#that the college never finds! what if we never know what's through there!

[imfinereallyy]

I wonder if you look both ways (When you cross my mind) pt. 3

a nice long update for ya ♡ part 1 part 2

cw: internalized homophobia and projecting internalized homophobia (from an oc)

🐝･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･✦ʚɞ

June 1996, Chicago

Steve's first steps into his living room are not met with silence and sunshine; in fact, he is met with two surprises.

The first being Eddie Munson still in his apartment.

Steve rubs the tired out of his eyes, squishing his palm into his lids in hopes of shaking out a morning delusion. He is proven unsuccessful..

His second surprise is that Eddie is awake, staring at Steve in high alert, blankets folded neatly (he must have scrounged around for them in the night, not that Steve minds), sitting patiently as if he has been waiting for hours for Steve's arrival.

If the second surprise hadn't happened, Steve might have excused the first. See, Eddie, in all the years he had known him, had been anything but an early riser, usually choosing to sleep the day away. So if he had been asleep still, Steve might have let him being in his apartment slide.

Steve ponders how he doesn't really know Eddie anymore, so he shouldn't actually be surprised.

Eddie clears his throat, "So, how about that talk?"

Steve has to resist shutting his eyes to relish in the sound of Eddie's deep timbre. His voice has grown scratchy over the years—from singing or cigarettes, Steve can't be sure. It feels like coming home, either way, to have his voice brush over him.

Instead, Steve clears his throat back. "Don't have time; maybe try again in another five years." He moves to the kitchen to start making their morning drinks—hot coffee with cream for Robin and an iced dirty chai for Steve.

When Dustin had been working at a cafe back when he was in college, he made Steve try all of their new drinks. Surprisingly his favorite became a dirty chai—something which Robin finds hilarious.

Steve grabs the chipped green mug from the cabinet and begins pouring Robin's coffee. It had already been hot and ready in the pot, which probably meant Eddie had prepped it for him. Steve doesn't comment.

Eddie huffs through his nose, "C'mon Stevi—Steve. It's ten in the morning on a Saturday. You can't tell me you're busy right now."

Steve has to resist slamming Robin's mug down on the counter, already having being put together after the 1994 incident, he doesn't want to face her wrath.

Gently placing it on the counter, Steve turns. "Actually, I have somewhere to be at twelve, not that you need to know that. And don't act like you know what's going on in my life, Munson."

Eddie smiles, a little laugh escapes him. God, it is like a fucking drug after years of being sober that laugh. Steve wants to beg him for another hit, even though he knows it's bad for him.

With the smile never leaving his face, Eddie raises his hands. "Okay, okay. You're right."

"Why are you smiling? This isn't funny." Steve huffs.

Eddie's face softens, "Sorry, just even though you're mad at me. You're talking to me, and shit, sweetheart. I would take that over silence any day. It's nice to hear your voice."

Steve has to force himself to keep his shoulders tense, wanting to sag into Eddie. He's still mad at him, furious even. But some part of him agrees deep down, this is nice.

He can never let Eddie know that.

"Fuck off, Munson. I have shit to do. I'm sure you're too busy anyway."

Eddie shakes his head, hair falling in front of his face. "No, trust me I have nothing else going on. The band is on hiatus. And even if we weren't, trust me when I say this is exactly where I am supposed to be right now."

Steve can't help the snort that comes out of him, "Funny you're asking me to trust you, asshole. That went out the door with your bags five years ago."

Eddie flinches back, "Okay, I deserve that one."

Steve doesn't mention to Eddie how he knows his band has been on hiatus for over a year now. How he's kept up on the band, even after Eddie left. How he is curious why they went on hiatus at all, they have two successful albums, and supposedly were working on their third, when suddenly they all decided it was time for a break.

Peak of their career, and they chose silence. Normally, a horrible career move, but it seems it makes the rock community want them even more.

Steve can understand that partially. When it comes to Eddie, you can't help but want more, even when he disappears without a trace.

"I got to go get ready. Seriously, Munson. I know you think I don't mean it when I say leave. I think you're stuck on the Steve from five years ago, and how the Steve from then wouldn't really mean it. But this is the Steve now. And Steve from now means it when he says, get the fuck out. Go find someone else who could actually use your presence, like Dustin. God knows the kid deserves a phone call."

Eddie opens his mouth to protest, but doesn't get to chance to say his peace, Steve's already on his way back to his bedroom with their drinks in hand.

🐝･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･✦ʚɞ

Steve is running late.

It's not his fault, he has a fucking ghost haunting his living room, and it takes him ten times longer to work around it. Robin tells him to cancel his lunch, but Steve doesn't, even though she's right.

Robin's always right.

Steve can't help but feel a little smug when thinking back to leaving his apartment, though. He looks good, wearing his nicest Levi's and soft white button-up. Steve had made sure to keep the top few buttons undone, showing off his gold necklaces that landed perfectly on his exposed chest hair.

For Drew, of course, not for Eddie.

Still, Steve knows he looks good. So when he leaves his apartment and Eddie doesn't even bother to try to talk to him again because he is just too busy staring at Steve.

Steve makes it to the restaurant only five minutes late. It would have been on time if it had been in his athletic prime.

Resturant, Steve realizes, is a bit of a stretch. It appears to be a cafe--but not one of those cozy ones with crazy colors and a fun name. No, this cafe is incredibly fancy. Everything is so sleek and high up, the name in an Italian word he'll have to asked Robin to translate later.

Steve looks around the cafe in a huff, realizing Drew is nowhere to be found. He is momentarily flooded with relief, knowing he has beaten Drew to the cafe.

Steve finds a table in a corner and waits. His brief relief is quickly swept away into annoyance as he sits there for minutes with no signs of Drew.

It takes another thirty minutes, before Drew is finally at the cafe.

"Sorry, I'm late, baby." He says breath even. Steve knows he was in no rush to be here on time. He doesn't move to kiss Steve, not on the cheek and certainly not on the mouth. Drew isn't one for PDA, or so he says. Instead, he smooths down his dark blue Armani suit and sits across from Steve.

"You know, you could give me a kiss. I haven't seen you in a week." Steve decides to move past his being late; there is no point in arguing. If it had been him, Steve is sure he would never hear the end of it.

"Sweetheart..." Drew whispers and brushes his hand against Steve's knee. Steve's lip twitches; he doesn't like it when Drew calls him that. "You know it isn't safe to do that."

Steve wants to throw Drew's hand off of him, but he doesn't. It's always like this between them, Steve wants more, and Drew pulls back. It's beginning to feel tiresome, this game between them. They have been dating for a year and have made no progress in public. Steve's lucky Robin gets to know, seeing as basically no one else in either of their lives knows about each other. For Steve, everyone knows of Drew but not his name. For Drew, Steve is almost sure no one even knows he's gay.

Steve wants to hit himself for the thought. It's unfair of him to put these expectations on Drew, everyone comes out at their own pace. He would be a hypocrite if he pushed him; it had taken him nineteen years to figure out he was bisexual. Took Eddie leaving for him to come out to anyone other than Robin.

It feels different somehow with Drew, though. Like this isn't him scared to come out, but more like Drew doesn't actually see a future with Steve. It had taken them six months to even label themselves as boyfriends, moving from late-night booty calls to watching a movie together in Steve's living room in the middle of a Tuesday.

Steve rubs his temples instead of smacking Drew's hand away. Steve feels tired of this cycle. He knows this is the best he's going to get when it comes to dating. With women, they often want him to admit that he was experimenting, wanting to shun parts of himself away. That or they are convinced he's gay. Well, he is, but it's more than that, and they don't seem to get it.

With men, it's the opposite problem. Either they need him to admit being bisexual is just something he used to make himself feel better, or they are only looking for a quick hookup.

Hookups are nice, but approaching thirty, Steve wants something real and is perhaps sick of finding out the man he brings home from the bar is married.

He knows this is the best he's going to get.

"Maybe if we met a cafe in my neighborhood, we could be a bit more affectionate. The one down the block has a rainbow flag and everything."

Drew scrunches his nose, "Why do that when we can get nice coffee like this?"

Steve doesn't point out that neither Drew nor himself has ordered coffee. Steve can't afford the coffee here, and Drew was late. "I think that's your way of saying where I live isn't nice."

Drew grabs his hand under the table, "No, babe, I don't want to fight today. I've missed you."

Steve feels bad; he has missed Drew. Despite their ups and downs (and Robin's grumbles), Steve does care for him. "You're right, I'm sorry."

"Don't worry about it. Besides, I did want to have lunch for a reason." Drew smiles brightly. Steve can't help but stare for a minute. It's no surprise what hooked Steve the first moment they met at the club. He is a classic kind of handsome. Wavy brown hair cut to look proper, a shiny white smile, piercing blue eyes. Nothing about him is soft, he is full of sharpness that takes you from across the room.

He's the kind of guy Steve's parents would have loved if they were okay with Drew being a guy—if Steve was even talking to them at all.

"Oh yes, you've got me on the edge of my seat." Steve jokes.

Drew gives him a charming smile, "There's my funny guy."

Steve rolls his eyes.

"So I have a big question for you..."

Steve freezes up; oh no. Here it comes. The talk, the let's move into together speech. One he'll have to turn down. No one ever gets it. How he can't live without Robin. Literally and physically.

"....so Greg says there's an opening and I think you'd be a great fit."

Steve shakes himself out of his thoughts, "What?"

Drew levels him with a look. "A job? For you?"

Oh. "I already have a job."

It's Drew's turn to roll his eyes, "C'mon, Steve. A high school guidance counselor? You could do so much more."

"I like my job, Drew. We've been through this. Besides, you barely want to be seen together, and now you want to work together? I have no interest in working at a law firm."

Drew pinches his nose, "Just...just think about it, okay? I want to see more of you in any way I can."

Steve doesn't want to fight. The fight left him a long time ago. "Okay."

He doesn't mean it.

🐝･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･✦ʚɞ

aaah im loving where this is going, also I swear it gets better soon and this has a happy ending!! also thanks for the love and support. This will probably be the last part where I will take tag requests for the series so please ask now, cause its getting too long. But parts will always be updated on the previous posts and my page!!

tag list!:

@stevesbipanic @withacapitalp @emryyyyy09 @brainfugk @blueberrylemontea-fanfic

@slv-333 @thetinymm @connected-dots-st-reblogger @helpimstuckposting @dreamercec

@goodolefashionedloverboi @stripey82 @little2nerdy @anne-bennett-cosplayer @resident-gay-bitch

@ghostquer @sourw0lfs @devondespresso @yesdangerpls

@lingermirth

@adealwithher @antonymeanonyme @stevah-hawcett @samsoble @mugloversonly

@stripey82 @anaibis @mycatsstolemybiscuit @flustratedcas @alfhitchblonde

@s0ft-strawberries @slavicviking @theheadlessphilosopher

@l1lpip @emmabubbles @arepaconchocolate

@thesuninyaface @hallo-spaceb0y @dykelips @bookbinderbitch @valinwonderland

#guys really i swear there is a happy ending #ive gone full blown story now #yal hyped me up its your fault #also im so excited for the next part hehehe #steddie #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #my writing #platonic stobin #ficlet #angst #hurt comfort #i wonder if you look both ways (When you cross my mind) #ao3

[daydreaming-nerd]

Young Love and Old Money (Cassian x Female! Reader) Part 11

Young Love and Old Money Masterlist

AN: Once again sorry this took a while! I'm about to graduate college (which I'm not happy about) and I've been packing and moving stuff home. Also guess who finished Iron Flame? ME! (Yes I know that i'm so late to the game. Graduation remember) but hey y'all drop your Xaden Riorson requests ;)

Summary: She was the most beautiful woman in Prythian, sister to the High Lord of Night, and now she is the soon-to-be wife of Eris Vanserra. Despite her many titles and her aura of unattainability, Cassian can't help but fall deeply in love with the princess of the Night Court. But will it be enough to stop her impending wedding to a man who is sure to destroy her from the inside out?

Warnings: mentions of injuries and infertility, smut, violence.

Word Count: 7,238

The next 24 hours I was bedridden, not by my wishes, but my Madja’s and well, Cassian’s. For most of those hours I was asleep, in Cassian’s arms of course. Getting him to do anything but hold me was a miracle. Not that I was complaining, but when it came to matters of him needing to eat and such I was very adamant that he do so. 

Neither of us spoke much, both of us just wanting the peace of each other's company. When I would wake up I would tilt my head up from Cassian’s chest to see if he was awake or asleep. According to him I was a sleep magnet. 

He would ask me if I was cold or hungry, but mostly he asked how I was feeling, which thankfully was better. My body still aches from the bruises left on me. But since the bloodbane was now out of my system the scars from both of my stab wounds were healing nicely. 

I was lying on Cassian’s chest, enjoying his heartbeat when a timid knock sounded on the door. I lifted my aching body to turn and find my brother poking his head through the door, just like he used to when he would ask me if I wanted to sneak out for a midnight flight to the candy shop. 

“How are you feeling?” he asked, shutting the door behind him softly, like the sound would be too much for me to stand. 

“Much better, still sore and a little tired from the blood loss but at least I’m not near freezing now,” I smiled at him, Cassian rubbed my shoulder as if I needed that small ounce of warmth the friction provided. 

“That’s good,” Rhys said, putting his hands behind his back. “If you’re feeling up to it, I’d like to talk to you.”  

“Yes I just woke up so I’m feeling rested,” I say moving to sit up on the bed, my joints protesting. 

Cassian’s hands found their place under my arms to help lift me into position and then fluffed all my pillows so I would sit comfortably. When the Illyrian made no effort to get out of bed and leave the room, Rhys cleared his throat, getting his attention. 

“Yes?” Cassian cocked an eyebrow, clearly oblivious to what Rhys wanted. 

“Can I have a word with my sister alone?” Rhys asked. 

Cassian just rolled his eyes dramatically and moved to get out of bed. Before he left, he leaned over me and placed a kiss on my lips, one I greedily took as there was once a time I thought I would never taste him again. It wasn’t until my mate sauntered out and closed the door that Rhys spoke again. 

“That’s going to take some getting used to,” he laughed sitting at the side of my bed. 

“What is?” I ask, shifting in my seat to get more comfortable. 

“My little sister making out with my best friend,” he explained, nodding towards the door. 

“We did not make out,” I scoff, slapping him in the arm. 

“Any kind of kissing I see from the two of you might as well be fucking,” he laughed again, shying away from my hand. “Now enough of that, I wanted to apologize.” 

“Apologize? For what?” I furrow my brows, wondering what my saint of a brother could possibly have to apologize for. 

“For being a bad brother, for not being there for you after we escaped, for even suggesting you marry Eris,” he sighed, casting his head down like he couldn’t stand to look at me. “After we got back from under the mountain I started thinking about how I did everything wrong. How if father was still High Lord that never would’ve happened. That’s why I went looking through his things, and that’s how I found the contract. I thought that if I was more like him, I could keep us all safe. I could keep us from having to endure Hybern’s wrath like we did Amarantha’s. I spent too much time thinking about my own mate and my own trauma that I didn’t even stop to consider yours, and I’m so sorry.” 

“Rhys,” I breathe, feeling my heart break as I reach for his hand. “You aren’t a bad brother, you’re far from it. You’re the best big brother I could’ve ever asked for. I never gave you the option to be there for me after we got back, and I never made an effort to be there for you. We both messed up,” 

“Why didn’t you tell me about Eris? You know I would’ve stopped the whole thing right then and there if I knew he had hurt you like that.” He asks, gripping my hand tighter, his brows furrowing as he searches my weary face for an answer. 

“Because you sacrificed so much for me, Rhys. You sold yourself into slavery to keep me from the exact same fate. It’s a debt I never thought I’d be given the opportunity to repay.” I take a deep breath, letting the weight of my own words hit me. “You saved me, I owed you Rhys. I would’ve done anything to help you. I’m sorry that it didn’t work out, that we won’t have those armies anymore.” 

Rhys’ violet eyes glisten with tears as he takes in every word I say. There’s an overwhelming  guilt that fills the room. One that ebbs and flows from both of us. For the first time in 49 years I felt like I was truly seeing my brother again for the first time and what a lovely sight it was. 

“Don’t you dare apologize y/n,” Rhys says, scooting closer to me. “If you were still his wife and living in the Autumn Court, I would have burned the whole place down, given what I know now. Gods I nearly lost my mind when Azriel showed up here with you, and when Madja said you may never wake up? It was worse grief than when mother and father died. Because it would’ve been my fault. You would’ve died before I ever got the chance to make things right again and I don’t think I could’ve lived with myself.”  

“But we don’t have to worry about that anymore,”  I cry, holding both of his hands. “I’m here now.” 

“And you’re not going anywhere,” he assures me. “I can’t be High Lord of this court without my little sister.” 

My words get caught in my throat at his words and I decide to hell with them. I throw my arms around his neck for the first time in a long time. He plucks me from the bed, pulling me closer, like I might slip out of his grasp and be lost forever. Both of us blubber like babies, but I can’t help but smile as I’m engulfed in the scent of sea salt and citrus again. I had missed him so much. 

I hear the snapping of leather wings and then suddenly the light around me goes dark. I open my eyes to see Rhys' wings wrapping around me, cocooning me, just like he used to do when we were little kids. I can’t help but laugh and wipe away a tear as I take them in. 

“We haven’t done this since-” 

“Since father yelled at you for trying to sneak out to go on a date with the blacksmith's son,” Rhys said finishing my sentence. 

“That’s right!” I gasp remembering the young man with shaggy brown hair. “What was his name again?” 

“Arne, and he nearly soiled himself when father and I showed up to his doorstep and told him to stay away from you.” he chuckled. 

“I didn’t know you went too!” I gawk, eyes going wide. 

“Well of course I did, he didn’t deserve your affections,” Rhys smirked.

“All this time I blamed father but you were in on it! I hate you!” I laugh, slapping his chest. “He was handsome.” 

“Don’t let Cassian know that,”  Rhys teased and I couldn’t help but laugh at the image of Arne standing next to Cassian. Soil himself he certainly would in the presence of The Lord of Bloodshed. 

“I promise you I’m fine. Madja said it would be good for me to start walking around more!” I protest at Cassian’s vice grip trying to keep me in bed. 

It had been two days since the conversion with my brother, one that had gone into the late hours of the night as we reminisced about the old days. The only reason the conversation ended was because Cassian barged in claiming he was tired and refused to sleep anywhere but with his mate. Rhys happily obliged him and promised he would eat lunch with me the following day, which he did. 

Now I was feeling much better, as my stab wounds were scarred but healed. My body still ached from the bruises all over me, both left there from Eris' hands when he took me by force, and from being dragged through the palace. But I was in desperate need of a bath, and a change of clothes. So I wasn’t taking Cassian’s pleas that I stay in bed another day.   

“Fine but let me help you at least,” he grumbles rounding the bed so he can take my  hands and help me stand. My legs shake under the weight of my own body but hold strong. The long sleeve shirt of Cassian’s covering my wobbling knees.  

“See I’m fine,” I laugh taking slow steps to the bathroom where the house has already prepared me a steaming hot bath. The smell of Jasmine bath salts wafts through the air further solidifying that I’m home, in Velaris, and everything is okay. 

I lift Cassian’s shirt over my head, discarding it on the floor and for the first time since I’ve been home I finally get a good look at myself. Except I’m not sure the person looking back at me in the mirror is me. Angry hand shaped bruises mar my hips and my forearms from where Eris gripped me. The hand print around my neck finally started to fade but it was still there. My knees and elbows were bruised from being dragged over stone floors and the scar on my side had finally healed to a faint pink. 

“Gods what did he do to you?” Cassian breathed from the doorway, breaking me out of my trance. I turn to meet his worried gaze as his eyes look up and down my body at the evidence of what Eris did. 

“You don’t want to know Cass,” I say, turning back to see myself in the mirror again. Cassian��s frame comes to stand beside me as he places a kiss on my bare shoulder. 

“If you ever need to talk about it I’ll be here. You don’t have to hide it from me just because you don’t think I want to hear.” he says, staring at me through the mirror. 

I turn in his arms to run a hand down his chest, “Can I ask you a favor? One you can absolutely say no to and I won’t be upset?” I ask him timidly. 

“You could ask me for the moon on a string and I would fly up there and get it for you my love. Anything you want and it’s yours,” he smiles, brushing his knuckles against my face. 

“Will you teach me how to fight?  I’ve been thinking about what happened with Eris, and how helpless I felt. How I knew that all I could do was lie down and take it. I don’t have powers like Rhys, or even wings like you and Azriel to take me away.  I don’t ever want to feel that way again, I never want to feel helpless.” I admit staring at his bare chest, unable to meet his gaze.

His hand finds my chin and lifts it to meet his eyes, in them, so much love. Pain for what I’ve gone through, but pride for how I’ve chosen to handle it. I could feel every emotion down the bond that I thanked the mother for every day. 

“You will never have to feel helpless again y/n. I’ll kill anyone who dares to harm you and I won’t feel a lick of remorse for doing so. But I would be honored to train you,” he smiles, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “You’re going to bring me to my knees in Illyrian fighting leathers,” he laughs. 

I giggle at his comment and smack him on the chest, before waltzing over to the bathtub and getting in. The warm water washing over me practically has me falling apart as I let out an appreciative hum. I close my eyes and lean my head against the edge of the tub already feeling the invisible dirt and grime being lifted off of my skin. It’s like being reborn. 

When I don’t feel another body I open one eye to see Cassian standing next to me arranging towels and clothes for when I get done. I can’t help but smile at the overbearing mother hen he’s been the last couple of days. If I told anyone that The Lord of Bloodshed was fluffing towels and laying out outfits I’m sure none would believe me. 

“Are you going to get in general?” I ask, nodding to the space before me. The bathtub isn’t as big as his, but it’ll do.

“If you’re asking me to get in and just sit with you, yes. But if you’re hoping for anything more the answer is no. You’re not fully healed yet and I don’t want to hurt you,” he says firmly, setting the towels down. 

“But Cass I’m fine-” 

“No you’re not, the wound on your stomach is still healing,” he states and I know he’s right. 

“Fine, get in you Illyrian baby,” I say moving my legs to make room for him. 

He rolls his eyes at my comment but drops his pants. The moment he does I instantly curse myself  for allowing my eyes to ogle him. Then I curse him and his stupid temporary sex ban. It had been well before the wedding since he and I had been intimate that way and I wanted so badly to touch him. To solidify the fact that he was purely mine.  Even as he looked disorientated as hell trying to find a way for his wings to fit in the smaller tub, he was handsome.    

“Here,” I laugh, moving over to sit in his lap so that he can extend his legs and move more. “There now we both fit.” 

“As soon as you're well I’m flying you back to The House of Wind and we’re taking a proper bath,” he laughs, pressing a kiss to my nose. 

“I’ll hold you to that general,” I smile leaning in to kiss him. 

Just like the first time we bathed together he takes the time to gently wash all of me. The way his large hands massage my scalp as he washes my hair has my eyes fluttering shut, as do his soft touches as he washed my body.  The smell of my jasmine and amber soap filling my nose and making me feel like myself again. His hand lingers over the nail shaped scar across my stomach and his eyes zero in there. As if there’s something on the tip of his tongue. 

“There’s something I need to tell you, something that I’ve been avoiding.” he says, not taking his eyes off the scar. “I wanted to wait until you were completely healed but I think you should know now.”

Anxiety starts to build inside of me. I thought that after the wedding he had stopped keeping secrets. Whatever this was, it was big. Big enough for his eyes to start glazing over as they stayed riveted  on my stomach. 

“What is it?” I say quietly when he doesn’t speak up. 

“Madja was able to heal most of you but there were things even her magic couldn’t fix. She says that the wound to your womb was severe, that it hit an area she couldn’t heal. Because of it, you may never be able to have children,” he says solemnly, finally taking his eyes off my scar to look at me. His eyes were full of worry, as tears welled up in them. 

My world stopped as I took in what he said. I knew the reason Eris wounded me was to ensure I wouldn't have his child, but it had never occurred to me that it would prevent me from having any children. Prevent me from having Cassian’s children. 

A wave of grief washes over me for what could’ve been, and then it’s followed by guilt. Cassian had already sacrificed so much for me, for us, for this court. And now I couldn’t give him the one thing the fae prayed and begged the Mother for, a child. I had been a terrible mate all these months. Not knowing about the bond, marrying another male, letting that male put his hands on me. All things I could never atone for. 

What god did Cassian offend to end up cursed with me as his mate?

“There’s still time,” I breathed, eyes cast down to where he held my hands just above the water. 

“Time for what my love?” the general’s eyebrows furrowed at my anomalous response. 

“For you to reject the bond. We haven’t truly accepted it yet and I understand if this isn’t what you want anymore. I know how badly you wanted children and if I can’t-” 

“No,” he answered resolutely, pulling me closer to him pressing his forehead against mine. “This changes nothing. I don’t need children to be happy,  I just need you.”

“Then maybe you can seek out a surrogate and then-” I ramble but he cuts me off again.

“Don’t even finish that sentence. I would rather die than lie with another woman,” he said with a strong tone. “A life with you…That is what I want more than anything. More than children, more than armies.  I have loved you for so long and now you are mine, and I am yours. Anything else is inconsequential.” 

He pauses and leans over the edge of the bathtub grabbing his pants. I can’t help but furrow my brows as he fishes around in one of his pockets until he pulls out something small that I can’t see and holds it tightly in his hand. 

“I made up my mind from the moment you asked me to kiss you all those weeks ago that you would be mine until the end of all days. If you recall, I even told you so.” he starts.

“Now I’m never letting you go”

The words replay in my head as he opens his hand revealing a brass ring. The thing looked so small in his large hand. It was beaten and weathered. No doubt having seen years of life and love. 

“This was my mothers,” he states, holding up the ring. “It’s the only thing I have left of hers, given to me by someone in her village who managed to save it. As you know I’m a bastard, so it’s not a wedding ring. But I remember her wearing it  all the time.” his lips tug up in a small smile as if remembering his mother. 

There is a sadness in his eyes as he stares down at the little ring. But as I see the wheels in his head churning, recalling his mothers face, his eyes lighten and he continues. 

“I always knew that I would give it to my mate, if the cauldron ever blessed me with one. I never once thought I would be mated to the princess. It feels stupid asking you to marry me with this, but I didn’t carry this thing around all these years for nothing.” he chuckles looking into my eyes. “Y/n I love you. I always have. I don’t just want you as my best friend or my partner or even just as my mate. I want you as my wife. I know this ring isn’t befitting of a princess or The Jewel of Prythian, but will you marry me?”  

I can’t help but let out a small laugh and press a kiss to his cheek, “Of course I will Cass, how could you ever think I would say no?”

“I just had to ask,” he chuckles into my lips. 

I look down to see him sliding the circlet of brass around my left ring finger and to my surprise it fits like a glove. As if it was destined to sit there for the rest of its days. 

“We can get you another one, something more befitting of a princess.” he smiles, pressing a kiss to the band. 

“No, I don't want another one. I want this one.” I assure him laying my front down on his chest. 

“Whatever makes you happy  my love,” he hums, running a hand through my wet hair. 

We lay in the newly engaged bliss for a long time. Until the bathwater runs cold and our fingers and toes wrinkle. But it isn’t long enough, we could’ve spent hours more in that bath and it still wouldn’t be enough. No amount of time ever would be. 

The next day I woke up to Cassian’s side of the bed cold. No doubt he had finally started training again, something I’m sure Azriel had been pestering him about. Ever since I had gotten back he hadn’t left my side once, and that included training. I joked with him that he was going to lose his rippling abs but he always laughed it off and said I was more important. I wasn’t upset that he had gone to training, if anything it made me feel lighter. It made me feel like things were going back to normal. 

I was sitting in the library reading when he finally waltzed in, covered in sweat with his hair tied at the nape of his neck. The sight had me wondering when his little sex ban would end.

“How was training?” I ask setting down the book I was reading and stand to greet him. 

“Az kicked my ass, apparently a couple days out officially puts me out of practice,” he smiles, bending down to kiss me.

“You’re stinky,” I laughed, twisting my face at him. 

“You like it and you know it,” he teases, grabbing me by the waist to plant another kiss on my lips. 

I cursed at the feral part of me that liked seeing him sweaty and dirty, “Yeah, yeah, yeah so maybe I like it,” I smiled, pulling him down by the nape of the neck for another kiss. 

His hands pulled my waist so I was closer to him and my arms naturally looped around his neck. I was consumed by the feeling of him. His strong arms around me, his lips all over mine, his scent at its purest form. It was enough to drive me absolutely mad. I pulled him in closer with a groan as I parted my mouth for him.

“Ah ah ah,” he tutted, breaking the kiss. “You’re not healed yet.”

“Ugh Cass!” I bemoan throwing my head back in a mini tantrum. 

“You’re still a little sore, I can see it when you walk,” he laughs, kissing my temple. “Just a few more days my love.” 

“If you don’t want me anymore you can just say it,” I tease, turning my head to the side so that I’m staring at the wall. 

His hand finds my chin and turns it so I’m facing him again. I make sure to don my most irritated face, one that makes his lips turn up in a smirk. I wish I could kiss it right off his face.

“Oh believe me baby I want you plenty,” he smirks. “In a perfect world I would fuck you over the arm of that couch until the only word that you know how to say is my name.” 

My breath hitches and my toes curl at the image of him taking me that way. I knew he meant every word. Words I would hold him to once I was finished. I wanted him in every way  possible. The kitchen floor, the bathroom counter, the dining room table. Anywhere he would take me. 

As if he can scent my arousal he leans in to place a sweet kiss upon my lips. But when I close my eyes I fall into dead air. I open my eyes to see him staring off into the distance,  a concerned look on his face. 

“What? What is it?” I ask knowing that something is going wrong. 

“Eris is here,” he says assuredly and I realize that my brother had been contacting him via daemati. 

Cassian drops his hands from my waist and walks towards the doorway, picking up the swords he discarded against the wall. A male with a clear goal in sight.

“Wait, I want to come too!” I shout at him, following him down the hall.

He stops in his tracks turning to meet my gaze, “Absolutely not, I don’t want him anywhere near you.” he fusses strapping his swords and daggers in tightly. 

“Cass please I’m not afraid of him. This obviously concerns me, I want to be there,” I plead with him. 

Cassian’s jaw twinges and he looks out the window to my right, as if he is contemplating what he wants to do. Things that might happen, things that could go wrong. I see his eyes dart around slightly as if he’s watching all possible outcomes.

“Fine,” he states, though I can tell it’s not truly what he wants. “But you have to know that if he even comes close to you I will fucking kill him y/n. I will slit his fucking throat right then and there. Can you live with that?” he asks me in earnest. 

“Yes,” I nod. 

In reality my answer is no. The last thing I need is for a war between Night and Autumn just because Cassian killed their heir. I hated the male just as much as Cassian did, maybe even more, but I wouldn’t allow this to happen, which might be the real reason I wanted to attend. 

The flight to the house in The Court of Nightmares was short. One Cassian had clearly flown a thousand times. Growing up I was never allowed to go there, my father claiming it was too dangerous for me. One night curiosity got the best of me and I asked Rhys to take me and he declined. It was at that moment I lost all desire to set foot in the city. 

As Cassian and I stepped foot into my family's house there I couldn’t help but shudder. No wonder I had never been allowed here. It was all wrong, nothing like Velaris. Suddenly all the stories other courts whispered about the Night Court added up. 

When we arrived at the throne room we entered through the back. Standing by Rhysand who was sitting atop the throne he had been born to inherit. Eris is standing before him just a few yards away.  Both of them clearly lost in a heated discussion.  

We stood aside Rhys, Cassian’s arm wrapping protectively around me as his other hand hovered over the hilt of his sword. Eris’ eyes flickered over to me, then to Cassain and then back to Rhys.

“You hold no claim over my sister, not after what you’ve done. You’re lucky I haven’t melted your mind where you stand,”  Rhysand’s voice boomed.

It was the first thing I heard when I walked in, and it made a chill run down my spine. I had never heard my brother this way. I knew Rhys often put on a front for other courts but I had  never seen it. As if he was too afraid to show it to me.

“She’s my fucking wife. You can’t keep my wife from me Rhysand; it goes against the laws of every court in Prythian.” Eris growls back. “Come on pet it’s time to return home.” he says, holding a hand out to me.  Had he forgotten the events that led me here in the first place?

I step closer into Cassain’s frame, my hand curling into one of the straps on his fighting leathers. As if he can sense my fear, his body tenses and he pulls me tighter to him.

“Take one more fucking step towards her Eris and I will spill your guts on this floor,” Cassian growls and even I’m scared of the tone he uses. Unlike the Autumn Court, Cassian has the upper hand here, and I’m deeply terrified he will use it.  While he may be The Lord of Bloodshed, Eris is the son of a High Lord.

“She is my wife, and I hold full authority over her,” Eris seethes, the fire in his eyes returning. 

“You hold no claim over me,” I said. “You never did. By the laws of your court our marriage is null and void. Now I belong to my mate, who loves me.” 

“You once told me you loved me,” Eris says smugly. 

My mind races back to our wedding night. I swore I would never let him hear the words pass my lips. But the pain, it was too much. He told me he would stop if I would just say those three little words, and in a moment of desperation I caved to his wishes. My body too worse for wear to take much more.

Cassian’s body twinges next to me clearly taken back by Eris’ words.

“That’s because you beat me into submission until I did. That’s not love. I gave Cassian my love freely, before he ever touched me. Before I knew he was my mate.” I say firmly, my gaze unyielding at the Autumn Court heir. 

Eris simply rolled his eyes, “To hell with the laws of my court, I had it written today that impure females can still wed noblemen. I want The Jewel and I shall have her,” he smirks looking me up and down. 

Before I can even retort, Rhysand speaks up, “and I had it written the moment she was found that in my court, mates can’t be separated without consent,” my brother says smoothly. “Sister, would you like to go with Eris?” he asked me.  

“No I would not,” I say firmly. “You wouldn’t benefit much from me anyways. The healers say I may never bear children now.” 

“What a shame, now you’re just spoiled fucking goods,” Eris lips twist in a self satisfied sneer. “At least one good thing came out of that nail to your womb. You won’t be making any bastard children.” 

Before I can even start to bring him down to earth Cassian is launching himself at Eris. A frenzy of swords, flame and raw power from Cassian’s siphons barrel around the room. I can’t help but gawk and run to my brother's side as Cassian unleashes his fury upon Eris. Most of Eris’ moves are on the defense, as Cassian never lets him have a moment to strike.

“Rhys stop this!” I say clutching my brother's arm. 

Rhys simply smirks, crossing an ankle over his knee clearly amused, “No I’m actually enjoying this,” he smirks leaning into the arm of the throne as the sounds of metal on metal ring through the room. 

I look up to see Cassian hovering over Eris, a sword held to his throat as Eris uses every ounce of power he has to keep the general from piercing his throat.

“Did I get under your skin, dog?” Eris taunts, trying to catch Cassian off guard enough that he can get the upper hand. “Did I tell you how she screamed as I took her?” he grins. 

Cassian falters just long enough for Eris to get out from underneath him. Eris’ hands are ablaze as he tries to burn through Cassain’s leathers, but the general has him on his back before he gets the chance. His hazel eyes ravenous as he lifts a sword to cleave Eris’ head. I realize that this is truly the Lord of Bloodshed standing before me, and now I know why he had been given the title.

“Rhys!” I cry out hoping he can end the carnage. 

“Fine, fine,” he assures me standing from his seat. “ENOUGH!” the High Lord bellows, his power pulling the fighting males apart. “My word is final. Eris, go home while I’ll still allow it.” Rhys finishes sitting back in his chair with a swagger I wish I could recreate for myself. 

Cassain comes running over to me, not a scratch on him as Eris limps out the doors behind him.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt?” I fuss surveying the burn marks in his leathers from Eris’ hands. Thankfully none of them burnt all the way through. 

“I’m fine baby,” he beams down at me, trying to mask the anger he feels for letting Eris walk out of here alive. 

“By the mother can the both of you get a room?” Rhys chastised, standing from the throne. 

“You’re going to have to get used to it brother,” Cassian laughs, wrapping his arms around me.

“Yeah, yeah,” Rhys dismisses us. “Go home, both of you, before I lose my lunch,” he jokes, stepping down from the dais, moving towards the door Cassian and I entered through. 

Cassian and I enter his room, this time at the House of Wind. Both of us had decided that Rhys needed to learn to take the new dynamic in doses. The Illyrian rid himself of his leathers, his body practically vibrating with anger, desire, sadness? I couldn’t quite tell.

“Cass, are you okay?” I ask laying a hand on his now bare shoulder. My voice is small and timid worrying what I might awaken in him. 

“Yes my love I’m fine,” he says, taking my hand and pressing a kiss to my open palm. “Just left over adrenaline inside of me, that’s all.”

My thoughts wander to the sight of him nearly taking Eris’ life. In the moment I was scared he would get hurt, but looking back now? I hated to admit how it made my heart race and my thighs clench. I had never needed him more than I did now. 

“I can think of a few ways to dispel that adrenaline,” I smirk, leaning in to kiss him but he stops me.

“No stop, I won’t hurt you y/n,” he groans, pushing me away. 

I felt something in me snap, something breaking. “Cassian please,” I beg and his eyes meet mine. “Please, I'm begging you to touch me. I am whole, I am well. I just want my mate. I can’t bear it any longer.” I plead with him, tears welling in my eyes.

He moves swiftly, his frame towering over me as he comusnes my mouth as if he’s consuming my soul. I feel the need in him sink into my very skin as he takes me in his arms. I nearly whimper at the way he kisses me so thoroughly. 

“If I hurt you, tell me right away. Okay?” he says between kisses, his hands roaming up and down my sides. 

I can only nod my head in agreement before his lips are on mine again. Every  touch of his hands on my body is so all consuming, yet never enough. The male could be melded to my skin and it still wouldn’t be enough. 

I feel my thighs hit the back of a rogue desk and suddenly I’m being hauled up until my bum sits on the cold surface. My hands wander up and down Cassian’s chest, committing every muscle to memory once more. His own hands wander around my back until I hear a deafening rip ricochet off the walls. My dress being torn in half and discarded on the floor. 

“Cassian,” I breathed as the cold air hit the bare skin of my breasts. 

I  was happy to see that his little sex ban had affected him as much as it did me. His hands and mouth were feral on me, no doubt from the adrenaline. His hand tugged my head back by my hair giving himself full access to my neck. The open mouthed kisses he left all over me drove me wild. But I didn’t stop the general on his mission to worship every part of me. 

His lips wandered over every ghost of a bruise Eris had left on me.

“You are loved, you are safe, you are mine,” he whispered before consuming my mouth once more.

My hands flew to the leathers of his pants, ripping them open seamlessly. His cock sprung free, hard and ready for me. But once again he stopped me.

“I mean it princess. You feel pain at any time and we’re done.” he says pressing his forehead to mine. 

“Shut up and fuck me general,” I grit bucking my core towards him. 

“Is that an order princess?” He teased, kissing my temple. 

“Yes it is,” I groan. “If you don’t I’ll throw you in the dungeons.” I tease running my hands down his chest. 

“Well then, as my princess commands.” He smirks, sinking himself into me. 

If he didn’t have me seated on his desk my knees would’ve buckled. The feeling of him inside me was so overwhelming, so amazing. I found myself crying out in pleasure from the fullness.

“Good girl,” he smiles before thrusting in once more. 

My eyes already see stars as he sets a steady pace. One not nearly as hard as he did at the ball, clearly not wanting to hurt me. Nonetheless, the pace he set felt amazing. 

“Oh Cass,” I moaned,  my nails raking across his back. 

“Did I tell you how I missed this?” he groaned, thrusting into me deeper. “How badly I missed being inside you?” 

His words had me going limp in his arms. My mouth leaving sweet kisses on his neck to encourage him to keep fucking me. I run my hands all over his body, wanting to feel all of him. This man, this glorious, brave and strong man was my mate. For the first time since realizing it, it had begun to truly sink in. This was our first time together now that both of us knew, and I could practically feel the bond between us screaming to be consummated. 

“Mine,” I breathed into his ear as he hit me particularly deep. “My mate.”

His hand came back to cup the base of my neck so that I was craning up to meet his stare. The fanning of his breath on my cheek as he fucked me languidly. 

“All yours baby, forever.” he smirked, leaning down to kiss me. 

Large hands cupped my bottom and I felt myself being carried towards the bed. He set me down in a way that made it so he never had to pull out of me, and I was thankful for the gesture. I didn’t want to be separated from him for a single moment. 

He resumed his relaxed place, one that had me feeling every inch of him. There would be time for fucking in the future, but for now I just wanted him to make love to me, and by the cauldron did he.

I felt my legs start to shake and tremble as he continuously hit the part of me that always had me falling apart. My hands threaded through his hair as I heard his moans and grunts in my ear, only making my stomach flutter even more. The damn inside of me getting ready to burst. 

“Cass I’m going to,” I shudder, raking my hands down his back, an action that spurs him on. 

“I’m close too y/n, just hold on for me,” he grunts fucking into me harder.

In my efforts to hold off on my release in order to wait for him I feel myself clench around his length, his hips stuttering as he tries to keep his pace.

“Oh shit baby you keep doing that I’m gonna-” 

“Cass please,” I cry, nearly arching my back so I can feel more of his skin on mine.

“Fuck, cum with me,” Cassian groans.

The ragged deepness of his voice has me seeing stars as my own release washes over me. He continues rutting into me as he buries his head in my neck, breathing in my scent. Both of us are panting as I run my hands through his hair some more, calming us both down. 

“My beautiful, smart, amazing, sexy mate,” he says, kissing my neck with each phrase.

He rolls over so he doesn’t crush me under his weight, and his arms pull me up to rest on his chest like always. The skin under my cheek is covered in a thin sheen of sweat as I hear his heartbeat beginning to calm down. I can’t stop myself from propping my chin up on his chest and placing sweet kisses all over him. From his abs to his chest, to his shoulders, and his neck.

“If this is us now how bad are we going to be after we accept the bond?” Cassian chuckles, pushing my hair out of my face so that he can see me. 

“I don’t know, but I don’t want to wait any longer to accept it,” I say, pressing a kiss to the center of his chest. “Not after today, with Eris. Who knows what kind of crazy strings he would pull to take me back and have me be his lap pet. If we’re officially mated Rhys’ laws will hold true.”

“Trust me, Eris would sooner have his head on a pike than have his hands on you again,” Cassian laughs lightly. 

“I’d rather not have it come to that. If you were on the other end of Beron’s wrath for killing his heir we couldn’t do this as often,” I smirk, placing a kiss on his neck. 

“You have me there princess,” Cassian laughs, pulling my bare body impossibly closer to his. 

“By the end of the week?” I ask boldly.

“What?” he says, caught off guard. 

“I want to be mated by the end of the week, I want to call you my husband,” I smile, bringing my left hand with the engagement ring up to cup his face. “Unless you think it’s too soon?” I ask worried I might be pushing him too far.

“Too soon? I’ve been wanting to make you my wife for over 50 years y/n. I’d marry you right now if you wanted me to,” he rambles and I can’t help but giggle. 

“While I love the sound of that I would like a dress, and maybe a ring for you as well.” I say brushing a hair out of his face. 

“I suppose I’ve waited this long,” he laughs, pulling me over so I’m lying directly on top of his chest. “By the end of the week it is.” he beams, sealing the promise with a kiss.

Hey I’ve been having some problems with tagging so lmk if you get this or if you saw it but didn’t get the notif!!

Taglist: @crystalferret202 , @nickishadow139 ,  @graceshifts , @writeroutoftime , @heyyitsnat21 ,  @stinkinstuffie , @lilah-asteria , @12358 , @fxckmiup , @daughterofthemoons-stuff , @mybestfriendmademe , @anxious-study , @bxm-1012 , @mal-adaptive-dreams ,  @sh4nn , @talesofadragon , @5onedirection5 , @saltedcoffeescotch , @flourelle 

Permanent Taglist: @fides25, @dissociated-always  

#cassian angst #cassian smut #cassian acotar #cassian #cassian x reader #cassian x reader smut #cassian x y/n #acosf #eris vanserra smut #eris vanserra x reader #eris vanserra #eris acotar #eris x reader #eris vandaddy #eris vanserra acotar #rhys acotar #rhysand acotar #rhysand x reader #rhysand #rhysand fluff #azriel x you #azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #rhysand angst #azriel #azriel acotar #azriel spymaster #acotar #a court of thorns and roses

[animentality]

not to be a boomer, but I do worry about the current generation of kids being raised with iPads.

first off. some of them literally can't hold a pencil because their parents never gave them physical toys to grip and play with, developing their fine motor skills.

you might ask why do we even need to learn how to write physically anymore- well, frankly, because if you're stranded on an island somewhere and you need to write HELP, you might not have the strength to hold a pencil, but you can at least hold a stick.

but on a more general note.

writing by hand helps you remember things better. it forces you to focus in a way that typing something word for word does not. a person can transcribe what a professor says without even thinking about it.

someone writing notes has to consider what to write and what to omit. it also activates more parts of your brain, forcing you to flex the parts of your brain related to learning and communicating, while also engaging the part of your brain dedicated to muscle control and precision.

but in general, I think the issue isn't even oh technology is bad and kids are getting dumber.

you can have PowerPoints AND take physical notes. that could help you learn even better than the olden days where you just had to remember everything that was thrown at you. or read very limited, out of date books.

the problem is that the generation that raised/is raising this generation of children just doesn't understand the true impact that all this technology will have on their kids. or they just don't care.

because our generation had the internet yes, but it wasn't widely accessible for most of us, sharing our computers with the entire family in the kitchen. it was also the internet in its infancy, where it wasn't quite so predatory, when it was lawless and disturbing, yes, but it wasn't weaponized by corporations trying to sell you things and steal your data, it wasn't flooded with bots and ai and all sorts of things that the human brain can't even distinguish as real or fake, especially when you're just a little kid.

that generation still played with physical toys. we celebrated when it snowed and we could stay home.

we also came from a gen that still, vaguely, cared about some form of community and had third spaces for kids to hang out.

90s children, who still had some memories of both playing outside on a playground and playing Mario Kart on the Nintendo 64 with their friends, who both went out to the mall and had a club penguin account.

we grew up with laptops and smart boards. maybe some of us had them in high school or college, but we still physically went to class and developed relationships. learned uncomfortable things about ourselves and others, the way humans do.

met new people and were exposed to new ideas, away from our parents. but not from some fucking influencer trying to sell us Sephora products.

we had to study for things, instead of just being able to Google shit for some bullshit online test.

which is also something that really concerns me. so many kids today can so easily Google answers for every test, and while tests don't ultimately matter in the real world, they still provide some basis for things that do matter.

like I'm just imagining medical students googling how to perform an appendectomy on the day of, and just using a YouTube tutorial to guide them through, and shuddering.

there are some things that the Internet can't teach you.

there always will be.

but I don't think my generation is really helping their kids find the balance that we were given naturally growing up.

the boomers and gen xers had fist fights and we had bullying someone online until they committed suicide.

and now kids use AI to spread fake nudes of girls.

but the laws haven't caught up with a lot of this stuff yet, and certainly won't while we have dinosaurs running our government. and culture takes even longer to change than laws.

I also worry because I know how badly covid affected kids worldwide. how they struggle to read and do math, because remote learning just isn't good for kids.

and I can't even blame them!! I literally teleworked for 4 years and even I can admit that I'm not nearly as good at focusing at home as I am in the office.

it's hard for kids with social anxiety and disabilities, yes I know, I know, trust me, I have social anxiety, and as a hybrid worker ATM, I highly doubt I'd be able to handle 5 days a week in the office.

but it's also not particularly good for kids to stay home ALL the time, entertaining themselves in their room and never being challenged, and never meeting people other than their parents.

the iPad is more of a symbol of that problem than the direct problem.

if your entire... world view is limited to what you can see on your iPad... I mean what a terrible world view you'll have.

you're a 10 year old using TikTok and all you ever see is the same opinion over and over until you can scarcely comprehend people who have an opposing opinion.

you see fake videos that seem so real. that must be real, and so comforting, aren't they, those videos that seem so real?

you let 30 year old influencers who are trying to grift people shape your world view.

and it's not even your fault.

your parents aren't doing anything to help you.

you're young and you're being barraged with entertainment and fake educational videos and how to guides that accidentally create mustard gas in your toilet.

your parents should be teaching you to find a balance between these things. they should be telling you what's real and caution you about the things you see.

they should limit your fucking time on the iPad actually. take you to a fucking park and let you roll in the mud or some shit.

and then when you're a teenager and a young adult, then you can start deciding for yourself what you believe.

but a lot of these weird millennial/gen z parents, man. just let your 1 year old scroll through vids on TikTok while you don't even talk to them or look at them once.

maybe it's because they don't see the harm in it, but I don't get it.

adults can watch TikTok all day and know, ahhh this is bad for me. I'm not doing anything I actually want to be doing.

adults can see other adults doing dumb shit and say ah you're sponsored. someone paid you money to say and do that. silly.

but kids are just kids.

they don't have discipline and frankly, that's not their responsibility. that is yours.

you should be teaching them that they can't have everything in life at their finger tips at all times, actually.

the iPad doesn't solve all of your problems, nor will it think critically for you.

so I worry about if humanity can really keep up with its own technology.

our species is still in its infancy, believe it or not.

so maybe these are just growing pains, and future generations will be able to look back on this era and know the proper balance.

but as someone living in 2024.

I wonder just how much pain is left before we really mature and either make it or break it.

[heyftinally]

April 30th is the Day of the Homeschooled Child

I was one of the 1.7 million children homeschooled in the USA.

I am also one of Homeschool's Invisible Children.

I was heavily restricted at home - I was barred from nearly everything that my peers were connecting with. I had incredibly limited access to movies and TV, even more restricted internet access, and was even barred from many of the same toys my peers played with. This on top of my academic isolation made socializing very hard.

I didn't relate to my peers socially.

Children younger than me were more academically advanced than me.

I was socially unaware, and frequently missed jokes or made faux pas comments because I didn't understand how to interact with peers.

My ADHD went untreated my entire childhood.

And the issues were not only social. Despite living in a state that boasted some of the most rigorous checks for homeschooled students, I was missed. My portfolios every year were falsified - much of what they claimed I had learned I had little to no understanding of.

By the time I graduated high school "with honors" (that I did not earn and were entirely false), this is a brief list of some of my academic failings:

I had never written an essay, and did not know how

I did not know how to do a critical analysis of a piece of text or media

I was incapable of math above a 4th/5th grade level

I could not tell time on an analog clock

I could not identify more than ~5 states on a map of the United States

I could not identify more than ~5 countries on a map of the world/globe

I could not spell above a ~6th grade level

I did not know that there was proof of life on earth prior to dinosaurs

I did not know that the lymphatic system was real

And so much more.

I entered college woefully unequipped for both the academic and socal demands that were placed on me. At 18, I was closer to as 14 year old, social/emotionally. Academically I was much worse.

I had to work three times as hard as my peers to achieve the same results, battled my still-undiagnosed ADHD as well as my academic and social neglect.

I didn't fully know who I even was as a person, due to spending so many years being expected to fit a specific ideal that was enforced upon me 24/7 through the isolation of homeschooling.

This April 30th, I'm wearing green for Homeschool's Invisible Children - for children like me.

If you are a child experiencing homeschool neglect, please know that you are not alone. There are resources available to you, and your future is not doomed just because your guardians failed to educate you. I'm listing some resources below that may be of help to you.

Homeschool alumni/survivors who resonate with this story: we deserved better. We deserved education. We deserved freedom. It's okay if you're angry at your past. It's okay if you're grieving the life you might have had without homeschooling. It's okay if you're conflicted. I hope you're able to find closure and healing in whatever form that means for you.

And, because I know it unfortunately needs to be said, if you're an ex-homeschooler or a homeschool parent who feels the need to jump on this post and defend yourself, I need you to step back, sit down, delete your comment, and sit with why you feel so attacked by our truth.

This is not a personal attack on you - this is abuse survivors speaking up to prevent further abuse. It is not your place to tell us we should be silent.

"But homeschoolers test better and are more successful!" I'm sure you're dying to say. To wave your statistics at me.

And you would be wrong. Because here's the problem with those statistics.

Let's pretend we have ten homeschooled children and ten public schooled children.

All ten of the public schooled children take a school assessment. Because some excel at different things than others, the public school students average out to an 85.

Only four of the homeschooled children take the assessment. Of the other six, one is traveling with their family during the assessment, two are not permitted because their parents know they aren't up to grade level and fear backlash or judgement, two are mentally or physically disabled and so their parents don't feel the test will adequately display their knowledge, and the last hasn't received any kind of education in years because their parents keep them at home either doing chores, working a job, caring for siblings, or they are simply neglected and spend all day hungry and scared.

Of the four homeschooled children that do take the assessment, they do quite well, as their parents knew/suspected they would. Their average score is a 98.

A 98 is better than an 85, yes. But just because 4 out of 6 homeschooled children were above the public school average does not mean homeschooling is automatically better. If you tested the top four public school students, they might very well score a 98 as well.

However, if you included those other six homeschooled students, the average homeschool score would very likely be something closer to a 45.

So when we talk about Homeschool's Invisible Children, we're talking about those six that never got the chance to take an assessment. Those six who never had a chance to tell a teacher "I'm ten and I don't know how to read". Those six who may not even realize how far behind their peers they are. Those six who deserved to have access to supports so that they could learn in ways that actually met their needs.

So while your statistics look good on paper, they are not honest. They do not present the full picture of homeschooling. Listen to the homeschool survivors who were one of those six kids who never got to make their voices heard. We have a voice now - don't try and take it from us.

Resources for current homeschool students and alumni:

Khan Academy - basically free online self paced K-12 classes. They have fantastic explanation videos for the lessons, you can review them whenever you want, and you don't have to stay in the same grade level for every subject - great if you're trying to catch up and you're in 6th grad for English but 2nd for math. They have courses besides just core classes (math/english/science/etc), too! They run on donations, but it's completely free to use. Also, this site is used in my local public school system to supplement the existing curriculum, so it's not just for homeschoolers!

Coalition for Responsible Home Education - actively fighting for more oversight and restrictions on homeschooling in the USA. They mostly do awareness and advocacy, but they also have resources on their site for things like what to do if you don't have a high school transcript. They run on donations, but the information is freely available.

Probably the most famous resource on this list. Videos that give you a "crash course" (aka a condensed overview) of a wide variety of topics. These are best used as supplement to more structured lessons like Khan Academy, but they have a lot of merit on their own if they're all you can manage. Knowing a bit about something is better than knowing nothing about it!

#homeschool survivor #homeschool abuse #homeschool alumni #homeschooling #homeschool #day of the homeschooled child #homeschool's invisible children #coalition for responsible home education #crhe #make homeschool safe

[nihilnovisubsole]

Because of your latest post: not sure if you’ve answered this before, but how does someone even entertain the idea of writing for the game dev industry? Did you start out on indie games or just write before and show them your work? Since it’s such a subjective field etc

if i have, it bears repeating! here's a rough timeline of what i did. never discount the value of luck and the kindness of friends

2016: i was doing a random freelance transcription job when i saw @theivorytowercrumbles post about writing for voltage. they reblogged the studio's open casting call for new writers. since it was so lenient - no experience, fanfic samples allowed - i applied. they hired me for their new project, but let me go after a trial period, citing that the tone of my writing was a bad fit for that game. i foundered for a while after that. i don't take rejection well. i started dangerous crowns to try to make money from writing some other way.

2017: one of voltage's producers reached out to me and said they'd started another project that i was a good fit for. she felt letting me go was a mistake and wanted to snap me back up. i said yes, i mean, are you kidding? so i started on reiner's route.

2018-2019: i kept at it. i took on diego's route. it occurred to me that i wasn't making very much money, but i liked my coworkers, and i was building my portfolio, so who cared? i also finished dangerous crowns, and a handful of people bought it, but certainly not enough to support myself or anything.

early 2020: between the pay and creative differences with voltage's team, it started to sink in that i needed to find other work. i applied to the few open game writer jobs i could find, but with only mobile romance in my portfolio, i got nowhere. i threw in dangerous crowns samples. i tried to network on twitter. i still never made it to the interview phase. i foundered for a while again.

late 2020: the voltage writers went on strike. i gave a statement to a journalist that one of obsidian's narrative designers noticed. we became acquaintances over it. another old friend of mine threw me a life raft in the form of a different contract, better paying, on a non-romance indie game. i took it gladly. i added a twine game to my portfolio, too. i kept applying. i got a few interviews, but something still didn't click.

2021: i finally accepted that i needed formal help. i did a portfolio workshop. i got resume coaching. the coach passed my name to a writer on the company of heroes team. they liked me! they also paid me more money than i'd ever seen in my life. at the same time, obsidian advertised a narrative job opening. i applied on a lark and let my ND pal know i was doing so. why not, right? college-new-vegas-fan me would want me to. they rejected me, but not before i passed their writing test and two interviews. i had nothing to lose at that point, so i told my ND pal that i was bummed. she gave me a golden piece of advice: "you came really close. try again."

2022: obsidian had another narrative opening. i threw myself at it. i was now going to annoy them into hiring me. since i was a known quantity from applying six months before, they had no qualms about interviewing me again. this time, it worked out, and i've been there ever since.

what's the common denominator here? i met people who thought i was all right and gave me a hand up when i needed it. the standard advice is to work with a community of your peers instead of trying to get your heroes to senpai-notice you. it's not that they don't care - they just have their own thing going on, and your peers could be the heroes of tomorrow if the right project comes along. i also found the portfolio was the end-all-be-all when it came to job hunting. i went through a grieving process with that! i'm not afraid to admit it. i wish studios had held my degree or dangerous crowns in higher regard, but i just had to make games in a wider variety of genres, and that was that.

one caveat: narrative is a really saturated field right now. a lot of people want to write, and there aren't many openings. it's not uncommon for big studios to get hundreds of applicants. larian probably got over a thousand for the job they posted recently. i feel awful saying that, because i don't want to discourage you, but i'd feel worse if i didn't let you know what you were getting into. if it's something you want, you should try! keep an open mind about the random projects you may find. you never know where they'll take you.

#asks #anon #workjob

[ehlnofay]

It’s not until she hears Sissel’s knees hit the floor that Efri is jolted back into her body.

She blinks, whipping her head around. Sissel is kneeling, bracing a palm on the ancient stone pavement, at the barrier – no, the barrier’s gone, it’s just Sissel on the floor. She lifts her head and meets Efri’s eyes; her hair is wispy and wild, the little plaits meant to keep it neat come loose and tumbling, her eyes wide. The barrier's gone, but still, her pale face is lit up blue.

“Are you okay?” she asks. She doesn’t speak loudly, but it echoes in the great stone chamber.

Nine, Efri doesn’t know.

She blinks again, looks down at her hands, clinging to the metal stick so fiercely that her joints ache. (Her own stick, her nice wooden one, is still on the floor somewhere, where it slipped out of her grasp when she hit the wall.) The lumpy heavy end of it, the clobbering end, is still resting on –

Not on. It’s in the thing’s head, fitted neatly in the opening of its dented helmet, the horns spiralling over the floor. There’s a tooth, perfectly preserved, by Efri’s foot.

One by one, she unwraps her gloved fingers from the handle of the metal stick, letting it drop to the floor with a clang so loud it makes her wince. Kazari is nosing at her side. (When did they let go of it? When did they get so close? She must have missed that. She feels out of the loop. Her heart is juddering like fish on a line, battering like some frightened trapped thing at her ribcage, and her breath is coming fast and heavy.) Absentmindedly bringing up a hand to press over her sore shoulder, she says, “’M fine. Not too – barely touched me.”

Kazari turns and spits on the floor. Efri blinks. She does it again, tongue lolling out of her mouth, face very disgruntled – and oh, Efri gets it. She does not glance down at the thing at her feet; she doesn’t need to, she knows what its arm looks like, chewed almost to pieces even through its banded armour. (If she hadn’t been so busy being scared of it, that sight might have made her a bit scared of Kazari. But not now, when they’re trying to hack and spit the taste of dead man arm out of their mouth.)

Efri unclips her canteen from her belt and holds it out. “Here,” she says. Her voice is rough. Her heart is racing too much to let constructing sentences be easy. “Not much, but –”

Kazari stands still while Efri tips half of the remaining water onto her tongue, and then Efri watches her swilling it around in her mouth, trying to bathe all of her teeth in it, before she spits it again on the floor at the dead thing’s feet.

The water is still clear. That’s something, at least; the dead man was too old to still have blood in him. Or maybe he was embalmed, drained of it hundreds of years ago, thousands.

“Are you okay?” Efri asks Kazari when they’re done, because they were the one doing most of the fighting, who was closest. They tip their head, shift their weight – wince when they put weight on one foot. Their lips peel back from their teeth. Their clothes on that side are singed.

Efri points it out. “Your robe,” she says, which makes it sound much fancier than it is. She’s too tired to think of a better word. She rubs a hand over her face, pushing the hair back over her forehead, says, “I’ll reinforce it for you when we get out.”

Kazari noses at Efri’s shoulder – the shredded fabric of her dress, the fraying edges stained with blood. Efri says, “I know. I’ll have to sew that up too.” Over her shoulder, she calls, “Kazari’s leg’s hurt, I think.”

“There’s blood on you,” Sissel replies. She peels her hand off the floor and leans back on her heels.

Efri touches her shoulder again. “’S fine,” she says. “Just a scrape. The blood’s drying already.”

It’s really sore, actually – the flesh abraded and tender, an ache sinking deep into the muscle – but it’s normal sore, the kind of sore you really should be after being thrown into a wall. It doesn’t feel sprained or dislocated or anything like that.  Just like it will be bruised a whole rainbow of colours come tomorrow.

Kazari noses at it again. She leans too far forward and falters on her maybe-hurt leg – rights herself, wincing, and rolls her shoulder. It gleams, just for a moment, and she nearly stumbles again. Efri puts out a hand to steady her. (It doesn’t really accomplish anything – Efri’s strong, but she’s not that strong – but it’s the principle of it.) “What was that spell?”

“Pain relief,” Sissel says from behind her. “I think. Doesn’t actually fix anything, but.”

“You’ll be okay ‘til we find someone?” Efri asks, and Kazari nods. She presses a hand against their shoulder and nods back.

They both turn to look at Sissel, then, who’s just kneeling on the floor, sitting on her heels.

“You all right?” Efri asks her.

“All right,” Sissel confirms. She doesn’t look at them. “Didn’t even come near me.”

She’s staring.

Efri crosses the floor to stand with her. (She needs to lean on Kazari – her legs are too wobbly, and she doesn’t want to touch the dead thing’s stick, doesn’t want to look for her own. Kazari limps a little on their sore front leg.) There’s a moment of total, humming silence – all of them still and staring, necks craned back, looking up at the thing.

Whatever it is.

It’s a ball. Big and blue and shimmering, it floats above a wide crystalline dish set into the floor, spinning on an axis. Just spinning and spinning and spinning, endless motion. Its smooth surface is cut through with dark wavering lines, etched with lettering, and it doesn’t quite glow but it doesn’t not glow, either, the light moving across it silkily, like clouds in a blue sky. It looks like something that should be humming – a low pitch in their ears, an eerie shiver dancing over their skin – but it’s silent. Inert, maybe, but for the spinning.

“What is it?” Efri asks. Her voice cracks as she speaks. She looks down at Sissel’s face, staring as though mesmerised, illuminated by the room’s dim lighting – the fires that should not still be burning down here, the luminous not-glow of the ball.

Sissel says, “I don’t know. Something important.”

Hovering above the dish, it spins, and spins, and spins.

“Is it what the ghost was talking about?” Efri asks. She tilts her head and squints at it. It doesn’t – well, it looks strange and unearthly and powerful, but it isn’t doing anything. And it hadn’t been clear what the ghost was talking about, exactly, according to Sissel, just that it was something important – but what else could it be?

Sissel, still watching it, shrugs. “I don’t know,” she says. “I think so.”

Efri watches it with her, brushing a bit more hair out of her face. It’s sticking to her sweaty forehead. She feels a drip of not-dry blood running down her arm under her sleeve.

Kazari is staring at it too – just as confounded as the rest of them. Efri sees the light in their irises shifting as the ball spins.

They’re not learning anything from staring, the ball staying strange and mysterious as ever, so Efri raps her knuckles against her sternum to steady her breathing (it’s slowed a bit – not normal, but closer to it) and climbs up onto the stone rimming of the dish. Kazari, behind her, lows in consternation; Sissel catches her breath, a noise like a creaking door. “Careful,” she says.

“Promise,” Efri replies, and places her feet very, very carefully on the glassy blue flooring. Nothing happens. She doesn’t step on the dark curved lines as she treads toward the ball in the centre, slow and wary as if she were approaching a skittish animal. Nothing happens.

She reaches out, and, with just the tips of her fingers, she grazes the ball’s surface.

Nothing happens.

It’s cool to the touch, and smooth, like polished metal or not-frozen ice or delicate glasswork. It continues to spin gently under her fingers, warming her glove with friction, no smudges left on its clouded face.

 It really feels like there should at least be a tingle running up her arm, a strange and unfamiliar current, a spark. But it’s just Efri, standing with an arm outstretched, pressing her hand to a ball.

“It’s not doing anything,” she reports, and Sissel clambers up onto the dish with her, fitting her palm to its gently hovering underside. Kazari balks, begins pacing agitatedly. Efri frowns. “Why isn’t it doing anything? Shouldn’t it be doing something?”

“It’s important,” Sissel says definitively. There’s ancient dust on her fingers, but none of it seems to transfer. “It’s something really special, I think.”

Efri shifts restlessly. She shifts her grip and tries to grab onto the dark ridged curves ringing its surface, but they slip easily away from her grasp as though her touch was no barrier at all. “But what does it do?”

Sissel shrugs.

Behind them, Kazari lows.

Efri drops her hand and grabs Sissel’s wrist. “C’mon,” she says, and when Sissel frowns at her, “We’re not going to learn anything about it this way. We have to look for clues!”

Kazari makes a more impatient noise. (Efri thinks she found a clue.)

Sissel gives the ball one last searching look and lets Efri tug her away, off the weird blue dish and down to where Kazari stands on the stone floor, at the head of the table where the dead man sat. Efri sniffs loudly and tries not to think about it too much. The table is smooth polished stone, worn a little away with time; Efri trails a gloved finger over the edge and directs her attention to where Kazari points with their chin.

There’s something carved into the surface, the edges blunted and shapes softened by however many years it must have been since it was put there. Efri squints, trying to make it out. She has to stand right up on her tiptoes to get the right angle to see much of it in full.

“That’s not letters,” she says eventually, frowning. She’s pretty sure she knows her alphabet well enough by now to know that. “Is it magic?”

Sissel shakes her head. “I don’t know what it is. It’s not like magical writing I’ve ever seen.”

Efri looks at Kazari, who also shakes her head. “Maybe it’s a different sort of lettering,” she theorises. It must have been written a long time ago, if it’s from back when the city had people. Onmund’s been reading all about it for ages, and he’s told her a bit – Saarthal was the city of Atmorans, populated by proto-Nordic people. All complicated history stuff. But they weren’t quite the same as Nords today, he said, so it stands to reason they had different writing, too. They’re supposed to be uncovering and cataloguing artifacts (at the thought, Efri glances back at the hovering ball and swallows an inane bubble of laughter) so she suggests, “Maybe you can copy it and we can show it to someone. I’m sure there’ll be someone at the College what knows what it is.”

Sissel, also standing on her toes, nods dutifully. “What will you do?”

The chamber they’re in is cavernous, and about empty but for the ball in the dish, the altar and chair, the body on the ground. “I’ll check him,” she says, and points. “See if he has anything on him that’s special.”

Sissel follows her finger and grimaces.

She digs out her note-paper and her stick of char, and Efri assumes it’s clues time, but when she turns she feels a hand grip her elbow. She looks back over her tattered shoulder at Sissel’s face, her furrowed brow.

“Promise you’re really okay?” she says, voice anxious and solemn.

“Promise,” Efri says, twisting her arm to touch her friend’s hand. Sissel presses her lips together and lets go of her arm.

Kazari trails after Efri to look at the dead man.

First thing is the metal stick. It’s magic someway, Efri knows – he waved it and threw her into a wall, flung spells with it – but she’s not sure how. Doesn’t know enough about enchantments. Didn’t need to, to use it; when Kazari clamped down on his arm she just ripped it from his grasp and –

She doesn’t quite exactly remember, actually, except for the bitter tang of adrenaline in her mouth and nose, the horrible grunting and scuffling sounds, the heft of the stick in her hands. Impact, over and over and over, against something that had a little more give each time.

Efri scrubs a hand over her mouth and grips the handle of the stick. It takes effort to wrest it out of the thing’s face, caught as it is by the edges of the helmet, and when it’s finally yanked free it’s – actually not as bad as she might have expected. There’s no blood, and the corpse was so desiccated it already didn’t even really look like a person anymore, so it registers less as someone with horrible violence done to it and more as a really gross art piece. It’s not nice. She doesn’t like the twisted, gaping mouth, teeth embedded wrong-ways in its tissue and scattered like coins over the floor. And one of the eyes, which had glowed unearthly blue, is now a dull, rotten black, squished like a plum in its socket.

It's worse the more she looks. She sniffs and turns away.

“This is magic, right?” she asks Kazari, testing the weight of it in her hands, the cool surface of the metal, and they nod. “A good artifact?” she adds, and they nod again, emphatically. Efri sets the stick aside and kneels.

It wasn’t wearing any clothes, really – or if it was, they rotted away. She touches the rusted armour gingerly, tries to avoid brushing her gloves against the shrivelled skin at all. Whoever it was had expensive taste, it seems – there’s jewellery in a shockingly well-preserved beard, pendants around the neck, armbands. Efri asks Kazari if each thing is enchanted. No to the armbands, no to the beard-ring, and then, pressed against the wizened chest where the flesh contours to the ribs, she finds some kind of necklace, sharp-edged and thrumming. Kazari nods to that, and, face scrunched up like an old fruit, Efri reaches around the ancient neck to slip it off.

She tucks it into a belt pocket with the tripwire necklace they found at the weird wall.

“Done,” Sissel says. She folds her paper and slips it into her own pouch. Her footfalls on the echo-y stone floor as she approaches the body for the first time are almost silent. “Did you find anything?”

“Necklace,” Efri replies, watching Sissel’s face pinch at the sight of him. “And – stick.” She scoops up the metal stick and holds it out. “He did spells with it.”

Sissel looks at it warily. “Is he a draugr?” she asks, glancing back down at his mashed-up face.

“I mean,” Efri says, “he’s got to be, right?” She’s certainly never seen a draugr before, but what else could it be?

(Calling it a draugr makes her shiver, the set of her shoulders quaking. She’ll stick to dead man.)

Sissel shudders. She reaches out to grip the handle of the stick, and Efri’s not sure if she’s taking it or just trying to keep herself upright. “I can’t believe that happened,” she says. Her voice sounds, suddenly, fragile. “I can’t believe we’re alive.”

“Me neither,” Efri says. She presses the tip of the stick into the ground so Sissel can lean on it, stands a little unsteadily.

Kazari, with a hushed murmur, telegraphs something. Efri recognises the head incline of understanding – she’s familiar with that word, that idea – and, after a moment, the flickering ear of doubt.

“They’ll have to believe us,” she says with conviction, because she means it. “We’ll show them. They’ll see for themselves.”

Kazari presses their nose to her head.

Efri clasps her hands together. “We’ll go tell someone now,” she declares – though it’s easier said than done; they were lost in the ruins ages before they even found the crumbling wall, the halls, this horrible wonderful chamber. But they’ll get un-lost eventually. They’ll get out eventually. Surely. They have practice enough with walking. “But first – help me find my stick.”

#little girl has a kill count now!! more at 11 #for context: I altered stuff leading up to the discovery of the eye #efri and sissel went off to play in the undiscovered halls of this ancient archeological dig site #on the grounds that efri has a great sense of navigation and they'll find their way back to the group no problem. #(efri has a great sense of navigation in the wilderness.) #(introduce her to a series of roads and buildings and she is lost in the sauce.) #their friends split up to look for them after they've been missing from a while (wandering around with great interest and no sense of place #(incredibly lost) #kazari happens upon them right as they've found a necklace at the end of a dead-end passageway that - when dutifully grabbed #for archeological research purposes - ended up triggering the wall to crumble or disappear or otherwise remove itself from the equation #and efri wasn't going to just. LEAVE that opening there. #come ONN kazari that's weird!! we can't just leave it!! what if it closes up and we never ever find it again and there's incredible secrets #that the college never finds! what if we never know what's through there! #we HAVE to know what's through there! #so on they go. #and so ensue the horrors #they pass a lot of dead bodies before the main all but those ones are all immobile #also sissel is the only one to receive the psijic projection warning. which she explains to the others as a ghost telling her secrets #which efri accepts bc this seems like the kind of place that would for sure have ghosts #and kazari goes sure that tracks this place is fucking creepy can we leave now (<- is also curious but HAS to put on a show of reluctance #because clearly no-one else is going to) #(permanent babysitter of kids with the worst self-preservation instincts imaginable) #(she is so strong. living every childcare worker's nightmare) #ANYWAY #:D #normal type stuff #posting because it matches the artwork I'm also posting! look at that thing!!! #fay writes #oc tag #efri

[sunmoontruth-stiles]

I need a completely rewritten teen wolf series with Derek Hale as the main character. I think it would heal me.

#we follow Derek from New York. Laura left for beacon hills. it’s been six years since he was back but he hasn’t heard from her #and hes going stir crazy waiting. he packs up and travels back. it’s almost too much immediately. he still can’t get a hold of Laura #he can’t resist going home. it’s like a natural pull that guides him back. all at once he’s 16 again. staring at the wreckage of his life #deputy stilinski is sherrif now. it’s reassuring in the slightest that the police force seems to have moved on from how corrupt it was #he catches her scent and it’s putrid. bile catches in his throat. he seeks it out. still in denial to what he knows it means. #when he finds Laura it’s like the world ends all over again. he can’t stand to see her like this. he gives her a proper burial. #the best he can do at least #he visits Peter. he’s not the man Derek remembers- so full of fire and cunning. their relationship may have been strained at times. #often Derek felt more like Eve being swayed by the snake than a normal friendship #but this isn’t the sharp tongued uncle who guided him. this is a broken shell. all that remained of his family. he was so lost. #22 but he barely knew how to function without his family- his pack paving the way #Laura handled everything. she got the apartment. she made sure they had food. Derek looks back and feels so useless #he was so lost in his grief. Laura must of felt the same way but she never let them drown in it #she made sure he got his GED. even got him to enroll in community college classes. #he took them online. he never was able to warm up to people the same way. he used to be so full of life. now he just wanted to be left alone #he studied English. never finished his degree. doesn’t look like he ever will now. he can’t go back to Laura and his shared home. #can’t bare to see another shell of a home #he vents to the vacant audience of Peter and his cold fixed eyes #Derek leaves. he wants to promise he’ll return soon #but promises feel costly these days #he decides to go back to the reserve. maybe he can find some clue as to what happened to Laura #someone lured her here. someone who knew them and their history here #his mind went to the worst. Kate. why would she go through the trouble six years later. why wait so long. #Derek couldn’t stomach the thought of facing her. he focused on the woods. the scents were all over the place. #clearly multiple people had been through here recently. two scents were much stronger. Derek follows them #but when he hears the crunch of leaves he realizes why the scents are so strong. they’re still here #he ducks behind some trees. listening in on their conversation. but an echo of their scent catches his attention #he spots an inhaler on the ground. he puts two and two together and swipes it from the leaves. #he comes out once they’re closer. tossing over the inhaler- he figures they’ll leave. dumb kids messing around in the woods #he reminds them this is private property. though that may not be true anymore. he recognizes the scent of a new beta. interesting.

[bitegore]

god i really forgot that every business management professor specifically is the most unpleasant human being alive for no good reason. i have two business classes with like econ and accounting professors respectively and those look fine and then oh my god if i have to go back to this class with this professor i think i might actually kill myself

#red rambles #she's not. *mean*. she is. um. fucking. i think condescendiing is the word #she made us do a kahoot in class on questions we didn't know explicitly because she knew we didn't know them. i hate kahoots #she went through the syllabus like we were children which. fine whatever every professor does that it's why i hate the first class #but she also kept going off topic to give us life advice. never give me life advice ill fucking kill you #im really not sure what else was my fucking problem but i genuinely felt like i was being psychologically tortured #also i have done one of the several assignments for the class already and they're babyshit but its going to be one of my most #busywork heavy classes and she wants us doing discussion questions every fucking week #and i have to download yet another fucking app for her class #and i need it for my degree plan but oh my GOD. i need to get the fuck out of it #im gonna try and find a different session of the class taught by a different professor and switch in #do you know how much i have to hate a class if im willing to eat two entire finished homework assignments to get out of it #eta. i take it with this professor or i take it with a different professor i know and already know i cant stand #who is also going to work us like dogs unlike this prof who is going to apparently treat us like we are 14 years old #i guess its not college if i'm not being forced to experience psychological torment for an hour and a half every couple days lol #ill just have to like eat something before that class and do my best to fortify myself before i go in and turn evil

[fairy-angel222]

𝐃𝐈𝐋𝐅 𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓 𝐃𝐎𝐎𝐑 𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩

—in which toji is constantly fucking women and disturbing your peace. your complaints lead to you becoming one of them.

pairing: toji fushiguro x fem! college reader

cw: smut, breeding, daddy kink, size kink, age gap, toji being a cocky prick, unsafe sex, ass slapping, mentions of cervix touching

Ever since you heard about your next door neighbor Mr. Fushiguro going through a divorce, things have been hell. For you.

From the day he first moved into the apartment, constantly arguing on the phone with his ex wife about whose turn it was to watch his son, Megumi.

When Megumi is over, everything’s quiet, and you finally get a chance to rest your head and relax in peace. Doing some studying and cleaning in the quiet atmosphere.

You wished the black haired boy would stay for just a day longer, because Toji is back to his usual self hours later. Bringing in young college girls one after the other. Fucking them hard against his headboard as they let out loud cries of daddy. It was annoying. You could even stay inside anymore to get work done.

At every hour of the day he seemed to be active, fucking through all sorts of women, the shaking of your thin bedroom wall never coming to an end as high pitched moans echoed through.

It was getting to the point where you couldn’t take it. You were so fed up. Didn’t he ever get tired? Tired of promising these young desperate girls to call them back only to throw away their numbers and fuck their friends the next day.

Weeks go by and nothing changes, Megumi coming over for a silent three days then leaving again. Giving his father enough time to fuck any feelings for his ex wife out of his system.

You swore you couldn’t take it, you had barely been able to study, occasionally spending an hour or two in a nearby café between classes. When you noticed your grades slipping, your eyes having prominent bags at the lack of sleep, you groan loudly in frustration. Finding your legs moving before you could even process it.

Your fist raising to knock on the man’s door once, then twice, with no answer. You huffed, going in to knock a third time before the door swung open. A tall, muscular man towering over you with a scowl. “What?”

Your eyes widened as you scanned over his body, his perfectly sculpted face, broad shoulders, defined abs, and the very distinct outline in his sweats.

The man cleared his throat, a smirk gracing his face when he startled you out of your intense drooling. “Now, what do we have here?” he chuckled deeply, tilting his head to the side with crossed arms as he rested against the door’s frame. “Here to get your turn doll?”

You gulped, finding it harder to spit out your words as the Fushiguro man stared you down. “I.. I’m here to ask you to keep the noise down, some people have actual work to do.”

Toji whistled, “Oh? A bold one huh? I like it,” His hand reaching under your chin to make you look fully up at him. “you’re a pretty little thing you know,” he spoke, running his thumb along your bottom lip, “wonder what you’d look like ruined underneath me.”

You ignored the flutter that went off in your pussy, clenching your thighs discreetly as you glared. “Just keep the noise down okay old man? I'm trying to study.”

Toji could feel his cock grow harder, you were just what he needed. “So i’m an old man now? That’s a first, usually girls like you just call me daddy.” he shrugged, “but it’s okay, you’ll get there.”

You rolled your eyes as you walked away from him, annoyance written all over your face to mask the arousal swirling in your stomach. He’d probably fucked the entire neighborhood by now, including the campus, so you weren’t gonna fall for his sick charms. You just hoped he complied and kept the place quiet, you didn’t need that usual noise the day before your big test.

Toji had surprisingly did as you asked, and you sighed in content as you read through the pages of your notes. Your pen in your hand finding itself in between your teeth as you bit down softly. You got what you wanted, so why was your mind running wild with thoughts of the Fushiguro man’s hands on your body as he fucked you like all of those other girls.

You shifted in your seat, one leg over the other to bring stimulation to your needy clit making you whimper softly. You couldn’t let yourself give in.

Another week passed and you once again found yourself in the same noisy predicament. Your mind couldn’t help but wander to the man more than twice your age. Way too old for you yet just so.. hot. Toji Fushiguro had become your fantasy.

And it was unbearable.

Hearing all these moans day and night. Hearing Toji’s loud grunts and groans as he no doubt left them with the best fuck of their lives.

It was Thursday, and Megumi would be coming tomorrow per routine, so you’d finally get a break then. But, you couldn’t deny the fact that you wanted an excuse to go over there. Your face serious as you banged on his door.

You waited a minute, a shirtless Toji emerging into the door frame as it flew open. Toji smirked, “Ah, you again.” His sweatpants hung dangerously low beneath the start of his v line, black hair messy as his tongue darted out to swipe across his lips. “Finally came to your senses?”

His last fuck had left right before you came, coincidentally of course.

“N-no.” you objected sternly. “I’m here to ask you again to just be.. what are yo-“

You swallowed hard when he began stalking towards you, a sinister grin on his face as you were backed up against a wall. His breath fanned your head as he bent his neck. Hands on the walls near each side of your face. “Your face says otherwise, doll.”

“No it d-doesn’t.. you’re just a cocky old man preventing me from getting things done.”

Toji’s brow raised with a deep hearty chuckle, “Back to that nickname i see,” His hand grabbing hold of your cheeks and squeezing them together. “Gonna have to clean that mouth of yours, teach you how to be a good girl.”

You whimpered lowly, feeling wetness pool between your legs as you looked up through your lashes. Toji’s eyes trailing to your glossy lips as he inhaled sharply. “Don’t worry, this dirty old man’s lips are clean”

Pressing his lips roughly to yours, your eyes widening as you gripped the edge of your skirt with a moan. Toji smirked against your lips, his hands hooking beneath your legs as he lifted you up. Your frame so much smaller in comparison to his larger one.

Toji was quick to bring you inside. And you found yourself sitting on the man’s lap, your skirt bunched up at your hips as he hammered up into your wet cunt with brute force. His hands kneading into the flesh of your ass each time you ground your hips onto him.

You let out a loud mewl, his thick cock stretching you out and grazing against your gummy walls as he fucked you deep. Feeling him within your stomach when you cried out. “Fushiguro-san— ah, so- ngh g-ood.”

“That’s not my name doll, try again.” he growled deeply, landing his palm onto your ass in a hard slap. And you whimpered tearfully at the sting. “T-toji—” Another harsh smack burning through your flesh making you let out a cry. “Last chance.”

You moaned loudly, your back arching as Toji slammed into you. “D-daddy, ahh daddy, o-oh fuckk—,”

Toji hummed in satisfaction, “Look at you, thought i was a dirty old man hmm?” His teeth biting softly at the delicate skin of your neck, his pelvis hitting your red puffy folds relentlessly. “Moaning for me like a little slut, so fucking pretty.”

You let out a shaky cry, “Haah— F-fushiguro-san,” Your pussy clenched down on his girth, his rough hand making its way around your throat, squeezing the sides and forcing you to look at him. “Not gonna fucking tell you again.”

You mewled, “‘M sorry— nngh,” Your back arching when Toji bullied his cock deeper into you.

“Still waiting doll.” he grunted, eyes dark as his grip on your throat tightened, your moans and whimpers loud as his thighs noisily met your sticky cunt. “D-addy— ahh- so good,” you cried, feeling his angry tip forcing its way to your cervix, kissing the entrance with each harsh thrust.

“Good fucking girl, you’re getting there” he grinned with a groan. A creamy ring formed around the base of his cock, your pussy gushing messily onto him as loud squelching sounds filled the room. “Pussy’s so fucking tight— better be on the pill cause i’m botta cum in that pretty pussy, shit.”

“Ah— nngh daddy, ‘m close- gonna cum.” you whimpered, your eyes rolling back and your lips parting in a string of incoherent babbles, Toji’s thrusts sloppy as he groaned.

“Gonna cum on this old man’s dick yeah?” He teased cockily, “Had so much talk for someone who’s falling apart on my cock.” Toji grunted, “Bet ya sat there listening like a lil perv, your hand down your panties hmm?”

You shook your head no with a cry, “Uh uh- ahh— wasn’t.”

“Sure about that? Sure you didn’t sit there and fantasize about me fucking you like a little slut?” His hand reached down to rub at your clit, a loud moan escaping your mouth.

Your breathing sped up as you felt a coil buildup in your stomach. Your body shaking with pure ecstasy. You let out a high pitched scream, the stimulation to your g spot making your head go fuzzy. Vision turning white as you clenched down tightly on Toji’s cock.

“O-oh fuck— ‘m cumming— ah, cumming daddy.” Toji’s hand pressed down harder on your throat, the pressure restricting your air flow making you let out a choked mewl. Tears welling in your eyes as his heavy balls smacked against your ass.

“Nngh—” The ring of white thickened at his base as you let out whiny cries. Toji’s hand working small circles on the sensitive bud before he brought his lips to your ear. His voice deep and gruff as he groaned. “Fuck doll- squeezing me so tight, come on and scream for me.” He breathed, “make a mess on my cock.”

Toji’s mean pace became too much, a tight pull in your stomach as your mouth fell open, legs trembling with loud cries as an unfamiliar feeling washed over you.

It was heavenly, your brain going dumb and your pupils disappearing behind heavy lids as you screamed loudly, head falling back and nails digging into his shoulders as you fell off the edge.

Toji never slowing the movement of his hips, still hammering up into you despite the mess you were making on his thighs. Your pussy spraying streams after streams of clear liquid as you arched your hips, grinding back and forth to ride out your squirting orgasm.

“Even fucking louder than any of my previous fucks.” he laughed, “Wonder what the neighbors would say, went from being a whiny little bitch to being the same thing you complained about.”

You let out a whine, Toji flipping you abruptly onto your back, his hand still around your neck as the position allowing him to hit even deeper. “Fuck,” he grunted, his words in between each thrust. “gonna fucking breed that pussy so deep.” Letting out a low groan at the last thrust, his lips meeting yours in a sloppy kiss as he bottomed out.

A whimper fell past your lips into his when you felt him fill you up, his cum shooting in hot thick spurts along the walls of your cunt.

He smirked as he pulled away, watching you pant heavily. “Would make such a good breeding bunny.” Dipping his fingers past your lips and resting them on the back of your tongue. “Might have to keep you around, can’t be disturbed if you’re the one making the noise now can you?”

You shook your head tiredly, forcing your eyes to stay open as Toji pulled out of you. His sticky cum seeping out of your fluttering pussy slowly. Your brain was still so clouded, blinking in and out of blurry vision.

Toji hid the smile threatening to creep up onto his face, his face neutral as he plopped down onto the couch next to you. “Rest if you need to, then leave.” He said nonchalantly, trying to seem like his usual self despite the fact that he had not kicked you out yet. Which was something he never did, let a girl stay any longer than a second after sex.

The man would never admit it, but there was just something about you.

He wanted to make you his pretty little doll.

#jjk smut #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk #jjk x reader smut #toji x reader smut #toji smut #toji x reader #toji fushiguro #toji x you #jujutsu toji #jjk toji #toji fushigro x reader #toji fushiguro smut

[master-gatherer]

.

#i could never be internet famous #like somehow i seem to get the really obnoxious asshole within the first or second replies #not to detract from people that get hundreds of those on top of a thousand pretty decent replies #but the number of times i didnt even get the pleasant experience before some dickhead came along and ruined it #idk man some people just cannot read a room #and think that this post with zero notes from this nobody is exactly who needs to get 'put in their place' or w/e #at least here its all strangers i can block #on facebook i had people who i knew in real life do that constantly #shoutout to that one college teacher i had who could not keep his damn mouth shut when not about him #like would you do this if we were in the same room? maybe thats why people find you unpleasant #(said teacher was cool in person and it was after i had finished the class with him but oh my god learn some internet ettiquette) #honestly the number of truly pleasant internet experiences ive had outweigh the shitty ones (love to my friends and mutuals 😘) #but this is that psyche thing where you focus on the bad way more than the good- a thing i am aware i need to work on #just idk man #it shouldnt weigh on me like it does but b/t not having written much in like a year (after i thought i was over my writers block) #the thought of finally finishing my thing and putting it out there only to be met by a handful of readers who do not get what im doing #and deciding to make it my problem #even if its outweighed by people who dig what im doing #makes me even less inclined to get back to it #i need to work through it i know #maybe i need to just tell myself i dont have to share it #it can wallow on my harddrive #worked the first time

[liinos]

It makes me fucking insane how grad programs are like oh did you not go immediately into a masters? Well you better have a good reason why or we might not think you deserve to get one bc you're not committed 🤭 omg you didn't cure cancer or solve world inequality before applying? Don't even look in our direction 🤮 it's so great you want to further your education it would really be a shame if we made it as hard as possible 👉👈

#you read the shit they want and its like okay guess i should kms would that be enough for you😭 #also omg i fr need the whole 3 references needed thing explained bc a lot of people do higher education later in life #for one reason or another and i KNOW professors dont remember people past like. a year so 🤨 what then #also sorry sorry but stuff like that grinds my gears bc some of us keep our heads down and mind or business #we dont network and the whole 'you should do it for your future' idea leaves such a bad taste in my mouth bc it feels exploitative #but like sorry i suffer from crippling shyness and speaking to my professors made me feel like i should have been shot 👍 #higher education is so fucked bc they make you jump through so many hoops and like. mf i am still paying you for this #do you want money or not???? like a phd program i get but you pay tuition for a masters......... #anyway. i dont think ill end up bothering bc reading requirements today made me almost cry out of frustration so👍👍👍👍 #anyone else feel like everyone else is miles ahead of them and that theyre just floundering😁 woefully underprepared and #underqualified for life and suffering the consequences of being terrified to speak to people in college 👍 #and also simultaneously numb to and unable to handle rejection 👍 #like i could find non college courses just for personal betterment but even thinking about it fills me with hashtag shame #and it doesnt help that no matter what i do if it isnt smth exactly in line with my parents thinking theyre so judgy about it 😔 #and i cant even talk to them about how i feel bc one thing about them they will make me feel sooooo much worse when🤣 #they never react the way id want or expect them to its kind of hilarious like i dont even WANT to talk to them #it would be equivalent to torture for me quite frankly 👍 idk maybe ill talk through it with my friend #shes at least sort of where im at but shes also like. Doing Shit and Has Plans so. #but i think she gets me a little bit. granted i may cry and i dont really need to do that in front of her #for many reasons 😭😭 i would fr never be able to face her again #anyway. how are your nights going

[heich0e]

yuuji calls sukuna a lot.

it's almost like second nature to him now, muscle memory even, so many years since getting his first cellphone; any time he finds himself idle, maybe on his walk home after his part-time job, or on a break between his college classes, he picks up his phone and dials his older brother without thinking. they never talk about anything of importance—maybe just what yuuji did that day, or some gossip he overheard, or what the two of them should have that night for dinner—but he still makes the call.

sukuna always acts annoyed when he answers, greeting him with a characteristically terse 'yeah, what?' that yuuji never pays any mind to. but he still answers the call—at least most of the time—and that simple truth speaks volumes in and of itself.

sukuna's phone rings at a few minutes past 1am, and his little brother's name lights up the caller ID.

"yeah, what?" sukuna snaps groggily, holding his phone up to his ear. he'd passed out on the couch soon after he got home from work, a half-drunk and now room temperature can of beer left abandoned on the table in front of his spread knees. yuuji's babbling starts as soon as the call connects and his brother greets him, and it takes sukuna a moment to make sense of him.

"—'n now i can't finder!"

"the hell are you talking about, dumbass?" the elder of the two grumbles, scrubbing a hand across his face. his brother's voice is panicked and hard to understand.

"we got spliddup at the bar, 'n now i dunno where she is anymore—"

"don't know where who is? fuck, are you hammered?" sukuna complains, sitting himself upright on the sofa as he wipes sleep from the corner of his eyes, suddenly a bit more awake than he was when the phone first rang.

yuuji says your name with a croaking, worried voice, and sukuna sighs exasperatedly. he stares down pensively at the can of beer he forgot to drink on the coffee table, then his eyes flicker to a framed photo hanging on the wall across the room—the glass smudged, frame slightly crooked, and photograph sun-bleached from the years it's spent hanging there.

"just..." he grunts as he pushes himself up to his feet, "fuckin' send me the address and stay where you are, idiot."

it's not hard to find his little brother once he arrives to the address yuuji sent him—especially since the youngest itadori brother is waiting (as promised) right by the entrance of the familiar bar near the university campus where both you and yuuji attend classes. it's still busy for so late in the night, but the clubs are closed now and little bars like this are the only places still open. sukuna's not even sure what the difference is anyway, because the lights here are still dim and the music is loud and there are still people dancing off to one side of the establishment, so the distinction between the two seems tenuous if not entirely negligible. but as someone who's spent his fair share of nights in bars just like (and including) this one, he's usually not really one to complain.

but tonight's different.

yuuji is teetering a bit when his brother arrives—an unusual sight, considering he's usually pretty good at holding his liquor.

"shit, how much did you drink?" are the first words out of sukuna's mouth when he approaches.

the youngest itadori's cheeks are flushed as pink as his hair, and he grimaces in the wake of the eldest's question—he's always been a terrible liar, especially when it comes to his brother, so he doesn't even bother trying to deny it. sukuna doesn't wait for a response in any case, turning his head towards the thick of the crowd and letting his eyes scan through it.

he doesn't see you.

"where'd you see her last?" he asks, leaning towards his brother to be heard over the music.

"by the bar!" yuuji replies, raising his own voice to overcome the bass. "she said she was getting one last drink, but she never came back to the table."

yuuji's lip wobbles a bit as he concludes his sentence, but he sucks it quickly into his mouth and catches it between his teeth.

"and you looked for her?" sukuna asks again.

"all over," yuuji nods, letting his lip slip out from between the bite of his incisors to reply. "fushiguro's doing another lap. nobara's checking the bathrooms."

sukuna ruffles a hand through his hair, suddenly realizing it's probably a mess from his rudely-interrupted slumber. "maybe she just left or somethin'."

"she wouldn't do that, you know that," yuuji says firmly. there's an insistence burning behind his eyes as he looks to his older brother, and it's the most sober he's seemed all night.

sukuna rolls his eyes, even though he knows yuuji's right—you'd never leave on your own, much less without so much as a goodbye. the two of you have been joined at the hip for long enough he's almost surprised that yuuji wasn't able to find you with some weird telepathic form of echolocation. he swings an arm up over his little brother's shoulders pushing him down a little just to tease him, before using his grip to tug him towards the crowd.

"you track down that little sea urchin friend of yours and i'll take a look around. meet me back here in ten minutes or text me if you find that little pest, alright?"

the bar is harder to navigate the further in sukuna travels from the entrance, the bodies pressing closer together with every step he takes away from fresh night air. he's pissed off, but that's not out of character for him. he's more pissed off than he usually is, considering not even an hour before he'd been peacefully sleeping at home, and now he's glaring at some drunk college kid who just almost spilled their beer on him.

"move," he hisses through his teeth at the wide-eyed kid whose life he can practically see flashing through his eyes as he shoulders past him. sukuna would be lying if he said the look didn't improve his mood at least marginally.

as sukuna weaves through the bodies in the bar, his eyes don't stop looking for you. it's almost startling how quickly he can rule people out—how definitively he can say that someone is or isn't you with just a passing glance. he starts to doubt himself as he reaches the far corner of the bar and begins to round back towards the entrance, an annoying, grating irritation in the back of his mind. worry, maybe, if he were the type.

then he sees you.

just the faintest glimpse of your profile, caught behind the shoulder of the man who has you backed into a corner by a pillar, hidden mostly away from the crowd—at least as hidden as anyone can be in a place like this.

sukuna feels his lip curling into a furious sneer as he takes a step towards you—people move out of his path wordlessly as he trudges over to that dark corner where you're tucked away.

it's only when he gets a bit closer that he's able to read the lines of your body properly. you're teetering, just like yuuji had been—the two of you had probably enabled each other in your intoxication that night like the stupid kids sukuna knows you both to be. but you're also distinctly uncomfortable, pressed up against the wall as if to put as much distance between you and the man hovering over you as you possibly can. your eyes glance off to the side, like you're searching uselessly for an escape.

instead, they meet his.

"sukuna," you gasp out in surprise, and the man you're speaking to glances over his shoulder in confusion. he seems annoyed, and a bit nervous, when he spots the man (taller, and broader than he is) standing behind him with a scowl.

sukuna hears the relief in your voice when you say his name. reads it behind your glassy eyes.

"what are you doing here?" you ask, reaching out towards him clumsily.

the man in front of you puts a hand on your waist—possibly to steady you, more likely to stop you—and it makes sukuna see red.

"hands off," sukuna snaps, wrapping a hand around your upper arm and tugging you into his side away from the creep.

"who's this? you said you don't have a boyfriend," the kid asks you, jutting a thumb towards sukuna accusatorially.

you mumble something quietly in reply about him being yuuji's brother, tucking yourself a bit closer to sukuna as you say it.

"your brother?" he asks as his eyes squint in confusion, having clearly only caught part of your explanation. "you're ditching me for your brother?"

sukuna's anger flares again at the entitlement this little brat has the nerve to display so flagrantly. the older man's hand slips down to your waist on instinct, and then lower still to the curve of your ass, making a show of how his big hand grips into the flesh beneath it. you squeak quietly at the contact, turning and hiding your burning face against sukuna's chest. he keeps his hand right where it is.

the stranger's eyes widen at the inappropriate display before him and sukuna leans in close with a vicious, almost manic grin.

"we're very close."

#sukuna x reader #jjk drabble #jjk writing #big brother!sukuna

[tteokdoroki]

☆༉ — YUUJI ITADORI. isn’t it weird? how love never changes.

about. no matter what anyone says, yuuji itadori’s love for you is unwavering and he hopes that you’ll never see a reason to change. not for anyone, not even him. (1K)

warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact! sfw, fluff, characters are aged up to 20s and in college, weird gf and jock bf, yuuji is a jock and has obnoxious teammates, reader is an introvert and wears glasses, selfship coded i fear, fem!reader.

“itadori, don’t you think your girlfriend is a little.. weird?”

the pink haired jock blinks once, then frowns  as he tugs a fresh shirt over his head — practice with his soccer team had ran a little longer than anticipated and he didn’t feel like coming home to you, his girlfriend, in a stinky old shirt. 

yuuji’s not sure when the topic of locker room talk had switched onto him and his love life but he cares enough to bite — not about to let his teammates talk smack about his girl. “where’d you get that idea from?”

another teammate speaks up. “when she comes to your games, she wears your sweatshirts but doesn’t cheer for you at all.” 

“she’s just shy, nothing wrong with that.” yuuji counters.

“whenever we hang out at the after partie she’s always… clinging onto you… doesn’t drink with any of us.”

“i told you, she’s a little shy,”  he stands up a little straighter this time, narrowing his eyes. “and parties aren’t for everyone. she might not like them but she’s there to support me. shouldn’t that be enough?”

“but dude…” someone else speaks up. “don’t you find any of that strange? like she’s just… weird.”

yuuji can’t get home fast enough after that. he almost falls to pieces when he sees you singing and shuffling your way through the cupboards in his dorm kitchen — making yourself a snack. he loves it when you stay over and he gets to watch you like this, so calm and at ease in his space. he feels grateful to even be sharing it with you.

weird isn’t a word that yuuji itadori would use to describe his girlfriend. 

he finds you intriguing. your relationship is still new, so all of the differences between you both interest him beyond belief. each time he discovers a new habit of yours (like the way you forget to take your glasses off when you sleep) or a fact about your life before college, or finds out something obscure relating to your hobbies and interests… yuuji can’t help but to fall in love with you all over again. like an astronomer who’s searching for the secrets of the universe, the pink haired jock wants to know every interesting little detail that makes you, you. 

that’s created the very person he loves today. 

“please never change,” yuuji breathes against the back of your head once he’s home. you can’t even comprehend the speed at which he’s dropped his gym back before he’s wrapped himself around you in the same manner that a boa constrictor would. only more affectionate. “and if you do, let me change with you.” 

being this close to itadori, you can smell his baby-fresh soap and the tinge of sweat from his work out. you can feel the strength of his arms as they squeeze you close from behind — like he’ll never let you go. he makes you feel loved even when it’s not on purpose, you go your every waking moment cared for and adored by yuuji itadori. it’s always subconscious, unwavering and steady. your love is stable like that, never dampened from those outside of the two of you — that much will never change. 

“that’s a big ask, yuu.” comes your contented hum, but you don’t stop your actions — continuing to make your snack while the pink haired jock squeezes you tight. as if to become one with you. “people change all the time.” 

you hold up a hand behind you and he sucks the peanut butter from your thumb eagerly. “i know, but i don’t want what anyone else says about you or us to make you change,” he mumbles petulantly against the shell of your ear, trying to find the right words as he tucks his face into your neck. “you’re perfect to me, as you are.” 

it’s cute that he reminds you of such a trivial little thing. those big brown eyes of yuuji’s see perfection in all of your flaws. he loves you so much you wonder if how much you feel for him even compares. 

“what’s gotten into you?” you giggle, spinning in his arms to stand on the tips of your toes — pressing a soft kiss to the point at which your boyfriend’s jaw meets his neck. it’s all you can reach. “did something happen?” 

yuuji hesitates for a moment, lips pursed and honey-glazed eyes cast to the side. he would never lie to you, that’s not in his nature — but he’d never want to hurt your feelings either. “the guys…the guys on the team said some stuff about us today,” his voice trails off and his hands trail upwards, dipping underneath the jersey of his that you wear to draw circles into your waist using his rough thumbs. he figures it’s best to tell you before one of his teammates  let it slip and hurt your feelings. he would rather die then let that happen. “they… they think you’re weird and that… that we’re too different.” 

“o-oh.”

a flash of pain comes with the territory of yuuji’s honesty, but he’s quick to soothe it as though he’s running your burn under a stream of cool water. “but i like you. like…really really like you,” the words rush out while his eyes stay serious and set in stone. your boyfriend grasps both of your hands firmly before you can even think to cry or pull away.

yuuji is there and he is constant and that is never changing. not for anyone, except for you. “and i like all of the funny things about you. that you’re a little quiet, that you’re always by my side, that you leave me notes in my gym bag or share your celebrity crushes with me. i like you for you. even if you’re a little weird — then…then i am too!” 

his hands, strong and yet so soft, traverse up to your round cheeks — tilting your head up to face him. “please don’t ever change because of what people say,” yuuji repeats tenderly, his lips finding the crown of your head in a gentle kiss. he stays there, like a magnet on metal and the world stands still for a moment. remaining the same, no longer changing, so that yuuji itadori can love you as is. “the way you are right now, it’s everything to me.” 

itadori only moves when you tip your head back to get a better look at him, he looks down at you through his unfairly long lashes — brown eyed gaze latching onto yours while your hearts sync up, beating to the same drum. “i’ll never change, as long as you promise to always love me like this.”

“i’ll love you the same way that i always have. like i’m the luckiest guy in the world, yeah?” he laughs and you smile — because it’s hard to be upset when yuuji is around, and protects your love so genuinely. 

you lean up and he meets you half way — pressing a slow and lingering kiss to the swell of your lips, wrapping his arms around you once again as you away to a silent tune in his tiny dorm kitchen. 

change is inevitable of course. the two of you will grow and become different people than you are right now — but you will always find your way back to the beautiful love that you hold. 

much like a butterfly that blossoms into something beautiful too.

꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

#yuuji itadori x reader #itadori x you #itadori x reader #itadori fluff #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #yuuji itadori x you #jujutsu kaisen x you #yuji itadori x reader #jjk fluff #jjk smut #yuji itadori x you #itadori imagine #yuuji itadori #jujutus kaisen #tteokdoroki #✧ ₊˚੭ — writing #angelshubnetwork #ghostqueues

[frmisnow]

˙✧˖ ?! — KEEPING YOU IN BED (CAUSE I'M DOWN BED). - MDNI !!!

— ‧₊˚ — 🍵 : "wonder where your colleges think you are, they'd never guess i'm balls deep into you huh"??"

summary. going to work on your boyfriends single day-off already sounds like a death sentence, things only become worse when he makes it especially hard to leave the bed.

notes. SLEEPY HORNY KOOK AASHHSSHSH my roman empire... 😭 SORRY FOR THE TITLE I HAD A LIL GIGGLE OKAY ???

warnings/includes: (NSFW) dom! jungkook x f! sub! reader, starts sleepy + wholesome, turns a lil unhinged..., pounding, overstimulation, he's just a bit mean in second half (but we love it)

you rub your eyes, the morning sunlight blinding you through the sheer curtains - soft and rhythmic breathing audible beside you when you look over you find your boyfriend's chest rising and falling slowly, one of his arms still wrapped around your waist, in pure peace still somewhere in the deep roams of sleep.

after all it was his day off, a rare sanctuary in the hectic schedule of hislife, and yet, there you were, inching away from the warmth of his embrace, preparing to face the day ahead.

but as you attempted to free yourself from the tangle of sheets and limbs, a sleepy murmur escaped him, a half-formed quiet plea, "just few more minutes" His arm instinctively tightened around your waist, drawing you back into his tight hug, nuzzling his face to your middle body. quick little peeks placed all over tummy, almost like rubbing his face over you, his hands lazily tracing circles over your sides, "just a little longer"

he shifts his position, now completly lying over you, trapping and preventing you from leaving, wrapping his arms around your neck, "love you so much" whispered into your nape.

you giggled in response, your hands hugging his back, travelling under his shirt, rubbing over the skin gently, "you're trying everything to lure me in longer huh"

kook smiled sleeply against your skin, his head moved to your shoulder so he could look at your face better, lips roaming over your collarbone, settling on them for a split second, "is it working?"

"don't know, might have to try a bit harder" you answered in a joking tone, your fingers tracing light patterns on his back.

he squints his eyes, a faint smile on his face, raising his eyebrows, "oh really?" fake innocence added into his tone.

you were stupid.

in fact very much so.

out of experience you should've known that jungkook has an unbelievable amount of sheer competitivness inside him and if you unleash that - you're pretty much fucked.

you should've recognized that familar grin, you should've recognized those wandering hands of his that would do anything just to prove you wrong, just to remind you that nobody doubts him without well- consequences!

those consequences may include: him in the beginning softly manhandling you (in his own way y'know) which turns into him throwing away any sense of tiredness or gentleness he had before, sentences like "feel me fuckin pounding, listen to it" or "so much fuckin cum" rolling over his tongue as he overstimulates you over and over again.

damn well keeping that clock on the night stand at the corner of his eyes, just to rub it into your face, "how easy it was to get you to do this" or "wonder where your colleges think you are, they'd never guess i'm balls deep into you huh"

and oh he's looking for answers from you too, "what are you gonna tell your boss now?" half mumbeled half groaned as he slams into you once more chasing that 3rd orgasm, obviously knowing you're way to brainfucked to understand think about even responding.

"should've kept your fucking mouth shut, don't you think?" and all you can do in response is whimper and moan like a little bitch.

weirdly enough that's what satisfies him - the slutty expression on your face, the way your mouth stays slightly parted, the way your pussy tightens around him, the way your tits just fit so easily in his hands like they were made for him (which he'll openly say 2!), the way you sound, the way your body looks when he fucks you senseless - everything about you like this is so endearing to him and worth repeating over and over again.

he can be real sweet after, acting like it never even happened, bringing you breakfast to bed while you were lying bare trying to regain your brain acess again, innocently saying smth along the lines of: "i called you in sick for today" then adding, "it's not like it's worth going anyway might just spend the day with me" okay whatever you say kook :3

#kpop smut #bts ff #bts fanfic #bts #bts jungkook #bts fic #bts imagines #jungkook x y/n #jungkook x reader #jungkook headcanons #jungkook smut #jungkook #jungkook fluff #jungkook fic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook imagine #jungkook x you #jeon jungkook x reader #bts ffs #bts x you #bts au #bts x reader

[saetoru]

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩ PARTNERS — GOJO SATORU. (rich boy! au)

contents. college! au, rich boy! gojo, established relationship, you and suguru are partnered for a project instead of satoru…and he doesn’t take the news lightly, dramatic toru and INSTIGATOR suguru

satoru is sulking—you’d find it a little amusing any other day, but he seems a bit more upset than usual. and quite frankly, suguru isn’t really helping things out either, so you feel just a little bad.

“baby,” you poke his cheek, “it’s not our fault! we just got randomly assigned—”

“whatever,” he huffs. you tug at his arm, but he pulls it away.

it just so happens that the three of you seem to share a class this semester—but unfortunately, suguru is assigned as your partner for a project. it’s the same project satoru wanted to be paired with you for. he seems convinced it’ll be you and him that are called—which, in all honesty, the likelihood of being paired with you out of the multiple people in the class is low, but it’s only added insult to injury that suguru had the odds in his favor.

satoru is not handling it well.

“toru,” you insist, pinching his cheek in hopes to cheer him up. he scowls at you—as if this is your fault, “c’mon, cheer up! now that it’s suguru, you can just tag along when we work—”

“tag along?” he cuts you off, tone bordering on hurt, “so now i’m the third wheel?”

oh dear.

“n-no!” you say quickly—suguru has the audacity to snicker, earning a warning glance from you, “you’re never the third wheel, toru. you’re the first wheel! the only wheel. really!”

“y’know,” suguru starts—you already know whatever he’s about to say is going to make things ten times worse. you try (and fail) to glare at him until he’s silent. “if i recall, the two of you got together through a project, didn’t you? who knows, maybe you’ll have the biggest crush on me after this is over.”

suguru drops the bomb and winks. you look at him like you want to kill him. satoru’s face is devastated.

you think this might be the end.

“what?” satoru gasps, turning to you quickly, “tell him that’s impossible, tell him! tell him he’s hideous and that you only have eyes for me—”

“toru, of course i only have eyes for you, don’t listen to him, he’s just pushing your buttons—”

“hey, you never know. i might charm you,” suguru adds fuel to the fire—this time, you throw your water bottle at him. he catches it with ease, throwing you a smug grin that makes you scowl deeper.

“you’re hideous, suguru,” satoru spits, “no way anyone would leave me for you—”

“that already happened. remember your girlfriend in middle school?”

“that doesn’t count! we were too young to know what love was back then!”

satoru is practically inconsolable now—you consider dropping out of this class just for the sake of peace. maybe you can take it over the summer and be paired with a random stranger that won’t bother your dramatic boyfriend. maybe you can evade the project altogether with a different professor. maybe you can kill suguru and the misfortune of a dead partner can grant you an automatic exemption from this assignment.

you weigh your options as satoru slumps with a pout.

“whatever,” he grumbles, “i don’t even care. have fun without me.”

suguru chuckles, shaking his head in amusement. you sigh before cupping satoru’s cheeks and giving him a small kiss to his forehead to cheer him up.

not surprisingly, it doesn’t seem to work.

“cheer up, baby,” you reason, “at least since it’s just suguru, you won’t have to leave us alone to work! it won’t be awkward if you’re there too.”

“but you’ll be too busy working with suguru to talk to me,” he says bitterly.

“at least i’ll have a handsome face to keep me motivated,” you grin, kissing his jaw—now that…that seems to cheer him up considerably. he brightens, plastering that usual smug grin he sports, as if the world around him wasn’t ending just moments ago.

“i am handsome, aren’t i?” he hums, wrapping an arm around you—mission accomplished, you think happily.

“yeah,” you nod quickly, “and suguru is hideous anyway. i’d never leave you for someone with a tacky man bun—”

“hey, leave my hair out of this—”

“it is pretty tacky,” satoru nods and agrees.

suguru crosses his arms, glaring at the both of you before he opens his mouth to retaliate. you cut in before he can say anything else to worsen satoru’s mood any further.

“and maybe you can help me—you’re smarter than suguru too.”

“he is not—”

“you’re right baby,” satoru hums, “maybe this is for the best. i’ll save both of your grades this way.”

suguru’s vein all but pops. “we don’t need your help—”

“don’t worry suguru,” satoru grins confidently, pointing to himself with his thumb, “i’ll save your grade. no need to thank me—ow!”

you watch tiredly as suguru throws your water bottle at satoru’s head—it’s going to be a long project.

i already know the switch boy! au people are gonna start the “suguru definitely wants reader” comments. i’m waiting for them i can sense them already

#teepods.writings #drabbles. #rich boy! au #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo fluff #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk fluff #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen fluff

[fantasylandloser]

marriage pact

summary: besties that plan to get married

warnings: smut, mdni, dry humping, idrk what else I should put here so message me and lmk, steve's happy trail, slutty steve, big dick steve

pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

A/n: This started off as one thing then it manifested into something else, and this is 4k words of idk and there MIGHT be a part 2

update here is part 2

****

Steve loved your slumber parties that had carried over from your childhood. Initially the two of you would binge watch movies, while his parents were who knows where. Up until you were about twelve he slept in the bed with you until one day your parents decided that he couldn’t do that anymore and gave him his own room for when he stayed over. 

Your family was well off due to your father being in business with his and it was probably no big deal for them, but Steve appreciated it nevertheless. He felt so loved in your home, so he made it his second. He was there at least three nights a week, until the two of you got into highschool and his dad wanted him to get serious about basketball. Then it was late night practices and meeting up with girls. He still came around at least once a week for dinners, but usually he was busy. 

You were surprised when he didn’t go away for college. Even more so when he decided to get his own job and start at the community college in Hawkins instead of living off his parents. Eventually he was back to being at your house all the time, until one day your mom randomly asked him to move in, suggesting that he was there all the time anyway. Which he agreed to with speed. So, now your slumber parties were more frequent, and more fun now that you were adults and your mom took away the rule that Steve couldn’t stay in your room.

Now your slumber parties included the two of you gossiping for hours on end about who was pregnant, talking through movies, and newly you doing Steve’s skincare. At first he tried to pretend that he didn’t like it, until one day you decided you didn’t feel like it and he begged you to do it anyway.

“Close your eyes.” You say from your position on his stomach, your thighs fitting snug on each side of him. One of his hands resting on each one. You didn’t need to be sitting on him of course, but Steve claimed it would be easier on your back if he were laying down (which was not true) but you went along with it because it was Steve.

“So bossy.” He murmurs but closes his eyes nonetheless, his fingers messing with the hem of your shorts. You hum in acknowledgement not really able to focus on the task at hand. 

“Is this new?” Steve asks, referring to the cool goopy substance that you were putting on his face.

“Yeah, I’m testing it on you before I put it on my face.” You say jokingly. But not really, considering that's what you were actually doing.

The snort Steve lets out brings a smile to your face. “Well, I’ve been your test dummy since we were kids so I’m not surprised.” 

“Glad that you finally accepted the dynamic of this friendship. Now stop talking.” He huffs at the command but still listens anyway, a small smile resting on his face,that you could never ask him to wipe away. Your brain short circuits a bit when he pulls his hand back to the center of your thigh, his thumb continuously rubbing over the smooth skin. You couldn’t help but wonder when that got added to the dynamic of your friendship. 

“Now sit with that for ten minutes.” You could see him getting ready to protest so you quickly added, “and be still!” You know he’s gonna bitch about it when you go to take the mask off. He hates sitting still more than anything but he could deal for ten minutes.

When he feels the pressure from your body weight pressing into his stomach start to lighten, his hands finding your waist even with his eyes closed.

“Steve.” You huff, knowing he’s not going to let you move until he can, but it’s not like you actually put up a fight. Not like you actually wanted to be away from his warmth. So you stayed simply sitting on him for ten minutes. Watching him, thinking about how he was still so pretty even with the mask on his face.

When it was time for you to take it off. You almost didn’t want to, but you did , pleased to see that the product left him glowing. 

Steve finally opened his eyes after almost falling asleep when he heard you sigh sweetly. “All done?” He asks hoping that you weren’t even though he’d been laying there for about thirty minutes.  

“Yep.” You say until you remember the little gift you picked up for him at the store. “Wait one more thing.” Steve lets you get off him this time, a little hesitant but you don’t point it out. 

When you come back with what looked like a broken whisk, Steve was a little reluctant. “I think this is where my test dummy days end.” You roll your eyes at his dramatics sliding back to your spot on his stomach.

“You’ll like it.” You tell him. Despite the growing anticipation about whatever the device was, Steve is quick to accept you and it into his space, his hands on your hips to steady you as you sit down. 

“I doubt- fuckkk.” Steve moans raggedly, cutting himself off and surprising you, making you stop your movements with the hair massager. You catch your composure quickly though, continuing to massage his scalp.

“So dramatic.” You try to tease, to lighten the heavy feeling in the pit of your stomach. You knew Steve had a thing for getting his hair pulled. He hooked up with half the girls in your class, so his likes and dislikes tended to get around and made for some pretty interesting lunch room conversations.

You didn’t realize a scalp massage would elicit the same reaction. You also didn’t realize that his reaction would have an effect on you. His whole body seemed to glitch. HIs eyes are barely able to stay open and the grip on your hips tightening.

Once his initial dramatics calmed down, he began letting out soft appreciative sighs. His grip on you fades to soft circles on your thighs.

“I’m gonna marry you.” He tells you, with his eyes closed. You knew he meant it. He told you that he wanted to marry you one day in high school. He’d been drunk but he let you all the way in on his plan to make a life with you, one day when you’re both ready.

He told you how he thought about building a house for you, and having your last name be harrington and how he wanted to have a bunch of kids with you. You thought he’d been joking teasing him about it the next day, but he simply smiled at you with a blush forming on his cheeks telling you that he meant it.

Ever since then, every couple of months he’d say it again. Like he was reminding you, or really asking you to wait for him. Which you did. Neither of you had made much of a move or anything and sometimes one of you would date  someone else, but in the back of your mind you would always remember that you were marrying Steve and that’s just the way it was.

“Mhmm.” You hum, simply acknowledging like usual. To your surprise Steve's eyes open and he zeroes in on your face. 

“I’m serious.” He’d never done this before, made more room for conversation about it. He seemed like he wanted more than gentle acknowledgment.

“I know.” You say, pretending to busy yourself as you set the massager to the side, just to get away from the intense way he’s looking at you. When he sits up on the headboard you know he means business. You never guessed now would be the time you finally actually talked about it.

“Do you really?” He asks. Steve didn’t know if you knew how serious he was.

“Yeah.. we’re getting married.” You tell him, fidgeting with one of his hands in your, absently looking at his nails instead of him. “You’re gonna build me a two story house, two streets away from my moms. In that field we used to play in. And we’re gonna have six babies and I will not let you help me name any of them because I already have a list.” You catch a quick glimpse of his face. “I remember.” You tell him. 

You expect him to let it go now that you’ve rehashed the entire plan he layed out for you years ago. You don’t remember when you got so attached to the idea. Or when you started contributing your own dreams to the plan but it had grown for you and speaking it out loud you realized how badly you needed it to happen.

“You have a list?” Steve’s chest was warm as it dawned on him that you wanted a future with him the same way he did with you.

Your face warmed, embarrassed thinking that he would tease you. “Yes. They’re all non negotiable.”

“Can I see it?” He asks, his voice soft. “Please, honey.” Honey. This is no longer best friend Steve. This is future husband Steve, making his first ever appearance. 

When you shake your head with a shy smile, Steve can’t help but smile back.”Why not?” He asks you in that same soft voice that had you feeling gooey on the inside. 

“Stop using that voice.” You whisper, feeling flushed. Steve couldn’t help but chuckle. He’d never known you to be shy, but here you were being all bossy while hiding your face in his neck. 

“You’re so perfect.” He’s teasing you, trying to see how embarrassed you’ll get. He also means every bit. “Prettiest girl in the world.”

“You’re bein’ weird.” You tell him unsure what to do with yourself with all these changes being made so quickly.  

“It was weird not telling you how beautiful you are everyday.” You don’t expect him to keep listing. “So sweet, too.” He adds. “Always taking care of me and never letting me praise you for it. I can’t wait to take care of you.” The implications of that do not go over your head. “Bet you’ll be such a good little wife.” 

Steve expects you to make some little quip or try to play off how embarrassed you feel. He’s expecting you to descelate how quickly he’s moving. But instead your voice whispers “I hope so.” You’re right in his ear too, so he knows he isn’t mistaken and he knows that this is the last night you’ll ever consider yourself just friends.

*****

Steve should have kissed you last night. He can’t help but think about that over and over, as he realizes he didn’t seal the deal. He should have done something to prove to you how serious he was. 

But it was too late because he didn’t kiss you and the morning had been decidedly awkward when you realized you didn’t know what any of that meant for your immediate friendship. Because initially the plan had been to wait. Was the wait over? Did you want it to be over? You spent the majority of your day trying not to think about it. Steve however wouldn’t shut up about it. Sadly for Robin she had to be on the receiving end of this conversation.

“Robin, this is serious. What if I fucked everything up? What if she thinks I’m leading her on?” Steve runs a hand through his hair, seemingly deep in thought. 

“I doubt that. I mean you’re planning on marrying her- which I take offense to not knowing about this little pact or whatever,” she adds. “But that’s like the total opposite of leading on.” She tries to reassure wanting to really get Steve to shut up about it.

“No you don’t get it-” Steve starts again, only to be interrupted. 

“Ughhhh!! How can I not get it if this is your sixth time going over it? Steve, I get it! You’re overthinking this when it’s really simple.” Robin gestures. “You love her and you want to get married and blah blah blah, but before you guys get married how about you try to, I don’t know actually date?” She says sarcastically. “Unless you were just going to propose after a thousand years of sleepovers and dating other people.” She adds. 

And although it was unnecessarily sassy, Steve realized that Robin might have a point. “So I should ask her out?” He tries to clarify much to Robin’s dismay. Luckily for her the door opening saved her from another round of easily answered questions. And even more lucky for her it was you and not an actual customer.

“Hey what are you-” Steve was cut off by you taking his hand and dragging him to where you knew the break room was after bringing him lunch on multiple occasions. You had tried and failed to not think about this whole situation. 

The one thing that had been bothering you the most is how long it was taking. You realized it was because you let Steve call the shots, and you quickly remembered why you never let Steve call the shots. Steve took too long to make decisions and well you knew what you wanted. So you had always been the leader in your friendship, deciding what movies you’d watch, what games you’d play, the parties you would go to. Everything really. You could do that here too, you realized. 

When you close the door behind you Steve is looking at you expectantly. He’s half thinking that you’re gonna cuss him out, so he doesn’t expect it when you grab him by his shirt to kiss him. You’re all over him for about five seconds. Your scent. Your taste. Your skin. Your hair. Then you’re gone. Patting his shirt back in place, shakily. You’re nervous. Steve realizes. 

“Okay that was all-” Steve’s pulling you back to him before you can run off. Letting his lips capture yours just the way he’d dreamed of. Feeling you relax into him as he cradles your face.

“So sweet.” He murmurs against your lips. He finds it amusing how the words send you back into your shyness from last night. The way you went from determined to timid and unable to even look at him properly. Steve was curious about this side of you. You were never this easily flustered.

“When did you get so shy?” He asks and you know he’s taunting you. He’s still holding you close to him, his fingers messing with the ends of your hair as he tries to find any reason to keep touching you. 

“M’not.” You oppose half-heartedly. He lets out a gentle sound of acknowledgment, obviously ignoring you, and knowing he would press all those buttons later. Privately. 

“You’re so beautiful.” You think he’s still teasing you and you hate that it's working when you feel your face heat up and you’re hiding it in his chest. Steve really means it though, it was the first thought that came to his head when he saw you walking through the door. Your hair free and your face without makeup. A skirt that your mom would deem a few inches too short and a shirt that he’s seen a million times because you love it so much. 

Gathering your courage, you finally look at him. His kiss swollen lips are the first thing that grabs your attention the second is the way he’s looking at you. Like he’s waiting on you to call the next shot. 

“Will Robin be okay, if we go to your car?” The next few moments are a blur because now he’s the one dragging you out of the breakroom, pausing only long enough for Steve to beg Robin to cover for him. Which she agreed to with a poorly concealed smirk on her face.

You were expecting Steve to open the back door and usher you inside. Instead he opens the driver side and pats his lap expectantly, after moving his seat all the way back. When you hesitate he’s grabbing you by your thighs and maneuvering you to where he wants you. “What if someone sees us?” You ask, knowing how fast information like this whipped around town. 

“Nobody parks on this side, honey.” Steve tells you those big puppy dog eyes staring into you. And because he’s Steve, and he’s calling you honey, and you trust him more than anyone you know, you believe him. 

“Okay.” Is all you say before your lips are back on Steve’s. It was a sweet kiss really, and Steve tried to let you control it for a while, until you were trying to back away from him again. With his experienced lips working over yours, you’re so consumed you barely realize the way you’re grinding yourself over his lap. Well not until his hands are on your ass, pushing your skirt up and controlling your once sloppy movement.

“There you go, sweetheart.” He says breathlessly, when he finally comes up for air. His lips find purchase against your neck. He kisses his way up the slope of it, relishing in the sound of your little gasps, until one particular spot sends a shudder down your spine. He sucks that spot. 

Absent-mindedly, your hands find their way off his shoulders and into his hair, barely thinking about it twice before you rake your nails across his scalp softly. The soft hum he lets out gives you indication that you should continue. Your hands stay in his hair for a bit, and you’re too nervous to actually pull it, but it does get you thinking about the other places on his body he has hair. Namely his happy trail. It sat perfectly right in between his abs and you usually had to avoid looking for your own sake. 

You’re yanking his shirt out of his jeans before you give it much more thought. And even though you’re too busy humping Steve to get a good look, feeling it against your bare hands has you whimpering. 

“Stevie-” You’re cut off by your own moan as your clit catches perfectly against Steve’s zipper. It doesn’t get past Steve that you sound so fucked out. Your tone bordering on a whine, clearly frustrated.

“Look at you.” Steve coos. “Doin’ such a good job for me, sweet girl.” Pressing a light kiss to your lips. Steve couldn’t help watching you chase your own pleasure, shivering at his praise.. Your eyes pinched shut, but your hands are all over him like you know every part of his body. 

“Can you open your eyes for me?” He asks with his hands pushing your hair out your face. When you do, he admires how dazed you look. How you probably barely remember your own name. “There she is.” Steve knew he was about two seconds from coming in his pants. He was also aware of the fact that once you were done with him he’d have to go back inside to finish working his shift.

“Stevie” You start again, “M’so close. Feels so good.” You tell him, your movements becoming frantic causing your boobs to sway deliciously. You don’t register your top being pulled down, until you feel Steve licking at your nipple.

A hungry groan rising from the back of his throat. “Perfect fucking tits.” His hands leave your ass, leaving the pace to you. He pinches your right nipple between his thumb and forefinger, rolling it to test your reaction. When you lurch into him. Humping him harder than before, he knows he’s a goner. But you are first. Your orgasm hits you so fast, it surprises you with tears springing to your eyes at the intensity. 

Steve’s a close second behind you, leaving the two of you panting and trying to catch your breath. As soon as Steve recovers he’s tending to you, pulling your top back in place, trying to see how you felt. 

He can’t help but admire that after that you went right back to your embarrassed state, obviously self conscious. “You’re perfect.” He tells you again, pressing another light kiss to your lips. When you grin at him, his heart beats fast and he can’t help but be happy at the line the two of you just crossed. 

“You too.” You say, your head is still a bit fuzzy as you check the damage. You’re about to launch into an apology about the obvious wet spot on Steve jeans but he beats you to it. “Stop worrying.” He’d been watching the spot form as time went on and kept willing it to get bigger. Liked that you were making a mess all over him and yourself too. 

“You have to go back to work.” You state, guiltily. 

“I have an extra pair of pants in the backseat, sweetheart. We’re all good.” You’re relieved for a number of reasons, climbing off him into the passenger seat. You don’t know what you were expecting but you realized it wasn’t him yanking his pants off, revealing his now cum stained gray boxers. And you certainly weren’t expecting him to drag the boxers off as well, which revealed his huge fucking dick. The tip is now sloppy and slightly red, and you can tell it isn’t as hard as it was.

“Oh fuck.” You say barely recognizing your own voice. Only to repeat yourself when he uses his sullied boxers to wipe the rest of the cum off, watching it twitch from the stimulation.

“He doesn’t like to be stared at, ya know.” Steve teases you, reaching back for his jeans. 

Your eyes keep flickering back to his face and back to his dick, and you know there’s no way he’s been carrying that around for the entirety of your friendship and you simply had no idea.

“Steve.” You say dumbfounded. No words available to express your shock, as he pulled his pants on to cover himself.

“No more ‘Stevie’?” He asks, mocking you. The smile on his face tells you he’s just messing with you but you can’t help your cheeks going up in flames.

“You’re the worst.” You huff, but you’re still smiling despite your embarrassment. 

“Mhm.” He’s reaching over the console to kiss you again, this time sweet and chaste. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll stretch you open for me, before I fuck you, sweetheart.” You gasp feeling his hand on the band of your underwear.

“Lift up for me.” You do, allowing him to pull the drenched fabric off of you, you hide your face in your hands when he lifts it to his face to sniff. You were quickly coming to the realization that your best friend was dirtier than you ever realized, even with all the gossip that got back to you.

You feel yourself manage to flush even further when he murmurs to himself “sweetest fucking girl” he stuffing them in his pocket in the next second, then reaching back over for you when his phone lights up. 

Robin’s name lighting up the screen. He huffs a little as he reads the text and you know she’s getting snappy. 

“Come on, let's go before Robin kills you.”  There’s no use in asking for your underwear back so you just pull your skirt down as far as it will go before stepping out the car, trying to ignore the slickness of your thighs. After Steve walks you to your car, he presses a kiss to your forehead, stating that you’ll talk later. 

When he walks back into Family Video he looks disheveled, a completely new pair of pants, his shirt no longer tucked and wrinkled, but Robin is relieved to know that she won’t have to answer anymore stupid questions from him.So she leaves him be for the moment, but he definitely owes her big time. 

#steve harrington smut #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington #smut #fantasylandloserfic