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illdowhatiwantthanks · 5 months

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heyyy, so i have a request cause i really love your amelia storys. So could you do a amelia one, where the reader is pregnant and amelia is scared to have sex. The reader goes to her best friend (maybe arizona or christina) for advise. Than the friend and the reader go to a sex shop and buy the readers first dildo. Later amelia finds the reader using the toy and the talk about amelia being scared to have sex while the reader is pregnant. And well smut at the end.

Xoxo

Can do! Hope you enjoy. :)

Playing It Safe

Amelia Shepherd x fem!reader Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI, NSFW, sex, fingering, oral, masturbation, toy usage, sex shop, squirting, language around genitalia, some explicit language, previous Amelia trauma, pregnancy times, established relationship (let me know if I've missed anything!) Word Count: 2.1k

Summary: You're needier than ever during your second trimester, but Amelia has some pregnancy trauma that's getting in the way. Thankfully, you've got people who are willing to help you get what you need.

“Amy,” you prompted as she circled your clit with her tongue. You gently pulled her head up, and she looked up at you expectantly with those beautiful, blue eyes. “I love your mouth, but I need you inside me.”

She furrowed her eyebrows. “I don’t know, babe.” She crossed her arms and rested her chin on your protruding stomach. “It doesn’t feel safe.”

You rolled your eyes. “Amelia, come on. We’ve been over this. Pregnancy sex is perfectly safe. If straight people do it, we can do it.”

“It just…” she stuttered, flopping onto the bed next to you. You sighed, your body drifting down, down from where it had tensed up. You weren’t going to get what you needed. Not today. “It makes me nervous.” She shrugged, and you cupped her face as she lay next to you. How could someone so smart be so stupid.

“You’re a doctor. You should know this. I know this.” Amelia never treated you differently because you were a nurse. You had a different skill set, that was all. But at a time like this, you didn’t mind emphasizing that, of the two of you, Amelia should absolutely be the more educated about pregnancy and safe sex.

Amelia was quiet for a while, looking down and avoiding your eyes. “I keep thinking about Christopher.”

Shit, you thought. It’s not that you’d forgotten about Amelia’s first child, the one who’d died in her arms mere minutes after he was born. Christopher was a part of her. But you sometimes forgot that the hopes and fears that surrounded your pregnancy were different for Amelia than they were for you. Amelia had experience. Not only that, she had trauma. Heart-wrenching, horrible trauma that she’d carry with her the rest of her life, even as she also got to carry and treasure this new child. It wasn’t fair to expect Amelia to be completely rational when it came to pregnancy safety.

You ran your thumb along her cheekbone, your voice soft. “Hey. That’s not gonna happen again. Our baby is perfectly healthy.”

“I just don’t want to take any risks,” Amelia whispered.

“Okay,” you sighed. “Okay. Whatever you need.”

Amelia started moving her hand down your body. “I mean, I can still…”

“It’s fine, Amy,” you said, hoisting yourself out of bed and kissing her on the forehead. “I gotta go to work anyway.”

You felt bad for your patients that night at Grey-Sloan. It wasn’t their fault you were sexually frustrated. You slumped into a rolling chair at the nurse’s station, groaning, and laid your head on the desk.

“Wow.”

You looked up and smiled wryly. It was Arizona–Dr. Robbins, as her patients would call her. For a little while, you and her had been the only out lesbians on the peds floor, so you’d become fast friends. Never dated–you weren’t each other’s type–but you were excellent wingwomen for one another. In fact, it was Arizona who had set you up with Amelia.

She leaned over conspiratorially, so that the people around you wouldn’t overhear your conversation. “That’s a sad lesbian sigh if I’ve ever heard one.”

You shrugged.

“What’s going on?” she prompted. “Trouble in paradise?”

You leaned closer, trying to keep your voice low. “She won’t sleep with me.”

Arizona looked genuinely shocked. “Like, at all!?”

“I mean, she won’t go inside me.”

You had never seen Arizona look more confused. “...Why?”

“She’s afraid it’ll hurt the baby.”

Arizona sat down next to you, rolling close to continue the conversation. “There’s no fucking way she really believes that. She’s a surgeon.”

“I don’t think she really does. She’s just…” You sighed and groaned. “She’s got some trauma.”

Arizona shrugged and mumbled. “I mean, if you really need to, you could just use the strap on yourself.”

You blushed. “We don’t use a strap.”

“Ever?!”

“I don’t know… it just hasn’t come up, I guess.”

She seemed to think deeply about this. “Well, do you have a vibrator or a dildo or anything?”

“No,” you answered quietly, your face getting redder by the minute.

Arizona looked at you like you were an infant, smiling, like you were something cute and tiny. “Aw, you’re just a baby.”

“Shut up. Just because I’m younger than you doesn’t make me a baby.”

“No, you’re right,” she nodded, smirking. “Not owning any sex toys makes you a baby.”

You rolled your eyes.

“What time are you off today?” she said, glancing at her watch.

“7:00,” you answered.

“Me too! It’s a date then.”

“Wait, what?” She’d lost you somewhere along the way.

Arizona squeezed your shoulder. “We’re gonna find you something to put inside yourself.”

You’d never felt more out of your element in your life than you did standing in front of a wall of fake penises with Arizona.

She smiled at your horrified face.

“Little much?” she asked.

You nodded. “I don’t know, Arizona. These all seem way too… real.” You eyed a particularly girthy, veiny dildo and grimaced.

Arizona leaned on your shoulder. “They’re better when they’re attached to boobs,” she admitted. “Here, come here.”

She led you to another aisle where the toys were similar in shape, but much less realistic looking. They were almost futuristic. Sleeker, smaller, more your speed. But there were so many of them.

“I’m feeling overwhelmed,” you told her, staring at all the options.

“You want my advice?” she asked.

You shrugged and nodded.

She pulled a toy down and handed it to you. It was blue and small and bent and there were buttons. You felt like you were in Star Trek. “I’d start with this*,” she explained. “It’s relatively small. It bends, so it can mimic the feeling of fingers.” She looked pointedly at you. “Since that’s what you’re used to.”

You nodded, looking at it. “Yeah, okay. I’ll try it anyway. I just…” You sighed. “It’s not as good, is it?”

“As a partner?!” Arizona shook her head. “But it’ll do the job.”

An hour later, you were sitting in bed, the package opened in front of you, reading the little instruction manual. Sixteen settings. An app!? You just weren’t sure about it. And you felt a little bad for even wanting to use it. You knew you weren’t cheating on Amelia by masturbating. You both did it, you both knew you both did it. You worked long hours, sometimes things just didn’t line up. But this felt different somehow. Illicit.

But, god, you needed it. You’d needed it since last night. Since last week, even, when you’d started to show and Amelia had started treating you like you were made of glass.

You took a deep breath and leaned back against the pillows you’d stacked against the headboard, trying to think sexy thoughts. Amelia thoughts. You thought of her body against yours, the taste of her, her curves you loved to trace.

Your breath started to grow rhythmic, ragged, and you circled your fingers gently over your clit. After a few minutes, your arousal started to pool, and you spread it around, taking a deep breath and grabbing the toy. You looked at it suspiciously, as if it was an alien. It wasn’t Amelia. It didn’t look like Amelia. But, then maybe, like Arizona had said, it would get the job done.

You pressed one of the buttons, choosing a vibration pattern at random, and slowly slid the toy inside of you. You moaned at how good it felt to have something inside you, to once again feel something pressed against your fluttering walls. And while, no, it didn’t feel as good as Amelia’s fingers would, it was new and exciting to be able to control everything, all of it, the whole experience. The speed, the depth, the direction, to cater to your every want and move because it was you on both sides.

You continued stroking your clit as you thrust the toy in and out of you, shaking around it. God, you’d needed this.

When Amelia burst into the bedroom, still in her scrubs, you froze, face beet red, hands between your legs. She wasn't supposed to be home. Not this early.

She stared at you in shock, and neither of you spoke for a moment.

“What are you doing!?” she said, sounding somewhere between sad and angry. It was pretty clear exactly what you were doing.

“Amy, I–”

She shook her head in frustration, sitting on the edge of the bed. You tossed the toy aside and covered yourself with the sheets, feeling more self-conscious than you ever had around her.

You felt like crying. All you’d been trying to do was meet your own needs, so that Amelia wouldn’t have to. You didn’t want to make her any more anxious than she already was, but it seemed like you’d done just that.

She looked in your direction, but not in your eyes, and you saw that hers were full of tears.

“Amy…” you breathed, moving toward her.

“I’m sorry,” she said, wiping tears from underneath her eyelids. “I know it’s safe. In my head, I know it, but I’m just–” She sucked in a shuddering breath. “I’m so scared, all the time. And I know you need me, and I’m just–I’m sorry.”

“Hey,” you said, drawing close and wiping a tear from her cheek. “It’s okay. I’m sorry. I should have been better about telling you what I needed and, well, what I was doing to get it.”

She breathed deeply, seeming to calm down a bit, as she looked you over.

“Did you finish?” she asked, smiling slightly.

“What?”

“Just now. Did you finish?”

“Uh… no. No, but that’s oka–”

Amelia’s lips crashed into yours, hot and salty from her tears, and you pulled away a bit, surprised.

“Amy, it’s okay,” you assured her, holding her face in your hands. “You don’t have to.”

“I want to,” she said, her voice rough with lust and emotion. “I’m so tired of being scared.”

You looked into her eyes as she pushed you down on your back. They were lustful, determined, and just a little bit sorry. You brushed a strand of her hair behind her ear, running a thumb along her brow bone.

“Everything’s gonna be okay, honey,” you told her, quietly. “The baby’s safe and healthy.”

“I know,” she said, pressing her lips to yours and slipping her tongue into your mouth, her hands squeezing your hips.

And she didn’t look away. She kept her eyes–so beautiful, so brave–on yours as she pressed her fingers inside of you. You gasped, arching your back into her, so happy, so relieved to have her inside you again. The toy was just that–a toy, a tool. Amelia was a goddess.

Amelia whined, too, planting sloppy kisses all over your neck, your collarbone, your chest. “I missed this,” Amelia huffed, high on the way your body pulsed around her, tight and desperate and already so close to the edge. “I missed you.” Her breath was hot on your skin, her lips red and puffy from colliding with yours so furiously.

You felt yourself barrelling toward the cliff of an orgasm and grabbed her arms for dear life. “Amy,” you moaned. “Amy, I’m gonna–”

She grinned as you fell apart, quaking and throbbing around her, your hips thrusting, back arching. But, then–something neither of you had expected or experienced before–a tiny stream of fluid, flooding out of your body. You cried out, coming harder than you’d ever come in your life, way too far gone, too lost in your orgasm, to think about what the hell was going on down there.

When you finally came down, Amelia stared at you, gaping–her face a mixture of shock, self-satisfaction, and pure, dumb happiness.

“Holy shit,” she said, biting her lip and bouncing a little.

You propped yourself up, alarmed at how wet the bed was. “Did I–”

“Yeah,” Amelia laughed, running her hands through her hair. “You sure did, baby. Holy shit.”

You stared at the wet spot. That had never happened before. You weren’t sure you liked it.

“Jesus,” you said, your eyebrows furrowed. “I–”

Amelia crashed her mouth into yours, wrapping her arms around your neck.

“Never,” she said, pulling away breathlessly, “let me say I’m too afraid to fuck you again. Never.”

“It’s okay if you are,” you assured her, running your hands up and down her back.

“Nope,” she argued, shaking her head. “If that’s on the table, trauma can suck it.”

You laughed and kissed her again, happy to have her body close to yours–with no inhibitions–once more.

*This is the toy, in case you’re wondering. 😉

#amelia shepherd #amelia shepherd x reader #amelia shepherd x fem!reader #amelia shepherd smut #amelia shepherd fluff #amelia shepherd drabble #amelia shepherd fanfic #grey's anatomy #grey's anatomy fanfic

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superblysubpar · 1 year

Text

masterlist | the music

Chapter Warnings: spoilers for the movie franchise Star Wars | mentions of the holiday Halloween being celebrated by others and reader enjoying it | Leigh is not my character creation, a shared character who @sweetsweetjellybean originally created & I put a little twist on for this story with her permission.

Sorry freaks, no smut this chapter - but the series is 18+ and so is my blog so skedaddle on out of here if you're not!

9.4k words | A/N: I can't begin to express my gratitude for those who've read this story & those that helped me get through writing it, especially my beta extraordinaire @sweetsweetjellybean and @loveshotzz for helping me break that pesky wall of self doubt and writer's block always. I have a big long A/N on the epilogue that's posting right after these two chapters with more sap. Thanks for being here, I love you immensely if you've made it this far from the beginning or you're just arriving 💛

In the movies, they like to make those big plot twists drag out for the protagonist to let it really sink in. Or maybe it's more for the viewers. Special effects, camera angles, flashbacks, and poignant music playing - all to make seconds feel much longer than they are.

In your experience, these plot twists are usually predictable. Of course that guy’s the villain, it was the best friend all along, he’s Luke’s father, et cetera, et cetera. You’re utterly baffled every time by a character’s lack of intuition to see it coming. You’ve booed at writing and acting and told yourself that in real life, it’s so different.

Sure, surprises happen. Reality does not care about predictability, the fragile state of the human heart, or what’s fair. You get that. People cheat, they make mistakes, they die, they lose - and there isn’t some fade-to-black-happy-ending guarantee when they do. There isn’t a countdown on the bottom of a screen letting you know there’s still time left to make it all back from whatever happened, no assurance that it’ll all work out.

To call something real - something happening directly to you - a plot twist, seems horribly wrong though. Is there another word for it? Those moments that manage to catch you off guard, that come without warning or a build up. Moments that hit you repeatedly like a knife to a chest in a slasher flick. Or feel like the instant demise of oxygen leaving your lungs as a door opens to space. That sucker-punch from a red glove to the jaw when you think you’ve just won the big fight.

What do you call that shit?

Robin’s voice is an echo, muffled and distorted as if you’re deep underwater. “Oh my god, hi! Wow, you are so much prettier than Steve mentioned.”

Who is with Steve?

Robin keeps going, putting her entire foot in her mouth, oblivious to the way Steve’s eyes haven’t left yours. You only stop staring yourself, after what feels like hours, to finally take in their intertwined hands as Robin babbles. “Wait, I mean…no, see…alright, he told us you were pretty is what I’m trying to say, but like you’re even prettier…”

Who the hell is with Steve?

Her laugh cuts through the fog and your eyes finally focus on the woman attached to the sound.

She’s pretty, just like Robin keeps saying over and over again.

Dark, shiny hair, piercing eyes that you can see - even from this distance - are a hazel to almost match his. A hypnotizing smile, curves and a confidence radiating off of her… everything you wish you were but aren’t.

She laughs again, assuring Robin she gets it (in an infuriatingly humble way), introducing herself as Leigh Kensington.

Nancy perks up at the name when Robin gasps and shouts, “Oh my god! Nance!” Robin looks back, waving her over, “Just like Legally Blonde!” Her voice attempts to lower as she sighs to Leigh, “She loves Reese Witherspoon. It is Vivian Kensington right?” The question louder and directed at Nancy again. Robin doesn’t even take a breath to let her answer though, “Which is hilarious because Steve’s mom’s name is Vivian and you’re dating Steve and you work in legal, right? And-“

Emerald glass shatters around your feet as the bottle of beer falls from your hand, the sharp shards scatter quickly, too broken to ever be put back together. Your legs turn to lead and muscles are no longer in communication with your brain as it finally makes the connection to what you’re seeing and hearing and what that means for you.

“Shit! Jesus, woman-“ Eddie jumps back from you as the glass skirts across the pavement further.

Robin finally turns in your direction at the commotion, her brows knit together in worry. Face progressively getting more concerned as it tightens. Her hand lets a bean bag fall to the board with an echoing thump. “Hey, you look-“

Not waiting to hear the end of her sentence, you will your legs to work and spin, taking off in search of literally any place that isn’t there. Your feet pound against the pavement, thuds that vibrate through the rubber of your soles all the way up to your eardrums.

It’s seconds, less than a minute, and it’s as if the entire stadium - hell, your entire world - has spun upside down. Roars to your left, the rumbling of fan’s excitement from the nosebleeds down to the field mingle and harmonize with the rapid beating in your chest. As you keep running with no real destination other than away, your shoulders bump stranger’s, meeting their frowns and scoffs with whispered and rushed apologies. The familiar sting behind your eyes forms, eyelashes growing damp as you suck in a sharp breath. No more running, you need somewhere to hide.

You’re not going to cry about this. You’re not. How could you be so stupid? How could you let this happen?

The familiar long line all women are accustomed to grabs your attention and you’re off again. Disgruntled and shouted annoyance from everyone in line echoes across the dull gray tile as you rush past them, yelling something about an emergency. You slam a turquoise door, sliding the silver latch with shaking fingers as your forehead rests on the cold material of the stall. You focus on breathing through your nose and out your mouth, this is fine. You’re fine.

A buzz in your pocket once, twice, and then a third time, and you don’t have to pull your phone out to know they’re texts from him. Despite your better judgment, you look:

It buzzes a fourth time and you lock the phone, debating just chucking it into the toilet.

The sleeve of your sweatshirt presses to your mouth as you clear your throat. No tears are falling for him, not today, not ever.

You hate Steve Harrington.

This was always the plan.

You hate Steve Harrington.

It’s not like you were in love with the guy.

Even as you think it, the panic turns to defense inside of yourself - scrounging around for rocks and bricks, reinforcing the wall around your heart you had started to let crumble for a boy you thought was worth it.

“Girl, what the hell?”

A familiar pair of red converse with writing and doodles covering any space they can, mirror your feet at the base of the stall. You step back, fingers hovering over the latch, ready to tell her it’s fine. Robin isn’t an idiot though, and you’re certain that despite your denial, she’ll take one look at you and make you spill your guts.

Her feet move closer, the familiar clink of rings meeting metal hits your ears, letting you know she’s pressing her palms to the door. Robin’s voice is softer and for one brief, horrible moment, you think she knows. “Are you okay? What’s going on?”

The guilt that’s hovered over you for months like a storm cloud, releases, engulfing you completely, the promise of sunlight no longer on the horizon. Funny how just hours ago, you were thinking about Robin finally knowing, about how she couldn’t be mad, not when you were both so happy. Your gut twists. You’ve lied to your friend for so long, and for what?

“Just, um, cramps.” The lies keep on building, pushing at the dam you’ve created to keep it all from her. You’re just buying time now, the pressure is going to reach its breaking point soon and you’re worried your friendship with Robin will be washed away when it does.

At the mention of cramps, the disgruntled voices of those in line turn to understanding - muted solidarity in the form of tampon and painkiller offerings.

“Robin, why don’t you grab her some food or something? Maybe a ginger ale? I’ve got stuff in my bag and we’ll meet you all out there,” another familiar voice suggests.

“But I can-“

“That would be really great, Robs,” you interrupt her protest, pushing out the words to sound as eager as you can.

A pair of white tennis shoes sneak between Robin’s and the stall door - like Nancy is trying to put space between the two of you, shielding her girlfriend from any more of your lies.

“Okay, if you’re sure,” Robin starts hesitantly, “I saw this gourmet grilled cheese stand thing and-“

“No!” Fingers curling over your mouth at the severity of your interruption, you take a beat before quietly continuing, “Uh, um, actually, just some chips please?”

Your eyes close, willing the memory of your last grilled cheese away. Now is not the time to remember the man you shared it with.

How he looked at you.

How he asked you to open up, how it made you feel when he said he knew you.

How he kissed you.

You hate Steve Harrington.

The initial shock has stopped sizzling and is now a full burn, anger releasing over your frazzled nerves. What else has Steve claimed, what other things could be ruined when all you can do is relate them to him? But as quickly as the anger for him forms, you have to glance down and realize there are three fingers pointing back at yourself.

Why did you give him the opening?

“Roger that, kitten!”

You’re sure she gives a salute to your closed stall door, the red sneakers turning on their heels, her footsteps fading away. The pristine white of Nancy’s twist slightly towards the door. Her voice is quiet as she asks, “Can I come in there?”

Clearing your throat once more, you try to brush her off, “Nancy, really, I’m fi-“

“Bullshit.”

Maybe it’s the way she says the word - that a girl you don’t know all that well can see through your lies, be so sure you’re not fine. Maybe it’s because you desperately wish that you could have opened the door for Robin, to leave the football game and go drown in margaritas and dissect every little thing that led to this moment and let her tell you it was all going to be okay and boys are stupid. Or maybe, it’s the fact that you’ll never get to do that, never allowed to tell Robin, that makes you slide the latch unlocked for Nancy Wheeler.

She slips in quickly, her brown curls that are clipped in a half up-do bounce as she tilts her head quizzically at you. Her arms cross over the embroidered team logo on her sweatshirt, her blue eyes peer directly into your soul. She’s got this way about looking at you that, without saying anything, makes you want to tell her everything. An energy radiates off of Nancy, a quiet curiosity bubbling under the surface - or perhaps it’s frustration. You’re being studied, a puzzle she can’t crack.

Her lips twist as she clearly debates her words before she finally settles on a simple, “You didn’t know?”

Nancy’s question makes your stomach drop, solidifying that she not only knows about you and Steve, but that Leigh is not a new or unknown development. Your mind swirls to their argument on the beach, Nancy finding you in the bathroom - how long has Steve been seeing Leigh?

“No,” your response comes out in a half laugh, trying to cover up any feelings that attempt to sneak out and reveal too much. The toe of your sneaker scuffs at a knick in the tile as you avoid her eyes.

She tucks a curl behind her ear and sighs. Her face pinches into that quizzical look again, huffing, “He’s an idiot.”

Rolling your eyes, you shake your head. You don’t want to dwell on how she connected the dots about you and Steve or how you’ve all been lying to Robin, and you especially don’t want her pity. “Nancy, I really don’t need you to comfort me. I’m fine. Can we just go?”

At the clamp of Nancy’s mouth shutting and the purse of her lips, you regret the icy tone almost immediately. Squeezing your eyes closed, you try again. “I’m sorry, I’m just…” trailing off because where do you even start? You’re mad, hurt, confused, blind-sided, the list could go on and on and you don’t care to reach the end at this moment. You force a smile, changing the subject all together, “Don’t you want to get out there and hear how incredibly little Robin truly knows about sports?”

Nancy’s lips twitch and her arms drop to her sides with a sigh. “Right, well, if you change your mind, I like to think I’m a pretty good listener if you ever want to talk about anything.”

Sometimes, people say things to say things - like they feel as if they’re supposed to say a certain thing when a certain situation calls for it. One look at the kindness in Nancy’s eyes, the small smile on her lips, and you know that is not the case right now. She genuinely, truly means she’s there to listen if you need it. Despite lying to all of them, despite barely knowing her, and the realization has tears forming behind your eyes for an entirely different reason than earlier.

“Thanks,” the word leaves you quietly. It feels small and inconsequential in return for a gesture you’re not even sure Nancy realizes the weight of.

That is, until she turns from the door, her hand hovering over the latch as she faces you again. “I should mention though, that one of you is going to have to tell Robin. Sooner rather than later. And I make no promises it won’t be me, but she should hear it from one of you.” Her tone is adamant with absolutely no room for arguing.

Your guilt tugs you down harder now, only able to nod in response.

Nancy’s head bobs once in return, silently agreeing to drop the subject unless you bring it up again, and she leads the way out of the bathroom.

You hear Robin before you see them. She’s passionately arguing her case about a new musical group that Eddie is scoffing at. Leigh holds her hand up at Eddie’s argument and begins agreeing with Robin, who beams before sticking her tongue out at him.

“Hey.”

The word freezes you and Nancy clears her throat as she makes her way towards the others. Steve pushes off from the brick wall as you turn to face him.

You’ve seen many looks in his eyes before now. When they glint with mischief and charm as he flirts, how they soften as you tell a story. When they’ve turned darker as clothes are shed and they get to roam freely over your body, taking you in like an artwork. How they seem to melt like honey all over you when you’ve found them staring and they don’t care to appear ashamed he’s been caught.

Now, they’re looking at you with far too much pain behind them that doesn’t seem fair. He shouldn’t get to look at you like that, he shouldn’t get to look sad.

Steve extends his hand, a green can with beads of condensation running down the sides of it in his palm. You ignore how your fingers touch and they way his try to linger as you take the soda from him.

When you don’t say anything, he pulls the sleeves of his maroon sweater over his fingers, the toe of his boot scuffing the pavement as his brows meet in the middle. Several pieces of hair fall over his forehead that’s wrinkled with concern, letting you know he’s run his hands through it too many times to have already broken whatever products he’s put in it.

“Can we go somewhere and talk for a sec?”

A sec.

A quick conversation, one he just wants to get over with. To tell you what? Things you’ve already concluded from his surprise today? That he’s with someone. He wants to stay friends. He never felt the way you were starting to feel for him. This was always the plan.

You’re not interested in anything Steve has to say any more.

“Game’s about to start, Harrington, maybe later.” Your tone is clipped and short, smile forced.

His brows pinch closer together as he tilts his head, the harsh line of his jaw flexing. “Really? Cause the way you ran off and that tone could have fooled me.”

“I’m fine, I don’t know exactly what you’re hearing, but if you have something you’d like to say, by all means Steve, let’s hear it.”

Steve closes his eyes and a long breath leaves his nose, “Please-“ his plea is cut off by her.

“Hi, I’m Leigh. It’s so nice to meet you, Steven’s told me so much about you! I hope everything is okay? Everyone was so worried…”

She reaches forward, arms wrapping around you and your stiffening body.

She’s fucking hugging you.

“Uh, yeah, you…too. And yes, thanks, I’m fine. This will help.” Untangling yourself from her, you hold up the can and force another smile. “Thanks Steven.”

Leigh beams at him, grabbing his hand and you just can’t help yourself, turning to him again. “Actually, Steven was just letting me know he had something to tell me, what was so important, buddy?”

Eddie coughs as Steve narrows his eyes. Nancy claps her hands, interrupting the tension filled moment, “Alright, ready guys?”

Robin points towards the bleachers. “I’m ready for tip off! To our seats!”

Nancy gives you a look, some sort of attempt at bringing light to the moment in front of her, before she wraps her hand around Robin’s arm and starts to walk away. “It’s kick off, hun.”

Leigh laughs as Robin lets out a long ‘Oh’, Steve and her following. When Steve glances back over his shoulder at you, the full can of soda meets the trash as you turn towards Eddie. Stealing the fresh beer from his hands, the plastic cup tips to your lips, foam slowing you down as you chug.

“Woah, woah, woah! Easy killer.” Eddie tugs on the cup, pulling it from your mouth. “From my understanding, football games are long and we need to pace ourselves. Stevie is not worth a two in the afternoon black out.”

Your mouth opens to protest and he waves his hand in front of your face, “Ah, ah, ah, you can squeeze my fingers or something whenever you feel like punching him instead.”

“Ed-“ you begin, adamant you need another drink (or twenty) to deal with the day you’re about to have.

He begins to walk away, waving his hand dismissively, “No really, I’m a secret masochist, I’ll love it.”

Your eyes narrow, hating the way your lips fight a smile that wants to meet his mood. Despite everything, you’re grateful for him and Nancy. Unsure of how to even attempt to show them how much you appreciate them. Especially after Nancy’s reminder that someone was going to have to tell Robin eventually, and these two had been lying for the both of you, keeping your secret when they didn’t need to.

Up ahead, you hear Leigh laugh, catching her head thrown back and his smile, the squeeze of her fingers on his bicep and you gulp. Your feet plant to the ground harder and you tug on Eddie’s wrist. As the group rounds the corner, heading to their seats, he turns to look at you with his eyebrows raised.

Eddie must see something in your expression because he mumbles, “Such a fucking idiot,” before he turns to the nearest vendor. “Yeah, hi, I need four very large beers. And I’m talking take your idea of large and triple it.”

This time the smile wins just a little. It’s quick to fall though, when Eddie taps his cup to one he hands you and proclaims, “If you can’t date ‘em, drink about ‘em. To the losers who break our hearts.”

“I-“ ready to tell him that’s not it at all, but his look makes your mouth close.

You don’t say it out loud, you don’t dare to speak it into existence - Eddie is wrong. You’re not broken hearted, you’re just mad Steve didn’t tell you. You’re mad that clearly they all knew, so why not you? That’s all.

Your cup taps Eddie’s again and you let the beer wash away the bitter taste in your mouth.

Screw Steve Harrington.

As the third cup of cheap beer hits your lips, you risk a glance down the line of your row again. Immediately regretting it like you have every other time. Leigh pushes the loose strand of hair on his forehead back and your eyes return to the field quickly. You’re sure your skin is turning just as green as the artificial turf, the beer making it a little easier to admit to yourself that you are jealous of the intimate moment. Your gut twinges slightly at the remembrance of only a few short weeks ago when you purposely tried to make him feel what you are now. You have no right to be mad at him.

The players blur as they move in an intricate dance only they know before anyone else. You’ve always liked sports, but today has been a good reminder as to why. Players and teams practice and memorize skills and plays that work - but there’s no guarantees. They need intuition to know when to use certain moves, to have a good defense and follow their gut and deviate from the plan when they think the other team is pulling a new play.

It’s all predictable, but not at the same time. Risks and playing with the odds, yet revolving around something incredibly low stakes like a ball in a net or getting past a painted line on fake grass. It’s also realistic. Sure, there are once in a lifetime passes like the Minnesota Miracle or a ball sinking into the net from a distance unfathomable as the final buzzer sounds - but most of the time, it’s just about who’s the best that day. Who ran faster, who slipped through someone else’s mistake. You like that the players can pour themselves into it and it’s still not going to be a win every time, because it’s just not sometimes, and that’s okay. They lose and they get up and they do it all over again. They also know that if they win, it doesn’t mean they’ll keep doing so without hard work and dedication.

Poetic to your circumstances, really. Steve was just better at the game, and you knew the eventual outcome of your deal with each other. So really, is there anyone to be mad at here other than yourself?

Steve’s laugh echoes down the line and your jaw clenches, because maybe Steve was better at the game, but he certainly wasn’t playing fair.

Yeah, you can still be mad at him.

Your eye twitches as Robin and Leigh gush over horror movies they both love, a breath you didn’t know you were holding leaving you when they head off together for a bathroom break.

His eyes actually burn your cheek from the way they stare down the row in your direction now that he doesn’t have her to focus on. Clear to you now that all you are - all you ever were - is an afterthought, something to pass the time.

Refusing to look his way, you try not to feel bad about the sigh you hear all the way from five seats away.

Oh, I’m sorry Steve, are you mildly upset that I don’t want to talk to you after you got me to open up just to blindside me?

You’re not surprised when a dark denim leg presses against your shoulder, his large brown boots landing on the open seat next to you as he climbs over. As he sits, you stand, quickly making your way down the row, occupying Robin’s empty seat on the other side of Nancy.

Steve stands, hands on his hips as he frowns. “Are you being fucking serious right now?”

Turning your attention back to the field, your knees bounce with restless energy, anticipating his next move. An intricate dance just like the players below you.

Steve climbs back over, and you can’t help but relish a little in his groan and mumbled comment about being twelve under his breath as you shimmy between Eddie and Nancy, shoving Eddie into your old seat, ignoring his grunted protests. Unable to help yourself, you smirk into your beer, watching out of the corner of your eye as Steve’s jaw clenches. Making him irritated seems only fair under the circumstances.

You’re ready for his next attempt, sure he’s going to make Nancy swap with him or come up behind you. So when he puts his foot on the chair, you move to the edge of your seat. Steve pounces, tumbling over the back of the row in front of you instead. He’s breathless, cheeks flushed pink as his hands land on the armrests of your spot. His arms cage you in as he leans over the back of the blue metal chairs, ignoring the grumbled complaints of those he bumped out of the way in his pursuit.

His face fills your vision, freckles that dot the sharp slope of his nose, the light scruff he’s let grow more highlight’s the angle of his jaw and the curve of his cupid’s bow. For a second you forget you’re supposed to be mad when you finally meet his eyes. They steal all of your attention and you hate that you can’t look away.

You hate him.

“We’re gonna talk,” he huffs, catching his breath.

“You should hit the gym.” A sad attempt to change the subject, to hurt him a little. Your eyes flit down to his lips in a mistake. You can’t look at his eyes again so you settle on his cheek, trying your best to ignore the endearing pair of freckles.

“I know you’re mad, and if you just let me explain, I-“

“You’ve had plenty of chances to explain before today Steve!”

The hush of the people around you makes your eyes close, taking a moment for a calming breath. Eddie coughs into his fist on your left and squints at the field, Nancy scratches the denim on her thigh and clears her throat on your right.

Steve’s eyes narrow, his top lip pulls in, tongue licking over it before he lets out a cold laugh, “Jesus Christ, what was I supposed to do, tell you while we’re fucking? Or how about after you told me about your parents? I-“

The beer in your hand splashes across his face as he coughs and sputters. His fingers wipe over his eyes and you stand, pushing past the gawking crowd and down the stairs.

Nancy and Eddie were right.

Steve Harrington is a fucking idiot.

You’d rode the train past your stop twice, both your airpods in and a look about you that dared anyone to even glance at you the wrong way. At the sight of the sun sinking past the horizon, you bite down on your cheek, willing your gut to stop twisting as it attaches a thing you love to him. Steve Harrington was not going to ruin sunsets for you, you draw the line at fucking grilled cheese and football.

The flick of your entryway lamp illuminates your place, the lyrics “You call me strawberry wine…” drift out of your airpod as you remove it from your ear. You’ve had enough of the universe’s poetic irony today. Tossing the case and your keys into their dish as you turn the lock on your door.

The sunset is the least of your worries, what didn’t he touch here? Your door, the coffee mugs he proclaimed as his favorites, the counter, the fire escape. You reach for the bottle of wine on top of your fridge as you click on the Instagram notification.

A caption reading ‘We just hope both teams had fun🏈 ’ below her photos. A selfie first, Robin’s bashful face filling the screen, getting her cheek kissed by Nancy. Another, this one with you - she must have caught it during bags - a shot of Eddie and you mid-laugh. The last one clearly taken after you left, the group in the stands, Steve’s sweater gone, replaced by a dry light blue t-shirt. You click your phone locked again and drink straight out of the bottle as you walk down the dark hallway. Old wood floors creak underneath your feet as you make your way to your room.

Fuck, your room.

It’s a moment that perhaps you should be crying during, do normal people cry when boys like Steve Harrington blindside them? When a man you start to break down for was spooning you fully clothed at the start of the day and getting a beer tossed in his face by the end, shouldn’t some sort of despair come out in the form of dramatic tears? Nothing leaves your eyes though as you strip the sheets off of your bed. Steve’s not worth any. No guy is.

Tugging harshly at the last corner of the fitted sheet with a frustrated grunt, you throw all of your bedding out into the hallway and slam the door. The flutter of paper on your desk as the door swings closed catches your eye, your chest tightens at the realization of what you left there.

The glow from the setting sun outside washes over the photobooth strip as you walk towards it, lit up in a perfect square of tangerine. Your thumb brushes the last photo as you pick it up, wondering how it all went so wrong, so fast.

It rips easier than maybe it should have, diminished to something small and as broken as you can make it before you toss it in the trash in your bathroom. Your eyes linger on the shower curtain and then your shampoo. The wine bottle presses to your lips again as you make a mental note, adding those to your list of things to replace tomorrow as well.

Your phone pings again, the group chat you’ve just been recently added to:

Your thumb presses the lock after turning it to silent, the dots from Robin appearing letting you know you don’t want to keep reading all of them talk. Your bare mattress stares at you as you drink more wine. They’re home. Together? In his apartment? In his bed?

It doesn’t matter, good for Steve, hope he’s happy. Good fucking riddance, right?

Opening your bedroom door, you sigh at the pile of bedding, stepping over it and making your way to your couch. Your protective wall is still standing, your armor dusted off and polished once more. It’s time to pick up the pieces, replace what’s broken, and move on from what others like Eddie may want to tell you is heartbreak, but you would argue is just called life.

And life is pain, and anyone who tells you differently is selling something, right?

Halloween season used to be one of your favorite times of the year. Parties and opportunities to dress up like someone you’re not. Evenings to be a character in a story far different than the one you were living, with lines already planned for you to say, an ending meticulously thought out. Now, however, the red fabric that clings to your body serves only as a reminder of how your life is the furthest thing from picture perfect.

Originally, when you found the dress thrifting with Robin, it had felt a little like fate. A tiny and gentle nudge from the universe in the right direction - a sign. Now, you’re sure it was actually some twisted joke. Someone, somewhere out there, is laughing it up as they play with you like a plastic doll. Because even meeting Robin, a thing you were positive was divine intervention, is now wrapped around him. Some evil force at work as they had you meet her, then him, while they cackled and said ‘Ha! Watch this! This one’ll be good.’

Your costume now a cruel oxymoron - a girl who resents love dressed as someone who cherishes it. Pretending to be a girl who loved a boy endlessly, so devoted, she claimed to die the day he supposedly did. A girl who-

“You know,” a finger pokes your cheek, “For a princess, your sour look is not very princessey.”

Robin raises her eyebrows at you, hands on her hips, orange fabric of her skirt swishing around her thighs as she turns. Her sparkly red turtleneck and shine of her black mary jane’s glint in the strobe lights that are making sweeps over the room.

You try to smile, if only for the fact that Nancy actually got her to wear the costume. Crossing your arms, your eyebrows raise as you respond, “Well, you must be a detective or something, Miss Dinkley.”

Robin rolls her eyes, but fights a smile, fiddling with the magnifying glass in her hands. When you don’t say anything more though, her big blue eyes soften as they glance up at you through fake glasses, and she reaches out and squeezes your shoulder. “Seriously, is everything okay? I feel like…” she trails off, shaking her head, at a loss for words it seems - an unusual thing for her.

The line for the bar shifts forward and you nod, that terrible feeling still sits heavy in your stomach like a bag of rocks - you’re weighed down, to be left at the bottom of your guilt to drown. “I’m fine, Robin,” it slips out when you repeat the words quieter, because maybe if you say it enough times it’ll come true, “I’ll be fine.”

“Aha!” She points a finger in your face, “You just said be fine, implying something is in fact not fine currently and-“

“Robin,” your laugh is unconvincing even to yourself. You rub your temples as you face the bar. “Quit being a meddling kid.”

It’s supposed to be a joke, but it comes out with a little more bite than you intend and her mouth shuts quickly. It’s silent for only a few seconds though, before her shoulder bumps yours. Her question quiet, “How long were you waiting to use that one?”

Your head rests against her shoulder in a silent ‘I’m sorry’, hers against yours in an equally unspoken ‘You’re forgiven’ as you sigh. “Oh, just since you put on the costume.”

She hums and then lifts her head and faces you. “Last thing, and then I’ll drop it, I swear.”

Facing her, you swallow harshly as she stares at you with eyes that feel like they can see everything. Even more so when she says, “I know we haven’t known each other that long, but you’re important to me. And if there’s something going on…” she trails off before smiling sadly and continuing, “You can tell me, okay? You can open up and I’ll probably talk too much and offer too much advice, but comes from a place of love and-“

You hug her tightly, Robin wraps her arms around you just as fiercely as her sentence breaks off. Your response sticks in your throat, an alarming hope of ‘what if I told her?’ rising in you that you need to squash down quickly. She can’t know, despite Nancy’s warning that she should. If she did find out, you’re not certain she’d be on your side anyways. It was all your idea to lie to her, it’s selfish of you to ask her to comfort you in this situation.

Especially after you made her practically drag you to the party tonight. Eventually giving into her puppy dog pout (for a girl who easily falls for it, she has a pretty convincing one herself), your guilt all but consuming you at this point. You could put on a smile, a brave face - you could pretend to be someone you’re not, just tonight, and just for her.

You haven’t seen Steve since the football game, ignoring any sort of notification related to him in your phone. But in the process of trying to remove anything Steve from your life, you’ve removed Robin from it as well - a packaged deal. Each ignored message, each call you watched ring and left unanswered, every dodged lunch, were just more punches to your gut, pieces of your heart ripped off and stepped on. You missed Robin so much, one night out, forced to make small talk with him, was a fair price to pay for the deceit and lies - if it meant you got to see her again.

When you break away from the hug, it’s your turn for the bar finally. Both of your eyes widen at the sight of the specialty drink menu. ‘Bootini’s’ and things like a cocktail called ‘Vampire Kiss’ making both of you frown at the dollar signs next to each. You’re suddenly grateful for the tequila that’s still filling your stomach with warmth and Eddie’s insistence on taking the shots before leaving Nancy’s.

“They do have like, a regular bar, right? Cause your girl is on a budget and…” your sentence trails off as Robin smiles at something, someone, over your shoulder.

“Well, there isn’t much money in revenge.”

His voice alone is enough to make your shoulders go up, to cause your stomach to twist, but when you spin to see him, you know it’s not the tequila making the room feel fuzzy and your stomach heave.

He can’t be serious.

He is not wearing that. He’s not.

“Come up with that all by yourself, did ya?” Robin pats Steve’s shoulder and before he can reply she’s holding up a hand in front of his face, letting out a low whistle. “Hoolly cooww.” She motions for Leigh to spin who blushes and laughs, but obliges as Robin keeps going, “Miss Morticia Addams, if you wanna ditch Dingus here…”

Steve puts his hands on his hips, an edge to his tone you may have found amusing if it wasn’t because of his best friend hitting on his girlfriend. “Seriously, Robin? Are you being serious right now? Where’s Nancy?”

Robin rolls her eyes at him and Leigh laughs more, squeezing his shoulder. “I should be the one saying holy cow! Look at you two! Y/N, where did you find that dress?”

God, you hate that she’s nice.

Her dress is phenomenal. The low cut, black fabric that hugs her curves and drapes over her flattering in a way it simply wouldn’t be on you. She’s got the perfect gauzy sleeves, the rings and red lips and nails, she’s even got a rose and scissors in her hand.

You hate that you want to like this girl.

Your smile is tense, “I, uh-“

The bartender clears her throat and you point, saved by the bell, turning your back on the group. A name of one of the drinks leaves your lips and you’re vaguely aware of Robin saying something about finding the others and to not order her something with whiskey in it because he remembers what happened last time.

The deep breathing through your nose is a sad attempt for composure when you get a longer chance to take Steve in. Even with the dim bar lighting, the mirror behind the shelf of various liquors gives you a perfect view. You’re not sure whether you want to kiss him or punch him.

Steve’s dressed in all black, head to toe, the v-cut of the flowy top revealing quite a bit of his dark chest hair and you swallow, your fingers gripping the edge of the counter. You always hated how Buttercup couldn’t tell it was Westley, in fact, you hate it in any movie when a character has a mask over their eyes and suddenly everyone is unable to tell who they’re dancing with, hell who’s kissing them. If anything, the black band of fabric across his face only makes the lips below and the eyes underneath it stand out more - the curve of his top lip you can still feel under your tongue. The colors of his iris’ so distinctly Steve that you’d recognize anywhere - instead of a sea after a storm, a forest. He really went all out, even his scruff shaved to have a thin mustache, he’s wearing the black cap pushing down his normally styled and perfectly messy hair, and when you glance down, you’re not surprised to find matching pirate boots standing next to you.

His hand reaches across your chest with a matte black card - that kind that isn’t glossy like a normal one and you quickly hand the bartender crumpled bills instead, earning a sigh from Steve.

“You’re not seriously wearing that.” Weeks of no contact, and you hate that your voice doesn’t come out strong and confident when that’s all you can think to say.

Risking a glance his way, you find his eyes are already on you, his jaw clenching before he asks, “What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?”

Your inhale is sharp - how can he be this cruel? How can he act like that costume means nothing, or like the last few weeks weren’t awful? Weren’t they awful for him? To go from talking almost every day to nothing?

“Are you fucking kidding me Steve? After everything, after what you said at the game, you’re really gonna stick to not admitting what this is?” Gesturing up and down his body as you ask. He truly can’t be this much of an asshole, he can’t-

Steve shrugs. “I’m just a pirate. I don’t know what your problem is.”

Turns out, he can be.

Before you can even start to formulate something nasty to respond with, a person walking by shouts out, “Oh nice! As you wish, dudes!” Clapping Steve’s shoulder as they waltz past like it’s the 90’s and people still say ‘dudes’ to strangers.

Dude did just make your point for you at least, though.

You hold your hands out to the retreating body in a show of ‘see?’ and then childishly flip Steve off. “The case rests, your honor.”

“It was last minute and I didn’t-”

His weak and pathetic attempts at excuses fall on deaf ears as you push your way through the crowd towards the beacon of red neon announcing an exit for this god forsaken bar.

Maybe it’s the tequila talking, but you don’t think it is - screw Steve Harrington for ruining a fucking bar, for ruining the word dude, for ruining The Princess Bride, for ruining everything.

Screw everything.

The sting of rejection and the quiet anger that’s been sitting at a simmer since the game rests over an open flame now. Your insides quickly grow to a rapid boil. Apathy and anger rage for the top spot as everything you’ve tried to keep under a lid steams, ready to overflow and burn.

Ignoring the calls of your name, something still makes it past your seeing red rampage of an exit, connecting the voices, aware of Steve saying something to someone, but you can’t really find it in yourself to care who or what. The cool air hits your body as you push outside, stinging against the damp skin under your eyes.

A hand on your shoulder makes you jump, his voice quiet, “Y/N-“

“Don’t touch me, Steve,” you warn, taking a step backwards after yanking your shoulder from under his fingers. Your hands balled into fists as you spin to look at him.

He runs a hand through his now uncovered hair, face fully revealed without a mask too. He watches you closely, his voice gentle, as he raises his hands up, “Look, I just want to make sure you’re okay. You can-“

“You don’t get to check on me anymore, or worry about if I’m okay, you’re not my boyfriend,” your tone scathing.

Steve’s gaze bounces over your face, his jaw hardens as the vein in his forehead dances. Somehow his voice is soft despite the bite to it, “Yeah, I know. You’ve made that perfectly clear. But I am your friend, and I -“

Your laugh causes him to break off. You gesture inside and then to his outfit. “Friends don’t treat each other this way, Steve.”

He drags his palms down his face, his own disbelieving laugh echoes against the brick of the bar. “Are you kidding me? I have been nothing but your friend! I am sorry about what I said at the game, but really, when was I supposed to tell you? And this costume…I…” He shakes his head, licking his lips as he takes a step closer to you. “Look. I should have told you about Leigh sooner, but if you would have given me five minutes to-“

“Five minutes. A sec.” Your hands move in quotation marks as you recall the conversation he wanted to have at the game too. Your face pinches into an irritated scowl as your hands drop in front of you, palms open. Exasperation laced around your words, “What the fuck is there to explain anymore, Harrington? You’re dating her and you didn’t tell me - the story is over.”

Steve stands just in front of you now, that gravitational pull at silent work again, even weeks apart unable to switch it off. Your bodies move with each other, your voices rise in sync, your chests fall with shared breaths. A different sidewalk, that same feeling of flight or fight, but you know that it’s too late this time. Even turning the heat off isn’t going to fix the damage that’s been done.

Another laugh huffs out of him, “You’d like that, right? That’s it, case closed. Y/N calls the shots and decides everything.” He shakes his head and points to his chest, towering over you, “This is all such total bullshit. You’re mad at me for something that was your idea, because you didn’t get to decide when it was over.” He shrugs, waves of nonchalance carrying his words through the air to hit you hard like a slap across the face. “You’re a spoiled brat who’s mad because you’ve lost a toy.”

Any maturity you attempted to have towards the situation has evaporated.

“Me? The spoiled brat? Excuse me, Mr. 50th floor and Daddy’s Credit Card. Take a look in the fucking mirror, Steve!”

Your chests almost touch with each ragged breath as his hands run through his hair and he pulls. A frustrated groan at your words, while the volume at which his come out becomes louder, “I’ve got plenty of fucking mirrors, why don’t you take your own advice! You’re a hypocrite. You can’t even admit it to yourself, can you? Tell me I’m wrong! Tell me you didn’t ask me for this arrangement. Tell me that the words ‘no feelings’ and ‘just sex’ didn’t leave your mouth. Tell me what you have to be upset with me for then!”

Your chin quivers at his words, the truth of them daring the tears behind your eyes to fall.

Steve gulps, his fingers dance on your jaw, thumb brushing your cheek. His eyes shine with his own held back tears, like he regrets how he said it but not that he did. His voice quiets as he pleads, “Tell me.”

He doesn’t get to look at you like that. He doesn’t get to say those things to you and then look at you like that.

What happened last time Steve Harrington asked you to open up and tell him something?

Tequila lingers on your tongue, aiding in the formation of words that are meant to sting - you want to hurt him like he’s hurting you. You bite down on your jaw, the anger and pain ready to fall down your cheeks as you remove yourself from him.

Your hands press against his chest, “You’re bullshit. This is bullshit.” A small shove as you practically growl the next words, “I’m a hypocrite? How about the fucking bathroom at that party where you told me I couldn’t have it both ways, but then you’re dating someone while getting all jealous?” Another shove, this time his fingers brush your wrists, a halfhearted attempt to get you to stop. “Begging me to open up to you? For fucking what, Steve? This costume? You…” you close your eyes and let your hands drop, letting the words do all the work now, “You’re a liar. You’re an asshole.”

Steve’s head ducks down, his fingers brushing his nose before he rolls his shoulders back. When his mouth opens, you step backwards, shaking your head.

“Lose my number, Steve.”

His eyes roam over your face, waiting, searching. He only nods once and takes his own step back.

“As you wish.”

Your breath sucks in sharply, a sob you’ve been holding in since the moment he said the words ‘Sorry we’re late’ threatens to finally crack out of your chest. You wish you had another beer to toss in his face for using those words at this moment.

It’s not said with the kind of reverence of the movie. There isn’t a narrator to let you know what he actually means by the phrase. But you know. It’s not an ‘I love you’, not like this. No, it’s merely a promise to do as you asked.

All you can do is turn away from him, hold your chin up and roll your shoulders back as you walk down the sidewalk.

There is no hopeful glance back over your shoulder, no loud smacks against the pavement made by his feet chasing after you like in the movies.

Like you said, your story is over.

'One New Voicemail':

“Hey, just thought I’d try ya, I know you’ve been busy. Um, well, Steve and I are heading to the Rocky Horror show tonight and I know he’d love someone to aid in his teasing of how totally into it I get. Right Steve?”

[muffled sounds of movement and whispers]

“Hm…yeah, I uh-”

[a clear smack to his shoulder]

“It feels like forever since I’ve seen you or we’ve done something just the three of us! Anyways, call me back, text me…beep me if you wanna reach me…ugh, sorry that was so lame, okay bye. Love you!”

If you were surviving before them, you could survive without them. It seemed simple enough.

You’ve never stayed in one place for long, friendships like Robin, Eddie, and Nancy had been left before. Friendships that were never given a chance to really even start before you were gone. The promise of any relationships packed into boxes and off to the next city. Addresses and phone numbers and notes of ‘Keep in touch’ left to collect dust until forgotten about completely.

So, it should have been easy to continue to ignore their messages. To ignore the holes in your chest, to ignore the want to call or text one of them when something happened as mundane as a stranger calling another stranger ‘toots’ in your mailroom. If Steve touched things in your life and now caused them to wilt in your memories and sights, the other three made things bloom. They breathed life into you again.

You weren’t going to let Steve Harrington take something like that away from you.

Which is why you found yourself curled into your father’s sweater for courage, walking down the sidewalk towards the cemetery with a promise to meet them there.

Orange and brown leaves crinkle underfoot before they blow across the pavement. The moon is full, the sky that deep indigo it seems to only get this time of year. Both a perfect backdrop for the bare trees that dance in the wind and the blocks lined with homes with glowing porch lights. Orange buckets overflowing with candy rush past in a blur, laughter and squeals of children echoing down the street past you.

As you make it to the black iron fence, your eyes roam the blankets and patrons occupying them in the park next to the cemetery. Apple and brown sugar meet your nose and you take special note of the mini donut booth attached to the scent. Which is where you see Eddie, shoving two in his mouth and rolling his eyes at Nancy. He spots you and grins around the sugary dough, nudging the shoulder to his right and nodding in your direction.

Robin spins and you see her shoulders visibly fall and a grin spread across her face. She says something to the other two who head in the direction of the blankets and she races through the crowd. Muffled oofs and sorry’s meet your ears as she dodges and spins around people balancing concessions.

You reach the front of the line, a sandwich board proudly displaying the original ‘The Evil Dead’ poster sits next to an older woman on a stool at the gate. She smiles at you, holding a flashlight towards the ground. “Ticket, dear?”

“Rose! Rose, she's my girl!” Robin shouts, breathless as she makes it to the gate.

“Oh!” The elderly woman smiles wider, ushering you through, “Have fun ladies! Tell Edward I’m still waiting for my hot chocolate.”

“Yes ma’am.” Robin salutes with two fingers and then grabs you in a hug. “Jesus Christ I missed you!” Her voice is loud and she shrinks in your arms as the lights of the booths go out and the crowd surrounding you turns and shushes. Her voice shifts to a whisper, “Whoops. Come on, we’re towards the back and we still have all the commercials to chat without too many nasty looks.”

Robin holds your arm in a death grip, a silent promise to not let you out of her sights and clutches so long as she can help it again it seems. When you reach the blanket, Nancy and Eddie’s conversation stops abruptly and their smiles seem painted on as they look up at you.

It’s one of those moments, those silences that are too stilted and too abrupt, letting you know exactly what was being discussed just seconds before. You wave a little, ears burning since you have no doubt about who the subject of their interrupted conversation was.

“Eddie,” Robin begins, huffing as she falls to their cushy spot with extra blankets, trays of drinks, and several bags of sweets littered around them, “Rose is fiending.”

“Oh shit!” Ducking and wincing when someone turns around and glares at him. He grabs one of the cups with a big R on top and squeezes your shoulder as he stands, “Be right back! Glad you came!”

Sitting as Robin pats his now empty spot next to her. “Can I get you anything? We have cocoa and cider, donuts, popcorn, candy corn, caramel corn, basically any kind of corn and-“

“Robin,” Nancy hums, almost singing, as she sips from a cup. She squeezes her fingers. “You have to actually take a breath to let her respond.”

“I’ll never say no to a cider or donut,” you point to the items with a laugh.

Robin grabs them and hands it to you. She whacks pillows and squishes around, rolling and frowning and readjusting.

Eventually, she sighs, content, and grabs Nancy’s hand and then a donut from your bag and knocks it against one in your fingers before taking a bite.

“Happy?” Nancy asks as Robin hums around the sugar she licks off of her lips.

“You know it. Only thing that would make tonight better is…” she trails off with a grin.

You take her words as a warning to look around, wondering where he is and mentally preparing yourself.

Nothing could have prepared you though.

It happens quickly and yet not at the same time.

Your head turns to see them walking hand in hand. A swing of fingers as they walk past twinkling lights, the breeze blowing her hair perfectly.

Nancy says “Shit,” under her breath as she sits up. When you turn to look at her with a frown, she opens her mouth but no words come out.

The movie starts.

Eddie slows down as he makes his way back towards the blanket, looking at Nancy then over his shoulder then back at you.

Robin waves her arm too much and you turn to look again, trying to figure out what you’re not getting.

Steve’s eyes meet yours and he stops, tripping over his own shoe.

Leigh waves and something sparkles on her hand in the moonlight.

Robin beams and squeezes your wrist. “Oh my gosh I can’t believe they actually came! I figured with the whole engagement thing they wouldn’t. Now it’s all officially perfect. All my favorite people together on my favorite day.”

Plot twist: Steve Harrington is engaged.

WCIL taglist:

@loveshotzz @myobmaya @sweetsweetjellybean @pastel-pillows @littlesubbyflower @johnricharddeacy @freezaz123 @selfdeprecatingnerd @big-ope-vibes @manda-panda-monium @hellkaisersangel @yogizzz @soulmatecashton @happytimeunicorns @mandyjo8719 @lunarxeclipse @buckleylips @beckkthewreck @differentdeputyfishpaper @supardupar @micheledawn1975 @imjuststeddietrashatthispoint @sagelittleplace @totally-bogus-timelady @steves-babysitter @fallinginlovewithqueue @aftermidnightwriting @omgshesinsane @pootcullen @definitionwanderlust @nostalgiafool @palmtreesx3 @scoopshxrrington @live-the-fangirl-life @eddiesguitarskills @mannstarkey @keepingitlokiii

#steve harrington #modern!steve harrington #modern!steve #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington series #steve harrington angst #steve harrington fic #stranger things fanfic #we'll call it love

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corazondebeskar-reads · 11 months

Text

you know you never stood a chance - chapter four

you know you never stood a chance series

four: beg me to take care of things

qz!Joel Miller x f!reader

series masterlist | previous chapter | next chapter

Word Count: 2.2k

Summary: You continue your free use arrangement with Joel in exchange for shelter, but it hits a little snag.

Warnings: qz life comes with its own warning, dub-con due to power imbalance, trading sex for shelter, free use, vaginal sex, anal play, oral sex (m&f receiving), canon-typical violence, whoops there's more plot, Joel is mean/bad at feelings, no y/n, despite what it looks like this is NOT going to follow canon

also on ao3

“Not a fucking sound,” he whispers, stifling your moan with his hand. Ellie is asleep in the next room over, but the glass of the door between you is broken. It’s the only reason he feels comfortable leaving her in that room: the sole entrance is in his line of sight.

He’s got you pinned to the grimy tile, his whole weight atop you as he fucks into your cunt. You can’t make a sound if you wanted; you can hardly draw a breath. He’s not a small man by any means. But it feels so fucking good.

It’s been weeks. Ever since you got roped into this mission, ever since you left the QZ, he hadn’t touched you once.

It hurts in the best way, though just a little past the point of pleasure. There wasn't the time for prep. But your whole body is tingling just from finally having his hands back on you, his thick cock inside you, feeling like more than just a burden.

Each slap of his hips against you is a rebirth. In the six months before you started on this horrible trek, you had known very little outside of Joel’s touch. You went to work each morning, collected rations, and came home. He’d come home an hour later, always on edge, always looking for an outlet.

For six months, you had been little more than Joel Miller’s live-in fucktoy, and honestly, it was probably the best six months of your life since the outbreak. You wanted for nothing (at least in the realities of post-apocalyptic life—in the grander scheme of things, you wouldn’t have said no to some fucking McDonald’s french fries). You had protection. You had shelter. You had company.

Well. Okay. You sort of had company. You could count on him to speak at least a few words in the evening. He almost always made sure you came, too. It had been hard at first, relying on him, but there was no use for a martyr complex these days. The only one who’d suffer by turning down assistance was, well, you.

He doesn’t make sure you cum, this time, but you think he can tell you don’t need any help. The relief of having him inside you is enough, and you can’t spare the energy to be embarrassed about it.

After he pulls out, having covered your ass in his cum, he stands up immediately, knees cracking. He tucks himself away and nudges you with the toe of his boot. “Up, get dressed.”

You scramble up, tugging your pants back into place, and watch him for a moment. His jaw is ticking, and he’s scowling at the wall behind you.

You open your mouth, and he cuts you off. “Shouldn’t have done that. Not gonna happen again.”

You’re aghast. “What?”

“Wasn’t fair of me. Y’don’t owe me anythin’ out here.”

You take a hesitant step closer. His jaw twitches again, but he doesn’t move (or look at you). “You’re still protecting me,” you offer.

“I made you come out here. Kinda have to protect you.”

“You don’t, though,” you say, feeling emboldened enough to slide your hand up his arm to his bicep.

He knocks your arm away and grabs you by the chin. “Why’d you even come? You just do whatever I say, even stupid shit?”

“Well, yeah. Didn't really have a better offer.”

“Christ.” He drops his hand from you and wipes it down his face.

“How ‘bout you get some sleep?” you say warily. The bags under his eyes are deeper and darker than ever. “I can keep watch.”

“You learn how to shoot a gun when I was takin’ a piss earlier?”

“No, but I can still keep watch. I can wake you up if anything happens.”

You’re shocked when he seems to actually consider it. It’s the safest you’ve been in weeks, here in this abandoned high-rise. There are no signs of Infected or hunters.

“Fine.” He grunts. “But you wake me if there’s any sound. I don’t care if you think it’s a rat or the wind. You fuckin’ wake me, understand?”

“Yes, sir,” you joke. Something darkens behind his eyes just for a moment, until he blinks it away. You file that away for later.

He hands you a pistol and a knife, just in case. Not that you’ll know what to do with either, but he can’t just leave you unarmed. You nod, understanding passing between you.

He sucks on his front teeth, staring at you for a moment like he wants to say something. You’re not sure you want to hear it, though, so you say, “Goodnight, Joel.”

Nothing happens. You stand, leaning against the door frame, Joel’s pistol in your hands. Despite his paranoia, there’s not even a squeak out of place, and he sleeps for four full hours before getting up. He moves more nimbly than he has since, well. Since Tess.

You’d be lying if you said you weren’t curious to know what was between them. She had, after all, seemed very aware of what function you served to Joel, but there was no jealousy in her eyes. Maybe when he fucked her, it was like making love, and she was fine to leave all the rough, angry moments for you to absorb.

Or maybe it was nothing. It hardly mattered, and she was nice to you, so you respected her memory by leaving it alone.

Though you do wonder if that’s why he wouldn’t touch you anymore.

Dawn hasn’t broken, and Ellie is still asleep. When he comes out to check on you, you offer the only other comfort you can.

When you sink to your knees, he closes his eyes for just a moment and sighs. “Yeah, okay,” he says. His body had worked ahead of his brain, already undoing the button on his jeans, and he lets you ease him into the morning.

After, when he helps you stand, he holds you against him for a moment, and even presses a kiss into your hair almost absentmindedly. You figure maybe he’s forgotten his promise that it would never happen again.

And he does, for a little while.

When you first moved into his apartment, it was so incredibly awkward. Like, worse than a school dance awkward. Worse than walking in on your sister getting railed by some scrawny FEDRA officer awkward.

Eventually, you tracked his habits and rhythms and used the information to stay out of his way. You stopped wearing underwear when you were home, as it ended up on the floor anyway. After a while, he just started leaving you a couple of his shirts, and you gave up on sweatpants entirely.

You’d be lying if you said you were uncomfortable, and he tended to leave the shirt on you when he fucked you, so there was no need for dressing and undressing.

He left first in the morning and came home last, so the key quickly became your responsibility. He had shoved it into your hand the second evening.

“I’m leavin’ for a couple days. Lock the apartment. Don’t talk to anyone, and don’t tell anyone I’m gone.”

Before he left that evening, he ordered you to your knees and fucked your throat, wiping away the tears after he finished. “Be good,” he said, dragging his knuckles down your cheek.

And then he was gone. You locked the door behind him and sat on the dingy carpet, legs folded pretzel-style. The yellow fluorescent bulb overhead had a faint pulse to it, a barely-there dimming and brightening that started to hurt your eyes. What the fuck were you supposed to do here, in this flat you were haunting?

You didn’t dare look around. You ate the rations you had earned and left everything else alone. You knew there were pills, guns, and alcohol somewhere. You weren’t keen on learning where, though. Plausible deniability and all that.

Joel came home in the middle of the night three days later. The key issue became apparent when he had to pound on the door until you woke up to let him in.

“New plan,” he snarled when he came in. “From now on, when I’m gone, I’m lockin’ you in here until I get back.”

“Fuck no,” you said.

“The fuck did you say to me?” he said, stalking closer.

“What if you don’t come back soon enough? What if I fuckin’ run out of food?”

“You think I’d go to all this trouble to keep you safe and then let ya die in here?”

“I don’t know!” Your heart struggled to keep up with your irrational fury, and stumbled at his words. Why did he go to all this trouble? You were about to ask, but of course, he ruined it.

“What good’s your pussy to me then, huh?” He was chest-to-chest with you, towering with a venomous glare.

“I don’t know, Miller, you’re kind of a creep. Maybe you’re into that.”

“I’m a creep, huh? Then why are you so wet?”

You flushed, heat crawling across your cheeks and ears. “Who says I’m wet?”

It was the wrong thing to say. He pinned you against the door and shoved your pants down, plunging three fingers right into your cunt. You yelped at the stretch and pinch, but had nowhere to go, nowhere to run, as he brought them up to your face, coated in slick.

“Looks pretty wet to me,” he said, the words rumbling from somewhere deep and dark within. “Open.”

You did. God help you, you did. He smirked and pressed his fingers in, wiping them on your tongue.

“Suck,” he murmured.

You closed your lips around him and sucked until your cheeks hollowed around them, saliva leaking from the corners of your mouth. He pulled his fingers out and patted your cheek with the same hand, leaving a wet trail behind.

“Go get on the fuckin’ bed.”

"Which bed is the fucking bed?" you said before you could control yourself, and darted into his room before he could register your words.

You were hardly in position when his hands gripped the sides of your hips, and he licked into your cunt. “Fuckin’ slut, trying to say ya weren’t wet and waitin’ for me,” he grumbled, and nipped at your thigh before diving back in.

Your orgasm came embarrassingly quickly. His derisive chuckle brushed against your clit, which he sucked at until you were spent.

“Seems like ya missed me,” he said, standing and wasting no time before stuffing his cock in. “Well? Did ya?”

You didn’t answer, whining into the sheets as he set a slow but harsh pace, slamming in only to draw back out inch by inch.

He slapped your ass, watching it ripple. “Don’t be rude, sweetheart.”

“Oh, were you gone?” you huffed between thrusts.

He brought his hand down again. “What did I just fuckin’ say?”

“Y’know, come to think of it,” you couldn’t stop yourself, couldn’t shut up, “there was a distinct lack of grouchy old creeps hanging around.”

He grabbed your hair and craned your neck back so you could see the way his eyes were blown dark, teeth bared. “Watch yourself, sweetheart. I’ve had a real bad couple of days. Here I thought I was comin’ home to a sweet cunt.”

You opened your mouth, though you didn’t feel a retort dancing on your tongue. You figured by the time you came up with it, you’d have already said it.

He didn’t give you the chance. His other hand came up, and he hooked two fingers into your cheek. The hand in your hair released to dip into your mouth, swiping his thumb through the pooling saliva. He dragged it down and pressed the wet thumb into the cleft of your ass, firm pressure against your tight hole.

You were breathing heavily around his fingers, back arched. He didn’t stop fucking into you, hissing as you clamped down when his thumb pushed in, just enough to make you feel the pressure.

“Awfully quiet now,” he drawled. “You just needed all your holes filled, huh?”

You thought you might die from the humiliation, if only the pleasure didn’t take you first. You squirmed, pushing back into him.

He jostled your head by pinching the fingers in your mouth and shaking your cheek. “You gonna be quiet if I take these out?”

You nodded. He withdrew the fingers and brought the hand down to your hip, holding you steady so he could chase his orgasm. Each rough thrust knocked a quiet cry from your lips, and he pulled away from your asshole to tangle his fingers in your hair, pulling your head back again.

The kiss was mostly teeth and spit, but it was euphoric. He felt the way you tightened and tensed, and he smiled against your lips. “Cum for me,” he said, and licked into your mouth to gobble up your scream.

When you convulsed on his cock, he lost control, and almost didn’t pull out in time. He spilled against the bed, swearing deep and low.

That memory and the many others get you through the lonely nights on the journey, your hand down your pants and gasps muffled around your fist when you can catch a moment alone. If Joel notices, he doesn’t show it. Except tonight, when you look back on it, you realize he was only making good on his promise not to let you rot in his apartment. Whatever delusions you had about being brought along get left behind in the shitty high rise.

next chapter

*title from "Send the Pain Below" by Chevelle.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #qz!joel miller #the last of us fic #the last of us smut #the last of us spoilers #sort of

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spiffghosthuntingcorporation · 2 years

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Brian? Brian! Come on man, get up. You’re squishing our thermometers.

Wha..? What’s happening? Did we find Dan?

No… We have another job to do.

What? But it’s only- it’s still light out!

We’re doing daytime jobs as well, it seems.

But that could add up to two or three jobs a day!

It already has. Once we finish this one, we go straight to the next.

What the fuck… Daytime jobs? There’s no way there’s been that many murders, right?

Lads, did you hear about what happened?

No, but I have a feeling it has something to do with the commotion I heard earlier.

Well, you’re right. I don’t know their names, but a team just came back minus one member, and they’re pissed. Like, walking-out levels of pissed.

What happened?

Apparently, their teammate passed out from exhaustion mid-hunt and left his EMF reader on, which lead the Raiju right to him. You know what happened next.

Damn…

And from what I heard, the kid was good. A rookie, but really freaking good. I think he was their little brother or something as well, because they’re threatening Spiff right now. They said they’ll smash all the display cases and everything if he doesn’t let them leave.

Wait- they’re threatening Spiff? That means his office is open!

We already looked in his office, Brian.

Kevin, there’s no need to snap. For all we know, we could’ve missed something the first time around.

For all we know, Daniel’s fucking gone! He could’ve ran into a candle, or accidentally got banished from the crucifix, or maybe he just hightailed it out of here with the wires! He’s sure as hell not just chilling in Spiff’s office!

Okay, you know what, I’m sick of you talking like that! You know Dan wouldn’t just abandon us like this. But we can’t keep wasting our energy and sanity worrying about him! For the time being, we’re a four-person team again. And we know that our four-person team works just as good as a five-person team. So you need to stop fucking snapping at us, and go get your stuff. Because like it or not, we still have a job to do.

Daithi’s right, as much as I hate to admit it.

Shut the fuck up.

Guys! We can’t start fighting. We need to stick together if we want to stay alive and find our friend. So start acting like the professional ghost hunters we are, and go get your shit together!

Your friends are fighting again.

Shut up. Don’t you have some innocent people to murder?

Watch your tone.

What, you don’t like it when I talk about all the horrible things you’ve done?

You’re not exactly blameless either. If it wasn’t for your help, those people would still be alive.

I don’t have a choice right now-!

Temper. But like it or not, you’ve still done just as many bad things as I have.

I am nothing like you.

Really? What about all those innocent ghosts you killed?

I didn’t…

You were one of the best hunters in the company. It’s a shame you don’t remember it, you really were something special. You could get all three pieces of evidence before the grace period was even over, and then immediately launch into your next ghost hunt. In fact, I think you killed more ghosts than anyone else in the company!

Would you just shut up?!

Easy, Daniel. Remember. One match is all it takes for you to burn into nothing, and then it’ll only take a bit more for your friends to do the same. Maybe I’ll do you last, so you can watch as this building crumbles to the ground.

You’re evil, you know that? You’re working your teams to death, you’re killing innocent ghosts, you’re helping someone kill innocent people… Why? Why would you do any of that?

…You want to know why?

I mean, it’s not like I could tell anyone while I’m stuck in here. Might as well make conversation.

You’re just trying to manipulate me, or something.

Would you believe me if I said I wasn’t?

Not in the slightest.

Fair enough.

…

…I’m in too far to quit.

What?

That’s why I do this. I can’t back out now.

But that’s-

Take it or leave it, that’s my excuse.

A weak excuse, but sure.

If I quit now, my boss would take all the evidence against me to the police, while keeping his own nose clean. He’d just find another partner, and it would all keep going. Ghost hunting business in exchange for your part in the murders.

So you would quit if you had the chance to?

I think so. Maybe I’d go back to being a ghost hunter.

Huh.

…I’m gonna go. I have a phone call to take.

Wait- aaaaand he’s gone.

#phasmo!lads #rtgame #callmekevin #jacksepticeye #daithi de nogla #terroriser #the spiffing brit #this is fun

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truckreincarnation · 9 months

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How Does That Fucking Saying Go? | Shinjuku | Trial 4.4 | RE: Theophania

If he can’t hate anyone, then who….how does it go again..?

As soon as Theophania snarls out that first confession, Shin instantly gets ready to push back. Yet remaining to the sidelines as everyone else pushes back instead, especially listening to Avery. Their heartbreak was crushing, even to someone not involved.

And then the true confession came out.

……it wasn’t even her intention to kill them. She wouldn’t have even risked it if she knew they were around. As much as he wants to call her out for it, to get angry and explode over this causing the deaths of his bondmates…

…..he can’t.

Everything in his blood wishes he could have done anything to save either of them, and yet, once again, he couldn’t. Should he really be attacking Theophania for something like this? To follow in the footsteps of everyone else before?

….to go with instinct, rather than reason?

……..

Can he even bring himself to do that?

Though as Theophania breaks down, sobbing for everyone to hate her as she hates them, Shin just stares silently for a while. His gaze softens slightly, without any light returning at all, before he tries to find some words to speak. Tone still flat, but doing his best to look her in the eye.

“...I hear what you’re saying. I get what you’re saying, how you did something so horrible and that we should hate you for it. Hear ya loud and clear…”

….

“.......but I can’t. Sorry, Theophania, I can’t hate you. Don’t get me wrong, I’m still greately upset, I’m just as angry, but… I’m not going to project it onto you. You’re already dealing with the fucking grief of killing them, why make shit worse. Plus, Bian has a point. Nobody should have died here. Nobody should have been affected by all of this. We were backed into corners, wanting to survive, trying to keep the people we care for alive…”

“....you wanted to get out, and I believe that you would never have done this if you knew. Even if we didn’t talk too much in depth, I still trust your judgment, and hell, even if our relationship is just… ‘okay’, I still wanted to keep an eye on you. You saw that when I gave you the potion and stuff.”

There, Shin sighs. “....so, yeah. I can’t hate you for being backed into needing to survive. I’ve said it many times, I’m not one to judge killers. Now, I will still condemn you, because of what happened to Luz and Frank, and my emotions still remain, but… I’m not going to scream or attack. I’m not going to hurt you more.”

Pause. “......you’re free to hate me though. I don’t mind anymore. I’ve tried to correct somethings, but you are still the judge of your own feelings. I’ve done shit that I understand if you hate me for so…. Fair. You can absolutely hate me, I’m just not reciprocating the feelings.”

He hopes Luz and Frank understand. If they hate him for it as well, then so be it. He’s tried. Tried soo hard to wrap his head around things, to try to empathize and show that he cares, that he’s trying so… so hard. To show that he, along with everyone else, is just trying to survive.

Hope it’s fine.

There, he slips off his glasses. It was so much harder now to try to keep everything together, after all this. More of his bondmates died unintentionally, that possibly… he could have done something. He wishes he could have done something to keep them alive. But that’s how it goes in this damn place, huh? He doesn’t lose,

Everyone loses.

But he remains to be like a curse.

“.....I’m not the one you probably want comfort or sympathy from. So, I’ll leave it at this. We all were forced into this fucking hell, a second fucking chance where we have to kill for entertainment and survival in this unknown place, thrown into this fucking war with endless horrors, and for what?? To keep fucking losing the people and things we care about??? I can’t hate you, I can hate everything else though.”

“......”

“.......I’m just… so fucking tired.”

“.... I leave my thoughts there.” With that, Shin signs quickly in his book. “......sorry, Theophania, for everything to turn out like this.”

He couldn’t hate her. As much as she treated him in certain ways, he doesn’t wish to reciprocate it. He can’t bring himself to hate her, on so many moral standpoints, in and out of here. He can’t bring himself to hate anyone here, even if he’s angry or condemning them. Shin couldn’t hate anyone else trapped here.

…..no one he could really hate but himself.

#Shinjuku #ch4 #trial4 #submission

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slithergaunt · 2 years

Text

More of that stuff

Some of ya'll might remember I used to have a comic I did, Serpent Song

This shit was my LIFE for several years. A passion project I hoped would lead to other opportunities, but ultimately it was just something I wanted to do. I wanted to make a book and have it be finished and real. And it ended up actually happening! I proved to myself I could finish something and end up with a finished book. (In fact, one could still buy it, if one so wished)

It was hard hard work, but I ended up really happy with it. So I had every intention of continuing it.

Until, a couple pages into chapter 3, when I was hit with The Burnout. That dreaded thing we artists always fear, which can maim and cripple your brain like nobody's business. I tried to ignore/power through it for quite a while, but I was kidding myself. It was here.

That was 2019. To be fair, I also was neck-deep in the horrible sludge of Retail to make ends meet. I had less energy to go around, and comics (as you might've heard from other folks) requires a LOT of energy and attention span.

At the end of the day, it was enormous amounts of energy being poured into something that wasn't really keeping me afloat. I was hit hard. I'd never experienced burnout before, so it was a very new sensation, being unable to create jack shit.

Only in recent months have I finally started to get back into it. My living situation is vastly improved, and so far commissions have been enough to pay bills. Not only that, I'm ENJOYING commissions again. Things are better-ish. My brain is feeling competent again.

Personal work, artsy abstract work, different mediums etc.. have all helped me enjoy stuff again. HOWEVER, a lot of the stuff I've done, while fun and relaxing, hasn't given me that sense of accomplishment that Serpent Song did.

Lots of folks draw monsters and stuff all day long, and I love it too, but Serpent Song was the first time I'd ever felt "Holy shit, I'm the ONLY person who could've made this.." Lots of folks can get that feeling from different sources, but this was the first for me.

Lately I've been longing for that feeling more and more. The feeling of doing something that feels like a truly unique accomplishment. As terrified as I am of burnout now, I need to find a way to get that back. One way or another.

Plus, I really want to give people more of this story. I was so touched by how many people loved the book, even enough to make fanart of it! I wanna give back to the patre0n supporters and everyone who helped keep it going. There's so much more I want to do.

So in summation, I am currently in the process of making new Serpent Song chapters. I'll be experimenting with a few methods to hopefully make the process easier, which does mean there may be some visual changes in how the comic looks. I refuse to over-simplify the art and draw something that doesn't feel like my style, but depending on what methods work for me, line-art and shading may look slightly different that previous chapters. That said, I think I'm finally ready to pick up where I left off.

Let’s do crazy shit again. <3

#serpent song #graphic novel #stheno

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rebeccccccaaa · 3 years

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ʟᴏᴠᴇ ᴍᴇ ʀɪɢʜᴛ _____________________

ʙʀᴏᴛʜᴇʀ’s!ʙᴇsᴛ!ғʀɪᴇɴᴅ!ʙᴜᴄᴋʏ ʙᴀʀɴᴇs ᴀᴜ

sᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: You and Buck have always been close growing up but you two soon learn that the line that separates friendly and flirting is a lot thinner than you think.

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: fluff, slight angst bc u got a shit bf, big bro vibes from bucky, smut duh [18+ minors dni (slight praise but also slight degradation, marking, belly bulge, squirting, fem!rec oral, unprotected sex, plz be safe irl, slight choking, pet names: darling&princess, i think that’s it lmk plz)]

ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ’s ɴᴏᴛᴇs: hey assholes i'm back for the time being lol. I have a few ideas and fics I'm currently writing right now so do not fret.

______________________________________

You knew this was a horrible idea.

It’s Saturday night and you and your boyfriend were back in another night club after being kicked out from one just hours before. Daniel had gotten too drunk, as he always does, causing you to kindly ask the bartender to cut him off. Daniel didn’t take that too lightly resulting in a gnarly swing at the poor guy just doing his job.

Security threw you out and Daniel called an Uber to go where you thought was going to be your apartment but twenty minutes later you pulled up to another club practically on the other side of town. You yelled at Daniel but he pushed aside stumbling inside for yet even more drinks and mistakes waiting for him inside.

You sat at the bar simply drinking some water and snacking on some peanuts keeping your eye on your garbage boyfriend. You're constantly checking the time on your phone, annoyed with every passing minute. It was 2 am and you just wanted to go home and sleep. You were even debating texting your brother Steve hoping you could just crash at his place not too far from where you were but it would be incredibly irresponsible to just leave Daniel in the state he’s in.

So you waited and waited and waited. Your eyelids felt heavy and your energy was just completely drained. You were basically a zombie. It wasn’t until a guy approached your half asleep body that you felt a sense of alert. Daniel was shit-faced so you were practically defenseless.

“Hey,” the guy shouted over the music.

“Sorry, I’m not interested. My boyfriend’s-” you quickly said, only to be cut off.

“Don’t worry. I’m not gonna hit on you. I’ve got a boyfriend of my own,” he chuckled, making you breathe out in relief.

“Sorry,” you cringed at yourself.

“It’s alright; but uh, I hate to be the one to tell you this. You might want to check with your boyfriend,” he said sympathetically.

You pushed your way through the crowd scanning every face in search of Daniel. What did he do? Is he hurt? Did he get in trouble again? Is he getting arrested? Where is he-

“Daniel?” you said eyes tearing up a bit.

His arms were wrapped around another girl’s waist as he kissed her the way he kissed you. She practically moaned as their tongues slobbered disgustingly with each other. Their hips grinding against each other proactively as if you weren’t even there. Sadness turned to anger, and anger turned to rage, gripping Daniel’s short hairs and pulling his head away from whoever this girl was.

“What the fuck?” the girl complained, her eyes completely bloodshot.

“Did he tell you that he was here with his girlfriend tonight?” you're sad with gritted teeth. Daniel stumbled around still unable to register what the hell was happening.

“Oh my god, you forreal?” she said.

“Who fucking cares? She’s a prude anyway. I got more action with you than I did her in the past, what, six months?” Daniel slurred.

“You know what, you’re a fucking prick, dude. She deserves so much better than you; I bet your dick is small anyway,” the girl said.

“Fuck you too bitch,” Daniel spit.

“I can’t believe you,” you said.

“Oh, whoop-dee-doo, big fucking surprise. Babe, you’re a prude. Can’t you see it? I don’t know why I’m wasting my time with you anymore,” he practically puked out the words without any second thought.

“Fine, then I hope you enjoy the rest of your night, you fucking asshole,” you stormed away holding in the tears; he wasn’t worth it.

Almost three am and you just dumped your cheating lowlife boyfriend on the other side of town. Steve wasn’t answering his phone and you even wanna be near the club anymore. Walking speedily staring at your screen desperate to call an Uber home, you bumped harshly into a hard chest falling to the ground on your bum.

“Fucking hell, I’m so sorry, darling,” the man said helping you up by your elbows.

“It’s ok. I wasn’t looking- Bucky?”

“Oh, hey kid. What are you doing? It’s like three in the morning and you don’t live anywhere near here,” Bucky said, crossing his arms.

“Daniel got himself kicked from the one by our apartment and Ubered here instead.”

“So where’s Daniel?” Bucky scowled; he’s always hated that guy, so did Steve.

“Probably fucking some other chick in the bathroom,” your voice cracked.

“What?”

“It’s nothing; I just want to go home,” you cried.

“Hey, it’s ok; it’s ok. Do you wanna crash at me and Steve’s? He’s gone for the weekend with Peggy; you can stay in his room at least for the night,” Bucky offered; so that’s why Steve’s not answering his phone.

“I don’t wanna intrude on your night. I can just call an Uber, it’s fine.”

“No, it’s not. Steve’ll kill me if he found out I left his baby sis alone in the streets of New York at three in the morning. It’s not a problem, we were just bar hopping and I stopped drinking ages ago.”

“Are you sure, Buck?”

“Of course,” he smiled warmly at you.

“Hey, Nat!”

“What’s up?” a beautiful redhead approached you both.

“Gonna head home ; don’t do anything stupid,” he chuckled.

“You too,” she wiggled her eyebrows suggestively, “Catch you Monday?”

“You’re stupid. I’ll see ya,” Bucky laughed before grabbing your hand and headed towards his apartment.

“Thanks again, Buck. For letting me stay here tonight,” you said once you entered his apartment.

It had been a while since you hung out at your brother’s apartment but nothing’s changed. Typical men and their inability to change even a throw pillow. You set your small bag on the couch before Bucky led you to Steve’s room. There were pictures of you and him posing at Steve’s graduation; and later your own. Pictures of Steve and Bucky at a theme park, during a bar-be-que for Steve’s birthday. So many memories that Steve held onto in his room.

“Time really flies doesn’t it?” Bucky said, slightly startling you.

“Sorry,” he chuckled.

“No, you’re fine. But you’re right. Feels all these pictures were taken yesterday,” you reminisced.

“I got you some clothes if you need to change; I’ll give you privacy,” Bucky said, slipping from the room briskly.

You sat on the bed frustrated with everything. Your body was so drained from being up so early in the night, to the fight with Daniel. The past couple months with him were so awful. He was just so mean to you all the time and you didn’t know what you did wrong. Where did it go wrong? When did things shift?

"Is everything ok, darling?" Bucky asked quietly, knocking on the door when you hadn't come out after a while.

"What did I do wrong? I thought he loved me," you choked out.

Bucky sighed as he walked over to the bed sitting beside you before engulfing you in a warm hug. You cried into his shoulder and Bucky couldn't help the anger that bubbled inside him for your excuse of a boyfriend Daniel. He never got along with the guy and now he finally has a reason to knock his teeth in.

"You didn't do anything, I know it. That prick wouldn't know love if it hit him in the face. It's his loss. You deserve so much better than that asshole. Look at me, you're so beautiful and funny and fucking adorable; any guy who can't see how perfect you are, is a dense piece of shit."

"James," you whispered.

His words made your heart skip and your stomach flutter. But Bucky’s always had that effect on you. Even growing up. You weren’t going to sit there and pretend that hearing his words hadn't had a deeper effect than they would’ve coming from Daniel. Sometimes you wondered what being with Bucky would be like. You’re not the first to admit how handsome Bucky was and growing up you did have quite the crush on your brother’s best friend.

You don't know what it was, whether it was the alcohol still swimming through your veins, or just feeling so vulnerable being in Bucky's arms but you wanted him badly. You needed him, needed to feel something again. And you knew he could give it to you. You pressed your lips to his and in an instant his hands dropped to your hips pulling you impossibly close against his body. Your hands went to the back of his head as you kissed him messily. Your noses bumped and teeth clashed but it was the best kiss you’ve ever had.

“Fuck, your brother’s gonna kill me,” Bucky mumbled, almost to himself, as he slowly laid you down on your back.

Bucky’s hands trailed up your thighs, squeezing the soft flesh every now and then as he continued kissing you passionately. Your own hands couldn’t help but tug at his shirt desperately. When he did so, your breath was completely taken away. It had been years since you’d seen Bucky without a shirt.

Not only had he been quite skinny just like your brother back then, but not long after leaving for college with Steve he was in a bike accident that left him with ghastly scars and burns along his left arm and shoulder. Since then, it’s fair to say Bucky never really ever took his shirt off. It had taken years just for him to remove the glove he’d always wear to cover the scars on his hand.

“You’ve gotten so strong, James,” you grinned, reaching out to brush the flexed muscles running down his front.

He simply stared at you with an anticipating and anxious expression on his face, waiting for you to state the obvious. When you didn’t, when you pulled his head down to kiss him once again, he almost cried. Bucky hadn’t been with a woman in so long, afraid of this very moment. He knew at that moment, there was no one quite like you.

Bucky fell in love.

“Let me take care of you, darling. You’ve been so good to me,” Bucky whispered huskily in your ear as he trailed his hand under your own shirt brushing his fingertips along the underside of your breast.

His lips pressed softly against your hot skin along your neck before standing up between your legs at the end of the bed. He pulled your shirt off then played cheekily with the straps of your bra that you still had on. You smiled back at him with the same playful stare, reaching behind you to unclasp the material.

You could see the way Bucky’s eyes darken and his pupils widened as he stared in awe at your naked chest. Your skin bursted into chills under his hungry gaze even though you felt like you were burning up. Bucky leaned forward kissing down the valley of your breasts, nipping once in a while playfully before laying you back down. He shimmied you out of your bottoms easily, kneeling on the ground leaving you completely bare before him.

“You are absolutely stunning, princess,” Bucky whispered, running his hands up your thighs slowly.

“Bucky, please. I need you,” you whimpered.

“Don’t worry, darling. I promise I’m gonna take good care of you,” he smirked devilishly.

He pushed your knees open, eyeing the arousal that glistened between your thighs. He brought his fingers up to you slowly rubbing your slick around before finally pushing a thick and long finger past your folds. Your body shuddered solely at the foreign but pleasurable feeling, already moaning softly.

Bucky’s cock strained through pants upon hearing your beautiful moans; they were like music to his ears. He couldn’t help the way his hips would buck into the mattress in a desperate attempt to relieve some pain from his erection. Soon after he pulled his fingers from you slowly only to thrust them further in you, curling his fingers just right.

He brought his mouth down to you, wrapping his lips around your clit sucking harshly. You gasped and your back arched, overwhelmed with pleasure Bucky was giving you with just his mouth and fingers. All the times that you’d given yourself to your ex, he had never made you feel this good before, feel this full; let alone with his fingers. Bucky was taking his time with you solely for your own pleasure and it made your heart swoon.

Your legs trapped Bucky’s head between your thighs, squeezing as he continued to eat you out like a starved man. Your hands went to his hair pulling on his dark locks causing Bucky to moan deeply against you. You were so close to a release; your legs shaking violently and your stomach tightening.

“Come on, princess. Want you to come all over my face. Can you do that for me, darling?”

“Fuck!”

“Be a good girl and make a mess,” Bucky teased.

His fingers moved faster as he swirled his tongue around and over your clit just as quickly. You were becoming overwhelmed and that coil bursted in the pit of your stomach. You pushed Bucky’s face from you, shrieking with pure pleasure; Bucky’s kept the rapid pace with fingers as you fell over the edge.

“Fucking hell, that was so hot, princess,” Bucky said standing up; his fingers, arm, his chest was covered in your arousal.

“Did I do that?” your voice trembled.

“Because of me,” Bucky winked playfully.

“I didn’t know I could do that,” you let your head fall back on the bed as you briefly caught your breath.

Bucky grabbed his shirt that he discarded not long ago and quickly wiped his chest and arm before discarding his pants and boxers. He nearly moaned at the feeling when he finally freed his dick from the restraining garments. His hand instantly wrapped around the base before pumping himself a few times.

You brought yourself onto your elbows momentarily ogling at the sight of Bucky completely bare before you. Your mouth practically watered at the sight. Bucky crawled over you kissing you deeply and messily; but perfectly. He pulled away and you both had goofy smiles on your faces before bursting into a fit of giggles, Bucky’s head burying into the crook of your neck.

“You’re so goddamn adorable, princess,” Bucky’s voice was muffled.

“Bucky,” you whined.

You couldn’t resist squirming underneath the burly man. Although, you’ve just had what was probably the best orgasm you’ve ever had, you wanted more. You needed more; you needed Bucky.

“I got you, darling. I got you.”

Bucky wanted to tease you more, make you beg, but he was just as desperate to feel you as you were. He propped himself up on his elbows kissing you one last time before reaching between your bodies and lining his dick with your entrance. Both you and Bucky moaned simultaneously as he stretched you out; curses spilling from his lips as incoherent moans fell from yours.

“So fucking tight, princess. Squeezing my cock just right, aren’t ya?” he whispered.

“Fuck, I feel so full,” you whimpered.

Bucky began to slowly move his hips in and out of you deliciously. He quickly picked up the pace, jetting his hips rapidly making your moans louder. Bucky sat up on his knees and gripped your waist surely to leave bruises in your wake. This new angle surprised you and you couldn’t help the squeals and moans that left your mouth. You chanted Bucky's name like a prayer; as if it was the only word you knew.

Bucky watched you carefully, your face contorting with pure euphoric pleasure. He couldn’t help notice the small bump in your lower belly and without a second thought, he grabbed your hands pressing them firmly over your tummy.

“You feel how deep I am, darling? Fucking poking through,” Bucky grunted.

“Shit! Oh, it feels so good,” you moaned.

“That’s right, no one’s ever gonna fuck you this good again. This pussy’s mine now,” Bucky growled.

He took one of his hands and wrapped it around your throat squeezing the sides gently but firm at the same time. Your eyes rolled back and you moaned even louder, confident that the neighbors were sure to complain in the morning. Feeling Bucky’s hand around your neck was so exhilarating; you and Daniel had never ever experimented with anything beyond a pair of handcuffs, and that particular night went horribly.

You like being choked by Bucky.

“Fucking slut; you like this, don’t ya?” he came down to whisper huskily against your lips.

“Mh-hm,” you moaned with a devilish grin, your bottom lip resting between your teeth before your eyes rolled back again.

“Such a fucking beauty you are.”

Bucky hips snapped in and out and he knew it wouldn’t be long until he needed to release.

“God, I’m close, princess,” he growled.

His hand moved to rest on the back of your neck to pull you up so you straddled his thighs and your chest was flushed against his. Your sensitive and hardened nipples brushed against his slightly sweaty skin causing you to shudder in pleasure. Bucky’s lips attached themselves to your skin along your collar bones sucking harshly leaving purple marks all along.

Your legs shook once again as they did before and soon enough with an arched back and shout of Bucky’s name you came all over his cock. Overwhelmed with your sex, Bucky bit harshly on your shoulder in a poor attempt to muffled the loud groans and moans he elicited. Feeling your velvety walls squeeze tightly around him pushed him over the edge, coating your walls with hot ribbons on cum.

He fell forward almost crushing you but you were too tired to complain. Bucky continued to pepper soft kisses all over your skin whispering how good you were to him, how beautiful you looked. Just absolutely showering with compliments. You felt him slowly getting off you, probably afraid he was crushing you, but you didn’t want him to leave just yet.

“Don’t,” you whispered, wrapping your arms tightly around his body.

“I don’t want to crush you, darling.”

“You’re not.”

Bucky chuckled before settling completely above you, careful not to make you uncomfortable. Hardly any time went by when he felt the even and soft puffs of air hitting his skin, sure that you had fallen asleep. He picked himself up and with major guilt for his best friend, picked you up from the bed and walked you to his own room.

After he was sure you stayed sound asleep, Bucky grabbed a clean pair of boxers and hurried himself to Steve’s room again. He collected all the discarded clothes and the dirty sheets and tossed them in the washing machine to clean right away.

He hadn’t meant to fuck his best friend’s little sister, let alone in his own room, on his own bed, but it all happened so fast.

He went back to his room letting the clothes do it’s thing, and quickly grabbed his phone. He messaged Steve, telling him that when he got back for his weekend with Peggy, he really needed to talk to him.

Tonight made Bucky realize how much he loved you. Growing up, you two had always been close. But he doesn’t know when he stopped being friendly and instead began flirting. Bucky wanted to be with you; he knew it now more than ever.

Bucky watched your gorgeous sleeping form on his bed. He smiled to himself before opening the window; the sun already rising and those beautiful golden rays seeped through the glass window, making you look angelic. He crawled into bed cuddling flushed against your naked body. He chuckled softly when you realized he’d returned, wiggling even further into his arms.

“I love you, Bucky,” you mumbled.

“I love you, too, darling.”

And he really, and truly did love you. As did you love him.

=======================

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the-fiction-witch · 2 years

Text

Princess Daddy

TV SHOW THE QUEENS GAMBIT COUPLE: BENNY X READER RATING: ADORABLE

I woke up and insanely felt groggy and horrible, my head felt so heavy. I pushed myself out of bed and attempted some shred of thought. I grabbed my kimono off the bedpost and headed the stairs

"Uuughh beth! Why did you convince me to have wine" I sighed

"To be fair Benny you didn't exactly need much convincing" I heard from the kitchen, I glanced over to see y/n stood in the kitchen making breakfast "good morning" she smiled

"Ummmm morning" I smiled going and giving her cheek a kiss

"Coffee" she smiled handing over my usual mug

"Ooohh I love you so much" I smiled almost snatching the mug from her having almost half of it in one go

"Love you too Benny, or where are you talking to the coffee?"

"Both of you" I shrug "my head is killing me"

"That's what happens when you play drunk chess with Beth"

"She always thinks when I'm drunk she can beat me"

"... But she can. Benny beth can beat you sober"

"I know." I nodded "but she doesn't have to rub it in. Thank you for driving home last night" I told her giving her head a kiss

"It's alright Benny, I know I'm the driver when we go to Beths because you two like to play drunk chess. It's okay I don't mind being designated driver" she smiled

"Well next time I'll drive. I promise"

"Thank you," she smiled

"What's for breakfast?"

"French toast, bacon, with hash browns and grapefruit" she explained as she worked “you haven't forgotten have you?"

"Uuuuuuhhh no"

"Benny"

"What is it I was not meant to have forgotten?"

"It's the twenty-third Benny"

"Yes…"

"Where am I going?"

"........... Uuuuuuughhh. To a… doctor's appointment?"

She just glared "you're close."

"Dentist?"

"No… one more try Benny"

"You have… a nail appointment?"

"No Benny. Because I'm feeling nice I'll give you one more go"

I had a thought sipping my coffee trying to think what she had to do today, then it clicked "it's the twenty-third."

"It is" she giggled

"Ohh shit. You have therapy today"

"Yay" she giggled giving my cheek a kiss "well done Benny"

"How uhhh how long are you going to be?"

"Till I go or how long will I be gone?"

"Both"

"Well I'll go as soon as I finish with breakfast, and it takes half an hour just to get across town Benny and it's a long appointment so I likely won't be back till this afternoon"

"Alright, have a nice session darling" I smiled giving her a kiss before I went into the living room with my coffee and my breakfast sitting at the table flipping through the pile of mail left there that she had gotten in this morning

"I'm leaving the girls with you" she smirked bringing their breakfast too sitting them on the chairs beside mine

"What?" I asked slightly having frozen up at that sentence

"I can't take them both to therapy Benny, and I can't leave them in the waiting room"

"So you're leaving them with me! All-day!"

"Yes, I am. You'll be fine" she smiled as she hurried upstairs to wake them up so I downed the rest of my coffee and tried to mentally prepare myself.

It's not like I don't love my girls but… I'm so rarely left alone with them, I'm always working or y/n takes care of them anytime I'm left alone with them they then into terrifying little demons.

"Good Morning Daddy!" Their little voices giggled as they ran down the stairs and jumped onto the chairs for their breakfast

"Morning girls" I smiled at them as they had their breakfast to my left sitting perfectly on her little chair was Carrie, eating her breakfast in her little pink Pj's her long plait of hair that looked eerily like my own, he sweet y/c/eyes and her chubby little cheeks. To my right unable to stop her bouncing on the chair was Chrissy, in her little white nightie with her high ponytail of Y/h/c hair and her cute brown eyes, "Did you girls have a nice sleep?"

"I had a bad dream" Carrie spoke up

"Awww what about?"

"it was the bird skull man again"

"Ohh. we uhhh we are gonna keep an eye on you," I told her "How did you sleep Chrissy?"

"Fine, Mr fluffles fell off the bed"

"Ohh no, Poor Mr Fluffles but he'll be okay he has a soft plush body, he's just a stuffie after all"

"I bandaged his poor arm"

"I see, well we'll get you some more bandages then"

"You girls be good for your daddy today" Y/n smiled as she came down with her handbag and her coat

"We will mummy" Carrie smiled

"good, you girls behave. have a nice day benny" she smiled giving my head a kiss

"have a good time y/n"

"I shall" she smiled "Bye my darlings" she waved before she took the keys for the car and hurried out the door the girls left the table and went to the window to wave her goodbye, I finished my breakfast and took the plates all over to the sink I'd likely to the dishes later by the time I turned back the car was gone from the driveway and Carrie and Chrissy stood smiling at me evilly

"What are we gonna do today daddy" they both wicked smiled in unison

"ahhh girls what have I told you about the talking in unison it freaks me out"

"Come play with us daddy"

"Uhhh maybe we play girls once we all get dressed okay," I told them so they happily ran up to their room, "They're gonna kill me aren't they" I sighed heading upstairs and getting dressed for the day, I went downstairs and sat at my chess table doing a little work until the girls came down with there large pink suitcase "Ohh what uhh what have you got there girls?"

"Can Daddy Play Tea with us?" Carrie cooed

"Please daddy, play tea party with us?" Chrissy begged

"Uhh well I do need to do some work girls" I began

"Please" They both whined

"Well. Alright girls" I sighed going upstairs to there bedroom with them seeeing they set the table up with the little cups, saucers, and teapot they set the spare chairs up with their teddy bears pouring some fake tea for us as they got dressed into little dresses with large hats and almost all there jelwery I was brought over having to sit on the floor to be anywhere near the table as they plaid

"To attend the party daddy you need to fit the dress code" Chrissy smiled

"No. daddy doesn't play dress up with you, Mummy does. we have had talks about this"

"Please daddy" they whined doing there sad little eyes at me

"Fine" I sighed I was given some of there long costume necklaces and a couple plastic rings one of which was a unwrapped ring pop which cornerened me as I had no clue how old it was, and even a pink tutu which I just sat in my lap as there was noway in hell it was going around me, both my dignity and the elastic preventing it. as the girls plaid I was a tad concerned watching them, this was not like how I imagined a little girls tea party more like... one of y/n's Tv melodrama's.

"What a lovely day for a tea party My Lord ducklington" Carrie smiled

"Uhh carrie? Thats a monkey"

"Shhhh daddy." she told me

"Lord banana ducklington married into the prestigus duckilington family afterwedding the prior lord ducklington's widow and thus inheriting control of the family fortune. which he spends thiverlessly" she explained

"right" I nodded "what uhhh whats the sheep's story then?"

"Mr Wollwit. new money makes his fortune in the leather, fur and wollen clothing market, his last assistant in the business got taken to jail for insider trading" Chrissy explained

"Uhhhh... right" I nodded "what about the little dinosaur?"

"Lord Rex tandembone. He has several oilrigs and the larges collection of bones in the western world" Carrie explained

"Okay. uhhh okay. And you girls are? in this scenario?"

"I am The fairest lady Chrissy Watts, I'm engaged to Lord fluffles in the hope to merge our families to create a more practical streamline for business however romours have been circulating that Lord fluffles was seen in the late night company of Miss Girrafe"

"And I am The Most beautiful Lady Carrie Watts and I have my eyes on a cut though deal that could see then end of throw away packaging replacing it with all natural creations by My business"

"Carrie I keep telling you its foolish to waste for fortunes in this way, it'll never lack on with mainstream money"

"I don't care about mainstream old money like The ducklingtons, I care about the common man!" she argues "You know what I mean Mr Wollwit, or have you been peddling your cheap siberian fur so long you've forgotten what its like to be a normal man"

"I uhhhh I think I'm going to have a word with mummy, maybe get her to stop watching her drama shows with you two" I told them "why exactly am I then?"

"Uhhhhh" they both muttered

"Princess daddy!" carrie smiled

"yeah!"

"Why can't I be a prince? Or why arent me and mummy the king and queen?"

"No daddys a princess"

"Fine I'm a princess." I sighed

"Yay!" carrie smiled as she ran to there costume box and returned with a plastic tiara sitting it on my head "princess daddy." she smiled

"Thank you" I laughed

"no no no!" chrissy yelled "how is our fair princess every to find her handsome prince looking like this" chrissy says as she same over inspecting me like a runway manager "We need to give the princess a make over."

"yeah!" carrie smiled

"No! No girls we have had many many talks about this, daddy does not to make overs."

"But... but daddy don't you wanna play with us?" they begged

"I do wanna play with you girls but tea, or chess or monopoly. Not dress up"

They yelled and they both jumped on me, using scarf to tie me up to the chair so I couldn't escape.

They curled my hair, they did my nails both hands and feet, did my make up with there horrible make up kits, I did try and escape and tried to fight but for two small girls they are very strong.

"Uhhh Hello girls" Y/n giggled as she opened the bedroom door and giggled seeing the situation I was in "Hi benny"

"Please help me" I begged

"we're playing dress up with daddy" they both giggled

"Awww okay, have fun girls" she smiled "I'll make you little princesses some cookies"

"Yay!" they giggled running downstairs for cookies

"Noooo Please help!" I begged her before she left

"awww benny, this is the joy of having daughters" she smiled "Love you"

38 notes · View notes

glassartpeasants · 3 years

Note

If you don't make a happy ending for couldn't care less you better keep bob with you at all times

HOW DARE YOU THREATEN BOB YOU KNOW WHAT-

Couldn’t Care Less .2

Shigaraki x GN!Reader

Warnings: Angst, death, blood, abuse, gore

~~~

“i hope that blue haired fuck got what he wanted. I hope that handyman freak dies alone.” You say to yourself as you walk down the alleys way of Musutafu. The smell of the dingey and moldy alleyways flood your nose as the laughter of happy couples ring in your ears.

How come they got they’re happily ever after but you didn’t? It wasn’t fair. You did everything you could to be there for him. Yet he still treats you like shit, all because you cared about him? And then he thinks your cheating all cause you ask a male friend for advice! What an insecure asshole.

A vibrating in your pocket brought you back to reality as you realize your phone was ringing. Letting out a sigh you answer,

“Hello?”

“Come pick up your shit.” Oh, you thought you blocked this fuck.

“Keep it asshole. I don’t want anything that smells like ‘lonely bastard who only gets action from his hand’ on my clothes. Burn it, decay it, I couldn’t give a shit less.”

“God you were always so dramatic. And there’s no reason to be a cunt.”

“And there was no reason for you to be an insecure dick. You either block my number or im calling the police and ratting on you.” A silence fell over the phone. Nothing was said until you finally spoke up.

“Jeez your pathetic. I’ll do it myself.” He was about to say something, insult your most likely before you hung up the phone and blocked him not seconds later.

“Now he’s outta my hair. I can finally feel some sort of calm.”

~~~

3 weeks later

After a day of coming back to your musty apartment you decided it needed a little bit of cleaning, considering you haven’t been their in about 4 months. You paid up front all the time even when you weren’t living in it. Just in case ya know?

You swept up the floors, vacuumed the carpet AND shampooed it.Cleaned the tub, shower and sinks, cleaned out your empty refrigerator, washed all you sheets and what clothes you left there. It wasn’t much so you knew you had to get some more before anything else. That and groceries.

After all that was said and done, you sat down on the couch and just relaxed. Well you tired, that was before Shigaraki popped into your head again. It wasn’t a sort of loving way, it was a hatred sort of. The thought of his stupid face made you just want to punch a wall, pretending to be his face.

But you ignored it as you turned on the Tv, hoping that would get your mind off him. Nothing interesting except the news. Always talking about violence and war. Same old thing over and over. Blood, death, tragedy.

“This world is a cruel unjust place. The only way it seems to be recognized in this world is death or doing horrible things. Nothing good every comes to fruition.” You grumble before walking to your room and plopping down on the nice clean and still warm sheets. The nice smell of lavender slowly dragging you to sleep.

~~~

A loud bang hit your door which ripped you from your slumber. You were questioning on checking it out before you heard something that made your heart stop,

“If there’s anyone in the house kill them, we can’t have people knowing we ransacked this place.” You slowly get off your bed before moving slowly and quietly to your window. Your push your fingers on the glass and you gently push it up. Grabbing at the sides of the window you pull yourself out of it, not before hearing a gunshot and a burning pain inside your calf.

“Fuck! They’re getting away!” You could hear them from inside the house.

“Did they see you?!” You fell from your window onto the ground. Thankfully your apartment was on the first floor so it wasn’t a high drop.

“Not that i know of! I did shot them in the leg so they shouldn’t have gotten far!” You try your hardest as you run towards the main street. Cutting through alleyways, going as fast as you can as you hear they’re footsteps behind you. Looking up closely you see a hero, knowing he was your only chance you scream for help.

“Help me please!” The hero’s head turned towards you and ran towards you. You guess the robbers heard your cry for help because they’re footsteps seemed to be heading back your probably trashed apartment.

“Oh my! What happened?!” The sound of the hero’s concerned voice calmed you down a bit.

“Some people tried to rob my place and i tried to get out of there silently but they must have came into my room and saw me leaving and shot me in the calf!” You wince as putting pressure on the wound burned hotter than hell.

“Don’t worry! I’ll get you to the hospital in no time!” You felt relieved before hearing a crunching sound, you looked to your left and see a familiar patch of blue hair in your peripheral vision. You ignored him before getting picked up by the hero and was carried to the hospital. The blood loss from your calf slowly dragged you into unconsciousness.

~~~

After waking up you notice the white room you were in. It was pristine to the touch and smelled of lemon cleaning products. The bright lights hallways peered inside your room from the crack of your door.

Looking around the small feeling of pain crept back into your leg except not as painful anymore. Pulling back the covers you notice bandages and a small bit of blood that stained through the bandages around your wound.

“Ah fuck that’s gonna scar. It’s gonna be a pain to heal too.” You say to yourself as you pull back the blankets and wrap yourself up in them.

Right as you were falling back asleep the ringing of your cellphone brought you out. Grumbling in annoyance you grab it and look at the caller id. It was a number you didn’t recognize so you just let it ring thinking it’ll be the end of it. That was until it started ringing again. You sighed in frustration and picked up the phone, not wanting it to ring longer since it was in the dead of night at the hospital and you wanted people to be able to sleep.

“What the hell do you want? It’s the middle of the night.” You annoyed voice rang into the other side of the phone.

“Why tf were you talking to a hero? Did you fucking break your end of the bargain?” You were confused at first. You definitely knew the voice behind the phone. Then you remembered earlier that day when you saw him in the shadows.

“I was literally shot. You think im not gonna ask someone for help?” You rub the bridge of your nose.

“I don’t believe you. You always were a two faced bitch.”

“Oh jesus fuck, thanks for the insult. Glad to know what you always thought about me.”

“I’m going to kill you you backstabbing bitch.”

“Love ya too. goodnight and goodbye Shigaraki.” You hung up and blocked said number. You weren’t going to lie, hearing him spill such an insult and threat hurt you and made you very weary and afraid if he would actually go through with it or if he was just saying that to scare you.

You knew what those hands could do and you knew how painful that death would have been. You were hurt more than you liked to admit, at the beginning of your relationship he wasn’t aggressive or mean at all towards you. He’d try to get you flowers or your favorite type of drink. He called you pet names that would make your heart flutter and beat, you don’t know what you did wrong for him to change so suddenly. It was like on day he flipped a switch, and you never knew why.

You tried recalling the day where it started and remembered that everyone was annoyed or being rude to Dabi, you didn’t know why and when you asked Spinner or anyone else they just said it was national, be a bitch to Dabi day. You laughed and shrugged it off ignoring it before walking up to your boyfriend giving him a kiss on the lips, only to be pushed into the wall and ignored. You just looked at him in shocked and it had only spiraled down from there to where you are now.

Something had to be wrong. You knew it, Dabi had to have something to do with Shigaraki’s switch in behavior. You looked around the room for any camera and when you noticed that there were none, you called up the burnt male himself. He surprisingly picked up on the first ring.

“(Y/N)? I haven’t heard from you in 3 weeks. Or was it four? Doesn’t matter, where have you been?”

“Dabi, i need you to be honest with me, did you say something to Shigaraki?”

“Huh?”

“Dabi, five months ago Shigaraki flipped a switch and went from a caring boyfriend to an actually nightmare. I need to know if you or anyone else said something to him.” Dabi was quiet on the other line before sighing,

“About that time range i made a joke about sleeping with you, everyone knew it was a joke but apparently Shigaraki didn’t. I didn’t think he’d treat you like he did. Im sorry.” You fell silent. All this shit treatment because Shigaraki couldn’t a joke. Sure it pissed you off that Dabi made such a stupid joke but you were more mad at Shigaraki that he just treated you like shit instead of asking you and confronting you about it.

“Thank you for telling me. Do you know where Shigaraki is now?”

“He left about an hour ago, why?” Shit. You knew this was the only hospital close to your place and Shigaraki knew that too. You got up from your bed and locked the door before going back into your bed, watching the crack under your door incase the light was blocked.

“Dabi, I just want you to know that i forgive you.”

“What? What the fuck are you talking about-” Your phone went silent as the battery died.

‘Shit shit shit shit!’ you thought to yourself as you beg for the phone to turn back on. But you fell silent as the light from the outside of your room was blocked.

“(Y/N), I know you're in there, open the fucking door before i decay it down.” You said nothing in fear. You were glued to your bed as you faced the door.

But that fear was nothing compared to seeing him actually decay the door.

“You stupid snitch. i should make your death as painful as possible.” he said as soon as he stepped inside your hospital room.

“Shigaraki, I didn’t snitch I promise. Why don’t you believe me!” You say as you get off your bed and try to get as far away from him as possible. The pain of the bullet would making you wince.

“Why would I believe a cheating bitch like you?” Before you could speak a four fingered grip wrapped itself around your throat. Shigaraki was always fast, you should have known that you were gonna die even if you tried your hardest.

“I didn’t cheat on you!” You try to pry yourself from shigaraki’s grip.

“Dabi says otherwise.”

“Are you really going to believe him?! You didn’t even talk to me or ask me about it! Just went straight to believing him!” The grip on your neck got tighter.

“then why was they’re a hickey on your collarbone?!”

“You gave it to me! It was fading out!”

“That doesn’t change the fact you snitched!” His pinkie was grazing closer to your skin.

“I never snitched, I was robbed and then they shot me. If you went to my apartment you would see i was right.” He said nothing just staring at you with cold dead eyes.

“Look! I have bandages wrapped around my calf!” Shigaraki looked down before saying something back.

“It was something the hero’s did so they could protect you in this shit hospital.” I was at that moment you knew, nothing you said would change his mind. You shed not a tear while looking him in the eyes

“I wish I never met you. Fuck you Tomura Shigaraki, I hope you die alone and I’ll see you in hell.” You move your head so his last and final finger touched your skin.

The pain of your skin decaying and falling off was much more painful than you thought it would be. You can remember screaming in pain but, it felt more of a emotional scream rather than one of physical pain. but it seems you weren’t the only one screaming.

The sounds of Shigaraki wailing and screaming your name reached your ears before all you heard was silence and saw nothing.

Shigaraki scrambled to try and grab you and even put you together, but your bloody ashes stuck to his hand. Remains of your existence covered his clothes as he screamed in pain.

“No no no no! Wait please! I didn’t mean it!” He cried as his tears fell onto your ashes, the tears collecting the ashes and forming a grey tear drop. He wasn’t thinking clearly, he’s sorry! He didn’t want to kill you!

Bile rose from his throat as he puked all over the ground, inches away from your ashes. He grabbed your ashes trying to pick them up to hold what was left of you. But all he got was the remains of your smeared all over his hoodie. He shook violently as memories of you guys replayed in his mind, your happy face and the way you use to love him and care for him.

But now, you were nothing more than ashes on his sleeve, reminding him that he was now truly alone.

#tomura shigaraki #mha #bnha #tomura shigaraki x reader #tomura shiragaki #mha tomura #Shigaraki #shigaraki tomura #mha shigaraki #shigaraki x reader #never threaten bob again anon :)

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familyagrestefanblog · 3 years

Text

Theory for “Gabriel Agreste”

Saying that I'm EXCITED for this episode is an understatement, I'm THRILLED! So let me give you my speculation for what could happen in it and how it’ll affect the future, because pieces are literally just falling into place in my brain and I just have to write this down.

The episode is called" Gabriel agreste" because in this episode Gabriel will create a (long time) Sentimonster for himself that'll take his place and cover for him in his civilian life while he himself gets completely swallowed by his Hawkmoth/ShadowMoth identity (which is a direct paralell to the fate Marinette just escaped by telling Alya her secret). He doesn't want to "waste" anymore unnecessary time by having to NOT be Hawkmoth, which then completely separates him from Adrien who very much was one of the last (if not THE LAST at this point) few strings that kept him grounded in his humanity.

The episode takes place right before the middle of the season and since it's season 4 we are talking about here its fair to assume that both Adrien and Gabriel are back at (at least) suspecting each other to be Chat Noir and Hawkmoth again at some point. Adrien is going to be even more rebellious after the status quo break and set up of "Lies" so him maybe (or maybe even confirmed already to Gabriel) to be Chat Noir could definitely be the factor that sets Gabriel over the edge, rips these two apart for good (as I foresaw in my analysis of "Jackady") and brings Gabriel to distance himself altogether while covering his own identity from his son by creating a Sentimonster (bc Adriens secret being discovered by his evil family is already forshadowed to hell and back, just like him ending up getting Homeschooled again this season, mark my words)

---

"Queen Banana" is supposed to take place right before "Gabriel Agreste" and we have a leak where it's seen that Adrien is now kinda taking on Nathalies role since she is (supposedly) still bed ridden.

Seriously, just humour me here and stay with me. This would mean that Adrien would get to see and interact with his father much more often and Gabriel wouldn't be able to ditch everything and turn into Hawkmoth as easily as he was able to with Nathalie.

A cover up Sentimonster was actually already kinda forshadowed in "Party Crasher"

by introducing HoloGabe with the intention of providing Gabriel with alibis and to attend meetings etc for him in the future so Gabriel can invest more time into being Hawkmoth. But a Hologramm is not suitable for every occasion, which is where the Sentimonster comes into play.

At first Adrien wouldn't notice much off about his father and the few things he notices Adrien actually doesnt mind. If SentiGabe is really supposed to replace Gabriel as... Well, Gabriel, that also means as a FATHER and my money is on SentiGabe being created to be a better father than the original. SentiGabe does everything Adrien wanted his father to do in s1-s3: Join Adrien at dinner time, spend more time with him, is in general in better of a mood and not such an unpleasant dick and so on and so on.

Easy to say, Adrien basically welcomes the good change he always wanted in his "Father" with open arms and chooses to ignore things that seem suspicious and the always remaining gut feeling of something just being... off. This will collide with the unveiling of more of the family (+ Emilie) mystery which will for Adrien all continue to point at Gabriel as Hawkmoth because of one event that is likely to happen in episode 4.

I'm currently writing on yet another post about this topic in particular, so I will link it HERE for elaboration once I post it, but in short, I think Rena Rouge and the Grimoire secrets Marinette shears with Alya could be the catalyst of Adrien suspecting his father to be Hawkmoth again.

Adriens memories of the time he went through the Grimoire himself in "Volpina" would be triggered again after seing the Grimoire page Rena (honestly, quite recklessly) brings along into battle and from then on things will slowly pile up until Gabriel deflects from himself with SentiGabe in "Gabriel Agreste" (just like he did in “The Collector”)

People WAY to easily forget how ready and serious Adrien was in "The Collector" when he actually concidered his father to be Hawkmoth.

Keep in mind that Ladybug was only able to tell Chat Noir the weakest reasons of her suspicion against Gabriel (while the Grimoire being Guardian property was NEVER found out by Adrien... til NOW) that being Gabriels mysterious personality and the butterfly logo of his brand.

These arguments are weak because they are ONLY actually suspicious in the specific context of Gabriel being Hawkmoth. Once you have proof against that they hardly hold any ground anymore, hence why both Adrien AND Marinette so easily brushed off these points after seeing Gabriel akumatized. I mean, excuse a designer for choosing a BUTTERFLY as his logo when his last name is literally the name of a butterfly type. The fuck kind of accusation is that??

So I hope you understand that when I say that, yes, these reasons DID trigger further memories/realizations for Adrien in that moment

It simply was only the tip of the iceberg.

The fact that Adrien not only gave Ladybug the fucking benefit of a doubt and heared her out about accusing his FATHER of being HAWKMOTH and took it THAT seriously and wanted to find out if his father truly IS Hawkmoth means that Adrien very much sees his father as capable of being Paris villain Nr 1. This... understanding and acceptance of Gabriels nature already had to be in Adrien much prior to "the collector" to set it off like this. And while normally Adrien chooses to turn a blind eye towards his fathers bad qualities in favor of seeing Gabriels redeeming (and even the rare somewhat GOOD) qualities, Adrien only does so because he thinks Gabriel hasn't crossed the line yet that makes his father undeserving of these loving conciderations. But Gabriel being Hawkmoth IS CROSSING that line for Adrien and he immediately sets aside his remaining/choosen love for his heavily flawed father and willingly sees Gabriel for what he is.

Adrien already did it once with only a few somewhat solid reasons and the Grimoire being kept secret from him altogether,

So he will do it again, just this time the proofs and developments are supposed to stay for good.

---

This development would not only be forshadowed by "the collector"

But also by the episode "Ladybug". There Mayura used a Sentimonster version of Ladybug against Chat Noir, using their love against him. What she didn't know though was that Ladybug actually isn't in love with her partner (yet) which ended up with Chat Noir being put in the situation of having to decide which Ladybug he believes to be real.

Does he believe and hold onto Sentibug who returns the love he so desperately seeks in life or does he let go of his hopeful wish and accept the heartbreaking reality of once again not receiving his love in return from yet another person he holds so dear?

In "Ladybug" Adrien couldn't make that crushing decision yet (and don't clown in the replies about this, not only was the situation vastly different it's also a cruel thing to ask of Adrien) but as we are used from Miraculous by now, that episode was only the set up for future events.

What Adrien couldn't let himself believe about Ladybug and Sentibug he will have to FORCE himself to accept about his Father and Hawkmoth. Same set-up of the Sentimonster symbolising Adriens desperate and hopeful WISH what his loved one were vs the crushing, heart wrenching reality of what his loved ones actually ARE. Just that letting go of his wish for Ladybugs love didnt seem "necessary enough" for the mission to succeed so he just couldn't MAKE himself give her up whereas accepting and seeing that his father is Hawkmoth is going to be one of the most crucial sacrifices of the show, changing the game forever. So as horrible, cruel and soul shattering as this is, putting an end to his fathers villainous reign for the sake of the greater good is a reason worthy enough to force himself through his pain.Which brings us once again back to “The collector” (which seriously forshadows almost everything I love that episode), because there is ONE major aspect that episodes sets up like crazy

And that is:

And thats where we are heading now.

This entire time Adrien wanted his Father to behave more fatherly, spend more time with him and improve his explosive behavior but he always got disappointed over and over again. So how heartbreaking would it be if over the course of the second half of the season THIS would be the very reason why Adrien gets behind Gabriels secret? Because SentiGabe behaved too fatherly for Adrien to truly buy it in his heart and when forced to decide what he actually believes his father to be - like the fatherly Sentimonster or the villainous Hawkmoth - Adrien has to and WILL recognize and accept his fathers true nature and turn against him, as it has been set up for a LONG time now.

This season shit’s about to go DOWN!

#Miraculous #Miraculous Ladybug #Ml spoilers #Ml Theory #Ml season 4 #Episode: Gabriel Agreste #Adrien Agreste #Chat Noir #Gabriel Agreste #Hawkmoth #Agreste family drama #or tragedy #thats more like it #SentiGabe #I am so EXCITED for this episode!!!#Ml analysis

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call-me-aesthetic · 3 years

Text

If Twisted Wonderland was an American Public School

WARNING: There are some slight sensitive topics that are featured in here! Reader discretion is advised!

Part 2 can be found here

Heartslabyul

Riddle Rosehearts:

- That one preppy girl who takes all honors and AP classes 😑

- Wants everyone to know that he’s becoming a doctor one day for his strict parents or he’ll dishonor the family

- Reminds the teacher about homework, knowing well that he’ll get slander for it

- Complains about how he got a 90 on his test or a B on his report card, a try hard much?

- Wears a cardigan with thicc but cute glasses since he’s one of those people with can’t see shit on the board so he has to move to the front of the class

Ace Trappola:

- The SoundCloud rapper, that’s it

- “Wanna listen to my mixtape? It’s pretty fire, my guy.” 😩🔥

- You will not miss him BLASTING out some song on his Bluetooth speaker, that shit be echoing through the hallways

- Tells you to stop what you’re doing only for him to either sing horribly or do a backflip, thinking that he’s so cool

- Wears a Supreme jacket with AirPods and waves on his head

Deuce Spade:

- Assuming that he’s still a delinquent, he’s that kid with the most fucked up school record

- Not much of a bully but will still talk shit to your face without caring, might even throw stuff at you during a lesson and you would be the one getting in trouble instead of him 🗿

- If he ever gets mad, it would be overdramatic like kicking the desks, punching the lockers, or walking out of the classroom unannounced and everyone would look at each other wondering wtf happened

- Covers the entire desks with drawings of skulls and those “s” if you know what I mean

- Wears Champion hoodies, wants you to know that he’s broke and rich at the same time

Trey Clover:

- The guy that’s not really popular but everyone knows him since he’s in all their classes

- Most people might have a crush on him because he’s REALLY nice 😳👉👈

- Gives off “older brother” vibes based on the way he looks and acts, like offering you a ride home if you beg ask nicely

- Secretly bakes creme brulee but doesn’t want to mess with the flow so he sticks to the status quo

- Wears the school’s hoodie just because he thinks it looks good on him, and the fact that he doesn’t know what else to wear

Cater Diamond:

- Hot Cheetos girl 🥵

- Has a whole buffet of food in his backpack and will not hesitate to eat them during a lesson, no sharing either sorry

- Excuses himself to the bathroom or full on skips class just to film a Tiktok

- Has about 100 followers on Instagram Magicam and brags about how he’s famous

- Wears a Thrasher hoodie with large hoop earrings and his hair in a bun

Savanaclaw

Leona Kingscholar:

- The kid who flunked their freshman year that also sort of vibes with new classmates

- Always gets mistaken as a teacher by people since he looks and sounds old

- Knows the lessons but still fails them anyways, didn’t really give a damn either 🙄

- Captain of every sports club you can think of, never actually plays but has a lot of knowledge on them

- Wears the school’s letterman from years ago since it used to be his brother’s and that he’s too lazy to buy a new one

Ruggie Bucchi:

- That one kid who NEVER has money for the book fair or any other school event

- Always has to ask his classmates for some cash

- If he somehow does, then he’s one of those kids who buys Diary of the Wimpy Kid or the World Record books

- If he’s feeling cheap, he’ll buy the “cool stuff” like the chocolate scented calculator or fruit snacks 😭

- Wears oversized hoodies and basketball shorts that are clearly hand-me-downs

Jack Howl:

- That one athletic kid who’s both scary good and competitive when it comes to school games like football or soccer

- Literally the best player on his team and without him, they’re trash as hell 💀

- Tries his absolute best to support his teammates without yelling at them for how dumb they are

- “KICK THE FUCKING BALL! DO YOUR LEGS EVEN WORK?!”

- Wears the school’s jersey just to show off his “school spirit”

Octavinelle

Azul Ashengrotto:

- The kid who sell snacks for “charity” but everyone knows he’s keeping the money to himself

- If you don’t have cash or try to negotiate with him, the only thing he’ll do is raise the price up

- “What do you mean you don’t have ten bucks? I can see it in your pocket.”

- Just bring nothing with you, he’ll doing anything to steal your stuff 🤭

- Wears a collar shirt with a tie and khakis that have pockets to keep his glasses and money in

Jade Leech:

- The kid who puts on a goody two shoes facade but is actually a stoner

- Only does “safe” drugs like vape but occasionally smokes weed, mostly in the bathroom or behind the school 🌬

- Can play it off and hide the scent when he’s high, teachers never suspect anything from him

- No one really cares to stop him unless he gets caught or something idk

- Wears clothing that either makes him look like a businessman or a junky, there’s nothing in between

Floyd Leech:

- The kid that’s plays basketball or volleyball just because he’s hella tall, and is actually good at the sports but doesn’t put much effort into them

- Always stays behind after gym, even though the teacher tries to make him leave for his next class 😬

- “I swear after this one shot, I’ll go to class.” *He never made that shot*

- Will jump you no matter who or where you are, and will get angry if you step on his new shoes

- Wears the jersey of any famous team with the latest pair of Jordan sneakers

Scarabia

Kalim Al Asim:

- VSCO girl at best, don’t lie to me now 🤡

- The only words he knows are “And I oop– sksksk.” and “Save the turtles.”

- Walks during a track meet while everyone else is running and sweating hard, the teacher doesn’t care either

- Doesn’t really do anything in gym but talks to his classmates and stands near the water fountain to refill his Hydro flask

- Wears tie dye shirts with cute scrunchies

Jamil Viper:

- That one quiet kid who everybody thinks is a serial killer but he’s actually not, I swear

- He just wants school to be over and spend the rest of his summer relaxing 😔

- Although he shouldn’t abuse his “power,” he‘ll move his hands in his pockets or backpack to make it look like he’s about to pull a weapon out.

- “Chill, I’m just grabbing a pencil.” *Everyone in the class started crying*

- Wears dark colored hoodies that intimidates people but are actually comfy

Pomefiore

Vil Schoenheit:

- The baddie popular girl 😌💅✨

- Arrives to school late with a Starbucks in hand from his local Target

- Fixes himself every 5 seconds like reapplying his lipgloss or spraying Bath and Body Works cherry blossom perfume

- Uses acrylic nails and long hair extensions as weapons during a cat fight

- Wears a crop top with ripped jeans and those clout sunglasses

Rook Hunt:

- That creepy guy in the hallways who tries to get your attention, even if you don’t know him

- Scares people when he says, “Ayo, where my hug at?” 🥶💯

- Uses at least 10 cans of Axe body spray a week after gym class, which stinks up the locker rooms

- Waves at you if he passes your class, even walking into the room just to say hi

- Wears literally anything but always include a hat

Epel Felmier:

- The artist girl who just wants to be alone 🧑‍🎨

- Purposely draws in front of you but pretends like you’re not looking

- If you complement him, he’ll just brush it off and proceeds to diss himself

- “Thanks but I’m not THAT good at drawing, teehee.” *Insert Radio Rebel face*

- Wears a hoodie or a cardigan with big pockets to put his art supplies in

Ignihyde

Idia Shroud:

- I don’t even need to tell you who he is, y’all already know ahaha 🥴

- Sneaks a whole PlayStation in his backpack so he can play with it during lunch

- Is on his phone 24/7 even in class to the point where teachers don’t care anymore

- Tries to get people into anime but only to little success

- Wears a shirt of any anime character or that damn ahegao hoodie, girl bye

Ortho Shroud:

- The nerdy kid who’s known for destroying others at many games

- Plays classics like D&D, Yugioh, Pokémon, the whole shabang

- Daily Beyblade battles during recess with everyone surrounding him, the menacing aura radiates off of him

- Will steal your things if you lose to him but gives it back a week later cuz he’s sweet 🥰

- Wears light up Sketchers shoes and those Minecraft shirts you find at Old Navy

Diasomnia

Malleus Draconia:

- The theatre kid who also goes to band practice, change my mind 👁👄👁

- Takes his role seriously when it comes to school plays and concerts, even if he gets casted as a damn tree or doesn’t go solo

- Remembers the songs and their lyrics to any musical you name, a really good singer at that too

- Plays almost every instrument, you definitely know this since you can hear him down the hallways during a test

- Wears a white button up shirt, black pants with fancy dress shoes, and top it all off with a fricking Rolex watch

Lilia Vanrouge:

- The weird guy who pranks people and vandalizes school property in every way possible

- If you ever get a textbook with a message that tells you to go to a certain page only for you to found a picture of a dick, yeah that was him 😒

- When using a Chromebook, he’ll leave a tab open on YouTube so when the next person uses it, pray that your ears will still work by tomorrow

- During lunch, he is a literal DEMON that mixes milk with chicken nuggets together and having the audacity to eat it too

- Wears an oversized raincoat or a windbreaker but idk wtf kind of things he has hiding underneath

Silver:

- That guy in class who consumes Monster energy drinks and falls asleep 99% of the time but somehow manages to pass the class 🤷

- Whenever he’s awake, he’ll talk to the teachers since he’s basically friends with them for some reason

- Writes his name out of boredom on any desk you sit on but in different places, sometimes around the corners or the sides

- Has a sixth sense because he’ll wake up if you try to draw on his face and if you did get something on him, it’s on sight

- Wears those colorful hoodies that zips all the way up to cover his face with a matching backpack, it’s pretty cool ngl

Sebek Zigvolt:

- That kid who literally knows everything about historical wars and will show it off during class

- Also has knowledge on weaponry, which has people questioning him but he’s just very dedicated on serving his country and people

- Knows how to fight and defend himself from a bitch since he spent his summer at a military boot camp, put respect on my man’s name 😤

- Honestly a great partner for a group project, actually does the given work but not the whole thing for you

- Wears anything that has camo pattern and chunky combat boots

I only made this because me and my friends were talking about our school memories so yeah. This is based from my experience so they might not be exactly accurate. Might even be a part two if you want.

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goddess-of-green · 3 years

Note

More Tobi please !!! It’s so good 😫🙌 I love ur writing so much 😊

I'm running out of Tobi gifs you guys (Part 2 here!)

Warnings: Language, suggestive themes, submissive reader

"Yay! It must be Tobi's lucky day!" Tobi exclaimed as he threw down his cards—his winning cards.

You paled.

This generally wouldn't be such a problem.

Sure, Tobi was suspiciously good at Poker when he needed to be, but you never minded when he beat you by a landslide and proceeded to gloat until one of the other Akatsuki members had to shut him up.

Although, since you didn't really want to wager money on the game -your savings had been dwindling recently and you jumped at any opportunity to save some extra Ryo- you and Tobi decided to instead, make a bet.

If you won, Tobi would be at your beck and call for 24 hours; if Tobi won, you would be at his beck and call for 24 hours.

You knew such a bet could go either horribly wrong or horribly right.

However, you hadn't really let the implications of being at Tobi's beck and call hit you until you saw that winning hand.

Tobi was completely unpredictable and a known troublemaker.

He was always 'innocently' finding ways to insult people or taunt them. You were fairly sure he had some weird sadistic hobby to see how far he could bend people before they reacted violently.

You and Tobi had meshed so well in the organization because you were extremely patient and always reacted positively to Tobi's teasing and jabs.

After a while, Tobi seemed to realize that his taunting and teasing wouldn't make you upset, so he claimed you as his "best friend" and took to following you around in his freetime, you being the only one who could handle his overbearing and deliberately annoying nature.

Tobi loved to cause trouble and make fun of people. Despite his 'innocent' nature, you knew his humor was a little twisted at best.

What the hell did I get myself into?

Tobi was giggling like madman at your expression, a hand raised to where his mouth would be to ineffectively muffle his snickers.

"Y/N-Chan's time starts now! She has to be Tobi's maid for a whole day!" Tobi cheered, throwing his arms up into the air.

You blinked.

Maid?

Fuck.

"M-Maid?" You asked, already knowing that no matter what he responded with you were screwed.

Tobi giggled a bit more, "Yep! Tobi's even got Y/N-Chan a cute little outfit to wear while she does everything Tobi desires~" Tobi explained, his amusement coming off him in waves.

Maid? 'Cute little Outfit'? Tobi's desires!? God, help me.

You sighed, "Very well, Tobi."

"Actually, Y/N-Chan...there's something else Tobi would like you to call him~"

Here you are, dressed in a maid outfit.

A frilly black and white choker secured around your neck and your hair down, your top doing nothing to hide your cleavage, and your skirt giving you about two inches of leeway.

If you so much as bent over, your panties would be revealed to anyone in the vicinity. To top it all off, you had a white waist apron with little frills on the ends.

It covered even less than your skirt.

Kami, where did I go wrong? What did I do to deserve this?

Your internal lamenting is brought to halt as you hear Tobi cooing at you.

"Y/N-Chan~ you look so nice, all dressed up for Tobi like this~" He put his gloved hands on your hips, pulling you closer to him as he continued to inspect your form.

You swallowed, "Thank you, Tobi~Sama." You said softly, as he had requested you call him.

You blushed in embarrassment as you said it, unintentionally making yourself look even cuter as you looked up at him through your lashes, hoping he wouldn't make fun of you.

Tobi was unusually silent as he stared at your inadvertently coy expression. His hands still on your hips, and his expression unreadable through his mask.

After a moment, he started giggling.

"Y/N-Chan is such a good little maid for Tobi~ Tobi has a feeling he's going to enjoy this very much~" Tobi purred as he brought his arms up to wrap around your waist and buried his masked face into your neck; his body snuggling into yours in the process.

You gulped as his warm body encased yours.

Is it just me or is it a little hot in here?

You would have tugged on your collar if you had one.

Tobi pulled away from the embrace with excitement as he grabbed your hand.

"Alright Y/N-Chan, you're going to make some for lunch for your master, and then we're going to play a game~" Tobi said brightly, a teasing tone slipping through his usual beaming attitude.

Something about the way Tobi said "game" raised some flags, but you complied nonetheless.

You certainly didn't want to give Tobi a reason to punish you, as he had warned.

You shuttered at the implications.

He didn't mention or signal any sort of sexual things happening, but you could never be too careful. This entire situation was more than a little suspicious.

He's already made it clear he's got a pervy side, if the outfit was anything to go by.

You sighed lowly as Tobi's hand slipped from yours and he wandered off to wait in the living area of the base while you prepared him something to eat.

"It's too bad Tobi has his mask, or he would love to have Y/N~Chan feed him~" Tobi sighed wistfully as he walked off.

Clearly talking to himself, but you were sure he meant for you to hear.

You blushed at the thought, shaking your head to rid yourself of such thoughts as you continued on your way to the Akatsuki base's kitchen.

After you finally washed your hands and got to actually making something for Tobi, you ran into a little roadblock.

You had no idea what kind of food Tobi liked, or even if he had any allergies. He rarely ever ate around you, and when he did you tried not to stare at him too much and respect his privacy.

(Even though you were definitely curious as to what lied underneath his infamous orange mask.)

Even if you had paid attention, you doubt you would have caught much anyway.

Tobi is very sneaky when it comes to keeping his face hidden, and his food is off the plate and in his mouth faster than anyone can even tell what he was eating.

"He's so annoying all the time, yeah! The least he could do is let me catch a glimpse of his damn mug for once, un!"

You smirked as you recalled Deidara's ranting.

Remembering your situation, your smirk slipped away as you considered your options.

You could take a stab in the dark and make something that Tobi may or may not like, or you could go back out and ask Tobi what he wanted.

Neither were very good options.

If you took a wild guess then you would risk Tobi either not liking what you made or having an allergic reaction to it.

The last thing you wanted was to make Tobi sick or unhappy, but going back out to ask posed its own risks.

If you went out into the living room to ask Tobi what he wanted to eat then there was a good chance one of the other members would see you.

Then, they would ask questions.

You knew that Tobi wouldn't hesitate to embarrass you and go into great detail about how you were his cute little maid who would do anything to "satisfy" him.

Your face heated up in embarrassment just thinking about it.

You sighed, biting your lip as you ran through the pros and cons in your head.

You wilted after a moment, your morality winning the internal battle.

Discarding your dignity, and swallowing the last of your pride, you turned around to exit the kitchen and go find Tobi.

"But D-Deidara-Senpai! Tobi's not lying! He swears!" Tobi exclaimed, waving his hands around wildly as if that helped his case.

"Tch. Sure Tobi, un. You really expect me to believe that you got Y/N to be your maid?" Deidara scoffed.

It was then that you peaked from the hallway. Calling Tobi's name and desperately hoping that he was alone.

"Ah! Y/N-Chan! Impeccable Timing~!" Tobi said happily, Deidara snapping his head over towards you to see if Tobi really wasn't lying.

Uh oh.

Your face flamed as you tried to retreat back into the hallway, Tobi one step ahead of you, grabbing your wrist and pulling you into the living area for Deidara to see.

Deidara's eyes widened as he looked over your form, clad in a skimpy maid outfit complete with the lacy little headdress on top.

Deidara slowly but surely flushed, before turning to Tobi.

"I want in." Deidara said earnestly.

Your face flamed and you literally wanted to die in a hole of pitiful embarrassment.

Completely appalled, Tobi gasped quite dramatically at Deidara's words and pulled you close, as if protecting you. "Deidara-Senpai! You can't! Y/N-Chan is Tobi's maid! And Tobi doesn't think you would appreciate her like Tobi does!" Tobi said indignantly as he snuggled into your chest.

Good lord, you felt like your face was permanently pink today. From all this excitement you had nearly forgotten what you came out to ask-

"What?! Tobi! You can't keep her all to yourself like this! You're being selfish!" Deidara yelled.

"Nuh-uh senpai! Tobi won Y/N-Chan's free will fair and square! And why would Tobi share? This way she's all mine~" Tobi exclaimed, trailing off into a creepy giggle at the end.

It's like they're two kids fighting over a new toy... You sighed.

You blushed when you realized that you were the toy.

Before Deidara could fire back or you could finally ask what the hell Tobi wanted to eat, something awful happened.

Hidan walked in.

It took him five seconds to skim his eyes over your form, Tobi's face pressed into your chest and Deidara blushing... and burst into laughter.

"Pfft Hahahaha, what the hell kind of kinky shit is going on in here?" Hidan howled, bent over and holding his stomach from laughter.

Tobi hurriedly let go of you and turned around, putting his arms in front of you as if to hide you. "Nothing Hidan-Senpai! Y-You don't have all the information!" Tobi exclaimed, his slightly shaky voice not convincing anyone.

"Tch. Tobi got Y/N to be his maid, and he's keeping this opportunity all to himself!" Deidara scoffed, crossing his arms indignantly.

Interest piqued, Hidan walked over to you, promptly pushing Tobi out of the way and grabbing your jaw.

"His maid, huh? And just how'd he manage that...?" Hidan said, his voice quieter and more husky since he was so close to your face.

You tried to repress the shiver that threatened to crawl down your spine...Hidan had always creeped you out.

Before you could stutter out a response, you felt a stinging on your ass.

Oh my-

He pinched my ass!

You squeaked involuntarily and pushed Hidan off you, Deidara starting to fume as he realized what happened.

"Hey man! Don't touch her like that, un!" He exclaimed, though he probably wanted to do the same thing.

"Hidan!" Tobi gasped, rushing over to pick you up bridal style and cradle you in his arms.

"No one is allowed to touch Y/N-Chan like that! She is Tobi's!" He exclaimed, and you would have been happy for his defense if he didn't keep referring to you as 'his'.

Deidara and Hidan were now straight up fighting, Tobi's yelling falling on deaf ears.

The lewd things Deidara and Hidan were saying about you as they fought had you desperately hiding your burning face in Tobi's chest.

Tobi pet your hair in a soothing manner before running off, with you still in his arms.

"It's too dangerous out here with all the other members! Y/N-Chan will just have to serve Tobi in his room! Alone~"

Lunch completely forgotten, you worried for what was to come as Tobi carried you off, Deidara and Hidan still wrestling on the floor.

It was then that Kisame and Itachi walked in, just in time to hear Tobi's exclamation as they saw you being carried off by Tobi while Deidara and Hidan were rolling around the floor and pulling at each other's hair.

#naruto #akatsuki #tobi #tobi uchiha #obito #obito uchiha #tobi x reader #tobi uchiha x reader #obito x reader #obito uchiha x reader #akatsuki x reader #hidan #deidara #kisame #itachi #kisame hoshigaki #itachi uchiha

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