#I wanna write the apology scene for sure

[lovelettersfromluna]

⋆｡˚☾ Silver Springs☽˚｡⋆

Summary: A step by step guide on how not to get over Ellie fucking Williams

an: AHHHH!! Here it is you guys! I wanna start off by thanking every single one of you for all the support not only did the first part of this series receive, but how much support my return received! I missed you all so so much and I’m so happy you’re enjoying this series just as much as I am enjoying writing it! I had some trouble tagging a few if you guys, as it wasn’t allowing your users to show up, so I really do apologize about that :( if any of you would like to dm me so we can solve it, feel free! I hope you all enjoy the second part to this series, and so much more is in store for this one! So stick around 🖤🖤🖤

Warnings: SMUT!!! 18+, MDNI, Alcohol and Marijuana usage, jealous!Ellie, slight asshole!Ellie, cheating, oral r!receiving, edging, fingering r!receiving, pet names, kissing, let me know if I missed anything!!

You can read part 1, here!

Tag list: @eveshyper @mattm1964 @teawithnosugar @macaroni676 @ximtiredx @gold-dustwomxn @mina-281 @aethelwyneleigh27 @abbysmainbitch @lil-elliesgf @franreadss @fairyysoiree @r3wbeef @liizzygrant @elliewilliamsgf69 @mabelle-cherie @cauliflowerpatch @forelliesposts @lunasolac @nil-eena @pillowprincessleia @pedropascalsbbg @ellieswifeyy @lesbiantothemoonandback @dummysimp011 @miniaturebananadefendor @sweetpumpkins @thesmutconnoisseur @miksde @delicategirlie

Ellie had always been possessive.

Over anything, really. Over her father, or her favorite forest green hoodie, or the bracelets you two made for each other when you were both in middle school. If it was hers in any way, there was a pretty good chance that she’d be possessive over it.

She was also, very possessive over you.

You never really noticed, mainly because she’s usually extremely discreet about it. Often time, it’ll go unnoticed by those around her, because Ellie knows not to make a scene over someone tugging you along to ride home with them after a party, or to have you stay in their bed instead of hers. And she only does it because you’re her best friend, not theirs. They shouldn’t be trying to take you anyways.

Yeah. That was the only reason.

So the shock you felt when she acted the way she did in front of Alex was something you’d never really seen before. Sure, your best friend had a temper. You couldn’t count on your hands how many times you had to talk down a very drunk Ellie from fighting some idiot jock because they told her she couldn’t beat them at arm wrestling, but that was stupid party banter. What happened at the beginning of class? That was just unwarranted.

And as much as you hoped it was simply Ellie being in a mood that morning, that wasn’t the end of it.

After that day in class, you and Alex grew nearly inseparable. You showed her around to all of her classes, she followed you to the library to study, and to the cafe to have lunch, she even ended up coming back to your apartment to play video games one night when your study session ran past the opening hours of the campus library. Days had gone by, and as much as you didn’t want to admit it, Alex had almost fully taken Ellie’s spot as your best friend.

But then again, Sofia took your spot too.

That was another thing, what used to be like pulling teeth to see your best friend after she had gotten herself a girlfriend, had suddenly taken a drastic change.

After the first initial situation with Alex, Ellie was suddenly almost always in the picture.

It first started with the text messages. When Ellie first started dating Sofia, there were only a few messages here and there, a few stupid tiktoks sent between one another, and the less than frequent plans that you’d try to make with each other that would almost always be cancelled due to last minute plans Ellie ended up making with Sofia.

Now? Now Ellie would text you all the time. She’d send you video after video telling you what kind of cat you were, or which season you were, and she’d make sure to never miss out on sending you pictures of her homework, asking you if it looked good enough to submit, and she was constantly trying to make more plans with you. It was just like how things were before Sofia, back when it was just you, and Ellie, and the little traditions that you and her had every weekend.

Only it wasn't just like those times...now she was...so much more.

It made things a bit awkward when you were studying with Alex one afternoon, the silence of you and her falling comfortably between the both of you as you simply scribbled notes in your books, enjoying each others company, when suddenly your phone went off. It was a message from Ellie.

Waddup dorrrrk

U busy tonight?

You frown softly as you look up from your phone, catching a glimpse of Alex's face as she types away at her computer before you looked back down at your phone, typing out a response to Ellie.

Yeah

prob gonna head home after this and sleep

wya?

library

lemme come pick you up then

no thats okay. Im with Alex

You stare down at your phone as you await a response from Ellie. you see her little chat bubble pop up, stay for a moment, and then disappear. It does this for a minute or two, and you know she's struggling to find the right words to say. She always does this whenever she doesn't know exactly what to respond with

u know Alex is a prick right?

what makes you say that?

she just is

mmm

good to know

ditch her for me

im not gonna do that

where's Sof?

at her dorm

cool

well I'll catch you later Ellie

Ellie never responded after that

and thats how things were for the most part. You would spend your time with Alex, and Ellie would try her best to intervene between that time that you spent with her. Whether it was swooping in and trying to pull you away from Alex while you were walking together, or blowing up your phone whenever she knew you were together, she’d make herself known.

And you still had that damn party to go to that following weekend

You let out a soft sigh as you stared at yourself in the mirror. Your hands came up, smoothing down the clothes that you had on. The strapless black top you wore hugged your middle perfectly, a contrast to the usual baggy, comfy clothes you wore, and the denim jeans hung low on your hip, hugging your curves perfectly. Your hair was styled, and your makeup was done, but you couldn’t help but pout softly at yourself, turning around and eyeing yourself in the mirror, shaking out your hair, pursing your lips together before releasing them.

God….you really didn’t wanna go to this party.

And you were very close to cancelling. You already had your excuse thought up too, you were going to text Ellie and tell her that you had come down with a cold, and that you couldn’t make it out tonight, that you’d catch her and Sofia at the next one.

But she was already pulling you aside after class to make sure you were going.

You were walking out of your last class for the day, the idea of the party on your mind the entire afternoon. You didn’t want to deal with Ellie, as bad as that sounded. She had been so weird ever since you and Alex became friends, and it bothered you how clingy she had suddenly become now that your time was suddenly taken up by someone else.

She was being possessive, and childish, and it wasn’t your job to make her feel better about you having other friends or apologizing for the fact that you were finally moving on-

“Hey! Hey wait up!” The familiar voice called out from behind you, and it almost made you wince. Ellie’s footsteps grew closer and closer as she ran behind you to catch up. You almost wanted to put your headphones on, a silent gesture that you didn’t want to deal with any of Ellie’s antics in that moment.

But she was still your best friend

You gave a tired smile once she finally catches up with you, and you can see the way her eyes twinkle the second she’s looking down at you. You figure it’s because she’s catching you on a rare moment when you’re not with Alex.

“There you are…” She mumbles softly, and you’re sure that if you weren’t so annoyed with her recent behavior, you’d be swooning over how fucking good she looked. Despite the fall weather, it was a bit warmer that day, so she opted for a loose fitted white t shirt, her signature baggy blue jeans, and of course her favorite rings. Her brown hair was tucked into a loose bun, and she wore a backwards faded maroon colored baseball cap.

Once again, Ellie Williams was a fucking dream.

“Here I am…” you mumble awkwardly, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear before you watch her, prompting her to get out whatever it was that she needed to talk about. Instead, she simply stares for a bit, seemingly taking in your appearance for a moment before she hums softly.

“No Alex today?” She questions, looking around to see if she just missed her. You could hear that tone in her voice, the one that was hopeful for a specific answer from you. You let out a soft sigh, shaking your head as you push past the doors of the building that lead to the campus courtyard. “She left early to run some errands” you explain, a soft frown on your face as you catch the familiar smug smirk of triumph on your best friends lips.

“You know she isn’t that bad, right? I think you two would get along…you have a lot in common” you tried, adjusting your bag on your shoulder as you looked up at Ellie.

It was true, Ellie and Alex were extremely similar. In the time that you’d been spending with Alex, there were frequent moments where you felt like you were with Ellie. Certain things she said or did, or the type of jokes she’d make, or the music she listened to. Hell, they even dressed similarly, you were sure that if they gave each other a shot, they’d become just as close, if not closer than you were with either of them.

Or should you rather say, if Ellie gave her a chance.

Your words make Ellie scoff, the girls veiny hands shoving into her pockets as she strolled along with you. “Get along? Yeah fuckin right…I’d rather drag my bare ass along the concrete than hang out with that moron” she huffed out, her words making you scrunch your nose in disgust at the vivid picture she was painting for you, meant to express her distaste for the girl.

“But why? You really don’t have any reason to hate her, Els…because she sat in your seat? You don’t even sit there anymore…” you mumbled the last part of your comment under your breath, your eyes trailing down towards your feet as you frown softly, thinking back to the times before Alex showed up. How lonely it was sitting alone, walking to and from classes by yourself, spending the weekends cooped up in your home with nothing to do, no one to talk to.

Ellie frowned with you, her own green eyes zeroing in on the ground similarly to the way you did as she found herself deep in thought. It confused her too, why it bothered her so much. When you’d ask, her excuse was that she just felt Alex was bad news, and that she didn’t want anyone taking advantage of you or ruining your friendship with her.

That was always her excuse.

She inhaled deeply, replacing her frown with a bright smile, almost as if she were trying to distract you from your question before she changed the subject entirely. “Do you know what you’re gonna wear tomorrow? I heard this parties gonna be fuckin dope” she breathed out, turning towards you and flashing her pearly whites.

It almost gives you whiplash. She’d done it before, completely disregarded your attempts at trying to figure out why exactly she hated Alex so much, wanting more of a reason beside Ellie’s ‘bad feeling’ about the girl. It made you feel even more confused and frustrated with her and how she was acting towards you.

But every time she flashed those pretty teeth your way, it was like your mind went blank.

You blinked a few times as you stared up at her, clearing your throat before your mouth started moving before your brain could properly form a the sentence you wanted to say. Which was something along the lines of ‘im not feeling well! I’ll probably skip this one’

But that isn’t what leaves past your lips.

“I’m uh…not sure yet. I guess you’ll see once I’m there” you breath out softly, followed by a soft chuckle that sounds similar to a sound of defeat, because that’s exactly what’s happened, you’ve been defeated. Ellie has once again wiggled her way into that little soft spot she knew she had for you, and managed to have her way with you, no matter how annoyed you were with her.

Ellie beams the second she heard your words, nodding as she gives you a nudge with her elbow. “That’s why I like to hear! Hey, I’ll text you, okay? Keep you updated on what’s happening” she promises, giving you a nod. Before you can respond, her phone vibrated in her back pocket, to which she pulled out to check it, and you already know who it is. It rips you away from the little interaction you’re having with her, and it makes you sigh softly as you give Ellie a soft nod. “I’ll see you there, Els” you promise, adjusting your bag on your shoulder before you began walking ahead of her.

“I’m pretty tired so…I’ll head home” you nod, not giving her anymore room to stick around and tell you how she can’t stay with you any longer because she has to meet Sofia somewhere. That hurts much more than whatever the hell it was that was happening between you and her within that moment. She watched you, opening her mouth to stop you from leaving but you were already giving her a small wave, paired with a soft smile as you began making your way home.

And that was that. You went home and spent the rest of the day hating the fact that you had said yes to Ellie. You hated that she still had this weird power over you to get whatever she wanted whenever she wanted it.

It’s how you found yourself staring blankly at yourself in the mirror, feeling ridiculous in your outfit, unable to even recognize yourself, and feeling even more ridiculous for going to the stupid party in the first place.

On your bed, you hear your phone buzz, and you already know who it is. You let out a soft huff, grabbing the platform sandals you had settled next to you in the mirror and sitting on your bed to put them on. You open up your messages to read through them while you do so.

yooooo

What time u want us to pick you up?

The messages make you frown, and for a minute your eyes trail towards the bubble at the very top of your phone, the one that has a silly picture of Ellie that you had taken of her when she was high out of her mind and babbling about something that was too incoherent to understand. Once you’ve put your shoes on, you grab the phone and begin typing out a message back to her.

sup

you guys head out without me, I’ll meet you there

huh?

I stg if ur flaking on me

I’m not

I’ll be there relax

ok who’s bringing you then?

The text makes you frown further, because you can practically hear the tone of accusatory thick within Ellie’s words from the text alone, and it pisses you off. Because why the hell would she be prying on who’s taking you to the party? And why does it even matter in the first place?

You sigh softly, eyeing the text for a few more moments before you stand up off the bed, shove your phone into your back pocket and leave your room to head out into your kitchen.

Once you’re there, you open up one of the highest cupboards, you’re glad that your sandals are platforms, because if they weren’t, you wouldn’t be able to reach the single bottle of tequila that sits at the very top of the cupboard. You huff in annoyance, because you can vividly recall the night you and Ellie bought the bottle. She was complaining about your lack of provisions, to which prompted the both of you to make a late night run to the liquor store to buy it. The only contents from the bottle that was missing was from that of which came from nights that you and Ellie wanted to let loose a bit, other than that, you never touched it. And with Ellie being Ellie, she made sure to tuck the bottle away at the very top of your cupboard with ease, where she knew you’d struggle to reach it, just so she could piss you off a bit.

Funny, Ellie seemed to always have a way of pissing you off.

When you finally managed to take the bottle down from the cupboard, you grabbed one of the only two shot glasses that you had in your house, the other belonging to Ellie, and you poured some of the clear liquid out for yourself.

Because lord knows with how this night was already going, you were going to fucking need it.

You threw it back, wincing as the vile liquid burned down your throat, making its presence in your body known as it traveled down into your stomach, settling in and making it feel as though a match was thrown into your body. Instantly, it was already making you feel looser, less tense, the worries you had about the party were still very much there, but they didn't seem to matter as much.

And when you heard the knock on your door, you knew your date was there to pick you up.

Did you end up inviting Alex to be your plus one to the party that Ellie invited you to? Yes.

Did this somehow morph into a date between you and Alex? Yes.

Did you know what you were getting yourself into by inviting Alex, knowing how much worse this would make things with Ellie? Sort of, but you couldn't really find it in you to care in that moment.

Not when Alex was showering you in compliments the second you opened the door for her. Not when Alex looked amazing in her outfit, and smelled even better, making you swoon for her the second she was wrapping her strong arms around your waist and guiding her out to your car. And definitely not when Alex's hand on your thigh on the way there was making your little heart flutter and dance, thanking the heavens above for granting you such a pretty girl to take along to this party with, and hopefully make it so that it wouldn't have the bitter ending of you sulking home while Ellie and Sofia made out in a random room, making it so that you were forced to catch the bus home.

Yeah, there was no way in hell you were letting Ellie ruin this for you.

It wasn't long until you both arrived at the house where the party was being held. Had it been any other day, the sight of drunk college kids, loud music, and the smell of beer and weed would have made you scrunch up your nose in disgust and walk back to your cozy little apartment, to make a warm cup of tea and cuddle up in your bed. But you were tipsy, you felt really fucking hot, and the longer Alex had her hands on you, the needier you felt.

It was time you finally give into the cliche world of being a college student, and lived a little. Because if not now, then when?

Alex had her hand slung loosely around your hips, her strong fingers slipped into your belt loop as she kept you close, toying with the soft sliver of skin that peeked out between the waist band of your jeans, and the bottom of your top. Upon walking into the house, you were glad to see that it wasn't a huge frat party. It was a bit more laid back, with the majority of the party goers splayed out within the living room, already having drunk or high conversations. Or they were in the kitchen, making drinks, or some even opted to head outside in the front yard or the back, the cold autumn air acting as an escape from the warmth that emitted from inside the house.

You feel glad that you don't spot Ellie and Sofia as soon as you walk in, knowing that, that was a confrontation that you were not drunk enough to face. You hum softly as Alex leans into you, your hand slipping down between the both of you as you interlock your fingers with hers, and drag her along to the kitchen.

That's how you find Alex pressed up against you, her strong hands resting against the edge of the counter top, hard chest pressing into your back, chin resting against your shoulder as she watches you pour out two drinks into red solo cups for you and her. She whispers sweet words in your ears, and to remember that she's driving you home, to make sure that you don't add any liquor to her cup. You giggle softly as you nod, melting into the girls touch, her soft caress and her even softer words. It's hard to remember the last time you were touched like this, given this sort of attention, told these sort of words. You figure that you could get used to it, especially when it's coming from her.

When you turn around in her arms, her hands are on your hips, giving them a slight squeeze as she smirks down at you. Both drinks are in your hand, and you simply stare up at her, your bottom lip tugged between your teeth, an overwhelming sense of warmth spreading throughout your chest, making it feel as though you could pounce this girl at any given moment-

And then it all stops.

Because suddenly, through the lust that you feel for Alex, your lips merely inches apart, the sound of someone clearing their throat somehow makes it through the music, cutting right in between the two of you and forcing you to look in the direction of where the sound was coming from, and you’re only met with Ellie.

A very angry, and annoyed, Ellie.

Her green eyes are dark, casted downward as she stares at you and Alex. She has a solo cup hanging loosely between her strong fingers, sharp jaw clenching as her eyes slowly drift between you and Alex, finally settling on you and giving you a look of disbelief, almost as if to ask if you were serious, and if this was some stupid fucking joke that you had.

And it’s so fucking awkward, that you have no choice but to break the silence.

“Ellie!” You chirp out, handing one of the cups to Alex before you turn to her, giving her an apologetic look, to which she simply sighs and gives you a nod before she briefly glares in Ellie’s direction.

You inhale deeply before you make your way over to your friend, clutching your cup slightly as you give her a smile. “Hey…sorry I didn’t come looking for you, did you and Sofia get in alright-“ Ellie immediately cuts you off, because you’re clearly trying to ease the burn of Alex being there, and you aren’t even sure why, because you truly don’t owe Ellie a single thing.

“What the fuck did you bring her for?” She gets straight to the point, and you can tell just how much she’s been smoking from her voice. It’s low, and rough, and if the way she was questioning wasn’t making you so fucking annoyed.

You would’ve been soaking wet just from the sound of it.

You raise your eyebrows in disbelief, a soft scoff leaving your lips as she give her a shrug. “Because I can? I didn’t know I was suddenly banned from bringing people places with me” you challenge her, your eyebrows furrowed as you stare up at the tall girl. Ellie chuckles softly, her tongue pressing against the inside of her cheek as she looks down at the floor before she nods slowly, smirking down at you.

“You know what? You can…don’t mind me” she hums out, a bit to casually for how angry she sounded mere moments ago. Her sudden change of tone makes you blink a few times, trying to see if you heard her correctly. You were convinced that this weird situation was going to turn into an argument, and you’d finally blow up on your best friend for acting fucking weird…

But that wasn’t at all what was happening.

“Oh…okay then…” you mumble out awkwardly, suddenly feeling small under Ellie’s gaze. Her eyes are low, and you can feel the way she’s eating you up, taking you in and shamelessly raking down every inch of your body with her emerald orbs that just seem different tonight than they have on any other night.

You both stay there for a few moments longer, and your skin begins to burn with the need to get away from the extremely awkward situation, making your mind cloudy with confusion as you’ve never once felt that way about Ellie. She’s a person you relate with the feelings of comfort, and warmth.

And now? You just needed to get away from her.

You inhale deeply, taking a large gulp of your drink that was far too strong, the contents burning your throat, which makes you wince as it travels down your body and settles in your stomach. You give Ellie a nod, clearing your throat as you avoid eye contact with her at all times. “Right, so….I’ll uh…I’ll catch you later” you try, giving your friend a half smile as you’re already making your way out of the kitchen to find Alex.

Ellie on the other hand? Simply gives you a slow nod, her eyes still shamelessly eating you up as you walk o it of the kitchen.

The only thing on your mind? Was that you needed to get drunk and forget about everything that just happened.

The laugh that leaves your body is almost too much to handle, your hand coming up to cover your mouth as you lean into Alex, your face mere inches from your neck as you rest your weight against her, your feet feeling wobbly underneath you. Her hand was placed loosely on your hip, smiling lazily as she watched you lose yourself at another one of the jokes she had made.

The night had carried on after the situation with Ellie in the kitchen. After that, you had quickly found your way to Alex, relief settling in once you were finally able to enjoy the party with your date. You two were stuck to each other like glue from that point on, the vibes of the party making it easier to loosen up around Alex and truly get to know her outside of an academic setting, which was the main place of your relationship with her thus far. However, there was a looming presence that you simply could not shake from your spot with Alex at the bottom of the stairs, tucked away from everyone else.

Ellie.

Her eyes never left yours from her point on the couch. A blunt was loosely hanging from her tattooed hand, lifting it up and taking a drag ever so often, a beer in the other, and to make things even worse? She had Sofia propped right on her lap the entire time she watched you.

And as much as you tried to ignore it? Ellie’s glares were lethal. She made no attempt in hiding it, or pretending like she wasn’t keeping an eye on you and Alex like a fucking hawk the entire night. After about the tenth time of catching her run her tongue along her teeth every time Alex tried getting closer, you’d had enough.

Its how you ended up in your current position. You had dragged Alex to the kitchen with you, and she had taken a seat on the island, where you made your own spot standing between her spread legs. The more you drank, the funnier Alex got, and you suddenly couldn’t breath every time she spewed another silly joke your way.

You hummed softly, coming down from your laughing fit and finally catching your breath. Alex smirked softly at you, watching as you tugged your bottom lip between your teeth, glossy eyes growing hazy, and giving the dreamiest look, strands of hair cascading down into your face, which made her push to the side to get a better look at you. It was like a movie, the universe setting up the most perfect time for you and her to finally do it, to finally break the barrier and press each others lips against one another…

But this isn’t a movie, and none of this is perfect.

You realize that, when you feel Alex’s body get shoved to the side, causing you to gasp softly and grip your cup a bit tighter, as well as grip Alex’s arm to make sure she isn’t pushed off of the island counter entirely. You’re ready to yell at whatever asshole made it a point to sit right next to you and Alex, when there’s not only an entire kitchen, but an entire house with thousands of other places to sit, because who on earth would do something so inconsiderate.

Ellie. Ellie Williams would.

Her laugh is something you’d always loved, when she was high, it was loud and boisterous and electrifying, and it had the power to make even the saddest person laugh. You especially loved it, when her voice would crack, and she’d shed a tear because whatever she was laughing at was far too much to handle.

But right now, in this very moment, her laugh was like nails on a chalkboard.

She laughs loudly, taking a seat right next to Alex on the island counter top, adjusting her worn out backwards baseball cap on her head, blunt perched between her lips, and taking a long drag before she blows the smoke right into Alex’s face. “Shit…my bad, man. I’ve just been looking everywhere for my two favorite people!” She chuckles out. Her words make you wince.

You’re frowning right at her, because you know exactly what she’s doing, her eyes are red, lips are plump and pink from all the biting and sucking she’d most definitely been doing, and her eyes never leave Alex’s, studying her face like she was a predator studying their prey, looking for all the flaws they could use to wiggle their way into the cracks.

And you realize, Ellie Williams was fucking cock blocking you.

You inhale deeply, trying to control your temper before you give Ellie a very exaggerated smile. “So nice of you to join us, Ellie….but I’m sure you have other things to do, why don’t you just…catch us later?” You try, your voice desperately trying to get Ellie away from the both of you, your eyes practically bulging out of your head as you try to silently tell your friend to leave.

But she ignores you completely.

Alex, being the angel that she is, simply chuckles softly as she shakes her head. “Not a problem…the more the merrier, right?” She nods, her words genuine. Her hand reaches down, wrapping around your waist and pulling you forward to be tucked into the side of her body, which warms you up.

A flash of anger ripples through Ellie’s expression, her face hard as she eyed the way Alex pulls you in before she quickly shakes it away, giving Alex a nod as she lifts the blunt to her lips once again. “You smoke?” She questions casually, her eyes drifting towards you for a brief moment before she blows the smoke away from you and Alex. Alex hums softly as she nods, “I do…but I’m DD tonight, so I’ve gotta pass” she politely declines, her long fingers rubbing a sliver of your exposed skin mindlessly.

Ellie rolls her eyes, giving a playful scoff “ahhh don’t be stupid, do you see this house? You and the princess here can crash in any one of’em” she smirks softly, eyeing you for a moment, watching the way you become bashful at the nickname. Alex sighs softly, looking down at you for a moment before she gives a half shrug. “Why the hell not…” she mumbles under her breath, taking the blunt from Ellie and bringing it to her lips, Ellie watching with the most mischievous look on her face, it almost looks fucking comical.

And that, was Alex’s first mistake.

Because sure, Alex had smoked a few times. She liked to pop an edible on nights where she couldn’t sleep or she needed a bit of rest and relaxation. So of course, she wasn’t at all a stranger to the angel that was Mary Jane herself.

But she had no idea, what Ellie was packing.

Ellie had always prided herself on having the best weed on campus, the college kids flocking to her every time she rolled up at a party. She had anything and everything you could think of, each strain providing something different for its users.

And for her? Her tolerance was high of course, so she would opt for something a bit stronger. The thing about that, is that not everyone could handle what Ellie smoked.

Alex was a prime example of that.

It only took about three passes between her and Ellie for Alex to be stumbling off of the counter and towards the couch, mumbling something about needing to be somewhere ‘soft’. You knew things were trouble as soon as Ellie was giving that smirk as she watched Alex pull from the blunt, one that looked like she’d already won whatever stupid battle she was playing with Alex.

Before you knew it, you were helping Alex up the stairs to a spare bedroom, struggling yourself because you were still very much drunk, helping her into bed, and watching her as she shoved her face into the pillow, let out a loud groan, and promptly passed out.

Alex had indeed, greened out.

You let out a soft huff as you stood back, watching the girl for a moment and thinking about everything she was experience, wishing you were able to take it all away and rewind time back to that moment in the kitchen, when your lips were mere inches apart, so close to tasting one another and cutting through this stupid slow burn that you had between one another.

But by the looks of that stupid smirk of triumph on Ellie’s lips as she watched you tug the girl to the stairs and to a spare bedroom, that wasn’t written in the stares for you.

You were so confused, and as you walked out of the bedroom, closing the door behind you and making sure no one would walk in and interrupt her slumber, all you could think about is why Ellie was doing this. She was sabotaging you, that was without a doubt, but you just couldn’t understand why. Surely, you weren’t so blind that you wouldn’t be able to see that Alex was a bad person. You felt like your judgment of character was quite good, looking back at everyone you’d ever trusted, and trying to figure out if you’d ever gone wrong with who that wasn’t

But you couldn’t, nothing came up.

You pouted softly, making your way back into the kitchen and grabbing another cup and filling it with a drink. You figured, you might as well get your moneys worth through this damned party, and as much as you wanted to confront Ellie, you weren’t sure you could handle her reasoning behind doing what she did to you.

But alas, Ellie seemed to have continued her streak on making herself present in places that you wished she wasn’t, because as you were making your way to sit down at the bottom of the stairs, staring down into the orange color of your drink that was being distorted by the lights floating around in the party, you suddenly felt the familiar presence standing over you.

“Damn…a few pulls and that’s what takes her out? I think I’m doing you a favor, princess” you don’t even have to look up to know that she has that stupid fucking smirk on her lips. You let out a low sigh, resting your forehead against the palm of your hand before you bring your cup to your lips, taking another sip.

“I really don’t have time for this right now, Ellie. I’m finishing this, and then I’m going to bed with Alex” you explain, trying your best to put an end to this pointless conversation. You finally look up at her, giving her an unamused look. She’s seemed to have ditched her blunt and her baseball cap, a red solo held lazily between her hand as she takes a sip as well. Her smirk is gone once she hears your words, rolling her eyes as she leans against the wall next to the stairs.

“Seriously? You’re still interested in that idiot after what just happened? Isn’t she even the slightest bit pathetic to you?” She tried, and you swear you can hear her voice falling to a desperate tone. You scoff, unable to pay her tone any mind as you raise your eyebrows in disbelief.

“Her? The only one pathetic here is you, Ellie. I’m not stupid, I know exactly what you’re doing…the fact that you even had the time to do that was pathetic. Where even is Sofia? Don’t you have her to keep you occupied?” You practically spit out, unable to stop your words from sounding as harsh as they do. You know you’ll regret it later, despite the fact that Ellie very much deserved it.

Ellie eyed you carefully, bringing her cup to her lips before she gave a shrug that was far too nonchalant for what she was saying. “Dunno…she left a while ago” she mumbles out, staring at the bottom of your cup.

The way she says it, the way she had almost zero regard for the girl that she was raving about with stars in her eyes was almost scary, a chill running up your spine as you watched your friend.

You blinked a few times before you inhaled deeply, looking around at the house you were sitting in. The amount of people had lessened greatly since when you first arrived. What used to be a couch full of people was now only filled with a couple, passed out and wrapped up in each others arms. You sighed softly, throwing back the rest of what was in your cup down your throat before you shoved the empty cup towards Ellie’s chest. “I’m gonna go to bed….let me know when you wanna start acting normal again” you sigh out softly, turning around to begin walking up the stairs. A strong hand on your wrist stops you.

You frown, turning around and looking down to see Ellie’s tattooed hand squeezing your wrist, making you sigh softly. You try tugging your hand out of her grasp, clearly not in the mood for anymore of her tricks. “Ellie…come on. Im drunk, I’m tired, I am severely touch deprived, and right now, I just really wanna go to bed” you mumble out, your voice tired as you try wiggling your way out of her right hold on your hand, your hazy eyes looking up at her for a moment.

Thats when you catch it, that look of desperation that had become so frequent in your best friend. It was like she was begging you for something, begging for you to understand what she was saying, or what she was feeling. It makes your heart hurt, because it makes you realize that for the first time in the many years of your friendship with Ellie, you can’t understand her. You can’t read her feelings like you can your own, and the worst part of it all?

You can’t help her.

It makes you frown deeply, and you open your mouth to say something, to speak softly to your friend and try to come to a moral high ground where you could put aside her behavior, and try to understand what the root of it was. But before you can speak, you’re suddenly being dragged up the stairs.

You nearly trip over your own feet, the chunky sandals you decided to wear, paired with the alcohol in your system made it extremely hard to keep up with Ellie’s quick pace. You aren’t really sure how someone who’d spent the entire night drinking and smoking was able to move with such dexterity. You open your mouth to try and protest, to try and ask Ellie where on earth she was taking you, but those questions are all answered, because soon she’s tugging you into another spare bedroom, and locking the door behind her.

You furrow your eyebrows in confusion as you watch your friend lock the door, and remorse you felt for her suddenly gone as it was now replaced with pure annoyance. “Seriously, Ellie? I told you I don’t have time for any games” you groan out, moving your arms so that they were crossed over your chest. You expect her to give you another witty remark, one that was about you or Alex, about how stupid you are for going for someone like that. But she doesn’t do that, in fact, she doesn’t say anything. Ellie begins pacing back and forth in front of you, her strong hand coming up to run through her short brown hair, making it fall down in front of her face again as she stares down at the ground deep in thought.

Her actions make you scoff, rolling your eyes as you sigh out loudly. “And now you’re pacing…you know I was going to cut you some slack. I was going to let all of this go because frankly, I don’t want to deal with your bizarre behavior, but now that we’re here and you’re literally in front of me pacing as it I did something wrong, I can’t let it go anymore! You know what, Ellie…I’ve been so patient with you and I think that-“ your rant is cut off, and at first you aren’t really sure what’s happening. Your brain struggles to register what it is that’s happening, what it is that’s forced your rant shorter than you had wished. But when you finally come to, you aren’t sure if any of this is even real anymore.

Because suddenly, Ellie is kissing you.

You were too caught up in your rant, that you didn’t even realize Ellie had stopped pacing, and was staring at you with a conflicting look, before she inhaled deeply and was nearly stomping towards you, cupping both of your cheeks with her hands and pressing her lips on yours.

All of your words die down in your throat, and you’re melting into the kiss, and you can’t remember how many times you’d though about this. You can’t remember all the times you’d dreamed of Ellie doing this exact thing. Grabbing you, and kissing you like her life depended on it, like she needed your lips to breath, acting as a lifeline that kept her connected to the real world. Your hands went up to grip her wrists softly, a quiet whine leaving your lips and going directly to Ellie’s, and it makes her groan.

Her hands leave your face, and the lack of warmth on your cheeks makes you whine softly, but you aren’t without it for long, because her large hands slowly travel down your body, running along your soft skin until they settle on your hips, giving them a gentle squeeze before they slide down further, resting on your ass, to which she gives a firm squeeze.

Her grip makes you gasp, and she takes the advantage of pushing her tongue into your mouth, exploring you entirely and making you moan into her. Her mouth is warm, and wet, and it makes all of the blood in your body rush to your core. Your hands go to her chest, tugging at her shirt slightly as you let her dominate the kiss, playing with your tongue as she pleased, your head clouded with the an ever growing lust for your best friend.

“Ellie…” you moan softly into her mouth, the sound makes her groan, giving your ass a firm squeeze before her head drops down to attack your neck in kisses, her mouth licking, sucking, and biting on the soft skin of your throat. She isn’t sure she’s ever heard a sound so sweet, a sound that had the capability of throwing her into a frenzy of lust so quickly. “Lemme take care of you…” she mumbles out against your skin, giving your throat a playful nip.

It makes you whine softly, and before you can nod, beg her for everything you’d ever imagined, everything you’d ever wanted from her, a heavy, looming thought settles in. It’s like a dark cloud, one that quickly rains down on you and drenches you from the inside out, reminding you of why you couldn’t do this.

Sofia.

The name echos throughout your mind, and it makes you frown deeply, because it reminds you that this is wrong, and you couldn’t do this. You refused to be this, to be the other woman to your best friend of all people.

You frown deeply, shaking your head as you try to push Ellie away from you. “But…Sofia…” you mumble out, opening your mouth again to explain why you couldn’t do this, why she couldn’t do this, but Ellie quickly cuts you off with her lips on yours. She swallows down the words that were hanging off the edge of your lips, shaking her own head as she gives your hips a gentle squeeze.

“Isn’t here….you don’t need to worry about her right now…” she hums against your mouth, kissing you once more before she breaks the kiss, staring deep into your eyes, her own one’s blown out and lust filled. Her strong, calloused fingers go to grip your chin, angling your face so you’re staring up at her. “This is about you, and me right now…okay?” She promises, her words genuine, her eyes filled with something you can’t exactly make out.

And as much as the little voice inside your head screams at you to stop, to leave and go elsewhere, your heart is doing something entirely different, and the look in Ellie’s eyes is one you can’t deny.

So, you give in to her.

You stare into her eyes for a moment longer before you give her the tiniest nod, giving your trust to the girl. With that, she presses her lips against yours, the kiss was needy and sloppy and there were so many emotions put into it. Your head was spinning because you couldn’t understand the fact that this was actually happening.

You were actually kissing Ellie.

Through the clouds of your mind, Ellie begins pushing you back until the back of your knees hit the edge of the bed, her hand pressing against your chest gently and pushing you back to sit on the bed. You stare up at her when she does this, your eyes wide and needy, and it makes Ellie groan. “You’re so fuckin’ pretty…” she mumbles out, more so to herself than to you. You bite your lip softly, watching closely as she crawls over your body, pressing kisses against your exposed collar bones and neck until she reaches your lips again, taking the breath from your lungs away once again.

Ellie hums against you, relishing in the taste of your mouth, her hands traveling down your body until they reached your jeans, her skilled fingers undoing them. You pout softly, breaking away from the kiss and looking down at Ellie’s tattooed hand tugging at the waistband of your jeans. Ellie chuckles softly at the look on your face, to which she leans in and presses a kiss to your pouty lips.

“I told you…M’gonna take care of you…you trust me, don’t you baby?” She questioned, her green eyes staring into yours, hand massaging your waist gently. It feels like you can’t breath, because the look in her eyes, and the names she’s calling you are all things straight out of a fairy tale, and it makes you wonder whether this is all a dream or not. Even if it was, you decided you’d enjoy it to its fullest.

You stare down at Ellie’s lips before looking into her eyes and giving her a nod. “Of course I trust you, Els…” you hum out softly, giving her a gentle smile. The sound of your voice, and the little smile you give her makes her heart feel like it’ll burst, and she’s smiling with you, leaning in and pressing a kiss to your lips before she gives you a nod and kisses down your body until she’s on your knees in front of you.

Ellie brought her hands up to the back of either one of your knees, pulling you so your legs were spread, and you were at the edge of the bed. You propped yourself up on your palms, pressing them into the bed as you stared down at Ellie. You inhaled deeply, trying to fight off the intense butterflies you felt in your stomach, the feeling enough to make your head spin. Ellie stared up at you, gently tugging your jeans off your body and tossing them to the side. She presses a kiss to your inner thigh, humming softly as she kissed her way to your clothed core, her lips ghosting over the place you needed her most. “You’re in good hands with me, Angel…I promise” she assured you, giving you another slight nod before she presses the softest kiss to your pussy.

You gasp softly, watching as Ellie’s eyes never leave yours, scanning your face the entire time to make sure you liked what she was doing. She smirks softly against you as she watches the way you tug your bottom lip between your teeth, the way your eyes grow darker, filled with lust as you stare down at her. Both of her strong hands grip your thighs, keeping you spread for her as her kisses on your pussy grow firmer, making you whine. “Ellie…please…” you beg, and it makes her smirk against you again.

“So needy…tell me…what is it that you want, baby? Who’s tongue are you needy for?” She purrs out, her voice low and dripping with lust as she pulls your panties to the side painfully slow. You whine softly at the feeling of the cool air of the bedroom hitting your bare, wet pussy, it forces your hips to buck forward a bit.

“Yours…I want your mouth on me Ellie…please…don’t tease…” you moan out, your head tilting to the side as you watch her movements closely, hoping it’ll somehow make her speed up. She chuckles softly, a low hiss leaving her lips as she watches a string of your arousal connect to your cotton panties. She bites her lip, tugging them further to the side to get a good look at your core.

“Fuck yeah…look at how fucking wet you are, princess…so needy for me…” she hums out, getting a good look at your pussy before she slowly brings her mouth to your core, tauntingly slow, eyes never leaving yours. “For me, right? It’s all for me?” She questions, voice low. There’s a hint of desperation, like she needs to hear that it’s for her, she needs confirmation that this is her doing, and no one else’s.

It makes you moan loudly.

You give an eager nod, your hands fisting the sheets underneath you. “Yours! It’s all…all for you Ellie..” you confirm, because despite the cloudiness in your head, through all of it, there’s no doubt that she’s doing this to you, that Ellie is the reasoning behind the state you were in. Ellie smiles, and it’s like she’s so proud of you, like you’ve made her the happiest girl in the world just by telling her the truth.

You want to stick with that for a moment, look deeper into it and figure out what it is that you’ve said that’s made her so happening, but you can’t, because your head is spinning once Ellie latches her plump lips against your core, latching onto your clit and sucking like her life depended on it.

You throw your head back, back arching in pleasure almost painfully. Ellie watches in awe, because you look like a work of art, the prettiest painting, the most detailed sculpture, none of it can compare to the way your chest rises and falls, the way your lips swell, or the way your eyes become low and dreamy. You’re better than any work of art in the world, and it makes her feel lucky to even be here with you.

Her tongue is lapping at your core, watching as jolts of electricity travel through your body with each flick of her tongue to your sensitive little bundle of nerves, and she feels proud of herself for giving you this pleasure, for making you feel this way. You moan out Ellie’s name loudly, your head falling down and tilting to the side as you watch her closely. You want to remember it forever, you want to take this moment and burn it into your mind so you know that it’s real, and that this actually happened.

“So…so pretty…” you moan out, finding it hard to form coherent sentences through the blur of pleasure to felt, and the cloudy feeling that came with the alcohol. You felt numb and hypersensitive all at the same time, and the sensation of that made your head spin. Ellie groans softly against you, giving you an encouraging nod as she flicks her tongue against your weeping core.

And you suddenly feel it, that tight, coiling feeling at the pit of your stomach. It makes your legs shake, it makes your hips grind agains Ellie, forcing your pussy to grind against her face, desperately seeking your orgasm, needing to feel that familiar feeling of bliss wash over you, and you suddenly can’t help but wish that this doesn’t end, that this moment lasts forever.

“Ellie…Els I…fuck….mmmph…m’close!” You announce, your back arching further as you feel it growing closer, and closer and closer and the second you’re right there at the edge….

Its gone. And you realize, you need to be careful what you wish for.

You look down, a soft whine leaving your lips as you look at Ellie below you. Her face is soaked with your arousal, pupils blown out with lust, and bottom lip tugged between her teeth. You open your mouth to complain, to whine and tell her how close you were, but a shiver runs down your spine when Ellie brings her fingers to your core, rubbing circles ever so slowly into your throbbing clit.

“Look at you…poor baby wants to cum so badly, hm?” She hums out, voice tauntingly low as she stared up at you, eyes shining as she slowly toyed with your pussy. You can’t even respond, your hips buck up into her fingers, and she’s quickly clicking her tongue against the roof of her mouth, and bringing one of her hands down to hold your waist steady

“Ooh, not so fast…I think you need to wait a little bit longer, baby” she explained, voice so low and sweet, it made your head spin. You let out a soft huff, tugging at the sheets beneath you further as you try moving your hips again. “Ellie..that’s…it’s not fair…I’m so close..” you explain, your demeanor clearly switching to one that was needy and huffy.

Ellie chuckles softly, nodding slowly as she continues toying with your pussy so slowly, it feels like torture. “No…no it isn’t fair” she hummed out, slowing her fingers down even more, which was something you weren’t sure was even possible.

She hums softly as she looks down at your poor, weeping pussy, biting her lip softly as she continued rubbing small circles into your clit, pulling you closer towards the edge, just to rip it all away from you, all over again.

“You know what else isn’t fair?” She questioned softly, her eyes now trailing up to yours, her fingers speeding up a bit. As much as you wanted her mouth, anything was better than nothing at this point, and you barely had the mind to give her a proper response. You whined softly, arching your back as you felt it again, growing closer to the edge. Ellie smirked softly as she watches you, going even faster before she leans in and gives your pussy a long lick, which makes you nearly scream.

“How much you hurt me, baby…” she mumbles out, and you can hear that she’s pouting. Her words make your eyebrows furrow, and you look down at her, whining and moaning through the pleasure as you try to see if you’ve heard her correctly. “W-what?” You whimper out, and it causes her to chuckle softly again.

“God, you’re so fuckin cute…” she whispers softly before she nods, a soft hum leaving her lips before she continues speaking. “You hurt me so much, princess….you and that stupid fucking girl…makes me so upset seeing you together, especially when I know I’d treat you so much better” she pouted out again, watching you as you fell apart above her. You’re sure you aren’t hearing her correctly this time. You’re sure that it’s the alcohol, and the pleasure, and everything else you’re experiencing that’s making you hear things.

There’s so much going on in her head, and you can’t even focus on it because she’s clicking her tongue again, and it’s almost like she feels sorry for you, for how much of a wreck you’ve become at the hands of her, at the workings of her tongue.

“And you don’t even fucking realize it too…that’s what pisses me off the most…” she groans out, speeding up her fingers, watching as you whine and wither for her. “You never fucking have…” she mumbles out that part a bit quieter, as it she hopes you don’t here it, or as if that part isn’t for you to hear.

She smirks softly, green eyes trailing up to watch you as she hums. “I think for the at…I shouldn’t give this to you so easily, huh? Pretty girl?” She continues, and you’re shaking your head before she can even finish her sentence. Somehow, out of all the outlandish things that have passed her lips within the last few minutes, that’s the only thing you can focus on and respond to, and that makes her chuckle.

“Ahh, but you can respond to that…” she teases, humming softly as she gently pushes her pointer and index finger into you, watching as your face contorts with pleasure, and it makes her groan softly. “I can’t even imagine how good you’d look taking my cock…you’re made for it…” she groans out through gritted teeth, watching as you moan and whine while she slowly fucks her fingers in and out of you.

At this point, you’ve been denied your orgasm so many times, you’re sure she’s going to do it again. You’re practically preparing for the second she stops, egging you on further until you’re crying for her. You let out a pathetic little whine, your legs threatening to close, and keep her out, to which she pouts. “Shutting me out already? But I haven’t even made you cum yet” she taunts, watching you with a look of pity before she leans in closer to your core, her warm breath wafting against your weeping pussy.

“I know you want it…you always have, haven’t you baby?” She smirks softly, eyeing you as her fingers come to a complete stop inside of you.

And that, that is what throws you over the edge.

Because you can’t take it anymore, one of your hands goes to the back of her head, grabbing a fistful of hair and pressing her face against your core. This results in a low groan from Ellie, one of her hands squeezing your thigh the second you push her in, and her tongue working on your core immediately. She’s just as desperate as you are, tongue lapping at your cunt like a hungry dog, wet noises of squishing and squelching echoing throughout the room, bouncing off the walls and making you feel even more aroused than before.

Her fingers inside of you begin pumping once again, and you finally feel it, that warm feeling you felt earlier, yet this time it’s stronger. All of the orgasms you’d been denied had built up together to create something explosive, electrifying, you could practically feel the energy building up within your body, begging to be released.

And the second you looked down into Ellie’s eyes, seeing the way she was watching your every move, watching the way your face contorted in pleasure, the way your lips parted to let the most wonderful noises escape…

You were done for.

You came so hard, you saw white. It was like you’d died and gone to an afterlife where there was nothing but bliss, a euphoric state that left you almost feeling like you were no longer a body, but a soul. Your back arched so hard it was painful, you were sure to be sore in the morning. It was all too much, too powerful, too erotic.

When you came down from your high, all you could hear were Ellie’s praises. She called you a good girl, she called you her good girl, and she was so proud of you for how well you did, how well you took her. And all you could feel, was Ellie’s strong arms pulling you back into the bed, into her arms as she tugged the covers over your limp body, everything you felt was distant, it was hard to even compute what was real and what wasn’t.

And the last thing you felt before you fell into the most blissful sleep you’d ever experienced, was Ellie’s lips pressing the softest, sweetest kiss to yours.

[kleewie]

i don’t wanna keep secrets just to keep you (and i)

summary: dating tip? just don't. for celebrities, romantic relationships are absolutely forbidden. the slightest hint of one could ruin your career. but are you even listening to the lecture? doubt it, 'cause you're doing the complete opposite. (alternatively, a celebrity au featuring secret relationships.)

→ featuring: childe, & ayato (you can really tell who my faves are)

→ warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, slight cursing, established relationship, mentions of alcohol and drinking, tension, actual cursing, unreliable reader pov, gender-neutral reader (i apologize if i missed things, i haven't proofread it yet)

→ a/n: so, hi! long time no see? i was pretty stressed with college and well, i'm back! i began writing this last year and finally got the courage to finish it. but here it is and i hope you enjoy it :> please let me know if you like it <3 it really makes my day!

credits to @dumplingsjinson for the prompts!

beware, lengthy post ahead! more under the cut!

the debut.

“forbidden?” you repeat.

“absolutely forbidden!” your manager says. “a rookie with no fanbase? a scandal will ruin your reputation! you're absolutely forbidden from dating anyone.”

you sigh. he's being too overdramatic.

you will never be in a relationship, you're absolutely sure. how can you? with no time for yourself as it is, dating someone with the limited hours you already have sounds impractical.

besides, you're too busy training and practicing for auditions.

remembering it now, you want to laugh.

i told you so, your thoughts chastise.

god, you should've listened.

childe, the actor

“that's a wrap!” the director cheers.

your eyes glisten as you hold back tears. it's embarrassing, you think. so damn embarrassing.

you've been repeating the same kissing scene multiple times now. obviously, the director cheers for finally completing the take and not because you did a good job.

childe pats your back. “you did great,” he says, with a smile.

but you know the gesture so goddamn well. the same nonchalant cold grin he throws at everyone that he now directs at you? oh, he's angry alright.

for what reason? who knows. you're too busy wallowing in self-despair over how terrible your acting is.

the scene is supposedly simple. it involves the second lead, who happens to be you, confessing their love to the leading man, resulting to a spontaneous kiss.

yet, you're fumbling over the lines, acting so out of character, tripping over set, incorrectly initiating the kiss at awkward angles—the whole time-wasting squander.

“what's going on?” childe eventually asks, once he arrives at your shared apartment. his bag drops to the floor with a flop. “you're acting strange. the entire crew sees it, i see it, the director sees it—what if he decides to fire you? what will you do then?”

you swallow dryly. you left the set early hoping childe's hectic schedule prompted him to forget the whole issue. yet, here he is finally bringing up the conversation after what feels like a month's worth of tension.

as you sit on the sofa chair, your fingers massage the bridge of your nose. breathe in, breathe out. you repeat. don't cry. you try to calm yourself down as a sob tries to break through.

eight months, you've been a couple.

but, there are some things you're afraid to say.

each year, the biggest tabloid newspaper in the country releases an article on celebrity dating scandals. a month ago they released one single page article about a popular actor dating a newbie actress. it barely had any juicy details, just a simple paragraph of a somebody dating a nobody.

yet, it did not end well for them. and you're terrified; for when it could happen to you.

you imagine it. dozens of messages and multiple missed phone calls on your cell as your name becomes the next talk of the town. the headline reads: revealed! a nobody actress, the second-lead from the northland bank saga currently dates the nation's boyfriend, childe!

it terrifies you. you could lose your job. lose what you love doing the most. and you could get tossed aside like an old sweater under someone's bed, left to rot and decompose.

so, yes. you hesitated earlier at set because you don't want anyone to connect the dots. to look at the kiss between you two and notice something amiss. to speculate that there's more to your relationship than what meets the eye. to realize you look at him as more than a co-star. to see how much you're in love with him. to realize the both of you are dating.

“it's not easy.” you say, releasing a sigh.

two years you've been in the business. rookies barely get any roles as it is. being in a well-received rendition of an old romance drama is a once in a blue moon opportunity and you can't risk someone finding out about your relationship.

“camera shy? no—you've kissed heaps of actors for that school drama.”

you mumble, “two people aren't heaps of actors, tartaglia.”

“then what is the problem?”

childe saunters to where you sit. he leans towards you and presses his palm on the head of the sofa, trapping your body between his and the chair. childe's eyes meet yours and you instantly look away.

he knows you well enough to comprehend that look on your face. the way you hide your clammy hands behind you, the manner of your eyes staring only at your feet, how your body tucks itself into the corner of the seat.

“me?” childe whispers.

he places a hand under your jaw. his thumb softly pushes your chin upwards so your eyes meet his.

“why?” he pleads.

“you won't understand.”

“i will if you tell me,” he says, holding your gaze. seeing how you relentlessly persist on keeping your mouth shut, he shakes his head. “oh, please tell me.”

you hesitate. you tell him and then what?

you could say: hey, childe! i'm afraid of our relationship being discovered. i'll be hated by your fans. you'll be constantly drained by my crying and whining. your reputation would take a hit regardless of how popular you are and—and then he'll finally realize how exhausting and annoying it is being with you.

your self-deprecation loves to pull you deeper into its sapping embrace. you're nothing, it mouths. childe would dump you and find some other actor or actress to date. god. it would be so easy. with his popularity, good looks, and charming personality, he'd find a better and talented rising-star the moment he chucks you out the front door.

so, you shake your head firmly.

“tell me, please.” he whispers.

you cross your arms, and look away.

“are you sick?”

you shake your head.

“somebody hurting you on set?”

again, you shake your head.

childe pauses, “...do you have feelings for someone else?”

“no!”

“then what is the damn problem?”

“nothing!” you exasperate, furrowing your brows together.

childe takes your reluctance as distrust and it ignites his irritation. do you not trust him? is he that insignificant to you? what are you hiding? hell, did you fall for the main lead of the show, zhongli? or do you not love him anymore? god, he can feel himself suffocate in resentment.

is he so unimportant that you'd prefer to keep the problem to yourself? it makes his blood boil; how he'd do anything for you, but you'd rather keep it to yourself and suffer alone.

“tell me.” childe scowls as he watches your lips quiver.

you keep your mouth firmly shut.

“fine, hold your tongue.” he sneers, “i understand. i really do, baby. it's not about the cameras, the flashing lights, the audience.”

childe brushes his lips against yours, “you wouldn’t kiss me like that in public, though, would you?” he releases his hold on your chin and his sharp eyes meet yours. “it’s only behind closed doors when you care to act like we’re each other’s.”

with a hooded jacket in one hand and a face mask in another, childe swiftly leaves the apartment with a slam of a door.

leaving you alone with your wretched thoughts.

more under the cut!

despite walking out the flat hours ago, childe still reverberates jealousy and anger; pure envy at how normal you act around everyone else yet, around him you're too guarded; and angry at himself for saying those awful words to your face.

he smacks his forehead on the steering wheel. childe acknowledges how childish he's been acting. you aren't ready to talk, and he shouldn't be forcing you to speak out your difficulties.

surely, the stress is piling up on you. he knows the hours you've been working on set, memorizing lines, practicing moves—again, he thumps his head on the wheel.

stupid, he curses. control your damn temper next time.

he reaches for the box of blueberry cheesecake on the front passenger seat. subconsciously, he drove two hours (and back) to the bakery's main branch as its side branches were sold out of your favorite cake. and he knows how much you love the pastry.

however, his body slouches in the parked car outside the apartment. the long drive works miracles with his anger, but the courage to actually walk inside and apologize never comes.

the ding of a text draws his attention. ‘go inside and beg for forgiveness, brat.’ yoimiya, a fellow actress from the same company as him, says. the woman is always in the loop and well-informed.

a shiver goes down his spine. if you told yoimiya about the argument, he's absolutely sure you're furious. you'd only speak to her as a last-ditch effort; knowing her personality she'd pummel him to bits while you watch.

as a result, he stands inside the apartment, one hand knocking on your bedroom door. however, instead of tasting blood, he hears your stifled sobs. the abrupt sound convinces him to turn the knob and enter the room.

the illumination from the hallway brightens the bedroom, shining a bit of light on your face. you lay on the bed with your knees to your chest, with a blanket over your waist. your reddened cheeks and tear-stained eyes makes his stomach churn.

“please don't cry, baby.” childe cooes, kneeling by your bedside. he leans over you, his fingers gently grip your cheeks. “i'm so sorry.”

the sudden apology sprouts pools from your eyes. his thumbs brush the water off your face and softly says, “i shouldn't have said—please, don't cry. it's my fault for taking my anger out on you.”

“i'm afraid of losing you,” you whimper. “if they find out—oh god—they'll tear me apart. i'm nothing compared to you. i'd lose everything. i might even lose you—”

“never, i will never leave you. no matter what happens,” childe interjects.

you furrow your brows, sobbing. “i'm no one—too difficult,” you hiccup. “you'll throw me away. i'm too whiny and too draining. if they find out... you'll see all the comments about how ugly—”

“breathe, baby.” he settles himself on your bed and softly places you on his lap. “you're gorgeous. you're not draining, and frankly, you're cute when you whine.”

you bury your face into his neck and continue, “i'm serious, childe. you'll get exhausted. the articles will talk about you too!”

“articles, mhm. they're just articles.” he hums.

irritation begins to set in. was he this clueless? you release another sob, “they're not just articles. they'll nitpick every single thing you do! oh—look at this newbie getting together with childe. oh, they suck at acting! why is childe even—”

childe gently places his palm on your neck, coaxing you to meet his gaze. “are you talking about the tabloid from last month?”

you sigh, “what else am i talking about?” and instantly you sense his laughter resonate. “are you laughing?”

“you're adorable, baby.” he breathes, nuzzling his face on your neck.

“you're making fun of me! what the hell, childe?”

he releases a sigh, pausing his laughter. “the tabloids every month. they're paid. companies pay them to talk about their idols for publicity.”

your face contorts into confusion, “who would willingly—they talked about lumine all month because of the article! you know she's my favorite actress. why would they willingly put her on the spotlight like that?”

“publicity, baby.”

you shake your head, “it makes no sense.”

“oh, it does.” childe hums. “of course, they'd seek permission first. it boosted views for her drama, didn't it? lumine did say she got extra for the views and switched apartments.”

“yeah, wait—you knew this whole time and didn't bother to tell me?”

he chuckles, “that's what you get for keeping these things to yourself for a month.” he squeezes the bridge of your nose.

“you're terrible.”

“love you too, baby.” he teases, “and besides, if a tabloid threatened to do something—” his thumb gently traces the skin around your neck. “—i'll keep you safe.”

a soft smile graces your features. “...i'm just not ready for anyone to find out. yet, anyway.”

childe hums, “we'll do it on your terms, okay? whenever you're ready.”

“sure, i guess you can keep me for a while longer. until you throw me away and find the next rookie to—”

childe's soft laughter sparks a flutter in your stomach. he would never do such a thing. the moment he first laid his eyes on you on set, heard your beautiful laugh between takes, listened to your jokes while practicing lines, and god, seen your angelic smile? the things he would do to keep you as his.

“never.” a cheeky grin appears on his lips, “i'll take care of you.”

bonus: five years later

your phone rings. the vibration continues on and off, signaling multiple inbox messages. you swipe your phone to see texts from several of your close friends.

‘i know you told me you were okay with it, but i didn't think he'd try to do it so soon. i tried but he's too hardheaded.’ says yoimiya.

‘congratulations! when's the wedding? i'm kidding. don't kill childe.’ says thoma, an actor from your same company.

‘sorrows, sorrows, prayers.’ says venti, your current co-star.

you even receive a message from childe himself.

‘good morning, baby. i'm completely fault-free. simply honoring your wishes as a devoted fiancé should.’

attached to a message was a link to a video entitled: please don't kill me honey.

you click the link.

the video's blurry, as if taken by a cellphone. you recognize thoma as the person videoing the whole scene, as he turns the camera to face him before focusing it on a woman—seemingly a fan of childe. she wears merch from his most recent drama.

a fan goes on stage chosen by a random lottery draw. the said fan wins the chance to interview childe, who was the guest of the day for talk show, and ask one question.

the girl hastily walks on stage, holding a microphone given by staff.

“um. hello, childe!”

the audience screams as the huge video screen focuses on your lover's face. he waves a quick ‘hello’ and the crowd yells louder.

the girl hesitates, “are you dating anyone right now?”

childe twists the microphone in his hands. “hm? right now... i'm not dating anyone.”

the crows sighs in relief, utterly happy their favorite leading actor continues to be single.

but you see the outline of a smirk flashing on his face, and you instantly know there's a deeper meaning to that sentence. “but, it's difficult to say... since we're not really dating as of the moment.”

quietly, you hear the voice of yoimiya whispering, “don't do it.” the camera now focusing on her, trying to get herself on stage. thoma flips the camera around to face it on himself, waving a hello, apparently enjoying the drama. he then focuses the camera on the wide screen, featuring childe's face.

to add mayhem into the mix, childe continues, “i don't think being engaged to your partner falls under dating. we're way past that.”

the interview ends with the audience screaming their lungs out in disbelief, while childe's laugh resonates the whole auditorium.

ayato, company director

“oh, them?” ayato's steady gaze meet yours, pressing his lips in a tight-lipped smile. “they're a friend of mine.”

friend. it echoes in your mind, repeating incessantly. friend. friend. friend.

dread creeps into the pit of your stomach akin to a quick flick of a lighter. after all this time, your stomach lurches. is that all he thinks of you?

god, you need a drink.

the businessmen before you smile, prompting you to return the favor. subsequently, you humbly introduce yourself as just an ‘actor in the industry’. and they laugh. of course they do.

who wouldn't know you? a multi award-winning movie and television star with piles of nominations. so modest, they say. so kind, they praise. you grin, the smile not reaching your eyes, thanking them for their compliments.

but you're so accustomed to their fake smiles, ingenuine flattery, and sweet talk; you never truly know what's actually honest and real—eyes flickering to your azure-haired partner—no, who's honest and real.

you swallow the thought down.

as if aware of the invisible daggers thrown his way, ayato's gaze meets yours. his lips are pressed firmly together, eyes devoid of warmth.

not now, his expression conveys.

you narrow your own eyes, irritation burning through your corneas. as much as you want to start an argument in front of his investors, you agree to his silent insistence. after all it's his gala; one he's tirelessly prepared for over several months.

so you bite your tongue and smile: one honed by years of acting—fake yet strangely genuine.

it's not strong enough. you say, sipping wine with shaky hands. earlier, you left ayato to his fellow businessmen using the excuse of needing a bathroom break, a reason to which he obliged.

you stare at the elaborate party before you, wishing you could go home. the gala swiftly dissolved your social battery, aided by forced mingling and bitterness. a friend, your consciousness repeats. always a friend. so you sit on a chair by the wall, sipping drinks like water.

suddenly, the hairs of your neck stand on end. you sense his presence behind you, prompting a glance through your peripheral vision.

“careful, darling.” ayato's says, tone smooth yet laced with warning. “i'd rather not have you collapsing. your lovely face wouldn't compliment these filthy floors.”

you tense immediately, shoulders stiffening. “reverting back to pet names, i see?”

ayato's hand now rests on your shoulder, his thumb brushing your soft skin. “what seems to be the issue? i doubt it's due to the eight glasses of wine you've consumed in one sitting.”

you roll your tongue in your mouth, practicing the words. let's break up. you bite your tongue. let's see other people. besides, he wouldn't care would he? it's not as if he's been acknowledging you as someone he's been dating, has he? hiding your relationship from his business partners is one thing, but concealing it from closest friends? his family? that's an entirely different matter altogether.

a friend, he says to his business partners.

a star from the company, he answers to his closest friends.

a companion, he whispers to his family.

you're sick and tired of it. all of it.

raising the wineglass to your lips, you drown the drink in one go. you raise two fingers signaling the waiter for another drink.

ayato sighs and you think you feel his hand on your neck tighten, ever so slightly. “you've reached your limit with wine, dear.”

soon, the waiter arrives with three more glasses on his tray. ayato's disapproving glare compels the waiter to scurry across the ballroom floor, steering clear of you.

you click your tongue and begin, “who says so?”

“your fiancé,” he mutters, voice dripping with venom.

you immediately scoff. “sure. for your sake, i'll pretend you mentioned that earlier.”

before ayato could retort, the presence of another individual calls his attention; his younger sister, ayaka.

“brother, the sangonomiya heir's requesting your presence.”

he sighs, irritation etching his features. yet, you blink, catching a subtle shift in his expression—seemingly twisting from annoyance to something resembling relief at the mention of sangonomiya's name.

you swallow the bitter thought.

“watch them for me, could you? i'd rather not have them find a server willing to disobey my instructions and serve them a drink,” ayato whispers, his tone betraying a hint of tension that doesn't go unnoticed.

ayaka nods. her consent prompts the older brother to depart, heading towards the misty rose-pink heir who stands at the opposite side of the ballroom.

ayaka says the inevitable, “you should let him know it bothers you.”

“...i'm not sure what you're referring to.”

her gaze follows yours, observing the giggling and cheerful countenances of the kamisato and sangonomiya heirs. they seem to be enjoying their time together. as always, you remark.

“they're just close friends, you know.”

you click your tongue. “like how him and i are just friends?”

ayaka sighs, understanding your implication. “you know what i mean.”

sangonomiya's hand on your partner's shoulder elicits an exasperated sigh from you. “thoma told me they were to be married if i wasn't here.”

“the man always running his mouth—” she takes a calming breath before continuing, “—but brother's very fond of you. i'm his sister, i should know.”

“then how come after dating him for five years, he still calls me his friend.” you pause, a hand sliding into the right pocket of your outfit. you absentmindedly play with the engagement ring inside. “i'm his fiancé, aren't i?”

“he has his reasons. petty reasons.”

you bite your tongue. or he's embarrassed of you.

you met the kamisato company heir two years after your debut as an idol. as you shifted towards acting, you developed a close relationship with his sister, a seasoned actress from the same company. eventually, she became the bridge that strengthened the bond between the two of you.

you dedicated yourself nonstop, evolving from a rookie actor to a multiple-nominee and winning star; all in the pursuit of being able to openly show off your relationship with ayato without it tarnishing your reputation.

however, when you're prepared to finally reveal your relationship, he isn't.

and it leaves you wondering, is there someone else?

you mean, you're hesitant to doubt the love of your life. but considering he's kept your relationship a secret from everyone for years, it's obvious he's adept at keeping things hidden.

even from you.

and the thought sours your mood.

excusing yourself once more to use the restroom, using the premise of consuming ten glasses of wine, you bid adieu to your favorite kamisato (at the moment). you instead head towards a secluded balcony away from prying eyes.

you stare at the garden below. your eyes quickly blink back the tears threatening to fall. not now, you hiss. don't do this to me, not right now.

“i assumed you would have retreated to your room by this point.” his voice murmurs, unnervingly composed.

you turn around to see your partner holding a glass of wine. his features remain blank, inscrutable.

maybe it's because of all the wine you've been drinking. you can't seem to tell between what's real or not.

“what did you discuss with kokomi?”

“i wasn't aware you were both on a first name basis.”

“answer the question.”

he smiles, “business as always.”

you huff and wrap your hands around your arms. “of course. just business.”

ayato immediately picks up the anger in your tone. he lays his palm on your forearm, gently pulling you towards him. “look at me,” he pleads, with a subtle trace of irritation in his voice.

you turn to look at his face, eyes glaring.

“i felt your glares the entire night.” he begins.

you shrug, smiling innocently. “...what ever do you mean?”

“don't toy with me, darling.”

as he enunciates his answer, it's as if the final thread of your patience snaps. does he still continue to feign innocence and lie to your face?

last month he proposed and you were overjoyed. you then expected a shift in your relationship; the final unveiling of your engagement to the public. you gave him your permission, a definitive “i'm ready for everyone to know.”

yet thirty days later the engagement remains concealed leaving only a few of his friends (thoma) and a few family members (ayaka) knowing about your updated relationship.

if it was the ayato from two years ago, he would be delighted—ecstatic even—to reveal the truth. he might have used the gala today as an avenue to scream to the world, this person and i are in love.

but he didn't.

so the weight of your feelings began to drag you down; it almost feels suffocating in a way. as if a ribbon labeled, he's ashamed, tightly winds around your insides, intricately tying them all together into a sophisticated bow sowing distrust whispering; he's hiding something.

your suspicions, coupled with his frequent visits this month to the sangonomiya estate, fueled your frustration until it erupted. if only he ceased pretending innocent, perhaps you would able to smile through the whole facade.

if only he didn't ask.

“i'm not naive. if you developed feelings for kokomi then you shouldn't have proposed.” you snap. “was it out of pity? did you feel so damn guilty that you chose to go through with the engagement instead of being honest about your feelings?”

ayato furrows his brows, mouth tightening in anger. “what are you talking about? i discuss private affairs with kokomi. business affairs.”

you laugh; one infused with irritation and disbelief. “don't tell me then. keep your stupid secrets.”

“do you want me to jot down a damn list detailing every single thing i do in a day?” he growls. “i won't divulge company secrets just because you feel like throwing a tantrum.”

your hands drift to the tie around his neck, tugging the crooked tie straight. “no. go ahead and keep your secrets.” you pause and roll the words with your tongue, “you're clearly very good at keeping secrets. you’ve kept me—us—as a secret for so long, so of course you’d be good at keeping fucking secrets.”

anger flares across his face. “you desired our relationship to remain a secret, and i respected your wishes.” he sneers, “i wanted to let the damn world know how much i'm in love with you yet, it was the opposite of what you desired.”

ayato releases his grip on you and strides back into the ballroom, but he halts right at the door to the balcony. “so don't dictate when i should reveal the truth simply because you've grown sick and tired of keeping me as your dirty, little secret.”

he finally departs; and you stay, tears pooling, with a profound ache in your heart.

ayato waltzes around the room in a nonchalant dance; yes, good to see you. he lies. how's business? he couldn't care less. enjoy the party! no, he wants everyone in the damn room to feel his wrath.

although he yearns to set the entire ballroom ablaze, ending the party prematurely would be ill-manned of him. so, ayato continues being a gracious and honorable host.

but he feels hollow. he envisions himself freezing the entire room in an icy gust, everyone turning into statues. he wants to sprint back into your arms and plead for you to listen.

he doesn't understand what came over him. why he lost his temper like that. typically, he'd manage your outbursts with composure and understanding. what happened? he doesn't know.

he attributes his outburst to the mounting pressure. the chronic lack of sleep and continuous exhaustion coming from his title as heir. perhaps it's the truth gnawing his skin; despite his powerful position atop the company, it can easily be ripped away with the flick of a wrist.

instead of spending time with his fiancé—he doesn't know if he still deserves to call you that, you probably threw away his ring the second he left the balcony—yet here he is, engaged in conversations with business associates he cares little about.

“brother?” ayaka calls. she finds him leaning against a railing of stairs. “i closed off the gardens.”

ayato swallows. he last saw you sneaking towards the grounds. “they're still on the grass?”

“yes.”

“they'll catch a cold.”

“they will.”

he glances at his sister. “they think i'm unfaithful.”

“i know,” she says matter-of-factly. “have you offered them any evidence to convince them otherwise?”

ayato stays silent.

“i know you care about them, brother.” ayaka sighs, “however, surprising them with a specially crafted ring and being petty when your entire relationship is at stake may not be the wisest move.”

he sighs.

“most especially if they suspect that your frequent visits to the sangonomiya manor are fueled by romantic feelings for its heiress, and not for their own wedding ring.”

after a while, ayato spots you lying on the grass in a starfish formation, having finally swallowed his pride. his eyes glaze over your features: red eyes, cheeks marked with tear stains, and an exhausted expression.

“can we talk?” he begins.

you spare a quick glance before turning your attention back to the night sky. “there's not much to talk about.”

“i'm not cheating,” he asserts.

“i know.”

“do you know, or have you resigned yourself to not knowing?”

“hm,” you hum. “a part of me entertains the thought of you cheating. yet an even smaller part absolutely knows that if you were truly cheating, you'd be more discreet. who, in their right mind, would inform thoma that you visited her manor?”

he chuckles, a laughter-less sound escapes him. “i understand i've been secretive. you have every right to assume i'm up to something indecent. but i have my reasons.” ayato confesses, kneeling beside your body. he places his hand inside his suit pocket, pulling up a black small box.

you instantly sit up. “you're horrible,” you cough, eyes widening as he opens the box to show a ring. “this entire time you were—god.”

“i placed a special order,” he mumbles. “i visited each day to ensure it was flawless, right down to the smallest details.”

“i'm so sorry.”

“don't be, love.” he breathes, “you had your reasons, and i was insistent on keeping it a surprise.”

relief floods your features. “good,” you whisper before tears well in your eyes.

the sound of your sobs breaks his heart. he immediately wraps his arms around you, brushing his lips on your cheeks.

“i'm sorry, darling,” he murmurs, kissing the skin above your brow. “i'm sorry for worrying you.”

“goddamn sadistic,” you sob. “you knew i was freaking out, but you just watched!”

he grins, “i have to admit, you look cute when you're jealous.”

a groan escapes you. “don't make me throw away both rings.”

“is that so? i should've ordered twenty spares.”

“no.” you scold.

“oh? look at my darling, so jealous,” he smirks, nuzzling his face into your neck. you then feel his lips press into a straight line. “you're not something i would ever try to hide. i would never be ashamed of our relationship.”

you laugh, “prove it.”

your smile faces seeing the smirk on his face. in that exact moment, you know that kamisato ayato, the preposterous god in human flesh, plans to do something grand and explosive to prove you otherwise.

“do not.” you begin, “we've talked about this. you cannot—you absolutely will not bribe the government to declare our wedding date as a national holiday!”

bonus: ten minutes before the clash

“is it getting warm in here, or am i sensing the intense gaze of your loving fiancé on me?” kokomi laughs, sipping a glass of champagne.

ayato takes a peek, and he chuckles upon seeing your irritated and jealous expression. “they certainly are.”

“please do not involve me in your lovers' quarrels. everyone knows we're just close friends.”

“they do.”

“have you told them?”

“...it may have slipped past my mind.”

kokomi shakes her head. “sadistic.” she slips a black box into his palm. “clear it up. i do not want to be murdered by your future partner.”

ayato glances at you from across the room as you engage a conversation with his sister. “mhm, i could, but their jealous expression is too endearing.”

“sadistic,” she repeats. “absolutely sadistic.”

he chuckles.

“also, kazuha mentioned that you've been referring to them as your companion. correct that.” she continues, “and stop calling them your friend!”

“they asked me to when we started dating.”

she rolls her eyes. “you're so petty. stop trying to provoke them!”

“anyways, everyone knows we're engaged,” he corrects. “their whining face is the cutest.”

“sadistic.”

“kokomi?”

she tilts her head and hums, “yes?”

“ever wondered how much it costs to propose a national holiday?”

author’s note: lmao. so in this modern au ayato actually succeeds in turning your wedding date into a national holiday. the government actually appreciates his donation because a.) they always accept goodwilled (lmao) funds and b.) ayato's an important pillar to the gov and they don't want to upset him 'cause petty rich boy tantrums tilt the economy (how sadistic).

so, ayato's the heir of the company where you are employed at as an idol turned actor/actress. kokomi is the heiress to a big jewelry corporation. lmao they were both engaged together when they were like five but they instantly broke it off because well, they both threw five year old tantrums.

plus thoma telling you that they were to be engaged was just a fact he blurted out when you asked about kokomi (he manages to omit the five-year-old part because he's careless + he didn't think it matters because anyone can tell ayato's intensely in love with you)

[pikahlua]

I hope this will be short.

I guess this line is the fandom drama of the chapter?

I understand a lot of you are really passionate about the accuracy of the English translation. I just want to encourage you to try to engage with the official translation in good faith.

Ojama shimasu literally means "I am disturbing you/I will get in your way." It's often spoken as a greeting where the "apology" is implied (hence the brackets in my translation), but as usual context is everything in Japanese. Izuku is saying this line in defiance of Tomura's wishes. It basically comes across as Izuku plugging his fingers in his ears.

Me personally? If I were the official translator, I'd have strongly considered translating the line as "I'm coming in whether you like it or not."

The purpose in my pointing out the "common greeting" nature of this line was to demonstrate Izuku's sassiness. This is Izuku doing his "meddling where you don't technically have to" thing. The level of formality in Izuku's speech doesn't necessarily translate to actual politeness (check out @bakuhatsufallinlove's excellent post on that here).

Does "You will let me in," mean the exact same thing? Technically no, but it's the sentiment that counts. From an official translator's point of view, "You will let me in," is shorter, punchier, fits in the speech bubble a lot easier, and still conveys the general idea of what's happening in the scene.

I don't know. I wanted to talk about this because I guess a lot of people are concerned about Izuku's characterization and how it reflects on Japanese culture and how the official translation may be misrepresenting Japanese culture to the English-reading audience, and I just...can I ask that everyone take a step back a minute? Horikoshi isn't writing his story for an English-reading audience. He's not considering at all how any of this sounds to English speakers. That's the translator's job, not just to translate what is said but to translate that into the context of who is reading it. Localization is not a dirty word--it's an important aspect of translation. And the notion that Izuku is being polite and respectful here as a Japanese person is just such a...take. Izuku is being hella rude here lol. Japan itself, not just the MHA Japan but REAL WORLD Japan, notoriously has a bystander problem where people will ignore others who are being harassed because they don't wanna get involved. They won't step in to help nor will they even testify as a witness against others for fear of what it means to speak out and break from the pack. Izuku is quite obviously Horikoshi's direct answer to that phenomenon. He's meant to be an example of the morally correct thing to do, which is to be "rude" in these cases.

So I mean, sure, we can talk about what is lost in translation by the line, "You will let me in." But to me what's lost may just be grammatical and pedantic (like the passive voice that switches the onus of action onto Tomura instead of Izuku and what that may do to the focus on Izuku's rise to action here). In any case, it's not a BAD translation that changes Izuku's perceived politeness, just one that may prompt new discussion--and I don't think that's a bad thing.

[comfortablecomfort]

Apologize

(Right, let's get it!!!)

Lers: Ragatha and Pomni

Lee: Jax

The loud laughter was startling, Pomni tried to calm herself down as soon as she heard the noise.

"NAHAHA GET OHOHOFFF!" Jax screeched and tried to push Ragatha off of him.

"I will if you apologize for that prank of yours you pulled on me." Ragatha teased

Jax refused to do as he was told, he liked messing with people.

Everyone had a different reaction:

Pomni was surprisingly fascinated

Caine was as exotic as ever

Gangle was in her usual sob-story mood

Zoobie crossed their arms, a bit satisfied at the smug rabbit's laughter

And Kinger gave no reaction

"Um.. i-is this something you all normally do?" Pomni asked Caine nervously

"Of course we do! Tickling is a great way to have fun!" Caine assured her while floating around.

"It's about time someone like him got some comeuppance." Zooble briefly said

Pomni looked back at the scene in front of her, and saw how Ragatha was spidering her fingers all over Jax's body

Pomni herself knew a bit about tickling, so this wasn't new to her.

But the whole thing was interesting.

"Hey, you wanna help me out?" Ragatha asked Pomni with a smile

Jax instantly panicked as soon as Ragatha said this

"NOHOHO NO! DON'T HELP HEHEHER!" Jax warned, though it was hard to take seriously because of his laughter.

"It might calm you down, since your new."

Pomni slowly walked over, bend down, and started tickling Jax's foot.

He kicked and let out hysterically loud laughter, which made Pomni flinch a little.

Ragatha gave her a reassuring smile and went back to work with Jax.

Jax was at his breaking point, he couldn't take anymore. Good.

"So, are you sorry?" Ragatha asked, motioning for Pomni to let up a little.

"Fihihine, whatever.. sorry." Jax panted, not holding back his supposed anger.

"Good to know." Ragatha ceased her tickling and looked over at Pomni

"Are you feeling better?" She asked

"Maybe..." Pomni muttered nodding her head slightly.

Jax might be planning some revenge, but as of right now...

The only good deed he's committed is calming Pomni down.

(Yeah, fuck this fic. Hope you all enjoyed it, though. I'm not sure if I'll write more...)

[eddywoww]

Okay but tempted to write a Christmas fic

Steve gets his first big job during college and unfortunately it’s a temporary gig. Robin gets him the rec and Steve deeply regrets it from the get go.

Because yeah, he has to wear stupid striped tights and a green tunic and a humiliating hat. He has to be one of Santa’s elves.

He doesn’t love it but it pays alright, even if it’s just seasonal. The kids are mostly okay (bar the ones who are not okay at all) and Santa himself is an alright guy. The only problem with being home and being in the Most Populated place on earth (ie the mall) is that Steve keeps seeing people he knows. And then he sees his ex.

It’s fine. It’s whatever. Except it totally isn’t and he’s just gotten off his shift, so as soon as she calls his name, he ducks right out of the way and goes flying past her. Nope, absolutely not. He’s not shooting the shit with a girl who stomped methodically on his entire heart like it was fun.

So what does he do? He runs into the nearest open store and hides. Like a coward. He darts right into the changing room and shuts the door and he doesn’t care if he causes a scene because what the fuck? Could she not see the literal panic in his eyes?

Steve tries to wait it out and starts to get anxious thinking someone will come knocking eventually. And they do.

“Uh, you can come out now,” A voice says just behind the door. A male voice. “I think the girl following you is gone. Which, hey. That’s the first time I’ve seen THAT happen. You good? You on the run? You need an alibi-“

Steve can’t take anymore yapping, his face burning already, so he throws the door open and nearly hits the dude on the other side. Who is like- he’s weird, that’s what. He’s lanky and kind of goth. Long hair, tattoos, black clothes. Maybe some eyeliner, Steve isn’t sure.

He’s hard to not look at.

And then he does the most ridiculous thing.

His surprised expression quickly morphs into something flirty. He lifts one hand and touches the doorframe like a jackass, eyes trailing over Steve. A move Steve has literally used on girls before. And then there’s Steve. Who is still in the dumb outfit, of course. It’s never felt more cumbersome than in this moment.

“I guess Santa brought my gift early.”

Steve blanks out so hard that the guy immediately starts apologizing. Which isn’t entirely necessary, just-

“I’m straight.”

And then the guy just looks at Steve. Gives him another once over and shrugs.

“You wanna get lunch with me tomorrow? In the food court?”

He has no reason to say yes. So explain why he actually does say yes. Explain why he does it and he has a good time with a hot topic employee (also a college student) named Eddie.

Cue Elf Steve’s Big Gay Adventure

[silverzoomies]

Great Pumpkin

peter maximoff x reader smut

warnings: shameless smut, smut, kissing, porn with plot, halloween, drunk sex, halloween party, porn with feelings, use of the speech quirk "yer"

word count: 7,878

a/n: meant to finish this one before halloween. whoops !! at least november is the spook before christmas !! or halloween 2, electric boogaloo !!

some notes about this one: i wanna apologize for the needless plot. i know it's unnecessary, but i got a little carried away. if anything feels awkward, out of place, or weird? that's my bad. sorry. i was havin' too much fun writing the less smutty stuff. some other notes - think of this as an au, i guess. where erik is hiding out at xavier's for...reasons? idfk. sitcom logic. everyone's living together !! but there's tension !!

tag list: @dewberryobssesed @violetharmonscupcake @kaismanwich @jellyluvr @icannot3 @taintandviolent @ahoyladiesz @scene-and-dandylover @quickandsilvers @luttic @billielourdslays

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All Hallows Eve.

Prior to the X-Family’s spooktacular bash, Hank whipped up a little something special. Using his Einstein brain - or wizard sorcery. Peter couldn’t be too sure - the beastly scientist conjured a powerful inebriant. He heard Peter joke one too many times about his inability to get drunk. Since the speedster’s body filtered through substances at break-neck speed. Leaving not a second’s worth of intoxication time.

No exaggeration there. Peter once tried chugging his mom’s entire stash of liquor, along with a bottle of Purple Toad wine. Some really fruity stuff. Such a mass of booze only left a burn in his throat, along with an onslaught of nausea. All of which lasted 0.2 seconds.

Hank wanted to do Peter a favor for all his hard work lately. And now, he could finally participate in what he missed out on. After all these years. As long as he didn’t use the substance for any nefarious purposes. Per Hank’s request. Whatever that meant. Not like Peter planned on playing pranks at this year’s party. C’mon…really? He’s a teacher, for Geddy’s sake! He's gotta set a good example.

Spoiler alert: he had planned on it. Keyword being had.

Until the inebriation actually kicked in. For the first time in his unconventional life, a warm buzz pooled through Peter’s bloodstream. One of the major side effects? Debuffs to superspeed. Which proved an otherworldly experience. If not a little uncomfortable. Still worth it, for a one-night-only lesson in drunkenness.

Peering lazily into his red solo cup, Peter blinked. His eyes followed swirls of neon cyan. Luminous in its irradiated glow. He couldn’t comprehend the science behind Hank’s glowstick booze. But he knew it filtered through his body at a much slower rate than other substances. The drink felt syrupy on his tongue, and tasted like - coincidentally enough - candy corn. Its effects proved weaker than Peter expected. 

Given his cells operated so incomprehensibly fast, Peter didn’t find this too surprising. So, what? He’d never get frat party wasted. Oh well. Peter came to accept that fact about himself forever ago. Still, fluorescent booze made him mellow enough to slow down a lot. Peter could totally vibe with mellow. No complaints there. Mellow’s copacetic. He definitely owed Beastie for his magic potion of slow-mo. Peter oscillated between a nice, tipsy balance. Muddled enough to let loose and enjoy himself. But conscious enough to avoid making any ultra stupid decisions.

Or, he thought so, anyway.

Hobbling around the mansion, Peter pushed through crowds of partygoers. All dressed in their spookiest, sexiest, or most low-effort costumes. Twinkles of orange and violet lights kept the mansion somewhat lit. With spoOoOoOoOoky decorations scattered amongst the school. A perfectly campy atmosphere for Halloween. Oh. And those decorations? All Peter’s doing. Of course, it’s no surprise the professor deemed him prime event decorator. He took mere microseconds to spice up an entire plot of land. Throwing forth all his effort, Peter dressed the building in balls-to-the-walls, haunting decor. 

Fake spiders with prickly fur lay strewn about in random places. Ghosts made of old, torn sheets swayed in the breeze. Skeletons hanged by the dozens. Streamers of orange and faded black dangled from the ceilings and doorways. String lights lined the mansion’s trim. Outside on the grounds, Peter even garnished the grass with inflatable Snoopys.

During his decorative escapades, he cracked jokes to the kids. Peter asked, “You guys think the Great Pumpkin’ll show up?”

They squealed with laughter, stomping their little feet. Candy buckets in hand, the kids yelled, “Mr. Maximoff, the Great Pumpkin’s not real!!”

In the midst of rearranging another Snoopy, he gasped, “WHAT?! He is too real!! Better not let him hear you say that!” 

A haunted trail veered off into the woods surrounding the mansion. It led to an old barn, stocked full of hay and populated with jack-o-lanterns. All carved by the mutant kiddos themselves. Another set of glittering lights decorated the barn, creating an autumn glow. A pair of giant speakers - Peter paid for them, mind you - roared Halloween tunes over the entire property.

Cool stuff. Talk about a hell of a set-up. Peter couldn’t help but be proud of himself. Such a slew of decorations might put even Scrooge Mcduck himself in holiday spirits.

Wait. No. What? Scrooge Mcduck? Wasn’t he more of a Christmas thing? Fuck. Peter might be more mixed up than he thought. He gazed absentmindedly into his red solo cup again. Blinking slowly, he wondered…what the hell did Hank put in this disco concoction anyway?

Whatever. By the end of the night, Peter hoped the kids got a kick out of his hard work. Not that he broke a sweat putting it all together or anything. But he wanted to live up to his awesome teacher reputation. The highest of honors, really. No way he’d let anyone else trump him on that front.

Then again… Peter nibbled his lip, grinning to himself like a huge doofus. He took another long swig of his drink. Candy corn sweetness tickled his taste buds.

Okay. So, he might’ve had someone else in mind while he decorated. Somebody he desperately wanted to impress. A lot. Or, just a little bit, actually. Like, on a microscopic level. Maybe.

That somebody? You. Except, not really. No way.

Pffffttt…he definitely didn’t do it for you. C’mon! Why would he? Think of the kids! Those precious, lil demon spawn! They practically worshiped him. They’re what it’s all about, right? Riiiight.

Peter’s holiday decorations tempted any passing trick-or-treaters to drop by. And the professor prepared quite the spectacle of treats for them too. King sized, candy bars and all. Hank and Raven - showing off their mutant glory without an ounce of shame - passed the candy out to children. 

Human children.

Magneto - still unaware he had a son sprinting around the mansion on any given day - dubbed the gesture hopeless naivety. Or something along those lines. Inviting humans to join in on a night of mutant fun? Totally bogus. Which…yeah. From Erik’s perspective? Fair enough.

“You think they’ll learn to accept you through meaningless, holiday gestures?” Erik griped, arms crossed, “Don’t be ridiculous.”

Raven merely rolled her eyes. She made a comment about the inherent innocence of children. Erik didn’t appear to care. He groused some more after that. But Peter didn’t hear much of it. Nor did he imagine he even wanted to. At least, not tonight. Maybe once Peter sobered up a bit, he wouldn’t mind lending an ear. If his father ever felt the need to open up about his woeful turmoil.

But Erik disappeared upstairs. Out of sight. Still in hiding, all alone. Poor dude.

Unlike his misguided papa, Peter didn’t mind human inclusion so much. One: because he considered himself a pretty open minded guy. Easy to say, since he didn’t harbor anything remotely comparable to his father’s trauma. 

And two, on a less serious note: Human girls. They gravitated towards Peter like moths to a flame.

Throughout the mansion, the theme to Killer Klowns from Outer Space rang. Conversations buzzed around Peter like radio static. Candy corn booze made it impossible for him to comprehend them. Some partygoers played wallflower. Idling by snack tables, feasting on as much junk food as their stomachs could handle. It took every ounce of restraint Peter had, not to raid those tables himself.

Peter’s Terminator costume wasn’t much of a costume at all, really. It left most of the ladies confused. He didn’t recognize half the costumed cuties who pulled him in for dances. But they sure as hell recognized him. When another pretty girl pressed herself against him - tits bouncing, and bare thighs rubbing his pants - she’d ask the dreaded words, “What’re youuuu supposed to be?” Twirling her hair and giving Peter fluttery bedroom eyes.

Peter gave the same responses every time. Covered head to toe in black clothing, wearing a pair of sunglasses; he raised a prop shotgun from his back, responding with his best Arnold impression.

“I’ll be back.” Right on the money, Peter thought in his buzzed haze. Totally accurate. One to one.

If the girlies didn’t get the reference? So be it. Peter ultimately felt like a massive dork. But he got some sexually charged groovin’ out of it. A bit of groping here or there. He didn’t mind taking the L, if it meant grabbing some ass in the process.

But as the party clamored on, Peter knew he wanted only one thing.

To find you. Just to hang out, catch up, and have an innocent time. No other reason. Seriously. Honest. Why else would he wanna find you? To mess around a little bit? Nahhh. Why would he wanna fool around with you? And risk a long term friendship? He couldn't have that.

Not when you carried enough patience to put up with his day-to-day bullshit. Always listening to his senseless ramblings. Even if he spoke too fast for you to keep up.

During his lunch breaks on school days, Peter usually spent time with you. The two of you talked in the kitchen, or chillaxed in the lounge. Those chats? The highlight of his day. As corny as it seemed. He just couldn’t resist you and your kindly wiles. The wiles of his colleague. His…very pretty colleague. His…very pretty… platonic colleague.

Someone please end his misery now.

Peter wandered aimlessly. He danced his heart out and chatted up some more cute gals. Soon enough, he found you. Leaned over a set of snack tables, you picked through sugary sweet treats. Peter noticed the way you swayed in place. A little heavy footed like him, eh? He snickered to himself, sneaking up behind you. 

Lacking any filter or restraint, Peter blatantly gawked at your ass. A fitted, white gown draped your body. Flowing in an angelic fashion, it harmonized with your every curve. Even tipsy, Peter recognized your costume the microsecond he saw it. Princess Leia. Star Wars. Episode IV. Very sexy. Beyond sexy, even.

A flirtatious whistle caught you by surprise. You whirled around with a doe eyed look on your face. A kind of gaze that made his brain turn to mush. As if the alcohol hadn’t already. You licked the frosting off a funky colored cupcake, as Peter’s gaze flitted down your body. His eyes followed the smooth creases of your gown. A tasteful peek of your thigh kept his attention locked. Until the perky tease of your nipples captivated him instead.

Awesome. Amazing. 11/10. Best night ever.

“Ohmygosh!” You laughed, reaching out to touch Peter’s chest for whatever reason. Not that he minded one bit, “Peeeter, I’m sooooo sorry! I’m a little tipsy right now! It’s really unprofessional!”

Scarlet bloomed in his cheeks, burning hot enough to make him dizzier. Peter ogled you like the last Twinkie on the planet. A dollop of frosting caught the plush of your lip. You swirled it away with your tongue. Drawing in a hitched breath, Peter blinked.

Focus. He needed to focus on anything else. Not the parts of you he wanted to be on, inside of, and all other configurations of carnality.

“And?? You wanna hear somethin’ cray-crayyy?” Peter asked, lamely slurring his words. He raised his red solo cup, waving it in a clumsy motion, “So am I, princess! I’m totally hammered. And I looooove it!” He threw his head back, belting a loud, “WHOOOOO!!” Feeling more like a free spirit than he had in years.

Moving closer, you couldn't control your laughs. You shushed Peter, keeping your hand on his chest. Patting you on the shoulder, Peter chuckled. He feigned offense, but his sizeable hand lingered on you. A thumb grazed the soft cloth of your dress. For a beat, he wondered what you looked like under it.

“Whyyyy?? Why should I keep it down, huh?? It’s a party, baby! Everybody’s yellin’!” He shrugged. Peter smirked, throwing his head back again. He shouted another, “WHOOOOO!!”

A crowd of partygoers kept their eyes on the two of you. Their gazes lingering for a little longer than necessary. You snickered again. So tipsy, you could hardly get a word in through your giggling.

“You really are drunk, oh my gosh. You’re crazy, Peter! I can’t even-” Dropping your head into his chest, you erupted in woozy huffs of laughter. Great. He loved the closeness, “Peter, sorry, I’m sooooooo-”

“Mind-blowingly hot?” Peter lazily blinked, “Because yer-...you-ohhhh, man. You look really hot. Like-” He made a meaningless gesture with his hands, shaking his head, “Like, WOW! Have you seen yourself? Someone tell ‘Ro to make it rain. ‘Cuz yer on fiiiiiiire!” He joked. Cheesy and lame, but too smashed to even care.

You scoffed, cheeks set ablaze, “Oh, please! Give me a break! Mister Terminator casanova over here. Are you trying to butter me up like you did all those other ladies?” Playfully, you pushed off his chest. Peter mourned the loss of your touch, “I saw you! Getting all handsy out there!” You said, your tone lighthearted. Still accusatory.

Somehow, you recognized his costume. That caught him a little off guard. Peter’s heart did some kinda funny, fluttery thing. Jumpy, warm, and beating beating beating in his chest. But…nah. Couldn’t be because of you. Could it? Maybe the booze did it. Yeah. Irradiated Beast hooch must’ve give him palpitations. He’d tell Hank about this side effect later.

Peter arched a silver brow, “Oh, yeah? Mmmhm. Sounds like yer just jealous. ‘Cuz the ladies find my inner Schwarzenegger, action hero totally irresistible.” Bullshit. Most of them thought he dressed as Neo from the Matrix. Wrong action movie. Peter kept talking out his ass, “I bet it drives you up a wall to see ‘em all over me like that.”

“Oh, you think? Suuure. Like Leia would ever have the hots for some dollar store Terminator.” You teased affectionately, “Likely story, Quickie.” Fuck. Quickie. He loved when you called him that. You deceived your own protests, pressing your body against Peter's.

Your nails dug into his shirt as you palmed his chest. So…you wanted to play this little game now, huh? Alright. Fine. Peter bickered back and forth with you for an indiscernible amount of time. Standing in a corner by the snack tables, away from the noisy, party bustle. Unbalanced and wobbly, Peter leaned in. Keeping you both pressed together in a way too intimate for wandering eyes.

He almost spilled his neon concoction on your dress. Exchanging giggles again, Peter lingered even closer. His lips on the cusp of reaching out for yours. But in a clouded moment of self awareness, he stopped himself short.

“D-Do you…uhhhh-” He swallowed dryly. His nerves buzzed all through his body, “Y’wanna…get outta here? Maybe go do somethin’ reallllyyyy dumb? Like-uh…maybe make a mistake you’ll regret in the morning?” Peter suggested, wiggling his brows.

You gave him another lidded look, igniting a blistering fire deep in his bones. With your body still pressed to his - bodacious and oh-so-tempting - you brought a hand up. A beat of silence passed, as you moved his sunglasses up over his hair. Silver strands fell loose. You gazed into his puppy dog eyes directly. 

“And what makes you think I’d regret it?” You asked, your voice smooth and somewhat slurred. Oh...were you being real with him right now?

Your fingers traced flirty circles over his chest. Scorching flames in Peter’s heart burned warmth through his veins. Heat gathered in his groin. Peter’s eyes widened to a planetary degree. Clutching his solo cup a little too tight, he brushed your ass with his other hand. By accident. He only intended to pull you closer. You held his intoxicated gaze. 

Peter let his lips ghost yours again, without any direct connection.

“See, that’s-uhhh…hah…that’s just the booze talkin’.” He whispered with a soft chuckle. Steadily, he pulled himself from you, “Wanna know what it’s tellin’ me?” Peter gave you another lazy grin, nibbling his lip, “Youuuuuu and meee…” He sluggishly said. He dragged you along with him. Stumbling backwards, “...should-uh…gooooo have some…adult fun, yeah? A little romp in the hay?”

Did you know he meant that verbatim? Probably not.

Moments later, Peter clumsily navigated through the party. He made a beeline for the entrance hall, holding your hand the entire way. Floundering with every step, he traversed the crowded halls. Through each doorway the two of you passed, fluttering streamers dangled above. Soft tissue brushed across your face, tickling your nose.

The streamers proved more unkind to Peter. Staggering through the last doorway, he became tangled in them. Peter tried to shake the tissue off, twisting around and flailing his arms. He cursed aloud, making a spectacle of his embarrassing predicament. Caught in a web of orange and black, he looked like a Halloween decoration all his own. The streamers wrapped around his body and arms, even covering his head.

“MOTHER FU-” He cursed, jerking the tissue down with a rough tug. Peter tripped forward in the process. But he caught himself just in time. Compensating for his humiliation, he laughed, “I’m okay! I’m okay! Allllll good, guys. I’m good. Totally good! Meant to do that, actually.” Peter cleared his throat. He averted his glassy gaze from any partygoers nearby.

One of them being Hank, who stood alongside Raven. The two shared a few drinks and quietly chatted. The big, beast of man wore torn, red flannel. His blue fur peeked out from the undone buttons, appearing frayed. His costume? A smurf werewolf. A smurfwolf. Or something. Peter couldn't tell. And Raven? She hadn’t dressed up at all. Labeling Halloween: The one time of year she chose not to disguise herself. Why? Because, in her words, "It's funnier that way."

Raven stifled a laugh at Peter’s expense. But Hank didn’t hold himself back. He roared a rumbling chuckle, “I see the serum’s treating you well, Peter!” Hank teased, cradling a drink in his fluffy paw, “Why, it certainly looks that way. You seem to be having-uhm…fun? Yes! Fun. I'm delighted to see it!"

Peter idled in the middle of the doorway, swaying a little on his feet. Forgoing the streamers, he left them tangled around his limbs. Fuck it. His costume could use some added flair.

“I’m havin’ a-uhhhhh…a total blast, Beast my mannn!” Peter slurred. He passed Hank on his way out the mansion’s entrance. And roughly patted the scientist on the shoulder, “Thanks again, buddy ol’ pal! I owe you one!”

You giggled, beaming an elated smile as Peter dragged you out the door. Once you flew ungracefully by, Hank and Raven both did double takes. They gave you cautious looks, as if to say - uh, do you think this is a good idea? A little too sloshed, you failed to register their concern. Following Peter out the door with an inelegant skip in your step, you waved the pair goodbye.

“Well, now…that’s certainly going to be awkward for him tomorrow morning.” Hank joked, looking down at his drink. He swirled the beverage, the cup appearing itty bitty in his clutch. Showing off a crowd of snaggle teeth, he yawned.

Raven shook her head, scoffing, “Oh, it’ll bite him in the ass later. That’s for sure.” She added, sipping her own drink, “You proud of yourself?” Raven quipped, arching an orange brow. Hank held up a single claw, playful in his self defense.

“Not my fault! I gave him that serum because I thought he could have fun with it! And he is! Didn’t you see him? What he does under its influence is completely out of my jurisdiction!” Hank shrugged, stating in a matter-of-fact way, “I’ll have you know, I did try to warn him!”

In hindsight, Peter should have heeded Hank’s warnings. What he did under the effects of disco liquor proved supremely stupid. The nanosecond your feet hit the grass outside, he lost any restraint he had left. Peter kissed you full on. Ushering your sweet lips into an alcohol induced session of heavy smooching. Tongues interweaving, lackadaisical and reckless, the two of you shared careless kisses. Under decorative spider webs and amongst inflatable Snoopys.

But no Great Pumpkin in sight.

You slung your arms over Peter’s broad shoulders, letting him devour you. His sizable hands slid over your hips. He pulled you closer as he stumbled like a complete klutz. Thick fingers curled into the cloth of your dress. Caught up in the heat of the moment, Peter didn’t dare consider any consequences. With no filter to hold him back, one of his palms felt for your breast. He copped a handful, before you stopped him in his tracks. You tore your lips from his candy corn kisses.

“Heyyyy! Hey, hey, hey! Not here! What are you even doing??” You laughed, giving his nose an affectionate nuzzle, “Someone might see us, doofus!”

Peter hummed, pulling you against him in a more firm grip. He stole frantic kisses, heated and mouthy. Squeezing your hips, his nails scratched across your gown to your ass. Kneading your plush cheeks with little shame.

“So what? Let ‘em enjoy the show!” Peter snickered, diving in for yet another kiss, “I’m not gonna miss out on a chance to touch you like this. Now that I finally got you…”

Rolling your eyes, you didn’t seem to take him seriously. In an attempt to pull yourself away again, you stumbled backwards in the grass. Even with his reaction time outta wack, Peter managed to catch you before you fell. In one awkward motion, he scooped you up bridal style and carried you into the woods. The streamers coiled around his limbs came loose, at long last. Flitting away behind him in the wind.

He held you in his strong arms, following the mansion’s haunted, Halloween trail. The hayride already closed down for the night, leaving the trail - and the barn - open for some private necking.

Finding his way to the barn, Peter wobbled, slowing his stride. In his arms, you took a moment to admire the decorations he put so much effort into. Orange, twinkling lights lined the barn’s entryway. Vibrant in late night darkness. Magical, and kinda romantic. Through the trees in the distance, the garnished mansion appeared visible. A Halloweeny spectacle, engulfed in simulated fog.

Party music echoed from afar, faint, but clear enough he could hear. Peter perked up, overhearing a classic, Hallow’s eve tune.

“‘CUZ THIS IS THRILLLAHHHH!” Peter shouted off key, moving backwards into the barn. His steps were careless, “THRILLAH NIIIIGHT!” He sang, falling into a bed of cool hay. Strands of straw bounced in the air. You came down with him, and he kept singing, “AND NO ONE’S GONNA SAVE YA-” He cut himself off, leaning in to feast on your lips. Peter cradled you in his arms, humming Thriller amidst awkward kisses.

You laid bridal style over his legs, dipping your head back. Inviting Peter to devour your neck like a thirsty vampire. Without all the grace of Bela Lugosi. More like a hammered Nosferatu. If either of you had second thoughts, Peter couldn’t find it in himself to give a shit. He left that baggage behind. In the morning, sober Peter could unpack it all. Right now, he wanted his hands on your body, under your dress.

“Ohhhh~! Oh my-” You moaned, tacking on an erotic squeal of his name. Giggling in a kittenish tone. The sound made him wanna bite you harder, “W-Wait-...Peter, maybe we shouldn’t-oooooh~! Maybe we shouldn’t be-”

His sloppy kisses cut your hesitance short. Peter nodded his head in a lazy, loose motion. Bringing more dizziness upon himself.

“Mmmm? What? No-...” He hummed, “Baby, we should. We definitely should. Don’t even worry-” Peter paused for an abrupt beat. Holding you tight, he adjusted in the hay. Uncomfortable, Peter knitted his brows, “Wait-...this hay’s so-...why’s this hay so fuckin’ itchy, man?”

At the chime of your silly snorts and giggles, Peter’s words became lost on him. Whatever. It didn’t matter anymore. He couldn’t think clearly enough to recall them. Instead, he drew his attention back to you. Peter’s lips found your neck once more. Your floral scent replenished his lungs, a lifesource he desperately needed. Hot kisses peppered down your chest. In his clouded stupor, Peter buried his face between your breasts.

He loved the flustered squeal you made in response. Enough that he couldn’t help but do it again.

“Ohhhhh…hot damn, baby.” Peter groaned into your chest, motorboating your knockers. A graceless gesture. Lifting his face, his hair appeared a disheveled mess, “Yer so awesome, y’know that? Liiiike…yer really great. I know I’m pretty drunk right now, but-uhhhh…” He slurred, sneaking thick fingers under your dress, “I do mean it. No joke. I think yer really cool. Cool and-uhm…and-uh…hahaaa….I really like you.”

You erupted in more buzzed giggles, parting your lips to protest his drunken confession. But Peter silenced you with shushes, “Shhhhhhhh! Shhhhh, don’t-” He hiccuped. Your laughs were so contagious, he couldn’t help but giggle as well, “Shhhh! Don’t tell anybody!”

“I won’t! I won’t!” You chuckled, gently holding his cheeks. You pulled him down for more smooches, lips meeting in a slower embrace, “I like you too, Peter…but shhhhhh…keep it a secret.”

His fingertips danced along your inner thigh, clumsy and unsteady. Peter’s hand disappeared between your legs and under your gown. Hot digits grazed your panties. A flimsy, soaked piece of fabric awaited those digits. Breathing a low huff, Peter whispered, “Fuck.” into your neck. The steamy word tickled your skin, giving you chills.

Blindly, he wormed his fingers into your panties. Peter dipped his digits into your honeyed heat. Thick, syrupy cushions sealed around him. He focused on parting your tight walls. A little too uncoordinated to pleasure you in a more ideal way. Rough, repetitive motions curled at an awkward angle. Digging so deep, Peter could hear the squishy call of your insides - leaking wet, all for him. 

Your body tensed, knees spreading on instinct. Cool air caressed your thighs. Peering down into your lidded, baby doll eyes, he held your gaze. As your cunt pulsed around his digits, soft and constricting, he knitted his brows. Humming another groan, Peter dove down for your neck. He sucked mouthy, wet hickies into your skin. Leaving gifts for sober you to discover later tomorrow.

Speaking of sober.

Sober Peter never had trouble keeping up with anybody. Moreover, everyone else found it impossible to keep up with him. But in his buzzed daze, he could barely follow your lead. One blink, and his fingers buried themselves to the knuckle in your cunt. The next blink, you took initiative. Throwing him for a loop, you changed positions. You pushed Peter further back into the hay, straddling his lap.

As you fumbled for his jeans and pulled them open, more giggling ensued. Heated tension hung over the two of you like those glimmering, barn lights. You felt around, guiding your hand to a hot thickness in his pants. It rested in a curly bed of silver hairs, limp and untouched. Your giggles ceased, and your expression shifted.

“Peter, you’re not even-” You started, squeezing the softness of him in your hand. You gave him a few loose tugs, your voice teeming with hesitance, “Are you…are you sure you want-”

“Yeaaaahhhhh. Yeah. Yanno, it’s just-...I never thought I’d be the one gettin’ whiskey dick. Haha.” Peter joked, a low chuckle rumbling in his throat. Buzzed and uncoordinated, Peter harbored little patience for foreplay. His fingers sought for your weeping heat again. He pushed them through your soft, supple pussy lips, “Sucks a lot. I was really hopin’ I’d get to-uhmmm…ahahaaaa…” He bit his tongue, laughing, “Really wanted to show you a good fuckin’ time. But this shit feels like rocket science right now, sorry…”

Eventually, through sheer determination, you worked up enough sorcery to liven him up. Waking his cock from its soft slumber. Peter fumbled, clumsily guiding his dick to your flowery mound. It took some serious concentration on his part to do so. His tongue poked between his lips, brows furrowed tight. He leered between your sweltering bodies. Humid air clung to his skin, contrasting the sharp coolness of an October’s night. The smell of booze permeated in your sweat, mingling with the scent of your perfume. 

You sank over his cock, taking the now raging length of him fluidly. He bottomed out in a single intake of breath. Peter moaned, rolling his hips upward. Your fluttery walls stretched, cozy and soft around his dick. He dropped his head back into the hay, howling a goofy shout. It echoed through the trees, catching autumn wind.

"OHHHHHHH~! THAT'S IT! WHOOOOOO~!" He yelled. Peter chewed his lip hard, meeting your bounces with sluggish thrusts, "That's it. That's what I'm fuckin' talkin' about. Hoh-fuck..."

His rhythm was a little off beat, but he blamed the booze. Clenching the fabric of your dress in his fingers, he bunched it up tight. As if to hold you by horse’s reins, arduously guiding you on your ride.

Far in the back of his mind. Like, so far, Peter may as well have been on another planet. He had his first conflicting thought. Screwing you for the first time like this - hammered and careless - struck him as kind of…wrong. Really, he should have waited it out, and done this sober. But Peter couldn’t deny himself either.

"Peter, ohhh~! Feels really good~!" Your squeals of erotic, but sluggish pleasure sounded too much like music. Now cemented as one of his all time favorite songs, "Sooo good, I-aaahhh~!"

The bubbly feeling brought upon by Beast liquor made his body burn with ecstasy. His cock throbbed inside you, loving the tight embrace of your walls. Pleasure burned to an incomprehensible level of intensity. 

Even your dress felt unreasonably soft on his skin. Peter moaned again, drilling your cunt in unsteady surges of carnal bliss. He breathed thickly, the air between the two of you now sweltering. Choking on air, he kept his slow pace. His cock dug tunnels through your walls at a slacking speed. Completely unnatural for him. But overflowing with intoxication, he thrived in it.

“N-Not gonna-” Peter laughed. His voice a rough, breathless mess of incoherency. Sticky heat flushed his cheeks, and his tone wavered, “‘M not-...god…not gonna last. Fuck. Oh my fucking-” He swallowed another groan, suffocating on it. Peter’s hips rolled, their movement leisurely, “Sooooo tight. Feels like yer tryna-...like yer gonna-...aaaahaaaaafuck.”

Playing with your pearly clit, you squealed. The swollen nub burned, tingling as you circled it. With difficulty focusing, Peter brought his head up. He watched your little fingers while you pleasured yourself. His lidded, dark eyes stared, so spacy, so clouded. A growl caught in the back of his throat. You toyed with yourself a little longer, spreading glossy slickness under your fingers.

Your whines stayed at a respectable volume. Quiet enough, no one outside the barn could hear. But Peter refused to keep his enthusiastic voice down. He dug his big hands into your hips, fingernails clenching your dress. Scratching rough lines into the white cloth.

"Fuck, you gonna-...you gonna keep touchin' yourself like that? Gonna cum for me?" His words slurred. Peter used his immeasurable strength to hold you in place. Stuffing his cock through your pussy’s luscious, spongy grip. He fucked you in lethargic, but needy ruts, "P-Please-ohmygod-...please cum for me, baby. Lemme hear it, please?"

"Noooo~! Pe-ahhhh~! Peter, I cannnn't! Someone might-...Peter I can't-" You whimpered. Swirling your clit, you pushed yourself even further towards climax. A delightful, oncoming wave of scorching pleasure surged in your body. Sizzling through your veins, "OH, FUCK, QUICKIE~!" A sharp squeal bounced from your throat, as Peter surprised you.

"FUCK!! Yeah? You sound so fuckin'-Ah-...Yer so fuckin' good for me. Don't hold back, baby. Wanna-ohhhh~! Wanna hear you scream. Don't you fuckin' hold back-" Moving suddenly fast, he slammed his cock in deeper. His cherry red dick shattered your poor cervix. Burying himself to the brim, he slapped your mound hard with sharp pounds of his pelvis, "Mmmmmmfucking-...gonna fuckin'....aaaahhaha..."

Peter’s body tensed. His heels scuffed along the ground, crushing hay under his boots as he braced his feet. More loose strands tickled his skin where his shirt bunched up. Making him itchy again. But his intoxicated rutting never dwindled. He whined again, his voice cracking. Ruthless, quickening grinds of his cock knocked you hard. Sending you straight into a dimension of overwhelming, euphoric pleasure.

As tremors hummed across your sweaty skin, bliss ruptured deep in your core. At that moment, Peter forgot to consider any further risks. He burst with a hot, white pop of gluey heat. Rocking your sore cunt in sloppy, shallow thrusts. Peter soaked his dick in your sweet, inebriated love. The scent of booze and sex simmered in his nostrils. Lifting his hips, he met you in one or two more reckless, offbeat bounces.

Barely conscious of reality, Peter panted. Lying with you in a clumsy heap, he shared lazy kisses and steamy breaths with you. Had he been anymore sober, Peter would’ve rushed you off to the nearest bathroom. In dire need of a minute’s recovery, he laid there. Splayed out, Peter’s limbs rested loose and flimsy. The seconds passed, and he sobered up quickly. Post-orgasmic haziness began to clear.

You snuggled up next to him, grazing his cheek with your nose. The scent of alcohol lingered on your breath. Remind Peter that, unlike him, you were probably still a little drunk.

“You okay?” You asked out of the blue, tickling his neck with a giggle, “What are you thinking about? You’re not second guessing yourself already, are you?” Your fingers toyed with the zipper of his jacket. Which he gave you to wear in the cold, shortly after fucking you senseless.

In the distance, the faint roar of the party continued on. Rustling from inside the mansion and seemingly endless. Peter stayed silent, before snickering. He turned his head to the side, returning your nuzzles with a kiss. His lips met your hair. The smell of your conditioner made his heart skip a beat for some reason.

“Nothin’. It’s not-” He shrugged, turning his head again. Peter stared up at the glittering string lights hanging in the barn. His coffee bean eyes jumped from twinkle to twinkle, “It’s not super important. Kinda weird to be thinkin’ about it after-uh…” His voice trailed off again. Peter cleared his throat, feeling his cheeks flush, “Seriously, no big deal.”

You rolled onto your back, watching the lights sway in a cool breeze, “You sure?” You laughed, humming an, “Uh ohhh!” Before you continued, “Did somebody sober up and realize he made a dumb mistake? Hehe…” You teased, though he could hear the sliver of hesitance in your tone. A beat of silence passed, and you hugged his jacket closer.

“Regret wh-...huh? Nahhh, baby. You kiddin’? That was awesome.” He snickered awkwardly. Peter brought his hands to his face. He sighed, “I-uh…I was just thinkin’ about how…I could be spendin’ this holiday with my dad. I mean, shit…maybe he wouldn’t wanna spend it with me, but-”

He assumed you might take offense to this. Wouldn't it come off as a little inconsiderate? To think about his dad right now. After such an intimate moment between the two of you. But being the understanding person you were, you rolled over to face him. Drawing gentle lines into his shirt, you snuggled up close to him again.

“Is that where you wanna be right now? With your dad?” You asked, your tone gentle.

Peter swallowed, pinching the bridge of his nose. A pounding headache swarmed him from nowhere. The repercussions of Beast hooch. Hopefully, such ailments would pass just as quickly as he sobered up.

“I-...yeah? I guess? But…it’s not like I can just-...like, I can’t go see him. Since he still doesn’t know about me, y’know? It’d be weird if I just showed up on Halloween. Like, hey, man, wanna hang out? Goddammit.” Peter shook his head, sitting up fully in the hay. Straw-like strands stuck to his clothes. He brushed them away.

“Well…hey, I got an idea, yeah?” You tried to follow his lead, sitting upward. Swaying a little as you did, Peter could tell you were still on the edge of tipsy. You giggled, “Let’s go inside. And I’ll…try to get everyone together for a movie. Maybe a horror? And you can run off! Go find him. Use the movie as an excuse. Offer him the opportunity to come down and watch. Sound good?”

It didn’t. Erik wasn’t the type to indulge in such activities. Still, Peter smiled fondly at your consideration. Nodding, he stood to his feet in a flash. You blinked, finding yourself lying bridal style in his arms again. With a hand to his chin, you tilted his head down. Pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

“Thanks…” He hummed, his half lidded eyes gazing down into yours, “I really did have…such an awesome time with you. I haven't done that kinda thing with anybody in a while. But lemme-uh…” Peter bashfully chuckled, “Lemme get you to a bathroom so you can clean up, 'kay? ”

After the surprisingly deep chat he shared with you, Peter rushed you off to a mansion bathroom. Leaning against a wall, he waited outside the door. As the party settled and people filed out into the streets, he became more nervous. The two of you spent the rest of the night together, by the other’s side. Treating each other as normally as you would any other day. Soon, you sobered up enough to gather the X-family for a late night movie.

Peter took your advice, despite expecting the worst. Zipping upstairs and all through the mansion, he searched for his estranged father. To Peter’s surprise, Erik caught him off guard with a yes. But before he made his way downstairs, Peter took a moment to chat with him. He asked Erik how he was doing, and what he’d been up to. Ever since he chose the mansion for a temporary hideout (an arrangement most everybody felt uncomfortable with).

Erik - for good reason - wasn’t the most emotionally open. He kept their conversation short, before dismissing Peter. They both caught up with everyone else in the living room. The X-family sat together with snacks and drinks, joined for a movie. Erik chose a spot next to Peter on one of the sofas. Something he hadn’t anticipated at all. Since he didn’t get much out of the guy too often, he felt he could settle for his company, at least.

Sitting at Peter's other side, you eventually passed out. You rested your head on his lap, and he raked his fingers through your hair. By the time the movie ended, everyone veered off for bed. At last, calling Hallow’s eve quits. But Erik remained. He spoke to Peter a little while longer. Chatting about nothing at all, and everything at once.

Come next morning, Peter stood tiredly in the mansion kitchen. It was an unreasonably cold Monday in November. Freezing weather seemed to hit Westchester out of nowhere. He held a mug full of coffee, milky white and loaded with enough sugar to send anyone else to the hospital. Scratching his head over a mess of silver hair, Peter yawned. Even though he had more important things to worry about, he couldn't stop thinking about last night. For several reasons.

The impromptu bonding time he spent with his father lingered in his mind. Even if said father didn’t know what their interactions meant to Peter. It happened all thanks to your tipsy encouragement. Peter knew, even sober, you would’ve pushed him to do the same. Because you cared about him that much. Always inspiring him to step out of his comfort zone.

Aside from the estranged dad stuff, Peter couldn’t stop thinking about you. And the more…steamy moments the two of you shared. Intimate interactions he still hadn’t sat down and discussed with you. Peter didn't have a clue what that little fling meant to you. Or if it meant anything at all. Distracting himself, he focused his attention elsewhere. Like the Halloween decorations littered about the mansion. He planned to take them down today after classes.

You came padding downstairs and into the kitchen not even five minutes later.

“Gooooood morning!” You cheerily said, blinking your sleepy eyes. Groaning, you brought a hand to your head. Your fingers touched your temple, “You know what’s surprising? I actually don’t have that bad of a hangover!”

Peter’s heart did flips, and he felt his stomach tangle in knots. Humming into his coffee, he threw you a casual nod of his head. Play it cool, “Mmmm. That’s good, though, right?”

You headed straight for the cabinets, standing on your toes to reach the highest one. You flailed around for the near-empty tub of coffee grounds. He left it up there without any consideration for short, mansion inhabitants like you. Totally absent-minded. Peter almost felt thankful he did. As you reached, the itty bitty, sleep shorts you wore rose by a touch. The cheeks of your ass caught his eye. Your bottom appeared etched in faint scratches, painted with red splotches. Damn…what the hell did he do to you last night?

Sipping his coffee with a groggy look on his face, Peter grinned.

Man alive, he wanted to screw you sober. Doing it drunk really wasn’t enough. Quickly, he dismissed that thought. Filing it away in his scatterbrained memory for later.

“Did you talk to Erik last night?” You asked, pulling Peter from his not-so-safe-for-work thoughts. You stretched a little further up, really reaching for that tin tub of Folgers.

Peter blinked, “Sorry, what?”

“Erik. I asked if you talked to him last night? Because I kinda remember you two having a chat. But then again, I was pretty out of it!” Your shorts hugged the shape of your cunt as you stood on your toes. An ache stirred in his groin, but he shook it off. Holy shit. What were you trying to accomplish here?

Peter’s heart skipped twenty beats. Sifting through the disorganized cabinets in his brain, he retrieved his previous thought. Ah, yeah. Screwing you sober? Not a want, but a need at this point. Focus, Quickie. He needed to focus. Especially if you planned on talking about something as important as his father.

“Uhhhh…” He ran a hand through his messy locks, taking a moment to process his racing thoughts, “Yeah, we talked. Not a lot, though. I meant to say thanks for that, by the way. Since I didn’t get to last night…” Peter brought his mug to his lips, averting his gaze, “Really. Thanks a lot. Don’t think we woulda had that time together, if you hadn’t pushed me to ask him 'n stuff.”

Still struggling to reach for that tin, you sighed. Your heels hit the floor, as you lowered your arm and turned to meet Peter’s eyes. Your sweet voice brought him an unexpected feeling of comfort. 

“Hey, anytime, Peter! I know it’s been really hard for you. Seeing him around here lately. And you don’t need me to tell you the obvious. But-” You timidly gazed down at your toes, shrugging. Peter knew exactly what you were about to say, before you parted your lips to say it.

Something along the lines of: Maybe it’s finally time you told him the truth. Or whatever.

It was too early for this kinda deep, introspective talk. Peter didn’t give you the chance to continue. Setting aside his mug on a countertop, he appeared by your side in a fwip. The breeze from his abrupt movement tickled your cheeks. He reached into the cabinet for the tub of coffee grounds. Handing it off to you with a tired, hooded expression. He sluggishly grinned.

“We got class in, like, twenty minutes.” Peter interrupted, and you took the bait. Whether you knew of his intent to dissuade the previous conversation, he couldn’t tell.

“Oh! Yeah! Shit!” You slapped a hand over your forehead. Peter gazed down at you, admiring your early morning features, “I’m so screwed!” Not yet you’re not, “I totally forgot to put together a lesson plan! I don’t know what the hell I’m gonna do today!” Well…you could always do him. Again.

Jeez. Dude. No. The hell’s wrong with him?? Be reasonable, guy! At least take your buddy out to dinner first. Which...yeah. Might be time to think about asking you on a real date.

“Yeahhh. I kinda forgot too. Had a bunch of other stuff on my mind, yanno?” Peter said, completely lethargic. He shrugged, “I’m so bad at my job, man.” He kept his eyes on you, as you threw together your own pot of coffee.

“Actually, that’s bullshit. And I think you know it too. You’re amazing at it. That’s why all the kids love you so much.” You replied. Smiling like you meant every word. Because you did. Man, why'd you have to be so freakin' sweet?

Early morning sunlight beamed through the windows. It bathed your hair and face in sparkling gold. Peter wanted to kick himself for swooning. He opted to change subjects.

“I gotta take these decorations down eventually.” He said, gesturing to the streamers hanging from the kitchen ceiling. For an instant, he remembered tangling himself in them last night, “I keep puttin’ it off. But it’s gotta happen sooner ‘er later.” Taking initiative, he reached up to tear some of them down. Balling them up in his hands.

“I could help you! If you need an extra hand!” You offered, innocently sipping your coffee. Peter took in the curl of your lips as you smiled. He cleared his throat, chuckling.

“Y’know you don’t have to, babe. It’ll literally only take me a second. I just gotta stop sittin’ on my ass.” Peter said. He tossed the balled streamers with a failed, Michael Jordan-style execution. They landed in a nearby trashcan, “Pretty soon, I’m gonna have to put Christmas decorations up too. Might get started on 'em as soon as these ‘re down.” He smirked, “I’m thinkin’ I get everyone some seriously ugly sweaters. Even Mags, if he's still around by then. Oh, and I'll need more Snoopys. The crotch goblins love Snoopy.” Peter paused for a beat, his dark eyes drifting down your body. A subconscious instinct, “And-uhhhh…gonna need lots of tinsel…uh…”

Peter reached for his coffee mug. What was he talking about again?

“Oh? That all sounds nice!” You tilted your head to the side, flirtatiously grinning at Peter. As if you could tell how distracted he was by your body. Heat set aflame in his cheeks, as he glanced up into your eyes. Noticing the way they seemed to twinkle, “Think you’ll decorate the barn again too?” You asked, a flirtatious tease pouring through your tone.

He choked on his coffee mid-sip.

[poppy-metal]

uH my dirtiest thought about eddie & is a modern pornstar au i was thinking of writing where steve is known for softer stuff (like owen gray), you're known for something similar (good girl stuff, nothing crazy but known for having a great body + excellent moans), and eddie is RENOWNED for being an amazing dom. when u announce a collab with the both of them, there are whispers amongst ur fans in the "one of these things is not like the other" vein where it's like ??? what could this be. yeah turns out u + steve wanted to break into hardcore stuff so it's like an hour long film with the both of them torturing you in the most delicious way possible - edging you with a vibe, sitting on a sybian while you suck their cocks, speaking over you as if you aren't there, fucking your ass open so both of them can come inside of it, spanking you until you're sobbing...all of it. beforehand they make sure you get your make up done so throughout you slowly see the setting spray lose its grip and mascara + eyeliner is running down your face. once the cameras stop, though, the aftercare is immaculate - cold water, cuddles, praise, snacks, rubbing your body through the shakes. im obsessed w pornstar eddie what can i say (i also think steve deserves to get his rocks off in a tight pussy. he probably deserves it or whatever)

LUKISSSS

no bc....dom eddie, switch steve, n sub reader....think abt it often. thinking of eddie coaching steve on how to be harder on you. "gonna let er' talk to you like that, big guy?" all while stroking steves heavy cock and kissing his neck. "know you have it in you, stevie. dont you wanna turn that little ass out?"

when you get the first spank you yelp, and kick your feet out, whining and crying about how it hurts. steve is ready to apologize, ready to turn to the cameras and ask to cut the scene when he sees the way your cunt drips.

its a blur after that. a blur that leaves your ass stinging and your jaw aching from abuse, ends with you spread eagle on the bed with your hands and feet chained to four corners as steve and eddie take turns fucking into your sloppy cunt.

you're all puffy and dripping and your lips and clit are enflamed from the constant onslaught of stimulation its taken.

eddie fucks you and you're so out of he doesn't bother talking to you, "cunts like this break in so easy. not such a good girl now, huh? anyone could just slide right in, use this little hole like a fleshlight." he leans into you, kisses your ear, nd says, just so you can hear, "you're being so good, baby. taking this so well, better than i ever imagined."

n when its steves turn, n hes spreading that creamy pussy open on his cock and pounding into you, hard and deep, you can't do anything more than just lay there and take it. eddie isn't helping, kissing and biting at his neck, murmuring "you've been such a good dom, honey, just need to fill her up. you're gonna, huh? cum inside that little pussy, make it all sloppy."

n steves gasping, gripping your hips as he drags his cock in and out, "uh huh." he groans, "g-gonna give it to her. gonna make her take it- feels so fucking good, oh my god this is such a good cunt-"

its like all three of you have forgotten you're on camera. and that's what makes it so fucking good.

[nessinborderland]

Hungry for You

Pairing: Yoon Gwinam x Reader

Genre: Smut, Angst, Dark fic

Word Count: 5k

Summary: You want to stay alive.

In your school, zombies roam the halls and death is certain. Unknown to you, a bigger threat lingers nearby, and he's hungry. Lucky for you, he doesn't want you dead either. He just wants you as dead as he is.

Warnings⚠️ Extremely Dubious Consent, Vaginal Sex, Character Death, Blood and Violence, Blood and Gore

Notes: This work was inspired by a request that was sent via my google forms. Thank you to the anon that requested it, this was a fun one to write ;)

If you enjoyed it, please consider leaving a heart and reblogging <3

AO3 | Masterlist

Plunk! Tink! Bum! Bang!

You can’t listen to that fucking piano anymore. Your head hurts for a multitude of reasons, and the goddamn piano noise just outside is going to make you lose your mind, you’re sure of it.

Who are you kidding? You feel like you have lost it already. The last thirty-something hours have been nothing but a hell straight out of your foulest nightmares, and you can’t wait for it to end so you can go home and sleep the headache away. But that seems something further and further from happening with every passing hour.

A zombie apocalypse. A fucking zombie apocalypse. You can’t believe that something as unbelievable as the dead rising is fucking real. You refuse to believe it.

All you want is to sleep – beyond tired from all the running, the crying, and the fear that still makes your heartbeat race – but that seems to be impossible. Your back and neck hurt from your half-sitting, half-lying position against the wooden closet behind you, and your eyes sting from hours of crying and lack of sleep. You sigh; what you wouldn’t give right now to be safe and sound in your bed.

Tink! Bang! Plunk!

You cover your ears with a grunt and change positions on the bench you’re in, stretching your legs that are starting to tingle from being bent for so long. Your feet collide with your companion’s thigh, and you mumble a quick apology before bending your legs again with a sigh.

“It’s okay,” comes the weak reply.

You glance at the girl in front of you, eyebrows furrowing as you take in her almost catatonic state. Lee Nayeon; that’s her name.

She saved your life.

You had been so close to being a zombie meal, your legs almost giving up on you as you tried to find someone or something, or somewhere that would help you stay alive. You got inside that classroom by sheer luck, and it was by Nayeon’s grace alone that you didn’t die outside that room. If she had never opened the door for you, you would be growling with the other monsters in the corridor, waiting for the chance to sink your teeth into the flesh of the living.

So here you are, you and your companion, seemingly alone in a school that quickly became a death trap, with zombies growling in the halls and a piano grinding on your nerves.

“That’s it, I’m stopping that thing,” you proclaim as you rush to get up, limping on prickly legs as you make your way to the door.

You hesitate, your hand on the handle; is it safe? You know the answer to that: a big, fat, NO.

“What’re you doing?” Nayeon questions, her tone hesitant as she glances at your hand before looking at your face. “It’s not safe.”

“I know,” you say with a nod, followed by a gulp as you take up the courage to unlock the door. The sound of it unlocking makes you slightly jump, and your shoulders tighten as you slowly open the door just a crack. “I wanna stop the noise, that’s all.”

The adjacent room is messy, with broken furniture and musical instruments painting a chaotic scene together with the blood on the floor, but at least it appears to be empty. You are aware of the couple of zombies trapped in the room, their growls making it easier to pinpoint where they are in the dark room. You open the door a little more before remembering that the sliding doors that access the corridor are wide open.

“Nope,” you say to yourself as you close the door again, cringing as it makes a loud noise. You let out a small whimper as the zombies in the room start a wave of agitating noises, no doubt alerted by the sound of you carelessly closing the door.

You hold your breath as you wait for them to calm down, hoping that no zombies were alerted by their ruckus. The last thing you need right now is even more zombies in the area.

“Do you think that the piano will attract others here?” Nayeon’s voice right beside you startles you, and you turn to face her.

“Yeah, that’s why I’m trying to make it stop,” you answer in a whisper, “but I’m scared more will come. The sliding door is open.”

“I’ll help.”

You nod, taking a deep breath before forcing yourself to open the door a second time. Everything seems as calm as before, the growls of the trapped zombies now back to normal. You glance at the lit hallway, relieved at seeing it empty.

“Okay so,” you start, “I’m going to stop the piano while you close the door and keep watch, okay?” Nayeon nods and you give her a brief smile. “Cool, let’s do this then.”

~+

“You were supposed to keep watch!” you loudly whisper, trying your best not to shout your words. You shoot a fearful glance at the door, where new zombies bang against it with all their might, and you feel like sobbing. Fresh blood slides down your arm and drops to the floor, and your whole body shakes as you try not to panic from the burning scratch on your forearm. You see red from how furious you are. “I was almost bitten back there because of you!”

“I’m sorry!” Nayeon pleads with tears in her eyes. “I got distracted and–”

“And I almost died!” You push her then, unable to control your rage as your voice raises in tone. She falls back against the bench, eyes on the video camera in her hands. You feel your anger grow. “And all for a goddamn camera?”

“I said I was sorry, okay?” she snaps, sending you a look that reminds you a lot of the Nayeon you are more familiar with. “You don’t have to be a bitch about it, it’s not like they bit you!” You were never friends, or even in the same class, but you always knew her as the preppy rich girl with a superiority complex. And here she is, proving herself as exactly that.

“Fuck you,” is all you say as you remove yourself to a corner of the room, grabbing a roll of toilet paper with shaky hands from a nearby box before sitting back on the floor against the shelves.

You do your best to clean up your wound as you try your hardest not to panic. Is a scratch enough for you to get infected? Is this how you will die? By turning into those awful monsters?

At least I’ll eat her as revenge, you think to yourself before shaking those thoughts away. You don’t want that to happen, doesn’t matter that you almost died because of her recklessness. You want both of you to live. That’s all you want right now.

A sound from across the room makes you look at Nayeon, that is focused on the video on the camcorder like nothing else matters. Some voices and names sound familiar, but you’re too tired and dizzy to focus exactly on what they’re saying. Still, hearing other people brings you some comfort, and you’re dozing off to sleep before you realize it.

~+

A sudden noise startles you awake, and you open your eyes wide to search the dark room, fearing the worst. Nayeon is standing across from you, filling her bag with the food and drinks from the shelves with a vigor you can only describe as desperate. You can still hear someone talking from the video camera.

How long have I been asleep? you ask yourself as you feel your injury burn. A look at it tells you that at least it has stopped bleeding.

“What’re you doing?” you ask her, hating the way your voice sounds. Your head hurts now more than ever, and you consider going back to sleep.

“I’m just–”

She interrupts herself before finishing her words, and you look up at her with a raised brow, sensing that something is wrong but unable to realize what.

“It’s my fault he died,” says someone in the video, grief clear in the boy’s tone. “Please let his grandma know.”

Your eyes widen at the words, and you think you just realized why Nayeon is staring at the camcorder with such intensity, a tremble to her lower lip.

“You know them?” you ask. She nods, and that’s all the answer you need. “I’m sorry.”

You stay quiet, deep in your thoughts as the words in the background go by you. You don’t know these people personally, but their faces are familiar. They are students, just like you. Teenagers with dreams and hopes that suddenly don’t matter anymore. All that matters now is surviving; at least to you. Still, most die, as shown by the dead walking just outside this door you’re hiding behind. Kids are dying in here. Outside the school grounds too, for all you know.

Maybe that’s why no one has come to our rescue after almost three days, you think to yourself, quickly shaking those thoughts away; losing hope won’t help you stay alive.

A beep snaps you out of your thoughts, and you look back at Nayeon to see that the camera has seemingly run out of battery. She’s looking in your direction; but not at you. At something beside you.

You glance in the direction of her stare, relieved and confused by seeing nothing but a wall and more furniture. There’s no one there, but the look on her face makes you believe she’s seeing a ghost.

Nayeon suddenly drops the bag in her hands, and you watch as the look on her face deepens into something you can’t quite comprehend, but looks a lot like grief and regret. She hugs her knees to her chest and buries her face against them. Her shoulders start to shake.

“I killed them,” you hear her whisper in a tone so low you have to force yourself to comprehend her words.

“W-What?”

“I killed them,” she repeats in a shaky voice. “They’re dead because of me.”

Before you can process her words, she stands up and reaches for the bag on the floor, refilling it with food and beverages with newfound vigor before heading for the door.

“Wait, where are you going?” you ask with wide eyes, forcing yourself to get up and follow her. Your scratch still hurts like hell, but at least it has stopped bleeding. That – and the fact that you’re yet to crave the flesh of the living – brings you some relief.

“Got to go back to them,” is all she says as she opens the door and walks out.

You follow, hesitating by the door as you see her peek into the corridor. You quietly walk towards her and pull her by the hand, hoping that the zombies lurking in the hallway aren’t attracted by your presence.

“What’re you doing?” you whisper, trying to pull her with you back inside the room. She shakes her arm off your grip. “This is dangerous!”

“They’re on the roof,” she explains, eyes wide as they lock on yours. They look desperate as she passes by you to search for something near the wall. “They don’t have any food or water, so I’m bringing them some. I have to help–”

Bang!

The sound of a door shutting roughly behind you makes you both jump, and you turn around to look at the source of the noise. Relief floods through you as you see who it is, the sight of seeing someone else alive – even if it’s him – filling you with hope. You had avoided thinking about him at all since this all started, but part of you was sure he was dead. You should’ve known better.

“Gwinam!” you exclaim at seeing the tall boy, a smile gracing your lips as you take a step closer. Your smile quickly drops as you take in his appearance.

Something isn’t right.

He’s covered in blood, white jacket stained red. But that is not what worries you.

“W-What happened to your eye?” you ask, gulping at the expression on his face. You reflexively take a step back as he takes a step forward, the way he looks at you sending a chill down your spine. Something is very very wrong. “Gwinam?”

“What’s that?” he asks instead with a nod in Nayeon’s direction, ignoring your questions.

“It’s… nothing.”

“Well…” he says, passing by you, his eyes locked on Nayeon. “I have to go to the roof. But the door’s locked. So, I’m going that way,” he says while pointing at the window.

You stare at him in surprise; what is going on?

“You’re not a zombie, are you?” Nayeon asks in a hesitant tone, her eyes jumping to you before she focuses back on him. You can see the growing fear in her eyes.

Something is very very wrong.

“Zombie? Fuck that!” You can’t help but flinch at Gwinam’s tone. He might not be a zombie, but he is starting to scare you almost as much as one. He was never kind, but this is not normal – even for him. “So, is that food?”

“Yes, we–”

He interrupts your attempt at claiming his attention. “Are you hungry?”

“Gwinam, what’s–”

“I’m not talking to you, am I?” he snaps at you, turning his bad eye in your direction before focusing back on Nayeon. “Are you, huh? Are you hungry?

Nayeon nods.

“Me too.”

You hear it more than you see it. The scream; the gurgling sounds; the blood spraying the room – spraying you – and dripping onto the floor.

The look on Nayeon’s face as Gwinam buries his face in her neck and starts to feed.

It all happens so fast that you have no reaction but to freeze for the first few seconds. Your heartbeat quickens and your knees tremble, and you do anything but stare as Gwinam pulls Nayeon to him before biting into her neck with a disgusting, wet sound. Blood spatters and dribbles onto the floor as you watch him feed on the girl like she’s nothing but a bag of blood, the slurping sounds coming from his feeding making you retch as you double over and fall to your knees, eyes unable to leave the carnage in front of you.

You see the moment life vanishes out of Nayeon’s eyes, her body going limp before falling to the ground. Then slowly, he turns to you, and your eyes lock.

“What about you,” he takes a step forward, a gory smirk on his bloodied face. “Are you hungry?”

You have to run, or he will eat you too, screams the voice in your head.

He’s so much faster than you. Or maybe your eyes give it away. Either way, he’s grabbing you before you can even attempt to escape.

His strong hands squeeze your wrists in a tight grip, and you gasp as he forces you to stand up and shoves you against the wall with so much force it pushes the air out of your lungs. The look in his eyes is predatory. Hungry.

“Do you have any idea how good you smell?” he asks, leaning towards you to run his nose against your pulse. You jump at his touch, whimpering as his tongue licks your skin. “I bet you taste fucking amazing.”

You’re about to die; you’re sure of it. He’s going to eat you alive, just like he did with Nayeon.

“Please,” you beg, shaking your head in supplication. “Please don’t.”

He laughs. Like you said something funny. Nothing about the last three days has been funny.

“Lucky for you, I’m not hungry anymore,” he says, and you almost relax in his grip. But the look of bloodthirst in his good eye doesn’t let you.

Gwinam was always… complicated, to put it simply. You’ve known him for as long as you’ve attended Hyosan High School. In the beginning, he was just another classmate. Yes, he was cute, but he was also mean most of the time and liked to hang out with the wrong crowd, so you avoided him as much as possible.

Until you couldn’t.

When he asked you on a date – all red ears and avoiding eye contact – you had half a brain to say ‘no’. In retrospect, that’s exactly what you should’ve done, but the younger you was beyond happy to have a boy like you enough to ask you out.

So, you said ‘yes’, a shy smile on your face and the fantasies of a naive girl running through your head as you accepted his request.

Your relationship evolved naturally from there, and before you knew it he was stealing kisses when no one was around and touching your hand when you passed by each other in the hallways. It quickly became something more, with heated make-out sessions that ended with both of you naked and panting.

It was good; until it wasn’t. It broke your heart to end it, but you couldn’t ignore what he did anymore. How his group – him – treated others so badly that they dropped out or hurt themselves. Even to you, he was toxic; jealous, possessive, pushy… It took you some time to realize, but you knew he wasn’t good for you.

That was almost a year ago. You’ve barely said a word to each other since then, but – to your surprise and relief – he never tried to seek revenge after your breakup.

You hope that part of him still likes you enough to keep you alive.

“Are you going to- to eat me?” you can barely choke out your question amidst your sobbing. Funny; you were sure your tear ducts had run out of tears. Apparently not.

“No.” His answer makes you relax just a bit; you know he’s not lying. He’s not going to eat you. But that doesn’t mean he’s not going to hurt you.

“T-Then are you–”

“I’m not letting you go either,” he says in a decisive tone. That’s when he leans his head to the side, observing you like he’s seeing your face for the first time. One of his hands releases your wrist to catch a falling tear, following its path up your face until his palm is cradling your cheek. It’s surprisingly gentle. “Why are you crying? You never cried before.”

“You’re scaring me,” you whimper, not able to control the tremor in your voice. “Please let me go.”

He scoffs, thumb wiping away your tears.

“Remember when we used to fuck after school? I swear I can still smell you on my sheets. Fuck,” he swears, pressing his forehead against yours. A sob escapes your lips at the proximity, and he chuckles. “You used to make the prettiest noises. I wanna hear you moan like that again. It’s been way too long.”

His body presses against yours at the same time he forces you into a kiss.

“No!” You cry out at the feeling of blood on your mouth and face, gagging when he deepens the kiss. You push him away with all your strength, but he barely budges. “Stop!”

A loud crash from behind you is what finally has him release you. You scream as a hoard of zombies barges into the room, you the clear target of their hunt. Gwinam barely reacts to the intrusion, grunting in frustration as he throws you into the other room before any of the dead can get you.

You fall to your knees as he closes the door behind him, and you do nothing but stare as you hear what goes on outside, the swears of Gwinam indicating that he’s fighting them off in some way. How he’s doing that, you can’t even begin to imagine.

Whatever he is, you’re sure of one thing: he’s not human anymore. Not completely.

The commotion outside lasts a few minutes, and you hold your breath as the last growl gives place to an eerie silence. Then, the doorknob turns, and in comes Gwinam, alive and well despite the blood on his clothes, skin, and hair. You can’t believe he’s alive. A small part of you wonders if he is alive.

You say nothing and stay on the floor, waiting for him to do or say something. But Gwinam barely sends you a glance before walking to the couch and sitting down with a sigh, his good eye closing as he leans his head against the wall.

“Why are you doing this?” you ask after your sobs have subsided. You can’t take the silence anymore.

“Why shouldn’t I?” he scoffs with a shrug, opening his eye to finally look at you. A chill runs down your back at the intensity of his gaze. You want him to look away.

“You ate her.”

“Be glad I didn’t eat you.”

That makes you shut up. You could be like Nayeon right now, body rigid and growing cold as your own blood sticks to your skin. Dead. But you’re not. That’s when you remember the blood in your mouth. Her blood. You rush to clean your bloodied face, gagging at the taste of it on your tongue.

“Are you going to kill me?” You rasp out after a moment of dry heaving.

“Not thinking about it, no. Why? Feel like dying?”

You shake your head, new tears falling down your cheeks. You want to live. You really do.

And that’s why you stand up, eyes not daring to meet his as you straddle his lap, hands hesitantly going on his shoulders as you try not to gag from all the blood on his face. The same blood that is also on your face, even though you did your best to clean it off. The blood that belongs to neither of you.

Without a word, you use the sleeve of your shirt to wipe off the blood on the bottom half of his face. If you’re going to do this, you’re not doing it with Nayeon’s blood on his skin.

He watches you in silence, a light smirk on his lips that only widens when you start to unbutton your shirt, button by button. You can feel his heated gaze on you, burning you in a way that makes you want to press your thighs together. You know what he wants, and you don’t think you have any good options but to give it to him. It’s not like it’s your first time, anyway. Sex with him, if anything, is familiar.

Gwinam’s impatience gets to him, and he’s soon ripping your shirt open, buttons popping to the ground. You yelp as he roughly palms your breasts, ripping your bra apart before pulling them into his mouth. You close your eyes at the sensation of his warm tongue on your nipples, trying not to think about how he was eating someone not even twenty minutes ago.

This all feels like a nightmare, and you want it to end. But fuck, does he know how to touch you.

His mouth trails its path up your chest to the curve of your neck, marking your skin in ways that make you shiver and wonder when he’ll break your skin and turn you into a monster. Just like him.

You shiver at the thought, and he must take it as a sign of enjoyment because he’s pulling you down for another kiss before you can stop him, soft lips roughly forcing yours to respond to him as he tastes your mouth. A whimper escapes you as his teeth graze your bottom lip, his smirk clear as he stops you from pulling away.

So, you quickly give in.

When he breaks the kiss to pull your body under him, you let him. When he lifts your skirt and rips off your panties, you open your legs wider, ashamed of the wetness that shows him just how ready you are to get him inside you. His fingers are rough and fast as he touches you, thumb pressing on your clit as two of his fingers stretch you for him, making you arch your back and sway your hips as you chase more of that shameful pleasure.

“I’ve missed this pretty pussy of yours,” he groans against your ear as you hear him pull himself out of his pants. You gasp as he starts sliding his dick up and down your folds, making you moan every time his shaft bumps against your clit. “Always so wet for me.”

When he finally slides into you, it’s agony; the good and the bad kind, all mixed into one delightful experience. The head of his cock inside you makes you shake and moan in pleasure as he fills you up to the brim, your legs trembling as he lifts them over his shoulders before starting to thrust into you so roughly you have to cover your mouth to muffle your screams.

He doesn’t slow down as he fucks you, hands squeezing your tits as he leans over again to suck at your nipples, your legs still bent over his shoulders just making him fuck you even deeper as the angle shifts. You lay there as you let him use you, eyes closed tight as tears slide down your temples and your palm stops your moans of pleasure from escaping.

This shouldn’t feel this good. But it does. Fuck, it does.

If you try hard enough, you can imagine you’re still dating, and this is just another normal school day where he fucks your brains out after school. He wasn’t always the most giving lover, but he knew how to make your legs cramp from pleasure and make you moan the loudest.

And it seems he hasn’t forgotten how your body works.

“Look at me,” he orders with a thrust so deep it makes you whimper in pain. “Open those pretty eyes and look at me while I’m fucking you.”

You do what he says; that’s when the illusion is shattered. He’s not your boyfriend anymore and you’re not in his room, having sex just like normal teenagers. No.

Gwinam is a monster who just ate another human being and forced you into having sex with him. What choice did you have anyway; dying, just like everyone else? No, that’s not a choice. Not to you.

So, you endure it, all the long minutes it takes him to fuck you to completion, his gaze never leaving yours till the moment he comes with a groan and a shudder, burying his face in your neck. His thrusts get shallow as he comes in you, the feeling of it overwhelming as the weight of this whole situation throws you back into reality.

You just lay there as he comes, wincing at the burning feeling in your core that only grows when he pulls out of you, his cum seeping out of you to stick at your inner thighs. You stay still as he rests on you, your heart beating like a galloping horse as you catch your breath. You’re surprised to feel his fluttering heartbeat against your breast, fast and shallow, but there.

For whatever is worth, he’s alive, somewhat.

You lock eyes again when he finally pulls himself up from your body, a satisfied glint in his eye that shows you how satisfied he is. His features are relaxed and there’s a light smile on his lips, an expression that reminds you so much of the boy you used to date. It brings you some comfort; he won’t hurt you now, will he? You want to believe he won’t.

No words are shared between you as he stands up in all his naked glory, and that’s when you see it; the very gruesome, very recent marks that scar his body. You hadn’t noticed these before, but now they’re very clear in the contrast they make against his pale skin.

He shouldn’t be alive.

“What happened?” you ask before you can stop yourself. You slowly rise to a sitting position, leaning over to grab your mangled shirt off the floor. “What is wrong with you? Your body…”

He halts his movements and his eye narrows.

“There’s nothing wrong with me.” He looks almost offended, like you’re the weird one. “I’m better now than ever before,” he continues as he finishes dressing. “You’re the one that should ask herself what is wrong with you.”

The look he gives you is enough to make you recoil, and you flinch as he kneels before you, grabbing you by the arms with so much force you cry out.

“Please,” you beg, in a shaky tone. “I gave you what you wanted, now let me go.”

He shakes his head as he cradles your cheeks, pulling your face to his.

“You could be like me,” he starts, growing excitement in his voice as he pulls you in for a short kiss that you don’t return. “Do you trust me?”

“You know I don’t.”

“Too bad,” he shrugs, followed by a low laugh. “It would be a waste to watch you die. I can do you one better.” The grip on your face tightens slightly, and you tense under his touch.

“Gwinam–”

The feeling of his teeth on your neck feels like blinding pain. He moans as you scream, trying to push him away, but he acts like you’re not even trying. You can feel it in his grip, the moment he tastes your blood. You’re going to die; you can feel it.

“No!” you cry out, thrashing against his hold.

He stops then, pulling away from your neck with a groan, mouth covered with your blood. You shakily cover the wound, eyes wide as you take him in, breathing deeply with a satisfied smirk on his lips. You shake as the feeling of pain intensifies, the blood running down your still naked chest warm against your cooling skin. You’re terrified, and you know he can see it in your eyes.

“Shh, it’s okay,” he says as he forces you to lean back, long fingers brushing your hair from your face. “You’re gonna thank me for this later, I promise.”

“Am I-am I going to die?”

“Nah,” he laughs, kissing your trembling lips. “You will live forever. We will. Together.”

[dmitriene]

— sweet surprise.

 ᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌  ᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌  ᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ «i just wanna be the best i can»  ᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌  ᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌  ᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌«but i'm not sure if i'm the man you sold»

summary: despite the absence and exhaustion that have characterized your past anniversaries with leon, this year you are taking matters into your own hands. content: husband di leon kennedy x gn reader tags: fluff, emotional hurt x comfort, domestic leon, established relationships, kisses. author's note: heyy!!! i came to please you with a rather cute, albeit a little sad short writing with rather cute idea, so hope you're doing good and will like this one!!! enjoy your reading) 🍰

The living room held warm traces of love that deepened over time, the sunlight seeping through the curtains casting a soft glow that illuminated the space, decorated with subtle hints of the life you and Leon had built together.

Framed photographs adorned the walls, snapshots of your travels together, and the sofa was a testament to countless shared moments, worn but still incredibly comfortable.

As you walked around the room, your gaze would occasionally fall on the ring on your finger, a symbol of your enduring devotion to each other, the sight of it bringing a soft smile to your face, a silent acknowledgment of the depth of your bond.

For many couples, anniversaries were a cause for joy and celebration, but for you and Leon they often went unnoticed, consumed by the relentless demands of his missions, it wasn't that you didn't want to celebrate these special days — rather, it was Leon's concern for your well being that kept them subdued.

After all, Leon was a man of action, fiercely protective and dedicated to his duty.

He would often return home tired and burdened with the burden of what he had witnessed or experienced, on those days he would hold you close and mutter an apology, saying that he had had enough of seeing you alone and worried, his concern for your happiness touched your heart and you never insisted on celebrating anniversaries.

But today everything was different.

Today you decided to follow your wishes and show him how much he means to you, you knew exactly when he would return, since you had memorized the schedule of his missions over the years, and as the expected hour approached you were busy preparing a small celebration that would envelop him in yours love.

The room turned into a charming festive haven, ribbons of delicate flowers hung from the ceiling, gently swaying in the breeze, and heart shaped balloons floated in the air, a symbol of your enduring affection, soft, ambient lighting created an atmosphere of comfort and intimacy, an oasis of love in the midst of his turbulent world.

Your festive outfit, carefully chosen for the occasion, sparkled with subtle charm, you wanted to look your best for him, to convey how much you cherish these moments together, your heart was pounding with excitement and some nervousness as you watched your preparations.

But the star of the show was the cake, baked with love by your own hands, it sat on the dining table and was a work of art in itself, the frosting was flawless, decorated with elegant decorations reflecting pennants and balloons, and the aroma of the freshly baked cake wafted through the room, enticing and comforting.

Standing there and taking in the scene you had created you couldn't help but feel a thrill of anticipation, today you were determined to show Leon that even with his demanding life and frequent absences, your love for him burned brightly, you hoped that this celebration would not only will surprise him, but will also convince him that your love is unshakable, that you were together, despite the upcoming trials.

Today was the day to celebrate your love, to cherish every moment and to remind Leon that no matter how tired or tired he was, he was never truly alone — you were there to stand by his side, to love him unconditionally, and create wonderful memories together.

Minutes passed as you stood in your charmingly decorated living room, your heart pounding with anticipation, the sound of car tires crunching on the gravel road sent a wave of excitement coursing through your veins, it was time for Leon's return.

The front door creaked open and you barely had time to raise your head before the familiar figure of Leon walked inside, his rugged yet handsome appearance highlighted by the dim light of the room and his eyes widening in surprise as he was immediately overcome by a whirlwind of joy.

Without hesitation, you happily fell on top of him, hugging him tightly around the neck, a delighted laugh escaping your lips as Leon's strong arms wrapped around your waist and easily lifted you into the air, you squealed in delight as he spun you around, his lips finding your neck and face, showering you with soft, tender kisses.

His laugh mixed with yours and the world outside seemed to fade away as you both enjoyed the pure happiness of this moment, as if time stood still and nothing else mattered except the love and warmth you shared.

But when the whirlwind of emotions subsided, Leon’s sharp gaze took in the decorations and your festive outfit, it was then that he remembered the significance of this day and froze for a moment, the expression on his face changed from surprise to guilt.

— «Anniversary» he muttered, and there was regret in his voice — «I can't believe i almost forgot»

You smiled warmly, trying to ease his sudden discomfort — «It's okay Leon, i wanted to surprise you and make this day special»

He sighed, his gaze filled with a mixture of gratitude and apology — «You always do so much for me, and i continue to pursue my missions»

Before you could respond, he gently sat you down and kissed your forehead tenderly — «I need to wash my face, i'll be back now» he said in a soft and apologetic voice.

As Leon headed to the bathroom, you watched him with a mixture of confusion and concern, his sudden departure making you wonder if there was more to his reaction than met the eye.

The bathroom door closed and you couldn't help but feel a pang of anxiety, especially since it seemed to linger longer than expected.

As Leon stood alone in the dimly lit bathroom, the atmosphere weighed on him.

The soft candlelight in the living room filled the hallway with a warm, muted light, creating an almost unearthly atmosphere, the decorations outside whispered the secrets of the festive that you had prepared with such care.

His hands lay on the bathroom sink as his reflection stared back at him from the mirror, unshed tears welling up in his tired eyes as he let them flow, a silent testament to the emotions he'd been holding back for far too long.

The only sound that filled the room was the soft hum of the air conditioner, punctuated from time to time by his deep, shuddering breathing, the weight of his own insecurities weighing down on him, making him feel vulnerable and unprotected.

In the midst of his thoughts, he heard the bathroom door creak open, startled, he quickly wiped away his tears, but it was too late.

You walked in, your steps soft and hesitant as you approached him, worry etched on your face, your heart pounding with worry.

— «Leon, what's wrong?» you asked quietly and your hands reached out to his cheeks with tenderness that brought tears to his eyes again, you looked into his eyes, urging him to open up.

He tried to hide the traces of his tears, but your caring gaze broke his defense.

With a heavy sigh he finally relented, his voice trembling as he spoke — «I… I was just really touched by your concern about our anniversary, i was struck by the realization that no one had ever loved me so much in my life, and it stunned me»

A bittersweet smile touched your lips as you leaned in and kissed his lips tenderly, feeling the saltiness of his lingering tears — «You are no longer alone in this, Leon, i love you with all my heart and i will always love you»

His piercing eyes met yours, distrust and gratitude shining in their depths — «I don't deserve you..» he whispered, his voice filled with vulnerability.

His confession revealed a vulnerability you rarely saw and it only deepened your affection for him, a gentle smile tugging at your lips and you couldn’t help but tease him, brushing a tear from his cheek with your thumb.

— «You're a big dummy» you whispered softly, leaning down to kiss his lips softly.

The kiss was a silent promise of your unwavering love and support for no one other than his — «You won't have to doubt for a second how much i love you»

— «Now let's go back to the living room, i've got a cake waiting for us, and you deserve every bit of this celebration»

Taking his hand, you led him out of the bathroom, leaving all thoughts of introspection and the weight of self doubt behind, the living room welcoming you both with its festive decor, still carrying the warmth of your previous surprise.

As you sat together and enjoyed a piece of homemade cake, the atmosphere changed, everything around was filled with the sweetness of your love, his quiet recognition and gratitude for being there as he squeezed your hand in his.

[ taglist: @roseglazedlens, @sporeghost, @scar-crossedlvrs, @daydreamrot, @valsthea ] dm me if you want to be tagged in my works or open my taglist.

© dmitriene - my masterlist or ao3 please, don't copy my works as your own, and if you want to post them somewhere else - contact me. reblogs, likes and comments are very much appreciated, thank you for reading! ♡

[houseforwhores]

confessions | billy loomis x reader x stu macher

a/n: this is so bad, i am legitimately sorry , and i apologize for taking this long, life is a bit tasking 🤍 (also apologize for any mistakes, i never really re-read what i write!)

💌:@neyovka

warnings: fem reader, smut, PinV, oral (m&f receiving), spit roasting, slight dub-con elements, overstimulation, praise, slight degradation, cum eating(?) mentions of alcohol, unprotected sex. breeding kink (?) brief mlm interaction (not fetishized)

word count: 2905

your attention was pulled from the scene as you felt a hand on your thigh, you looked down at the rather large pale hand, you trailed your eyes up to see ice blue eyes starring back at you.

"what do you want stu?" you asked swatting his hand from your thigh.

"it's more like what do we want..." stu said trailing off

"we? who is we?" you asked tilting your head and easing your eyebrows, and as if he were on queue, billy came to the other side of you, his signature grin plastered across his face before he nodded at you.

"oh no.." you said immediately shaking your head at the boys, sure you cared about them but they were nothing but trouble.

"oh yes. please we just wanna talk." stu exasperated

"yeah, just a couple of minutes, promise." billy chimed.

"no! you guys are always up to something, last time i followed you guys somewhere i ended up blindfolded and covered in c-" you started before stu cut you off lifting his finger accusingly

"OH COME ON- that was one time! one! look you have my word, no blindfolds. scouts honor,"stu said taking his finger and crossing his heart.

"stu-" you started again, rolling your eyes. but you caught a glance of his expression, he was sporting a very believable puppy face, hand his blue eyes were sparking so bright you felt a pang of guilt. you looked over to billy. his pout unmistakable as he poked his bottom lip out a tiny bit further, raising his eyebrows.

"oh fuck me. fine! five minutes," you said caving. it was quite unfair of them, double-teaming you like this.

"you won't regret it doll. promise." billy said with a wink.

stu placed himself between your legs and faced away from you before he tucked his hands under your thigh. "hop on."

"stu i can w-" but of course before you could finished stu was slapping you on your thigh in protest.

"c'mon let's go." he said. complying you hopped off of the counter, wrapping your legs around him, your arms reaching around his neck, clasping your hands together.

stu carried you up the stairs, a few partygoers staring at you along the way, until billy shot them all glared. you sighed as you reached the top of the stairs. he brought you to his bedroom, he leaned down quickly dropping you to his bed with a creak.

billy locked the door before leaning against it, his shoulder pressed against the frame as he folded his arms, stu stood towering above you. his 6'4 frame not to be forgotten as he towered you.

"stu, back up.", stu rolled his eyes stepping back only a step, with that billy came closer leaning against the bedroom dresser that was behind stu.

"we wanted to talk to you-" stu spoke gesturing to himself and billy

"yeah stu. you already said that." you rolled your eyes, folding your arms across your chest

"maybe don't interrupt us, 'kay? doll." billy snickered

"get on with it then," you spoke unamused

"we broke up with sidney and tatum." billy shrugged. that didn't quite click for you. they both seemed like perfect couples, sure they had their flaws but who doesn't?

"and why did you do that? you guys were like the it-couples."

"i mean isn't it obvious?" stu snorted

"we think you're more our speed." billy chides

"how so?" you inquired cocking your head, a devious grin stretching across your features

"i think it'd be better if we just showed you." billy said sitting beside you, his hand on your thigh massaging the fatty flesh, his hand dangerously close to your heat. the action drawing out more of a reaction than you could've expected. you got lost in his entrancing stare, his glazed over with lust, and neediness.

"can we doll?" you heard stu ask, suddenly becoming aware of his close proximity, now sitting on the other side of you. "show you?"

your shuddered as your eyes closed, stu's warm breath fanning across your lower ear and neck, you cursed yourself feeling your pussy betray you. was this really happening?

"we promise to be gentle, love," stu whispered against your neck before placing a soft kiss against your neck, your mouth fell agape as you tilted your head to the side, a gasp emitting from your throat. billy's hand slid further up your thigh, his index finger in contact with your clit through shorts.

"just say yes, we've got you doll," billy said softly, his finger stimulating your clit as he maneuvered it against you, causing you to give in to the temptation.

"yes! please-" you were cut off by billy's lips slotting against yours, his kiss was urging and filled with need.

you felt billy's hand dance across the skin of your stomach as stu pulled his lips away from your neck. the blue eyed boy grabbed your face jerking you away from billy, toward himself before you felt his lips slotting against yours, more fervently than billy. it was sloppy but you didn't mind, not one bit. his tongue slid across your bottom lip, before he sucked in his mouth slightly, biting down earning a moan from you. stu took that opportunity, slipping his tongue into your mouth.

billy's hand that danced across your stomach had found its way into your panties cupping your warmth, the palm of his hand pressed against the hood of your clit, the slight bit of pressure driving you insane, you lifted one of your legs throwing your thigh over his, allowing him more access to you as you moaned into stu's mouth.

"so fucking needy for us, hmm?" billy questioned, his middle finger slipping between your folds, feeling your slick envelope his finger. "fuck, stu, she's soaked."

"damn straight she is, she's our little slut, isn't that right?" stu grinned watching you nod as he grabbed your hand guiding it toward his growing erection, your hand felt the large bulge of him beneath his jeans, he helped you unbuckle his belt before you slipped your hand in his briefs pulling out his cock. it stood tall at attention, begging for any kind of affection. a bead of precum oozing from his red tip. you swallowed thickly as your eyes trailed over the veins.

billy dragged his fingers through your slick folds, brushing past your clit, he removed his hand from your panties.

"wanna feel how wet she is stu?" billy asked, seeming more as a statement, reaching over y/n, he wrapped his slick coated fingers around stu's girthy cock, spreading your arousal up and down the length of it.

"all that for us sweetheart?" stu groaned out, swallowing thickly as billy's hand squeezed him a bit more, watching more precum drip from the tip of his dick. your mouth watered at the thought of it in your mouth.

"i think our little whore wants a taste, doesn't she?" billy said, directing the statement towards stu, his eyes never leaving y/n's, watching her  "should we let her?"

"i think she's been a good girl so far, maybe a reward is in order." stu struggled to get out as billy stroked him faster.

"hear that doll? what are you waiting for?" billy asked wiping sliding his hand up stu's cock collecting his precum before bringing the mixture to his mouth, practically mewling at the taste of the two of you together. "his cock isn't gonna suck itself."

as if you were in a trance, you got off the bed kneeling before stu, you looked up at him as he grinned down at you, a look of lust glazing his eyes. you gathered the saliva on your tongue as you brought the tip to your mouth placing it on your tongue before swirling it, swallowing the liquid to further coat his length.

you felt billy place himself behind you, his hands were in the hem of your shorts tugging them off your hips. you felt billy tug you back against him, which was considerably farther than you licked because stu was no longer in your reach.

"billy-" but before you could turn around and look at him, he brought his hand down against your ass through your shorts, he sent stu a look, his palm now soothing the place it struck.

stu smirked and kneeled in front of your face, his cock directly leveled with your mouth, you swallowed thickly as you mouth grew wetter from your hyper salvation. you steadied yourself as you reached your hand up wrapping it around stu's cock.

you brought your mouth to his balls as you licked his sack sucking as much as you could fit in your mouth, your hand slid up and down his dick.

“so fuckin’ hot.” stu said his hand coming around to the back of your neck, encouraging your movements. the paradise going straight through you as you felt your clit throb, an aching sensation in your now drenched cunt.

you were brought slightly out of your trance at the feel of billy’s dick slipping through your folds as he dragged it against your clit, spreading your arousal along his length. his actions only made you wetter. you aren’t even sure when he took his dick out but that didn’t matter now.

"you want us to ruin you sweetheart?" billy asked as he pressed his tip against your entrance, stu threaded his fingers into your hair as he pulled your head away from his balls. stu grabbed his dick and tapped it against your lips, encouraging you to open for him. you obliged taking the tip of him in your mouth. your tongue swirled around his tip, finally tasting him, along with the taste of yourself. “use your holes like the little slut you are? hm?”

“fuck, billy,” you begged in what seemed to be something between a whine and a groan, throwing your ass back toward him, letting his tip to slip inside of you, causing you to whimper at the feeling.

“ruin me.” you whispered against stu’s cock, taking him back in your mouth. you relaxed your throat, preparing for him to use you, and take what he needs.

“see doll? this is what we meant, you’re fuckin’ perfect,” stu said as he gripped your jaw adoringly, he returned his hand to its original place in your hair, he thrusted forward, slowly, allowing you to take him in deeper.

“such a fuckin slut for us, hm?” billy groan, thrusting into your wet cunt, the feeling of your tight warmth enveloping him, coating his length in your slick causing his hips to falter for a quick second, the pleasure of being inside you greater than he could ever imagine.

“mhmmf.” you moaned around stu’s cock, he seemed to love the feeling of it, he gripped your hair tighter thrusting all the way into your throat, your nose touching his pelvis as your throat stretched for him.

“just like that, sweetheart. such a good girl.” stu grunted, his mouth was parted as his head fell back, too entranced by the feeling of your mouth wrapped around him, the obscene noise coming from either end of you leaving him in complete euphoria. his praise, and billy’s slight degradation making your brain feel all fuzzy. the lack of oxygen added a bit of excitement as billy continued to abuse your cunt. “you’re doing so well for us.”

“so fucking wet f’me.” billy groaned, his finger nails were digging at your hips just enough to pinch at your skin, he plowed into you, his cock hitting all the right places inside you. you tapped stu’s thigh signaling you needed some air.

“f-fuck.” you coughed out, stu fisted his cock a bit before he guided himself into your throat again.

you felt your climax nearing. billy continued to rut into you from behind. he watched as your ass bounced again as he filled you to the hilt with each stroke, a ring of cream building at the base of his cock from your arousal as he fucked into you.

“such a fuckin whore, hmm?” billy grunted speeding up his strokes. your legs staring to shake from the pleasure. his thighs slapping against yours, his balls tapping your clit each time, reminding you just how deep inside you he was. filling you up with each stroke. “you gonna cum for me sweet heart? huh? gonna come on my cock?”

“cum for us doll.” your eyes rolled back as you closed them, you felt your pussy pulse around billy’s dick, a gush of your arousal soaked his dick, your walls contracted around him.you tapped stu’s thigh signaling him you needed some air. your throat flexed around him, the tight wet heat beckoning him to cum, his hips stuttered as he came deep inside your throat, holding himself there until he released every drip of cum, rope after rope. “fuck, babe.”

you tapped on stu’s thigh again a bit more frantically this time, your oxygen running out as your orgasam took over. stu pulled his cock out, letting it soften. billy still fucking you, his strokes slowing down just a bit while one of his hands snuck around to toy with your clit. he rubbed fast careful circles all the sensations becoming too much for your cock-drunk, slightly oxygen deprived brain to handle, your second orgasam approaching already. stu sat back on his heels as he pulled you into a kiss, his tongue swirling with yours.

“give me another one sweetheart. i’m almost there huh? milk me dry.” billy said with one last stroke, and you came again with a squeal, your

“mmhmf. fuck.”billy stilled himself inside of you, warm, white ropes coated your walls as your cunt gripped and pushed around him squeezing out every drop. “such a good fuckin slut.”

billy had pulled out, watching his seed trickle out of you and down the back of your thigh, some dripping onto the floor. your body, tired, slowly gave into gravity as you found yourself lying on your back as you inhaled deeply trying to regain your senses. billy kissed your lips softly, hovering over you, his hands made his way to your boobs, alternating between massaging them and playing with your nipples.

“you okay doll?” billy asked as he continued his ministrations, you mewled at the feeling, it felt relaxing, but you could feel a dull heartbeat still thrumming in your cunt from the overstimulation.

“mhm, so good.” you mumbled, eyes closed as you felt serene, breathing in deep. you weren’t sure when billy and stu had swapped places but stu was now between your thighs.

“i’m so glad to hear that sweetheart, you did so good for us.” stu praised as he rubbed at your thighs soothingly. “i think our girl deserves a reward, doesn’t she billy?”

“yeah, she does.” billy grinned, though your eyes were closed but you you could almost swear you heard it in his voice.

stu wrapped his lips around your swollen bud, laying kitten licks over the bud, with his hand that wasn’t holding your thigh in place, stu slid his middle and index finger through the mixture of your cum, fucking it back into you with his fingers, curling them against your g-spot.

“mhm fuck. s’too much-.” you moaned your thighs instinctively your thighs tried to close around stu’s head, a hand flying over your mouth to stifle your moans

“you can take it doll, you’ve been so good for us.” billy said shushing you. stu’s tongue slid through your folds to your entrance, dipping his tongue inside practically drooling at the taste of you and billy combined. the taste making his dick stir.

“mhm- hmph.” you moaned into your hand, your eyes shutting tighter as you whined, the pleasure in your cunt overstimulating you.

“fuck doll, tastes so good.” stu groaned before making sure to lick you clean, swallowing every drop he could reach, his fingers still fucking you, curling at that perfect angle. his mouth returned to your clit, licking and sucking. your could feel yourself nearing the edge again. and billy made sure to help push you off that cliff, as stu sped up his fingers, billy kissed and sucked on your skin, leaving hickeys, and love marks, simultaneously still playing with your nipples. stu started his lips from your clit momentarily, he spit on your clit before wrapping his lips around it once again.

“stuu! fuck! ” you said as your hands reached for his hair tugging on the short honey brown strands. you pulled his face closer as you road out your orgasam on his tongue and fingers.

“that’s it, you did so well baby.” billy said pecking your lips proudly. your eyes fluttered open, billy leaned back as stu climbed over you, you saw his face covered in your slick. he was grinning as he looked down at you, leaning down he pressed his lips to yours allowing you to taste what you and billy created. you hummed in satisfaction, pouting once stu pulled away, winking at you.

“promised you wouldn’t regret it.”

[sillybucket]

“I’m here” { Johnathan Ohnn/Spot x g/n reader }

Dude - this guy conquered my heart ever since the first scene of him stealing the ATM machine got released !

I can’t get enough of how chaotic and adorable the Spot is , so I thought it would’ve been fun to write a little fanfic for him :D

As always I apologize for eventual ooc moments , and if someone already wrote something similar to this know it’s not my intention to copy anyone !

🍃 Warnings 🍃 : some depictions of the Alchemax accident are present at the start , nothing too graphic but still look out if that’s something that could make you uncomfortable !

This story features Johnathan waking up from a bad dream about his transformation with the reader comforting him … I just really wanna give him a hug :,( ❣️

⚫️ . ��️ . ⚫️ . ⚫️ . ⚫️ . ⚫️ . ⚫️ . ⚫️ . ⚫️ . ⚫️ . ⚫️ . … a sudden bright light …

… the deafening noise of the Collider exploding …

… the rumbling of the building falling apart …

Johnathan’s heart was pounding in his chest , his breathing sharp and frightened as he held on to his experiment with shaky hands while desperately trying to make his way outside the room , constantly tripping onto the pieces of the collapsing lab …

… why … ?

… why was this happening … ?!

Suddenly , the sound of glass shattering pierced through his ears , and as he looked down he realized …

“No … ! NO !!”

The capsule had broke , and when the dark matter contained inside it surrounded him and entered his body he couldn’t help but let out a terrified scream :

… the pain …

It felt like holes were forming on his skin , making parts of it disappear into nothingness …

And his face …

Johnathan could clearly feel his features vanishing , from his eyes , to his nose , to his mouth and even his ears …

All gone in an instant .

The man fell to his knees in agony , his body shaking as he tried looking at his hands …

They looked … bigger … unfamiliar … they didn’t feel like they were his at all , they didn’t even look like a part of him anymore .

“No … no no … nono no no no plea- no … nono …”

Johnathan sobbed uncontrollably , covering his now empty face with his arms , and everything around him seemed to become blurry and faded …

…

…

“Johnny … ?”

…

“Johnny , love …”

That voice … he knew that voice …

Slowly Johnathan woke up and got up in a sitting position on the bed , looking around the room while taking a few shaky breaths :

he was home … he was safe in (y/n)’s apartment , and they were right there next to him … that thought immediately managed to comfort him .

“(Y/n) … ?”

, he whispered , moving one hand towards their face to caress their cheek , almost as if he wasn’t entirely sure if what he was seeing was real .

“Yeah I’m here , I’m right here …”

They gave him a sweet , tired smile while holding his hand in theirs , suppressing a yawn .

“Did you have the dream again ?”

Johnathan nodded in response , the vivid memory of his transformation sending a shiver down his spine …

The man just didn’t seem to be able to escape it , no matter how much time had passed … he had even found himself a loving partner who accepted and cared for him despite his … unusual looks , and yet the events of that day were still haunting him , tattooed in his brain and following him wherever he went .

“It’s okay though , I’m good now . You should get back to sleep while you still can , I know you have work tomorrow …”

(Y/n) shook their head , moving closer to hold him in their arms while gently caressing his back .

“I’m gonna stay awake with you until you fall asleep , Johnny … I’ll be okay tomorrow , don’t worry .”

, they replied , burying their face in his chest .

Johnathan remained silent for a moment before hugging them back , slowly laying down with them on the bed once more . Their warmth immediately calmed him down , and as he placed his forehead against theirs he couldn’t help but smile to himself …

“Thank you (y/n) …”

After a while , they both fell asleep in each other’s arms , and no more bad dreams came to bother their peaceful slumber .

⚫️ . ⚫️ . ⚫️ . ⚫️ . ⚫️ . ⚫️ . ⚫️ . ⚫️ . ⚫️ . ⚫️ . ⚫️ .

Thank you so much for reading this little fanfic until the end ! :D

I’ll definitely be writing more for the Spot , I just really enjoy coming up with cute , fluffy scenarios with him :,) ❤️ Feel free to leave some feedback if you feel like it !

[beanghostprincess]

I wanna write a Lawsan fic in which Law won't stop being annoying about Germa and info-dumping about it and, even if he says he hates it, talking about it all. The. Damn. Time. And Sanji snapping at him furiously and telling him something like "Could you shut the fuck up already?! You keep saying you hate Germa but as far as I know, you'd be on your knees to suck my brothers' cocks like the fanboy you are. Do you happen to lack hearing comprehension? I don't give a fuck what you say because your dumb comics were my whole fucking childhood, and I don't know how yours was, but mine wasn't pretty. I- Fuck. Look. Fuck you. You don't understand and you're not willing to understand and I'm sure you've never had to tell your own family to fuck off but it does a fucking number on you, so. Don't- Just- Just don't, okay? I need- I need a moment away from you" and he leaves Law feeling absolutely like shit because he didn't notice he was being so heartless to him. Sanji goes away and, since this happens in front of everyone, Zoro's like "Well done, man" and Law's just like "Shut the fuck up". Then there's a whole scene with Law apologizing but I'm saving that for the fic ngl.

[erwinsvow]

maybe not ward cause when is he not fake dead but it’s the fact reader would walk past rose in the hallway in just one of rafe’s shirts and both women would just share a look like 👀 ‘let’s not kid ourselves, you know, i know. can we just not…’

also apparently there was a scrapped ‘rose slept with rafe storyline’ and my first thought was wtf, then, not on my girl ‘reader’s’ watch.

it's not appropriate. you know it, rafe knows it. and the two of you should really be more careful, because it's starting to seem like neither of you care about who's at home anymore who's listening, on each other like rabbits all times of the day.

at least when wheezie was around, the two of you were more concerned, wanting to make sure she wasn't accidentally traumatized, but now she's away at camp and sarah's barely at home, so the thought of being quiet and cautious was out the door.

you're sure rafe's step-mom doesn't like you—that she thinks you're a poked hole in a condom away from being a permanent fixture in rafe's life. you've even overheard her once, asking mr. cameron to talk to rafe about easing up, that accidental pregnancies ruin lives, that you're out to ruin rafe.

your feelings are hurt, of course. you don't think there's a person in kildare who doesn't like you, and the idea that someone in rafe's family is out to break that streak stings painfully. but rafe doesn't care about his stepmom or her opinion, so you follow his lead. you tried your hardest to be nice to her, but if she didn't want to be nice back, you weren't gonna keep trying.

rafe was good about instilling his own life rules in you—first and foremost, not to bend over backwards for anyone, except him.

that's why this feels extra awkward—running into his step-mom while clad just in his button up, haphazardly thrown on so you can go down stairs to get some water. you suck in a breath, awkwardly making eye contact. you don't wanna look away first, no, rafe says the weaker one does that. you keep looking, frozen in place, wrapping your arms around yourself and bringing the rafe scented cloth closer to you.

"sorry," you start, though you don't think there's any sincerity in your apology. "if we were being too loud."

she doesn't respond, walking away. you get your water and head back up to rafe's room, wanting to tell him but feeling like you shouldn't. rafe didn't outright tell you that his step mom was suggesting something other than a normal relationship to him, but it didn't take a genius to figure it out.

she'll just have to keep trying, you think, leaving the door a crack open, so more sound would escape that way.

soooooo in my opinion that tracks....there's sm tension in that scene with rafe the stepmom n the knife in season two!!! i cant be the only one who picked up on that. ur so right though not on readers watch shes looking out for her man!! this got weird n darker than other stuff i write so dont send me hate just close ur eyes <3

[nikolai-vincent]

Y'all I have a big list of Byler things and I need help to make sure that everything I've stated is actually true and not my mind making things up💀🤣🤭 so prepare for a long list and I'll cut it down so it doesn't take years if you wanna scroll by it lmao

Mike tried calling Will all the time while he was in Cali (& could be the reason for weird airport interaction) Mike can't use a telephone to talk to El bc of of government listening in, so Dustin's words are about Mike calling Will but not being able to reach him.

It wasn't love at first sight, the offical season 1 trailer with the scene where they first find El, Mike's first thought is "That's not Will." And also this is Mike's plan to get rid of her from the night they found her, even though he is supposedly already in love with her since he said he loved her the moment he saw her?🤨

His monologue didn't help/wasn't fully true, El didn't have a single flashback of her and Mike throughout their whole relationship except for when they found her in the woods. They've been dating for roughly 9 months before breaking up for 3, then getting together again and currently at 6 months (so 1 year and 3 months of officially dating, having known each other fully for 3 years, although not fully because she was gone for a whole year) and yet she didn't have a single other memory besides the night they saved her?

Mike and El didn't speak that much for 2 full days while they were stuck in the van?? Even after Mike's love confession, all El was apparently talking about was how she feels like she lost the battle with Vecna and how Brenner had put it into her head and stuff.

Mike has a sort of superhero idealization for El. He's mentioned multiple times that she's a superhero, she's a machine that can help find Will, and it's shown throughout the seasons how much Mike loves superheroes. In my opinion, that's not a super great thing to compare your girlfriend to, especially after she has shown to want to be more than that, but feels like that's all she's good for now.

They never see eye to eye/always disregard the others feelings/attempt to be understanding. All of their arguments I've seen, they both try to be understanding at first, but then they shut each other down and speak for the other person when they're doubting each others thoughts (one scene perfectly showing this is their fight in El's room in season 4).

Mike and El knew each other for roughly a week (at 12 years old) before getting together and then immediately getting separated for a whole year, only to become reunited and jumping immediately into a relationship at 13 and ignoring their friends to only kiss each other for 6 months and not deepen their bond emotionally?? Then they break up like it's nothing and Mike doesn't know what she likes when he tries to buy her a gift to apologize (only after Lucas says something) (then getting into a fight with Will for the first time and apologizing as soon as possible on his own choice).

Mike has issues saying I love you (tried saying it once in s3 and couldn't even say the word "love", instead going for "blank makes you crazy" which El didn't understand. Only time he says it was in a high stress situation and he blurted it out to everyone except her, with a look of shock and confusion. S4 he doesn't say it at all, writing "from, Mike" all the time, to which he is confronted by her and only is able to say "I care for you... so much." And "I say it." ("It" being I love you) (which is a lie) That fight in El's room would've been the perfect time for him to tell her he loves her after he sees her crying to him about it, he could have perfectly said something like, "El, of course I love you. I'm sorry I don't say it, I'm just not used to feeling this way, but thank you for talking to me about it, I'll try to work on it." Or something to comfort her. In the end he is only able to say it in a high stress situation (AGAIN) and only after having a whole speech from Will, and needing Will to tell him not to stop and to say whatever it was he couldn't before. (Which, Will didn't know that Mike couldn't say I love you to her) Mike was given false hope that El needed him and felt better for being different because of him, which was a lie and those feelings were from Will himself, his speech was a veiled love confession.

Mike subtly (or unintentionally) compared both of his relationships with Will and El by saying that meeting Will "was the best thing he's ever done" but meeting El was "Not fate. Not destiny. Just simple, dumb luck." (He chose to befriend Will, by actively going up to him and asking, whereas he didn't choose to meet El, it was an accident).

Mike struggles to switch his focus between El and Will, we've seen throughout all of the seasons how Mike acts with Will and how he acts with El, and I'll be honest, they're pretty similar. He's soft, sweet, and casual with Will, and he's nice, gentle, and kind with El (just in general, relationship stuff aside). But then you put them in the same room and Mike doesn't know how to act properly with either of them, and we honestly don't see the real interactions with these three until season 3. I've noticed a lot that when Mike and El are in a relationship, they ignored everyone and just made out, but after they broke up, the whole group was together and had no issues with doing so (I guess the flayed helped with that, though lol).

Will is the only person that Mike will immediately try to apologize to if he did something wrong, whereas anyone else he blames others and doesn't apologize until someone tells him to (examples: Dustin told Mike to apologize to Lucas in season 1 after they fought, Mike was blaming Lucas and didn't want to apologize even though Mike was the one that started the fight. He didn't apologize to El in season 3 for the way he was acting, instead choosing to lie and needing help from Lucas on what to get for El as an apology (again, Mike knows nothing about El by this point still), and yet later on after he has a fight with Will, he bikes to Will's house to apologize, he blames himself, calls himself an asshole (with Lucas following, not leading). Seasone 4, the second fight that Mike and Will have is in the skating rink, Mike calls Will a douche and says he sabotaged the whole day by moping, rolling his eyes, and not talking but later on he goes to Will and immediately starts apologizing and says he was being a self pitying idiot, and telling Will that he wasn't being a douche and Will didn't deserve to be called that).

Mike and Will are very different compared to their friendships with Dustin, Lucas, or Max. (With proof being from Mike himself, saying "Max and Dustin and Lucas.. they're-they're great.. they're great, it's just-it's Hawkins, it's not the same without you. And maybe I was worrying too much about El, and I feel like I lost you or something." (Something along those lines lol)

The Duffers have compared Mike and El's relationship to Elliot and E.T, a friendship between a kid and an alien.

El was upset with Mike during the cabin cleaning scene (giving him a side eye and sighing heavily before going to her room) after Mike's supposed love confession.

Mike agreed (by nodding) when Will was talking in the desert about how it's scary to open up to people you care about the most bc of them possibly not liking the truth (Will was comforting Mike about El during this, sort of) (Why would El not like the truth if the truth was that Mike loves her?? Sus).

Mike showed a big difference in priority when it came to searching for Will vs El. In season 1 after Will went missing, Mike (+ the party) was told by the police to stay home and not interfere in the investigation. Mike disobeys and goes out (+ the party) to search for Will in the dark and rain. After meeting El, they use her as a weapon to continue searching for Will. After finding Will's "body" in the quarry, Mike switches on El and is mean and blames her for not telling the truth about Will. El then shows Mike through the walkie-talkie that Will is alive and Mike believes her (even after seeing Will's body, he has hope again that Will could be alive), he's nice to El again after this. Vs, when El goes missing at the end of S1 and going into S2, Mike believes she's dead (although not seeing a body), and doesn't go searching for her. He sees her through the window on the same night she disappeared, but he never goes out to look for her. The only thing he does for the whole year is try to talk to her through a walkie-talkie, but he never leaves his house to try and find her (even though he's seen proof of her being alive) while she's gone, Mike's priority is fully focused on Will and his possession. In season 3, Hopper threatens Mike to stay away from El (similarly to what he said about staying home and not looking for Will in season 1) and he immediately agrees and doesn't try to see her.

Mike has a lot of familial/platonic parallels with El's father figures than he does romantic, he's always paralleled with Brenner (with proof in season 4, the "what did you do?" / "what have you done?" scene at the rink) which is so bad and sad, and some scenes similarly with her and Hopper.

Gotta say it, Mike has looked at Will's lips multiple times (at least 4, off the top of my head) (which is 4 times more than he has with any of his other friends probably) and he barely does it with El. If it was a mistake during filming, they would've shot it again, bc they were obvious but they stayed in.

And just with the way Mike looks at Will compared to his other friends or even El, that boy looks more in love than the one canonically in love.💀

In both season 1 and season 2 (besides their first kiss and the snowball (which weren't planned originally, I believe)) Mike has never been the one leaning in or attempting to kiss El, he just stands and stares confused as she does all the work.

Mike has Will's art all over his basement from when they were children (and some in his room, I think?) But he throws away and crumples all of the letters he receives from his long distance girlfriend? Sus.

The difference in Mike's reactions to being broken up with romantically vs platonically in season 3. His face shows a sort of disgust and almost guilty when El breaks up with him, and his face is full of guilt and sadness when Will tells him he wanted to stay with him forever.

Mike was fruity af during his apology to Will in S4 Ep4 just saying.

Canonically Mike only smiles in pictures when Will is in them as well. (Photos in tags bc I'm at the limit😔)

It's been confirmed that Mike is clueless about Will's feelings for him, so I'm wondering why he was so affected by the 6 months away with only a couple phone calls that lead to him not even wanting to hug Will at the airport (even though he saw how happy and excited Will was to see him again) when he hugged Will perfectly fine at the end of S3 (even though they never actually resolved their first fight in the rain?) Hm. Sus.

Mike has Smalltown Boy on his (OFFICIAL) spotify playlist?? A song about "the need for gay men to flee small-town intolerance and pursue reinvention in the big city. " ???

Just a cute thing about Mike and Will beings friends since the first day of kindergarten (when they were 5 years old) and having the longest friendship out of everyone in the party.

Kind of iffy about this one but the song Tarzan Boy was playing at the roller rink (a song about being free and doing what you want) when Will, Mike, and El were at the table. (Probably not a lot of significance but still a thing).

From an outsiders perspective, Mike and El were not happy when they were skating at the rink together, from Will's perspective, they were super happy and laughing together while Will was left behind. This is shown when Angela walks into the rink with her friends, we see Mike and El from her pov and their faces are very stoic while they hold hands.

That's all I have for now, I've had these written in my notes for like 2 years lmao but please, if you've even gotten this far, let me know if anything looks inaccurate and I'll fix it:) and also feel free to add anything you've noticed as well! I'd love to see it.

[anyasathenaeum]

Hi! If I could request headcanons for Vash and Wolfwood (separately) noticing that a chubby y/n doesn’t eat in front of people? :D

A/N: Hiya! I can absolutely write that for you! :D Thanks for being my very first request! Hope this is what you were hoping for ~

Vash the Stampede

Vash would notice pretty quickly that you refused to eat in a group setting, or even when it was just you and one other person - he's pretty perceptive so it catches his eye early on in knowing you

At first, he figured that maybe it was just one of your quirks, but as time went on and he saw you continuing to not eat in front of others, he eventually began to be concerned

He'd be very sweet about it, though - bringing it up to you once the two of you were by yourselves and nobody else was around

"Hey, (Y/N)? I-I just noticed that you don't eat. Are you okay? Is something bothering you? Is there anything I can do?"

At first, you just brushed him off, making light of the situation and not taking it seriously.

However, as time went on, eventually, you caved and told Vash the truth, about how being chubby made you feel more self-aware of how your appearance and actions were perceived by others.

Vash didn't even blink, immediately giving you a soft smile and tugging you close to him in a very warm, gentle hug, whispering compliments to you and encouraging you.

"What you look like doesn't matter one bit, (Y/N). You've always been beautiful in my eyes!"

He would completely understand your preference of not eating in front of others, and the man would bend over backwards trying to make sure that you feel comfortable and are well-fed regardless.

Vash would really just want you to be well taken care of and he accepts you for who you are, and never fails to remind you of that fact every minute he can.

He would also make a point of distracting people during mealtimes and giving you a chance to be more comfortable or slip away if you needed to.

Overall, 110% would just try to make you feel as comfortable as possible and would accept you for who you are in your entirety without a second thought. <3

Nicholas D. Wolfwood

I feel like Wolfwood would NOT get the memo until you literally yell at him

He can be a little... dense™.

You'd be sitting around the campfire with the others, refusing to eat while the others do

Remember in Trigun Stampede the scene of Wolfwood shoving food into Meryl's face? Yeah, he'd pull that on you, too, unfortunately, until you literally yell at him to stop and that it's not funny before you got up and walked away.

Definitely confused by the situation, but despite being a bit rough around the edges, he still understands that what he did was not okay given your reaction and goes to talk to you one-to-one

"What was that about?" he'd ask you, still sorta joking and seeing if you're still upset or not

You don't answer him, prompting him to actually sit next to you, looking over at you

"You wanna tell me what's goin' on, sweetheart?"

Eventually, you'd explain that you don't like to eat in front of others and that it made you uncomfortable

When he realizes what he's done, he does feel kinda bad that he put you into an uncomfortable position and grumbles out an apology as well as an offhand compliment

"Your body may be different, doesn't mean you shouldn't eat though. There's just more of you for people to love."

Wolfwood would still definitely try to make you as comfortable as he can (within reason to himself), but his approach would be more subtle - toning down his own shenanigans and jokes, not pestering you like he used to about the topic, also distracting others and giving you a way out of uncomfortable situations.

Overall, would be dense at first but once he understands, also very supportive and adjusts his behaviour to ensure he doesn't hurt you again.

[differenteagletragedy]

would you be ever so kind as to spare some OL2 headcanons or crumbs 🤲🤲

If you don’t wanna write for OL2 then OLBA is just as amazing!!!!!!

Hi! I will eventually write for OL2 I'm sure, but I haven't gotten through the demo yet! Right now I'm at the beginning of the first day of school -- I keep getting pulled back into the first one because it has such a chokehold on me lol.

But I was writing these for OLBA so I'll put them here! Thank you!!!

-- Do you like trashy reality shows? Good for you. Cove's not really into it, but he'll watch with you if you want him to. Derek can definitely have some fun with it. But Baxter turns into a monster.

MC answering their phone: Hey, what's up?

Baxter: DID YOU SEE, *this person* from *this show* got arrested.

MC: Aren't you supposed to be working?

Baxter: I saved the mug shot to my photos, I am sending it to you via text right now.

(Client in the background complaining)

Baxter: I do have to get off the phone now, but if you hear anything else call the office and tell them it's an emergency, they'll put you through to me.

-- If you go the Derek romance route, I think you make out once in high school. Because hormones, you've crushed on each other for years, and like it just happens. And then after he's very unwell, he keeps apologizing, and either your really shy and nervous about it or like "no it's ok, that was nice," but either way he's like "HAVE TO GO, TTYL." He doesn't talk to you for a little bit but then feels bad.

MC: Derek, I like you in a romantic way. I want you to be my boyfriend. I liked kissing you and I want to kiss you again.

Derek: Haha that was crazy, so how's school going?

-- Derek is good with cars. Big muscles make car go vroom.

Like there would have been a time when you got a flat tire and you either didn't know how to change it or blanked on what Cliff told you (Cliff taught you how to change a tire, no questions) and called him like "help" and he dropped everything and drove to wherever you were to change it for you.

-- He's also good with mechanical fixes, and just with his hands in general. Is your sink messed up? Call Derek. Some issue with your stove? Call Derek. Creaky door? You already know. (You have to do stuff for him too though, that's the rules).

-- Back to Cliff though, you know those videos of men like "I'm going to teach you some dad stuff" for people who grew up without dads? That's Cliff. Obviously your moms are amazing, but Daddy Cliff is going to step in too sometimes.

-- Cliff teaching MC how to tie a tie, just imagine.

-- Baxter goes home alone after Miranda's birthday party/the second party for him and finishes off that bottle of champagne because he knows that summer's almost over and he's going to do A Bad Thing and he hates himself.

-- Honestly it hurt my feelings so much at the end of Step 3 lol, like I was genuinely taken aback by his goodbye scene. Asking MC why they'd keep talking when he couldn't give them rides anymore like that's all they were interested in, the audacity.

-- Cove has the whole game, he's gonna be ok, we're talking about other people this time.

-- In adulthood, MC looks back at that time they learned their birth parents died when they were a baby, had a quick breakdown then went back home and did a musical performance for their family as one of the cringiest moments of their life (I'm not using second person this time because I don't want to sound judgey but LOL come on). They'll tell Derek about it later on when they're together and he'll be like "aww, that sounds sweet," and Baxter will be nice about it too, but he'll also have some comments to make.

Baxter: Darling, my plant at the office seems to be dying, could you perhaps do a song and dance number to ease my pain?

MC: Shut uuuuuup.

-- Last week gb patch made a post on Patreon with a new sketch for OLNF with wedding planner Baxter, so like the oldest Baxter we'll see in cannon, and he was wearing a cream turtleneck, a purple overcoat, and what looked to me to be a peach colored gingham suit. So by the time he gets to be like 40, his fashion sense is going to be off the rails. He's going to call you and be like "I just went shopping, I hope you like my new look," and come home like: