#cw slutshaming

[olddirtybadfic]

Brotherly Love: If There Must Be Mpreg, Warn a Brotha (And Warn a Sista) (Part four of seven)

Warner brothers? More like War-garyen brothers.

Except without the dragons or pseudo-medieval politics.

Part one is here. Part two is here. Part three is here.

DEAD GOODFEATHERS DO NOT EAT

Content Warning: Consensual romantic relationship between two siblings; mpreg; aged-up characters; questionable knowledge of psychology; usage of mid-noughties slang that aged like milk (which Yakko will not be drinking); abortion mention; oh dear gods an author avatar and her avatar's furry friend; a fourth Warner; attempt at writing Scratchansniff’s accent out phonetically; big emotions, including: *extremely Gonzo voice* GUILT and *extremely Septa Unella voice* SHAME SHAME SHAME (ding ding); animane-y, totally insane-y, Dot is slut-shame-y

-O-o-O-o-O-

Yakko was just coming back from getting the newspaper. This entailed annoying Ralph, the security guard, until he balled it up and threw it at Yakko.

He was walking along, tossing the balled-up paper up and down with each step when he noticed Hello Nurse entering the psychiatric building.

“Wait a minute….Dot went to the convention with Hello Nurse,” Yakko thought.

He thought back to how the bathroom door was closed when he walked past—it couldn’t have been Wakko in the bathroom, because he’d just left him in the bedroom. Then it hit Yakko.

Dot was home.

Yakko shoved the paper in his pocket and ran the rest of the way home.

“How long has she been home?” he wondered. “And when did she come in? Oh my god…Did she see us in bed, naked?!”

Yakko flew up the ladder and into the tower.

Everything was quiet. There was no sign of Dot or Wakko in the front room.

Yakko went to the kitchen. They weren’t there either.

The bathroom door was closed and Yakko could hear the sound of a blowdryer from within. That had to be Dot.

Yakko entered the bedroom, where he found Wakko, sitting on his top bunk, crying softly.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Yakko said, scaling the bunks. He reached a hand out to comfort Wakko, but he pulled away. The sobs racked his small body.

“Dot knows,” Wakko sobbed.

Yakko was afraid of that. However, he was still shocked. A tiny part of him still had hope that she hadn’t found out.

“She…knows?” Yakko said, his horror growing each second.

“I don’t know how, but she knows. I thought she was gone for the weekend,” Wakko continued to sob.

“Well….It’s not that bad. At least we don’t have to sneak around anymore,” Yakko said, forcing optimism. “She’ll probably give us lots of space.” Yakko realized the minute he finished speaking that this was the wrong thing to say.

“It’s all my fault. I seduced you into doing this. I’m such a whore.” Wakko hid his face in his pillow.

“Those were Dot’s words, weren’t they?” Yakko thought, suddenly angry at his sister. “No. If I hadn’t told you about my feelings, you wouldn’t have acted the way you did,” Yakko explained, desperately trying to stop his brother’s tears. He reached out a hand to hold Wakko, but Wakko gently pushed it away.

“We can’t,” he said simply.

“We….can’t touch?”

“If we touch, I’ll only be tempted to seduce you again. I’ll just ruin you.”

“I’m already ruined, and none of it is your fault,” Yakko started.

“Yes, it is!” Wakko snapped. “Please, just….Let’s not touch each other anymore,” he whispered, his voice cracking.

“Okay.” Yakko had to comply, but on the inside, he was fuming at Dot.

-O-o-O-

He caught Dot coming out of the bathroom. Dot only stopped to glare at him for a few seconds, then stomped away. Yakko grabbed her by the shoulder before she could disappear down the hall.

“Shouldn’t you and your brother be heading out to a shack in the woods now?” she spat, trying to shake Yakko off.

“Dot, we have to talk,” Yakko stated firmly. “And besides, he’s your brother, too.”

“Not after what he did with you, he’s not. I don’t even know that boy,” Dot hissed.

“Well, we still need to talk.” Yakko refused to give up. Even if it took him all night, he’d get Dot to apologize for yelling at Wakko.

“I have nothing to say to you.”

“Are you shiggity-sure about that?” Yakko leaned in close to Dot.

Dot crossed her arms and glared at a point off to the side for a few seconds. Then she sighed angrily and turned her glare on Yakko. “Y’know, I’d expected better from you.”

“Pardon?” Yakko raised a non-existent eyebrow.

“For god’s sake, Yakko, you know what people think of incest. You understand how gross it is to be attracted to your blood relatives. You know better than to try to seduce your brother!” Dot scolded.

“And Wakko doesn’t?” Yakko found his anger rising again.

“Yakko, I don’t think Wakko even knows what galaxy we live in. I seriously doubt he could grasp such a complex issue as incest.”

Yakko couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Did she seriously think Wakko was stupid?

“But that’s not the point. If he started making advances on you, why didn’t you stop him? If you understood what would happen if you went too far, why didn’t you do something?”

“Maybe I didn’t want to!” Yakko said sharply. “Maybe I enjoyed it! Yes, you heard correctly. I enjoyed it!”

Dot’s glare dropped and was replaced by an expression of pure horror. “What….How could you?!”

“How could I? Maybe because I love Wakko! Not in that way, in that way. It was all me; I told him I loved him and he was just reacting to it. Did you get that? I made the first move. It was my fault.”

“Oh my god….” Dot’s expression was now one of disgust rather than horror.

“And because I love Wakko, I don’t appreciate you putting him down like that. He may not seem it to you, but he is just as smart as either of us and is perfectly capable of understanding incest. Do you know that he’s the one who thought to hide it from you so we wouldn’t get caught? Did you ever think that just maybe he might be hurt by you calling him a whore? Did you ever think that maybe he might have regrets over the whole thing? I’m sure you didn’t because you don’t know shit about our brother!” Yakko yelled.

They were right outside the bedroom door, but he didn’t care. if he couldn’t touch Wakko, he could find other ways to show his love.

“Well, after that little rant, I do know something about both of you. You’re both perverts and I want nothing to do with you. I’m going to stay with Hello Nurse.” With that, she wrenched herself away from Yakko and stomped off to pack her things.

-O-o-O-

Yakko’s first instinct was to grab Dot again, sit her down, and give her a long talk about this whole thing. His second instinct was to give her a good slap.

It was his third instinct, the one that told him to walk away, that won. He set off towards the bathroom to take a nice hot shower to relax his nerves. Or maybe a nice cold shower to relax his….other muscles.

As he was walking, the closet door next to the bathroom suddenly opened and Yakko was pulled inside.

Yakko groped around, trying to get his bearings, until a flashlight turned on. He looked towards the source of light and saw Wakko, sitting behind a box. Immediately, Wakko threw himself at Yakko.

“I couldn’t take it anymore,” Wakko said softly, pressing himself against Yakko. A few seconds later, Yakko could feel Wakko’s tears wetting his fur.

“It’s okay now. I’m not against continuing this,” he soothed, stroking Wakko’s ears. “We’ll find some way to work it out.”

“How can you be so sure?” Wakko stared up at Yakko with teary black eyes.

“I’m the oldest brother. It’s what I do,” Yakko responded. He looked around. “Since when do we have a closet here?”

Wakko sniffled. “Since now.”

“All righty then.” Yakko went back to holding Wakko.

The door swung open and they were met with a very disturbed and angry Dot.

“You two are seriously fucked up and not in the good way,” she hissed before stomping away.

Wakko turned away from Yakko, curled into a little ball, and continued to cry.

“Wakko…” Yakko reached out for his brother, but Wakko pulled away.

Yakko didn’t care; he pulled Wakko towards him in a warm embrace. This time, Wakko didn’t resist as Yakko half cradled him in his arms, half held him in his lap.

“Don’t worry. Everything’ll work out,” Yakko soothed. “Somehow.”

-O-o-O-

By the next morning, Dot had packed up and spent the better part of the early morning at Hello Nurse’s house.

Yakko and Wakko spent the night in Yakko’s bunk. It would have been too weird, being in their own bunks, knowing that Dot wasn’t sleeping between them. Sure she’d been away at night earlier that week, but they'd known she would come back. Now, they weren’t so sure she’d ever want to talk to them again.

Wakko fell asleep quickly, having worn himself out with the crying. However, Yakko lay in bed, awake, until at least 3:00AM.

“Is what we’re doing really so wrong? I mean, society says it’s wrong, but society says that premarital sex is wrong, and people do that anyway. There are so many people out there who don’t love each other the way Wakko and I do, and they have sex and go through the motions of being in love, even to the point where they’ll get married! And we’re not hurting anyone so what’s wrong with it?” Yakko pondered.

In a flash, it came to Yakko. He knew who could help them.

He ran to the phone to leave a message on Dr. Scratchansniff’s answering machine.

-O-o-O-

The next morning, Yakko somehow managed to wake up at 8:00AM. He was about to roll over and go back to sleep when he realized something was missing.

Wakko wasn’t in bed with him.

Yakko sat up, worried. What if Wakko had run off? What if he decided it was best for them to not even live together? What if he went to go get Dot?

“Dot was pretty pissed off at us,” Yakko thought. “Who knows what she’s capable of doing to Wakko?”

Yakko sprang out of bed and through the bedroom doorway. As he was walking down the hall, he heard a sniffle coming from within the bathroom.

The door was open a crack so Yakko could see Wakko, kneeling over the toilet, his body heaving. A few seconds later, he began to vomit into the toilet.

Yakko pushed the door open and quietly entered. “You okay in here?” he asked, just before Wakko started vomiting again.

“I’m fine now, I think,” Wakko responded, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “It was probably just something I ate. That green cheese in the back of the fridge did look a bit dodgy.”

Yakko gave Wakko a sideways look. He’d seen Wakko eat worse things (like gum from under a theater seat), and he’d been perfectly fine afterwards.

“Are you sure you’re not coming down with something?” Yakko asked, putting a hand on his brother’s forehead. No sign of a fever.

“I’m sure. I’ll be fine in a few minutes.” Wakko closed the toilet lid.

“Would you be up to a visit with Scratchy, then?”

Wakko perked up. “What are we gonna do to him this time?”

“Slow down, Wakko.” Yakko put his hands on Wakko’s shoulders to calm him. “We won’t be doing anything like that this time. Scratchy’s going to help us get Dot back, and he’s been helping me since before I told you about my feelings for you, so we should take it easy on him. Besides, I don’t want you to overexert yourself and start getting sick again.”

“Yakko, I’m fine. But I’ll be good.” A little halo appeared over Wakko’s head.

The brothers had an early appointment at around 9:00, so they had to leave shortly.

Yakko was beginning to have second thoughts about scheduling the appointment so early. He hadn’t gotten a full night of sleep, but he was fine. It was Wakko that he was worried about. He didn’t think his brother was as “fine” as he said he was. He’d seen Wakko run to the bathroom a couple more times. He’d said that he “just had to go really badly,” but when Wakko told him he’d pass on having breakfast, Yakko knew something wasn’t right.

It was around 8:30 when Yakko was fully convinced that Wakko was a little more than under the weather. He’d had to wake his brother up after he’d fallen asleep—while standing at the front door.

It was too late to cancel and reschedule the appointment. Besides, they needed help now. The sooner they got Dot back, the better.

Still, he couldn’t have Wakko climbing down the ladder in such a condition. Yakko conjured up an elevator and the two rode down without difficulty.

By the time they got to the psychiatry building, Wakko was leaning weakly against Yakko. From his glassy-eyed expression, Yakko could tell Wakko was just barely aware that they had arrived.

They took a seat on the couch in the waiting room, instead of their usual chairs. It would be too weird, sitting in those chairs without Dot, and the couch would definitely be more comfortable right now.

For once in his life, Yakko actually sat quietly in the waiting room. This was because the minute they sat on the couch, Wakko fell asleep.

Yakko gazed down at him. Although he was sleeping, Wakko’s expression was anything but peaceful. Yakko could see tiny beads of sweat on the tense face.

Yakko was just as tense about the whole situation as Wakko; he just didn’t show it as much. If he freaked out, Wakko would freak out more than usual, and there had to be at least one rational person around. Usually that would be Dot, if both of the brothers were incapacitated, but of course she wasn’t speaking to them.

“If Scratchy can’t help us, nobody can,” Yakko thought, almost ready to just throw in the towel. Clearly, his feelings for Wakko weren’t going to change. Dot was pretty set in her ways, so she wasn’t going to suddenly start liking their relationship. If they really couldn’t get Dot back, then to hell with it.

Not that Yakko wanted to live without his sister. He just realized that sometimes you had to know when to quit.

Looking down at Wakko again made Yakko realize he couldn’t quit. If they couldn’t get Dot to even speak to them, Wakko would continue to blame himself for the whole thing. Yakko realized that it was probably nobody’s fault, but carrying this kind of emotional burden could seriously harm a person—and it would be made doubly heavy, considering how emotional Wakko could get. Would he start punishing himself? To what extent?

“No,” Yakko thought. “We’re gonna get Dot back, whether she likes it or not.”

Just then, Hello Nurse came into the waiting room. “Dr. Scratchansniff is ready to see you now,” she announced.

In his office, Scratchy began to mentally prepare himself for the visit. Sure, the Warners seemed to be backing off on the zaniness lately, and Dot wasn’t with them this time, but the brothers could be pretty boisterous on their own. In fact, they might be even zanier as Dot was sometimes the force that curbed their insanity.

So Scratchy was more than a little surprised to see Yakko walk in quietly, supporting a sleepy-looking Wakko. He watched as the brothers climbed onto the couch and settled in, Wakko leaning heavily on Yakko. Yakko slid his arm around his little brother, then looked up at the psychiatrist.

“He’s not feeling very well,” Yakko explained.

“I see,” Scratchy responded, examining the glazed-over look in Wakko’s eyes. “Are you sure you don’t vant to reschedule?”

“I’m fine. Really,” Wakko insisted, his voice quiet.

“All right.” Sratchy sat back down in the chair in front of the couch. “So if you don’t mind my asking, vhy is Dot not vith you?”

“That’s what we needed to talk to you about,” Yakko answered, looking a little pained. “You know how I told you about my feelings for Wakko?”

“Ja?”

“And you told me to write them down?”

“Ja?”

“Well, I did, and it helped. For a while. Then my feelings started to get stronger, and well….”

“Here we are,” Wakko concluded, cuddling up to Yakko.

“Here you are? Vhat do you mean, ‘here?’” Scratchy was confused.

The brothers realized they’d skipped a lot of vital points. It wasn’t that obvious that they loved each other in a romantic way based on their actions right now.

“I told Wakko that I loved him, fully expecting him to be disgusted and hate me,” Yakko started.

“But then I told Yakko I loved him back,” Wakko continued.

“So we were all happy and in love until Dot found out. She yelled at Wakko, called him a whore—”

“Among other things,” Wakko interjected.

“And then she verbally ripped me a new one. Then she said she wanted nothing to do with us, and left.”

“And here we are,” Wakko finished.

Scratchy was shocked. Not by Yakko and Wakko’s incestuous relationship, but by Dot’s reaction. He never thought he’d see the day the Warner trio broke up. He’d thought nothing could get in the way of their bond. Plainly, he’d been wrong. Now, sanity be damned, he needed to fix it.

They continued to discuss the details of the past few days until the timer beeped. Their hour was up.

“Vhat I think you should do is come in for a group appointment, maybe a few days from now, ja? Dot is staying vith the Nurse right now, but maybe you should take a short break from each ozher before confronting her.”

Yakko perked up. Yes! That was exactly what he needed. He was only likely to yell at Dot right now, which wouldn’t help them make amends any faster. He wondered why he hadn’t thought of it himself. And Wakko….Well, if Dot was still angry at him, he didn’t seem to be in any condition to take her on right now.

Yakko scheduled an appointment for two days from the present one.

-O-o-O-

The brothers arrived home shortly after 10:15. Tiredness finally kicked in, prompting Yakko to go back to bed until noon.

Wakko tried very hard to cuddle up to Yakko and do the same, but his body wouldn’t let him. Running to the bathroom to toss his cookies was really getting annoying, especially since he hadn’t even gotten to eat yet.

As he was wiping his mouth for what felt like the 785th time that morning, he noticed his gag bag behind the toilet. He also noticed that something was nearly falling out of it.

Wakko picked up the something, which was a small box with the words, “Mistake-Free Test” written on it. He recognized it as the pregnancy test from that commercial that only came on late at night; it was the one with the stream hitting the little plastic stick. He snickered inwardly. He never knew what would come out of the gag bag, did he?

Then Wakko’s thoughts came to a screeching halt. Usually, he pulled things out of the gag bag because he instinctively knew he needed them. Sometimes he didn’t know what exactly he needed, but just reached in and got the perfect tool for the situation.

The next few thoughts came slowly, but surely. He always pulled what he needed from the gag bag. He’d just pulled out a pregnancy test. A few days ago, he and Yakko did the dirty. Toon gestation was very different from human gestation….

Almost without thinking, Wakko sat on the toilet, pulled out the plastic stick, and peed on it. Then he waited the obligatory one minute for the results. While he was waiting, he read the instructions. Blue meant negative, pink meant positive.

Wakko checked his watch (which magically appeared on his wrist). Only twenty seconds had gone by. It was only a minute, yet it was taking a week.

Wakko alternated staring at his watch and staring at the stick. The last second of the minute ticked away. The result screen was still blue. Wakko’s heart soared.

Then it hit the ceiling and came plummeting back to earth as the screen suddenly turned from blue to pink.

Wakko snatched up the box. “Works in….one minute and one second?!” he read. “What the hell kind of random waiting time is that?!”

In the bedroom, Yakko couldn’t sleep. Despite his outward behavior, he really didn’t hold out much hope for getting Dot back. Sure, Scratchy was a good psychiatrist, but this whole incest thing was too big to be solved. Yakko couldn’t get rid of his feelings for Wakko using his journal, and Dot would never approve of their relationship. But what the hell, he’d give it a try. What did they have to lose?

Yakko finally realized that he wasn’t going back to sleep. He was too wired. So he decided to go in the bathroom and splash water on his face. Then maybe he’d stare intensely at his reflection while piano music played, possibly with a spinning effect.

When he got to the bathroom, the door was mostly closed, but through a tiny crack, he could see Wakko sitting in front of the toilet.

“Wakko?” Yakko called softly. Wakko didn’t answer. He seemed to have not even heard Yakko.

Yakko pushed open the bathroom door, fearing his brother was hurt, or even worse, that he’d hurt himself on purpose. “Wakko, are you okay?” he asked.

Wakko was sitting on the floor in front of the toilet, staring at something in he held in his hands. As Yakko came closer, he walked around in front of Wakko to see what he was holding, then stopped dead in his tracks when he saw what it was.

It was a pregnancy test.

Thinking fast, Yakko saw the instructions sitting on the counter, snatched them up, and started to speed-read them until Wakko spoke.

“It’s positive.”

Yakko turned around, absolutely speechless. Personally, he didn’t like these times when he could think of absolutely nothing to say and he didn’t like that they were becoming more common.

Then Wakko turned to look up at him with an utterly destroyed look on his face and the words came rushing back.

“Oh my god….I can’t believe I did this to you….It’s mine isn’t? Of course it is, you’ve never done that with anybody else. Oh god, I never wanted to hurt you. This is all my fault. What have I done? I never meant for you to go through all this. Oh god, what about Dot! She’s going to find out about it sooner or later. She’ll never approve. What have I done to you….”

To Wakko’s complete surprise, Yakko broke down and began to cry. Yakko had always tried to be the strong, fearless older brother, never letting anything bother him, always the optimist. And most importantly, he never cried. Now, he was curled up in the fetal position, bawling his eyes out. Wakko knew exactly what his brother needed and it wasn’t in the gag bag.

Yakko suddenly looked up to see Wakko walking towards him and putting his arms around him.

“Let me be the strong brother this time,” Wakko whispered.

Yakko succumbed to the embrace. His tears subsided slightly as Wakko quietly comforted him, assuring, “Everything’s going to be all right.”

-O-o-O-

The next day, they went to their group appointment and it went horribly. Dot showed up, no less angry about the situation. They had started to talk about the whole thing, until Yakko said that Dot had to know about a recent discovery.

The minute Wakko told Dot he was pregnant and it was Yakko’s child, any chance they had of getting Dot to move back in hurled itself out the window. She instantly went into “destroy Wakko mode,” calling him a “filthy strumpet” and then yelling at Yakko for being a “disgusting pervert.” Then she yelled about how Wakko should abort the fetus because no child deserved to have the disgrace of having such perverts for parents. Wakko ran crying into the inner office, while Yakko shouted Dot down for saying such horrible things. Soon, blows were exchanged and Scratchy had to pull Yakko and Dot off of each other while Hello Nurse comforted a wailing Wakko.

In the end, Dot refused to ever speak to her brothers again. A week later, she packed up her things and left Hello Nurse’s house for Domino City—located on the east coast of the United States, a whole continent’s width from Burbank.

Five years later, Yakko looked across the water tower at Wakko playing with their son, Zakko. He was a very healthy, happy child, especially since the nature of his parentage was kept a secret from him. Both brothers decided that until Zakko was old enough to understand, he was better off not knowing. They didn’t want to scar his little brain and make him feel like it was his fault Dot left, because it wasn’t. It wasn’t anyone’s fault.

Yakko gazed admiringly at Zakko. He was an adorable little pup; he looked just like Wakko, but he’d clearly inherited Yakko’s personality. He’d been talking since he was little more than a year old and he could always think of something funny to say. But sometimes, when he was lost in thought or asleep, his tongue would slip out of the corner of his mouth and he’d look even more like a mini-Wakko.

Then, if Zakko struck a cute pose after saying something particularly funny, he remind Yakko of Dot.

Yakko had to wonder how Dot was doing. Was she faring as well as he, Wakko, and Zakko were? Was she happy? Would they ever see her again? Would she change her mind if she could see how wonderful her nephew was?

Zakko came to sit on the couch and watch TV while Wakko went to check on dinner. Yakko had noticed that Wakko had changed significantly since Zakko was born. Sure he was still wacky, but not as much as he’d been before. He’d toned down the gross behavior as well, and seemed overall more mature. The only things that hadn’t changed was the fact that he kept his gag bag and he still wore his cap.

Yakko had changed, too. He was still talkative, but he greatly toned down the amount of off-color jokes he made. He’d also put his talents to use teaching Zakko the countries of the world, but of course, he had to update his song a little. And he and Zakko could talk for hours on end, while Wakko added to the conversation from time to time.

He’d also started wearing a shirt, but that was really not a big deal.

During a commercial break, Zakko went to go set the table. As he was going back into the living room, he noticed a picture hanging on the wall by the doorway. It was a peculiar picture. He figured it was from when his father and uncle were younger. Actually, they didn’t look too different from the way they did in the photo, so that was why he could recognize them.

In the photograph, three kids were posing. Yakko, on the left seemed to have a knowing smile on his face, like he’d just figured out something really funny. He had one hand in the pocket of his slacks, which were still too big for him. In the middle was Wakko, in his blue sweatshirt and red cap. He had a blissful expression on his face, his tongue dangling from the corner of his mouth. He held a humongous mallet behind his back.

The third kid, a girl, puzzled Zakko to no end. She resembled Dad and Uncle Yakko, but he’d never seen her before. In fact, he’d never even heard Wakko or Yakko mention a female Warner.

Yakko noticed Zakko looking at the picture and had to sigh. He’d tell him about Dot one day, he swore. But he just wasn’t ready right now.

“Uncle Yakko, who’s that girl with you and Dad?” Zakko finally asked.

Yakko gazed at the picture a few seconds longer before answering, “Someone we knew a very long time ago.”

The End

“Wait, wait, WAIT!”

In a white void, a tiny mammoth was yelling. The mammoth sat next to a teenaged girl, sitting cross-legged. The girl held a clipboard with a stack of filler paper and almost too-short-to-use pencil, which she’d dropped when the mammoth started yelling.

The mammoth, whose name was Hrothella, stood up, her hands on her hips. “You cannot end the story like that!”

The girl (whom we will call Fae), having recovered from the (very) slight surprise of the mammoth yelling, was unaffected. “And why not?” she responded dryly.

“Because it’s terrible! Sure, it’s written okay, but it’s the most depressing thing I’ve seen since I read Les Miserables!” Hrothella answered. “The Warner siblings break up forever? What kind of ending is that?”

“Uh….An emotionally moving ending?”

“Yes, but a really, really sad one!” Hrothella continued.

“So what’s your point?”

Hrothella sighed, exasperatedly. Humans could be so dense. “My point is that, yes, it’s okay to throw in a sad ending to a story here and there, but not in an Animaniacs fanfic! The Animaniacs are all about fun and zaniness—not this drama-soaked, so-soapy-you-could-wash-dishes-with-it depress-fest you just wrote! It has to be funny, wacky, happy!”

Fae raised an eyebrow. “So you want ‘zany?’”

“Yes!”

“Happy?” The eyebrow twitched.

“Yes!”

“Wacky?” The mouth twitched.

“Hells, yeah!” Hrothella jumped a foot off the bed, then noticed the crazy grin on Fae’s face. “Wait…What are you doing? What are you writing? Hey, don’t you ignore me, Missy! You’d better not cut me off with the next chapter—”

-O-o-O-o-O-

And the moral of today’s story is: Never go full Targaryen.

[nepoupdates]

rumor // heard that ace and franny kissed and i thought FINALLY i was rooting for them but then apparently he dropped her SO FKCIN FAST to dance with paige??? when i say man you say whore MANWHORE

i'll admit it , franny is cute . and generally , i'm a general supporter of seeing the world burn . HOWEVER COMMA . if your slutty tendencies come at the expense of poor fran's feelings , you've got another one coming buddy . as for paige ... guess that " relationship " didn't really work out for you , did it bud ? hope y'all enjoyed sucking face as much as you enjoyed the spoiled milk i farted in and put in your fridges last week . ( @daydreamsfm , @paigeisms , @delicatlueur !! )

[8makesonescream]

There is a video that's been going around where an IDF soldier rifles through the clothing of a married Palestinian woman whilst shaming the underwear she chooses to wear. He goes on to say that "Arab women are the sluttiest" whilst showing off her clothing to the entire world and I want to point out that IF YOU ARE SHARING THAT VIDEO OR LINKS TO IT YOU ARE JUST AS BAD. YOU ARE SHARING THIS POOR WOMAN'S SHAME AND YOU NEED TO STOP.

Her sexuality is being broadcast for the world to see, and she is being humiliated. It feeds into this narrative that Arab women are just objects to be sexualised, shamed and assaulted, and honestly, you should be ashamed of yourself for posting this video to your platforms. This is a form of misogyny and it has to stop.

And before anyone says ANYTHING, no I have not seen the video itself but I have seen posts talking about it and linking to it.

[michiruze]

[Edited 240703]

Many people have said that the best way to avoid dudebros and incels in fandom is to not interact once they make bigoted jokes, but however, there is an easier, surefire way to detect dudebros and incels, especially anime and manga, without having to interact with them:

Never trust people who are disgusted by Shoujo.

Never trust anyone who expresses disgust towards media catered to women (and non-men), be it Shoujo, Otome games, and more.

It is a misogyny litmus test, but hating Shoujo can reveal a lot about a person, it is most likely a sign of homophobia, queerphobia, transphobia, and bigotry.

Let me explain,

Recently, bigoted dudebros and incels from all over the world has been more millitant on their bigotry online due to.....more media being catered for women. Hiding behind their hentai and fanservice girl profile pictures, they were upset as hell, spitting out angry 'thinkpieces' on 'the double standards feminists has on media with fanservice' --- solely for the fact that there are media where male characters are treated like female characters in media that dudebros enjoy.

You might be asking, "How does hating hetero romance manga mean that someone might be misogynistic, queerphobic, and transphobic? They hate hetero romance, it's nothing weird. A lot of people just can't stand heterosexual stories."

Simple. The answer is that they simply hate women. It's not 'heterophobia', it's misogyny. They hate stuff made for women.

Here's a bitter truth about men who hates Shoujo:

The way dudebros describe male characters in Shoujo and Joseimuke media also veers to homophobia and transphobia, calling them 'gay' or misgendering them, all because of these characters not adhering to their standards of masculinity.

They also carry these views to women (and marginalized genders) who enjoy them with slut-shaming to boot, solely for the fact that they see and treat male characters the same way that dudebros see and treat female characters.

When dudebros sees women and non-men getting attracted to male characters, they see it as a threat, as a reflection on how they would treat real men (ignoring that there are sapphic, ace, and aro shoujo enjoyers!), as if they weren't already treating real women like shit the same way they do it to female characters.

When dudebros hate on 'hetero romance Shoujo', they do not like the fact that what women consider to be 'ideal relationship' is different than their ideal relationship (Dudebros always ignore the fact that Shoujo readers aren't necessarily wanting real relationships to be 'just like in Shoujo', and again, will always ignore the existence of queer Shoujo readers. They assume all Shoujo readers are 'straight women').

They do not like how women are attracted to men who aren't them, they do not like how women who are attracted to men are 'seeking these <insert homophobic slur here> men' who they do not see as 'ideal men'.

"But I don't like Shoujo! I just don't like it, not in the misogynistic way incels do!"

This isn't a call for anyone to 'go like Shoujo now' --- disliking Shoujo is fair, it is not a bad thing to dislike it. You don't have to like it, Shoujo is not for everyone after all. Romance and shipping is not for everyone after all (even though there are Shoujo media with no romance).

Just stay in your lane and stay away from Shoujo-positive spaces, don't be assholes to people who like Shoujo.

But feeling disgust over media made for women (and queer people) and being assholes towards people who enjoy it is not a good behaviour.

At this point and climate, Shoujo hate often means "Women are not allowed to have things made for them, because it will turn them into delusional sluts who will threaten real masculinity. Women will be so poisoned by Shoujo that they will become man-hating sexuality-collecting gender-queers who will not bend to real men."

And it happens all too often. It is no longer cringe culture, but outright hate.

That is why Shoujo hate is gateway to bigotry.

[notthesafestrayyblog]

Have to get this blog off its feet so unfortunately i have got to get some nonrarepair stuff here. So sorry 😔

[textmel8r]

[ SMAU ] 𝐎𝐅𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐄 𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒 ! ( third installment ) in which you are forced to plan a corporate event with your office enemy .

୨୧˚ part; one. two. three. four. five. six. seven. eight. nine. ten. eleven.

୨୧˚ incl; kento nanami

୨୧˚ cw; slutshaming , profanity , crack , shigemo mention

୨୧˚ an; thank you for the support on this new series!! next installment will provide more in depth detail about the christmas party, stay tuned🙇🏻🙇🏻

likes and reblogs are appreciated !

tags . • @justbelljust

[bumblesimagines]

Curiosities

Part 2

Request: Yes or No

Summary: King Aegon keeps his word and uses his power as the king to get what he desires. His decision flips (Y/N)'s world on its axis.

Pronouns: He/Him/His, M!Reader

TW/CW: Typical GoT/HOTD warnings, mild slutshaming, implied homophobia (the Faith), mentions of child exploitation/abuse, mentions/implications of sexual and physical abuse toward sex workers, mentions of child/teen-adult relationships, takes place in S2 and while it doesn't follow the latest episodes as of currently beware of spoilers

These warnings keep getting longer and longer 😮‍💨

Divider from @targaryen-dynasty!

~~~

The members of the Small Council rose to their feet when Aegon strode into the room; uneasy glances and frowns being exchanged when they took in the skip in his step and the wide smile dangling from his lips. He had something in mind, something that most certainly wouldn't do them any good if it came from Aegon Targaryen of all people. 

"Good morrow," Aegon greeted them, setting his hands over the armrests of his chair and settling down comfortably at the end of the table. The council members tentatively sat down, dipping their heads in greeting and exchanging more glances. He raised his hand when Lord Jasper went to speak, effectively silencing the man. "Before we begin, I'd like to bring up the subject of taking an official paramour. These last few days have been... hard, to say the least, but I believe my pain has been soothed."

"Your Grace," Alicent began, her eyes fluttering shut in exasperation and chest falling with a heavy sigh. "I believe it's far too soon to be taking a mistress, much less the proper time with war brewing on the horizon. You are without an heir for the moment, so I understand the desire to-" 

"This is hardly about heirs or children, Mother." Aegon cut in swiftly, his back pressing against the chair and jaw ticking with a smidge of annoyance. "I want this. I will have this, one way or another. I am merely... informing you all." 

Clearing his throat, Maester Orwyle regarded his king with a small smile. "Perhaps knowing the name of your lover will soothe worries, Your Grace. Does she reside in the Red Keep? What house is she from? We certainly wouldn't want to bring any offense to her family during this time. Many fathers are oft' protective of their daughters and would find it insulting for one to become a mere mistress." 

"You're in luck then," Aegon grinned widely, his thumb rubbing against one of the many rings adorning his fingers. He took in the perplexed and curious looks on each of their faces, savoring their undivided attention. He swiped his tongue over his lips and reached forward toward his goblet, tilting it toward the cupbearer and listening to the heavenly sound of wine being poured. "For my lover and future paramour does not come from any noble family." He couldn't help but giggle, taking a sip from his wine. "He comes from the Street of Silk." 

Silence followed his revelation, each of the council members staring at him in complete and utter shock. His mother moved first, her folded hands unlacing so she could rub the bridge of her nose. Her eyes squeezed shut, lips rolling into her mouth to prevent any unsavory words from spilling out. Lord Jasper reached for his goblet next, drinking every last drink in it and motioning for some more while Maester Orwyle and Lord Tyland blinked at him in astonishment. 

"Y-Your Grace," Maester Orwyle stuttered, "The Faith of the Seven views the act of-"

"The Faith views incest, bastardy, and prostitution sins as well, Grand Maester. Yet many of the men sitting at this very table are guilty of at least one of these things. Besides, I am of Targaryen blood and I am the King of Westeros, am I not? My grandsire King Jaehaerys put a law in place exempting those with Valryian blood from being judged, did he not?"

Aegon's smile shifted from genuine into a more daring one, his eyes burning into those of Maester Orwyle and any other council members who felt bold enough to look in his direction. "My word is law."

Alicent's eyes fluttered open and she leaned back in her chair, casting a glance at the rest of the council members. "Think of what you are asking-"

"I've made my decision, Mother." Aegon interrupted once more, smirking at the way she clenched her jaw, and turned his head to study his newest Hand, Ser Criston. The knight straightened up, ever so loyal, and Aegon smiled brightly. Finally, someone who wouldn't object. "I have some orders for you, Ser Criston."

Digging his teeth into the warm loaf of bread he'd been given, (Y/N) walked along the gravelly, muddy road in the direction of the Street of Silk. His breakfast had been a gift from a patron who frequented the brothel, one of the few good things of working where he did. Lavish gifts were expected from nobles who could afford whatever they desired, though they more often than not merely dressed their favorite workers up like little dolls.

The smallfolk could hardly compare but they provided the more necessary gifts; food, drinks, materials. It hardly had anything to do with genuine love or care, and more so the simple desire of holding the gift over his head, but (Y/N) would never be in a position to ignore free food.

Madam Sylvi had long stopped providing him with anything other than a place to bathe and sleep, claiming he was no longer a babe and had to provide for himself just as the rest of the smallfolk. She was a good madam, better than most brothel owners, and she tried to take care of all the women and men she took under her wing, but she couldn't be everywhere at once; and she couldn't kick out every patron that grew bolder or more sadistic. 

His eyes dragged away from the light gray clouds rolling overhead as he stepped into the Street of Silk, the sound of pleasure and music filling his ears from brothels accepting patrons. Eager men bustled up and down the street, jeering at those lingering by their respective brothels in hopes of enticing one to come inside. But still, things seemed more oddly quiet than usual, (Y/N) noted, and he soon realized why when he noticed the elegant carriage waiting outside of Madam Sylvi's brothel. 

Ripping the bread in his hand apart, he tossed one piece toward the child sitting in an alleyway, his ribs visibly showing throw his thin layer of dirty, ripped clothes. The child sprang to his feet and dug eagerly into the bread, his eyes lighting up with newfound life.

As (Y/N) shoved the rest of his bread into his mouth and quickened his step, he hoped one act of kindness would spare him later. He swallowed down the food, throat itching for water, and stopped by the large double doors where a fellow brothel worker stood by.

His lips parted to question her on the carriage but he winced when he noticed the darkening bruise on her cheek, staring near the corner of her lip and ending near her eye. Hardly seemed like an accident. Alise brushed her fingers over the purple skin, her dark eyes slightly watering and her nose scrunching up in pain.

"Was it Felir again?" He asked instead with a gentle sigh, taking a step toward her and sweeping back some of her blonde hair. 

"Always is." She responded with a sigh of her own, dropping her hand down toward her chest where her dress plunged enough to show most of her cleavage, finger hooking to drag it down even further. "He pays too well to be thrown out, though. I hear he's grown tired of his new wife now that she's grown heavy with child. I'm certain we'll be seeing him around more often when the babe comes."

"I'm sorry."

"You mustn't be." Alise dismissed with a wave of her hand. "Be thankful he has no interest in boys, otherwise he'd do a whole lot more than what the Targaryen's done to your neck." She reached out to push back the hood of his cloak and dragged her fingertips over the markings on his throat, an amused grin forming on her face until she winced and touched her cheek again. 

"You should rest." (Y/N) told her, giving her arm a delicate squeeze before he pushed open one of the large wooden doors leading into the brothel. The air still reeked of smoke, sweat, and drinks despite the open window but most of the brothel had been cleaned up and ready for another round of patrons. He and the others would be given a chance to rest and eat, although when he spotted the two men in their shining silver armor and long white cloaks, he suspected his day wouldn't be the same as the rest.

The Sworn Brotherhood - better known as Kingsguards - were sworn to never own land, take a wife, or father children so they could fully focus on their duty of protecting the king and the royal family. Of course, they were still men, and despite the sworn promise to remain as pure as fresh snow, most of them were regulars at brothels; but they never sought workers out in their uniforms, much less in broad daylight. It'd be asking for swift punishment.

"Here he is, the man you seek." Madam Sylvi announced with a smile full of feigned joy that only made his stomach drop. She rose from her chair swiftly, the long skirt of her dress swishing with her movements, and she hurried over to him, her arms sliding around his shoulders and head dropping to whisper in his ear. "The King has asked for you, sweet boy. I do not know why but you must mind your step and tread lightly." Her nails dug through the fabric covering his arms. 

Aegon.

"The King has ordered your swift removal from this.. establishment so that you may settle into your new apartments in Maegor's Holdfast as his new paramour. He asks that you only take belongings of sentimental value so we may escort you to your new home as quickly as possible. He's asked of us to assure you no harm or insult will come to you for as long as he reigns." One Kingsguard spoke, his voice largely devoid of emotion and stance rigid with alert, but he shifted his weight from foot to foot. He seemed nervous, perhaps flustered. At least he attempted to appear like a Kingsguard whereas his companion blatantly ogled one of the girls until subtly elbowed.

(Y/N) looked between the two men, his fingers curling around the skirt of Madam Sylvi's dress. It'd been years since he'd last clutched to her like a child, but he felt tremendously small under the unnerving stares from the two knights. "Sylvi," He exhaled, tearing his eyes away from the knights to look at her soft features. 

"Perhaps it will be temporary, until the anxieties and worries of war pass." She soothed softly but the subtle tremble of her voice gave away her real thoughts. Paramours could be replaced, they often were, but hardly any noble - much less a king - had ever so publicly announced their new lover. "Go collect your things, (Y/N). We mustn't make King Aegon wait." 

Madam Sylvi ushered him up the stairs toward the rooms on the second floor where workers without homes to return to slept. His legs moved automatically toward his room at the end of the hall, or rather... his old room.

The idea hadn't settled in fully, not yet. He'd called the brothel home for far too many years. He'd been born in one of the many rooms he walked past; he'd raced up and down the halls whilst playing games; he'd been bathed and clothed and doted on by many in the very place he now had to leave. 

"(Y/N)!" A squeaky voice called out, soft footsteps thumping after him. (Y/N) stopped by the door into his old room, hand hovering over the doorknob and head tilting to peer down at the girl rushing toward him. Lyla collided with his leg, her arms wrapping around it and her chin resting over his hip as she looked up at him with glittering blue eyes. "Are you leaving?" 

"Afraid so, Ly." (Y/N) answered, opening the door and stepping inside the familiar room. The girl of only thirteen followed him inside, her lips forming a pout. He still remembered when her first flowering had occurred, a sign she'd become a lady. Her maidenhood had been up for auction the following month and a stout fisherman had managed to be the highest bidder. (Y/N) had been the one to clean the blood from her legs and ensure she drank moon tea. 

With a heavy exhale, (Y/N) looked over his rather plain room. He'd never given it any thought to decorate it with things from around King's Landing, for many of his fellow workers had sticky fingers and an eye for beautiful things. His bed was big enough to fit his body and his blanket thick enough to keep him warm throughout winter. There were a few potted plants around the room, something he added for some color and life. Otherwise, everything would merely be wood-toned.

"Will you visit?" Lyla asked, seating herself in the middle of his bed and tugging at the ends of her dress as she crossed her legs. Her eyes followed him as he sorted through his clothes and belongings in search of anything he'd miss, only to conclude the single item he considered valuable was the bracelet wrapped around his wrist; a simple gift from Madam Sylvi but one he held dearly. 

"I... am not sure, Ly. I will try to, if... if they allow me." (Y/N) responded, kneeling down by his bed and blindly searching until his hand bumped into the small wooden box he kept. He slipped his fingers around it and rose back up to take a seat beside the young girl, lifting the lid to reveal the glittering jewelry hidden within. Lyla gasped softly and shuffled closer. 

"They're pretty!" 

"Gifts from countless men and women, noble and smallfolk alike. I have collected and hidden them throughout the years for they are of little use to me. But, now that I am leaving... I believe you should have them. Take a few for yourself, Ly, but hide them where no other will find them. You must tell Madam Sylvi that you wish to exchange the rest for coin. It should be enough for your aunt to pay her debts and you'll never have to come here for work again." (Y/N) instructed her, digging through the jewelry until he found a thin silver necklace and clipped it around her neck.

"Truly?" Lyla asked quietly, her eyes shimmering with tears. Her fingers glided along the necklace until they curled around it, squeezing it tight in her smaller hand. 

"Truly." (Y/N) nodded, setting the box on her lap and planting a kiss on her temple. His fingers brushed back some of her black curls, a bittersweet feeling bubbling in his chest at the tears that spilled down her round cheeks. An orphaned child so desperate to remain with the last of her family that she'd shown up on their doorstep asking for a job, first as a mere servant and then into something more horrid. 

With Lyla's future looking brighter than his, he stood from his bed and took one last look at his room before venturing out into the hall and down to the first floor. The knights awaited him by the doors, the younger one of the two once again distracted by those coming and going. The one who'd addressed him straightened up at the sight of him, his gaze dropping down to (Y/N)'s empty hands and the lack of luggage. 

"I have... little of value."

"Very well." The knight cleared his throat. "We must depart for the Red Keep, then."

(Y/N) had never been in a carriage before, and he had to admit it was an odd feeling. Many of the roads leading back toward the Red Keep were bumpy and far from easy to travel. He found himself holding onto the cushioned seat beneath him as his body lurched and swayed with the bumps and light shaking of the carriage, his fingers digging into the soft fabric in a vain attempt at stabilizing himself. How lords and ladies could withstand such dizzying rides was beyond him. 

When the carriage finally rolled to a smooth stop and the door on the side opened, the extent of the situation finally dawned on him. He'd never been to the Red Keep; Seven Hells, the only time he'd even stepped on the road leading up to the castle had been on his way to Fishmonger's Square.

But there he sat, in the main outer yard with the loud groaning of the main gate sliding closed behind him. He forced himself to step out of the carriage and out into the yard, the sight of servants, knights, and courtiers greeting him. 

"This way, my..." The knight trailed off and exchanged a wide-eyed look with his companion. (Y/N) was no courtier, no page or ward, no lordling with lands and titles. He was merely... a prostitute; a whore as patrons loved to call him and his friends. Everyone around them seemingly came to the same conclusion, their stares becoming scrutinizing or pitiful. 

"(Y/N)," He said quietly, tugging his cloak further over his shoulders, suddenly feeling extremely aware of how plain his clothes seemed in comparison to the courtiers lingering around. He prayed the hood covered his neck from prying eyes. "Call me (Y/N), Ser." 

The knight nodded, his helmet slipping further down his head with his movements. It seemed the new Lord Commander of the Kingsguard had chosen... a questionable lot for the job. (Y/N) dug his teeth into the tip of his tongue and lowered his head, an action that'd become second nature to him whenever he left the brothel, for drawing attention to yourself in the city was asking to be robbed or killed. It hardly helped him inside the castle, however. Those they walked by stared and whispered amongst themselves, blatantly motioning in his direction while doing so.

(Y/N) saw the look in their eyes, the way they turned their noses up and scoffed as if his mere presence brought a stain to the castle. Nobles believed themselves to be better than those who worked to provide everything they required, and it was that sense of ego that often made them the best customers; for a simple stroke of their ego had them spilling more coin than they could count. Most of them were fools, even with the high education they received, (Y/N) knew this well. Appearing timid and meek did people little favors in Flea Bottom, even less so among the nobility. 

Madam Sylvi had been right. He had to tread lightly. 

After a long walk through many hallways and staircases, the knights finally stopped before two large oak doors and simultaneously pushed them open to reveal the bedchambers within. "Your apartments... (Y/N)." One spoke rather awkwardly, vaguely motioning with his hand for him to enter. (Y/N) stepped into the room and stopped, blinking at the size alone. 

His... 'apartments' were even larger than the brothel if the two floors combined into one. On the far right end elevated by a small platform sat a luxurious-looking bed large enough to fit at the very least five people with a wooden canopy holding sheer curtains at the sides. Near the bed sat a desk with blank papers and a quill ready to be used alongside beautifully carved wooden chests for storage whilst on the opposite side stood a large closet.

In the center of the room, a beautiful rug with flower designs covered most of the floor, long couches and comfortably looking seats atop with a dining table set nearby. Lined along the walls were numerous paintings and shelves, some filled with books and others empty.

His eyes were immediately drawn to the large open window at the left side of the room that overlooked part of the city and ocean, a gentle breeze flowing in from it. Near the window sat a bronze tub on one side and a few more chairs by a fireplace on the other. Extremely extravagant, he had to admit, but far too much for a single person. His old room seemed pebble-sized in comparison. 

"I am Ser Corlin and I will be stationed outside at all times if you ever require my presence or assistance. I will follow you wherever you must go and am sworn to give my life for you if needed as King Aegon has assigned me as your Sworn Shield." (Y/N)'s brows furrowed and he whirled around to face the more talkative of the two knights, his eyes flickering to the other one when he dipped his head and left. Ser Corlin seemed a well enough protector, if not a little young. 

"Why would I need a... 'Sword Shield'?" He hardly knew what that meant, but based on Ser Corlin's words it appeared to be quite the important job. "I am merely... I am hardly important enough to need protection, Ser." 

"You are King Aegon's paramour; the only one of many to be given such attention. We cannot know for sure if any envious past lovers may wish ill upon you or if Rhaenyra the Cruel will attempt to harm you to cause our king further strife." Ser Corlin explained, shuffling aside to allow a few maids into the room. He dipped his head, providing no further information, and shut the door behind him. 

"How wonderful." (Y/N) exhaled, hands undoing the laces of his cloak and carefully tugging it off his shoulders. One maid sprang into action, collecting the cloak from his arms and looking over the muddied ends with a thoughtful look. He blinked at her, watching her dip her head similarly to Ser Corlin and slip out of the room. Were they... bowing? To him? 

"I'm Laerra," The eldest looking between the maids spoke before motioning to the other three with her. "These are Eliza, Shana, and Marya. We will be primarily tending to your needs: bathing, changing, cleaning, and fulfilling any requests you ask of us. His Grace wished for you to be changed into some of the clothing stored in the closet, if we may?" 

"I... am not a child. I can change myself." 

"It would be better if we did it for you, My Lord." The round-faced redhead, Eliza, spoke next, a hint of meekness in her voice. The usage of a title made him grimace but if it made things easier on the servants, he'd deal with it, he supposed.

Pursing his lips, (Y/N) sighed and nodded, finding no use in arguing with the customs of nobility. The maids moved swiftly; one of them filled a basin with water and warmed it by the fireplace, another fetched the clothes, and the remaining two began removing his clothes.

They worked diligently and quickly, a focused look passing over each of their faces. Shana scrubbed and dried his skin with a rag she dipped into the basin, getting his skin rid of any sweat and dirt it accumulated during his trip in the city, giving herself a nod of approval when she finished. Eliza scooped his old clothes into her arms and disappeared from his room as Marya and Laerra began dressing him in soft fabrics. 

"Imported fabrics and cloths from Dorne and some of the Free Cities, My Lord," Marya revealed when he eyed the white undershirt, the soft fabric rubbing nicely against his skin as they put him in a dark green overshirt. When they slipped gem-adorned rings on his fingers, she added, "Gemstones from Pentos. The King wished for nothing else than beautiful." 

"Thank you." He told them, feeling pampered yet suffocated. "I-... You.. may go. I'd like time alone, if I may." 

"Shall we bring you some wine? Perhaps some lemon cakes, as well?" Laerra questioned but when he waved them off, they all dipped into a curtsy and ushered themselves out of the room, plunging it into heavy silence that loomed over him like a storm cloud. It was too much, all of it. The room, the clothes, the accessories. He'd had a perfectly fine life in the Street of Silk, despite everything he witnessed and experienced. 

(Y/N) tugged the rings from his fingers, scattering them across the dining table, and undid the buttons of his overshirt to pull it off and drape it over a chair. He had little need for such things, for so many layers. He collapsed on one of the chairs and braced his arms over the table, his eyes drifting over to the window. His ears strained to catch the bustle of the city but the wind was all he heard, amongst muffled chatter and footsteps from the hallway outside. 

"Gods," He sighed and ran a hand over his face, slumping back in the chair. "What have I gotten myself into?" 

(Y/N) hardly had any time to process before the doors swung open and Ser Corlin's voice echoed into the room, "Dowager Queen Alicent Hightower." His lips pressed together tightly, teeth digging into his inner bottom lip and a heavy exhale escaping through his nose. The Gods lacked mercy for him, it seemed. 

"Your Grace," (Y/N) greeted, standing up from the chair and bending at the waist when he turned around to face her. Queen Alicent (was she to be referred to as Dowager Queen? There were far too many titles) strode into his room with an air of grace, her dark eyes sliding over to him while her features remained blank.

Queen Alicent was beautiful with long dark auburn hair that'd been tied back and cascaded along her back, big brown eyes that studied him closely, and a slender figure. She appeared youthful, and he had to remind himself she had most of her children before reaching the age of twenty. 

"You must be (Y/N)." She spoke softly, her voice soothing and gentle. "I apologize for the sudden intrusion... amongst other things. I am aware my son feels quite fondly of you despite your former job. I must admit I was quite caught off guard when he announced his decision to move you here, into the Red Keep rather than housing you elsewhere as most other nobles do with their... lovers. May I ask what your family believes of this? I cannot say they will be welcomed if they seek riches." 

"I was born in Madame Sylvi's brothel. I do not know my father as my mother likely took many lovers a week to know for certain." 

Queen Alicent's brows furrowed, her long fingers ghosting over the hand of her hand to begin toying with one of her rings. "Likely? You.. you do not know your mother? How is that so?"

"I was never told." (Y/N) shrugged. "As a babe, I was passed around to whomever had the milk to feed me. My mother never claimed me as her own, but I'm sure she tended to me at one point or another. The women there never cared to tell me who amongst them had birthed me. They were all my mothers, I suppose. I can assure you they'd only approach me for favors if the idea ever struck them." 

"Born in a brothel.." Queen Alicent murmured quietly, her skirt gliding along the floor as she drew closer to him, her hand coming to rest along the top of the chair at the end of the table. "Forgive me if it is a difficult question to answer, but may I know the age you were when you began... working?" 

"I was eight years of age when frequenters began asking, nine when I began working. It is tradition in most brothels to auction the first time to the highest bidder as most patrons enjoy laying with virgins. I hardly recall the night but I believe it was with a couple from Braavos." His hand moved to grasp the wrist where the bracelet remained, thumb pressing into it at the memory of Madam Sylvi gifting it to him the following day after the couple left. The Dowager Queen paled. "They paid well." He added, though it hardly sounded like much of a comfort.

"You were a child." She exhaled, breathless and her voice dripping with pity. The stone-faced look she'd carried when she first arrived had vanished, her glassy eyes reminding him of Aegon's. They looked so alike in certain lights, he noted, from the furrow of their brows to the curve of their lips. She appeared smaller, younger, without the emotionless facade she'd put up when first acknowledging him. 

"As were you when you wed King Viserys." (Y/N) spoke carefully, his words soft and knowing. She stared at him, the shine in her eyes growing and full lips parting with a shaky exhale. Queen Alicent's gaze fell onto the stone floor and the tip of her nails scraped against the wood of the chair she held onto, her chest rising and falling with a deep inhale. 

"It is the duty that falls on the shoulders of many young noble girls. It was expected of me, and I fulfilled my duty, as you well see." He heard the subtle tremble in her voice, saw the way the corner of her brows dipped with each word; was she convincing him or herself? (Y/N) could hardly tell, but what he did know was that with a simple few words the Queen's true nature had reared its head. She remained a young girl in her heart, despite the years of motherhood and marriage thrusted upon her. 

"Duty or not, it did not make you any less of a child, Your Grace." He moved slowly, somewhat cautiously, when he approached her, keeping his footsteps light and his posture relaxed.

(Y/N) studied her face, her reactions, and the way her body responded to his movements with keen, observant eyes. She watched him, her eyes darting down to his arms so he moved them behind his back to ease any worries of him lashing out toward her. He stopped a few feet away, keeping enough space between them for her to relax.

"Forgive me if I speak too plainly or boldly, Your Grace, for us smallfolk hardly ever converse with those above our stations. I assume you have your assumptions about me, about how I make my coin, but I do not just pleasure others."

She shifted her weight from one foot to the next, the way her eyes jumped around the room from item to item telling him she felt nervous, likely uncomfortable with the topic of sex. The necklace resting around her neck held a pendant similar to the seven-pointed star that represented the Seven. For a woman of faith and nobility speaking of sex with someone of the opposite sex whom she had no relation to would be considered scandalous. 

"I provide comfort, as well. A willing ear to those who desire to be heard without judgment. I hold many stories, secrets, desires, and hopes that have been told to me throughout many years that will never leave my lips. I value trust, and I would never break another's, even for coin. I had little friends in the city, I doubt I have any at all here," A flicker of recognition flashed in her eyes. "If you find yourself needing a friend, I'd be happy to listen over tea or sweets. I have a feeling I'll be finding myself... quite lonesome here." 

"I... I shall keep your offer in mind." Queen Alicent said gently, her fingers curling around her hand and lips forming a tight-lipped smile. She dropped her hands down to the sides of her skirt, slightly lifting the ends and departing toward the doors. She stopped before them and peered over her shoulder at him. "King Aegon has matters he is attending to but I'm certain he will welcome you once he is done. Welcome to the Red Keep, (Y/N)."

[ja3mln]

part one & three

cw: popular guy!jm, jealous!jm, smut, public sex, exhibitionism, fingering, cum eating (f), dirty talk, slutshaming, a bit of fluff, jm is whipped for reader

words: 1.5k

a/n: wanted to write a second part since yall liked the first one! thinking abt writing a third one with fluff only but idk😖 enjoy!

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jaemin definitely has a crush on you. he doesn't know how it happens but one thing he knows, it's that it's driving him crazy. of course, he crushed on girls before but one of his hook ups? never. he couldn't help but start acting differently towards you once he realized that his feelings for you start growing. he would walk you home after classes when he have the occasion to (and will end up fucking you in your apartment), he would make sure to send you a text to ask you if you ate today because he knows that you sometimes skip meals to go to the library and study, he even starts sending you good morning texts and good night texts. for you, it was just him being friendly because after all, spending time with jaemin besides the sex was nice.

today jaemin was throwing a party and the first thing he did was invite you. he found himself excitedly looking for you in the crowded rooms but when he finally spotted you, he didn't except for you to be with a random guy, probably a date because of the way you were laughing and touching his arm. he tried so hard to fight the jealousy that was filling his body. it's not like you both are exclusive, or officially together. you were just fucking, having friendly dates from time to time, just what friends with benefits normally do. then why jaemin was feeling so angry seeing you with another guy? he literally have all the girls at his feet but he wanted you more than anything. the first thought that came to his mind was that he wanted to grab you and fuck you in front of this guy. show him that only his cock can make you feel good. he quickly told himself to get his shit together and just joined his group of friends. he couldn't ignore the uncomfortable feeling in his chest, he really tried but he couldn't even have a conversation because he was too distracted, just the thought of you having fun with another guy won't leave his mind. he just couldn't take it anymore. once you were finally alone, he didn't hesitate to approach you.

"oh, hey jaemin!", just seeing your soft smile made jaemin's heart skipped a beat. he was just so whipped for you. "who's that guy?", he says with a monotone voice because he didn't want to sound too harsh. "my date...?" you reply a bit surprised by his question and mostly the dark look in his eyes. he gets closer to you, and your back end up on the wall as you look up at him. "i don't like that.", jaemin says with an hesitant voice, like he's scared that you'll never want to see him ever again if he reacts that way. in fact, you like the fact that jaemin is jealous. it's not like you didn't develop a small crush for him, it was too hard not to when jaemin was this caring and funny (and also a really good fuck). "you do?", a smirk appears on your lips and jaemin try to not show how surprised and relieved he is. maybe it was the few drunks that you had that made you so confident. one of his hands slides behind your neck so he can get a closer look at your face. "you know that i'm the only one who can make you feel good." and that was true. you never had better than him but it was hard to admit it. jaemin doesn't wait for an answer, pulling you close so he can put his lips on yours.

that's how you both start making out in the corner of the crowded room. you totally forgot about your date, your attention was now completely on jaemin. his grip on your neck gets tighter and his body gets closer to you until you can feel his growing boner on your core. you could already feel yourself getting wet. "should we give him a show, sweetheart ? show him who you belong to.", your heart skips a beat because of how possessive jaemin was getting. he waits for your approval because, of course, he won't do anything you don't want to. you never really had public sex, in front of people even if you both like fucking in public places. as soon as you nod, his lips found yours to share a messy kiss, full of desire for each other. one of his hands starts caressing your tights, dangerously getting closer to your pussy. jaemin breaks the kiss to put his lips on your neck, sucking on it to leave marks while his hand starts ghosting your clit through your panties. "fuck, you're already so wet... you such a dirty slut. you love the attention don't you?", he whispers while looking at you deeply in the eyes and you suddenly feel shy, your cheeks heating up and not finding the words to answer. jaemin feels his heart soften for a moment, he just couldn't fight the way you make him feel. he chuckles slightly before pulling your panties to the side, his lips going back to your neck. you look around you for a second, seeing some of the people looking at you but when your eyes fall on your date who's watching you with a confuse look, you feel your cheeks getting warmer. he just went to grab a drink for you and now you're here, making out with another guy. it's not just a random guy it's jaemin but still, you feel a bit ashame and try to look at him with sorry eyes but when you feel jaemin's fingers slide in your pussy, your eyes shut down and your mouth open to let a soft moan, making jaemin smirk against your neck and his mouth travels your neck to go to your ear. "he's looking right? poor guy. you didn't even hesitate to offer your pussy to me, what a shame", he whispers and not only his words but also his hot breath against your skin makes your pussy throbs. his fingers starts moving in you and he grabs your face with his free hand, forcing you to keep your head straight and your eyes open, "i want you to look at him while you desperately fuck yourself on my fingers like a bitch", and you just obey because it's jaemin (and because it kind of turns you on). you meet your date's eyes again, this time he has start a conversation with some random guys but his eyes were still on you and you find yourself getting wetter. jaemin's eyes were still on your face, he didn't want to miss any of your reactions. his moves were getting faster, following your hips. "just like that, baby", he says while the grip on your face gets tighter and he groans at how wet you are.

he loves the fact that people were watching (especially your date) and seeing how good he was making you feel. you feel your legs getting weaker and jaemin notices immediately how you're starting to shake. you try your best to keep your voice down, even if the music was loud enough to cover it. jaemin's fingers keeps fucking you as you start grabbing his arm so you don't fall. "gonna cum jaem...", your hips follows jaemin's hand and you look at him. you immediately see the tenderness in his look and you feel your heartbeats getting faster just by the way he's looking at you. jaemin didn't take off his eyes one second off your face, he just couldn't. you finally reach your orgasm, moaning his name and totally forgetting all the people around you. jaemin hold you so you don't fall because of the intense orgasm you're having. he takes off his fingers to bring it to his mouth, licking it without his eyes leaving yours. "i'm so glad to have this pussy just for me, you taste so fucking good", he smirks when he sees your cheeks heating up again and his lips finds yours for a sweet but intense kiss. you accidentally make an eye contact with your date (that you totally forgot) and straighten yourself immediately, pulling your dress down and giving jaemin a serious look. "fuck jaemin... that was so embarrassing! he's still looking at me...", you say, feeling way more ashame than you were when jaemin had his fingers in you. "he is? maybe i should fuck you in front of him so he will understand?", he playfully raises his eyebrows and you gently slap him on the arm, trying to hid your face in his neck. "shut up!", he can't even fight a smile, holding you closer. that's when he realized that it was too late. jaemin was falling for you.

[euphemiaamillais]

cry, kill, die part 2 - coriolanus snow

peacekeeper!coryo doesn’t like you talking to other men. you’re his, and he’s going to show you exactly what that means (ft. commander hoff finding out you’re a little more than friendly with private snow)

cw: 18+//piv sex//oral (f. receiving)//degrading//slutshaming//spanking//unresolved anger issues and a masssive ego (that’s just coryo for you)

part 1 here

you couldn’t help that private plinth was taking such an interest in you. he was sweet, not like the other peacekeepers who whistled as you walked past, not paying any heed to the fact that your father could have them shot for daring to touch his darling daughter. private plinth, you found out, was a very good friend—or so he liked to think—of private snow. this frustrated coriolanus more than anything. you were his property now, whether you liked it or not—and god forbid sejanus plinth, who really was district, touched his property.

it was hard to escape either of them, really, and on one particularly sultry summer’s day, when the ground burned from the sun and shimmering rays of heat danced across your vision, private snow decided that he’d had enough.

the way you were twirling your curls around your finger while private plinth leaned close to you, laughing as he told you a bad joke, likely. he can see the way plinth is undressing you with his eyes, and the fact that you’re wearing a tiny sundress, leaving little to imagine, made his blood boil. of course plinth of all the other peacekeepers took your eye—that boy was always out to get him.

‘you know, maybe one night we could catch a show at the hob—i hear the covey are performing soon,’ he hears plinth say with a smile.

you giggle, a blush creeping upon your cheeks. he wonders if plinth knows you’re a little whore who just weeks ago, was completely fucked out on his cock. plinth probably thinks you’re as fresh as a daisy, no doubt. you’re good at keeping up facades, he knows for a fact nobody else thinks you’re such a whore in spite of the way you flirt with everything that can talk.

you bat your thick, dark lashes and reach out to brush plinth’s arm playfully.

‘you’re so sweet, sejanus,’ you coo. coriolanus stands upright at the use of his friend’s first name—he didn’t know you were so close.

perhaps you were offering him favours too—he wouldn’t put that past you. getting on your knees for plinth and showing him what it meant to love a woman. he knew nothing about pleasing a woman, coriolanus knew that for sure. he was a virgin when he left the capitol and no doubt he was still one, even if you’d helped to ease his nerves one or two times.

‘will your father be okay with it?’ he inquires, hands fidgeting nervously. oh poor innocent sejanus, always trying to be the perfect gentleman.

coriolanus clenches his hand into a fist, heart pumping blood viciously around his body. if he could drive his fist into plinth’s jaw right now, he’d feel so much better. but he doesn’t do anything, merely stands there and continues to watch as you paw over his friend.

‘oh, daddy won’t mind. he likes you a lot, you know,’ you grin, swaying about on your feet. if only he could show you what happens when you dare to speak to another man…

you’re all his, you cemented that when you let him ravish you the other week. and yet, you still hasn’t been back to retrieve your panties. he kept them in the box at the end of the bed in the hopes that you’d come waltzing into the barracks one day or another, begging for him to show you what he could do with his tongue. or perhaps you’d get on your knees and help relieve him on a particularly stressful day.

but that was all a fantasy now. a stupid, lust-filled reverie.

‘i’m glad to hear that,’ sejanus brushes a piece of hair behind your ear and you can’t help but lean in to kiss him in the cheek.

‘you’re really sweet, sej, you know that?’ you say in a sickeningly sweet tone.

coriolanus could just about hurl. sej? what the fuck was that? some stupid nickname no doubt. but it suggested closeness, and admiration. he’d fucking crush plinth’s skull if he could. how dare he lay a finger on his girl.

coriolanus approaches you two, and sejanus, ever so lovely, offers his friend a smile. you can’t meet the eye of coriolanus, and instead stare at a piece of flotsam on your dress. you hadn’t seen him in weeks, but he’d been the subject of all your dreams. you were however, as per your father’s instructions, being particularly kind to private plinth. something about his parents’ wealth and how you needed to find a suitable man to settle down with.

it wasn’t horrible; in fact, sejanus was very sweet and had good intentions, even though you were itching to be fucked. he had barely so much as kissed you, and when he did it was on the cheek. your thighs burned at night with want, and yet you found yourself thinking only of private snow and the way he had you desperate for more. not that you’d admit it.

‘i see you’ve made a friend in miss hoff,’ coriolanus remarks, a little snide undertone in his voice.

sejanus grins, casting a look of ‘we’re more than friends’ to coriolanus. he’d get him for this, coriolanus thinks. the fucking bastard.

‘yes, private plinth has been very kind to me—he’s offered to take me out to the hob sometime,’ you perk up, seeing the jealousy in snow’s eyes. two can play at that game.

‘oh, no doubt he’s been kind to you. sejanus is well known for his sweet disposition,’ again, that voice laced with jealousy. how pathetic. private snow falling at your fucking feet.

‘quite,’ you retort, a snide look crossing your face.

you’ve had enough of him, and excuse yourself from the boys. sejanus is a little perplexed, sensing some sort of underlying tension, though he assumes it’s because his friend has a rather bad attitude. he’d never in a million years think you were getting ploughed by snow in the barracks. no, a girl like you would never stoop so low.

you begin tramping your way across the gravel path to your house, which is situated within the camp. it’s one of the nicer homes in district twelve, maybe besides that of the mayor’s, though one downside was the constant dawn disturbances of your father’s drills, which made for a very disgruntled you in the mornings. you soon learned to wear ear plugs and shut your blinds.

you made it to the door when you felt somebody coming up behind you. you turn to see snow, glaring at you with his icy eyes—and baring a look similar to that of a stone-faced gargoyle.

‘private snow,’ you address him, feeling his body heat radiating from how close he’s standing.

‘miss hoff,’ he seethes.

you fidget with the keys in your hand, and he notices this, wayching as you attempt to unlock the door from behind. you look foolish, fluttering about like a little bunny, trying to escape his net. it’s pathetic, and you know you’re already ensnared.

‘i don’t like how close you’re getting with private plinth,’ he remarks, stroking your arm in an attempt to feign friendliness.

‘oh, really?’ you inquire, getting the door open finally.

you’re glad your father isn’t home, he would have come out with his rifle and shot private snow for daring to set foot on his doorstep. you slide inside, attempting to shut the door in snow’s face so he can’t bother you, but he’s too swift and you find yourself inside your home with no one but an angry peacekeeper.

‘you can’t get away from me now, bunny,’ he says, pulling you into his arms.

‘please…’ your voice trails off, because you’re unable to find a good reason as to why he should leave. part of you wants him here… part of you is longing for him to just bend you over and fuck you senseless.

‘oh bunny,’ he sighs, shaking his head. ‘you can’t just flirt with another man like that. i didn’t think you were such a whore.’

the insult stings, more so than when he was calling you it in bed. at least then he had good reason to be calling you that. now, you couldn’t help that your father wanted you to let private plinth take you on a few dates. there was no harm in that, you figured. it’s not like coriolanus paid any attention to you after what happened. you thought he’d merely forgotten and had moved on to another girl.

‘private plinth is good to me,’ you remark, feeling your mouth go dry.

his grip on you tightens, fingers hardening their grip n the crook of your elbow. he clenches his jaw in fury, attempting to keep his anger at bay, and yet there’s only so much he can do to stop it from unfurling.

‘oh yeah, how good?’ he taunts. ‘bet he doesn’t fuck you as good as me. or do you just suck him off while he cries out for his ma?’

you raise your brows, quite shocked at his rudeness. you could understand jealousy, but these insults felt so direct. you had been under the impression that they had been friends back in the capitol. now all you saw was a one-sided facade. plinth was too naive to notice that snow was more interested in his pretty trust fund than a genuine friendship.

‘i resent the fact that you think i would be so easy,’ you spit, and he laughs in your face, a ridiculous wolffish grin scampering across his lips.

‘oh, i know you’re easy, bunny,’ he lets go of your arm and gives your ass a squeeze. ‘i know you’re fuckin’ easy because you were begging for my cock the other week.’

your cheeks burn at the memory of him pounding into you in the barracks. you clench your thighs together, attempting to quell the urges. he can see this clearly, the way you’re squirming about, begging yourself not to give into lust. but you can’t help it. he’s just so handsome and his cock is oh so big… who could resist him?

‘please… snow…’ you sigh, aware that his hand is still planted firmly on your ass.

‘come on, bunny. show me your bedroom. i think you need to be taught a lesson,’ he commands, nudging you down the hall.

you lead him to your room, which is decorated with all sorts of girlish paraphernalia. he can’t help but laugh at how innocent it all is, with the pink bows and floral bedspread which is covered with all sorts of stuffed animals. who would’ve thought that a girl like this, so sweet and innocent, would take his cock so well?

‘god, no wonder daddy thinks you’re a little angel,’ he sneers, shoving you down onto your bed.

‘look at this shit…’ he can’t help but touch the knickknacks—little porcelain dollies and painted ladies. ‘of course daddy wouldn’t think you took cock from his peacekeepers when you’ve got little dollies on your nightstand.’

your face is flaming with anger and embarrassment. how dare he scrutinise you in such a manner. you couldn’t help that you were insatiable, or that you were surrounded by such willing and handsome young men. who could’ve expected a pent-up teenage girl to stay a virgin when there were so many toned, and shirtless men roaming the barracks?

you had only slept with two other peacekeepers, one when you were sixteen—he was your first everything, but he mysteriously got shipped off to two to become an officer, leaving you heartbroken. the other one was a while ago, and you’d spent many an evening sneaking into the bunks and having to keep quiet while he spoiled you. somehow your father never found out, and you preferred to keep it that way.

coriolanus towers over you know, two hands placed on your thighs as he looks into your eyes. they’re brimming with fear, and at the same time, want. you want him more than anything in this world, your cunt is throbbing and slick with desire.

‘are you gonna be a good girl for me, bunny?’ he asks, hot breath pressing against your cheek.

you nod, giving into his whims. it’s so hard to resist him when your body is practically dripping with need.

‘gonna show you who you belong to, bunny,’ he murmurs.

coriolanus presses hot kisses down your neck, nipping softly at the skin. you wonder how many bruises he’ll leave this time—last time you were left wearing your mother’s scarf for weeks until the hickeys had yellowed. you toss your head back, body waiting to surrender itself to him.

‘so fuckin’ needy,’ he says, pulling away from your neck, hands still firmly planted on your thighs.

you mewl, bucking your hips forward with want. your panties are completely soaked, and you want nothing more than to touch yourself, but you don’t want to find out what he’ll do if you dare to start rubbing at your sensitive spot.

‘please,’ you gasp, rubbing your thighs together, completely ravenous and desperate for his cock.

coriolanus removes his hands from your thighs, and sinks down to his knees, prying your legs apart. one hand creeps up the smooth expanse of your thigh, edging towards its apex. your heart thrums in anticipation.

‘i never want to see you talking to sejanus again,’ he spits, finger reaching inside your soaked panties. ‘i can’t believe you thought you could get away with it—fuckin’ whore. i bet you want his cock in you, huh? did you let him fuck you? bet he wasn’t even any good. his dick is tiny.’

his taunts are personal and deeply rooted. you can see the disgust in his eyes, glistening with revile at the thought of his so-called friend. poor sejanus, he didn’t deserve any of this.

you are left at a loss for words as he slides a finger inside your cunt, feeling the wetness of your folds. you’re aching for him, and let out a cry as he touches you.

‘so wet…’ he muses. ‘and all for me.’

he slips another finger inside and you clench the sheets between your hands, rutting your hips a little to increase the friction.

he uses his free hand to slap you clean across the face, and you gasp, the imprint of his slap stinging your cheek. any other man would’ve warranted a slap in return, but you remained still, watching him in wide-eyed awe.

‘don’t fucking move. i’m going to teach you a little lesson in obedience. do you understand, bunny?’ he asks, brow cocked in expectation.

‘yes sir,’ you murmur, eyes fluttering shut. you’re too bent on your own pleasure to argue.

he bows his head and nestles it between your thighs, lips trailing along the warm skin of your inner thigh. he takes his time, sucking and biting his way up the apex, all the while his fingers are slipping in and out of your wet hole. your clit throbs, suffering from a lack of attention, and you let out a desperate whine in the hopes that he’ll hurry up.

‘mhm,’ you gasp as you feel him lick your wet folds.

his tongue is deft in its ministrations—he licks around the glossy folds, coating them in his saliva, and then parts your lips to find your clitoris, which is inflamed with the desire to be touched.

his lips circle around it, and he begins to suck, causing you to let out a breathless sigh. the friction of his tongue and his fingers makes your cunt clench and body hum with pleasure. you root one hand in the short strands of his hair, lamenting that it isn’t long enough to pull, but nonetheless you clutch at him as he continues to lave his tongue over your sensitive bud.

‘so good,’ you murmur, toes curling with delight.

it doesn’t take long for your body to start tingling with arousal, his tongue is so careful in its ministrations that you’re left gasping for air. he eats you like you’re his last meal.

your walls are pulsing with desire as you feel yourself unfurl, his lips sucking at your clit. your heart is racing, and you feel the slickness gushing out of your wet hole. he moves his tongue down to lap it up, savouring the sweetness of your slick.

‘oh…’ you sigh, lips tingling with the pleasant sensations of your orgasm.

coriolanus doesn’t leave much time for your respite, though, and in your post-coital state, he grabs your hips roughly and turns you over, ass facing him.

‘i’m so fuckin’ hard,’ he groans, palming the bulge through his trousers.

you’re still wet, and when he pulls his cock out of his pants, he presses the tip hotly against your hole. you let out a gasp, wiggling back in an attempt to coax him in further, but he slaps your ass.

‘oh bunny,’ he laughs. ‘you’re not being very good now, are you?’

you shake your head. you can’t help it, you want nothing more than him filling you up, stretching you out with his big cock.

he grasps your hips and guides himself into your hole, sheathing himself fully inside of you. you let out a moan—he’s so fucking big that it hurts. but you like how roughly he handles you, how he treats you like you’re nothing more than a fuckdoll for his pleasure.

‘so fuckin’ tight,’ he grunts as he bucks into your tight cunt.

you grind your hips a little, feeling your cunt taking him in, walls expanding around his cock. he’s gripping so hard at your hips that you can feel little bruises forming—a reminder of who you belong to.

‘bet sejanus couldn’t fuck you this well,’ he scowls as he pounds your hole. ‘probably can’t even make you cum.’

you mewl as you feel his cock press against your most sensitive spot, causing a wave of pleasure to wash over you.

‘is that right, bunny?’ he reaches down to grab a fistful of your hair, yanking you up to meet his face. his breath is hot with frustration. he can’t believe you dared to flirt with fucking sejanus of all people.

‘y-yes,’ you stutter out, unable to form words without your teeth clashing together with the way he’s pounding your cunt.

he pulls himself entirely out, still clutching your hair. your scalp tingles as the strands are tugged away from it. coriolanus rams his cock back into you, causing you to cry out in a mottle of pain and pleasure.

‘don’t fucking stutter!’ he spits. ‘can’t even take a simple order. you’re so fucking stupid.’

you gasp as he pistons his cock out of your hole roughly, seemingly not having a care for how you feel. it does make your body dance with warmth—you like being punished, going out of your way, in fact, to displease him.

‘i’m sorry,’ you murmur, clutching desperately at your bedsheets.

‘i’m sorry what?’ he asks, mouth pressed flush against your ear.

he slaps your ass again, this time harder, causing your knees to buckle. how pathetic. you can’t even take a hit.

‘i’m sorry, sir,’ you manage to muster up.

‘good girl, bunny,’ he grins, and lets go of your hair.

his cock is throbbing from the way you begin to clench around him, body surrendering itself once again to pleasure. you don’t know how he does it—in fact, you’ve never finished like this before. his tip is pressing flush against your g spot, and your legs begin to tremble as you feel yourself unfurl.

‘so good,’ you gasp out, lips pressing together in satisfaction.

it only takes him a few more thrusts to finish—and he’s not gentle with them, pounding you like the little whore you are. you can’t help but pant and gasp as he fills your tight hole with hot, sticky spurts of cum.

‘you’re so good to me, bunny,’ he pulls out of you, cock dripping.

he watches as his cum dribbles out of your hole, and moves to press himself back in. you both sigh at the overstimulation—you more so, you can barely take it, it’s too much for you.

‘coryo…’ you pant. ‘please, no more.’

‘oh bunny,’ he clucks his tongue. ‘i don’t think you get much of a say in that…’

he laughs, pleasure coursing through his veins as he pushes his cum further back up into you. you’re all his. how dare you think you can just betray him for sejanus—nobody else can have you now, not when his hot sticky load is filling you up.

‘such a little whore,’ he groans, rubbing a hand over your ass.

you feel him pull out, finally, and he sits down next to you on your bed. you’re still exposed, and he takes advantage of this, rubbing his hands over your thighs. you squirm, still throbbing from excess stimulation, and he only laughs in reply.

‘what would your daddy do if he knew you were taking peacekeeper cock in his house?’ he teases, watching as you attempt to pull your panties back up.

‘but he won’t know,’ you sigh, not wanting to fret too much.

coriolanus chuckles a little, glancing out the window. he can see your father heading up the path, disgruntled look drawn upon his features.

‘you’re about to find out,’ he remarks, and you shoot up, making your way over to the window.

your heart pounds in your chest, hands trembling as you attempt to figure out how you’re going to cover this one up. you can’t believe coriolanus is laughing—it won’t be funny if your father decides he should be shot.

‘fuck,’ you breathe heavily, attempting to make yourself look presentable.

‘he won’t be happy,’ you tell him, opening your bedroom door and forcing him out in the hopes that it will appear as if he was just paying you a visit.

‘and who’s fault is that?’ he cocks a brow, standing now in the hall.

you shut your bedroom door behind you, still able to hear the crunch of your father’s feet on the gravel. you had about two minutes to come up with a lie—not that you were sure that coriolanus would go along with it.

‘it’s not funny at all, coryo,’ you say in a hushed tone. ‘he won’t hesitate to shoot you.’

you usher him into the living room, and fix your dress—half of it had been caught in your panties. he’s watching you with hungry eyes, not failing to see that the situation was far from humorous.

‘what are you going to tell him?’ he asks, wrapping an arm around your waist. ‘that you were receiving a peacekeeper in his home?’

you scoff at the innuendo, not having time for crassness. you can’t let your father find out. it would be the end for both of you—he wouldn’t know how to take it if his darling daughter was in the arms of one of his men—especially private snow. perhaps he would’ve taken it better if you’d gone to the hob with sejanus—at least that relationship was of mutual benefit.

‘don’t you dare say that,’ you gasp, shaking your head at the thought of your father hearing the words come out of coriolanus’ mouth.

‘don’t you think he should know that his daughter is a little whore?’ he says snidely, and you shove him, eyes blazing with fury.

‘please,’ you beg him, watching as he laughs cruelly.

you can see your father at the door now, and you distance yourself, attempting to keep up the appearance that it was just a visit, nothing more.

when he enters, you can see a look of confusion cross his face. a peacekeeper, in his home, with his daughter, and not private plinth at that? you watch as he goes to rest his hand on the holster of his gun.

‘to what do we owe a visit from private snow?’ he inquires, looking you two up and down suspiciously.

‘oh it’s nothing, daddy,’ you say before coriolanus can speak. you keep a watchful eye on his movements, but surprisingly he is completely still before his commander.

‘nothing?’ he inquires, slight anger in his tone. ‘what does he have to say to you that he can’t say in front of me? you know my rules about this.’

your lip quivers, but you can’t show your guilt. you have to pretend as if he is there for good reason—not that he practically chased you into the house to fuck you.

‘daddy i promise, private snow was only coming to speak to you,’ you bite your lip nervously, hoping coriolanus will say something sensible to vouch for you.

your father glances at coriolanus, who is standing tall, towering over him, and yet he does not appear to have all the authority, you can tell he thinks it. your father is only district, after all. he really had more power than the both of you, being capitol and the son of general crassus snow. not that he wanted to incur the wrath of a commander when he was only a mere peacekeeper in 12—something which he resented.

‘your daughter is right, commander hoff,’ coriolanus says cooley ‘i came to report an incident to you.’

your father nods, and you feel a wave of relief wash over your body. he seems to believe it, for he’s not looking at you with much suspicion anymore. you want to thank coriolanus—it’s the kindest thing he’s done for you, and that itself stings, but you’re too cock-drunk to fret too much over it.

‘you must excuse us, sweetheart,’ your father says, signalling for you to leave them.

your heart pounds in your chest as you turn away, now left to fret over whether or not coriolanus is going to betray you to your father. you can only hope that his egoism doesn’t get the best of him.

[olddirtybadfic]

Brotherly Love: The Musical (Part five of seven)

Behold, teen!me's definition of "zany, happy, wacky."

Part one | Part two | Part three | Part four

DEAD GOODFEATHERS DO NOT LICK

Content Warning: Consensual romantic relationship between two siblings; mpreg; aged-up characters; questionable knowledge of psychology; usage of mid-noughties slang that aged like milk (which Yakko will not be drinking); very off-color jokes; oh dear gods an author avatar and her avatar’s furry friend; attempts at song parodies; author’s notes to give track listings; attempt at writing Scratchansniff’s accent out phonetically; big emotions, including: *extremely Gonzo voice* GUILT and *extremely Septa Unella voice* SHAME SHAME SHAME (ding ding); animane-y, totally insane-y, Dot is slut-shame-y

-O-o-O-o-O-

Yakko lay in bed after their appointment with Scratchy.

Sleep wouldn’t come easily to him now that he’d gotten washed up and dressed already. However, if Wakko was up to it, he could easily take care of the later….

“Stop it, Yakko,” he told himself. “Your brother is in the bathroom, puking his guts out and all you can think about is sex.”

He would go in the bathroom and comfort Wakko—except Wakko had told him not to come in the bathroom yet. What he could be doing in there was beyond Yakko, but Yakko wasn’t about to disrespect Wakko’s privacy.

Plus, the sight of Wakko throwing up was not exactly something one would want to see less than two hours after breakfast.

So Yakko lay in his bunk, staring at the bottom of Dot’s empty bunk. “I wonder how a picture of Wakko would look taped there.”

In the bathroom, Wakko was staring at a little plastic stick with a pink screen.

“Well this ain’t faboo, is it?” he thought, tossing the box into the trash. “Dot’s not going to like this.”

He looked out the door, down the hall towards the bedroom. “I don’t even know if I should tell Yakko.”

Wakko stuck his head back in the door. “That’s stupid. Of course I should tell him. It’s his. Unless something happened that one night I sleepwalked. I never did remember why I ended up naked in Plotz’s office. Definitely nothing happened, though, since he wasn’t very happy to see me there.”

In the bedroom, Yakko chastised himself once again after he was able to find similarities between the way Wakko moved when climaxing and when vomiting.

“That’s absolutely disgusting! Why can’t I just be a normal pervert and stare at people naked in the shower?”

He sighed when he gazed up at the newly taped picture of Wakko on the bottom of Dot’s bunk.

“There’s no point in fighting it,” he thought, tracing the outline of Wakko’s face with his finger. “If loving you is wrong, then being right is sorely overrated.”

Yakko sat up. “That incredibly clichéd line sounds like a lead-in for a song.”

A dark room slowly came into view as the music from the synthesizer filled the air. A single spotlight shone on a mirrored cross in the middle of the room.

As the music played into the first verse, the cross rotated to reveal Yakko, duct taped to the front, as he began to sing. (Author's Note: to the tune of "Live to Tell" by Madonna)

“I have a tale to tell.”

He suddenly glanced at his arm and saw a hickey from two nights ago.

“Sometimes it gets so hard to hide it well.” He smiled sheepishly.

“I was not ready for the fall.”

The duct tape gave out and Yakko fell off the cross and landed on his face. He got up, brushed himself off and continued singing.

“Why couldn’t I just get a blow-up doll?”

A blow-up doll of Bugs Bunny fell at Yakko’s feet. He sighed and popped it. It flew around the room, landing draped over the cross.

“I don’t care if it is unwise Or if I go to hell; Hope I live to tell if things will turn out right, Because….the suspense is killing me!”

Yakko dramatically did a fainting gesture in front of the cross. A few yards away, Wakko sat on a toilet in the middle of the room, illuminated by a second spotlight. He spun the little plastic stick on a gloved finger as he sang:

“The test was positive. Don’t need Maury, I know who the dad is.”

Wakko put another finger on top of the stick to stop its spinning. The stick stopped, pointing to Yakko, who was still in the dramatic “fainted” pose. Wakko continued to sing:

“The light that Dot will never see, It shines in him, in fact, it’s blinding me.”

The spotlight shone directly on the mirrored cross, casting the glare directly into Wakko’s eyes. He continued singing while groping around, blinded.

“We couldn’t hide from Dot’s sharp eyes So I’ll just say ‘Oh well.’ Hope I live to tell if things will turn out right Because….This light is burning me!”

Wakko ran around on fire until he remembered to stop, drop, and roll. Once extinguished, he rolled over on top of Yakko, who woke up from his pose to sing:

“The plot, it seems so far behind. This story’s gone to hell. Could somebody tell me if the plot will bend Because….this song should really end.”

The spotlight turned off as Yakko finished singing.

“Did the studio forget to pay the light bill again?”

-O-o-O-

Yakko and Wakko were sitting on Yakko’s bunk, staring at the oh-so-unfaboo plastic stick.

“So….yeah,” was all Yakko could say.

“Yeah.” Wakko responded.

Yakko scratched his head. “How did this happen, anyway?”

“Well, when two people love each other—”

“Not that way,” Yakko said. “I mean, how did you get pregnant if you’re a boy?”

“You know how there’s cartoon physics?”

“Yeah?”

“It was cartoon biology.”

“Oh.” Yakko wondered where the heck he was when Wakko learned this. More importantly, where did he get the pregnancy test from?

“Where’d you find that thing, anyway?”

“It came out of my gag bag.”

The brothers continued to stare at the stick.

“Shouldn’t we do something other than just staring at this stick?” Yakko said.

“Like what?” Wakko asked.

“Like, telling Dot?”

“She’s not going to like it.”

“Well, she doesn’t like going to the dentist and we make her do that anyway. She’ll find out about it sooner or later, it might as well be sooner.”

“What if she decides to stay away from us? Or run even farther away?” Wakko asked fearfully.

“I doubt she’d do that. We’re her brothers. We’ve never been apart for longer than a week; we practically need each other. And besides,” Yakko continued, “even if she does leave, we’ll still have each other.”

“That’s sweet. Unbelievably clichéd, but sweet.”

“I think it’s time for another song.”

A whimsical tune set to the beat of a waltz played on a synthesizer. Around the brothers, the scene changed from the bedroom to a meadow of bright green grass and day-glo flowers. The sky shone a technicolor blue.

In the middle of the field, there was a brightly-colored structure that looked like a carousel, but was really a funhouse.

Yakko now wore an electric blue tunic with his khaki slacks. A laser necklace sat on his head like a halo, and glow sticks dangled from his shirt and pants. Wakko still wore his red cap, but instead of his blue sweatshirt, he wore a day-glo violet tunic. (Author's Note: to the tune of "Witch in the Ditch" by Erasure)

Yakko began skipping backwards in the direction of the funhouse as he sang:

“No, I could never Give up on the fight Just because Dot is being a hater. We’re looking and searching For a place we can love in Why am I dressed like a raver?”

Yakko shrugged it off, then knelt down in front of Wakko, continuing:

“But it was you, bruder, that turned my world around. Yes, it was you, mein lieb, with whom I have laid down.”

The music reached its crescendo as Yakko jumped up and began to dance wildly around singing:

“Rules were meant to be forgotten, Broken and laid down to die. Man, that line sounded so trite. Oh, to you I will be faithful, Cross my heart and hope to die. What’s up with the neon lights?”

Yakko and Wakko were now standing in the funhouse. Neon signs lit the dark area, along with lava lamps, strobe lights, and glow sticks. They looked around at the display that was sure to blind someone, then shrugged as Wakko began singing:

“We dropped our britches Then Dot had to ditch us For Hello Nurse, what a surprise. But I love you still For your wit and your will And not just for your great ‘shoe’ size.”

Yakko blushed with a humongous cheesy grin on his face as Wakko pressed himself against him and sang:

“Yes, it is you, mein herr, that makes me less unsound.”

Both Yakko and Wakko sang as they danced around a strobe-light maypole:

“Rules were meant to be forgotten. The author has got to be high. Let’s frolic through the strobe lights. Who cares if we aren’t ravers? Let’s not even wonder why What’s up with all the strobe lights?”

Wakko pulled Yakko closer and sang:

“Wanna go at it tonight?”

Yakko nodded vigorously. All the lights shut off.

-O-o-O-

The next morning, Yakko and Wakko lay in each other’s arms, blissful from the events of the previous night. They were getting better at doing their thing—at least it seemed better. They were certainly louder, what with Yakko yelling that he’d entered the “Valley of Light” and Wakko so far into a climax, he started talking backwards.

Of course, there was the nipple-honking as well.

Yakko looked over at the clock. It was about 10:30 AM, which meant their appointment with Scratchy was in about an hour. Originally, it would have been the next day, but Wakko decided that Dot needed to know about her future niece or nephew sooner. Yakko willingly rescheduled the appointment, wanting to quickly get things resolved.

When they arrived at Scratchy’s office, Dot was already there. She sat on the couch, arms crossed. Though she looked a lot less angry than she had a couple days ago, Yakko still thought they should approach with caution.

Yakko and Wakko took their places on the couch next to Dot. Dot shot a dirty look at Wakko, who, still sore from their argument, temporarily turned into a magic mirror and reflected the look right back (but with his face instead of Dot’s).

Dot gave a dirtier look, shattering the mirror and turning Wakko back to normal.

Wakko stuck his tongue out.

Dot made an akanbe face at Wakko.

Wakko stuck his tongue out and turned his eyes into spirals.

Dot flipped Wakko the arm.

Wakko flipped Dot the bird. The Goodfeathers were scandalized.

“Hey, we’re making progress already! They’re communicating through hand gestures!” Yakko exclaimed. “Now if only they’d use their words.”

Currently, Wakko and Dot were flipping each other off, while flipping their own bodies, in a contest to see who could raise their middle finger higher. Dot started doing the Cabbage Patch with both her middle fingers raised. Wakko did the Bogle with his own two middle fingers.

“How are they doing that with only four fingers?” Yakko wondered aloud.

“Zhat is quite enough,” Scratchy commanded gently. “Now, Dot, please tell your brozers vhy you are so angry vith zhem.”

“I’m mad at them because they’re shacking up with each other, duh!” Dot rolled her eyes.

“Dot, does it really make you zhat angry?” Scratchy prompted.

“Of course it does! They’re brothers! That’s totally gross!” Dot made a face (not at Wakko this time).

“But Vakko has done gross things in zhe past und it has not angered you so.”

“Yeah, well….This is different,” Dot tried to explain.

“How so?”

“Well….They were having sex! And….Did either of you really even know what you were doing?”

“Did we ever,” Yakko beamed. Wakko’s heavy-lidded, blissed-out expression was his answer.

“See how they’re acting, Scratchy? They’re just blatantly throwing it around like Wakko’s underwear!”

“Hey, I resent that!” Wakko yelled. “I don’t even wear underwear!”

“And there it is again! Just no shame whatsoever!”

Yakko then realized that he’d barely said anything the entire appointment. He decided he’d better remedy that.

“Oh, we have plenty of shame. And it’s all towards how you’re behaving right now!” Yakko responded. “You’re supposed to talk to us like a normal person, not shout and hurl insults!” Yakko noticed Wakko sitting quietly on the couch next to him. He leaned in close and whispered, “This is your cue to defend yourself against her calling you a whore.”

“I’m not going to,” Wakko stated simply. Both Dot and Yakko stared shocked, as did Scratchy.

“You’re right, Dot. I have no shame. I love my brother and I want to make sweet, hot love to him every day. In fact, I want him in me right now. And if that makes me a dirty whore, then fine.”

Scratchy was utterly speechless. He’d never heard such language from Wakko, especially not directed at Dot.

“And I have no problem with the fact that I’m pregnant with his child,” Wakko continued casually, as Dot’s jaw dropped further. “That’s right—I’m knocked up and it’s Yakko’s.”

Dot continued to star in horror. Scratchy followed suit. Yakko sat back and watched the show.

The office went dark and a single spotlight shone on Wakko, who was now wearing a black shiny leotard, not unlike one Madonna had worn in a certain music video. Scratchy, Dot, and Yakko watched in horror (or in Yakko’s case, amusement) as the music began and Wakko sang:

(Author's Note: to the tune of "Papa Don't Preach" by Madonna)

“Dot, I know that you’re already upset, Because I’m always acting gross. But you should know by now, That’s just how I am. You think that this whole thing is wrong. Well, I don’t care my love is way too strong. I may be young at heart But I know what I’m saying. Our brother knows how to turn me on. We’ve been making love while you were gone. We really can’t help ourselves, And I don’t mean maybe. So please…. Dottie, don’t freak; He makes my heart scream. Dottie, don’t freak; He is my wet dream And I’ve made up my mind, I’m keeping my baby, yeah.”

By the time the music ended, Dot had unhinged her jaw like a snake. Scratchy, who had gotten over the initial shock, asked Yakko, “I zhought she did not like to be called ‘Dottie.’”

“Well, judging from her reaction, I don’t think she cared,” Yakko answered, waving a hand in front of Dot’s face.

-O-o-O-

“This ending sucks, and you’re to blame. You’re giving fic a bad name,” Hrothella critiqued. “Try again.”

Fae balled up the pieces of paper and started over. “I guess that don’t impress her much.”

-O-o-O-o-O-

And the moral of today’s story is: When you can't talk it out, sing about it instead.

[m-ilkiee]

Monsters: Manjiro "Mikey" Sano x Reader x Izana Kurokawa

“He ate my heart”

Pairings: Manjiro ‘Mikey’ Sano x female reader, Izana Kurokawa x female reader

Series summary: Your grievous sin was Emma standing up for you to her brothers. And now you’re going to pay the heavy price for destroying their perfect family dynamic.

Content warning generally: DARK CONTENT, Tokyo revengers AU, female reader, virgin reader, heavy smut, polyamory, Dark Impulse Mikey, Manipulative Izana, inaccurate/inconsistent university terminology, heavy angst with little comfort, betrayal, misogyny and sexism, emotional, physical and mental abuse, mental break, manipulation, gaslighting, sexual harrassment, dubious consent, noncon, drug, alcohol and substance misuse/abuse, extreme violence, use of weapons, Torture, criminal activities, PTSD, paranoia, emotional incest, power imbalance, character death(s) (not reader), anal penetration, mention of self-harm, religious guilt and trauma, religious themes, Vouyeurism, gangbang, masochism, sadism, hard kinks, strangulation (non sexual), psychological horror (more warnings to be added soon)

main masterlist||taglist link||playlist

Chapter 1: Warning Signals

chapter summary: Being friends with Emma Sano is nice, until you get on the wrong side of the Sano brothers.

cw: DARK CONTENT, NSFW, misogyny, alcohol/drug use, brief mention of violence, religious and purity culture themes, classism, slutshaming, p*rn mention, sexual assault, noncon, public initimacy, fingering (fem recieving), dacryphilia, gaslighting, manipulation, mention of vomitting, victim blaming.

wc: 10.1k

Chapter 2: Shots Fired

chapter summary: Izana Kurokawa demands your attention and he doesn’t take no for an answer. Not even when his demands are outrageous.

cw: DARK CONTENT, MISOGYNY, NSFW, r*pe mention, depictions of PTSD and CPTSD, emotional incest, incestuous assault (NOT THE SANOS), abandoment issues, violence, revenge porn, depression, filming without consent, drugging, domestic (physical and sexual) abuse, victim blaming, blackmailing, depictions of rape culture, manipulation, gaslighting, noncon, dry humping, mind break, psychological and sexual torture, use of firearms, attempted su*cides

wc: 11.6k

Chapter 3: The Lesser of Two Devils

chapter summary: Emma has a suspicion that both her brothers are into you when you all go shopping. She couldn’t be farther from the truth.

cw: coming soon

wc:

Chapter 4: The Calm

chapter summary: After your college professor tries to harass you for grades, you turn to the oldest Sano for help. But nothing comes for free, not even for Emma’s sweet friend.

cw: coming soon

wc:

Chapter 5: Act on Dark Impulses

chapter summary: You knew better than to trust Mikey and Izana. Yet you fall for their plan hook, line and sinker and live through the worst night of your life.

cw: coming soon

wc:

Chapter 6: The Closest you’ll ever get to being in Love

chapter summary: Things get sicker and twisted with the two brothers and Emma is none the wiser.

cw: coming soon

wc:

Chapter 7: Trials and Tribulations

chapter summary: You learn the hard way what happens when you refuse to be their stress relief because of your important exams.

cw: coming soon

wc:

Chapter 8: Divine Intervention

chapter summary: You are called home to bury your mother and learn that nothing has changed since you left.

cw: coming soon

wc:

Chapter 9: Lead me not into Temptation

chapter summary: Emma notices that something isn’t right with you when you come visit her in the Sano residence.

cw: coming soon

wc:

Chapter 10: Deliver Me from All Evil

chapter summary: You’ve finally broken the cycle, but at what cost?

cw: coming soon

wc:

authors notes: updates are irregular, depending on when i have time. some chapters have been re-written to fit the original storyline. don't pressure me to update and please don't be rude to me. I do not condone any negative actions done on this fic. comments, reblogs and asks are very much appreciated. if you are a minor, please refrain from interracting with this series.

taglist (please turn on your mentions in 'settings' before filling the form.): @officiallyjaehyuns @haikyuusboringassmanager @ilybbg @merrymerrykiss @cockonoi @Rindou24689 @short-cxke @kokoch4n3l @GenAwi @ryuguji-sana @nuyoo @getonite @anxious-chick @reiners-milkbiddies @kiwixpi @gh0stgirl333 @brisssaaa009 @fushiqruo @kawaiikoalagarden @damidamimongalam @raven-nevra

[mlmmetalhead]

Rip my ribcage open, devour what's truly yours

Ethan Landry x Male reader

CW: nsfw, murder of an original female character, emetophobia, slutshaming? kinda?; mentions of straight sex, the reader is attracted to men and women, Ethan is gay, cowboy position, top reader, from sub to power bottom Ethan, evil fucked up Ethan, jealousy, possession kink, a REALLY unhealthy obsession, blood kink, biting.

MINORS + FEM ALIGNED DNI

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

The music was booming, Ethan's ears rang and the lighting was dazzling. People's bodies around him smelled of sweat and alcohol, and his head felt like it would crack open. Then a wave of nausea hit him, and he felt the contents of his stomach creeping up his throat. Ethan's hand shot up to his mouth as he tried to search for Chad or Y/n in the crowd of unfamiliar people. But he couldn't - it was as if his friends have dissolved into thin air. He pushed through the wall of people to the stairs, climbing them as fast as he could. Luckily, there weren't as many people as there were downstairs. Ethan darted around searching for a bathroom when he stumbled on a door at the end of the corridor that looked like it might be a bathroom.

Without thinking, Ethan pushed through the door to what he thought would be a bathroom only to be met with a sight of a bedroom with dim lights. The bed was occupied by a naked girl with one of the guys Ethan searched for on top of her. His heart dropped as Y/n jolted back up, locking eyes with Landry. Ethan didn't know why he felt like this, why he felt his hands tensing up around the door handle and his teeth gritted. But he didn't have a chance to think about it more before he threw up on the clothes scattered on the floor.

"Shit, Ethan!" Y/n screamed as he bounced right back on his feet, still half naked. The girl made a loud sound of disgust as L/n helped his friend not to literally pass out right there. He wrapped his hands around Ethan's torso, and the latter thought he could throw up a second time at the thought of those same hands being on this girl's body just a second ago. Landry still felt a disgusting feeling pooling in his stomach as he made eye contact with the naked girl on the bed. He made sure to memorize every single feature of her dirty little face he grew to hate in bare seconds. He tried to pull a shit eating grin, clawing on his friend's shoulders, but it fell flat as he closed his eyes, too tired to really function.

Chad later told him, that Y/n went out the room, with no shirt on and his belt unbuckled, carrying unconscious Ethan in his hands. He took his shirt with him and drove the passed out guy to their dorm. Before he drove off, the girl he tried to hook up with, Chloe, a theater major, made a whole scene and slapped Y/n across the face. Apparently, it was mainly her clothes Ethan threw up all over, which honestly, he was delighted to learn. Through the course of next week, Landry made it his priority learning more about that bitch L/n was with. He didn't know why, not really, but every time he thought about Y/n being with her that night, he felt like destroying something.

It wasn't hard finding her on social media, especially since Quinn agreed to help her dear brother. Her Tinder account was especially disgusting. It's definitely for the best Y/n didn't sleep with her, with the amount of guys she hooks up with, no wonder she probably has STDS. Hacking her account was easy, of course someone as dumb as her would make all of their account passwords the same. From then on, when she agreed to a date with some random dude, Ethan just logged into her account and told the guy something along the lines of 'family business', just ten minutes before the set time. It's too bad Chloe was already on the agreed spot.

It was a seemingly peaceful evening on a busy street. Chloe was waiting for her Tinder date forever, beginning to think of the possibility of being stood up. Suddenly, her phone rang, and the display showed an unknown number, but she didn't remember sharing her phone with this guy. But with no better options, she accepted it.

"Hello?"

"Hello, is this Chloe?", there was a certain impatience with how the voice sounded.

"Yes, and are you... Jason, by any chance?"

"Yeah, yeah! I'm really sorry for running late it's uh... I'm not familiar with this part of town."

"It's fine, I get that", Chloe giggled. She really liked the guy's voice, "Can you see... A park? Or maybe someone walking their dog, there's a dog play area here."

The question was followed by silence, but just when Chloe began to feel uneasy, the voice on the other side broke through again: "Yes, there is someone walking their dog, but I don't see a park... Wait, they're walking towards and alley, is there an alley nearby?"

She looked around and spotted a dark alleyway a couple of meters away from her, "Yes! Yes, are you going in?"

"I am! Oh, that's just great, I was worried I was lost."

Chloe hurriedly walked towards the alley, which, admittedly, was a bit creepy, with no one around and the dark sky above. Walking in, she stopped around the center of it, her eyes searching for the cute guy she met on tinder, or at least, the person with their dog he mentioned. But no one showed up. "Are you sure you're on the right address?" Her voice sounded a bit anxious.

"I don't know... Am I, Chloe?" the girl shuddered at the words, a dreadful sense of uneasiness crawling up her back.

"Sorry?"

"Oh, you better be. Say, do you like scary movies?" Chloe felt panic rising in her stomach, as her eyes frantically darted around the alley.

"N-no, not really my thing... Are you there already?!"

"Oh, then it's no wonder. No wonder you were so stupid, to walk into an empty alley in the cover of the night."

Before Chloe got the chance to answer, she felt a gloved hand grab her mouth, and a sharp blade piercing her back. She tried to scream, but the next place the blade struck was her throat, leaving her a babbling mess, blood pouring out of her barely open mouth. As misery and fear that of a dying rabbit struck her, tears streamed down her face. Oh, how Ethan loved it. He drove his blade into her quickly collapsing body, hoping to reach into her fading soul. He hoped it hurt. Hoped it hurt just as much it hurt him to see her take what belonged to him. Every time her flesh ripped, he couldn't help but imagine himself in her place that night, covered in her blood as Y/n took him and made them one.

By the time Landry was done with her, she was almost unrecognizable. He was covered in blood from head to toe. Such a pity she couldn't see his face behind that ghostface mask, maybe she'd even recognize him. Maybe she'd remember how he smiled at her when his Y/n discarded her as a toy the second he, his dear Ethan felt bad.

It didn't take too long for the murder to appear on the news. Ethan couldn't help but smile when the cops said they didn't have any leads. It was presumed to be connected to the ghostface murders, with a similar hit-and-run way of attacking, but no masks were found at the scene. Either way, it was someone from their college, someone they knew. So it was no wonder Ethan showed up at Y/n's door on the same evening the news broke out. He looked like a kicked puppy, especially with the rain that poured outside, his hair and sweater were wet, and his eyes pleading with his friend for shelter.

"What happened?", his sweet, sweet voice made Ethan so excited.

"I'm scared, Y/n... Can I please stay with you for some time? Chad's with his friends and I don't want to be alone..."

L/n's face was full of concern when he let Landry through the door of his room. Ethan inhaled the air filled with his favorite scent and smiled to himself before turning around with the same sad expression on his face.

"Shit, you're drenched... Here, I'll get you a spare shirt and pants if you want." Y/n looked at his friend, stretching his hand out. Only a couple seconds after it occurred to Ethan what he was stretching his arm for, and bit his lip in an attempt to hide his excitement before pulling the sweater off his body, followed by his pants. His beloved made an attempt to cover his eyes, to which Landry mumbled: "It's fine... You can look." Ethan held eye contact with Y/n as he revealed himself to him, hoping his friend wouldn't notice the half-hard-on in his boxers.

His bed was so soft, especially with his old clothes on, practically surrounded by things that reminded Landry of him. Some movie Ethan wasn't really paying attention to was playing on the TV, the h/c guy layed beside him, his hands wrapped around Ethan's torso, gently caressing the burning skin. Landry didn't know how much longer he could hold himself from pouncing right on top of Y/n, as unconventional memories of Chloe's ripping flesh began to crawl in-between his soft thighs.

"Y'know, it's really great to have you here." Ethan tore his gaze off of the TV screen, intently watching Y/n's features, "I was... I'm really scared too. I knew Chloe, y'know? When I heard the news I thought... Y'know, it's stupid, it was over a week after that but... I thought if I haven't just left her at that party maybe things would've been... Different."

Ethan felt his jaw tensing again, as his brows furrowed. That familiar sense of blood boiling in his veins and a sharp feel of anger piercing at his heart. He gutted that fucking bitch so Y/n would give all the attention to him, not that he would talk about her useless dead ass, especially when they're supposed to be hanging out together!

"You alright?" L/n asked, worry clearly painted on his face. Was Ethan so mad it showed on his face?

"Yeah. It's fine."

"No, something's wrong, I can see it. Talk to me, dude. I want to be able to help." With those words, the guy took Landry's hands in his own, slightly caressing his palms. Ethan's breathing got stuck in his throat when he tried to make eye contact with the object of his admiration. "I-it's nothing. It's stupid."

"If it's bothering you, then it's clearly not stupid. You know, everyone's on the edge right now. You can tell me if something... Or someone, is bothering you." Ethan raised his eyes, locking with the e/c ones. He opened his dry mouth and whispered, barely audible:

"Can you kiss me?"

Y/n stayed still for a moment, his expression blank. Ethan felt his heart sink. Was he too selfish in his attempts of conquering the man's attention and heart, that he hadn't even considered the possibility of it being not mutual? And then he heard the hushed response, "Yes." Y/n pulled Landry closer to him, and his arms, which had held him a second ago, wrapped around Ethan's shoulders, pressing gently against his stiff body. Ethan, without taking his eyes off the others, leaned forward so that their heads were flush, then kissed L/n lightly. The kiss was sweet, tender, and very gradual, fully consistent with the sensations that Ethan had been waiting to experience. Y/n's movements seemed slow and sleepy, Landry's were sharp and impetuous, but they were just as harmonious and complete. When they separated, Ethan's lips were red and wet, his eyes looking at what he had desired for so long with desperation.

"Y/n..." he uttered, slowly breathing, as if in a state of trance. "Take me, please?"

L/n was hesitant for a second, his hands ghosting around the hem of his own old shirt on Ethan's slender body. "You sure you're okay with this?"

Landry couldn't help but smile, showing a little bit of tooth which, for some unknown reason, made Y/n shudder. "Of course I am. I couldn't tell you how long I've been waiting..."

The cold air of the room hit Ethan's burning skin like a dozen of needles. He made a great effort to let L/n know his hands were more than welcome to explore, all while being completely steady himself, only reveling in the intoxicating sensation of rough human skin again his shamefully exposed body. Occasional silent pleas left his wet lips, which were always obliged by the one he longed for. When the time came for his pants, Landry took them off himself. There was no point in trying to hide the obvious excitement between his legs now, so he presented himself fully to Y/n, admittedly, still being a bit shy about it. L/n was not at all disconcerted by this choice of his partner. It lent a touch of innocence to everything that was going on. His soft skin tasted of salt on Y/n's lips. Ethan bent his legs at the knees and spread them apart. L/n leaned forward, never stopping to stroke Landry's cock through his silky black briefs. Softly, he wrapped his arms around his ass and pulled Ethan to him, and when his knee was between his legs, he felt the force with which Landry squeezed him with his hips. Ethan felt as if his flesh had been struck by lightning. He could hardly restrain a moan. His lover's hands were working magic on his sensitive pink nipples, as his knee was rubbing his erection. This was something else, something new, something he had never before felt. A feeling of escape swept through Ethan's body in a way that he couldn't even begin to explain. It was as if all the obstacles that had held back his flow for so long had vanished, leaving him with what he chased for so long, together with him. Landry let out a low, throaty moan, squeezing Y/n's knee even harder with his thighs. A few more moments passed, and then he spoke up:

"Wait... Can you... Take your shirt off too? I want... Want to see."

Y/n smiled, his hands traveling from Ethan's nipples down to his palms, slowly stroking and while directing them towards the bottom of his own shirt.

"Take it off yourself if you want, baby."

Landry felt his cock twitch in his briefs, a quiet moan leaving him. His heart was racing at the intimacy of the moment when he first saw L/n's bare stomach and a slight line of a happy trail leading him down like a guideline. When his eyes met with his lover's chest, he couldn't help but let a hand slip. It traveled down to the edge of Y/n's pants, stopping at it, before Ethan looked up questioningly at his heart's contents. L/n smiled again and nodded. Only that was needed for Landry to pull the pants down along with the boxers. He felt his hole clench upon looking at the hard member revealed to him.

"Is this...", his voice was breathless, "...because of me?"

His lover only chuckled at that, letting a hand pet Ethan's soft curls. "Of course it's because of you. Who else would it be? It's only for you."

Only for him. Only for him. Oh god, these words made Landry's sick mind make an another twist and a sickly sweet feeling pool in his stomach. His. No one else's. A Cheshire-like grin crawled upon his soft feature's as Ethan touched Y/n's hard cock, not giving it any mercy as his hand sped up, jerking it, spreading around a layer of pre. "Yeah? Tell me more."

L/n shuddered, a sudden feeling that can only be described as what a deer feels being caught by a wolf washed over his body and mind, stunning him for a good minute. He couldn't take his eyes off of Ethan's smirk. His glistening fangs sent a shiver down Y/n's spine.

"I- I'm hard because of you. I've been jerking it to the thought of you... For a while, to be honest."

Landry let our a low guttural sound, that L/n swore sounded like a growl. "I did the same for you." He giggled, speeding his hand up. Y/n moaned at the sensation of the guy's hand on his cock, but it wasn't for too long that he was able to enjoy it. Suddenly, all at once, it stopped. Ethan got his hand off of L/n, instead getting more comfortable climbing onto his lap.

" 'm gonna ride you, okay? Saw it in porn once. You okay with that, sweetie?" Y/n nodded, accepting his role and breathing in the sweet scent of the guy on top of him.

He smelled of blood.

When the tip of his cock brushed over Ethan's hole, L/n found he was already prepped."I've been waiting for this for so long.", Landry half whispered, biting his lip, "Do you know how many times I've touched myself thinking about this? About you? I've never... I'm a virgin, you know? Do you like that, Y/n? Taking my innocence? Fuck, I hope you do.", With those words, he lowered himself on the other man's cock with a loud, high-pitched moan. A sharp bite tearing into the soft skin of a deer. They both moaned as Landry wasted no time to start moving, colliding their bodies in a sensual symphony of sweat and loud breaths.

"Fuck! Feels even better than I imagined! So deep! Do you like this, babe?", Ethan's eyes darted back to L/n's face, seemingly not even searching for an answer, only to drink in the tasteful expression of pleasure on his face. In unison with the sound of the slapping skin, the h/c male loudly moaned a positive response, throwing his head back. He felt Ethan's claws digging into his shoulders as his pace increased. Landry wasn't ashamed anymore, not holding in all and any noises he made, almost like he was making sure all the neighbors knew he was finally claiming what belonged to him. Fuck, he wished he was covered in that whore's blood now. He wished to leave blood marks on Y/n's perfect body as a sign of sacrifice in their sinful ritual as they became one.

Now every breath of air bursting from Ethan's lungs filled his instincts with lust. The animal part in him demanded to sink his teeth into that muscular throat and tear the flesh, leaving a scarlet mark on his skin. Landry imagined the pleasure Y/n would feel crying out in pain. He groaned, trembling at the keen sensation of the unfulfilled. Soon it would happen, and the smell of blood would fill him, soaking his entire body. To delay the moment when he would cum, Ethan slowed his pace. After a few seconds, it worked, a wave of tremors ran through Landry's body. The sweet pain of drawn-out pleasure boiled up in his throat. It was only when it became difficult to restrain himself that he began to move faster. "Mine..." he murmured in a voice hoarse with desire.

"What was that?" L/n asked, barely able to process the world around him with a spinning head, drunk with lust.

"Mine... Mine!" Ethan screamed louder and louder, saliva dripping from his red lips onto the man underneath him. A hungry beast. "Mine! No one else's! And I'm yours! Claim me!" They both got lost in a loud scream of pleasure. Ethan lost his mind, moving up and down at an inhuman pace, feeling his legs stick to his lover from the amount of precum they were covered in. Feeling climax approach, with an animalistic grin plastered onto his face, Ethan jumped forward, biting down on Y/n's shoulder, drawing out a bit of blood. L/n moaned, music for Landry's ears.

"Mine! Mine! Mine! Y/n!" Ethan screamed, darting upwards and stretching his back while his body exploded in a final catharsis. Jumping back down one last time he felt Y/n's seed spilling inside, filling his guts with the ecstatic feeling of being owned.

[r4ins]

Bruce Wayne x Male Reader

cw. bottom bruce x dom male reader

“Y/N, I need you here, right now,” was all Bruce said before he looked at his watch and waited. Bruce hadn’t seen him in any non-League capacity for the past few months, and he was horny enough to want to make the most of this brief twenty-minute reprieve between meetings.

Y/N showed up in a blur of wind in his full hero costume in about two minutes, looking worried.

“B?” He asked, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Bruce answered as he shrugged off his suit coat. “Except I haven’t touched you in nine weeks, five hours, and twenty-three minutes.”

The worry immediately melted off Y/N’s face and was replaced with a smirk. “You missed me that much?”

Instead of responding to that he simply gave Y/N a heated look and said, “Take off the suit and sit on the couch.”

The high points on Y/N’s cheeks brightened but he did as he was told, and, in a blur, he was on the couch in nothing but his underwear looking slightly bemused. Bruce loosened his tie and pulled a tube out of his desk before he stalked over to Y/N like the other was a feast and Bruce had been starving all week.

“You couldn’t wait until you got home?” Y/N asked when Bruce got on his knees and pulled down Y/N’s jockstrap.

“I haven’t had a moment’s peace in ages and I’ve been so horny today, I feel like I’m losing my goddamn mind.” Bruce glanced at his watch before he pulled off his own clothing.

“We have seventeen minutes left, I plan to make the most of it.”

Y/N opened his mouth to be the voice of reason (they hadn’t even locked the door for Rao’s sake!) but what actually came out was a strangled moan when Bruce sucked down most of his cock in one swift motion.

“Holy shit, B,” Y/N choked out and Bruce looked up at him under his eyelashes with his reddening lips stretched wide over Y/N’s dick. He looked positively sinful, and that moment was probably the quickest it had ever taken Y/N to get fully hard. He nearly felt dizzy with the force of his arousal. Bruce made a noise in his throat as Y/N hardened, a choking sound, and Y/N put his fist against his mouth to muffle his whimper.

Bruce relaxed his gag reflex and kept going until Y/N was completely down his throat. It was no easy feat, but it was something that Bruce had dreamed about doing for several weeks now. He was already fully hard against his own thigh, loving the weight and taste of his lover.

In the meantime, he squeezed some lube on his fingers and pushed one into his asshole. He was already so ready for it there was hardly any resistance, so he pushed in another to stretch himself as quickly as possible.

Y/N groaned again, face flushed, as he watched Bruce do this, and had to bite his knuckle by the time Bruce had three fingers inside of him and moaned around Y/N’s cock. If they weren’t under a time constraint, and if Y/N’s brain wasn’t being blown out through his dick, Y/N would try to take back some control and play a little. When they had time, Y/N would take the other apart and praise and simultaneously slutshame him until Bruce was begging to come.

As it were, Y/N knocked his head back against the wall and stifled another moan when Bruce began to work up a rhythm, bobbing his head up and down Y/N’s cock inch by inch. Drool dribbled down his chin. It was obscene and gorgeous, and Y/N scarcely wanted it to end. At the very least, Y/N wanted to come like this. Bruce had other ideas though, and Y/N made a noise of disappointment when Bruce pulled away with swollen, wet lips. Bruce leaned in and licked up a bead of precum forming on his tip and Y/N couldn’t help but bite his lip, completely turned on. The moment was ruined when Bruce glanced at his watch and muttered,

“thirteen minutes.”

Bruce squeezed lube on Y/N’s cock, which twitched in response, and stroked Y/N once or twice before standing. With little preamble, Bruce climbed onto Y/N’a lap and angled Y/N’s dick to go into his hole. It was a little overwhelming with how quickly they were going.

“Do you want a condom?” Y/N grunted out when Bruce held him still.

“No,” Bruce answered simply and sank down slowly on Y/N cock. It was slow going because of how big he was, and Y/N’s hands went to hold Bruce’s hips automatically, even if he felt like his participation in this scenario hardly mattered. Even if Y/N was a little annoyed at how Bruce had reduced him to his dick, the billionaire felt wonderful around him. He was hot and tight, and Y/N memorized every little twitch on Bruce’s face while Bruce stilled to adjust to Y/N’s size.

There was a hot flush on the billionaire’s chest running up his neck to his cheeks and a bead of sweat forming at his grey temples. Y/N didn’t have much time to admire all these little facets because Bruce soon became comfortable enough and lifted himself up to slam back down on Y/N’s cock.

Y/N moaned. Bruce felt so good and Y/N knew Bruce knew it because even with his pupils blown wide and the flush on his cheeks, Bruce had on that little self-satisfied smirk. It drove Y/N wild, and he held Bruce’s hips to fuck up into him as Bruce pounded down, and Bruce lost his rhythm, moaning openly for the other to hear. Y/N kissed him solidly and swallowed down those moans as their tongues entwined and Y/N kept fucking.

Bruce took it so wonderfully. Y/N was like a firebrand inside of him, stretching him deep and wide, and Bruce wasn’t quite sure how he had survived without this. Y/N had the thickest real dick he had ever taken; even Bruce’s toys hardly compared. Bruce had spent several nights, when the adrenaline of a patrol hadn’t quite worn off, fucking himself on his biggest toy imagining it was Y/N. He had literally fantasized of this exact moment, on his knees on his bed, moaning into his pillow, imagining it was Y/N that was really pounding him. The real thing couldn’t compare.

Bruce’s rhythm was now thoroughly off as Y/N took complete control and kept Bruce suspended above his knees. Bruce guessed that they had about five minutes left, and he could feel his orgasm approaching, just out of his reach.

Y/N sensed this and changed angles, so he glanced right against Bruce’s prostate and was a little smug at Bruce’s sudden shout. Bruce panted in Y/N’s ear as he grappled for purchase against him when Y/N didn’t let up against his prostate. Electricity sparked from his toes to his eyes and he shook, closer than he thought.

“Fuck,” Bruce rasped and repeated it like a mantra when Y/N sped up, hitting that spot directly, making him spasm with pleasure. It only took a moment and then, Bruce was coming with a yell. His cum spurted on both of their abs and Y/N kept fucking him through it until he was pushed over the edge himself by Bruce squeezing and twitching around him.

Bruce looked wrecked when he pushed back his sweat slicked hair and stood on wobbly legs. Anyone who looked at him would be able to tell he had just had sex, if they couldn’t smell it on him. It was a minor miracle that Bruce had had his office soundproofed a long time ago. He looked completely unconcerned when he glanced at his watch and bent down to pick up his trousers. Y/N couldn’t help but stare; Bruce had a fantastic ass and when cum dribbled down the back of Bruce’s thigh, Y/N had to stop himself from pushing Bruce over his desk to fuck him again.

“You aren’t going to wear underwear?” Y/N asked when he remembered to speak again. It was an odd decision, considering what had just happened.

“I wanna feel your cum drip out of me,” Bruce murmured, as if it were normal thing to say, and Y/N sucked in a breath, completely aroused.

“You can’t just say stuff like that, B,” he complained.

Bruce raised an eyebrow. “Why, what are you going to do about it?”

Before Y/N could respond to that, Bruce’s intercom beeped, and his secretary said,

“Mr. Wayne, your three o'clock is here.”

Bruce pressed a button and answered, “I’ll be there in a minute, Holly.”

It was amazing how easily he disguised how raw his throat must have been.

To Y/N, Bruce said, “Be at the manor at five thirty.”

And Y/N knew he’d be right on time.

[love-toxin]

when I imagined dom reader and slutty bimbo steve that loves the humiliation and loves being everyone's fucktoy, even if it's his own stepsister, and I end up getting body slammed and pussy slapped... you know what I guess I played myself

WH--WAIT HOLD ON...HOLD ON--!!

(cws: stepcest, bimbo!stepbrother!steve, choking, masturbation, riding, slutshaming/degradation, creampie, oral, f!angelface.)

hhhhhh.......Stevie......he loves his new stepsis, you make fun of him a lot but for some reason he doesn't really mind. he has lots of dreams about you, mostly ones that aren't innocent in the slightest, so he feels like he kinda deserves being pushed around and for you to call him names with that smirk on your face. dummy. manwhore. bimbo. slut.

it makes him feel better when he has dates, though--his friends tease him about being a player and a skirt-chaser, but the girls he takes out always moon over him and talk so sweetly in his ear. sometimes they have to get him to slow down when he gets too excited, practically salivating into their mouths as he pulls them down into a mating press, and doesn't realize how big he really is. it's fun, but some of those same girls whisper about him when it's all over, talking about how easy it is to get sex out of him and how needy and sometimes even clingy he is. Harrington's so desperate I bet he'd fuck his own sister.

and that's exactly where it ends up going. he can't help it! he's struggled to get a date for over a week, and he needs to get out all that pent-up frustration. he waits until everyone else is gone and makes a fool of himself rubbing one out, moaning so loud and humping his slick fist so frantically it sounds like some sort of perverse mating call. when you come home early, you have no choice but to peek through the crack in his door--and within moments of realizing what he's up to, you burst through it and climb on top of him before he can even get a word off those rosy, plush lips all wet with his own spit.

"sweet little slut, Stevie--you can't just waste good seed, you gotta put it somewhere so it's safe. if you're this lonely, just do it inside your sis, kay?"

condescension drips off your tongue, a cheshire grin curling your lips as you hump his naked cock through your shorts, until Steve can't take another second and is tearing them down your legs, panties snapped like a rubber band under his fingers. ironically, he's only focused on your pussy until he sits you on top, and spares you no mercy to adjust to his size as he squeezes past your vice-tight walls--but when he's finally inside, he's whimpering out "we can't do this, sis" and "feels dirty, we're being so bad", his mouth nothing more than a whiny pout until you kiss those complaints off of it, and gruffly order him to shut his whore mouth if he wants you to make him cum. but his babbling just doesn't stop until you grab him by the throat and force him back against the pillows, his face growing all red and flushed the longer you cut off his breath, but never croaking for you to stop--in fact, he grabs your wrist and shoves it back down when you try to, begging you in that hoarse voice not to stop choking him when he's so close.

when he finally gets there, finally brutalizes your hips by pounding them into nothing more than jelly as he chases his release, finally slams them up in a fight to get as deep as possible when he blows a load inside his pretty stepsister, Stevie collapses into a puddle of laboured breaths and moans as his cock twitches with every spurt your pussy milks out of him. but even though you told him to do it, you huff and make a big deal of him making such a mess--"such a sloppy boy, can't believe I have to call you my brother"--and the only way to remedy it is for him to drag that lolling head down to press his mouth to your slit, and lick up every creamy drop that he dumped inside you like you're some kinda human toilet. he's just gotta keep licking, keep sucking, keep stroking your clit in time with his tongue's swipes--and when you're all clean and left cumming on your stepbrother's handsome face, that's when you'll forgive him for being so crass and slutty and not even inviting his favourite sister to the party in his bedroom.

[mill3rrrd]

DEAR DIARY b hoover

“i need to get her out the picture, she’s really fucking up my frame, she’s not developed like we are..” – tyler, the creator

cw. slutshaming, rumours, hints at bertholdt’s bisexuality, sexism NOT PROOFREAD

wc. 3.5k

synopsis. bertholdt was jealous. of you. why did you get so much of reiner’s attention? honestly, he nearly hated you as much as reiner said he did.

chapter one. first impressions

dear diary,

i HATE my life.

you wasted no time bringing out your diary, filled with previous entries. a lot of them were vents about one person in particular, reiner braun. he made your life so miserable to the point you actually cared that he made it miserable. he’s always had it out for you, like picking on you for the thickness of your false lash clusters and mind you, they weren’t even that thick. honestly, it’s reiner’s problem for getting so bothered about them but then it came as a surprise to you when he was flirting.

exactly, flirting! it was a shitty technique though and that’s when he started spreading rumours about you. they were probably the most believably unbelievable rumours ever because boys thrive on making girls out to be sluts.

obviously, people believed that you sent him nudes and fucked him in the woods behind the school. why? because reiner’s the big bad popular boy that everyone loves and adores as a big brother. however, you would never be caught dead in that shady spot. and you’d put your comfort before your desperation any day. you’d need to wait until your mom got home to go through your day and debrief every part of it. you let out a sigh, scribbling your feelings down into your paged heart.

if i didn’t already have ONE boy plotting on my DOWNFALL, i have another plotting on ME. if it wasn’t for the fact that he’s reiner’s best friend, i’d feel flattered but considering that fact, it’s probably a plan to embarrass me. it’s weird how you never really acknowledged him though. if i remember hearing reiner correctly, he called him bertl.

i’ve never heard that name in my life. however, as i walked away i heard someone else call him bertholdt. probably porco, but again, never heard of him. which is SUPER weird because he’s soo tall, surely i would’ve atleast recognised him because i’m in my junior year. i can say for sure, though, i don’t like him. i don’t even know the guy and he’s giving me fake googleys and stammering. i can tell for sure he’s a really bad liar. ugh, i HATE reiner braun. honestly, that boy has no home training and the smallest dick ever and i don’t even need to see it to know. how embarrassing for him, i AM embarrassed for him and that’s probably the best feeling i’ll ever harbour for him.

i’ll probably ask historia to ask ymir about him since she’s somewhat friends with reiner, even if he’s weird. to be fair, they did grow up together so i can’t just ask her to tell him to piss off. and ymir usually fucks off with him to pull pranks on the janitor anyway so it’s not THAT much of a bother.

you closed your diary shut and sighed, slipping it into your bedside cabinet. your bed frame creaked as you got up and padded toward your desk, staring at yourself in the mirror. with a cringe, you leaned forward and examined your lip liner. it was smudged from the rain you walked home in and your lashes looked like they were one blink away from falling off. it was a wednesday, but you had a stressful day so your peeled the clusters off, bit by bit.

with nothing better to do, you began your skincare routine. the feeling of a cold, almost gel-ish like substance rubbing into your skin sent a shiver of satisfaction down your spine.

halfway through, your mom came home, your younger brother in tow. she had shouted up to announce she was home and your brother bounded up the stairs and burst into your room.

“n/n! hi!” he squealed, light shining in his eyes as he climbed into your lap and hugged you. you laughed, returning his hug, “hi jude, how was your day?” you asked softly, readjusting him in your lap so that he was curled into your left arm.

“it was so good, the teacher let us have indoor playtime because it was raining and we played twister and i won! i can backbend now, like you can,” jude giggled, smiling so brightly at you. you giggled, “we have a gymnast in our house, i bet you’ll be in the olympics one day and make us so, so proud.”

jude nodded, “some of the girls make fun of me though, they say gymnastics is a girl’s thing and i should play football..” you shook your head, “you just do what you’re good at, those girls are just jealous they can’t do what you can.”

again, your brother nodded enthusiastically, his smile returning to his face. lifting him up, you set him upright and brushed through his hair briefly, “go see if mom needs help, okay?” jude scurried off, his socked feet creating small thuds as he went back downstairs.

you finished your routine, leaving your lashes to then be applied. on your desk, your phone buzzed but you payed no mind to it, only putting dnd on and busying yourself with your task at hand. only when you were done, did you pick it up, seeing the ymir blow up your phone with your name.

ymir y/n u are still single right

you yea y?

ymir just wondering, bertholdt seemed pretty interested in you 🫢

you who even is that😭 i swr ive never seen that boy in my life

ymir doesnt surprise me, hes been reiners shadow since first grade, surely u would’ve atleast heard his name in class tho.

you no?? im telling you i never knew he existed

ymir y/n hes in gym, english and chemistry with us🤦‍♀️

you oh ..

read 05:32

that’s embarrassing, you thought as you did your blink test. your lashes weren’t too far or too close to your lash line so you smiled in triumph as you applied lip balm. it didn’t bother you too much, though, any best friend of reiner is not a best friend of yours.

not until later into the night did you give ‘bertholdt’ another thought. you layed awake, waiting for sleep to take your body and soul for another night. you figured you could atleast look out for him tomorrow, just to really look at him this time. last time, all you saw of bertholdt was his head peaking behind reiner. he seemed like the type to speak when spoken to, which wasn't necessarily a a bad thing. until you fell asleep, the conversation replayed in tour head.

“look at her, bertl, why would you go for her?” reiner tutted, an obnoxious tone edging his voice as he forced his hand onto your shoulder to keep you in place. ‘bertl’ went red in the face and began stammering excuses, “what gave you that impression, what are you getting at?!” you didn’t really pay attention to him, focusing on the hand bruising your shoulder.

“go away, reiner, i’m not interested in your bullshit today,” you shoved his hand away and strut off in search of pieck or historia. as you walked away, a boystrous laugh sounded over all the chatter, followed by a ‘i was only joking!’ and another ‘the one time you actually show interest in a girl, it’s the slut?’ and then a firm ‘i don’t, stop playing around.’

morning rolled around quickly, light streaking into your room. a thin ribbon of sunrise created a bridge across your nose, causing your face to crinkle into consciousness. you rubbed your eye carefully, grateful that your lashes on during the night. however, that gratefulness dissipated when you saw your uniform hanging individually on your wardrobe door. lifting your phone, the time read 06: 27 which meant you slept through your alarm.

with a groan, you slipped out of your bed, trudging into the bathroom but not forgetting the extra blanket from your bedding. it was nearing the end of winter, which meant morning chill and rain. amongst the sound of bristles mingling with your teeth, you could hear low chatter coming from your brother’s room. probably your mom waking him up. after spitting into the sink, you came back up with a yawn and slipped your toothbrush into the holster.

by the time you got changed and applied your usual makeup, you had enough time to eat breakfast. you settled for porridge oats with honey. the gooey warmth felt nice, striking up your body heat like an ember somewhere in your core had been blown on until it caught fire again. your brother came down with your mom, who gave you a look of adoration, “good morning, baby, how did you sleep?”

she caught you at a bad time, you had scarfed downh half your porridge all at once. with a big gulp, you smiled, “i slept well, maybe too well.. i slept through my alarm.”

your mom bent forward, wiping away stray porridge that had made its way to the side of your mouth, “what have i told you about stuffing your mouth, n/n?” she smiled as she teased you and you responded, “not to.. historia’s dad is supposed to be here soon.”

“is that so?” she murmured, tending to your brother’s meal. as if on queue, a horn beeped. you hopped out of your chair and grabbed your bag, “that’s her! bye mom, bye jude, love you lots!”

you kissed their cheeks before slipping your shoes on and heading out of the door. your friend’s car sat infront of your house, historia and her dad in the front, leaving you to get into the back with ymir.

“hey guys,” you beamed. they exchanged greetings with you and began conversation with you. the drive to school was much shorter than it would be if you walked, which you were grateful for, especially in this weather.

when historia’s dad dropped the three of you off, ymir immediately poked you. it was hard enough for you to feel it through your coat. “ymir, what the hell?” said girl laughed, looping her spare arm around your shoulders, her right already around historia. she brought you in close, “how about i properly introduce you to bertholdt, hm? that way you won’t be unfamiliar with him.”

“will reiner be there?” you asked, fiddling with the hood over your head. the cold was really getting to you. ymir shrugged, “probably.”

you hummed, feigning interest, “no.”

historia giggled, covering her mouth and peering up at ymir, “you know what reiner’s like.. i’m surprised you haven’t lashed out yet, y/n.” you shrugged, “he’s not worth that sort of energy.”

“ah,” historia let out, “fair enough.. oh, speak of the devil!”

in the distance, reiner stood in the centre of his group, irritatingly standing out. he was cracking a joke with marcel from the looks of it. his big group hogged the steps and the entrance, which was in perfect alliance with the fountain, your groups usual spot. you could see pieck and annie waiting for the three of you to arrive, the black haired girl waving at you all just ten steps away.

“oh yeah, guys,” you perked up as you spotted mr smith, your history teacher, walking through the car park of the school building, “i need to talk to mr smith about my history grade, he said he could give me tips to get it up since i’m falling behind..”

you groaned at your admitted failure on your midterm, “i’ll see you at first period, though.” the two girls bid you a brief farewell before you strolled towards the other side of the courtyard to meet with your teacher.

“ah, miss y/n,” mr smith smiled as a greeting, taking his hands out of his usual tie behind his back, “come for advice, i see?” you nodded, “yeah, i don’t think i’ve ever done so bad on a test.” he asked you to walk with him, so you followed him up the steps. it was a comfortable silence, he was always your favourite, not one to yell but that was what happened when respect was an automatic for you.

spotting a small rock, – small enough it couldn’t even be considered a pebble – you kicked it up, narrowly hitting the shell of reiner’s ear. you snickered, hiding your nasty grin behind your hand, as reiner glared at you. he then redirected his gaze to mr smith, a smirk appearing on his face. you turned away, facing ahead.

“i hope that wasn’t you that kicked that, miss y/n,” he wished, though the humour behind his voice told you he was using a facade of proffesionalism to hide his amusement. you gasped, “i could never, sir.”

mr smith was aware of the ongoing feud between you and reiner and, against your protests, reported it to his higher ups. however, all it got was an assembly on anti-bullying.

“i have to say, you have incredible aim,” mr smith praised as the door closed, giving you a curt nod which you returned and thanked him for as the two of you strolled into his classroom.

break rolled around after second period. annie met up with you in the halls, her class opposite yours. she said hello first and you happily greeted her back. all was peaceful until reiner blocked your path, marcel and jean in tow.

“where’d you run off to with mr smith earlier?” he interrogated, tease at the ready, “fucking him for a better grade, hm?” laughter erupted from him and his friends.

you peered up at him through your lashes, “do i look like your girlfriend?” that made reiner’s laughter stop, “what do you mean by that?”

“i mean to stop questioning me like a jealous boy,” you sneered, “the only reason you hate me is because i rejected you and maybe if you brought yourself out of your big ego for once, you would realise i might’ve said yes had you been a little nicer!”

annie whistled beside you, a proud smile on her face. that boy looked hurt. momentarily. then, his smirk reappeared, “you have a zit on your nose.” laughter again. what the hell was wrong with him and his friends. you rolled your eyes, a retort on the tip of your tongue.

“reiner, maybe you should stop..” that shy, almost lazy voice from yesterday.. had he always been there? your eyes drifted to the bertholdt character you’d only now just been aware of.

“aw, bertl it’s just a bit of fun,” reiner slapped his shoulder, crinkling the boy’s blazer near the arm. bertholdt looked at it and frowned, an almost sad and far off look remaining in his eye. the buffer boy of the two leaned in, barely any space between their noses, “don’t tell me you like her..”

the taller one sighed, “stop it, i’m just telling you not to waste your breath, she wasn’t wrong when she said you look like a jealous boyfriend..” and bertholdt was jealous of you. honestly, he wanted you out of the picture.

with a sigh, reiner backed off. his bicep bumped your shoulder, emphasising the height difference. marcel and jean scoffed at you and annie, following him. this time, you noticed bertholdt too.

“you struck a nerve,” annie giggled, letting you join arms with her. nodding, you prided yourself, “i know!”

later on in the day, reiner sat in the boy’s changing room, venting to bertholdt about earlier’s interaction. bertholdt, however, was more concerned with the lingering thought, does he still like her? exchanging his formal shirt for his gym shirt.

“hey reiner, do you still like her?” the boy asked, irises quaking with uncertainty. reiner’s face exploded into pink.

“i hate that bitch..” he grumbled, slipping into a pair of sweatpants, “i just love giving her a hard time.”

there was silence between the two, being the last ones out of the locker room. then, a sigh followed by a “is it that obvious?” ensued. bertholdt looked down, a non verbal i knew it going through his head, “yeah, it is..”

“honestly, i think you should drop it,” his jaw tensed, “your bully tactic isn’t working, it hasn’t worked.” reiner was quick to be at bertholdt’s side, “if i didn’t know any better, you are jealous.. what kind of friend are you?”

clearly not the loyal type, bertholdt thought, biting his cheek, “the friend that’s tired of seeing and hearing you pursue a girl that hates you.. calling her a slut isn’t getting you anywhere! no, i’m not jealous, i’m bored..”

“ah..” reiner let the noise slip and retreated to his claimed section if the locker room, “i.. i get your point, sorry bertl.” he was surprised. bertholdt had never been one to raise his voice.

with a sad glance in his direction, bertholdt said nothing and left to join the others on the track field. reiner knew he was jealous, just not aware of who he was jealous of. entering the field, everyone had already lined up and was ready to complete whatever task had been explained.

“hoover, you’re late!” mr shadis yelled, “where is braun?” all eyes were on him. he could recognise everyone’s faces, but he payed attention to yours. bertholdt could acknowledge a pretty girl, you were definitely in the higher ranks of his mental list. you were the bane of his life, the thing reiner focused on.

“i’m sorry, sir, we were in the nurses office,” bertholdt excused himself, “reiner is still changing.” shadis gave him a weary eye before tutting, “don’t let it happen again.”

“yes, sir.”

shadis asked your team, consisting of you, ymir, eren, and connie to demonstrate a relay race once reiner came out. the full track was 400 metres, meaning you would all run 100 each. the four of you got into your agreed order in the middle row: eren, ymir, connie, you. eren received a bright yellow baton and got into position before the siren went off. when it did, he sprinted towards your friend. as he gave her the baton, he tripped over himself and landed ass-up on the floor, receiving laughter from everyone.

before you knew it, you had your hand holding out for connie as you began to jog when he got within ten steps of you. you were on the school’s national team for relay. you prided yourself for that. that’s how you learned a particular technique to preserve energy.

you’d jog as you waited for the third person to pass on the baton and when you finally received it, you would begin longer, slower strides–almost like you were hopping–on your tiptoes before takung shorter, faster steps. not to forget to lean your body lower towards the ground to propel yourself forward. that always earned you top two in annual nationals.

so, you did just that. you crossed the finish line, chest barely heaving as ymir walked up to you. shadis had set up four individual stop watches and got three other students to control them everytime the baton had been passed.

“jaeger, 13.57 seconds,” shadis glowered at him, “shave off seven next time.”

putting down that stop watch, he examined the next two, “fritz and springer, you both landed on 11.8,” his lip twitched into a smirk that quickly left his face. shadis moved onto your one, “l/n, 9.7, keep that up and you’ll hold a world record.”

a smile erupted onto your face as ymir pat your back. historia, annie, and pieck surrounded you to congratulate you, which you brushed off as practice.

bertholdt observed you, he really wanted to know what was so special about you that made reiner so obsessed. he noticed how, unlike most people, you had dimples under your mouth instead of on your cheeks. they showed up when you smiled. your eyebrows were naturally full and you had great facial harmony. as you ran, bertholdt noticed that you had a body lots of girls wanted but that didn’t make you stand out to him.

ymir guided you over some point during his analysis, his face heating up when he realised ymir was talking to him amd not you.

“sorry, what were you saying?” bertholdt apologised, slouching to ease tension in his shoulders. ymir gestured to you, who had a bored, almost uninterested look on your face as you glanced up at him from your fingers, up to his face, and back to your fingers.

“i said, since you two don’t know each other well, i thought i’d introduce you two,” ymir repeated herself, irk edging her tone, “y/n, this is bertholdt. the boy you had never seen before until now.” you didn’t know who he was? his lips thinned in minor embarrassment. he probably looked like an idiot. reiner and ymir already accused him of liking you, and now he happened to be distracted and went all red while he was looking in your direction.

“hi,” you murmured, finally taking away your attention from your fingers. considering his low presence, he was big. he had wide shoulders and his arms strained against the fabric of his long-sleeved shirt. he had to be 6’5 minimum! it impressed you, sure, but he was just another follower of reiner’s.

“oh, ymir, annie and pieck are running,” you pulled on her arm, dragging her away from the boy. that’s when bertholdt realised it. it wasn’t your beauty that had reiner hooked, nor was it your body shape and curves.

no, it was your unattainability.

[queenofthekings]

all because I liked a boy.

Summary: After Nancy and Steve breakup, you help Steve through his emotions. Although, the rumour mill around school seems to do nothing but make the situation worse.

Authors Note: This story was inspired by the Sabrina Carpenter song "All Because I Liked a Boy". I have an obsession with Gamer!Steve and this obsession won't go away, originally it was just gonna be Gamer!Reader but @corroded-hellfire wrote that Gamer!Steve fic for me, I couldn't not make Steve a gamer too. Plus, the idea of having a gamer squad made up of Eddie, Robin, Steve and Reader is all I need.

CW: Slutshaming, drinking, swearing, reader plays Call of Duty, Steve is an ABBA stan, fluff.

Word count: 3.2k

Any hate will not be tolerated, constructive criticism is welcomed.

A typical Friday night for you would be spent doing your homework for the week and playing video games, or the better way to phrase it would be answering one maths question when you felt like it in between endless rounds on Call of Duty Zombies and slices of pizza.

Over the sounds of the game and the music blaring in your room, you barely heard the ding of your phone. You lean back in your chair to see who’d texted you, but the screen went dark once you were in the right position to do so, shrugging, you returned to gaming and pizza.

You ignored several more pings, focusing more on the game until your phone began ringing loudly. The obnoxious shriek of “holy fuckin shit that’s my best friend” emitted from your phone causing you to roll your eyes as you knew who was calling.

Leaning back again, you grabbed the phone and answered it, expertly still able to kill zombies simultaneously. “Roadkill Cafe, you kill it, we grill it. This is Y/N, how can I help you?”

“There’s a party at Amy’s tonight, do you wanna go with me?”

You took a small bite of your pizza before answering. “I’ve got homework.”

“You’re literally on round 34 on Zetsubou No Shima and have just pack-a-punched your ray gun.”

You went quiet for a moment, sitting up in your chair and pausing the game. “How did you know that?”

“I can literally see you through your window; so, stop camping in the corner and go to this party with me.”

You turned to your window, Steve waving at you when you noticed him. You gave him a forced smile, throwing up your middle finger and hanging up on him. Pulling down your blinds, you stared between your wardrobe and the TV – as much as you’d far prefer to stay home and finish your pizza and play more rounds of Call of Duty, you know Steve would never let you hear the end of it.

Sighing, you kicked your gaming chair out the way and made your way to the wardrobe to pull the doors open. After pondering about what to wear for a few minutes, you grabbed a grey crop top and some black denim shorts.

After dressing, you frantically brushed the untidy mess that was your hair and placed it into space buns before starting on your makeup. You decided on a more neutral look, knowing it would all be gone in a few hours.

Satisfied with your outfit, you grabbed your purse and converse and made your way downstairs. You sat on the stairs to put your shoes on and tie your laces, calling out to your mom that you were going out with Steve and would either be home late or would stay over at his.

Your mom made a slight grunt in response, turning up the TV as she watched some mindless gameshow. Ever since your dad left, she was either there and waiting for him to come back or burring herself in work. You couldn’t find it in your heart to tell her that dad wasn’t going to come back, not this time.

Shaking your head to ignore that thought, you stood up and left your house, finding Steve parked right in front of your front door, with him leaning against the car. You smiled at him as you walked down the path towards him. “Harrington, this party better change my entire existence or I’m blocking you.”

Steve laughed as he opened the passenger side door before walking around the back of the car to get in on his side. “You’d miss me too much after just half an hour, don’t you lie to me.”

You shook your head as you climbed in, barely able to strap yourself in before Steve drove off. Driving to the party in his car was how usually car rides are with you and Steve; chaotic. The pair of you had ABBA blaring through the car speakers, with both of you screaming the lyrics like a pair of coyotes.

Arriving at the party, Steve parked a couple of houses down – mostly because there was no space in Amy’s driveway but also to potentially make sure nobody would drunkenly damage the car. Unfortunately for Steve, that had happened one too many times and since you didn’t have a car, the pair of you couldn’t alternate whose car you took to parties. He’d nagged you for months to get a car but that was before your dad left and the nagging stopped after that.

The pair of you gave a quick smile to each other before heading inside, almost instantly losing each other in the crowd. Steve had gone to see his own friends while you had politely pushed through the crowd to find a drink, making a mental note to get one for Steve as well.

You poured yourself a shot of vodka into a cup before filling the rest of it with a coke, you didn’t want to get too drunk, but you knew that pacing yourself with the alcohol was the best way forward. Parties weren’t entirely your kind of scene, although you enjoyed them occasionally.

Steve was always the life of every party he attended, everyone would gravitate towards him while all you could do was move out of the way and tell him good luck with the horde.

You poured a vodka and coke for Steve too before vacating the table, trying to find him. By the time you did find him in the living room, he’d already had a couple of beers in him – how, you had no idea. Laughing at his happy and buzzed self, you handed him the vodka and coke and watched him down it in several seconds.

Taking a sip of your drink, you leaned over to him. “Steve, you gotta take it easy, I’m not driving your drunk ass home.”

Steve shrugged you off. “I’m not even that drunk, baby!”

You raised an eyebrow at him, laughing. “You only call me that when you’re drunk, I’ll be outside if you need me.” You patted his arm before walking outside to the patio, drink still in hand.

Arriving outside, you gave a nod towards the host before finding a quieter spot. Before everything that had happened, you would always be the one drinking everyone under the table and getting blackout drunk but now you always felt out of place at parties.

You couldn’t tell if that was because of your dad or since Nancy and Steve broke up; the three of you would always go to parties together. When they did break up, it hit Steve pretty hard and you could tell it was still hurting him. He didn’t have many people to go to, either. They’d decided to keep their breakup very private, only telling a select few people because in their eyes, it was nobody else’s business but theirs.

The only downside to not telling everyone they were broken up is that people would ask both of them how the relationship was going and why they weren’t sitting together at lunch. You could tell anytime someone asked Steve, a small piece of him died inside and you’d always step in with some nonsense excuse and have to console him before classes started up.

By the time Steve joined you, he very much was closer to being wasted than sober, happily stumbling through the backyard with a bottle of vodka in his hand that somehow never broke, no matter how many times he almost fell. He joined you on the trampoline you were sat on and joined you in staring up at the stars, nudging your shoulder to offer you the bottle.

You happily accepted, taking a long swig of the bitter drink before handing it back. The pair of you didn’t say anything as you sat and drank in silence, just enjoying each other’s presence.

“Am I bullshit?” Steve asked after a long silence, you looked over at him. He didn’t look back, just kept staring up at the stars and just from only seeing the side of his face, you could tell he was almost in tears.

“What do you mean?” You took the bottle from him, assuming he’d just had too much to drink and had a case of not having a filter and would say anything that came to his head. Although there was that sinking feeling in your stomach that told you he meant the question wholeheartedly, alcohol or not.

“It’s what Nancy said before she,” his words caught in his throat, and you could really tell he was really struggling not to cry. “Before she broke up with me. And I guess it’s just been replaying in my head ever since, so much that I believe it.”

Your heart broke in that moment to see your best friend, the one person who’s had your back since the day you were born be reduced to a broken shell of their former self over a girl who broke up with him two weeks beforehand. You shook your head, placing the lid back onto the bottle and hugged him tightly. “You’re not bullshit, Steve. You could never be bullshit to me, okay? And I’ll keep telling you that every damn day until that voice in your head stops talking.”

You felt him nod against your shoulder before breaking the hug, sniffing a little. He stared at your face for a few moments, his hazel eyes locked with yours before he leaned into you and his lips connected with yours. You froze for a moment before finally kissing him back.

As much as you kept it hidden; you did have a crush on Steve but surely everyone did, right? You weren’t going to do anything about the crush anyway since he was your best friend and you knew how messy breakups between friends can be.

But yet, here you were, kissing your best friend and you were loving every second of it. You moved your hand to wrap around the back of his neck, while his hand moved to cup your cheek. There was nothing lustful or desperate about the kiss, it seemed to be as innocent as the first snowfall of the year.

All too soon the kiss is over when Steve loses his balance and almost falls off the trampoline, causing you to grab him and snap out of your trance. Both of you burst into laughter, instantly going back into bed friend mode.

“Alright, Monkey-Brain, I think you need to go home and take a nice long sleep,” you gently patted his arm. Steve tried to protest but you shushed him and both of you staggered back inside. As dangerous as you knew it was to drink and drive, you knew you couldn’t just leave Steve to sleep in the car, you more or less had no choice.

“Getting a DUI better be worth it for your ass,” you muttered as you shoved him into the back of his car, grabbing his keys from his jacket pocket and beginning the drive back to his house. While you weren’t drunk, you certainly weren’t sober enough to be able to drive safely.

Thankfully, you were able to get both you and Steve home safely without much trouble. You left Steve in his own bed, barely able to take anymore of his clothes off after his jeans, shoes and jacket before the sexual jokes came in. “If you wanted me naked that badly, you should’ve just asked.”

You raised an eyebrow up at him, starting to walk towards his door to leave. “Steve, I’m being nice. Now I’m going home, I’ll talk to you in the morning or whenever you wake up.”

Once he noticed you were being serious, he sat up and instantly looked like he was going to cry. “Please don’t go, I’m sorry.”

You sighed, coming back to his bed to hold his hand. “I’m only a phone call away if you need me in the night, okay? I’m sorry for snapping. I love you, now get some sleep.”

He nodded, squeezing your hand twice before mumbling out an “I love you too” and passing out. You smiled at him before making your way home and collapsing into your own bed.

By the time you woke up at sometime that afternoon, your phone was blowing up with texts and notifications on every social media you had. Downing most of your bottled water and a headache pill, you finally opened your phone to see what had happened only to be greeted with photos of you and Steve from last night – mostly kissing on the trampoline. There was no denying it was you and him, your clothes and his hair gave it away instantly.

You felt your heard drop as you read through what people were saying – almost every single message was abusive. Calling you a whore, a slut, a homewrecker and sometimes worse than that. After reading a few of them, you threw your phone down and sobbed into your pillow.

As much as you didn’t blame Steve nor Nancy for what happened, you wished they’d just been open about their breakup. At least then she wouldn’t get blamed for it or Steve would be seen as a cheater.

You called Steve through your tears, hoping he would be awake. He picked up after the third ring. “I guess you’ve seen the pictures,” was all he could manage to say.

“Yeah,” your voice wobbled as you tried to make it sound like you weren’t crying. “I know it’s stupid to cry over but this shit isn’t okay.”

“It is. I’m so sorry you have to deal with this, I’m trying to get them to back off but nobody’s listening to me.”

You sighed, shaking your head. “If you hadn’t kissed me, this shit wouldn’t have happened.”

Steve went quiet for a moment. “I know and I’m sorry. I’ve just wanted to kiss you for so long and I didn’t know it would bite us in the ass.”

You hesitated. “How long have you wanted to kiss me?”

“I mean, I’ve liked you for years but you were my best friend and I respect you too much to ruin our friendship,” he admitted. “But no matter what, I’ll stick by you through this. And probably by tomorrow, they would’ve moved onto something else.”

Only by Monday, the harassment now was everywhere you went. Your locker was completely destroyed with some kind of black ink covering everything inside, completely ruining your books and belongings, you were getting shouted at in the halls and at lunch you had milk poured over your head.

Tuesday was the same.

And so was Wednesday.

By Thursday, you took the day off school, unable to face the harassment in person but it wouldn’t stop it online. After school was over, you and Steve got into a party on PlayStation. “How’re you doing?”

“I just wanna cry and play video games,” you almost sobbed out, your tears coming back after not being around for a while.

Steve chuckled almost bitterly, scrolling through his gaming library for a game. “I can fire up Zombies if you want, unless you’re in the mood for Dead By Daylight or your favourite; Dead Island.”

“If you make me play Dead Island one more time, I’m coming over there and personally pissing on your PlayStation.”

Steve was almost howling with laughter, causing you to laugh too, even through your tears. Once he stopped laughing, he spoke up. “I know, I’ll get Robin and Eddie in to play Zombies to take your mind off things.”

“Sure,” you said quietly, wiping away your tears and relaxing back into your gaming chair.

After a couple of hours, you, Eddie, Robin, and Steve were thoroughly enjoying your game of Zombies, all four of you laughing and throwing around joking insults the entire time. Until your phone pinged. Once. Twice. Three times. And it didn’t stop for a few seconds, everyone noticing you going quiet.

Your bottom lip trembled as tears swelled up in your eyes before you turned off your phone and took a few seconds to compose yourself. “Eddie, I need you to cover me while I pack-a-punch.”

“Sure thing, I’m close to being able to as well,” he replied, switching back into gamer mode along with you.

The four of you gamed for a few more hours until the late hours and it was just you and Steve left. “You okay?” He asked, leaning in his chair to look through your window.

You shrugged, keeping your back to him. “Eh, I’m alright. Gaming with you and the guys helped a lot.”

“You gonna go back to school tomorrow?” he sounded almost hopeful in his voice, even if he already knew the answer.

“Not tomorrow, no. I’m coming back on Friday though,” you almost grimaced through the phone, regretting telling anyone your plans because you knew there was no going back on your word now.

He almost felt his heart sink a little. All he wanted to do was protect you but he knew the only real way he could was to reveal that he and Nancy had been broken up for closer to a month and the kiss between him and you had nothing to do with it.

But most of all, honestly, he wanted to start dating you and if anyone had a problem with it, they could keep it to themselves.

Both you and Steve stayed home from school the next day, playing games all day and doing your best to make each other laugh as much as possible. You’d confided in him how nervous you were to go back to school the next day and Steve only reminded you that he’d protect you as best as he could.

The pair of you fell asleep still on a phone call together, both of your phones running out of battery before you’d woken up. Which was part of Steve’s plan; he didn’t want you to wake up and read any of the hateful messages so not having any phone battery for the whole day ensured that.

Although you got up late that morning, Steve was still able to take you in, his hand holding onto yours the whole way there. He stopped right outside the school and turned to you. “I’m just gonna go to park and I’ll see you inside, okay?”

You hesitantly nodded before getting out, watching Steve drive off for a few seconds before you took a deep breath and opening the doors and stepping inside. You walked through the busy halls, desperately trying not to be noticed. Everyone’s voices almost becoming deafening to you as you tried to not have a panic attack; you saw a few people stare at you and that only seemed to make things worse.

You almost jumped out of your skin as you felt someone’s hand hold yours, turning towards them, you felt your heart swell when you saw Steve. “Hi,” you barely choked out, tears welling up in your eyes and threatening to fall down your cheeks.

“Hi,” he smiled back, leading you through the halls, never once letting go of your hand.