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just-another-blog-of-fluff · 6 months

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Hangry

Word count: ~2,000

Pairing: Steve x reader and Bucky (platonic), no pronouns used

Warnings: Just a lot of fluff. Mild cursing.

It's been a year and a half since my last posted works! I'm VERY out of practice 😅 I'm trying to work on some smaller prompts on my list while I get myself back into writing and continue working on the Loki blip in the universe prompt. It's not my best, but I hope you enjoy in any case!

This was based on a Prompt for Steve x reader as well as a prompt where reader and Bucky bug Steve while he's making a public appearance.

“Tell us, Captain, sir - how did the Avengers manage to track down the villain’s hideout this time?”

“Well, good sir - we have state-of-the-art technology that allows us to track electronic signals from thousands of miles away…”

“Ugh, he is such a ham!” you muttered to Bucky under your breath as you observed Steve from a distance. “We’re never going to make it to the store if he keeps stopping every time a reporter tries to chat him up!”

“Steve can’t resist bragging about us,” Bucky chided, nudging you with his elbow.

“Yeah, well… some of us are hungry!”

You huffed and folded your arms across your chest in annoyance, trying to catch the reporter’s eye with your scowling face, but she was far too enamored by the star-spangled captain to pay you any mind. How had a simple grocery run for ice cream turned into a twenty-minute interview with the press??

“I swear, I’m gonna go drag him away from that reporter by the ear if he doesn’t stop talking in the next 60 seconds,” you grumbled.

“Why do that when we can mess with him instead?”

You turned to look at Bucky, who had a mischievous gleam in his eyes.

“Go on…”

He smirked, shooting you a wink. “Watch and learn.”

You watched silently as Bucky meandered casually toward where Steve stood speaking with the reporter and her photographer. Steve was none the wiser to his friend approaching from behind.

“… but the serum isn’t the only thing that makes us heroes. It takes a whole load of grit and determina-HAY-tion-!”

Steve flinched as his best friend subtly reached up and pinched his side mid-sentence, effectively silencing him. The captain recovered quickly, though, chuckling nonchalantly as he flashed Bucky a look. He continued on with his sentence after that, refusing to acknowledge what just happened.

“Wait - Steve is ticklish??” you whispered incredulously as Bucky returned to your side.

“Very. Why does that surprise you?”

“I don’t know, I guess I just assumed the serum eliminated weaknesses like that.”

Bucky chuckled. “Nah - if anything it made it worse.”

“Oh-ho, I’ve got to try this for myself!”

You quietly paced up behind the blabbing soldier, pretending you were casually walking past to avoid drawing attention from passerby. As you stepped by him, you reached out and swiftly dug your fingertips into his ribs for less than a second. Steve choked on his words and whipped his head around instinctively. You ducked out of his field of vision and prodded his other side.

“Excuse me,” Steve requested politely, turning around as nonchalantly as possible to find you standing behind him with a guilty grin on your face. “Can I help you?”

“I just came to remind you that we have somewhere we have to be,” you stated sweetly.

“Yes, but it isn’t urgent,” he muttered.

“Oh, I think you’ll find it to be very urgent, actually,” you whispered, shooting him a cheeky wink. With a long, drawn-out sigh, Steve turned to the reporter.

“My apologies, ma’am. Duty calls.”

You saw Bucky clap a hand over his mouth and nose to cover the snort that burst from his nares. Trying hard not to openly roll your eyes in front of the reporter, you nodded in the direction of the grocery store and began marching purposefully toward your destination, with Steve following in your wake.

“You two are infuriating,” Steve grumbled once you were out of earshot from the reporter.

“Excuse me - I just want to go get my ice cream and head back home to eat it,” you countered. “You’re the one who decided to schmooze with the first person who asked you about your superpowers.”

“I’m just trying to maintain good public relations. Maybe you should try it sometime.”

“Ugh, no. I hate talking about myself.”

The three of you bickered amicably the entire way to the store. It hadn’t ended by the time you’d made it back to the tower kitchen and dropped your grocery bags on the counter.

“I’m just saying - it wouldn’t kill you to wear a hat or something to hide your face from reporters when we’re just trying to go to the store,” you griped, shrugging your sweatshirt off your shoulders and hanging it on the back of one of the kitchen stools.

“It wouldn’t kill you to try to be friendly to strangers every once in a while,” Steve retorted.

“Excuse me - I am a very friendly person! I’m just selective about it.”

“Friendly as an angry porcupine, sure.”

You gasped indignantly. “Are you saying I’m sharp with people??”

“You’re just a little… prickly.”

“Ooh, now that’s an insult,” Bucky hummed sarcastically.

“You’re just as bad, you know. Forget porcupines - you’re like a venomous sea urchin or something,” Steve shot back at his friend. You snorted.

“Steve… you’ve really got to work on your teasing skills,” you chuckled. “A ‘sea urchin?’ Really?”

“I could just take your ice cream”

You narrowed your eyes. “Don’t you dare.”

Steve held your gaze for a moment, eyes darting briefly to the bag on the counter between you with the ice cream inside. You lunged for the bag handle, but Steve predicted your move, snatching it out of your reach before you could get a hand on it.

“Damnit, Steve!! Give it back!” you whined, rounding the counter to swipe for the grocery bag. He turned his back to you, maintaining a barrier between you and the prize. “Bucky! Help me out here!”

“Nah, this is pretty funny to watch,” Bucky chuckled, snickering as you swatted at Steve’s arm.

“Yeah but your ice cream is in there too!”

Bucky sighed. “You make a fair point. Steve, buddy, give it back.”

Steve snorted. “You’ve been just as much a pain in my rear today! Why would I give it back to you either?”

You gasped dramatically, catching Bucky’s eye. “Are you gonna let him talk to you like that?”

“‘Course not!”

Without warning, Bucky lunged at his super soldier friend, tackling him to the floor. The bag of ice cream slipped from Steve’s grasp in his surprise, which you quickly snatched up before he could regain the wherewithal to take it back. With a triumphant shout, you tore the cover off your pint of ice cream and dug a spoon out of the drawer, swiping a scoop off the top layer and shoving it in your mouth with a contented sigh.

“Mm… finawwy,” you mumbled with your mouth full. Swallowing, you pointed your spoon accusatorially at Steve where he was currently trying to shove Bucky off himself. “You know, you’ve been a pain in my rear all day. You deserved this - it’s nice to see someone teaching you a lesson.”

“You two are pains in my rear every day!” Steve huffed as he grasped at Bucky’s shoulders and pushed.

“You did not just say that!” you gasped dramatically.

“Yeah, how dare you!” Bucky added, pinching at Steve’s side for emphasis.

“Bahah- Bucky, don’t start this,” Steve warned as he grasped his friend’s wrists to still his hands.

“Ooh! Wait!” You set your ice cream and spoon down on the counter beside you. “I want a go! Bucky, hold him there for a minute.”

“Whahat??” Steve laughed in surprise, a nervous edge to his voice.

“Sure!” Bucky offered, ignoring his friend’s protests as he maneuvered his wrists from Steve’s grasp and swiftly pinned his arms to the floor a few inches from his sides. “Quick, before he gets free!”

"On it!" You crouched down beside the super soldiers as Steve tugged against Bucky's grip. Without waiting to listen to Steve's protests any further, you began to scribble your fingertips into his exposed sides and ribs rapidly. You heard a thump behind you as Steve kicked his heel against the floor in protest, now pulling more frantically to escape his best friend's hold.

"HA-HEHEY! Cut it ohout!!"

"Nah. I deserve a little reward for tolerating you all day," you snickered, prodding at his belly. "Hey, Buck - where should I get him next?"

"Ohh, definitely under his arms," he suggested with a smirk. You pinched your way up his ribcage before slotting your hands into the narrow space between his biceps and his upper ribs. Bucky adjusted his grip to pry his friend's arms away from his sides as he attempted to clamp them down to limit the space under his arms.

"BUCKY!! Let me go-HO-HO this I-HI-INSTANT!" Steve demanded.

"No can do, buddy. I'm enjoying watching you get taken down a peg."

"DAHAMNIT BAHARNES!!"

"Oof, language Steve!" you teased, digging your fingers into the soft spot under his arms. "Where else is he ticklish?"

"The spot on his stomach right under his ribs - that'll really get him good." Steve nearly managed to slip his wrist from Bucky's grasp, but he quickly shifted his grip once again. "Better do it quick - I can't hold him much longer."

"Say no more." You pulled your hands free from under Steve's arms and danced your fingertips across the muscle-clad skin of his abdomen just under his ribcage as Bucky suggested. He threw his head back with a heavy stream of laughter at your touch, arching his back against the floor in desperation. It was only another moment before he finally succeeded in escaping Bucky's grasp.

Steve sat up swiftly, a playful but menacing gleam in his eye as his gaze immediately landed on you.

"Oh-ho, shit!" You scrambled to get to your feet to make your escape, groaning defeatedly when you felt a strong set of arms wrap around your waist and yank you backward.

“You really think I’d let you get away with that?” Steve asked rhetorically as he tightened his arms around your midsection to hold you in place.

“W-wait, Steve, we can- ahaha nohoho!” Your protests were cut short as Steve’s fingers kneaded into your sides. “Bucky! Hehehelp!!”

“Nuh-uh. You’re on your own, my friend.” The infuriatingly unhelpful super soldier waltzed over to the counter to retrieve his ice cream, planting himself atop the countertop and digging in while observing the two of you wrestling on the floor below.

“USELEHESS!!” you cried, attempting futilely to pry Steve’s hands off your sides.

“Nice try. You should know better than to mess with me by now,” Steve teased. He loosened his grip slightly to scratch at your belly. A rumbling laugh erupted in his chest when you screeched in protest and doubled over, suddenly much more frantic. “Oh, what’s this?”

“DAHAMNIT STE-HEE-HEVE!” Your grip on his hands was far too weak to even budge them now - not that you’d had any hope of succeeding before your muscles had weakened from his tickling. You leaned more heavily into him as you succumbed to laughter. He responded by lowering you down to lay on the floor beside him, freeing both hands to dart randomly around your sides and stomach. Weakly, you tapped your palm on the floor beside you in surrender. Steve threw in a few more exceedingly ticklish light scratches along your belly before relenting in his revenge.

“That’ll teach you,” he teased with a grin, offering you a hand to help you off the ground. You grasped your abdominal muscles that were now aching from laughter.

“I-hi… I’ll probably still mess with you,” you admitted breathlessly. Steve made a noise of protest in his throat and reached over to pinch your side, but you swatted his hand away. “Noho more! You’ll kill me!”

“So dramatic.” He rolled his eyes. “Here - here’s your ice cream. Hope it melted while you were tormenting me.”

“Harsh!” You snatched it from his hand and stuck out your tongue, then turned to look at Bucky. "And you - you were zero help, thank you."

"Hey! I held him down for you! I was very helpful, in my personal opinion."

The three of you went right back to your friendly bickering session, as though nothing had happened. Any outside might wonder how you could all be friends, but you wouldn't have it any other way.

#steve rogers x gn!reader #steve rogers x reader #bucky x reader #ticklish!reader #ticklish!steve

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eddiessluttywaist · 2 years

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as if (part 3)

AGELESS/BLANK/UNDER 18 BLOGS ARE NOT WELCOME TO INTERACT. PLEASE RESPECT MY RULES AND BOUNDARIES

summary: reader isn’t keen to playing the usual games between her and eddie after how she felt sunday night, and eddie can’t stand losing her attention. PICK WHAT ENDING YOU WANT AFTER.

pairing: bully!mean!perv!eddie munson x perv!fem reader

word count: 8,704 words (9,272 total words with the fluffy ending, 9,516 total words with the angsty ending)

content/warnings: swearing, SMUT MDNI (y/n is 18), bully!eddie, mean!eddie, perv!eddie, bully kink (?), dominating, breeding kink, mocking, teasing, biting, dacryphilia, groping, pet names (doll face, princess), degradation, some embarrassment, yearning, menophilia, angst :(((, feelings :(((, fluff(what? who said that?). i think that’s all pls tell me if i miss anything!

a/n: thank you for all the love :( i’m truly so surprised and grateful and just super flattered so thank you!! i hope i didn’t fuck this up by giving it crap endings sobs. i saw some were interested in a bit of a better look into eddie’s thoughts/feelings so i hope those lil parts are good! i’m considering the occasional blurb in the future about them tho so 👀 OH ALSO!! the past week or so tumblr had a bug on their app that cut off the ends of my posts >:( so I’d appreciate it if you could look back to double check you caught the full ending so you get the proper experience! okay i’m shutting up now!

part one - part two

You weren’t as responsive to his teasing that Monday…or, well… just about the rest of the school week so far, for that matter. You blamed your mood drop on his indifference, and the cramping that you assumed was only from this weekend. You had been sure it was just your cervix making its opinions on Eddie known, but then—after your second sugar pill of the week—you got your period Wednesday night. This culprit seemingly just as likely for that aching in your lower abdomen and back. It was welcome evidence that your birth control was working, but the appreciation for its presence didn’t last long with all the cramping and the bleeding. You hated getting your period, no matter how many older women reminded you of your “connection to Mother Nature” and “the beauty of the womb.” It’s messy and painful and almost always broke out your face.

So no you aren’t playing Eddie’s usual games—instead going silent on him or answering in an empty murmur. Part of you worries it’s going to all build up to one particularly heinous act, but he surprisingly didn’t get worse. He only bothered you with the same old stuff more frequently. By Thursday he’s pestering you constantly with his teasing, and his grabbing, and honestly? Just about every trick in his sick little book which were usually tastefully sprinkled throughout the week.

“So you’re not talking to me? Playing hard to get or somethin’?” He whispers from behind you in the lunch line. You grab a saran-wrapped cookie and put it on your tray.

“What? You on your rag or something?” Eddie scoffs in response to your ever freezing cold shoulder. He’s out in the tundra these past couple of days. You make a face and continue moving through the line.

“Come on… don’t fuck me and forget me, babe. You’ll break this ol’ cynic’s heart and I’ll never recover.” He teases with a wide smile, hand placed over his heart before it drops to settle on the small of your back and gradually travel down to cup your ass. He’s pleasantly surprised that you’re not gently nudging him away like you had the last time he attempted his usual lunchtime groping, but something feels different. He glances down as he flips up your skirt only to reveal small shorts in the same pattern of your dark, plaid skirt. Your worst nightmare is bleeding through a light-colored pair of pants or skirt, so you always wear darker clothes on your period, and you trade skirts for skorts in favor of the added coverage.

“What the fuck is this shit?” He scowls, tugging at one leg of the shorts.

“It’s called a skort. We’ve had this conversation before.” You sigh, thanking the lunch lady as she hands you your tray and eyes the metalhead trailing behind you.

She thinks he resembles an abandoned puppy who grew mean and practiced his bite and his bark just to follow after you with his tail between his legs. If she had any genuine interest in connecting with the student body she fed 5 days out of the week, she might’ve made a playful joke about you having him whipped. But she didn’t care that much.

“I don’t think we have.” He grins, wondering if you even noticed you let yourself talk to him.

“You do it every time I’m on-“ You catch yourself almost admitting you were on your period, which would certainly only pull new harassment from him, so you pretend to correct a simple mistake. “In. Every time I’m in a skort.”

He hums disapprovingly.

“Yeah, well… I…” He trails off as you simply walk away from him to your usual spot in the cafeteria. You don’t bother to stay at his table you two reached just for him to finish making some crude joke before ultimately shooing you away anyway. “Okay… or be a bitch.”

He grumbles that last bit, landing into his usual spot at the head of the table. A few of the other Hellfire members are still staring even when he clearly takes notice.

“Can I help you?” He snaps, everyone who had been staring immediately looking down at their food. He huffs, adjusting his position in the chair to get more comfortable and lets his gaze move over to your table. You’re sat so pretty it’s like your image could actually advertise such a crappy plastic chair. The way your ankles are crossed underneath you, book cracked open on the table with all of your attention on it as you sat with your body leaned into the table. Your food was hardly touched due to a pang of nausea that he was completely unaware of.

“You know if you like her maybe you shouldn’t pick on her so much.”

Eddie grimaces at the comment that’s—in his opinion—beyond a disregard for his rank at this table, icy glare on the curly haired freshman. There are panicked faces and soft muttering around the table showing he isn’t the only one taken aback by this.

“I…” the boy falters, putting the spoonful of pudding he’s about to eat back down. “I just mean if… if you like her. I dunno… you’re kinda mean to her, Eddie.”

He eats his scoop of pudding now, his bold words inspiring the wiry one that always sits next to him. Eddie’s burning glance flits over to him now that he’s speaking, his expression remaining unimpressed with etches of frustration in the shadows of his facial features.

“Yeah, which is actually totally weird cause you’re not like that at all.” The brunet speaks in a rapid ramble like usual. “Like, you took me and Dustin and Lucas under your wing cause we were new and weird and alone and stuff like that—no, I know Lucas has been ditching Hellfire for the jocks, but anyway— you’re always talking back to those asshole jocks—which is totally cool—so I don’t get why you’re not like that with her.”

“I’m sorry, I must be confused.” The man spoke with sarcastic interest, a sinister smile breaking out onto his face. “Are you two talking to me? About something that is, quite frankly, none of your business?”

The two boys look at each other, the nerves shared between them tangible. Eddie raises a brow and tilts his head when they face him again. Still silence. Mike swallows anxiously.

“Well?” He sneers, flicking some of his trail mix at them.

“Sorry, Eddie…” They say in unison as he chews slowly, staring them down. He rolls his eyes as his body slowly relaxes again in his spot and he glances at you again. You were at least breaking off pieces of your cookie now, still reading your book.

“She’s not new or weird or alone anyways. She’s always with the smart kids.” He states, before holding up a hand as his gaze returns to the pair. “Not that I’m inviting you two shitheads to stick your noses in my business.”

The freshmen, along with a few others at the table shift to look over at you. You’re still engrossed in whatever you’re reading and you looked miserable, even if you were enjoying a good book. You look tired.

“Dude, literally no one is interacting with her. There’re the Jacobson twins talking at one end—probably still fighting over what’s the right answer to the equation from algebra class (it’s zero, by the way). Then there’s Richie and Greg from advanced calculus. Some people I don’t know…” Dustin mutters that last part before continuing, “And yes technically speaking there are a few girls sitting with her, but they’re not even talking. They probably don’t even know her.“

Eddie stares him down, the conversation still on you burning away at something inside him. He doesn’t want to talk about it. He doesn’t want to talk about you or how lonely you look. He doesn’t want to talk about inviting you over. And he certainly doesn’t want to talk about how mean he is to you, cause he has no interest in trying to break down the intricacies of the crossover between bullying you and fucking you. Especially to freshmen.

“Just saying.” Dustin finally sighs in defeat, clearly getting no response from the DM sat at the head of the table. “But seriously, tugging on a girl’s pigtails cause you like her is completely grade school.”

Eddie had figured that having sex would change things between you two, but he imagined it changing for the better. Things like fucking you in the janitor’s closet or in the back of his van in the parking lot. Feeling you up between classes. Being so fucking mean to you all day until you were all wet and needy for him by the time that final bell rang.

He certainly didn’t imagine this.

At the start of the school week, Eddie didn’t entirely notice your lack of participation. Just that something felt… off-kilter in your interactions. It had been on Tuesday night that he realized nothing felt right because you weren’t glaring at him or shoving him away or pouting up at him. You didn’t even turn your head when an object was flicked at you, you just kept your eyes on the chalkboard.

Now he isn’t particularly well known for his critical thinking with… well… anything other than music, DND, and—subsequently—the math that came along with both hobbies. And, of course, selling drugs. So it’s somewhat understandable that poor Eds didn’t even realize what caused the imbalance for a whole day or two. Once he realized it though, it only frustrated him further. It irritated him that you weren’t playing the game, and it irritated him that it bothered him so much in the first place.

Why aren’t you snapping back at him? Why are you ignoring him, and if you even do look over: why was it always with a sad glance? Why, when he toyed with your skirt on Monday did you tilt your head to the side and quietly ask him to please leave you alone? When he saw you first thing Monday morning with circles under your eyes that were barely disguised by drug store concealer; Why, when he leaned into you as he passed you in the hall with a quiet “Something keep you up last night?” Did you only give him a passing glance with lips pressed together in what might’ve been an attempt at a small smile just to fall flat with that dull look in your eyes.

Being how he is, his game plan had been to keep bugging you constantly. Wear you down until you were finally glaring or giggling or whining, and everything could be back to the way it was. Maybe you were just suddenly playing hard to get. Being a teasing brat who would eventually have a smirk sneak out so he knew you were toying with him, and he could make you pay for it later. That smirk never quirked up your lip though. You were still such a rainy cloud drifting through the school.

The little twerp got to him at lunch today, too. He wonders now if maybe you were sick of the way he acted, and realized you want deserve someone a little less inclined to pigtail-tugging and a little more open and romantic. But why now? He thought you enjoyed it all. That’s why he wasn’t expelled already. That’s why you fucked him and called him for more. Right? Sitting in his van instead of attending the last class of the day, Eddie rubs his hands over his face and lets out a frustrated groan. He feels something crucial missing in him at the fact that he’d rather pull teeth than drop down his smug and playful demeanor even for a second and show you that he’s yours.

He noticed you were pretty when you were a sophomore, but not much else. Now in your senior year with him, god—you aren’t even pretty. You’re fucking devastating, and he knows his methods of showing affection aren’t something that will stand the test of time. You’ll grow tired and fuck it, he’d be living up to that Munson name if he has to see you with someone else—probably wind up serving time right alongside Pops after leaving some guy in the hospital. So maybe there were tweaks to be had. Even if he’s bitter and reluctant about it. (And did I mention bitter?)

Eddie pulls his hands away from his face at the faint sound of a bell, letting the side of his head fall against the window with a solid thunk as he awaits the crowds of students rushing out of the school.

You’re passing by others on your way out of the building, just as relieved as everyone else to be going home for the day—not that your excitement showed. It’s more of a calm relief to be heading to your room again than everyone else’s bubbly enthusiasm to make plans for the rest of the day. (When they should be getting their assignments done after all it’s not Friday yet, you think, but maybe that’s just because you evidently have no life.)

Making your way through the parking lot, a loud horn makes you jump. Your eyes wild and your heart up in your throat, you look around until you spot Eddie laying on his horn with his tongue partially sticking out off to the side. He lets up the second you lock eyes and laughs.

“Need a ride? Gotta couple of good options.”

You huff, trying to ignore his filthy innuendo and shake your head. He groans, settling his head back against the head rest of his seat while you start walking away.

“What the fuck is your problem? Jesus fucking Christ!”

You keep walking, hearing his car door open and the sound of his sneakers on the pavement. His car buzzes irritably at its door being left open while running, but he doesn’t care. You’re sure he doesn’t care about anything, really. He rests a hand on your shoulder to turn you around.

“’m just not in the mood, Eddie.” You snap the second you’re facing him.

But you’re always in the mood, he wants to argue as if that made a difference right now. He lets out a long breath that puffs out his lips as he decompresses, arm bent up to rub his hand on the back of his neck. It’s evident that he’s not used to this, and doesn’t have a clue how to go about it. You eye him in that moment, waiting for him. Waiting for something that made that ache in your chest dissipate and the hole it leaves be filled with a light warmth. Then you’re ready to give up on waiting for something that clearly wasn’t going to happen when he suddenly dips down and drapes you over his shoulder all in one fluid motion.

“I- Eddie-!“

“I- Eddie- I-” He mimics, clearly out of habit and opens the back door to his van to plop you right on top of a random cushion nestled inside. It looks like it’s just a single couch cushion and you wonder where he got only one. Is it from an old couch that was getting tossed anyways? Did he steal it? Who steals a singular couch cushion from the seat of a sofa? And what was that stain on the corner? You’re shifting away from it as he climbs in after you, the tip of his tongue peeking out of the corner of his lips again until the door is shut and he’s settled against it with a sigh.

“Yoo-hoo.”

“What?”

He scratches his jaw as he looks over at you then points at the stain you were avoiding.

“Yoo-hoo. The drink. That’s what the stain is from.”

“Oh… okay.”

Eddie lets out a heavy sigh, his eyes going wide as he fights the urge to roll them while he stares up at the ceiling of his vehicle, and then he finally speaks up again.

“Why are you being all…” He gestures his hands out in a odd way, flopping them a bit before settling them on his legs again. He sighs, tilting his head down and looking over at you again. “I don’t fucking know… you’re not being fun this week.”

Your nostrils flare and your brow creases with a pulse of rage at his words.

“Oh I’m so sorry that I’m not playing your game, Eddie. For your information, yes—as you said so elegantly before— I’m ‘on my rag’ and don’t exactly feel like dealing with you.”

Despite the tone you’re taking with him, a grin is pulling at his face and a few laughs bubble from his chest that were almost like little amused giggles. God, he missed getting you all worked up.

“What? Never got it before?” He suddenly questions.

“I- What?”

He snickers.

“Your rag. The crimson tide. Never ridden the cotton pony before?” He’s having too much fun with this and your face is getting all hot.

“Cause I kinda doubt it. Y’know…” he gestures to your form, “The idea that you haven’t gone through puberty yet sounds fake to me, sweetheart.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Well you’ve never acted like this before so unless this is your first week of Carrie...” He hisses an inhale through his teeth.

“My condolences, but look at it this way: You’re finally a woma- hey!” He’s laughing until he’s dodging the random work boot you toss at him—the sight of him scooting away from the projectile actually getting a giggle from you.

“Those ‘r for the garage, doll. Heavy duty shit, can’t be throwing those.” He chastises as he waves the shoe at you, but there’s a weight that’s lifting from him. He got you to just sit and talk to him, and even made you laugh. Even if you’re biting the inside of your cheek now to try and refrain from giving him the satisfaction of your smile. How are things like this right now? Shouldn’t he be bending you over his knee for not acting the way he wanted you to? Shouldn’t he be angry? Shouldn’t he be making you cry?

“I’ve gotten my period before.” You state simply. Eddie puts the boot down, dropping his head back against the interior of his van as he looks at you expectantly.

“Then what? What’s with the bitching and the ignoring and the crybaby shit?” He asks bluntly, making your brow furrow again.

“And not even the good crybaby shit,” he continues in a softer tone as he makes his way over to you, “Where’s my pouty girl, huh? Where’s my brat?”

My. My. It’s making your head swirl, his words and proximity putting up a good fight against this latest impulse to be cold to him. He’s settled in front of you and pulling you forward by your hips.

“Don’t wanna talk about it…” You murmur because he should know. He should’ve automatically known the second he left your room that he fucked up when he didn’t kiss you.

“No? Do I gotta bully it out of you, baby? Should I keep up with what I’ve been doing or are you gonna keep pissing me off with that silent treatment shit if I do?”

Watching your expression, his hands settled on your hips start to massage his fingertips in small circles against your lower back. A sigh falls from your lips before you can even stop it, melting from his touch. He’s massaging that spot that’s been tied up in knots the past couple of days, and taking care of it perfectly. Just when you think he’s suddenly a completely different person he stops the movements entirely. That familiar pout that he loves pulls at your lower lip, clearly disappointed by the loss of his kneading.

“Gonna tell me?” He coos, tilting his head.

Your lips part then close again, faltering on if you should just tell him. He mimics the motion then your pout before grinning at you again. You stay quiet, a new conflict arising inside your head. Should you just tell him and move forward? Should you let him suffer until he figures it out? He deserves to suffer in your book, but who knows how long it would take for him to realize. The man has failed his senior year twice already.

“No? Okay, doll.” He’s separating himself from you now, moving to a corner of his van to start digging through some random stacks and piles there.

He’s going on about how he’d help if he could, but he guessed that won’t happen now. How if only you’d cut lil’ ol’ him a break. His theatrical and bitter words are coated in a soft tone and playful, exaggerated sighs. He’s having all the fun in the world trying to tease you until you just sigh and admit whatever your major malfunction is. It’s lighthearted in comparison to his usual teasing, but even this starts bringing the tears forward.

You hate that he doesn’t know. That it clearly didn’t mean enough for him to notice. You hate that he pulls you in all smooth and sweet to get you intoxicated on him just for him to laugh over it and leave you alone again. You hate how he’s suddenly making you feel cared for just for him to go away again cause he isn’t getting what he wants. Now you’re desperately trying to hide the fact that you’re crying as all of your feelings and aches and pains of this week rush through you.

Sure, he’s seen you cry before but it was never like this. It was teary eyes from frustration or, recently, the occasional sob from how good he made you feel. It’s never been breaking down after a hard week. It’s never sobbing because after all this time the two of you finally cracked, and you’re scared you’re the only one increasingly enchanted every passing second since that first kiss. It was never hiccuping sobs that you were doing your best to push down. Your face is burning, your sight blurry even though tears kept rolling down your cheeks. It’s like there’s a never ending supply to stream down your face and still keep your vision bleary.

“Jus’ sayin’ we could be doing something way more fun right no…w…” He trails off once he finally looks over at you.

He’s holding an unopened pack of cigarettes he had been looking for in his typical mess and pulling out his lighter, but now all his focus is on the way you’re sniffling and shaking. You’re still sat on that cushion, knees up and a hand settled over your mouth with your head turned away from him. A heart-wrenching sob just barely sneaks its way out before you choke it back down. Little huffs are escaping you in a desperate attempt to breathe without letting your need to wail break free. It feels like your lungs are on fire.

“Y/N…” Eddie says in a tender voice that you didn’t think he was even capable of. You shake your head.

“Y/n c’mon…” He tries again with a small, nervous laugh. Nervous you were serious. Nervous that he really made you so upset. Nervous to really show that he cares if he did.

“It’s okay, really-“ Your voice is higher than usual, another heavy breath puffing out before you try to drag it in again just to end up whimpering as another wave of sadness comes over you and you’re too overwhelmed to hold it in. You stay facing away from him as you cry and hiccup, trying to get it back under control.

“I just- it’s stupid, it’s n-ot that big of a deal.”

For Eddie, making you cry is all about the glossy eyes and pouty lips as you stare up at him defiantly or a sign that you need him to quit playing games and fuck you. It’s never been this… brutal. Panic continues to rise in his system, and he’s unsure of how to handle the situation. Once upon a time, he thought he treated you the way that he did because some sadistic part of him liked to always make you hurt, but it was becoming evident that he just liked the play. The banter. The shoving and the glaring and pouting and the wandering eyes. When he acted the way he always did and you didn’t respond or did so in a quiet plea for him to really stop or really cried—it made his stomach clench. The more he tried to keep it up this week the more he realized that when you weren’t playing along he just… he was just mean. Really mean. Not “you’re so awful, just fuck me already” mean, but “you’re making me miserable” mean. And fuck if he didn’t hate the way that felt.

“Is it really that bad?” He murmurs, partially surprised by his own voice when it sounded this gentle. The thin plastic around his cigarettes crinkle under his nervous hands. And he thought he needed a smoke before. “Did I hurt you? Or-or somethin’? Do you need to go to a doctor?”

“No.” You weep, still refusing to look at him and it’s killing him even if a part of him knows he would crumble if he sees how you look right now. God, he hated this. The vulnerability of caring openly and to this extent, but what else could he do? Double down on his usual behavior and kick you while you were already so down you might as well have been sinking into the pavement?

“Y/N, please-“ He tries again and you crack completely.

“It’s just not fair because I thought I wanted this, but it’s to-oo hard. You don’t care enough to stick around. Y-You don’t check in with me. You’ve pushed me around for the past two years and I’m an idiot who thought it was all lighthe-hearted deep down, a-and that you wanted me too.”

You break down into tears again until you put yourself back together just enough so it’s only the constant sniffling and your voice trembling that’s interrupting you. All Eddie can do is stare at you with big brown eyes like saucers while you babble, his brow frowning as he anxiously picks at his fingernails and the skin around them.

“A-And of course I got my fucking period cause why wouldn’t I? Cause why would I catch a break? N-N my body aches and I’m so tired and you… you couldn’t… you didn’t…”

“What?” He’s shuffling a bit closer now, lowering his face like he always did to catch your attention. He was right that seeing your face like this would cave him in, and he wishes he could be dropped into a black hole. He knew he deserved it. At the sight of your current state, he was pulling that smoke he already had his fingertips on and placing it between his lips. He lights it and inhales deeply before letting his hand drop down, cig between his fore and middle fingers, ring finger toying with a tear in his jeans.

“You…” You let out a breath before dropping your gaze to your hands in your lap, tears still slipping down your cheeks and over your jaw to wet your neck and dampen the collar of your top or drop down and land on that skort he hated. “You wouldn’t even kiss me on Sunday…”

You sound horribly deflated at the admission, and his eyes flicker all over your features before the smallest twitches of the corners of his lips start to tug them up even though his eyes hold a sad sort of infatuation within them.

“You kissed me on Friday, but not once on Sunday. And you didn’t even seem to care…” You mumble, glancing over at him once and then twice when you notice the curve of his lips. Your eyes burn with a potential for new tears. “Are you fucking smiling?”

“No—no, well, yeah. Not like that.” He huffs out an anxious laugh. “I just… you ignored me… cause I didn’t give you a kiss..?”

You scoff, lips parted and gaze furious. He is unbelievable.

“Among other things! I-I… ugh! You’re infuriating!” You announce and his brows shoot up, grin widening with interest and he brings his cigarette back to his lips.

“You… you make fun of me constantly. You fuck me and finish in me and don’t even spend time with me after. The least you can do is kiss me. Or… or…” You huff, which was becoming a theme today.

He can’t help but find you cute when you’re angry. You remind him of that temperamental pixie in that old animated Peter Pan film from the ‘50s. He used to babysit a young girl in the trailer park who watched it constantly (much to his chagrin).

“Or you don’t get to have me anymore.” You conclude, and he just keeps staring at you with wild eyes as he smokes.

Your anxieties peak and a voice in your head is screaming to get out of the damn van, even when he’s just casually puffing on a cigarette without a hint of irritation on his face. Eddie lets the cig stick to his bottom lip as his hands find your form to pull you closer to him. His right hand raises to place the smoke between his middle and forefinger, and remove it from his lips. His left hand moves to hook his thumb on your lower lip and part your mouth for him to plant an open-mouthed kiss on you as his smoke floats around you and in your mouth, his tongue hot on yours. The pamphlets your parents gave you about the dangers of cigarettes popped up in your mind as his smoke fills you. The statistics and pictures of smoker lungs mean nothing to you as he kisses you like this.

You’re more than just warming up to the smell you usually couldn’t stand, and you find yourself back where you were on Friday. Willing to take whatever he gives you. As long as he kept kissing you like this. As long as he kisses you like he plans on making you his wife while he fucks you like he’s your high school bully. The kiss is all tongues and muffled moans, your arms wrapping around his neck. You chase after his lips when he finally starts pulling away. An involuntary whimper slid from you as you look at him with heavy eyelids.

“If you want something…” He trails off in a whisper, keeping his half-lidded eyes on you even as he reaches over to tap off ash into a cheap plastic tray. His thumb and pointer finger pinch your chin to keep your focus on him. “You ask, okay? Pretty standard rules, princess.”

“But…”

“But now,” He cuts you off with a soft sigh, head tilting as he looks at you. The eye contact is becoming so intense it’s burning through you. “Now I know this is important for you, ‘kay?”

You’re surprised by this. Honestly you’re shocked by every kindness and touch of patience he provided you today. You would have never guessed Eddie Munson is even capable of such a thing. You nod with your gaze retreating downwards, toying with your hands and he chases after your stare with a tilt of his head to try and get you to look at him again, brows raised up.

“Doll?”

You wipe at the cooling streaks of tears on one cheek with your shoulder then finally look up again, and nod with more confidence this time.

“And…” He looks almost like he’s in pain for a moment before he finally continues “‘m sorry, okay?”

“…Really?” You murmur, eyes wide with shock.

“Yeah.” He huffs out a laugh. “Don’t act so surprised. I’m capable of an apology, given the right circumstances.”

You eye him, silent with hesitation and shock.

“‘N the right girl.” He murmurs with a soft voice even though he had that shit-eating grin on his face. Why is it always so charming? It’s smug and teasing, but always so endearing.

You don’t know what else to do so you just kiss him. You pull him in by his shoulders and kiss him. You kiss him like you could devour him, body and soul. His arms circle around your waist after leaving that partly-smoked cigarette in the cheap ash tray and drags you closer all while kissing you back. He’s leaning down to place you on the scratchy carpeting and hover over you. Any break for air is short-lived before you’re back on each other. Your hands tangle in the messy curls draping around your head, tugging to pull a groan from him.

“Fuck…” He sighs into the kiss, dropping his body down to put more of his weight on you. He parts from your lips despite your whiny protests and presses kisses and nips to your jaw as he works his way to your neck. His arms unfurl from around your waist so his hands can settle on your hips and let his thumbs massage into your skin. You’re pawing at his vest as he works on leaving a love bite on your pulse point below your ear, and—surprisingly—he moves away to shake the jacket-vest combo off and drop it beside you. You eye the fit of his t-shirt and it makes your mind fog up.

All your focus is on the shape of his tummy against the fabric. The way the material sticks to him and shows all the harsh angles of his toned chest. The fact that he had cut off the bottom hem of his top and when he moves the right way you can see that trail of hair on his lower stomach. The shape of his arms under the sleeves. Does he work out? Considering his lack of discipline, you couldn’t imagine him having an exercise regimen, but dear god. His arms weren’t absurdly cut, but they were still thick with enough muscle that his sleeves seem a little tight. You can see the veins of his forearms and the blown out ink on his skin. When he’s on top of you again, sucking on your neck, you let your hands drag over his back and sneak underneath his shirt. The heat of his skin and the moving musculature alone making your toes curl. You’re happy to have him on you, but you wanted that damn shirt off too. You’re grasping at the fabric and pulling it up, gasping when he bites on your neck for doing so.

“Take that shit off-“ You huff, making a smile tug at his lips.

“Using my lines now, doll?” He purrs once he’s raised up again and grasping behind his head to pull his shirt over it. You can’t even think of a smart reply, your brain short circuiting at the sight of his naked torso. Even though you enjoy it, you never really understood his urge to bite. You sure do now. You shift from laying on your back to sit up in front of him while he remains raised up on his knees. Your hands slide up his stomach, feeling the goosebumps that raise in the wake of your cold fingertips. He’s still for once and you bring your hands back down to pull on his belt, fighting against the stiff leather to slide it out of the buckle.

You’ve never given head before, mainly because the only time there was an opportunity it had been with a guy you didn’t even like that much who kept trying to push your head down while you were kissing; but you felt feverish with thoughts of Eddie’s dick down your throat. While rushing to go down on him was the last thing you had on your mind at the start of your day, after he was so sweet on you, you were desperate to taste him.

Eddie’s breath is staggered as he watches you undo his jeans, his pupils all blown out. He can’t even count how many times he’s fantasized about those lips wrapped around his cock, but he knew after everything that he didn’t deserve to go first. Fuck, he wanted to, but he doesn’t deserve it. Belt open and slack and jeans undone, he grabs your hands to pin them over your head once you were pushed back onto the floor and he leans down to kiss you. One hand holds the side of your face and the other is pulling the zipper on your hip down, muttering a you first against your lips.

Before tugging at your skirt skort, Eddie pulled away again to lift your shirt off. He grew irritable for a moment with the long sleeves that fought him, tossing it aside harshly with a grumble that made you giggle. That gentle laugh was the only thing that lightened his mood again and encouraged a small smile before he continued. He kisses down your body, giving you the occasional bite. There are little things that he does along the way that make parts of you feel beautiful—parts that you either don’t pay attention to or even aren’t fond of. It’s an odd thing considering how mean he always is, but he seems to show a devotion to each and every inch of your skin that wouldn’t occur to most men. The way his hands slide along your sides as he makes his way down your chest, giving you the occasional squeeze. The way his arms slip around your midsection and bring you closer to his face with a press to the small of your back, smothering his face between your breasts still covered by a flimsy, lace bra—breathing in the scent of your skin. The way his hold relaxes as he continues down, just to squeeze you to him again when he finds a new spot he wants to smother himself in. One side of your tummy underneath your ribs. The slight rise of your lower abdomen beneath your belly button. Your hip bones.

You’re so drunk on his touch at first that it doesn’t even occur to you where this is leading until he’s already face-to-face with the center of your underwear.

“E-Eddie- no-“ You squeak out suddenly. “Not that.”

He lifts his head to eye you curiously and with surprise at the denial of getting head, lips parted in a question that you interrupt.

“I’m on my period, remember?”

Eddie half-jerks his shoulder up in a careless shrug. “Yeah, I know. So?”

“It’s just… it’s so messy and bloody. I wouldn’t even want you to eat me out right now if I was still mad at you.”

“Doll, c’mon…” He groans while pressing his face into your inner thigh—not to try and convince you to give consent cause he doesn’t care about this boundary, but rather to show how badly he wants to do this. That he doesn’t care about the mess and he doesn’t think it’s gross, in fact he found it hot. If you were sitting in his bed or in his passenger seat and got your period, his perv ass probably wouldn’t even try to remove the stain.

“I want to.” He insists, pulling away again to look up at you. “I think it would be so fucking hot. It’ll help the pain, princess.”

You consider the offer for a moment, wondering if he’s right. If he could make you feel so good that he’d reach and clear out those aches and pains that Tylenol couldn’t even touch. You still shake your head, the thought of all that blood on his tongue and the smell in his nostrils making you nervous and embarrassed. He groans again and dramatically flops into your stomach to hide his face.

“Not with your mouth.” You clarify, cheeks all rosy.

At that, he finally raises his head with a raised brow and his bangs all messy.

“Oh yeah?”

He’s sitting up now, settling back against folded legs as he raises your legs one by one to take your shoes off and toss them randomly. You tilt your head to watch one sneaker smack the back of the passenger seat, then look to the side to watch your second sneaker smack into the interior with a vibrating clunk. After taking off your shoes, your ankles are lightly settled on his shoulders and he has his hands wrapped around your calves as he tilts his head to press a kiss to the inside of one ankle. Then he’s moving to bite the inside of the opposite knee.

After that, he skips right back to your lips, your legs parted to settle on either side of him now. Eddie hooks his fingertips into the band of your underwear and pulls them down, having to begrudgingly separate enough so you can bend your knees up to your chest while he tugs them off your legs. He’s about to casually pull on the string of your tampon when you shake your head quickly and clasp your hand over your entrance.

“I’ll- I’ll do it.” You murmur and he’s (once again) groaning irritably.

He wishes you wouldn’t be so sheepish about it. He can understand the experience of your period not being the most comfortable thing in the world, but he doesn’t know what he has to do to show that he likes it. That he wants to go down on you and wipe that mess off of his face with pride, therefore not needing to look away at your insistence while you take out your tampon. Maybe it’s his pride in being a freak. Maybe it’s a slight twinge of superiority, knowing that he was one of the few guys that would even offer in the first place. Maybe it’s that breeding kink flaring up at what he saw as a glaring reminder that you could possibly get pregnant with his kid. Maybe it’s just the fact that it’s you. But he lets you do it yourself, holding in his usual attitude for the sake of your sensitivity for once, then leaning back down to kiss you the second you give the okay.

The kiss doesn’t have as much of an apologetic gentleness as the others, but it was passionate and it was hot. The heavy breathing and groping and spit; the taste of cigarettes and mint; the scratch of slight stubble and the bump of his nose against yours. Eddie shot a hand out to feel for his jacket which he promptly crams under your tailbone to raise your hips, then dips his thumbs in the band of his exposed boxers to pull his pants and boxers down. (He didn’t take them off completely per usual, but you took getting him shirtless as your win).

Eddie pulls away just enough to wrap his hand around his cock, giving it a few good tugs before leading it to your entrance. He keeps an eye on your expression, plunging into you the moment his tip slid in. The few times he’s fucked you, you were always so messy and wet and warm, but this was enough to sign his soul away. You were soaked with arousal and blood as expected, but he wasn’t prepared for how much puffier you are like this. And so fucking hot. You mewl at the sensation, a dull ache in your lower abdomen at the start, but it’s slowly dissipating. Maybe it’s the association between blood and pain, and menstruation and pain, but you genuinely thought this would hurt more than usual—you certainly weren’t betting on your heightened sensitivity. Even that first stroke slipping into you lit up your nerves.

“‘S good, right?” He asks with a cocky grin, left hand wrapped around your right thigh and his right hand sliding over your tummy and slowly massaging the area.

You almost don’t want to admit it, but you do with a nod and pouty lips that have pathetic little whimpers slipping past them. Eddie slides back out a couple inches then pushes back into you, your toes curling as a bit of blood and arousal gushes and sputters out around his base. You curse under your breath, encouraging him to proceed. He’s uncharacteristically tender, and while seeing his sweet side today was a pleasant surprise—you just wanted him to fuck you.

“Eddie-“ You breathe out.

“Hm?”

“Please just fuck me.”

His grin is devilish and his gaze is fiery. He snaps his hips forward once without wasting a second, threatening to making your eyes roll back.

“Yeah?” He leans down, his voice a condescending whisper as he stays infuriatingly still while this deep. “My baby come cryin’ cause ‘m too mean? But she still wants me to bully her little pussy?”

You whine and nod your head, his following thrusts nearly punching the breath out of your lungs. His hand rests over your pubic bone and starts rubbing at your clit as he fucks into you. Your head lolls back into the carpeting, breasts bouncing with his efforts.

“Such a good fucking slut for me. This pussy all mine?”

“Uh huh-“ You speak in a whiny moan, hips weakly pushing forward and he takes the hint.

Eddie pulls you forward by your hips and holds you close to him as he gives you breathtakingly shallow thrusts. Your eyes begin to water from the way he’s moving inside you and his thumb is brushing on your clit. His other hand parts from your hip to grip onto the center of your bra, pulling it down to free your breasts and to keep a steady grip on you by the fabric clasped around your chest.

“Eddie-” You sob, and an earth-shattering sense of relief blows through him, leaving him temporarily wrecked before settling again like a gust of wind pushing up bird feathers before they smooth out again. Finally seeing those globs of tears in your eyes in the way he loves brought that balance back, and he’s doubling his efforts. Your lips part and your back arches up off of the carpet of his van, those wet streaks leading from your eyes back into your hair just like they were on Friday.

You’re counting your blessings that you aren’t back in your bed with your parents down the hall during your make up session because even the fear of being caught wouldn’t have been able to stop the moan that gasps from your lungs when you cum around him. All the tension and hormones and yearning of this week mixing with the overpowering pleasure he’s giving you, all culminating to this very moment and making you see stars. You feel like you’ve been temporarily shoved under water, all of the sounds around you muffling—even the sound of your own breathing. Just as you’re floating back up to the surface, Eddie’s leaning down to place his lips on yours. His large hands cover both sides of your face as he’s kissing you like he means it, only letting his hands part from your cheeks to wrap around your midsection and scoop you up while he sits back.

“Fuck-” You breathe out, hands settling to cradle the back of his head. You’re sure you look as disheveled as you feel. He thinks you look incredible.

“I know right?” He teases, all smug even in this quieter tone of voice and he laughs when you smack at his arm.

He eyes you from where his face is level with your chest, watching the playful irritation melt from your expression as he starts thrusting up into you. You’re almost too overstimulated from him moving so close to your orgasm that was still pulsing in the aftershock, but fuck if this doesn’t feel too good to pause even for a moment. Eddie wraps his arms around you to finally unclasp your bra and fling it towards the front of his van, metal hooks clinking against the hard surface of his dashboard. His hands smooth over your back, groaning against your skin as he smothers himself between your breasts again, fucking up into you. You start bouncing on top of him to meet his thrusts, whimpering quietly at the fluttering still rippling through your walls. You still have that palpable pulse inside you, squeezing around him and making it incredibly difficult to not cum before he can get you to let go at least one more time.

“C’n you cum for me, doll? Gimme one more?” He finally separates from your chest to look up at you again and while you were always the one looking fucked out, when you look at him you can’t help but feel like you’re seeing him the same way. A faint shine to his doe eyes glossed over with lust, that rosy tint to his cheeks, and the swell of his pink lips. You nod, but your hips buck in disagreement when his touch is back on your clit. It’s admittedly too soon, your eyes burning with prickling tears as the pleasure jolts through you like shocks of electricity rather than rolling waves—but you certainly weren’t going to ask him to stop.

You gasp out his name, fingers gripping the hair all damp with perspiration at the nape of his neck. You feel like you’re vibrating and the cramping in your stomach nearly makes you break and ask him to stop nudging at that sensitive bud. Your nails dig into the back of his neck, hearing him groan against your skin, feeling his hot breath on your chest. The two of you are moving like the universe would simply unravel if you stopped—as if it isn’t already unraveling in this moment.

“Oh my god-“ You moan and Eddie’s sinking his teeth into your breast—partly to punctuate his claim, partly to muffle his own sounds as he unloads inside of you.

You’re trembling in his lap with soft sobs in the aftershock of probably the most heart-stopping, all-consuming orgasm you’ve ever experienced. Even the slightest touch to your flushed skin sent shocks throughout your nerves and made you cry out, so Eddie stays still.

When both of your hearing is clear again, and you swallow to bring some moisture back to your throat—you let out a small laugh. It isn’t malicious or mocking. It rose up out of pure joy and relief and (honestly) a bit of surprise at everything that’s happened. And it all happened so quickly, you aren’t sure if your memory was able to keep up. God, you hoped it was. You want to relive it every time you close your eyes at night.

Eddie’s licking his lips and pulling back to look at you, a few laughs of his own bubbling up. Like always, he isn’t quick to pull out, but he does set you back down onto the carpet and press a few kisses to your jaw. His hands are pressed into the floor on either side of your head, pulling up his upper body to look down at you. Your hair is messy around your face, and streaks of mascara are all muddled around your eyes and down your cheeks. He put all of his weight on one arm to allow his other hand to raise up and swipe at those black streaks with his thumb before settling back down to kiss you, one arm still pressed up and bent at the elbow and the other settling his forearm on the rug.

The kiss is slower, but still sloppy with exhaustion. He pulls back one more time just to smile down at your face and ends up right back to kissing you seconds later.

The sun is setting in Hawkins and the two of you are all over each other until you realize how late it had gotten and your lips might as well have been ready to fall off. But even when you’re dropped off at home with excuses ready, he still climbed in through that bedroom window to keep kissing you once everyone in the house retired for the night.

After all, you finally left it unlocked and he couldn’t stand another week out in the cold.

Eddie never did work up the nerve to properly ask you what you meant by that blunt reply that one Autumn day... ↓

CLICK ON YOUR ENDING OF CHOICE:

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angsty 💔

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honestsycrets · 1 year

Note

omggg I would love to request a "are you really so oblivious?" with Miguel

❛ summary | you're not picking up on any of the signs Miguel is throwing. he's is desperate enough to ask your pupil pavitr for help.

❛ sy's notes | as requested! i will post dad!miguel drabble on wednesday.

❛ sy's tags | pupil pavitr, pavitr being a helpful bug, some anger, some violence, mostly just minor angst and some cuteness.

“She's pretty, no?" Pavitr sings, "You could just assssk her. ”

Miguel doesn’t know why he’s here. He doesn't know why he's still trying after the trainwreck that was February. He also doesn’t know why the kid insists that 'help' is bombing his dates just to whisper in his ear. Dates that he feels are dates but you don’t know are dates.

That's what happens when you want a woman who hasn't dated in years.

It’s not enough that he’s stuffed himself into clothes that he doesn’t like, like the black button-up that is a size too small, because that’s the largest size he could find. He leaves a button or two exposed because as Pavitr says, you love to comment on how soft he looks with just a little skin. He has to be soft, too.

As if being soft was ever a good thing for Miguel. It never failed. He gets soft, his life goes complete and utter shit. You’re nibbling a hunk of roti between your thumb and index finger, grinning behind your fingers. You might have heard it, but like many things, you’re not connecting the dots. You never connect the fucking dots.

“Hm, new girlfriend, Pav?”

“Me?” he peeped, his grin ear to ear. “No! Bhaiya has his eye on a girl. A pretty girl.”

The loud cafe was full of beautiful women with thick bangles, kohl-lined eyes, and playful smiles. They spoke about all kinds of things: family life, relationships, friendships, and school. Of every woman here, he finds himself aching to know what goes on behind your eyes, almost troubled with what Pavitr was saying.

“Mi Miguel?” you tilt your head, a set of your gilded earrings clinking as you moved. Pavitr suggested you dress up on purpose-- Despite the power that courses through his upper body, Miguel feels weak. "Not my Miguel."

My Miguel-- Mi Miguel, both sound gorgeous when they come your lips. He could get used to it.

“See, she said ‘mi’, that’s your chance,” he’s whispering in Miguel’s ear. He pinches his brow, rolling the skin between his fingertips. Whatever chance Pavitr thinks he has is slipping away. Miguel can’t be bothered to stop it. This kid can't possibly know how you feel.

“You have to be talking about someone else. All those Spiders in HQ and yet Miguel never goes after them, not one. Mira-- Pav. On San Valentín Miguel gave me flowers, rosas. Of all the girls!”

Fuck. Pav blinked, his gaze following Miguel in his seat. He doesn’t address his humiliation, just lets you chew on it. He closes his eyes, wishing that he could forget that awkward day. It was pathetic, the way he called you into his lab, a bundle of roses in his arms. Just for a kiss on the cheek that proceeded to torment him the rest of the month. Aw, how cute, Miggy.

All that... just to be called cute.

"Maybe he likes you! Did you get him anything?" Pav is trying here, but you’re not picking up on anything that he’s laying down. You laughed it off, awkward as you were.

“Me? No, Miguel-- he doesn't like me,” you clean your hands and lean in your chair. Your sultry eyes fall on Miguel, bidding him to lower his hand from his eyes. He catches your gaze as you ask, "Do you, Miggy?"

"No. You're making assumptions."

Your eyes scan Miguel over, searching for some sort of fault in Miguel's face. Solemn, playing as amused. You don't find any in his hard gaze. You come to the antithesis of what he meant, assuming that he was talking to Pavitr rather than you. Your gaze hardens, shutting him out from the depths of your emotions. Then, your mood turns. It's not like you.

“See? The day Miguel finds a woman is the day I'll find a man." You reach for your tea, lips churning in a frown. " Pero, since he has someone, I should start looking in Nueva York, hm?”

Pavitr grimaces.

“Damn it!” Miguel bites out. His hand slams on the flimsy table, snapping it in two. Your tea spills over your gold dress as Pavitr and you lurch to stabilize it. It didn’t help that there were countless sets of warm eyes boring at Miguel as he stormed through the tiny entrance of the shop to avoid more damage to the poor owner’s store.

Why did he try? He was entirely sick of it. Sick of trying to show how much damn work he was doing to get you to understand how he felt. Pavitr had not helped at all. If anything, he made it worse. At least before-- you weren't looking for someone. When you were alone, just with him, it could be the two of you. No one else mattered. Miguel regrets stomaching his pride just to ask the boy for help. What was he thinking-- asking a teenager about adult issues?

“Miggy!”

He hears your voice but dips into the busy crowd. He sticking out like a sore thumb with his excessive muscle tone and your quick steps, quicker with your spider abilities. If you were anyone else, he would have cut you out of his life. Instead, he’s just a bug stuck in your spider web.

You snatched his watch-clad wrist, whirling him around. He can’t fight your touch, he longs for it, craves it more than he’s craved anything in the past few months. You shove him into a shadowy alleyway. His back connects with the wall, head shifting to the sea of saris and rich color. He isn’t looking at you.

“Miguel O’Hara, look at me.”

“Go find that man you want so much,” he bit out, the words scratching out of his throat as if they had barbs.

“¿Qué? Miguel, you’re-- dios mío. Why are you acting so angry? You didn't want me!”

“Of course, I want you! But you are-- are you really so oblivious?” he shouted, his fist connecting with the wall beside him, A crater forms around his massive hand, shaking loose dust from the building. "Nothing I do is enough."

"Stop," you grasp his hand, bringing them to your hand for a slight kiss. His heart rips into his chest, suddenly unable to tear his eye away from the red stain of lipstick over his knuckles. His irritation cools like cold water meeting a roiling boil, tracking how you shift his large palm to your cheek.

“Perdóname. I thought--” you find yourself mumbling, “You… How could you like me?”

He watches your hand fall away from his, maintaining a hold on your cheek. Even now, he finds you beautiful, soaked in chai all over your gilded gown. He knows why you can’t understand. Since he’s known you, you rarely had a man pursue you because as a girlfriend. Aside from your shapely body, you were the sort of woman men didn’t usually pursue. He knows you don’t like his shouting, it shows in the way your eyes dart to the pebbles under his boots. He tapers down his tone.

“I just do.” He sets a small kiss on your forehead, his hand slipping around to collar your nape. Your fingers turn over his tawny exposed chest, almost shyly so. You could bring him to his knees touching him like that, a gentleness that he’s only longed for since he first fell for you. You’re so close-- yet, nothing is solidified. It could slip away. “¿Y tú?”

“I-- I do, I do too.”

Your cheeks flush. Moreso when he spots Pavitr peeking around the corner, gazing at his thumb stroking your cheek with the most aggravating smile ruptured across his face. Miguel releases a breath he wasn’t aware he was holding, his tone becoming sharp, nearly heartless in the way he says them.

“Soooo, do you... need any more help, Bhaiya?”

“I think we can take it from here, Pav. Thank you for helping me.”

Helping you? Miguel snaps down to look at you. You gaze back into Miguel’s confused eyes with the warmth that he needs at that moment. Pavitr’s picking-- about asking you out, teasing him when you said you’d find someone else-- suddenly makes complete sense. Pav slides away, grinning like the idiot Miguel feels he is.

“What do you mean-- Helping you?”

“Well,” you smiled. “Miggy. He’s my kid. You couldn’t have really thought he’d help you.”

“No. Apparently not."

#miguel o'hara x you #miguel x reader #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o'hara oneshot #miguel ohara oneshot #miguel o'hara/reader #miguel o'hara x reader #atsv imagine #atsv miguel imagine #atsv x you #atsv imagines #atsv x reader #spider 2099 x reader #spiderman imagine #spiderman imagines #spiderman 2099 x you

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saturnalmoss · 3 months

Text

ARM-WRESTLER

Chapter Seven

A Heart As Cold As Ice

Master Post

York and Grendan met Granny Skully outside in the busy yard. She was checking the old-style rope and bone workout equipment. She looked over when they approached.

“Good.” She said. “A young prince should be out here every morning.”

She stood with Grendan and observed York’s form with a critical eye. She was happily yelling corrections to everything she could think of within minutes. Grendan bit his lip. It looked like York might pop.

Well, it seemed like if they fought, it would be pretty consensual on both sides. Still, he was a peaceful dwarf. “So, Granny Skully!” He said, leaning between them. “Granny, please give me a history lesson!”

“Hmm? But you aren’t actually paying!~” She cackled at Grendan’s fallen expression. “There, there. I’ll humor you. What shall I tell you about...”

“Ah, here, sit. I’ll tell you about orcish gruk shak.” York barked a laugh from the log lifting station.

“Shak’d a lot of gruk in my day.” he said proudly.

Granny kissed her tusks at him. “Your generation and it’s slang, huh! You’re misleadin’ your dear friend here. What if he picks it up!” York made a noncommittal but insulting noise back.

“Granny, Granny! What’s gruk shak? And I guess, how do you use it in a sentence?”

“You commit gruk shak.” She said promptly. “It’s a noun, dear. It means, roughly, settling an argument between two orcs.” She thought a moment. Grendan nodded. York would have settled a lot of arguments. He assumed, because it was York, that “settling” had a violent connotation.

“The folk here thought it was just a fight, of course.” Granny continued. “So orcish immigrants had to change some things. You can’t just commit gruk shak anywhere around here.” She pointed to the yard and the high log fence around the perimeter. “Our folks would only commit on our own property, and we would build our fences high to keep prudish noses out. We added new rules: no running to your human momma, and first one to squeal loses the argument.” She nodded to herself. “All to protect our orcish roots.” Grendan whistled, impressed.

“Ah, Granny,” Grendan said “What about external arguments? That must have been pretty hard for early immigrants!”

York sat heavily next to them. “I’ll tell you Grenda, it was a shock for me comin’ here and you can’t just kill a guy. And I had a human mother!” Granny Skully nodded.

“Was worse then, little prince,” she said. “Folks didn’t truck much with orcs back then - didn’t know much ‘bout us and we didn’t know much ‘bout them. There was plenty of let’s say... misunderstandings. Lots of legal issues - but that lead to our proud tradition of orcish injury lawyers round these parts!” Grendan choked.

He had a hard time imagining York with the patience to turn a jury. He would look very nice in a suit, though.

“Young Ardsley’s a lawyer, in fact.” Granny Skully said. “Said he was hopin’ you’d turn up our prankster soon so he could show ‘em the inside of a cell.” York huffed.

“I’ve seen lawyers on the TV,” he said. “They don’t look like much.” Granny sighed.

“It ain’t a practice that gets much respect in the northern tribes. An’ orcs round here don’t necessarily get much respect from their fellow lawyers, it’s a shame to say. Still, a fight’s a fight.”

“A fight’s a fight.” York said. “Does he fight good, then?” Granny hummed.

“I dunno. Better do.”

“He doesn’t talk about it with Leon?” Grendan asked. “They’re friends, right? We were hoping to ask Mr. Orcking if he could think of any enemies Leon might have?”

“Their office seems to love ‘em.” York said. “But maybe a friend knows shit you don’t share with a weak co-worker.”

Granny stretched her arms ahead, and cracked her back slowly. She looked thoughtful. “Asking Young Ardsley’s a good idea.” she said. “They’ve know each other a very long time. Both courted my dear Tupilurin back in the day.”

“Your daughter?” Grendan asked.

“Who died?” York added. Grendan’s eyes bugged but Granny Skully just sighed.

“A damn shame for an orc to outlive her child.” She looked out over the museum’s yard. “But that’s neither here nor there.”

“I... Don’t want to press,” Grendan said. “But, just in case, you don’t think how she died would have anything to do with Leon’s attacker, right?”

Granny tilted her head, then shook it. She paused before saying, “Nnno, not exactly. No. She blew ‘erself up, being an alchemist. It’s a bit of a risk in the field. She survived most of the times - strong girl. But not the last one.”

York looked askance at her. “But you thought a’ something else, Granny?”

“Well... it’s been so long, it’s faded from my mind. Ha! I’d be shocked to hear myself say so, a decade ago.” She sighed. “I recalled... Leon was a different elf in their youth.”

The detectives glanced at each other.

“Were they in with a bad crowd?” Grendan asked carefully.

“No, no. Nothing like that. It were more... they were just cold. Very cold.

“They loved my Tupilurin. More than anything in the world. But anything else? Everything else? It did not bear their attention.”

She shrugged. “I didn’t like them much, then. Stands to reason if I weren’t the only one.”

Grandan noted this down in his sketchpad. “That wasn’t what I expected you to say.” He said. “They were just, hard to get along with? I guess you could make enemies that way.”

“We’ve probably made enemies that way.” York said. “Granny, how long ago was this? When’d they get more personable?”

“I reckon they just got better over time. They’re lucky I needed help as much as I did with the kids or they wouldn’a lived long enough to grow!” she cackled. Then she stopped suddenly.

“I don’ think I’ve properly put in your heads what kind of an elf they were.” She said. “When my Tupilurin died, they left.”

“Left?” York said. “You mean...”

“Left the kids?” Grendan whispered, horrified.

“Disappeared without a word, for years. Thought they were gone for good.” She looked darkly. “Actin’ like that, someone could make a lotta enemies, don’t you think?”

“Why did you... let them come back?” Grendan asked.

“Mmm. I was struggling. I don’ much want to admit. I needed help. They showed up at the door one day - well I don’ think you would have said so if you were there, but to me, they were... almost contrite.” She made a noise between a laugh and a growl, derisive at this old memory. “I was as angry as the old Yebo at the moon, but I hid it. They said they wanted to provide for the kids and the kids, - I, - we needed the income.”

Granny Skully sighed, old in her bones. “I never did call that elf out. I was afraid at first they would take insult, take off, and we’d lose what little money we had.

“After that, well, my anger faded.”

She looked at them. “First I’ve talked ‘bout this in a long, long time. First I’ve thought about it.”

“Thanks for telling us.” Grendan said softly. York huffed and looked up at the morning sky.

“If you think about it, fightin’ your own honor to protect your kin is pretty cool.”

Granny scoffed, the crags of her old face softer than usual.

❈ ❈

At the breakfast table, the three detective gesture excitedly at each other. They had much to share, later. Leon waved to Granny, Grenda and York as they entered. “Look! Two arms!” They said happily.

“Wanna wrestle?” York asked. Leon’s bluish face went green and their eyes went wide. They sighed.

“I can’t tell if this is how you get a sense of people or if you really do have no sense of sport.” Jyuri beside them giggled. “But I am sorry, friend!” they said cheerfully. “Doctor’s orders. I can’t do anything strenuous ‘til I get a follow up with Dr. Shipcott.” York said nothing.

Rosé chin hands. “Hope you guys had a good morning! I got to meet the arm doctor again. They just seemed like strangers though.”

“Well, acquaintances.” Leon said. “She’s been my doctor for some time, now.”

“Oh?” said Grenda. “I guess she wouldn’t know more about who attacked you, Leon?”

Leon shook their head with a smile. “I really doubt my doctor would know something like that.” Rosé smiled. The door opened.

“I have arrived.” Ardsley Orcking walked in, still besuited.

“Ardsley! Welcome, please sit.” Leon waved his newly restored arm and Granny slapped a heavy wooden chair.

Rosé looked over at Ardsley. “Nice to see you again, Mr. Orcking. Are you a regular to visit?”

“I’m often out of town, Ms. Rosé.” he said. “But yes, when I’m here, I try to stop by. It’s good for young ladies to have a male orc to look up to, and I do rather like seeing my friend.” Ardsley looked over the top of his nose. “...Are you writing this down?”

Grenda looked up, “Yup! No worries, it’s nothing personal.” Ardsley didn’t seem like he quite agreed and opened his mouth.

“Granny?” Leon looked confused. “You took my plate? I wasn’t finished?”

“Course!” she nodded and ate Leon’s food with a huff. Leon scooched out their seat with a confused smile and dug in the cupboards for another place setting.

“Granny, what did I do that you’re put out with me today?” They said playfully. She huffed and puffed again.

“I was remembering what a lil shit you were in your youth.” She said shortly. Leon noticeably winced, and Ardsley coughed.

“Well, that would do it, wouldn’t it?” They said under their breath. Granny Skully shook her head.

“I’m only mad at an elf you’ve long since ceased to be. Pay no mind.” Leon gave her a small smile that didn’t match the unhappy look in their eyes.

❈ ❈

The detectives threw themselves together the moment they left the table. “We have to plan our day!” Rosé said.

“Let’s drop by the office.” York said. When the other two nodded, he held a hand up his mouth and yelled, “We’re heading out to find out more! Be back later!”

Ardsley hurried to catch them as they made to leave. “I do apologize about my behavior over a shared meal.” He said. “Of course, you are just trying to do you jobs. I overreacted.”

“Eh?” York looked surprised. “We didn’t even duke it out in the yard pit!”

“That would have been an over reaction.” Rosé said. “We didn’t even rob you.”

“What?” Said Ardsley.

“What?” Said Rosé.

“So, hey, Mr. Ardsely! You ever have to represent Leon?” Grendan asked quickly. Ardsley glanced once more at Rosé but turned to the druid.

“No. I am an injury lawyer, and Leon does not tend to injure others.” He said. He straightened up. “Please, ask whatever you need.”

“We will!” York said. “What’s the difference between a lawyer and a businessman?”

“Is this a joke?” Ardsely asked after a moment.

“I’ve never heard a joke in my life.” York said.

“Have you ever represented someone who injured Leon?” Rosé asked.

“I have not. Leon’s particular mutilation was self-inflicted.” Grendan looked surprised.

“I thought it could have been his late wife!” Ardsley’s face flickered.

“No. They were quite enamored with one another. She was gentle with him, like a frail glass.”

“I mean, good to know, but I meant cause like she was a alchemist and thats how she - uh.”

“Died.” Ardsely said. “Yes. That is not when he lost his arm. Anyway, I don’t think any of this will lead you to that street bandit.”

“You never know.” Grendan said.

“What ‘bout enemies?” York asked. “Even if you didn’t represent them?” Ardsley shook his head.

“I must say, I’d forgotten until Granny Skully mentioned it but... Even when Leon was a difficult young man to get along with, I wouldn’t say the attitude started fights.

“I had been wondering, by the way,” Ardsely said. “You think this was done by someone who knows Leon, don’t you?”

“Ah!” Grendan said. “We really don’t have any reason to suspect you-”

“Yet.” Said Rosé and York together.

“No, no.” Ardsley gave a deep chuckle and held up his hands. “I mean, I noticed you’ve asked us all,” he waved a hand. “About people we may have interacted with before. As a lawyer, I do know a fight is far more likely to occur between acquaintances than strangers. I quite agree.” He frowned. “Well, I would. But I really can’t think of anyone.”

He blinked, then closed his eyes in thought.

“Actually, there’s a small possibility that a stranger may have done it.” He held up a huge finger. “I must emphasis small, as the assailant would have to be quite unreasonable.”

“Spit it out,” said York. “What’d’you think of?”

“There is a tall tale associated with this building.” Ardsely said. “The family that built this humble estate, they were said to be great warlords! And, more importantly perhaps,” He looked conspiratorial at them. “Possessed of great spoils.”

“Oh. My. God.” Rosé said softly. “Are you telling me that their fortune disappeared with them and they never used banks and it was never recovered and I could be standing on it right now?”

“Quite so.” Ardsely said. She let out a tiny scream. “There have been some number of break-ins as long as I’ve known of this place. None have been violent yet, but-”

“What?” Ardsley turn to the voice behind him.

Leon stared at them with a peculiarly blank expression. “Ardsley... you aren’t saying someone attacked me because of that old folktale?”

“I don’t want to rule it out.” Ardsley said. Leon’s eyes flicked over the three detectives, then over to Ardsley.

“Stay here.” Leon said to him.

“Stay here?”

“Until they catch the bastard.” Leon said. Ardsley sighed.

“I cannot. I must be off again, soon.” Leon said nothing. Their eyes flickered over the room. They seemed to be thinking. “Calm yourself, my friend. It’s only a small chance.”

“Tell me, detectives.” Leon said. “What is your success rate?”

“Hundred percent.” York said. Grendan and Rosé nodded, as encouragingly as they could. Leon turned and left, cloak flying out behind them.

Ardsley looked at them impressed. “We’ve left this in good hands, it seems. Worry not about them, they are just paranoid that the criminal could return.” York nodded firmly.

“Hey,” Grendan said as Ardsley turned to leave for the night. He looked back. “You’re a friend of the family, right? I mean, not just Leon.”

Ardsely nodded.”Of the good family first, in fact. It took a bit and a while to warm up to Leon. But they grow on you... for an elvish twink, with no muscle, who teaches their daughters parlor tricks.” He shook his head and muttered, “Magic, of all things.”

He looked surprised. He looked at York, his expression offering a shared camaraderie over the ignorance of non-orcs. “Well, because they weren’t mine.” He said simply.

“So, how come you didn’t help Granny Skully out with the kids?” Grendan asked. “When Leon took off? She was struggling to provide for them. What if she lost them!”

#drawfee #saturnart #fanfic #drawtectives #writing

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factual-fantasy · 2 years

Text

20 ask things :-)

(Comic in question)

So the funny thing about the creature in the last few panels, is that most people seemed to jump to the conclusion that its Burntrap. I think its mostly due to the body shape and its purple eyes.. Which is fair.

But also may I remind ya’ll that in my AU, when a bot of some kind is “infected” with “the bug”..

Their eyes turn purple. So whos to say that’s William following Foxy around?👀

@subspacecadet Foxy and Bonnie might not know what that means, and just assume you’re calling them “furry”, like they’re covered in fur. Which for Foxy is like “Yeah duh, I have a fake fur coat” and Bonnie’s thinking “My shell doesn’t really have fur but okay-”

Same would go for the Glamrocks. I don’t think they would know what that really means.

The only character that would probably know what being called a Furry means is DJ Music Man funnily enough. He’s always hanging around older kids in the arcade and might have heard them talking about Furries once. In which he would know being called a furry is usually supposed to be an insult. In which he would be offended on the Glamrocks behalf.

Random kid: “I don’t like Freddy, he’s a furry! >:(”

Freddy: “..I.. believe you are mistaken. I don’t have fur. I have a plastic shell! :)”

DJMM: “>:/ Yeah well ur MOMS a furry”

Random kid: “>:O”

Freddy:

Not quite, but her bitterness towards Roxanne does heavily involve Foxy. 👀

@yukurie As it stands right now, my AU branches off from the ending where Gregory escapes from the Pizzaplex at 6 AM and is found by Vanny in that box.

Except in my AU, Vanny didn’t find Gregory. Gregory didn’t stop somewhere nearby and sleep in a box. Gregory just kept running, and was never found.

Although after part 2 of “Bits and Pieces” is posted, I plan to take a break and really build up my FNAF AU more. A lot of my timeline is left blank, which needs fixing.

So with that being said, my AU might be re-written and this ending will no longer be canon. :/

@banaanipapu

XDD No worries! That just tells me someone really likes my work! :}}

@lets-zofifi-stuff (post in question)

I didn’t really have any dialogue planned out for that doodle. But I imagine Sunny is in tears because someone finally visited him after months of being all alone.

He’s probably stumbling over his words asking Foxy about everything that’s going on outside the Daycare.

“Have you seen DJ?? Is he okay?? He’s still in the arcade right?? Are the others okay?? Why has no one come to see me?? Have they all forgotten about me?? What’s going on out there??”

And Foxy’s just like:

Did she really? Whack. But it doesn’t really matter because Monty mix isn’t really a thing in my AU for 2 reasons.

1: I completely forgot it existed and thus didn’t write it into my AU--

And 2: I don’t think there would be a logical reason for it to make any animatronic that consumes it go crazy.

In my AU, Chica attempts to consume food during her “malfunction” for reasons unrelated to Monty Mix. And the animatronics don’t have stomachs, its not like she could eat it, absorb something toxic in it and go crazy. If anything she could consume it and it clogs her up internally and she shuts down. But again this doesn’t matter because I didn’t write Monty Mix into my AU-

@cherrycreamfairy Thank you! :DD I do my best! :}}}

@void-the-bear

Girl go back to SLEEP

(Coming from someone who ALSO isn’t asleep when I really should be rn)

AOSKJDOASDKS THANK YOU! :D

If they ever encountered those animatronics in cannon, they would probably be completely mangled and shut down. In which Foxy and the others would just find them super creepy.. and weirdly HUGE.

As for if they were alive/active?.. I have no idea. Considering my Glamrocks aren’t supposed to be murderous and possessed.. it probably wouldn’t be a friendly encounter 😬

Thank you! Unfortunately though I.. am not the best at teaching people how to draw things or giving advice.

I mostly draw through muscle memory. And I don’t really know how to describe how I’ve learned to draw the way I do. I guess I looked at how other people draw faces and tried to mimic it. I guess its like-

“Okay I drew this sad face, but it doesn’t really look that sad.. lemme look for how I can improve this face.”

“Oh! This artist also drew a sad face! And they drew the eyebrows a certain way, that makes the character look really sad :( Let me try that!”

And then I draw the weird eyebrows, see that its an improvement, and draw it like that from then on-

You see- I’m not really good at giving advice/teaching 😭😭😭

@halogenrobotics I don’t see why not! :0

@ourlifestooshort Thank you! I’m glad you like them!

And I do have full body refs for them, but uh.. I think I’ll just uh, keep those tucked away in my files for now- 😅

@chromchill Thank you! I’m glad you like them! :}}

And I would like to say I’m taking breaks, drinking water and stretching.. but uh.. hehhhh... 😅

Awwww, that’s a great headcannon!

(Comic in question(?))

We’ll just have to wait and see! :}

@cali-the-temmie Uhg, very frustrating. Although its nice to hear that everyone is calling them out and knows its stolen work.

@noisyapricotcalzoneclod Nowhere! My Refinedtale AU has been put on hold BIG TIME in favor of my FNAF AU.

And even if it wasn’t, my RefinedTale AU is still a work in progress. And I haven’t fully planned out Gaster’s recovery, nor have I drawn/written it. :/

I am 100% sure my Kung-fu panda AU thing ends with Shifu being completely fine. :} I know this because I made it.

#my response #fnaf security breach

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beatriceeagle · 2 months

Text

@tevyaa sent an ask with a snippet from "something just broke" for DVD commentary. Unfortunately due to the nature of the fic, even a very short snippet takes up a massive amount of space (and the formatting limitations of the ask box make it very difficult to parse) so I'm making a separate post for it.

Commentary under the cut. (Since this fic heavily includes diegetic bolded text, my commentary will be indented.) Tragically, it doesn't seem possible to right-align text on Tumblr, so apologies for any confusion about who's speaking.

Given the subject matter of the fic, be advised that there's a whole lot of discussion of sexual assault below.

"unstoppable mofos in masks" group chat

Donna I have a question I'd like to throw to the chat

Would you be comfortable with male survivors in here?

There was a version of this fic that dug into the gendered experience of sexual assault a lot more, but I ended up mostly cutting that thread for being a) not totally relevant to the broader point I was making, b) very difficult to untangle the Watsonian and Doyleist implications of, and as a result c) something that I wasn't totally sure what I wanted to say about. Some of that material ended up in "this year's love." Some of it is still floating around in my brain.

I left this particular conversation less because I had something to say with it, and more because it felt like something these particular characters would bring up.

Mia are they unstoppable mofos in masks? because if not could be a problem

Firenza I assume this is someone you know and trust not to fuck up too badly?

I'm really proud of "Firenza Hale" as a secret identity name for a fire-based superhero.

Donna I do

Barbara I'll vouch for him too.

I hope everyone appreciates that Barbara and Bruce are the only characters in the fic who end every sentence with a period.

Firenza Then I'm okay with it

Donna Mia, I’m assuming you were trying to say you don’t mind?

Mia 👍

Donna And Kory already said she’s okay

Okay, I’ll add him

Donna Troy added Dick Grayson

Mia no fucking way

oh wow that was super not okay sorry

I have read some of Mia's run in Green Arrow, but not nearly as much as I have of many of the other characters, so although I have a sense of her personality, I was very worried that I might have totally missed the mark with her. My general sense from the reaction I've gotten is that I did not at the very least TOTALLY miss it, which is a great relief. I bring that up mostly because, for obvious reasons, this is the moment that I worried most about. It did very much feel like a moment that needed to be acknowledged, though, and Mia seemed like the right choice of person to do so.

Dick Hey Mia 😎

I assume you’re the one who named the chat?

Mia like it?

Dick It’s amazing

-----

"unstoppable mofos in masks" group chat

Here's the level of picky that I get about writing: In this fic, I tried not to have the same characters/medium twice in a row, so for instance I tried not to have a newspaper article followed immediately by another newspaper article, or a Donna conversation followed by another Donna conversation. And TO THIS DAY it bugs me that I didn't find something to go in between these two group chat snippets.

Firenza Hey, does anyone know anything about Lois Lane?

She approached me to talk to her for an article about the JLA's response or lack thereof

Her work seems good, but I wanted to be thorough

Barbara Lois is on the up-and-up

Missed a period here. I should probably go back and fix that.

Donna She is JLA-adjacent, which is probably technically a conflict, but you know how that goes

The journalistic ethics of the superhero world fascinate me to no end.

Firenza She actually told me that

Donna Well I think she's a great reporter who's interested in the truth

Dick This is a pro-Lois Lane household

Apartment

Whatever

Firenza Okay, that's all very reassuring

Btw I know she's looking for other vigilantes to talk to, anonymously or otherwise

-----

Texts between Barbara Gordon and Stephanie Brown

So, have you decided about Bruce?

nope

stuck in unending indecisive hell

Steph and Mia have similar texting styles because they're modeled after the younger Gen Z texters I know. Steph uses slightly more punctuation than Mia because I tried to make everyone's personal style slightly different. (I also tried to think about how different social circles would affect each other's styles. The OG Titans grew up together and stay in frequent contact, so they write similarly! And so on!)

I may have a compromise option for you. Or at least, something that you could do to test how you feel.

Lois Lane is doing a story on the JLA's general culture and response to abuse and assault. You could talk to her about your general feelings—and you could do it anonymously.

She probably wouldn't print specific accusations without more evidence, but you're not sure you want to do that anyway.

So it could be a way of saying *something* without having to decide whether you want to say *everything* yet.

I thought the Steph subplot was important to include because this is fundamentally a fic about the SYSTEMS that allow sexual assault to flourish, and systems that allow sexual assault will also allow other kinds of abuse. I also knew that I wanted the fic to end with everything not totally tied up and neatly resolved, and this was an obvious choice for a loose thread to remain.

that's… an idea

i'll think about it

#ask #ask game #dc

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whumpbug · 4 months

Note

hi bug!

for your boys, just a thought: a moment where archie has to patch simon up. role reversal. like if simon tried to protect his boy and got himself hurt, and now he has to talk archie through patching him up.....

your boys are so lovely. i can't wait to see them get whumped to bits in the event!!!

- @whump-kia

kia this was genuinely such a blast to write that it ended up a tad longer than i originally planned for, thank you SO much for the prompt (˃ᆺ˂) i hope u like it as much as i loved writing it because these boys are SILLY.

to anyone else: see this post for character info!

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

There was a rumor circulating that there was an “inconspicuous medical student” spotted “aiding the activities of a notorious vigilante” in the city, and it was safe to say the crime lords and such were not happy about it.

The rumors were true, of course, but it didn’t make them any easier to deal with.

And Simon was currently dealing with them.

He should have known his extremely selfless and abundantly kind nature towards Archie would come back to bite him in the ass.

He’d be sure to rub it in Archie’s face when he saw him again.

“You’re the kid that’s been helping that little punk, aren’t you?” The man spat in Simon’s face as he shoved him up against the wall.

Judging by the way he was dressed and the way he smelled, Simon had half a mind to assume he was a goon from the drug ring Archie had been after for some time now.

Fortunately, the guy clearly wasn’t the brightest. No experienced lackey would start heckling a target in the middle of an open alley way without checking if anyone was around first.

Unfortunately, the guy was quite a bit stronger than Simon and there really wasn’t anyone around after all.

Just my luck.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Simon spewed back, struggling against the man’s grasp.

The man’s hand tightened around Simon’s neck and the gravity of the situation began to sink in.

He was alone in this alley. Sure, he had used the emergency button on his watch that sent signal to Archie as soon as he recognized he was in danger, but it had been a good amount of time and Archie was.. nowhere to be found.

“Don’t play dumb with me!” The man shouted, sending a knee slamming into Simon’s gut. “You’re going to tell me everything you know!” Another knee to his middle sent him stumbling back and doubling over.

“I don’t.. don’t know anything..” Simon sputtered, coughing harshly and tasting metal.

Simon knew he was in hot water. He had no combat training, so self defense skills, and despite being decently fit, he was no where near the league of a guy who beat people up for a living. He needed to get out of there as fast as possible.

Alright Simon, c'mon. Focus. You can handle this. Just think.

Before Simon could form another coherent thought, a fist connected with his face that sent him reeling. Blood began leaking from his nose all down his mouth, and he choked on the taste. Before he could recover, his whole body was rammed against the brick wall and his arm was pulled awkwardly behind him.

The punch had left him dazed, so dazed that he didn’t recognize the sound of two other guys approaching the scene.

“For god’s sake, don’t kill the kid! Rough him up, get some information, but don’t kill him. We'll have more use for him later,” A deeper voice chided.

Simon heard vague mutters of obedience before he felt his arm being strained again.

“Alright kid, since I’m feeling so nice, I’ll give you a chance to redeem yourself. Answer the question and you’ll be on your way,” The man sneered. Simon could hear muffled snickers behind him, but couldn’t quite get the angle to look. “What is the little punk’s real name.”

He knew he should be sizing up the scene and determining the best course of action, but goddamn his arm hurt. He could feel every tendon being strained at the orientation the man had it at.

Still, no matter what, he wasn’t going to sell out Archie. Archie would come. He always did.

“N-No idea,” Simon spat, stomping on the man’s toe in an attempt to buck out of the hold.

Unfortunately, the man was still significantly stronger than Simon, so his attempt at retaliation only served in angering him further.

“You little—“ The man growled, before twisting Simon's arm and yanking it fully out of its socket.

Simon let out a stuttering wail as the pain temporarily blinded him. Suddenly, his head was being slammed against the wall again and he couldn’t figure out what was hurting more now: his head, his arm, or his stomach.

He was almost sure he was done for, until he heard a familiar shout and the sound of a fist connecting with a face.

Took him long enough.

Simon let himself slide down the wall once the man was pulled off of him, cradling his aching shoulder as he watched. Through hazy vision, he saw Archie made quick work of the lackeys. It was a flurry of hollers and yelps and limbs flying, but eventually, Archie emerged unscathed and rushed right over to Simon.

“I’m so sorry I was late! I was working, and I didn’t see the alert and— oh god, your arm!” He blurted, hands awkwardly hovering over Simon, a complete contrast to the ruthless machine he had been not a few seconds earlier.

Simon wanted to be mad, he really did. The emergency alert was there for a reason, after all. But how could he stay angry when Archie was looking at him with such sincere concern and regret. Simon sighed.

“It’s not as bad as it looks.. it’s dislocated, but I’m pretty sure it’s not broken so we won’t need to go to the hospital,” Simon explained.

Archie gave a small huff of relief.

“You do, however, need to help me pop it back into place.”

Archie blanched.

“Pop it back into place?! Isn’t that dangerous?! I don’t know what I’m doing!” He babbled.

“Relax, I’ll walk you through it. It’s not that hard. You just have to kinda.. push it until it feels right. I’ll let you know,” Simon replied, absurdly calm for the situation at hand.

“..Ok..”

Simon carefully instructed Archie on where to place his hands and where to push in, and after a bit more coaxing, they were ready.

“Alright. Don’t give me a countdown. You have to just do it, or else I might tense up involuntarily and that could— URGH!”

A sickening snap reverberated from Simon’s offending limb.

“Sorry! I’m sorry! You said not to give you a countdown!” Archie mewled, pulling his hands away as if he’d just been burned.

“It’s fine.. it’s.. I’m good.. you did good,” Simon placated, squeezing his eyes shut at the lingering pain.

“Okay.. okay, that’s done. We should get you back to your apartment and patched up.. that black eye looks.. pretty rough..”

“Don’t I know it..”

Archie tenderly helped Simon to his feet, and supported the taller’s man weight with ease.

“Thanks for not, uh, selling me out by the way..” Archie murmured, as they began their arduous journey back to Simon’s home.

“Well, what type of ‘inconspicuous medical student’ would I be if I just went around telling everyone how I ‘aid the activities of a notorious vigilante’?”

“...You’re an idiot.”

Simon grinned. Yep. All worth it.

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

#whump prompt #prompt fill #whumpblr #whump community #caretaker turned whumpee #whump #shoulder dislocation #medical inaccuracies #they are so silly i love my boys #pls ignore grammar and spelling errors i wrote this very quickly #because i was excited #simon and archie

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aquarii-if · 4 days

Note

Hi, I really liked your game! My favorite character so far is Vega, I’m interested to learn more about them. I have a couple of notes/questions.

First, when you meet your godly parent, they refer to you as “$lastname.” I assume this is because I never had the option set a surname during my playthrough; the option to tell the kidnappers your name only sets your first name, and both choices when you meet Estelle and Amare lead to your character refusing to give their last name, saying "I think my first name will suffice for now."

Second, is there a reason that if you decide Liviana should know about the mind control, you have to tell her right there and then, directly in front of Vega? My immediate instincts during that scene were to play along during that conversation and then pass on that information later in private, either during the security meeting or afterwards when MC is hanging out alone with Liviana. There’s no reason to think that telling her in the moment would change anything about the current situation, or that this is your only opportunity to speak to her, right? Vega already said that there’s not enough evidence for Liviana to arrest them, and Izar just told you you’re free to go. MC doesn’t indicate any doubt or suspicion about either of these things, and isn’t characterized as a particularly brash or impulsive person that would still blurt it out regardless.

Especially if MC has been acting cooperative with Vega and Izar so far, they seem willing to trust you and talk about their plans. It seems like an unforced error to immediately play your hand 30 seconds later and lose that potential tactical advantage, letting the ‘enemy’ know both your true allegiance and what intel you’ve gotten from them. There doesn’t seem to be a clear in-world reason why you can’t try to play both sides for a while, or even just test the extent of Vega’s control/access; If MC betrays them in private, but Vega still seems to know about it the next time they meet, that would be a good indicator of some form of spying/surveillance. I totally get if that’s not what you’re going for though, it’s just what I thought while I was reading!

This is a long post, so I put it under the cut.

1. Thank you for pointing that out to me, that’s a bug. I’ll send out a bug fix for that later. Apologies.

2. I want to preface this by saying this is not a permanent choice. MC will have the multiple other chances to tell Liviana about it in private without Vega knowing. Now, onto your question. If you choose not to tell Liviana, MC states that it’s because they don’t want to ruin Vega’s trust in them and also because they’re aware they don’t have any proof for their claim. Yes, they feel guilty afterwards, but that’s a natural feeling when you’re withholding information that could potentially help keep someone out of jail. MC does not have another chance to tell Liviana as she is more concerned with the meeting with the guards and making sure MC is safe. Maybe they could’ve told her in the aircraft, but if they wish to continue having a positive relationship with Vega, then telling Liviana that information right in front of the driver who is clearly on Vega’s side is probably not the best idea. The conversation after the meeting wasn’t very long, MC was still recovering after everything that just transpired, and didn’t have a chance to talk about any of it because they were interrupted by the announcement.

3. As for why the MC can decide to shout it out then, it’s an option for the MC to be more impulsive. They can cooperate with Vega and Izar, yes, but at that point MC is with people they feel safer around, and has no reason to continue going along with Izar and Vega if they have no interest in playing for both sides. If they wish to make it clear they side with Aquarii, this is the perfect chance to do so.

If you’re wondering why the allegiance stat goes down even if you plan on telling Liviana later, that stat is purely based on the other characters opinions of you, as well as the groups they stand for. In that moment, Vega took MC’s silence as them siding with Chronos. Thats just how Vega is, they’re quite irrational and impulsive. You’ll win those points back if you tell her later. Liviana on the other hand will not have any negative reaction if you decide to tell her during your second chance of informing her of Vega’s misdeeds. After that, however, you do risk a relationship drop with her.

Hope this could clear things up for you, I understand if you don’t agree of my reasoning here, but this was my thought process while writing the scene. Thank you for your insight and your praise, as well as the notice about the bug, sorry about that again! ❤️

#aquarii #asks

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pianocat939 · 2 years

Note

Great Celina!! I have came far and wide to ask you ... HCs/theories on Yandere big mama BUT! He was raised by big mama instead of splints ~ 👀 love to see what you come up with

Hello traveler from afar! I shall heed your request!

Tw: Leo tries to eat bugs, betrayal, manipulation, murder and kidnapping at the yandere part (it's towards the bottom)

Theory on Leo if Big Mama was his Parent

(Now before we actually begin I assume you’re talking about Leo because I did briefly touch on a former post about it but if you were talking about all 4 I apologize.)

The only possible way I can see Leo being even in Big Mama's clutches in the first place is if Lou Jitsu dropped him on accident while trying to escape Draxum's lab. It can be both in the yokai or human world but either way, bro got left behind.

Big Mama finds a poor turtle baby and decides to take him home since there was no one to keep her company after Lou went dashy-dash on her. And guess what, she is a surprisingly great mom.

Spiders are known to just straight up leave their babies as soon as they are born, but as she is a yokai, not an animal, so she has empathy for infant Leo. She would do the things that society would consider a "loving mother". Although some of her spider behaviour does change a few things: she feeds him bugs, nips him lightly if she's in her spider form, and carries him around in her silk threads.

Oh, and he picks up her accent lmao.

By the time he's a child/pre-teen stage, he is 100% brat. He'll mess up his mummy's hotel decorations, steals food from the chefs, and do anything a child can think of. But there's one thing that's the most important in this stage, his development of manipulation. Not only is he the son of the owner of Grand Nexus Hotel, but he is also a child. And children can get away with anything if they use the right words.

Whenever he causes mischief and someone tries to report him on it, he'll do puppy eyes with a hint of sadness in his voice, and before you know it, he deceives the staff member. This lets him get away a few times until Big Mama notices his talent with words.

She starts giving him little tasks such as "Try to get that dealer to give you that fruit for free," or "Have that little boy let you play with his toys". This slowly starts turning gears in Leo's head and by the time he's a teen he helps his mummy out in "assisting" customers.

So the day when the turtles meet Big Mama, imagine their surprise when they see another turtle dressed in fine formal wear. The other 3 boys always heard stories from Splinter about how they had a missing brother that has red marks on his face. There was no possibility that he isn't their brother.

As expected, Mikey runs up to him in a big hug, which is lightly shrugged off by Leo as he thinks Mikey is just another customer. He's bombarded with questions from Donnie and Mikey but he waves his hand and walks off, stating he needs to attend to his job.

Skip forward to the time Big Mama reveals her yokai form and the two groups start fighting. Midway through the battle, Leo attacks one of them, most likely Donnie as he is the easiest to target. Donnie feels betrayed and painstakingly says 'brother' but Leo only laughs and retorts he's not their brother.

So now he's their eternal enemy.

Ok now for some Yandere Hcs because that's my job now.

He's not too different when compared to his normal counterpart but there are a few noticeable changes in his personality.

He tends to do some more indirect actions such as having hitmen, or throwing people in the Battle Nexus whenever there's a rival. If he's really feeling murderous though, he'll fight them right in the arena.

He doesn't have an "I feel useless" problem like normal Leo either. Instead, he has a more possessive and "what would you do without me" type of thing.

If he is to kidnap MC, they're going to be trapped in the Hotel as that is where he is often times and the security guards/cameras are everywhere (the staff does not want to upset Big Mama's son, he has a horrible temper if things don't go as planned).

If I were to summarize everything, he's a mix of normal Leo and Donnie.

——————————————————

Something tells me he would try to crawl around like a spider as a kid.

- Celina

#yandere x reader #yandere #yandere rottmnt #yandere tmnt #rottmnt #tmnt #rottmnt x reader #tmnt x reader #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rise of the tmnt #tmnt2018 #leo

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damnation-if · 2 years

Text

so, i’ve been putting off writing this post for a while, telling myself that i didn’t really need to do it and everything would turn out fine but honestly. some of the asks i’ve been getting recently have been very upsetting to me personally and they’re sort of mounting up in my inbox and making it feel not very pleasant so i thought i’d just. get this post out of the way...

since the demo was released i’ve been getting an increasing number of asks that seem as though they’re designed to try and push me away from including polyam options in the game or attempt to try and goad me into admitting that the ROs prefer monogamy and consider any polyam relationships “lesser” than “proper” monogamous relationships.

this has ranged from direct criticism of my characters (”don’t you think it’s unfair that Lithiana won’t give up sleeping around and become monogamous if mc is romancing her”) to what i’m sure are intended to be subtle attempts at manipulation (”don’t you think it would be Healthier for [RO] if they were monogamous so that they could Know that mc Truly loves them and Only them and they’d be so much happier in that kind of relationship”) to attempting to shame other players for being happy about polyam options being included.

that last bunch really, really hurt me. i get a not insignificant amount of asks from people being happy that polyam options are included or that they simply won’t be shamed for being promiscuous but i’ve gradually. stopped answering these because i almost always get an ask shortly afterwards that reads something like “i do [rephrasing of something that was mentioned in the original ask] ONLY with [their favourite RO who i won’t drag into this], because i’m a GOOD LOVER ;)” and it feels like absolute crap, every time. (and of course tumblr being tumblr blocking this anon ask sender simply doesn’t work, because Webbed Site 🙄)

i’ve seen authors get backlash for including (and especially Adding) polyam routes and readers getting possessive over “their” ROs but i never realised people were just as mad about the. idea that other players could be doing non-monogamous things elsewhere and not being shamed for it. and that... really boggles my mind and saddens me a lot.

to the what i assume to be minority of people for whom stuff other players are doing is apparently a problem, i hope you can understand that other players being polyamorous doesn’t affect your playthrough of the game in any way, and there’s no need to just. be mean to them about it. and if you’re actually mad simply because people aren’t ashamed of being polyamorous well... that’s pretty cruel, i have to say, and we probably wouldn’t get along if we knew each other, because i’m also polyamorous. i’d appreciate it if you’d stop trying to use me as a platform to shame other polyam people, and maybe just unfollow if it bothers you so much.

to the people who have sent asks that mention or talk about monogamy in a sensible non-judgy way who may have noticed me not answering them - i’m sorry, i haven’t felt like answering these for a bit due to the other batch of asks and me feeling icky at the idea of galvanising the other group despite there being nothing wrong with your asks in particular. i’ll probably keep them in my inbox and maybe answer them in a while if this dies down.

to everyone else, thank you for supporting me and i’m sorry to have to talk about this but it’s really been bugging me recently lmao. i appreciate each and every one of you that Isn’t sending me these asks lmfao<3

#posts from the mortal world #long post.#sigh... will anyone read this who knows. i know it's long but Man. i had a lot to say i guess #anyway none of this has changed my stance on anything. Obviously. it's just making the blog an unpleasant task for me #i think this is one thing the people sending these kinds of asks don't get #you're more likely to cause an author to give up on a game than. comply with your demands lmfao #edit: I TALKED SO MUCH I FORGOT TO BRING UP THE PERSON WHO SAID THEY WERE 'HORRIFIED' BY CASUAL SEX OUTSIDE A RELATIONSHIP #buddy if you're horrified by sex outside the bounds of christian marriage why are you playing a game about demons #😭 please...

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wedontdeservethestars · 2 years

Note

hii!!!! assuming ur still takin requests for that writing game, could u do cingulomania w/ ethan winters?

LOVED the heisenberg one btw I'm abt to reblog it and express my adoration for ur writing it is soo good <333

and so u don't have to go look through that whole big post, here's the definition for u :] "cingulomania: a strong desire to hold a person in your arms."

Hi there! First off I am SO sorry for how long this took for me to churn out, this ask got sent around the time I started tech week at my college for a show and then, of course, the show itself overtook my life. Oops lol....anyhow!! I decided to go a more hurt/comfort route with this so it got a little angsty, hope that's okay!! Still has a happy end (because God knows our poor guy Keithan Splinters deservers it..)

Also plot note: reader somewhat takes the place of Mia in the Resident Evil timeline (sorry babygirl), this drabble takes place post-RE8

CW for themes of identity crisis, self-hatred, and things like the such

((Send me a vocab word and a resident evil character and I’ll write a little drabble!!))

“Can you hold my hand? Please?”

Ethan’s tone surprised you. You yourself felt rather sunny. It was hard not to, what with the baby blue sky brushed with cottony clouds and a summer breeze that just tickled your skin enough to be pleasant on such a warm day. The scent of fresh sandwiches and fruit slices and homemade cheesecake (Ethan’s favorite) wafted by on the wind. What made the day even more perfect was that the two of you had somehow managed to secure this spot alone. Despite the field you settled your picnic in being near a public hiking trail, there wasn’t another soul in sight. Usually Ethan enjoyed this. People weren’t his thing, especially not as of late. He much preferred spending his time with just you and Rose, who was fast asleep in her baby basket beside the two of you, her little nose scrunching up when it caught pollen on the breeze.

The day itself was planned out as perfectly as you could hope. Along with lunch, you packed books and a deck of cards to play with later on and you wore a neat little outfit. Ethan was dressed similarly in a blue-dotted button-up and earthy slacks, but despite his trimmed appearance, you could tell how distressed he was. That, and the mere cadence of his request. He seemed so despondent. He had been, ever since returning from Europe to the states. You really couldn’t blame him, after what he’d endured just to get Rose back. It wasn’t like you hadn’t been through a lot, either, but Ethan had arguably suffered just as badly, if not more.

Especially since he learned of his genetic reform.

“Sure, bug,” you murmured, stretching your hand towards him.

Ethan, with glazed eyes that couldn’t quite reach yours, grazed his skin against your fingers. You pulled him fully into your grasp. He didn’t feel cold, but he definitely didn’t feel as warm as you expected him to. He just felt stagnant.

“You okay?” you poked, searching his face for any hint of what turmoil lied behind it.

“Mm.” Ethan replied curtly. You sighed. By now, you were used to his non-responses, but it didn’t change the fact that you were still saddened that he wouldn’t talk to you.

“That doesn’t sound very okay,” you murmured, trying to be gentle but also, and quite frankly, fed up with him closing you off like you hadn’t been married for literal years.

When Ethan remained silent, you felt your heart sink like stone and let go of his hand–that is, until he tightened his own grip. When you looked back at him, there was the unmistakable red glow of tears threatening at the corners of his eyes. Immediately, you felt bad for dismissing him before.

“Ethan?” you asked.

“I’m afraid.”

You brushed a stray tuft of blonde hair from his face. “Of what, darling?”

This time, in addition to a trembling breath, you got a full sentence. “What if I’m not me anymore?”

A frown tugged at your lips. “Of course you’re you. What are you talking about?”

“I’m not human anymore.” Ethan’s voice was quiet. It was tinged with palpable tension.

“You’re human enough,” you assured him. “Maybe not anatomically. But you can still move and talk and think, can’t you? And love.”

“And hurt.” It sounded like something was stuck in his throat. “I-I don’t know what I am anymore.”

“You’re Ethan,” you said decisively. “Nothing else matters. You still feel like yourself, right?”

“I don’t know.” Ethan looked up at you suddenly, his piercing eyes wide and wild. “I don’t remember how I’m supposed to feel. Do you know how many times I’ve been cut and stabbed and shot and-and ripped apart, only to be-to be fucking stitched back together like some freakish monster? I haven’t felt like anything but a monster for years!”

A silence had overcome you. Even the gentle sound of the breeze felt like an intruder. You wet your lips and averted your gaze. Ethan had let go of your hand again at was staring at his wrist. The first place he’d been destroyed.

“I’m…sorry,” you finally settled on. What else were you supposed to say?

“You weren’t supposed to know that,” he said.

“Why not?”

“Because you can’t fix it. Fix me.” You watched his fingers flex back and forth. You could still make out the numerous scars and scratches forever etched deep into the fungal layers of his skin, even if they had grown fainter with time.

“You’re right.”

Ethan looked at you, startled at your agreement.

“I can’t,” you continued. “I don’t think anyone can fix you. I think that you have changed. But so have I. And so has Rose…all of us are different after the Baker house, and the village, and Evelyn, and…everything. Did I ever tell you about my nightmares?”

“Your…nightmares,” Ethan wracked. You laid your hand over his.

“I dream about the Bakers every night. Even after all this time, I still see them in my mind. That’s my scar.”

“You…” His mouth had gone dry. Feeling like you had guilted him a little harder than you meant to, you backtracked.

“My point is, we’re both different people. But what matters is that, in the most important ways, we’re still the same. I still love you, just like when we met. I hope you love me the same.”

“I do,” he said quickly. “More than anything.”

“So you’re still Ethan.” Your hands gravitated towards his strong jaw, and you smiled. For the first time in a long time, you saw a lightness enter his eyes.

“Maybe…” It wasn’t a full confirmation. But it was something.

“Besides,” you teased lightly, “I like all of your scars. Makes you look like an action hero.”

“Gee, thanks. I’ve always wanted to be one of those stunt guys.”

“There he is,” you giggled. “There’s that sarcastic guy I fell in love with.”

Ethan huffed, but the deep creases of his face had softened, and you aided their slack with a kiss to a pink cut across the bridge of his nose.

“But seriously,” you murmured as you laid your lips along the other marks on his face, “I will kiss every single scar and scrape on your beautiful body if I have to.”

“And what would that prove, hm?”

“That I’ll never stop loving you. No matter what you look like, or what you are, or whatever’s going on with you. You are so, so perfect, Ethan Winters. And I love you more than anything on this godforsaken earth, even if it doesn’t seem to love you back.”

Ethan chuckled softly and squeezed your hands.

“Thank you, honey.” He planted a kiss just on your forehead, and you smiled. “I love you, too.”

#poor poor ethan #boy deserves some kissies #i would very happily kiss his scars btw i love ethan #wedontdeservethefics #ethan winters #ethan winters x reader #resident evil #resident evil village #resident evil 8 #re8 #re7 #resident evil 7 #resident evil biohazard #re village #re biohazard #re ethan #re ethan winters #vocabulary event

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strwberri-milk · 2 years

Text

A Kiss of Wine

Uni!AU || Kaeya x Reader || Fluff, First Meetings || 3 048 words

A game of spin the bottle with this stranger you've just met surely can't go that bad can it?

a/n: why is this in times new roman???? idk i kinda lke it though also i love the idea of this so i whipped it up a while ago to fulfill that self indulgence lol -- nvm it didnt post as times new roman

Loud music thuds against your head, words barely made out over some heavy bass that rivals the beating of your heart as you follow your friend Yoimiya leading you through the large house. You had said yes only after being worn down over the course of several days and are about to remind your companion of the fact when you realise she’s slipped into the crowd just to leave you all alone.

A sigh passes your lips and you head outside through one of the large back doors, glad that the weather was nice enough that refreshments are being kept away from the suffocating heat of all the people inside. You don’t really mind the atmosphere. There was a chance it could be fun to talk to all of these people but you’d like to be able to get a drink or snack without worrying about being knocked over. Luckily, you did think that you saw some familiar faces as you made your way out, making a mental note to go back and confirm who those people were.

With a drink now in your hand you give yourself a minute to recollect yourself, glad that you found something non-alcoholic on the table. It’d be better to keep a clear head, especially since you had no idea if Yoimiya would be far too distracted to come back and get you without you texting her first.

You pull out your phone, about to text her about the fact that she’s abandoned you when someone walks into your field of view. Well, more like blocks it. A shadow is cast over you and without looking up you simply move aside, assuming that they just wanted to grab something from behind you. When they don’t seem to be leaving you alone you decide instead to look up, shooting an apologetic smile just in case you’ve slighted them.

“Sorry for getting in your way. I’m just trying to text someone,” you laugh nervously, not sure what else you could do.

The stranger chuckles and you find yourself drawn into his heterochromic eyes, one slightly hidden by his bangs. His voice is smooth and he leans against the table of refreshments, not seeming to care at all if the drinks fall over. It’s casual and you find yourself significantly less nervous at the prospect of talking to him, seeing as he hasn’t done anything that makes you feel sketched out. That, and the fact that he was incredibly attractive definitely helped his case.

“I wasn’t trying to grab anything,” he responds, more focused on you.

“I just had a thought that I’m not too sure who you are, so you must be new. Who do you know here? Don’t worry – you’re not going to get kicked out or anything if you give a “wrong” answer.”

He looks at you expectantly as you try to explain yourself, wishing Yoimiya was here to talk you out of the situation.

“Well, you see I was just invited here by a friend. She was bugging me for days to come and I decided it’d be much easier for me to tag along rather than deal with her pouting about how I made her come here by herself.”

“Oh? Who’s the friend?” He raises a brow, almost as though he doesn’t believe what you’re saying to him.

“I don’t know if you know her. Her name is Yoimiya. She’s friends with Ayaka who’s brother is apparently friends with someone who’s throwing the party so I guess she decided that was close enough for us to come since it’s not exactly invite only.”

You notice you’re beginning to ramble, closing your mouth to avoid making a fool of yourself. He doesn’t seem bothered at the very least which is good. It doesn’t seem as though you’ve made the social blunder you’ve worried about just quite yet and you’re waiting to see him respond, watching him as though you could see his thoughts.

“Oh? That sounds like it’d be Ayato’s little sister. Yeah, I know him. Doesn’t seem nice of your friend to leave you here all alone. How about you come with me and hang out with some of the others?”

A part of you knows that saying yes to the charming stranger is an absolutely horrible idea, vaguely aware that this is how horror movies start. But, you know for a fact that hanging out with someone who seems as interesting as he does entices you so.

You must seem incredibly hesitant because the man looks to have immediately picked up on something, putting his hands up.

“I promise I won’t take you anywhere sketchy! Just upstairs. My friends and I wanted to play a game with some people and get away from the crowd,” he says suddenly, making you laugh.

“It’s not that. I just don’t know who you are. Wouldn’t it be awkward to just interrupt your game?” you ask, wanting to give him an out just in case he didn’t actually mean it.

“No, it’s fine! Don’t worry about it. Follow me, alright?”

He offers his hand with a sweet smile, clearly hoping you’ll take it from him. Deciding that it’d probably help you more than hurt you, you allow him to take you away, putting your palm in his.

It takes him no time to lead you to your destination, easily slipping through the massive corridors of the property. Once you get to what looks like a spare room he throws the door open with a grin, inviting you to sit down as he joins the floor with a group of other people. They all look at you curiously and thankfully without any malice.

“Who’s this?” a blond woman asks, looking to your companion. “Is this another friend of yours Kaeya?”

The man, now presumably Kaeya, looks over at his friend, slowly realising he never asked for your name. He looks at you sheepishly, gesturing to the group.

“Well, they looked lonely by themselves at the drinks table when I saw them so I decided to bring them here. I’m sure none of you mind, right?”

The woman sighs slightly, leaning over a little to offer a handshake.

“I’m Jean. Sorry for getting wrapped up in Kaeya’s antics. Don’t worry though – he means no harm.”

A man sitting next to her scoffs, rolling his eyes. You’re taken aback by just how vibrant his red locks are, curling in just the perfect way to frame his handsome features. A quick look around makes you feel almost as though you’re sitting in a room of models, feeling severely outclassed in your more casual clothes.

“You might think that but I know better. Kaeya’s an absolute menace.” Despite the harsh words you can hear an underlying tone of warmth, the corner of his lips trying not to quirk up in a slight smile.

“Don’t be so rude Diluc! I’m just making new friends. Ajax, you don’t think that about me do you?” Kaeya implores, looking to his other side at another ginger. This one looks a lot kinder than the former, a wide grin on his face.

“I think it’s a great idea! Besides, if they were standing alone then I’m sure that it’s because they don’t know anyone. Let’s just quickly go around the circle and introduce ourselves first.” Something about the way he speaks makes you feel like he knows something you don’t, the smile on his face a little too excited at the prospect of meeting you.

Everybody nods and they do as Ajax says. The feeling only deepens as they all look at you attentively, the only person unwilling to look at you at the moment being Kaeya. When the introductions are all done one of the women, Lisa, grabs a bottle from behind her, gesturing for you to move and sit next to her.

“Why don’t we play an innocent little game? Spin the bottle? It’s much more fun than whatever you were all doing earlier.”

Noises of agreement sound out after her suggestion and despite your initial reservations you nod in agreement as well. As soon as she gets everyone’s permission, Lias puts the bottle down in the center of the circle, immediately looking over to Kaeya.

“Well now, since you’re the one who’s throwing this party why don’t we let you do the honors? First spin?”

“What are the rules? Just a peck on the cheek or something else?’ he asks as he leans forward, placing his hand on the bottle.

“Why don’t we mix it with 7 minutes? Just go to the room next door, have your way with each other, then come back!” she suggests.

You decide that sounds a little too much for you, about to back out when you’re interrupted by Kaeya’s voice.

“Oh? Fascinating. That sounds like it’d be fun. Sure, why not?”

The bottle spins with a flick of his wrist and he sits back on his palms, looking almost bored as he watches where the head of the bottle will land. You watch it nervously, unsure of what you’ll do if it lands on you. Thankfully, it doesn’t seem to, instead landing on the space between you and Lisa. You expect him to spin the bottle again when he reaches for it, eyes widening as you watch him adjust the bottle to point at you.

Your eyes flick up to his face, not sure what expression you thought you’d meet. The smirk feels like it’s commonplace from the little you know of him, the way he sits back on his hands so casually making your heart skip a beat. You’re struck with the thought that he’s hot and he knows it, easily keeping your attention on him.

“Well, I guess fate’s determined you’ll be coming with me,” he says cheekily, standing up in a manner you can only describe as elegant.

“Wait that’s cheating isn’t it?” you say once you’ve gotten out of your stupor, looking around to see if anyone will back you up. Instead, they all seem to be going to their own conversations, just glancing over at you.

“If you don’t want to go, that's okay,” Kaeya says from the door, crossing his arms as he leans against it.

“I won’t make you come with me if you don’t want to.”

“Seriously,” one of the other blonds, Tohma, says. “If you don’t want to play with us just say so and you can just watch if you want to stay.”

There doesn’t seem to be any malice in the air and with a bit of internal deliberation you decide it won’t hurt. After all, you’re sure if you screamed everyone in this room would be able to hear you. Besides, there’s something about the way the man looks at you that makes you want to know what he wants, nodding dumbly as you follow him down the hall to the room next door.

As soon as the two of you get into the room he closes the door after you. Nervously, you sit on the bed, waiting to see if he’ll approach you himself. It doesn’t take him long to close the gap between you two, stepping between your knees and resting his arms on your shoulders. You’re forced to look up at him, the intense look in his eye making you swallow harshly.

“Are you okay with this?” he asks softly,

“What do you mean? You’re the one who put me here,” you huff, leaning back a little from his imposing aura.

“Well, I did but now that we’re here I can’t help but feel a little concerned for you. You didn’t exactly seem like you wanted to come here with me…”

His words trail off as he looks to the side, clearly finding this conversation more than just a little awkward. You wonder where his previously suave persona’s gone and it’s only now that you begin to recognise just how warm his body is this close to yours. You look up at him, tilting your head curiously when you realise he’s refusing to look at you.

“Well, it can be intimidating to be kept in a room by yourself with someone like you,” you respond, hoping that the words come out smoother than they feel. He’s definitely heard it before so you don’t have too many hopes that it’ll catch him off guard.

“Really?” he replies quickly, finally meeting your gaze with a hint of shyness.

“Honestly, I don’t know if I should say this but I do actually know who you are. I was hoping you’d come today since I heard you’d said you would. I just played dumb because I didn’t want to scare you off.”

“How do you know me?”

His confession makes it easier for you to talk to him, no longer nearly as nervous as you were before. Nothing in him makes you feel like you’re being deceived and his comforting weight on your body lulls you even further into his security, smiling to yourself as he tries to piece together his words.

“We have a class together. I don’t think you know because I sit in the middle of the hall. I guess you can say I’ve developed a bit of a crush on you and all my friends keep teasing me about it.”

Suddenly, everything seems to click in place as you realise that must be why everyone was looking at you so expectantly. He must have told them you’d be coming and somehow they managed to convince him to go and talk to you. They were expecting for this all to happen, perhaps even rooting for it if he was as into you as he’s claiming to be. Not only that, but the way he’s started to avoid eye contact with you again seems to prove your point.

“You like me?” you ask anyway, wanting an answer for yourself.

“A lot. Even though we don’t really know each other, just observing you in class has made me want to get to know you more,” he admits, bringing his hands back to cup your face.

“You are so brilliant, I can tell from the way you talk when we do group work, or the presentations we had to do earlier. But it’s a little difficult to focus on your words when all I want to do is kiss you.”

Your eyes widen as his eyes fall onto your lips. He gently brushes his thumb over your bottom lip, looking back up at you.

“This entire time all I’ve wanted to do is kiss you but I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. I want to know what kind of face you’ll make.”

Kaeya pulls you off the bed with a soft grasp, gently leading you to stand against a wall. It’s clear what he wants from you, even if he didn’t just say it to you but you still can’t help but shake slightly under his intense gaze, eyes hooded as a hand goes down to rest on your waist. Your breath hitches as he leans down closer to you, using his free hand to tilt your chin up.

“May I?” he asks against you, breath tickling your lips.

“Yes,” you breathe, gasping when he presses his lips to yours.

His kiss starts off gently as though he was just testing the waters. Despite that, there was an air of urgency you could feel within him holding back. The fingers at your waist press into your skin, the sensation not yet painful, as is the fingers on your chin. His lips caress yours with a practiced motion, but it doesn’t seem to be enough for him.

He presses into you a little harder, making your mouth open in another gasp that allows his tongue to slip in. You hear the dull thud of his arm moving to rest against the wall, now moving his other hand to wrap around your waist and pull you taut against his body. You can feel all rational thought leaving your mind as he presses the contours of his body against yours, losing yourself in him. He kisses you with a passion you don’t know how to return but it doesn’t seem like he cares, slight pants mixed in with his light groans of approval churning your stomach with desire. It stokes a fire inside of you, desperately pulling against the back of his shirt and shuddering when you accidentally tug on his hair instead of fabric.

“Why you-” he growls huskily, pulling apart just to push you back down onto the bed and crawl back over your body to kiss you just as hard as he was before.

“I want you so bad,” Kaeya groans, letting his hands gently prod against the waist of your pants.

“But not here, not like this.”

You feel yourself only slightly come out of the daze when he sits up, running his fingers run though his hair as he catches his breath. You have no idea how much time has passed, caught between the weight of his body and the cloud of desire and reach out to grab him, wanting to return to that dizzying high when a harsh knock sounds against the door.

“It’s been way over seven minutes! Are you two alive?” someone calls from the other side, making the man above you roll his eyes.

“It’s my house so I get to do whatever I want. Just stay here darling and I’ll take care of our distractions, okay?”

The only response you can offer is a dumb nod, watching as he opens the door to tell them off. You lay back down, trying to regain your balance when you feel a weight dip down on the mattress next to you, yelping when he grabs you and pulls you over his body. Instinctively your knees clasp around his hips, straddling Kaeya as he repositions you on top of him. Your eyes meet and his face goes back to that shit eating grin you’re growing to love as his gaze roams over your body. Kaeya lets out a low whistle once he’s done giving you a once over, only serving to further fluster you.

“I knew you’d look good on top of me. Now, let’s keep going, shall we?”

#kaeya x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader

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