cute from the outside, with a bright sign loudly declaring a sale on record players and posters this week. You're slightly ashamed to say you've never been in here. Hell, you didn’t know it existed before Wilbur mentioned it to you! It’s mainly because you don't own a record player, but you make a promise to yourself to come back when you aren’t on a manhunt.

When you step in, a small bell chimes and the worker immediately greets you.

"Welcome to Rhythm Records! If you need anything just let me know." An employee calls out, bright purple hair obscuring most of her face.

You give her a polite nod, then scan the shop. It's not too large, and you can see the entire place just from your spot at the door. By the registers are tall boxes of posters, and the back wall is covered in shelves of record players. Every other inch contains records upon records. There are so many you nearly miss the whole reason you came in here for!

There, rifling through the record bin labeled "L-M" is Wilbur. Someone heard your silent begging and answered.

"What are you looking for?" You ask, navigating your way to him.

He jumps badly at your voice, eyes wide. "Wha-"

"I found your note. You didn't leave me a number, so I had to find you myself." You answer, fishing the paper out of your pocket.

"Oh." He says dumbly, slowly turning redder by the second. "I knew I was forgetting something! It kept fucking bugging me, but I couldn't figure out what it was, so I just gave up and dropped the books off. I can’t believe I forgot my- wait."

You do, patiently letting him ramble.

"You want my number?"

"Yes, Wil. I want your number.” At his clear incredulousness, you add, “so I can go on a date with you."

If you thought you'd seen him happy before, it was nothing compared to now. His entire face seems to light up along with a giant smile. You can’t help but smile along with him. Absolutely swoon-worthy, if you did say so.

"I mean, I'm not doing anything now if you want to do something now. We could walk around maybe? Or not, if you're busy." He suggests.

"I could clear my schedule." You joke, grinning at him.

"Perfect, I know just the place to go first. Come on."

He offers you his hand, and you take it. His fingertips are calloused from his guitar playing, but it isn't a bad thing. It's just another thing that's undeniably Wilbur.

"What about your record shopping?" You ask after you've already exited the store.

"I was only looking to keep my mind off you. Besides, I probably shouldn't buy anymore."

"You have too many?"

"It's a crippling addiction, one my wallet is suffering for." He says seriously, keeping a completely straight face. Almost as an afterthought, he adds, "and they've started attracting too many e-girls."

"What?!" You exclaim, laughing.

"It's a serious problem! I've started oozing masculine passion!"

"Oh God, we can't have that."

"Don't worry, I'll stop just for you."

That makes your heart do weird things, but you push it down.

It probably takes you too long to realize exactly where you're headed, and when you do you can't help but laugh to yourself.

"What?" He asks, eyes sparkling.

"Nothing, nothing."

“I thought I’d buy you tea or coffee or something to make up for you having to hunt me down.”

“You don’t have to.” You protest. “I didn’t mind the manhunt.”

“I want to.”

Wilbur lets go of your hand to hold open the door for you, making a grand gesture. "After you."

"Why thank you, kind sir."

"Back?" The barista asks. "Oh, you found your dude."

"This might've been the first place I looked for you." You admit to Wilbur.

"That is your dude, right? I haven't just made a fool of myself?" The barista laughs nervously.

"I'm their guy," Wilbur confirms, but he's looking at you.

He's your guy.

#wilbur x you #wilbur soot imagine #wilbur soot x you #wilbur soot x reader #wilbur soot #dsmp #dsmp imagine #mcyt wilbur #mcyt #wilbur mcyt #mcyt imagine #wilbur x reader

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sirthisisa-wendys · 11 months

Note

I AM BITING MY FIST AND SCREAM ABOUT HAND HER OVER II. WE NEED PT2🤲🏻🤲🏻🤲🏻

Let's say what happened after pt - since Koko has money & connections, Inupi & his wife were able to escape safely (or maybe not)

Omi's relationship with his wife crashed really bad after what happend. As a big bro,he always took care & protected who was younger - so he felt very ashamed and guilty that he wasn't able to protect his little wife. He know deep inside that what his wife said wasn't true,she didn't blame him but feel that she doesn't deserve so caring and attentive husband and cries a lot. So he do what he should - make sure she know that he madly in love with her and his number one priority

Well, about Mochi. I am afraid of my imagination, so leave it to yours

I think I'm going to leave Mochi's as is! It seems pretty obvious what happens, no thanks to Sanzu.

Hand Her Over II Part 2: Hajime Kokonoi/Takeomi Akashi x Fem!Reader

Hand Her Over Megapost

wc: 2.1k

tw: angst, Koko is in a poly relationship with Inupi and reader, Inupi is the "hinge" in the V, angst, fluff, angst

masterlist

Hajime Kokonoi

Inupi sits on the couch, furious.

"It's gone too far," he breathes, holding you close. "Mikey's gone too far."

"I know," Kokonoi echoes, looking down at his feet. He can't be on the other side of the room with his lover. He can't even support the two of you like he wants to. It's a shame; he's not sure how things got this bad, but...

"Listen," you add, sitting up straight. "If Mikey can't control himself, we might be in more danger than we originally thought. I'm not sure we can run forever."

"We could," Inupi murmurs, looking over at you with a sad stare. "But it would cost us."

Kokonoi sighs. He shifts his head onto his hands and tries to think. Where did Mikey stop, and where did the real world begin?

"America." Inupi and you inhale sharply. "I have contacts in America that will help for the right price." Koko stands and twists his long hair around his hand briefly. A bad habit he has to get rid of eventually. "I'll send you both that way and then ensure your tracks are covered."

"You're not coming with us?" The question makes Kokonoi flinch. He could never travel with either of you without Mikey knowing. There was too much hinging on his importance to Bonten. Which is why he can't tag along.

"No," he finally admits. "I... I won't be able to go with you." You burst into tears. Kokonoi's heart wrenches in two; he loves you. He really does. And he loves Inupi. But there's no way that he can go with you two without putting you in danger.

"I'll make sure you two won't have to lift a finger while we're apart." Inupi pulls you into his chest, where you sob. "And..."

"Koko," Inupi breathes. "You don't have to stay."

"I do," he repeats, standing firm. "I'll stay behind to make sure the both of you have the best chance at staying alive and safe." Your tears don't stop, not even when Koko presses a kiss to your forehead and wipes them from your eyes with gentle thumbs. "Take care of Inupi."

You clutch him even closer, and that in itself is a comfort to him. He's felt loved before, but your reluctance to let him go makes him feel adored. "Inupi, take care of her."

"I'm giving you a month to come get us." Inupi stands just a foot away, but it couldn't be any further. Koko already feels the distance in his heart. And it's a raw ache, the type he knows he might never recover from in this lifetime. Inupi joins in, hugging Koko tightly and inhaling his scent one last time.

"Don't forget about us."

"Impossible," Koko laughs, though his eyes prick with tears. "I would never forget about my favorite people in the entire world."

Kokonoi wouldn't be a good partner if he didn't see you two off at the airport. He holds your passports with an iron grip, praying you two would turn around and stay and fight with him. But when he hands them over, Kokonoi understands he's to face his fines creation - Bonten - on his own.

"Call me when you make it," Koko murmurs, adjusting Inupi's scarf and your jacket. "I'll be waiting by the phone."

"Get some rest," you urge him, touching his cheek gently. The ring on your finger will stay there; it's still a symbol of the promise Koko made to your family to provide for you and keep you safe.

"And don't linger by the window," Inupi adds, his own hand sporting a golden band - from Koko, but to anyone outside of the three of them, it'd look like they were a married couple. Koko nods.

"Your flight will be leaving soon." Inupi ushers you away, and Koko watches wistfully, touching his own fake passport in his pocket. I could still go with them. Kokonoi looks at the ticket counter, eyeing the various people clicking away at the keyboards and weighing baggage.

"Wait," Koko whispers, looking back at your retreating figures. "Wait!" You hear him first, turning around to stare at him hopefully. Koko hurries up to the two of you, his hands shaking and his mouth forming soundless words. Inupi frowns as Koko stands in front of you both, his eyes trying to drink their fill of the couple.

"D-don't..." Kokonoi isn't sure if he can say it. "Don't..." You both stand there expectantly, and Koko can see the desire in your eyes. You want him to go with you. And maybe...

"Don't--" Koko's phone begins to buzz angrily. He stops, sucking in a harsh breath. "Don't forget about the time change." Your shoulders slump. Inupi grunts. He reaches into his back pocket and pulls out his phone, seeing the name scroll across the top. Your teary hiccup is the last thing you muster before pulling free from Inupi and walking toward security. Inupi, ever the cynic, exhales and turns around, but not before muttering,

"You'll always choose him, won't you?"

When Koko picks up the call, Inupi turns away, scrubbing the tears from his eyes.

Takeomi Akashi

It's not like Takeomi to come home drunk in the middle of the day. But he staggers over the threshold, holding himself up by a thread. He hadn't been this bad since Shin died, and yet--

Something shatters when he opens the door, and Takeomi swears. When he looks behind the wooden frame, he sees a little project of yours lying on the floor in a million pieces. Whatever it had been, it's destroyed beyond repair.

"I'll... I'll... fix it," Takeomi mutters, closing the door behind him and gripping the wall for the strength to stand up.

"Not again." An exasperated sigh comes from the kitchen, and Takeomi slides down the wall, trying to take his shoes off. "I'm caring for you every day," you gripe, stomping to meet him in the foyer. "You're a lazy, drunk old man."

Takeomi burps, forgetting his efforts to untie his shoes and leaving them on as he sprawls on the floor. You approach him, face set in a grim line.

"Shoes," he slurs, pointing at his feet. "Can't get 'em off." You silently fume, but your fingers pluck at his laces, untying and undoing all of the work he'd done on them before.

"You come in drunk every day," you hiss angrily. "I have to... clean up after you, and for what?"

"Thanks," Takeomi whispers slowly, feeling your hands tug his shoes off. "Thanks, beh-beh. Shoes were really tight. Hurt." You stoop low and pull him up off the floor - your strength never ceases to amaze him - and he stumbles along with you to the bedroom. He hiccups a few times as he drags his feet, but Takeomi's mind is working at a mile a minute. It's his body that isn't responding properly.

"Y'know," he begins, wiping his mouth. "I could... we should do that thing people do when they're... together." You slide him onto the bed without responding, your eyes averted from his face. "We could... should... watch some TV and trash talk... shitty people."

"No TV," you murmur, taking off his tie and tossing it aside. "You need to watch TV like you need another hole in your head."

Takeomi laughs, pointing at each hole - two ears, one mouth, two nostrils... he has five already! "Maybe I need an extra one to round it out," he replies, leaning back on the bed and sighing. "Could use another one for all of these thoughts." You don't reply again, shifting him onto the bed fully and covering him with the sheets.

"Sleep it off," you command Omi, and he obeys, pretending to fall asleep immediately while making loud snoring noises. You grunt, putting a pillow over his face, and he laughs as he takes it off.

"Funny girl." You shake your head, the look of displeasure still on your face, and get up from the bed all in one movement. So graceful.

"I'll be in the kitchen. Shout if you need me." Takeomi opens his mouth to shout, but you add, "If it's an emergency."

"It is," he whines. "It's an emergency when you're not here."

"I'll be in the kitchen," you say again. "Five-alarm level emergencies only."

"What about six alarms?" You roll your eyes and give him a playful swat before leaving the bedroom. Takeomi debates on whether he should shout your name for the hell of it or just keep quiet and let you work on whatever you did when he wasn't here. He opts for the latter and lays back in the bed. His head is thumping with the blood that's pumping behind his eyes.

"Ugh..." Right now, Takeomi wants to swear off drinking for good. The hangover is never worth it. Takeomi exhales sharply, then resigns himself to sleep, like he should.

He wakes up in the middle of the night drenched in sweat. It's hot in the room, and... his hand feels around in the darkness. You're not there.

"Baby?" Takeomi gets up out of bed slowly, trying not to trip over himself or anything else he may have left on the floor. "Babe?" His throat is parched, and he feels like death... but he needs to ensure you're okay first.

Something tugs in his gut when he hears a soft sob, and he opens the door fully before stumbling into the light of the foyer. He holds his breath and peers around the corner, finding you at the kitchen table, holding your phone to your ear as you cry.

"No, no," you choke out. "It's just... I know everything is weighing on Omi. He comes home drunk most afternoons, and I..." You break off, then sniff. "I take care of him because I know everything was so stressful, and I love him. I just don't think he loves me anymore." Takeomi clenches his jaw. Here you are, worried to death about him when your assumptions couldn't be further from the truth.

Takeomi enters the kitchen nonchalantly as if he hadn't heard what you just said. He yawns, wiping his face, then sees you wiping your eyes quickly and whispering, "I'll call you later" into the phone.

"You alright, Omi?" you wonder, standing up from the kitchen table. Takeomi shrugs, opening the fridge and grabbing a water bottle.

"Throat's sore as hell." He takes a few swigs, then turns to you.

"I can make you some tea if you want," you reply, smiling. Your nose is still red, but Takeomi can forgive that.

"I need a hug and a kiss." He opens his arms for you, and you oblige, leaning into his embrace and tucking your semi-wet face into his skin. "And a kiss?"

At his reminder, you lift your face, close your eyes, and pucker your lips. But Takeomi doesn't kiss you. Instead, he wipes your wet eyes, staring down at your puffy face in adoration.

"Why do you cry, my sweet?" he whispers, and you open your eyes. You look so sad, so forlorn, so dismayed. Takeomi's heart stops at the sight. "Are you upset with me?"

"No," you affirm, shaking your head. "Never."

"Then why are these tears running down my baby's face?" Takeomi wipes the fresh ones and clicks his tongue as you press your face back into his chest. "This won't do," he coos at you, stooping to pick you up. He scoops you into his arms and carries you to the bed, holding you against his chest even as he sits down on the comfy king. He positions you so your head is on his chest and you're straddling him; his hands run over your back and caress whatever he can touch.

"You know," Takeomi begins, regaining some sensibility. "I once had an awful time with my brother. Couldn't take care of him for shit. The guilt ate me up for years." Takeomi swallows hard. "Thought I had gotten past it." The unspoken fact that he still hadn't gotten past it didn't need to be mentioned. You knew already.

"Anyway, you shouldn't beat yourself up over all this." Takeomi strokes your hair carefully, leaning back onto the headboard. "This one was all me."

"Omi," you whimper, but he shushes you.

"I can handle it." His shoulders slump. "I'll take the blame for this. But you're my number one priority."

"But you'll drink--"

"No," Takeomi asserts. "It's not helping." You pull away from him, leaving his chest a wet, cold mess. You sniff and look up at him, holding his face between your hands.

"We should see someone about this. About everything."

"I'd do that for you." He takes your hand and kisses each fingertip, savoring the feeling of the unique fingerprint rubbing against his skin. What would he have done if you'd been taken away from him like Shin? "For us." He tilts your chin up with tender fingers. "And I still love you." And he kisses you like he means it.

#tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x reader #hajime kokonoi x reader #hajime kokonoi #takeomi akashi x reader #takeomi akashi

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runningfrom2am · 10 months

Text

achilles heel - IV: maybe it's the lighting

summary:

Grace is the very opposite of her brother in every way. when she finally moves onto campus at UNC Chapel Hill, she feels like she gets to be her own person, make her own friends, and hopefully start a promising career in the museum industry, and maybe, one day, get married to her high school sweetheart and live the American dream for herself. Rafe Cameron however, upon their very first meeting, throws a wrench in her very perfect plan.

tags/warnings:

rafe cameron x fem!oc, rafe is giving very much homewrecker, fanon!rafe (kinda), college!au, friends to lovers, slow-burn (maybe?), minimal oc description, drug and alcohol use, mostly unedited, (these tags are not exhaustive, lmk if i should add anything!)

wc: 3k

my master list

series masterlist

requests

January 8th, 2019

Grace sat alone in her dorm, staring down the laptop and open textbook on her desk, seemingly taunting her. She's already well ahead, but so far her college experience has proven to her that it will never be enough.

Her phone vibrates on the desk next to her and she quickly picks it up, thankful for the excuse to take a break.

unknown number: 'coming tn?'

It must be Rafe.

g: still undecided

She quickly replies, then changes his contact name.

r: well if it influences your decision, i've got a bottle of malibu with your name on it

g: ooh that actually might change my mind

r: you know where to find it !

Grace puts her phone down on her desk instead of replying, looking at the time and turning in her chair to look at her closet, trying to figure out what she was going to wear.

When Grace gets there, after riding her bike down side streets and back paths to hide from any car that may contain Nate, she hides her bike by their back fence and walks up to the front door. Does she knock? The music is already loud and there's loads of people around so she doubts it, settling for opening it and walking in.

There's already people everywhere, and the lights are off with colourful flashing LED strip lights lining every edge of the ceiling. Somehow, Grace finds herself breathing a sigh of relief when she realizes it would be difficult for Nate to pick her out in this.

"Hey! Grace!" She hears her name, and quickly Rafe is at her side. "I'm glad you made it!"

"Hey! Uh- is Nate here yet?" Grace replies, looking up at the boy standing next to her.

"I don't think so, no." Rafe assures her, a smirk pulling on his lips as he brings his cup up to his lips. "Why? You didn't ask?"

"No- I figured what he doesn't know can't worry him." Grace shrugs.

"Ah, gotcha. Come on. I've got your drinks upstairs." He puts his arm behind her back, ushering her upstairs without touching her. Although, it would be so easy to just let his hand brush across the unintentionally exposed skin of her back between her crop top and her skirt.

Rafe fumbled with the buttons on his door, eventually getting it open and gesturing for her to follow him in before shutting it. "Uh, one sec-" He says, digging through a few paper bags from the liquor store before pulling out a bottle of Malibu and a six-pack of mountain dew.

"My favourite!" Grace claps excitedly, holding out her hands to take them from him. "Did Ben send you out for these? I'll pay you back."

"Nah, don't worry about it." Rafe waves her off as he passes them over. "Looks disgusting- by the way. You need a cup?"

Grace puts her bag and drinks down on his bed, digging through her tote bag for her empty cup. "I brought one, I'm good." She replies, holding it up to show him before screwing off the lid. "And don't knock it 'til you try it. Seriously- I was skeptical too."

"If you say so." Rafe chuckles, shaking his head at her as she opens a can and pours it into her cup, then adding what was probably more than a couple shots of Malibu to top it off. She screws the lid back on and mixes it with the straw, holding the cup out to him.

Rafe reaches out and takes it, side-eying her as he does, hesitantly taking a sip. His eyes widen and he nods, handing it back. "Okay- I'll eat my words. That's pretty good."

"I know, right?" Grace grins, taking the first sip herself. "It's a dangerous drink, though." She muses, looking around the room they find themselves in, the lighting a stark difference from the rest of the house. It's well-lit, and more clean than she expected from any room in a frat house. Definitely cleaner than her brothers, if she's making assumptions based on his room back at home. "I like your room." She thinks out loud.

"Oh, thanks," Rafe replies, looking around as well. "You came on a good day. I cleaned earlier this week."

"Hey, would you mind if I left my stuff in here? I don't really want to carry my bag around." Grace asks, moving her bag from the bed to the floor, along with her drinks.

Rafe nods. "Yeah! Totally. The door code is 2-0-0-7 if you need to come in without me for anything." He explains, opening the door for them to head back out.

"Who was born that year?" Grace asks, tilting her head as she looks up at him, making her way into the hallway.

"Uh, my sister, Wheezie."

"You have a sister? That's sweet!" Grace smiles, scanning the hall and downstairs for the familiar face of her boyfriend.

"I've got two, actually. Sarah is only a couple of years younger than me." Rafe explains, laughing a little as he can tell she's not paying much attention, too focused on looking over every face she can find. "Want to play pong? We've got a table out back, he's likely to come in the front." He suggests.

"Oh! Yeah, that sounds good." Grace nods, following him down the stairs and to the back door, dodging drunk people the whole way.

"Grace you made it! Are you gonna play?" She's greeted by her brother, standing at the end of the table just setting up some cups, clearly already at least tipsy.

Grace takes a sip out of her cup and nods. "Sweet! Dream team back at it again." He grins, coming over and being careful not to kick anyone's drinks on the ground.

"Hey, no way- home team advantage. I want Grace." Rafe protests, laughing and giving Ben a gentle shove back.

"I don't care, we'll play a few anyways I think, yeah?" Grace giggles and her brother relents, sighing dramatically.

"Fine, just say you hate me next time, Gigi." He jokes, making her roll her eyes.

"Woah, Gigi?" Rafe asks, raising an eyebrow at the nickname.

"Don't get any ideas- he only calls me that because I hate it." Grace insists. "Let's just shoot for first turn, yeah?" She changes the subject, stepping to the opposite end of the table from her brother.

They didn't end up changing teams, after Rafe and Grace beat Ben and Kelce on the first go, then the second, and then the third. "New and improved dream team! Let's go!" Rafe smiles, holding both his hands up for the girl to high-five him after Kelce misses their redemption shot for the fourth time. Grace laughs as she smacks her hands against his, and she doesn't even notice as he folds their fingers together, holding onto her hands for probably longer than he should have.

"Ben! Buddy!" Grace freezes when she hears a familiar voice coming from inside. Luckily they were on the side of the table that wasn't visible from the glass patio door or windows, and she looks between Rafe and her brother in a panic.

"Shit- that him?" Rafe asks in a loud whisper, and doesn't give her time to answer before he's hauling her off the porch with their entangled hands, ducking down behind a bush as she quickly follows.

"Hey, man, what's up?" Ben says, trying to be polite. Just like he promised his sister.

"Not much." Nate shrugs, Grace and Rafe watching from behind the large plant and trying to stay out of sight. "You, uh, playing by yourselves out here?" He chuckles, gesturing to the empty side of the table.

"No, dude, Rafe was just-" Kelce says, looking around to try and spot the two of them as they quickly duck down farther.

"He went to grab another drink, don't know where Alex went, though." Ben cuts him off, dropping a random name of another guy on their team.

"Right, yeah. They should be back in a minute." Kelce agrees hesitantly, catching on now.

"Sorry, man, Kelce, this is my sister's boyfriend. Nate." Ben introduces him, giving him a look of 'don't snitch on her, she's not supposed to be here'.

Kelce nods. "Gotcha, nice to meet you, man. I'm Kelce." He glances briefly down at the bush their friends were hiding behind.

"C'mon, let's go around..." Rafe whispers, letting go of her hand and gesturing for her to follow as they crawl around the siding, just out of sight from the porch light.

Grace giggles, stumbling as they can fully stand up beside the wall. "Why did you hide? This isn't your problem."

"For fun." Rafe shrugs, smiling down at her. He can't help but admire how the streetlights reflect of her eyes and land on her face in all the right places. "We're the dream team, your chances are better if we stick together."

"You're probably right, I don't know shit about this house." Grace laughs, shaking her head and glancing back around the corner.

"Bet you wish you visited Ben once or twice now, huh?" Rafe smirks, leaning against the wall.

"Maybe a little," Grace admits, looking up at him again. God, how is she just noticing now how handsome this guy is? Maybe it's the lighting. No, it’s definitely the drinks.

"C'mon, let's go around the front and we'll get you a refill, yeah?" Rafe suggests and Grace nods, simultaneously shaking herself out of her thoughts. He grabs her hand and pulls her around to the front, both of them crouching and peaking in the windows before entering through the front door. Now the house is much more crowded, and Grace is sure if she let go of Rafe she would lose him in a minute, so she holds tighter onto his hand as he leads her towards the stairs.

Grace looks towards the back door, seeing Nate come back in and he's instantly heading in their direction, looking around for one or more of his friends from class. "Rafe- Rafe!" She shouts over the music, tapping his arm with her free hand, and pointing to Nate who's getting much closer when he turns to look at her.

Rafe's quick to open a closet door next to them, shoving her in and following suit, quickly closing the door. It's tight in there, and their pressed chest to chest, and Grace is surprised she can hear both of them breathing over the loud music just outside the door.

"How long do we wait?" Grace whispers as she crouches down as best she can to put her cup down, despite the impossibility that anyone could hear them anyways.

"I don't know, should be good in a minute or two," Rafe whispers back, focussing on trying to make out the shape of her face and features in the dark once she stands back up. He can faintly make out her cheekbones, her long eyelashes, he can kind of see her nose too, based on that. Then her lips. Not so much that he can see them, more that he can feel her breath on his neck; thanks to their height difference.

"Okay, yeah." Grace whispers back, nodding and accidentally hitting Rafe's chin with her forehead. "Ow! Oops- oh my god! I'm so sorry!" She laughs quietly, instantly covering her mouth with her hands.

"It's fine, its fine." Rafe laughs back, reaching up and rubbing his chin. "Are you okay? I feel like that hurt you more than me."

"Oh my god, Rafe, I'm the one who just domed you with my big ass forehead." Grace giggles, shaking her head- more mindfully this time as she covers her face with her hands.

"No, no you're good. It's fine." He insists. "Also, your forehead is not that big." He teases her, laughing quietly.

"Oh, gee, thanks, Rafe."

"Yeah, you're welcome." Rafe smirks, looking down at her.

"I think we're probably good." Grace says, leaning down to pick up her cup again, losing her balance and falling against the wall in the small space. "Jesus christ, how did Harry Potter live like this..." She mutters, trying to brush off her clothes, worried that this closet in a frat house hasn't been properly cleaned in decades.

"I have no idea..." Rafe chuckles, cracking the door open and stepping out as Grace stands up, practically falling out after him. She stabilizes herself, looking down at her shirt to make sure its not as dirty as she thought, brushing off some stray dust from the wall as she takes a long sip out of her straw. "Grace?" Her head snaps up as she hears her name, the straw quickly dropping out of her mouth as she sees her boyfriend standing in front of her. Of course he would be right outside the door. "Uh, what are you doing here?"

Rafe makes a nervous face as he looks between the two of them, cringing at the state of her, her dirty clothes and messy hair from crawling through the bushes. He knows what this looks like. "Hey, Nate, right? Nice to meet you, man." He decides to intervene, holding a hand out to him to shake.

Nate ignores him, only briefly sparing him a glare before returning his eyes to Grace. "What were you doing... in the closet?" He asks, looking over her and into the open closet door.

"Oh! Uh, I just, well-" One thing about Grace is that she's a bad liar, but even telling the truth wouldn't do her any favours this time.

"You know what? I don't want to know. You guys have fun." Nate scoffs, shoving past Rafe and walking towards the door.

"Wait! Nathan, wait! I can explain! I swear it's not what you think-" Grace calls after him, quickly following behind him out the door.

"Okay, fine. Fine, Grace. Tell me your excuse." Nathan sighs as they get outside, turning to face her.

"I-" Grace sighs, looking down. "I was hiding from you. I just didn't want you to be worried about me, I wanted to have fun and I didn't want to rain on your parade, or whatever, so I just thought it would be better if you didn't know I was here."

"Right." Nate nods, clearly not believing her. "So you were hiding in a ten square foot closet, with your brothers frat buddy, so I wouldn't worry about you? Am I understanding that correctly?"

"Yes, yes. Exactly. Babe, I swear that's the truth." Grace pleads, hoping he'll believe her. "I wouldn't ever cheat on you, you know that."

"Oh, fuck off, Grace." Nate says angrily, balling up his fists. "Do you think I'm stupid? Seriously? God you are so anserine sometimes! I can't take it anymore! I'm honestly relieved that you're cheating on me- I can hardly function when you talk about stupid, absolutely daft garbage all the time! You act like you're smarter than me- which is honestly laughable!" He snaps, and Grace's hope fades as he speaks. She doesn't know what to say, tears welling up in her eyes.

"Nate, I- I didn't know you felt that way..." She says, voice shaking. "Why didn't you say something?"

"No- you don't get to talk to her like that. Get out of here, man. You and your stupid, entitled engineering buddies are banned." Rafe steps in suddenly, standing at Grace's side as he glares at her boyfriend.

Nate rolls his eyes, laughing sarcastically and shaking his head. "Yeah, whatever. You can have her." He waves them off dismissively, stepping down the porch stairs and walking off into the street.

Rafe looks over at Grace, who is just staring at him as he walks away, chin wobbling while she resists bursting into tears. "Hey, hey its okay. Come here..." He says, pulling her into a hug and holding her head against his chest. This is when she breaks. She sobs into his chest, holding tightly onto the front of his shirt.

"We'll get you up to my room, then I'll go get Ben. Okay?" He suggests, rubbing her back and pulling away, placing his hands on her shoulders.

"You- you don't understand." Grace sniffles, trying to take deep breaths. "He's my person. We're meant to be together, we're meant to get married and have a life together, and, and-" She chokes out, starting to shake again as she sobs. "Oh god, I just don't know what I did to fuck it up so badly." She tries to explain, leaning into him again and squeezing her eyes shut.

"You didn't do anything, Grace. It wasn't you. He shouldn’t talk about you like that, he’s just a dick." Rafe mumbles, wrapping his arms around her again. "I think I should get Ben- just come back inside with me, okay?"

Grace is quick to shut that idea down. "No, Ben is just.. Ben is just going to say 'thank god' and make fun of it, I can't tell him. He won't get it."

"Okay, okay. I won't tell him." Rafe assures her quickly, looking around now at the luckily empty front lawn. He doesn't know what to do, but he's thankful that at least there's no one around to witness this.

He's never comforted anyone before, not really, especially not a drunk girl at a party. Typically he'd turn up his nose and look the other way, but this time feels so different. He'd do anything he could to help- especially if that included chasing Nate down and beating him to a pulp and leaving him on the sidewalk to die. Something tells him Grace doesn’t want that, though.

“Would you like another drink? Will that help?” Rafe chuckles, pulling away slightly to look down at her as she nods. It’s the best he could offer her, knowing he doesn’t know how to help. Usually his best method is a new drink.

“My cup is almost empty..” She sniffles, trying to laugh despite her feeling true heartbreak, for the first time ever.

“Okay, come on. We’ll get you another.” Rafe chuckles, guiding her back inside with his hand placed gently on her lower back.

taglist: @newbooksmell777, @tahliac11, @slut4drudy, @madelynie, @angelw33dz, @mutual-mendes, @winterrrnight, @sadfury, @totalswag, @peachprairie (as always reply or message me to be added or removed!)

#rafe cameron #obx fanfic #obx #rafe obx #outer banks #rafe fic #rafe cameron x oc #rafe fanfiction #rafe imagine #outerbanks rafe #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe outer banks

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thebestbooksaround · 11 months

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okay, first of all, thank you for your service! your recs are amazing

i just wanted to ask if you could rec as many rewrite fics as possible? episode rewrites, season rewrites that kind of thing? and if people could keep adding on itd be great?

theyre my fav genre tbh but they can be so hard to find :(

thank you so much!!

Oh boy, I sure can Anon!

I'm going to assume you mean 9-1-1, if you meant another fandom, let me know and I'll search for those. Some of these are rewrites by proxy? As in all the events happen but some are text fics so you only hear about them. If anyone has some to add, please do!

Without further ado...

We All Fall Down by kristen999 (@thekristen999)

He’d done this before. Inside the well. Trapped forty feet underground instead of in a tin can, rising water the constant threat.

Eddie stared at the radio, knowing this time there’d be someone on the other end to hear him if he needed to say something. If his time his second chances had finally run out.

He wouldn’t die alone. Not really. His team would be there. Just inches away. He could tell them, tell Buck….

glue by ProsperDemeter

“It’s just…” Connor shrugged. “No offense, man, but… you’re twenty-five. Do you really want to be spending so much time falling for a guy with a kid?”

“I’m not falling for him.”

A month away from graduating the LAFD Academy, Evan Buckley gets introduced to new recruit Eddie Diaz and things certainly change for both of them after that.

This author is also writing a s2 rewrite!

Firefighter Buckley's Unauthorized Ride-Along by slipperywordcrimes

Buck spends most of his probationary year with a bun in the oven, and doesn't realize it.

One Wrong Number by calinaannehart (@calinaannehart)

When Evan Buckley meets a man in a bar and gets his number, he couldn't possibly imagine how one wrong digit could lead him to his fate. Because sometimes wrong numbers are the right numbers.

bro·ken by kristen999 (@thekristen999)

Forced to take shady side jobs to pay his bills, Evan Buckley doesn’t think he’s ever seen such rock bottom. Until he meets Eddie Diaz, a man even more desperate and alone. Season 3 AU.

if it weren’t for second chances by alasse (@alasse9)

When Buck doesn’t save Daniel, the Buckleys put him in foster care. Seventeen years later, Bobby meets a tall, lanky kid who can’t stop eating his pancakes at a church breakfast, and he gives him a phone number and an unconditional offer of help.

A story about how Buck finds a chosen family, and with a few twists and turns, eventually gets to the 118, meets Eddie Diaz, and maybe finds himself a second and a third (or, an Evan Nash story).

Our story's been heartache and wonder by Tails89 (@tails89)

Fuck.

Buck scrubs a hand down his face. He’s got no idea what he’s supposed to do here.

He knows what his parents are like. He has his own childhood to draw from, and Isaac doesn't deserve that. He deserves to grow up surrounded by love, and if nothing else, Buck can give him that.

But Buck is also a twenty-six year old probationary firefighter, living in his girlfriend’s apartment while she travels the world. He’s not exactly in a position to look after a kid.

“Okay.” It comes out in a rush of air. “I’m gonna come get you."

no one quite like you by hammersmiths (@henswilsons)

Hen has added +1 213 555 to Firehouse 118

Hen: This is Eddie!

Eddie: Hey everyone :)

Buck: Why would she add him to our private groupchat

Chimney: I’m literally sitting right next to you

or, Buck and Eddie’s progression through texts.

Tighten Up by ok_thanks

It’s probably considered getting off on the wrong foot when you have sex with your coworker before they start their new job, right?

Buck would think it’s probably not a good thing, and definitely something that shouldn’t be repeated. Especially when he becomes best friends with them. That’d be particularly stupid.

Close My Eyes and Stumble (Right Into Your Love) by HMSLusitania (@hmslusitania)

Eddie's PTSD is just that little bit worse and when he moves to Los Angeles, instead of joining the LAFD, he joins dispatch.

Which is all good and fine, except for this one firefighter he keeps ending up talking to.

we were born with nothing by chromatophorica (@chromatophorica)

Until the 118, Evan had never had a family.

---

Evan saves Daniel when he's a baby; he still manages to find his way to the 118, forging a family there despite being given up by his biological parents.

I Didn't Know I Was Lonely 'Til I Saw Your Face by HMSLusitania (@hmslusitania)

After the ladder truck and the blood clot and the tsunami, Bobby makes Buck go to therapy before he does something stupid(like sue the city). Buck's not totally comfortable being alone with a therapist, but fortunately he makes a friend and ally who's willing to help him out - Eddie Diaz from the 136 who's just been caught in an illegal fight club.

Total strangers Buck and Eddie go to couple's therapy together to get out of the therapy requirements their captains have placed on them.

i want your midnights by allyasavedtheday (@littlespoonevan)

Eddie grins. “Yeah I get that. So can I ask why you applied for the room? No offence but you’re not exactly the kind of candidate I expected.”

Buck laughs, ducking his head. That’s probably true.

“I, uh, I’ve been staying at my girlfriend’s place while she’s travelling but um, my sister moved to LA recently and sort of made the point that I could be overstaying my welcome? Or, well- actually she tried to tell me my girlfriend’s cheating on me and I need to get over it and move out of her place.” Buck shakes his head, eyes widening at what he just implied. “She’s not! Cheating, I mean. She’s just- trying to find herself after losing her mom. She just needs a little space, y’know?”

At least, that’s the excuse Buck’s giving Abby for why she hasn’t called him in over two weeks.

Eddie nods with a vague sort of expression on his face like he hadn’t expected him to overshare that much. Which, oops.

In which Eddie decides to rent out his spare room to help with mortgage repayments right around the time Buck decides to move out of Abby's place after some not so gentle prodding from Maddie. It's a coincidence. Or serendipity. Or maybe just really good timing.

*and of course we can't forget:

Those Two Firefighters by DarkFairytale

#thosetwofirefighters starts to gather a following on social media, as everyone tries to figure out if those two cute firefighters from the 118 in LA are a thing or not.

#tb2a answers #fics i love #buddiefanfiction #buddie fic

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veliseraptor · 6 months

Text

twenty questions for fic writers

tagged by @feralkwe - thank you! I feel like I've done this before but if I have it's been a minute so

1. How many works do you have on AO3? across pseuds I have 1,010 works. with my "current" one I'm at 607. that is more or less my entire oeuvre, though there's a fair number of short fics on tumblr I haven't gotten around to crossposting though I'd ostensibly like to at some point. eventually. maybe.

2. What’s your total AO3 word count? 4,873,723. aYIKES. but hey closing in on 5 million! wonder when I'll hit that. I bet I would if I posted my unfinished wips for the mcu tbh

3. What fandoms do you write for? ever or currently? the list of fandoms I have written at least one fic for (not counting ones where the one fic was a crossover) is [deep breath] the mcu, the untamed/mdzs, supernatural, the silmarillion, a song of ice and fire, black jewels trilogy, wheel of time, doctrine of labyrinths, death note, the caliban leandros series, avatar the last airbender, kinnporsche, doctor who, buffy the vampire slayer/angel, gentleman bastard sequence, marvel comics, harry potter, temeraire, good omens, code geass, realm of the elderlings, greek mythology, dragon age, sandman, dexter, lymond chronicles, the firekeeper saga, lucifer (the tv series), crimson peak, kushiel's legacy, the x men movies, chronicles of narnia, twilight, and a couple other small book fandoms.

i used to be a lot more multifandom than i am now in terms of what i wrote for, and have been writing fic for which is how this happened.

4. What are your top five fics by kudos? Not my favorite fics, for the most part. They are:

Life in Reverse (MCU)

With Absolute Splendor (The Untamed)

some good mistakes (The Untamed)

half a league onward (MCU)

The Villain Wrangler (MCU)

5. Do you respond to comments? I do not. I feel bad about it, but (a) I don't know what to say, (b) I feel unbearably self-conscious/self-important trying and (c) I already have too much I'm trying to do in my limited time/too many obligations I have placed upon myself to add another one that will just stress me out. Again, I have all kinds of guilt about this, though, which probably kind of defeats the (c) purpose of not doing it.

6. What’s the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? Almost certainly Mercy, though it's possible I could dig up others; that's the literal murder-suicide one, though, and I'm pretty sure I've only written one of those. I've written a lot where one character dies but another survives and has to live with the grief, which is arguably worse? but I still think Mercy wins. once there was a way to get back home might give it a run for its money, though.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? I've actually written a fair amount of fic with happy endings! just mostly they have to suffer to get there. but trying to think of fic with a straight happy ending...I feel like I wrote some fairly fluffy fic in Black Jewels Trilogy fandom that I don't want to link to because I don't think it's very good. Maybe Life in Reverse, honestly? That's a fic where I tied up most things and resolved them in a pretty happy way.

Oh, or actually With Absolute Splendor might qualify.

8. Do you get hate on fics? I have in the past! Not a lot, but it happens every so often. Usually I just delete it, tbh; it doesn't feel worth leaving it there and I'm certainly not going to respond to it.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind? Sure do, primarily for pairings that are dysfunctional in one way or another, and for the most part I want the sex to say something about the inner life/psychology of the characters I'm writing. truly plotless smut does happen but I find it weirdly difficult. I have to do so much pre-justification work for my smut, at least in my head if not on page.

a lot of what I write at least has a little bit of kink or D/s flavor to it even if it's not explicitly written as such (and a lot of it is at least a little explicitly written as such). I also like to write about power dynamics (in sex) and sex that's sublimating some other emotion or desire, if that latter makes sense.

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written? I used to, but not anymore, and I probably won't; I don't know why, but I'm just generally not a crossover fan these days. But I did write a Lord of the Rings/Cthulhu Mythos Morgoth/Cthulhu fic back in the day. No, I'm not going to link it, you can find it if you really want.

The Scarlet Pimpernel/Black Jewels Trilogy might be objectively weirder but it was because of an RP and therefore feels more reasonable to me.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? I had forgotten about it until just now, but yes, actually. Including one that actually got reposted on AO3, which takes a particular kind of guts that's not the same as reposting on Wattpad or the like, imo. (I've also had fic scraped off AO3 and reposted on other sites.) The person took it down when I called them out on it.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? I have been fortunate enough to have a number of fics translated into a few languages! I was curious which ones so I went and looked, and it looks like I've had fic translated into Russian, Chinese, and Japanese.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? I've started co-writing a fic but never finished one.

14. What’s your all-time favorite ship? Might have to give this one to xuexiao, though there's a lot of room in my heart for many ships! that's just one that hit an incredible number of my favorite things squarely on the head several times, leaving me concussed and helpless. It's so much, you guys.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will? There's a number of my MCU wips that I look at and am like "yeah what I have of this is good actually, too bad I'll almost certainly never finish it", among which is Dead Superheroes Walking, the fic about everyone who died in Infinity War being trapped inside the Soul Stone and having to work together to fix the ensnappening from the inside. I have about 3/4 of it written if not more and the remaining quarter will probably remain unfinished. It was Wanda POV and a lot about Wanda and Loki bonding.

another one is the one where Hela decides instead of fighting Odin to strategically back down and plan to overthrow him later, and therefore is around while Loki and Thor are growing up. I really liked what I had of this one, and really enjoyed writing Hela's POV, but again. don't think I'm going to end up finishing it.

I have a whole folder called "MCU Salvage" that's basically my MCU wips that I parsed out because I was like "these are pretty good actually, maybe someday I'll have the motivation to return to them", which is probably delusional but, well. one never knows.

16. What are your writing strengths? I think I'm pretty good at dialogue - I love to write characters having conversations, probably to a fault - and, when it comes to fanfiction, characterization.

17. What are your writing weaknesses? Worldbuilding for sure is one. I hate it, I don't think I'm very good at it. also description - I feel like I lean heavily on dialogue in fic and tend to go light on descriptive language. this is probably partly because I'm not a very imagery-focused reader, so I don't think a lot about creating a "visual" with my writing, but also because I just don't like doing it as much as I like writing about internal thought processes and interpersonal verbal exchanges.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic? I almost certainly would not do it, as someone who is monolingual and has zero confidence in my ability to do it right in a way that wouldn't read absolutely awfully. The one exception to this is in Lymond fic, and that's because the canon did it first, so it is fully justifiable for me to have this guy spout off in five languages in one fic. Otherwise...not since I tried writing a fake Phantom of the Opera fic mocking bad Phantom of the Opera fics.

19. First fandom you wrote for? I always say Wheel of Time because that's the first fandom of my heart but technically I wrote a crack Harry Potter fic before I wrote for Wheel of Time. But in my heart it was Wheel of Time. That was certainly my first fandom in any meaningful sense of the word.

20. Favorite fic you’ve ever written? This question is my nemesis. My favorite fic I've ever written changes at least once a month. I have a series for this on AO3 that I'm going to link to as a lazy answer to this question even though that's sort of 50 of my favorite fics, so sue me, I've written a lot of things over the years and I actually do like a fair number of them, even if you have to make me say so.

tagging uhhhh @highladyluck, @curiosity-killed, @ameliarating, @gloriousmonsters, i'm not sure how many people i'm supposed to tag for this but if you want to do it, go ahead?

#lise memes #confessions of a frustrated writer

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voolfman · 4 months

Text

Flowers for You

SCTIR fic published on ao3 by voolfman

The first time the stranger was left a message on his new phone with his new number (his carrier sucked), he assumed it was from someone whose number he had forgotten to add.

“Yoohyun-ah, it-i- it's your hyung. You forgot your scarf at home. It's getting cold out, and I saw you walking around without one. Ju-just come home and get it? Please? I'm not mad anymore, I promise. Hyung….hyung is just so, so worried. I love you.”

He should have deleted the message. He should've texted the guy and let him know that his younger brother changed phone numbers. But he was busy; he got the message right at the end of his lunch break and his boss was such a hard-ass about being on time that he forgot. Until, he received another voice-mail a few days later.

“I guess you're not coming back for your scarf? That's alright, it's not a good scarf anyway. Second-hand, you probably want…wanted a nicer scarf. Maybe…maybe you would have stayed if hyung had bought you nicer scarves…I guess there's nothing I can offer you now. Even so, hyung misses you. Please come home.”

Then the texts began to start. And he read them. And listened to the voice-mails. He didn't delete any of them. It felt too cruel to erase the words that reeked of despair and loneliness. As if making them cease to exist would somehow erase the last vestiges of the lonely man. As if the man would cease to exist, never to make up with his younger brother.

“Your guild won't even let me in. I just wanted to drop off some of your favorite snacks… I'm sorry hyung couldn't afford better, but hyung’s budget’s been tight this month. I promise I'll save up better for next time! Happy birthday, Yoohyun-ah.” What a coincidence that Han Yoohyun’s birthday was the same day. And his older brother had decided to cause a scene in front of the Hayeon building that day.

It took an embarrassing amount of time to realize it, but eventually, he had to admit, he was receiving messages for THE Han Yooyhun, leader of Hayeon Guild, from THE Han Yoojin, his estranged and publicly renounced older brother. Which, having listened to the older man's heart broken messages and birthday well-wishes, made a lot of what the gossip-rags and mass media busybodies spread sound grossly out of proportion or just outright inaccurate.

One time, partly out of pity, probably out of morbid curiosity, he actually did answer the phone. It was back before he had known who was calling, back when he'd just had the man under the name “The Sad Hyung.”

All it took was the simple tap of an obnoxiously green circle with an outdated symbol of a phone most children wouldn't even recognize anymore from a screen that was too bright for the hour it was calling at.

There was an answering tone. Then silence. Then the whisper of a hushed and choked back sob.

“...Yooyhun-ah?” It was a desperate wish. A whisper of despair. It was the single drop of rain soaking into the ground of a scorched and barren forest.

But he couldn't reply to the voice over the phone, or the gig would be up. The hyung would know that his younger brother had cut off all contact with him. And then what? Who would the hyung talk to? What would he do to himself? He seemed so alone. At least this way his messages would be left on read. His voice-mails would be listened to.

He stayed silent on the other side of the line.

The voice was breaking. The signal was still strong. “Please Yooyhun-ah, what did hyung do wrong? I hate this. I miss you-” another choked back sob crackled through, “Please, can we meet just one last time so you can tell hyung what's going on? I-I’ll make your favorite eggs! Sunny-side up- just…just like you alw-”

The stranger hung up abruptly. He felt sick, his insides twisted like those balloons they gave to children at fairs and theme parks. A voice-mail was left on his phone a few minutes later. He never listened to that one. It was the only one he would never listen to. He thought he was going to throw up.

There were no new texts or voice-mails left for a few weeks afterward.

And that was his routine for the next few years. It wasn't every day he was sent texts and left messages. There were breaks of days, weeks, and as time passed, months.

It was after years that the texts and voice-mails finally stopped. At first he was concerned. It was a couple of months later, when he saw two brothers happily smiling at each other from the colorful pixels of a live broadcast on a billboard on his way home from work, that he was finally able to delete the texts and voice-mails.

Somewhere, in another timeline, the stranger listened for eight long years. As the messages became more bitter. More tinged with anger. Messages and voice-mails splashed with a deadly amount of alcohol and paranoia. Left with broken hearts and pain riddled gasps of leftover affection parsed through poison filled words and cries.

At one point, he learned that the older brother of Hayeon Guild had been sent to the hospital for alcohol poisoning and then sent to rehab. It was all over the news for a while. And then he was released and media mongers were all in a tizzy until they sniffed out something juicier. That was when the texts and the voice-mails started back up again. And that was when he knew. That was when he knew who's phone number he'd been given.

And eventually the messages became far and few between. And then eventually they were erased. And the stranger was erased. And the whole make-up of the world was erased. And the world was reset. And the messages were erased.

Han Yoohyun was not erased.

#SCTIR #sctir #s class #s classes that i raised #han yoojin #han yoohyun #strangers pov #voolfman #ao3 #sctir fic

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givehimthemedicine · 1 year

Text

Big Analysis Part 2

Powers and Blood

[ Part 1 ]

I have a theory to tell you about Henry that's going to make a LOT of other things click. this post is less neatly segmented by topic and more of a swift erratic drop into insanity so buckle up. Long asf but I promise at least the first/main part is worth it.

warning: very high chance this post contains actual spoilers for major reveals in Stranger Things 5. I'll be tagging subsequent discussion of my main theory here with #st spoilers just in case.

after I establish that, I'll speculate about a variety of subtopics including:

Max waking up

[redacted] has powers

Why Henry wanted El to join him

How Will did the lights

What Will's spidey sense is

Henry's original interest in Will

What I think happened that night in 1959

Let's start with this 4x8 Brenner line: "when One kills, he doesn't simply kill. He consumes. He takes everything from his victims. Everything they are and everything they ever will be. Their memories, their abilities."

Brenner literally just saw crime scene photos of Henry's victims like the rest of us. where is he getting that intel? why would he know that?

"are you forgetting that Brenner saw surveillance of Henry killing all the kids so he knows how his killings worked?"

well sure, Brenner had plenty of footage of it, but what visible indication is there about Henry's murder method that he's "taking abilities" from anyone, unless maybe you could see somehow on the tapes that each murder got easier? his nose didn't even appear to bleed a little bit until the very end.

at the time of the massacre, Henry's only two victims that Brenner would already have the full explanation about were Virginia and Alice, because Brenner spent a while with Henry in the lab and probably forced him to tell all about it. So, taking their memories, alright sure, but what do you mean ABILITIES? did Henry suddenly like, get really good at knitting the moment he killed his mom?

Virginia definitely had powers.

the only way Brenner could be so sure Henry gained all the dead numbers' powers was if he already knew that Henry gained powers from Virginia and Alice in the first place.

Virginia having powers is how she "somehow knew" it was Henry giving them visions. she's where Henry inherited his abilities from in the first place.

just like El got hers from her mom. the powers really are maternally inherited.

MKUltra didn't give Terry Ives powers, it just activated the potential she already had. you can have latent powers and not even know.

anyway, Victor Creel must not have known about his wife's powers any more than he knew about Henry's, which is why he stayed blaming demons.

so Henry kills Virginia, and as he wipes his nose, his narration literally says that he grew more powerful. Henry killed Virginia not only to evade her plans to institutionalize him, but he absorbed her powers.

then Alice. little Alice is too young to have many atrocities under her belt - her only crime is being Virginia Creel's child. I don't know if Henry has much personal resentment toward her, but either way, she inherited those powers just the same as him, and he killed her for them.

It's why he "grows stronger and more powerful" with each kill - it's not just that the mere act of killing any old victim makes his powers stronger - it's that his whole thing is absorbing people. when he kills people who have powers, he adds their powers to his.

eventually Henry does the lab massacre, killing all the guards and orderlies and kids. his backstory would so strongly seem to lead him to be sympathetic to the lab kids, to kill their captors and free them - but to Henry they were just sixteen little power vessels.

moving right along: remember how we all went "oHH" when we found out baby El learned how to do the neck-snap and throwing-guards-into-walls moves from Henry? yeah, that certainly was how he killed those guys!

hey, wouldn't it be fun if we think about how exactly he killed everybody we've seen him kill?

Henry's Murder List

if we try on this idea about Virginia and Alice... would you say it helps a little bit of a pattern emerge?

everyone Henry kills Like That has powers.

everyone.

All of the cursed four have powers. Max has powers.

It's what he means when he calls Max weak in the same breath as calling her brave. he's talking about her powers.

and apparently Billy had powers as well. not through Susan but his own mother, coincidentally. "all the rest of them" we assumed meant Chrissy Fred and Patrick but actually means ALL the rest. all the kids, Virginia, Alice.

oh, is old givehimthemedicine just a reaching delusional Max fan who wants her to have powers? he's just talking about emotional weakness? because she's depressed and Henry "feeds on the weak"?

look in what context the words weakness and strength keep getting used in the lab. it's not emotional or physical. it's about powers.

hmm ok so you're able to write off the lights going blinky because that's a common occurrence for you? at the place where you and your mother live?

I know another kid who used to have electrical problems at his house. it'd be funny if you and he had any other paralle-

MAX MAYFIELD I KNOW WHAT YOU ARE :) :) :)

I don't think we know anything about Patrick or Fred's mothers, but here's a hint about the Cunningham family. Chrissy's mom also feels Henry but attributes it to a demon, like Victor Creel.

gates do indeed open by Henry making a "powerful psychic connection" but Dustin doesn't realize how accurate his wording is - the victims have powers too. Chrissy's major visions both feature her mother screaming at her to "open the door."

doors are what Henry calls gates. he's connecting his powers with Chrissy's to open a gate.

all this time I took this line to mean that El has the specific skill of opening gates, like how Kali has her own unique skill. actually it probably just means Henry wanted El's strength. like, her amount of power.

which brings me to El.

why Henry's favoritism towards Eleven when she was the weakest kid at the lab? was it just because she was the most empathetic of the kids, and he knew she'd offer to help remove the soteria if he was nice to her?

Henry wanted El at full strength because he had plans for her powers. and if any of those other lab kids were weak he would've coached them too, fattening them up for the kill (Hopper/demogorgon/last supper parallel).

so if Henry went to the trouble of coaching El to bring out her strength instead of just killing her when she was weak, that establishes that he gains more strength from killing actively, strongly powered people, and probably only very little from killing latent or weak people like Alice, Chrissy, etc. maybe barely even enough to be worth the hassle of killing them.

right?

no, see. that's why he Vecnas them.

VECNA-ING ISN'T JUST KILLING, IT'S ACTIVATING THEIR POWERS AND THEN MAKING THEM USE THEM REALLY REALLY REALLY HARD. SO HARD THEY DIE. SO HE CAN TAKE THEM.

he's giving the '86 victims traumatic visions and nightmares about the things that he knows causes them the most pain - to make them experience extreme negative emotion, to activate their powers. just like he did by coaching Eleven to harness sad/angry memories. they get nosebleeds, the classic power-use symptom, because of their powers being stirred.

and when he kills them, he's literally power-surging them. think of the way El bleeds worse and feels more drained the harder she uses her powers - except he doesn't stop when they pass out. he forces all the power he can possibly get out of them, past their breaking point, until their bodies literally shatter. this creates a gate, and he also absorbs their maximum powers when they die. maybe like all the powers they would ever have been able to generate, total ("everything they are and everything they ever will be"), all at once.

THAT'S WHAT THE GLOWING LIGHT BULBS THING IS, BOTH SYMBOLICALLY AND LITERALLY. A MASSIVE AMOUNT OF ENERGY BEING CREATED.

that's why the flashlight-shattering surge when Henry kills Patrick. Henry isn't just "making a powerful psychic connection" with random teens - so what? what would that do? - he's making a connection and forcing them to generate extreme levels of power.

that's what causes the huge electricity surge when El closes the gate - she's using her rage montage to generate huge amounts of power, the most we've ever seen her do - AND USING HER POWERS REALLY REALLY HARD MADE HER NOT JUST BLEED WORSE THAN USUAL BUT LEVITATE.

what if Henry didn't levitate Max Chrissy Fred or Patrick. what if their own powers did that?

so Henry probably got even more power out of each '86 victim than El demonstrated when closing the mothergate (because El didn't die).

now realize: Max got power-surged... but Henry got interrupted before he could complete the ritual. she died, yeah, but of a heart attack from the trauma, not as part of the ritual itself.

I don't think Henry had actually taken Max's powers yet.

which means....

I SEE A PATH CLEAR TO MAX HAVING ACTIVE POWERS IN SEASON 5.

and if Max wakes up with amnesia and her powers lost, which is entirely likely given the pattern - don't worry about it. Max has her own NINA: all those letters she wrote. if needbe, El now knows exactly how to train Max back into power, except this time by harnessing love instead of darkness.

now, back to the light bulb thing - when else do we see it?

in the shed when Will gets taken.

Will has powers too. but you knew that :)

Will's made the light bulb in the shed glow with intense emotion too - fear. the bulb didn't burst because he didn't die.

and if the powers are maternally inherited, Joyce has them too. and Jonathan.

this could be Joyce lightbulbing, but I don't think she's experiencing a psychic connection with Henry at this moment, so it might actually be Will again, afraid for Joyce.

while we're on the subject:

Who led Holly and Joyce to Will's room with the lights?

in both the Joyce and Holly scenes, the lights blink their way calmly down the hallway. the way they behave just feels like a gentle, friendly presence - just like they do as a result of Hopper and Joyce walking down the hallway in the UD. it feels human.

but I'm not so sure it's Will. even if we say he was just walking to his room the first time and accidentally led Joyce to danger, he probably would be careful not to do exactly the same thing to Holly.

maybe the calm-blinking is not a result of a friendly or human entity, but of a human with powers.

maybe that was Henry walking down the hallway. Henry blinking the lights, Henry playing the stereo.

Joyce goes back into the house after running away, because that song is a personal thing for Will. but that kind of stereo is battery operated and can't play unless the play button is pressed, which requires the presser to either have telekinesis or physically step in for a sec through a portal. if Will could come through a portal the show would be over, and I don't think his powers are strong enough to push a button telekinetically yet even if he wanted to. but most importantly, he wouldn't want to. the demogorgon was definitely right there, and I refuse to believe Will would lure Joyce back into the same dangerous situation she had just fled. being that Henry can read memories, he would be perfectly aware of the personal significance of Should I Stay Or Should I Go and wouldn't hesitate to use it to deceive Joyce. so why didn't she get got when she went back in there? idk, maybe Will created a diversion or something.

I'm also sure it was Henry mesmerizing Holly with that circle of lights, extremely similar to the light-circle game at the Lab he probably got really good at before Brenner put in the soteria. Will can't do this:

regardless, Holly was lured in there specifically, and the demogorgon almost yoinked her.

so Joyce and Holly were both targeted in season 1, and both when they were alone.

Will was alone, Barb was alone, there were apparently no witnesses to the other four yoinkings, so they were alone. the demogorgon doesn't usually like to appear in front of anybody except those it intends to take.

and can I remind you that every time the demogorgon came into the house to attack Jonathan, it didn't injure him at all. it just knocked him down and drooled on him a bit. it wasn't trying to kill. and can I remind you that Nancy was also there.

the Byers and Wheeler families both have powers.

dream or telepathy...

cruel coincidence or ESP....

if both Byers and Wheelers have powers, why wouldn't the demogorgon burst in while the casserole is cooking and yoink Joyce, Karen, and Holly all together? because then the show leaves us the deniability of "oh well it was after Joyce; Karen and Holly just happened to be there". same as "oh well it was after Jonathan, Nancy just happened to be there". showing us an isolated attempt on Holly makes it clear that Wheeler blood is a target.

Henry keeps targeting entire families except for the fathers.

because he's killing everyone with powers, and he knows the powers are maternally inherited.

Virginia and Alice but not Victor.

all the numbers and not Papa (he's not their father literally but he doesn't have powers and it works as a parallel).

Will, Joyce and Jonathan but not Lonnie. that's why Lonnie coming back was even a plot point - to show him being available for a demogorgon attack yet being the only Byers never to have an encounter with it, and not even believe in it.

Nancy's vision of something terrible happening to Karen, Holly, and Mike, but no mention of Ted.

How did Will do the lights?

Will didn't glow the shed bulb or his bedroom bulb on purpose.

his first intentional show of powers (that we saw):

the imagery of Will's flicker is exactly the same of baby El using her weak powers to flicker a single bulb in the light circle:

"but wait, why are you calling the lightbulb flicker evidence of Will having powers? we see non-powered people affecting light bulbs by touching them in the Upside Down, like the chandelier scene in 4x7."

correct, but. look at the Nancy Steve Robin Eddie contacting the kids through the chandelier lights scene. it glows in the RU when they all touch it, right? so they ALL have powers too? no.

any lights glow when any regular people touch them in the UD. touch them.

but only people with powers can make lights glow without actually touching them. Will can't be touching that light bulb in his bedroom for Joyce because it isn't even there in the UD. he can only be touching the empty glowy space where it is, like Nancy touching the lite brite.

btw notice how all four teens touch that chandelier but NOBODY EXCEPT NANCY ever touches the unplugged lite brite? sus. assuming the other three don't have powers, I suspect it might not have worked for them.

Hopper and Joyce walking down the hall - they didn't touch those Christmas lights. those weren't even there yet in the UD. that's not just human proximity turning them on - that's Joyce specifically.

Will could only have done most of the lights stuff by having powers. some of those Christmas lights blinked too quickly for him to have touched each bulb physically, besides the fact that he was a little guy, not tall enough to reach them. he didn't have to actually touch them, and again he couldn't have anyway because they weren't there yet on Nov 6. he's not strong, but he's activated enough to use his powers consciously now that he's been lightbulb-glowingly scared at least a couple times.

but that's only half the Will-lights question. that still doesn't tell us how he knew they were there in the first place.

Will in the UD has to be seeing glowy areas where the lights are, like how the teens saw the lights when they aimed flashlights at them.

failing Will having a flashlight with him the whole time (boring! spin again), I have three ideas:

theory one: Will's "true sight" enables him to see glimpses of the RU from the UD as well as vice versa and he did in fact see the alphabet without the aid of a light source.

theory two: Joyce has candles lit in the first blinky Christmas lights scene, and again near the alphabet. I wonder if firelight could somehow transcend dimensions.

theory three, which I like best: is it possible that the lights thing works both ways - that Joyce's presence in the RU made the Christmas light spots glow enough in the UD that Will noticed them?

the lite brite scene, as I understand it, doesn't conflict with this idea. it didn't glow in the UD because Dustin, Lucas and Erica were on the other end of it, and I have no specific suspicions that any of them have powers. if any one of them had powers, the lite brite might have glowed in the UD even without the flashlight beam. and then only Nancy touched it in the UD and made it glow in the RU. if I'm right about who has powers and who doesn't, that checks out.

what about the 1x8 scene where Joyce and Jonathan sense each other in the house? if this theory is correct, Jonathan (if not also Nancy) should be causing glowy spots along the ceiling in the UD. but the UD shots are all framed low, maybe intentionally avoiding giving us a good look toward the ceiling, and we would need a good look because these glowy spots would probably be quite subtle. so while this scene does nothing to confirm, I don't think it denies either.

Will would not have seen the alphabet painted on the wall, but if he noticed 26 glowing spots while hearing his mom say things like "talk to me!" he could maybe figure out what was going on, and maybe filled in his own alphabet.

the only hiccup is these two light bulbs I circled. because these would put 28 glowing spots on the wall and how would Will know that Joyce started with "I" on the next line instead of the top right bulb, and then the rest of the alphabet would be thrown off, doubly so at "Q". although if Will is able to make individual bulbs glow selectively just by his intent, maybe Joyce is too, and only the alphabet ones are glowing in the UD.

not perfect, but that's my best try for now, because it would also explain the bedroom light bulb.

What about the rest of the yoinked and flayed?

In season 1, a total of six people got yoinked to the UD by the demogorgon. Will, Barb, and four other randos. did they all have powers too?

well, Barb's nose was bleeding:

(Mrs. Holland I'm onto you too)

and if 2/6 had powers then there's certainly a case for the rest, but that's not a hill I care to die on. like, the elevator guy could've been a convenience yoink, just because he was right there where the demogorgon entered the lab. we know even less about the other victims. I could go either way about it.

as for the flayed, the only family relationship we know about is the Holloways, and since the dad was flayed too that doesn't perfectly follow the not-the-dad pattern (although flayings =/= Vecna'ings and I guess there's no rule preventing Tom Holloway from having his own powers from his own mother).

I'm definitely thinking Billy had powers based on that one Henry line to Max, but I don't think I have an objection to the idea of most of the flayed just being meat. although the flaying process (the tentacle in the mouth) could definitely be a means of both uploading possession and downloading powers. if that's the case, like 1/3 of Hawkins has powers I guess.

so was Nancy's theory about blood attracting the demogorgon right?

Nancy and Jonathan attracted the demogorgon by cutting their hands. Barb bled in the pool. Will wasn't bleeding, but he didn't need to be because I think Henry already knew about him some other way.

that deer was bleeding, Nancy said it had been hit by a car. was that to throw us off, to make us think the demogorgon is just attracted to blood in general? although who's to say it isn't. but it was eating the deer. it didn't yoink Will or Barb (who I think both had powers) to eat.

maybe the demogorgon could smell blood like other predators, but it could also tell regular blood from powers blood, and Henry didn't allow it to eat anyone with powers because he had more important uses for them.

so then if it's literally sniffing out who has powers as it goes along, how did it know about the Wheelers? it tries to yoink Holly episodes before Nancy cuts her hand. I would love to offer you a different explanation than that Karen was there too, and... I can think of a reason an adult woman could be bleeding. do I like it, no, is it possible, I guess.

so what is Henry's original interest in Will?

what if I'm not totally off base about rainbowshipgate? what if the lab, as of 1979, is already watching Will. as a member of staff, Henry could have access to their intel on potential new kids. that way at the time El banishes him to the UD, he already knows about Will. so when he finally gets back into the RU, he makes a beeline for Will.

is it possible that, when he first goes after Will, all Henry wants with Will is his powers like all the rest?

if so, why doesn't he just Vecna him? there has to be a reason he didn't want him dead quite yet. maybe these days Henry is working in partnership with the hive, and while Henry's goal was to harvest Will's powers, the hive also had the goal of spawning some new demogorgons, which requires live host bodies. the yoinked were all handled in ways that served both of those goals.

was Will even meant to survive?

This is gross but, let's talk about that vine in Will's mouth

I FINALLY just got the purpose of this weird ass shot of the alive/dead raccoon in the tunnels. I have never understood what this was supposed to be. It must be dead - it's partly skeletonized - and yet it looks like it's breathing. I never even saw this until I brightened it and slowed it down just now, but: when Hopper nudges it with his foot, vines burst out of the carcass, and the breathing stops.

I'm frankly still not even sure wtf I'm seeing here but it made me realize that the vine in Will's mouth is not just to deposit the slug, but to give him oxygen.

everyone else probably got this years ago but for the benefit of anyone else as slow as me, Hopper's Sara flashback is not merely a visual association, but a very literal one. although the slugging is ultimately a fatal process, Will is intubated and the vine is keeping him alive for the duration.

this is why the language around Will's slug is always "coughing up" and not vomiting. the vine and slug were never in his digestive tract, they were down his trachea. the vine has to be both an ovipositor and a breathing tube. I hate this subject. it seals off the airway, preventing the host from inhaling the UD's toxic spores, because if the host dies too soon it won't be any good for incubating the slug.

when the slug is ready, the vine must retract (so the slug can get out) and without supplemental oxygen, the host (if not already dead like the raccoon) immediately finishes dying of exposure. this must be what happened to Barb and the others. then the slug grows up and in a few days starts eating the host's body, which is why that other dead guy near Barb is a skeleton already.

I've been going crazy trying to figure out why, if Henry has some grand plans for Will right from the beginning, he would use him as a common demogorgon incubator, with no provision appearing to be made for his survival. (I guess Henry could've restarted his heart like El did Max afterwards, but eh). I haven't thought of an answer yet besides: maybe, at this point in time, he didn't?

maybe his original intent was to activate Will, take his powers, repurpose him for incubation, and leave him to die? and then after Will surprises him by making it back to the RU with semi-awakened abilities, Henry realizes he's become a unique asset? (this is a whole other avenue of thought I need to work out more)

so anyway, how could Henry have harvested Will's powers without killing him yet?

there's only one, one-off way we've ever seen Henry steal someone else's powers nonfatally, without Vecna'ing them, and that's El.

when the meat flayer bites El, a chunk of it burrows into her leg and absorbs a little of her blood. if the powers are genetic, they're in the blood, literally. El uses her powers for the last time to tear it out of her leg, and later, when the whole meat flayer arrives at the mall, it stops and bends down to that little chunk and absorbs it. in doing so, it absorbed her powers.

Henry getting her powers, sure fine, but where I'm still unclear is why this is a zero-sum thing and El lost her powers, because it's not like she lost all of her blood. (also does this mean that in the ST universe if you get a blood transfusion you might end up with superpowers?) there's something I'm still missing here, especially with that shot of the blood puddle sizzling on the floor of the grocery store.

anyway, we know Will used his powers in the UD in order to do the lights. and what happens when you use your powers? your nose bleeds. this is one way Henry could get a little of Will's blood without leaving a mark on him so the audience won't guess.

Will must also get amnesia from "dying", thus losing his active powers like baby El. or else it'd be hilarious if he's had powers and known all the answers all this time and hasn't mentioned it.

What is Will's spidey sense?

if Henry doesn't count on Will surviving his slugging, I don't see any motive for him putting soteria or equivalent into his neck before leaving him in the library.

as much as I like the soteria idea, I'm honestly not sure the simplest explanation doesn't cover it - that Will's spidey sense is just fear.

when Will's neck tingled when he was possessed, it was because the Mind Flayer (Henry) was afraid. they told us that very plainly with Mr. Clarke's dialogue.

when normal Will's neck tingles, it's because Will is triggered and rightfully terrified some UD shit is happening again. he describes it to others as feeling frozen with fear, cold, like dropping on a roller coaster. he also mentions feeling like he "can't breathe or talk or do anything" - sounds rather like symptoms of having a vine down your trachea, even if you don't know that's why.

but how does he know to be afraid?

I'm thinking that once Henry makes a connection with you, there's always a scar of that connection there, like how gates leave scars - the connection is basically opening a gate between minds. (remember Henry got Max and El from Max's mind into his by literally hurling/carrying them through that stained glass doorway. Victor breaks down that same door and stumbles into the war vision. doors being gates.)

provided there's a UD/RU gate open, Will can sense when Henry is near as a result of that residual connection, but intense fear may be enough to explain the actual reaction on his neck imo. he may not remember exactly what happened to him in the UD but frankly it'd be super weird if he didn't have colossal anxiety at the slightest hint it could be happening again.

Max is the only other person who's had Henry make a connection with her and lived, so if I'm on the right track, she should also wake up with a spidey sense.

Why Henry originally wanted El to join him

maybe opening gates is a 2 player game no matter how strong you are. if Henry killed every other powers person in the world, he wouldn't be able to open gates because he'd have no one to connect with. he had just coached El into becoming the most powerful kid in the lab, and that combined with their "alliance" put her in an ideal position to be his partner in crime.

maybe the thing about her being "superior" and shaping the world with him was just a lie to gain her cooperation? maybe, but the fact that he brought it up again in 4x9, years later and with nothing to gain, makes me feel like he kinda meant it.

this does very little to reassure me that Henry won't turn out to be El's biological father. he would've been 23-24 at the time Terry was involved with MKUltra, and having both parents involved with lab experimentation would align flawlessly with El's very Firestarter-esque origin story. if Brenner didn't actually orchestrate it, I certainly can't see him frowning on it either if he knew, as I'm sure he would be thrilled at the chance to study a double-powered kid (assuming he didn't already know it was only a maternal thing back then). although I suppose Henry and Terry could also have had a thing without Brenner knowing. I will be thrilled to be proven wrong about this entire paragraph.

Henry's "join me" to Fred and Max was more figurative I guess, in the sense that they'd be joining him in his mind once he absorbed them. I was gonna say maybe he figures one of these depressed bastards hates the world enough to be his player 2, but he didn't really give them a sales pitch or opportunity to agree/disagree before killing them. I do find it interesting he never said "join me" to Chrissy, and we don't know if he said anything to Patrick.

What happened that night in 1959.

the night Henry kills Virginia, the radio turns on to Dream A Little Dream Of Me, which is like Victor's Running Up That Hill, and serves to free him from his vision.

my question is: if Henry wanted to torment Victor, why would he turn on a song that would help him?

he didn't.

Virginia turned on the radio.

oh yeah, forgot to mention! Virginia's powers were active. not all of the weird stuff going on in the Creel House is Henry. in fact it's probably not Henry who started it. the lights flickering while Henry draws with crayons - pretty sure that's Virginia pulling a stunt somewhere in the house.

here are both POVs of the murder for you to refer to.

the radio turns on directly onto DALDOM (hm I don't love that acronym).

Virginia and Victor look at each other in a way that's easy to interpret as two people weirded out about the radio turning on by itself. but Virginia has a weird, almost pleading look. I believe she's just acting confused when she's really the one doing this.

Victor has no idea she has powers. he figures this is demon hijinks and that his wife is just as baffled about it as he is, and she's letting him think so.

just before Victor touches the radio, it starts tuning through different channels. and then the lights go crazy.

the knob starting to channel surf - I think that's Henry changing the channel away from DALDOM. how does Henry know about the RUTH effect? maybe Virginia knows - either from her own experience or Brenner told her - and Henry read her mind. anyway, Henry doesn't want that song playing.

but with the radio trick, Virginia tips her hand. if Henry wasn't already sure she had powers, he is now. (Henry's reaction to the radio is a major difference between the POVs - look at his for this part) he looks at the radio. he looks to his mother. and that is the moment he says that Virginia "left him no choice but to act."

what about this moment during a calm family dinner would necessitate Henry immediately killing his mother?

why would Virginia turn on the radio in front of Henry, knowingly blowing her secret?

it makes me feel like, within a few more seconds, it wouldn't matter to Virginia what Henry knew. it makes me think of the story Henry feeds baby El about how she needs to escape today because they're going to kill her. ingredients of that lie come from his own past.

what if Virginia planned to "kill him" that night - that is, fake his death so she could hand him over to Brenner in exchange for compensation (like she definitely killed that great uncle for his money I'm telling you). all she would have to do is incapacitate Henry and then call in Dr. Brenner under the guise of helping him, and Brenner takes care of the rest. He'd put on his usual fake death routine, perhaps even providing a fake body, same as with Will. (and ultimately this IS what happened because Henry pushed too hard - Victor is satisfied that Henry died)

all Virginia has to do is act scared, and blame for Henry's bizarre "death" would fall in easily with the claims of demonic activity that Victor has already so well established around town (the demon actually being Virginia, who's been doing spooky shit in front of Victor to make him think the house is haunted, establishing the cover well in advance of Henry's planned "death").

but Virginia doesn't know the extent of Henry's abilities. she knows he's been messing with their heads, but maybe she doesn't know about the telekinesis and electricity stuff - which is why she looks genuinely confused when the lights go blinky, because she knows she's not doing that. and then she turns back around with a brief look of oh shit before she zooms up to the ceiling.

congratulations Virginia, you played yourself.

but again, why did she turn on DALDOM? if the plan was for Virginia to do something to Henry, what did Victor need protection for? or was that her special song, too? Their Song <3?

Virginia probably figured that the second Henry realized something was going on, he would put everybody in a trance to stop them. maybe she figured if the protective song was already playing, whatever Henry tried wouldn't work. but she didn't know Henry could change the channel. whoops!

Dream A Little Dream Of Me

here's the part I've been over and over and can't figure out a good explanation for. Henry changes the channel on the radio to stop DALDOM. so then how does hearing that song playing save Victor from his war vision a minute later?

after Henry changes the channel, even while the dial is still moving around, the song persists quietly in the background throughout Virginia's death and Victor's attempts to break down the door. it stops when he enters his war vision, but a minute into that, he takes notice of it again, which is what pulls him back. yet as soon as he comes out of his vision, back into reality where the song SHOULD still be audible if it was really playing, the house is silent.

there is definitely some kind of third party bullshit going on here but I'm stumped.

I don't think I can blame Alice. her powers weren't active - she had to be given nightmares to stir them, same as the cursed four, and I don't even think a little kid is probably in on a family murder plot to begin with. and like, I kinda doubt she Vecna'd herself.

is Virginia not really dead? she looked pretty dead, unless that whole evening was one huge trance Virginia gave the entire family. but Henry's narration so clearly says he intended to kill Virginia and Alice and frame his father, and that he gained powers from killing his mother specifically, so I really kinda don't think it's that. even if Virginia could give him a vision of himself killing her and Alice, I don't think she has the power to also make him believe he planned all that and was pleased with the results. otherwise his recounting should have been more like "I don't know what came over me, but I killed my family and when I realized what I had done I passed out from shock!"

assuming there isn't an extra player lurking around the scene who we don't know about, I'm going to take one stab at it that's absolutely loony.

Victor has to be hearing that song from somewhere other than the radio. and we're hearing it all dreamy and quiet, not like it sounded when it was really on the radio. what if this is perception or time travel shenanigans? what if, somehow, our gang is on the scene - in Victor's mind, or in the Upside Down or some such unseen way - and THEY are playing DALDOM for him, to make sure the timeline unfolds right. because I'm pretty sure I do not hear DALDOM in Henry's version of the scene any time after he changes the channel. that's only something that's going on in Victor's perception.

idk. that's pretty wack and I hope we aren't going full time travel, but I got nothin else right now.

I am suspicious of that scene of Henry turning back the clock though, because we really never saw what results that yielded, if it was supposed to be anything but symbolic. but again Henry has no reason to want to play DALDOM via some time alteration shenanigans when he's the one who didn't want it playing in the first place. maybe if El/Max/Will/Mike/Nancy messes with that particular clock it could affect the timeline..?? I have no idea.

Why aren't all the victims' jaws broken?

@bugsbenefit here comes the part for you

I've seen a couple people question why Alice Creel is the only victim whose jaw isn't broken. she isn't, not when you consider the full list of victims. the majority of the dead lab kids are positioned in such a way that we don't see their faces, but the few whose faces we do see, their mouths are closed like Alice.

jaw breaking is pretty rare: only Virginia, Chrissy, Patrick and Fred.

Virginia is obviously an adult. Chrissy, Patrick and Fred could be 18. Two was the only lab kid who was likely 18 (if he was lab-born immediately after the program started in 1959, he could be up to 19) but the shot of his death is blocked so that his head falls out of view. (if you go frame by frame you can see that his jaw isn't broken, although the shot in question is of a stunt double, so I don't think we're supposed to take real notice).

Max is only 15 and her jaw is spared. it's an age thing.

but this may be less "Henry has a rule about not breaking kids' jaws" and more "the network has a rule about how gruesome you can get with minor actors" although I mean, is the jaw thing really worse than the eyeball thing, idk.

Tristan Spohn (Two), Grace Van Dien (Chrissy) and Logan Riley Bruner (Fred) were 18+ during filming. Myles Truitt (Patrick) is only a couple months older than Sadie Sink and it's possible that he was just barely 18 while filming his scenes while Sadie was still 17 during hers. I think that's probably the more likely explanation tbh.

if anyone can think of an in-universe reason for this, please jump in!

Some misc final thoughts

now it makes sense why Henry makes killing El's friends a distinct step from killing everyone. he means her friends who have powers. he wants to harvest their powers, but El is too strong a protection over them, and he can't get at them until she's out of the way.

still totally possible it's just artistic license, but every instance I can think of of lights selectively working in the Upside Down could be explained by the proximity of one of the people I think has powers. then again, the range really seems to vary, and I can't think of any UD scenes we've ever seen where nobody with powers was present.

there's sooo much imagery of power-people and opening doors (gates). this isn't even all of them, I just got tired of screenshotting.

could Steve have powers too?

he gets an "open the door" of his very own, and the demogorgon appearing in front of him says maybe so. I could go either way on the Russian elevator scene in which they're all talking about opening the elevator door, and both Steve and Dustin press the DOOR OPEN button and nothing happens. I'm not sure about Steve but I am squinting at him suspiciously.

jancy, byler, and elmax nations, congrats on shipping literal power couples. technically milkvans too but 🦴

I am curious why Mike has never really been singled out for monster attack like his sisters have.

Mike-gets-Vecna'd truthers... if the gang can break his trance at the right moment, that would be a very efficient way to activate not just Mike himself, but Will too, because he already has a residual psychic connection open and the sight of Mike getting Vecna'd would surely trigger such strong terror in him.

me @ mike: honey you got a big storm comin.

this concludes part 2 and now I'm off to let my mind reel with the everybody-has-powers fic possibilities

#givehimthemedicine analysis #henry creel #virginia creel #will byers #max mayfield #st theory #mine #givehimthemedicine big analysis #st5 spoilers #how the upside down works #st spoilers #analysis

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