#never will be able to find them attractive rip

[forbiddennhoney]

i truly wish i found any of the trendy "lesbian crushes" attractive but the reality is they are all....... SO boring to me

[starglitterz]

♡ SPICY. // PART TWO

❝ tell me what you see when you look at me, 'cause i am a ten out of ten, honestly. ❞ // attractive things the genshin men do <3

✧ feat ; albedo, dainsleif, gorou, itto, kazuha, lyney, neuvillette, scaramouche, tighnari, zhongli x gn!reader

✧ warning(s) ; fluff, suggestive, (kinda???) modern au for itto, extremely suggestive for itto + neuvi

✧ a/n ; woahhh it's been like ten thousand years since the release of part one but here's part 2 finally ! i doubt anyone was actively waiting for this LOL but regardless i hope you enjoy it!

part one︱part two

✦ as an alchemist, you’d expect ALBEDO to always be in a white lab coat stained with all manner of chemicals, but he’s the opposite – he’s always dressed to the nines in formalwear, with his trademark coat layered on top of it to keep him from freezing in dragonspine. he only ever removes it when he’s visiting you in mondstadt. in the quiet of your peaceful apartment, albedo will be busy preparing dinner, and you feel like a starving victorian man when you see him roll his sleeves up, exposing the rare sight of his pale wrists. his fingers are long and slender too, but there’s something about the way the white fabric of his dress shirts clings to his forearms, emphasising his lean muscle and making you wonder if you’re drooling. you’re pretty sure he’s caught you staring way too many times, but he always just gives you a soft smile – he can’t understand why you’d admire him like this when you’re the one he’s always believed to be a masterpiece.

✦ dating DAINSLEIF is a quiet affair. he’s not one for over-the-top gestures or grand proclamations of his love, but he never fails to make it known that he absolutely adores you with his whole heart. between the two of you, you’re the one who always talks more, always chattering away endlessly about your latest fancy. but no matter what you’re prattling on about, dainsleif will always tilt his head and gaze at you as if you’re giving a speech on the most interesting topic in the world. he’ll even have a small smile gracing his lips, his usually stern expression now softening into one far more gentle. he’ll even nod and ask all the right questions, proving that he was paying attention the entire time. and if you ever feel guilty for talking so much, he’ll instantly reassure you that your voice is music to his ears, and if he could he’d listen to it forever. 

✦ some days, it’s like GOROU can’t even believe he’s dating you. he’s just so adorable, getting incredibly flustered whenever you even breathe in his direction. his face turns bright red and he starts stumbling over his words, barely able to string together words into coherent sentences. or if by some miracle he manages to keep his composure, his tail is a dead giveaway – it’ll be wagging at the speed of light whenever you praise him. you could be doing the most mundane tasks like laundry or washing dishes, and he’d still look at you with heart eyes as if you hung the very stars in the sky. 

✦ without a doubt, ITTO has no clue how attractive he is. once you move in together, he’ll just always walk around shirtless, even though you squeal in surprise whenever you see him. i mean c’mon, who could blame you? the oni is ripped thanks to all the hours he spends at the gym, and when you see his muscles flexing, showing off the gleaming red tattoos illustrated across his back and torso, you have to excuse yourself because you swear you’re seriously about to start barking. to make things worse, he always pairs it with those stupid baggy grey sweatpants that make you actually want to pounce on him – it’s always a struggle to keep your eyes on his face. you’re beginning to think he knows the effect though, because you always end up in the bedroom together when he wears them. 

✦ KAZUHA is the type of boyfriend who adores casual skinship. wherever you are, he’ll always find some way to touch you – whether it’s an arm wrapped around your waist, his head leaning on your shoulder, his fingers intertwined with yours… the list is endless. but his absolute favourite has to be when you wear shorts. one of his hands somehow always ends up on your thigh, his thumb rubbing circles into your skin. it isn’t necessarily heated, it’s just comforting for him to know you’re there beside him. but you’re aware of his intentions whenever he starts doing it under the table in public, merely tilting his head to give you a playful smirk and a wink that’s imperceptible to anyone else. 

✦ the entirety of fontaine knows that LYNEY is a flirtatious rascal. yet with you, he thinks he’s met his match. the two of you are constantly bantering, attempting to outdo one another in gifts and pick-up lines and dates – lynette says you both are more like competitors than partners. however, it’s just the way the both of you show affection. but there’s one move that LYNEY knows will always guarantee him the win. you’ll be chattering away, planning out your next date, and suddenly his magician hands are at your waist, fingers slipping into your belt loops to tug you closer before pressing a mischievous kiss on your lips. your shocked and flustered expression always makes his day. 

✦ as the iudex of fontaine, it makes sense that NEUVILLETTE is not one for tomfoolery. but when it comes from you, he always seems to accept whatever pranks or teasing you throw his way. but sometimes, if you’re acting up too much in public, all it takes is one look from him to set you back in line. his dark blue eyes narrow as he glances at you, lifting one brow as if to ask if you’re really willing to keep going like this. that decision is up to you – will you continue misbehaving, crossing the line to see just what he’ll do? or will you be good and quiet down in the hopes that he’ll reward you? 

✦ everybody knows that SCARAMOUCHE is a brat. that doesn’t change when he somehow becomes your boyfriend. he likes pushing your buttons, always wondering when you’re going to tip over the edge. even just simple requests will prompt him to reply ‘“oh yeah?” “make me.” “mhmm.”’ and it drives you up the wall. not just because it’s annoying, but also because it’s strangely attractive to see the way he raises his eyebrow and leans back in his seat, a smug smirk playing about his lips. but fear not, the easiest way to get him to behave is just by grabbing his collar and pulling him into a kiss. he’ll be so surprised that he’ll instantly go do whatever you told him to just so that you don’t see his blushing face.

✦ it’s 100% a green flag when men are willing to explain things to you instead of assuming you wouldn’t be able to grasp the concept, and TIGHNARI is a shining example of this. as the chief of the forest rangers, he’s extremely well-versed on everything related to sumeru’s jungles, and this extends to skills outside of foraging, as he’s also talented at cooking and preparing medicines. if you’re curious or eager to learn, he’ll always explain it to you in a way that makes it easy for you to understand, and even if you don’t, he’s very patient, and will answer every single one of your questions no matter how dumb you may think they are until you get it. seeing the proud smile on his face once you successfully achieve whatever he taught you is more than enough incentive for you to rush to learn even more from your beloved boyfriend.

✦ ZHONGLI is the type of lover that comes once in a millenia (which is probably how long he’s been alive too). he’s the whole package; sweet, caring, smart, not to mention handsome! (the only problem is that he’s constantly broke…) you’re lucky to have him as your boyfriend, and the first time you realised this was when the two of you were walking through a busy crowd in liyue’s bustling harbour while trying to run some errands. upon sensing your discomfort at how the strangers were unintentionally jostling you and bumping into the two of you, ZHONGLI wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him to put more space between you and everyone else walking past. once the crowd thins out, he’ll guide you with his hand on the small of your back, the warmth a gentle reminder that he’ll always be there for you. 

yeah sorry i deserve to be sent to horny jail for some of these 😭 HAHAHA js be glad cyno was in part one bc the things i want to do to that man... Unspeakable

© starglitterz 2024. do not repost or modify in any way – reblog / follow if you enjoyed !

[fragilefable]

nobody's son, nobody's daughter.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Fem!Reader Rating: Mature (18+ minors DNI) Summary: When you and Joel get separated the night of the outbreak, you spend the next decade searching for him. Just when you've given up— a miracle occurs. Warnings: heavy angst, canon typical violence, character death (sarah), discussions of grief, very brief mention of suicidal ideation, alcohol used to cope, depression, suggestive language, lovers reunited, hurt/comfort, happy ending.

Word Count: 6.6k Currently Playing: Chemtrails Over the Country Club by Lana Del Rey ♪

A/N: This piece has been months in the making, hours of rereading and rewriting. This is my love child. I'm possibly (definitely) planning a part 2 with smut... ;) I am a full-time college student who unfortunately has other responsibilities, so please be patient with me. My first lengthy piece in a while, so please be kind & enjoy my doves!

Sleep was the most convenient temporary escape available in the post-cordyceps world. Oftentimes, if you were lucky enough, with sleep came dreams—glimpses of a divine, utopian life. One without spores or fungi of any kind. There was, however, always the chance that with it came nightmares—Polaroids of the past, the uprising of the infection. Mothers clutching bloodied children, decaying men ripping open flesh with their savage teeth, and, worst of all— losing Joel Miller. 

Joel was... everything—neighbor, friend, lover. Joel hated that word— laughed every time it managed to escape your lips in a hushed whisper, but that was what you were to each other. It transcended explanation. You'd moved to Austin after college in hopes of starting over, a clean slate. Instead, you'd stumbled upon a single father and his then 11-year-old daughter. You fit into their life like the missing puzzle piece— you completed them. Sarah needed a motherly presence in her life. There was only so much Joel could do for the blossoming young woman. 

And Joel— Joel never knew what he was missing until you came along. Someone to be able to rely on, to love unconditionally, a fixed constant. To say he fell head over heels was an understatement, but it became so much more than physical attraction. It became something far more profound and terrifying— love. The kind of love only poets write about. It was fierce, at times agonizing. That's what made losing him all the more heartbreaking. 

You were with Sarah the night of the outbreak— Joel's birthday. Lounging around in plaid pajamas, waiting for Joel to get home from work. Despite being exhausted, Sarah was beaming with pride over her birthday present for her dad— his broken wristwatch now repaired and refurbished. You smiled mischievously, "And just where did you get the money to fix this, young lady?" Sarah grinned slyly, "Just lyin' around, it's not like he noticed it was missin'!" Hours passed, you and Sarah slumped against the couch: Fast asleep, soft snores escaping mouths, drool dribbling down chins. 

The sight made Joel's heart quaver in his chest. Kicking off his muddied work boots, he carefully plopped down in between the two sleeping figures, planting a gentle kiss on the crown of your head. "Hmm. You're home," you stirred awake, drowsy eyes met with a welcome sight: Weathered tan skin and dark chocolate curls. "Hey, Darlin'. You outta head up to bed. I'll be up soon." You nodded faintly, planting a chaste kiss on Sarah's forehead: "Goodnight, sweet girl." 

You fell fast asleep as soon as your body hit Joel's mattress, his scent engulfing you like a blanket of safety— a shield of sorts. The vague smell of sawdust and pine soap conquered your senses, a heavenly combination. An hour later, you felt the bed dip down, strong arms circling your waist.

Frantic hands shook you awake, calling your name weakly: "I can't find Dad. N' somethin' weird is goin' on outside." You sat up, Sarah's urgency pulling you from your hazy half-asleep state. "Don't worry, sweetheart, I'll call him. Go back to bed." Sarah ignored your suggestion and sat beside you as you reached for the landline. The call went to voicemail without hesitation: "Huh... That's weird." 

Sarah grew more anxious by the second, "I'm gonna go check the driveway for his truck." Sarah shot up from the bed, feet pattering down the stairs. "Sarah! Wait, I'll come with-" Throwing on your Converse, you hastily ran out after her. Your tired eyes scanned the pavement but found no signs of Sarah or Joel's truck. The Adler's door was wide open; you huffed: "Sarah?" 

The Adler's house was pitch black and eerily quiet, the family's dog nowhere to be seen: "Sarah? This is trespassing!" Tiptoeing through the living room, you halted at the sight of a ruby trail— blood. Grotesque, wet noises filled the previously silent house: "Sarah?" The teen bolted out of the kitchen, grabbing your hand and pulling you towards the front door: "Run!" Mrs. Adler scrambled after Sarah, mouth dribbling crimson liquid, no longer bound to her wheelchair. 

"What the fuck–" Sarah's grip on your hand tightened as you passed through the door and stumbled onto the pavement. A pair of familiar brown eyes scanned Sarah's figure and then yours: "Sarah? Darlin'? Are ya'll ok-" Joel's words were cut off when Mrs. Adler dashed through the front door, her figure lunging for you. 

Joel struck the side of her head with a wrench as you made a feeble attempt to crawl away. His strikes were lethal, and yet the elder kept thrashing against the ground. "Joel, stop!" Only then did you notice Tommy, Joel's younger brother, behind you, coaxing Sarah into the truck. 

Joel exhausted Mrs. Adler with one final swing, dropping the bloodied wrench beside him and wiping his shaky hands on his jeans. His gaze softened when he saw your timid frame— shaking and unmoving. "Darlin'... Baby, are you okay?" His hands found your shoulders, rubbing soothing circles on a patch of exposed skin. You hesitated; Joel had just killed Mrs. Adler in cold blood— but she tried to kill you and Sarah first. 

Joel hurriedly hoisted you to your feet, "We gotta go, okay baby? It's not safe here." You clambered into the backseat beside Sarah, the girl's arms thrown around you tightly. Kissing the crown of her head, you reassured her: "It's okay, sweetheart, everything's okay." 

Neighbors began to exit their homes, baffled and disturbed by the sight of Mrs. Adler's bloody, lifeless body lying in the yard. Someone called out for Joel. He immediately instructed her to go back inside and lock the doors. Tommy beckoned Joel into the car, exiting the culdesac and taking off towards the highway. After a fleeting moment, you mustered up the courage to ask, "Joel, what's going on?" Tommy replied, "They're sayin' it's a virus- some kinda parasite." Sarah spoke up, tears forming, "Are we sick?" Joel shot the idea down immediately. 

Tommy and Joel continued bickering, your eyes glued to the road ahead: "Joel! Look- It's Jimmy's place." The two-story farmhouse was completely engulfed in flames, unrecognizable. Your hands clung to Sarah, burrowing her head into your neck: "It's okay, sweet girl." Police sirens rang out through the darkness, interrupted by soft pleas for help. A family was stranded on the side of the road, begging for aid. Tommy began to slow the car. "What're you doin'?" Joel firmly questioned. Tommy shot back, "Got a kid, Joel." 

"So do we. Keep drivin'," Joel spat. Tommy sped back up, eyes searching Joel's for an explanation: "Somebody else will come along." As Tommy approached the interstate, the sounds of disgruntled drivers grew louder: "Fuck! Everybody had the same fuckin' idea. I can't get through this." Joel gripped the dashboard, "All right, all right. Let's think it through," he paused for a moment, "All right, take the field! We cut across, and we pick up on the west side." Tommy steered right, the truck jerking on the uneven terrain. As he drove over the hill, helicopters and tanks came into view, "Shit. Fuckin' army." 

Sarah peered out from behind the seat, "Isn't that good?" Your voice was filled with hesitation, "That's the highway we need to get to." Joel and Tommy argued, eventually continuing toward a town just east of the highway. Sarah stilled, "Maybe it's everywhere. Maybe there's nowhere to go." A booming roar erupted, Tommy twisting his body to get a better look at the night sky: "What the fuck?!" Commercial airplanes flew overhead, merely hundreds of feet above the ground. You instinctively covered Sarah's ears with your hands, eyes wrenching shut at the deafening rumble of their engines. Tommy swerved to avoid a police blockade ahead, turning into a nearby alleyway. 

The streets were flooded with screaming civilians, running in every direction— no one sure who exactly they were running from. A hoard of people fled from inside a movie theater, causing Tommy to shift the truck's gear into reverse. "Dad?" Sarah called out, "Dad!" Joel turned; an airplane was rapidly descending— heading straight towards town, "Shit. Move!" As the plane made contact with the ground, a mushroom cloud of fire and smoke bloomed, causing Tommy to lose control of the truck. 

A strong hand shook your leg, "Darlin'? Stay right there, don't move." Your side ached, cool liquid flowing from your head. Beside you, Sarah quickly came to, her eyes shifting to the figure hunched outside of the flipped car, clawing at the corpse of an older man. "Sarah, baby, don't look. C'mere, put your arms around me." As Joel carefully unearthed Sarah from the mangled truck, you climbed out of the shattered window: Hissing as you shifted against your arm. Sarah tried to put weight on her leg, provoking muffled whimpers and cries at the attempt. Tommy, equipped with his shotgun, called out, "We gotta get off the street!" 

As you approached Joel and Sarah, a flaming police car crashed into the capsized truck, separating the three of you from Tommy. Tommy roared from the other side of the wreck: "Meet at the river! I'll find a way." Joel turned to Sarah, "Can you run?" She shook her head wearily. He scooped her into his arms, "Keep your eyes on me." Joel shifted towards you, "No matter what, you keep runnin'. Alright, darlin'? Promise me." You hesitated, desperate eyes meeting his, "I promise." 

The three of you stumbled through the alley until you came across a cluster of bodies scattered across the pavement, crouched figures grunting over the lifeless figures. The end of the passage was clear. The only problem was getting past the rotted creatures without being noticed. There was no way Joel could outrun them in his condition. One of the creatures shot up at the sound of a remote blast, eyes landing on Joel. His voice was firm, "Go." You grabbed his arm, "Joel!" He repeated his command, louder— frantic: "You can't carry Sarah w'that arm. Go find Tommy. We'll meet you there."  

You pressed a hurried kiss to Sarah's head, the deranged man scrambling to his feet before you could embrace Joel. You took off towards the other end of the alley, Joel and Sarah barricading themselves inside the vacant diner across from the pile of carcasses. Your body throbbed with every step, head burning with the fire of a thousand suns. Your feet carried you across town, weaving in and out of injured civilians and infected until you reached the river. The stream was pitch black, sounds of gunfire and cries rang out in the distance. 

Suddenly, a bright light blinded you: "Put your hands where I can see 'em!" You obeyed, raising them as high as your injured arm would allow. Your voice raw with distress, "M'not sick! Just trying to find my family!" The man stepped closer, seemingly inspecting your physical state. He was clad in military gear, "You hurt?" You shook your head eagerly: "Just a sprained arm." He nodded his head, "Alright. We've got buses that can take you to a decontamination zone." 

Your head scanned the vast field, eyes scouring for any sign of Joel or Tommy: "I- I can't. I'm supposed to meet someone here. At the river." The soldier looked dissatisfied and slowly lifted his gun, "The river goes on for miles. S'not safe out here." Your eyebrows threaded together in confusion, "What- are you- are you gonna shoot me?" The soldier's grasp on his automatic rifle tightened, "I'm sayin' you have two choices. You can either come with me or you can-" 

A guttural scream sounded from behind him. But before he could turn around, a pair of arms seized his neck and began ripping into his military garb. The soldier flailed wildly at his attacker. While he was busy fighting off the deranged beast, you took off into the darkness, wandering aimlessly and calling out for your family. That night was the last time you saw Joel Miller.

16 Years Later

The bitter winter air overwhelmed your senses until you were gasping for air, limbs numb and cold to the touch. You wouldn't make it much longer without shelter, without warmth. You'd spent the better part of the last 16 years searching for him— for Joel. Ever since that night, you'd scoured every independent civilization, every QZ, within mobs of infected. Each night, you silently prayed never to find him like that— skin pallid and overcome with fungus, head split wide open, cordyceps blooming from within. 

You'd trekked across the country with the sole intent of finding him alive and healthy. The journey was brutal— raiders and infected desperate for blood. But by far, the hardest battle was pushing away the nagging thought that, even if Joel and Sarah were somehow alive, you'd never find them. Now, after nearly two decades of searching, you were reaching the end of your journey. You'd officially trekked across the entire nation. If your estimations were correct, you were nearing Wyoming— hence the formidable cold front. 

You'd heard rumors about a small civilization located somewhere on the skirts of Jackson County— your last stop. You knew the chances were slim; that feeling only fortified with each city, each civilian who hadn't heard of or seen anyone by the name of "Joel Miller." But you kept searching— because the day that you stopped would be the day you lost everything, lost yourself. It was as though he held onto you with a leash. If you tugged hard enough, could you finally break free? What else did you have to live for? Maybe one day you'd have some sort of epiphany, something to make sense of all the death and suffering. For now, Joel kept your hope alive— the hope that there was happiness and safety beyond all of the pain. The very thought of him kept you alive. 

You stood in front of thick and rusted iron gates, your posture crooked due to exhaustion— Just one more stop. The sounds of cocking guns drew your attention to the top of the gates. A young man and woman stand there, rifles pointed at you: "Drop your weapon! Let us see your hands!" You obey. This is standard practice amongst civilizations— you'd done it a thousand times by now. Unsheathing and kicking away your pistol, you then throw your backpack towards the gate. Hands raised next to your head. Your voice wavers as you half-shout, "I'm not infected! Just looking for someone!" 

The woman searched your face for a bit, presumably looking for any signs of deceit. She nodded towards her companion, the corroded metal walls unfolding. Two men approached you and picked up your discarded belongings. The younger of the two roughly patted you down and checked for bite marks. When they were satisfied, they led you past the gates into the town square. The village was pleasant, a handful of people milling about in the slushy streets. 

A familiar voice erupts from behind you: "Please excuse the initial hostility. We need to be careful about who we let in... I'm Maria." She extends her hand. You accept it gingerly and introduce yourself. "Welcome to Jackson. You must be freezing. Come on, we'll talk inside." — Maria leads you inside a small building, the exterior reminding you of the Lincoln Logs you used to play with as a child. The inside is... quaint. A lone desk sits near the lit fireplace. Maria leans against the desk and motions for you to take a seat: "So... You're lookin' for someone. And you have reason to believe they're here?" 

You sigh, allowing your aching body to relax against the couch's plush cushions: "No... I am looking for someone, but... Well, this is my last stop." Maria nods sympathetically, tucking a lone braid behind her ear— "I get it. You've been looking for a long time. It's about time to stop. To rest." You can't help the tears that form on your waterline. Your gaze shifts to your lap. Maria continues, "Who are you lookin' for?" 

You swallow the fist-sized lump in your throat, "Joel. Joel Miller." Your attention snaps towards her as a wistful sigh escapes her lips. A tight frown dawns on Maria's face, "I'm sorry. There's no Joel Miller here." You nod; you knew it was a long shot, but hearing it aloud was something different entirely. You rise from the couch, "Thank you. I apologize for takin' up your time." Maria speaks up before you can reach the door: "Now what? You got a place to stay?" 

You honestly hadn't thought that far, about life beyond looking. For years, finding Joel was your only purpose— your rationale for remaining on this infested hellscape. You had no home, no roots. Maria's voice interrupts your thoughts, "There's room here. We've got food and water— shelter. Hell, we're even working on electricity." You turn to face her. Her words dripping with verity, "Jackson could be your home." 

Despite having just met her, Maria's words touched something buried deep within you— hope. Hopeful of a new life, of new beginnings. You forged a small smile, "Okay." Maria smiled, but it was much different from yours: It was toothy, genuine— "Alright. I'll give you the grand tour then." For the next hour or so, Maria marched you around town. She showed you the vast dining hall laden with maple furniture. The stables filled with mare and their young. 

Then she showed you the schoolhouse. It was a small brick building. The walls were filled with colorful crayon drawings. Tiny handprints were pressed onto the wall in various colors of acrylic paint. The dulcet sounds of innocent laughter erupted from every corner of the room. Children from the ages of 5-12 were scattered around: Some doing arts and crafts, some reading, and others playing with worn toys. A tear slipped down your cheek. You brushed it away quickly before Maria could notice. 

You couldn't help but think of Sarah. About the first time she knocked on your door— she was selling chocolate bars for some fundraiser at school. Her bronze complexion dappled with freckles, and her wide smile revealed a missing tooth. She was eleven at the time, eyes bright and full of wonder. Blind to the atrocities that loomed at every turn. Sometimes, you'd think about what she looked like now— did her curls still rest atop her shoulders? Did she still laugh until she was panting for air? She's thirty now... Has she fallen in love? That was considering she is still... 

You didn't entertain the thought. Sarah was fine, alive somewhere with her father to look after her. Maria's touch pulls you from your thoughts, "How about I show you where you'll be living? Get you settled in." As Maria exited the schoolhouse, you stole one last glance at the room. A little girl met your gaze. Her dark curls were pulled into two ponytails. Her burnt mahogany eyes crinkled at the corners as she smiled, raising her tiny hand and waving it at you. You returned the sentiment, this time allowing the tear to fall down and onto the ground.  

Maria escorted you just outside of town, to a street lined with country-style two-story houses in relatively good condition. "This one here, the green one. It's already furnished. I'll have one of my guys come by later with some essentials from the pantry. Otherwise, you should be all set 'til tomorrow." Your eyes bore into the house. It was nice, but also... "It's big," you retort, "Don't know what I could possibly need all those rooms for." Maria lays the silver key in your hand, "You never know." 

You internally cringe at the connotation. Start over with some man? Have a big family and a white picket fence? You couldn't. It wouldn't be the same. You let out a shaky breath, "Thank you, Maria." She nods, "Come see me tomorrow, and we'll talk about where to go from here. Everyone in Jackson has a job, a role to play. Rest up... You deserve it." She departs, leaving just you and your great, big, empty house. 

3 Years Later

Jackson developed rapidly under Maria's supervision. The population rose from 50 to roughly 300 in just under three years. Jackson now had electricity, thanks to the Jackson County Hydroelectric Dam that Maria's team was able to get up and running. You'd become the head of patrol— in charge of organizing the schedules and determining the routes. You and Maria had become very close, practically family. She's the person who understood you, what you've been through. 

In an attempt to busy yourself and earn your keep, you'd thrown yourself into working alongside her. Not just with patrols but also with community relations and development. You'd completely reconstructed the greenhouse, built a jailhouse— that, luckily, wasn't used much— and helped fortify Jackson's defenses. Maria assigned you the title "community leader," but you much preferred what everyone else called you: "Maria's right hand." 

Your house was still too big, but now it felt homier— lived in. The walls were plastered with botanical paintings you'd found while out on patrol, vases of fresh cut flowers from the community garden placed upon every surface. Cable knit blankets were draped over the shabby leather furniture, the brick fireplace emanating warmth and bringing solace during the cold winter months. You'd even taken up baking in your spare time, frequently bringing baked goods to the schoolhouse. 

Nevertheless, when the sun set and the sounds of bustling downtown Jackson faded, your thoughts always returned to Joel. His bronze skin, tousled brown curls, and perfectly plump lips. Suddenly, it felt as though the house was mocking you, and the right side of the bed always grew colder. Perhaps it's why you worked yourself so hard; taking a day off was seldom. You couldn't escape the persistent feeling that Joel and Sarah weren't alive. That you'd failed to find them time and time again because somewhere, they were six feet under, buried in an unmarked grave. All it takes is one moment— one lapse between heartbeats— and suddenly, everything has changed.

· · ───────────── ·𖥸· ────────────── · ·

The spring air was crisp with morning dew. A gentle breeze slipped through the cracked bay window. Three heavy thuds woke you— the sharp knocks cutting through serene silence. Your voice was raspy with sleep, "Coming!" You quickly pulled on the worn terrycloth robe that hung from the bedpost and stumbled downstairs. You swung the door open to reveal Stanley, a young man who worked in construction: "I'm so sorry to wake you, but Maria sent me to get you. She said it's urgent."  

You sighed deeply, rubbing the remaining exhaustion from your face: "Urgent like, 'don't get dressed' urgent?" Stanley's eyes roamed across the dark fabric of your robe before snapping back to your face. His cheeks bright pink, "Oh, um... no! Just meet her in her office ASAP." Sending him off with a nod, you traipsed upstairs and threw on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt before making your way downtown. It was early morning, the streets empty save the early risers milling about, getting ready for work. As you passed a group of older women sipping hot beverages, you overheard whispers of "an outsider." As Maria's righthand, you were expected to greet all incoming arrivals. How on earth that could constitute a crisis, you did not know. 

As you approached Maria's office, the woman in question exited swiftly, shutting the door behind her. You grew closer, taking note of her fidgeting hands. She was... nervous? "Good morning, Mar. What's the emergency?" Maria's face was sullen. You'd never seen her like this, not in the three years you'd known her. Your hands clenched at your sides, "Maria? What is it?"

She took a deep breath, "This may be a false alarm, but... This guy's last name is Miller. Says he's originally from Texas." Her words stole the air from your lungs, a pit forming in the bottom of your stomach. She said something else, but all you could hear was buzzing. Your vision blurred, the dark-skinned woman's features coming in and out of focus. Could it be him—had Joel finally found you? 

Maria called your name, pulling you from your trance. As your vision focused, you pushed past her. Your grip on the doorknob was bone-crushing, your knuckles turning white from the tension. You inhaled— don't get your hopes up. It might not be him. You exhaled, pushing the door open with a startling amount of force. You analyzed the man's figure, you recognized him— only it wasn't Joel. It wasn't the Miller whose calloused hands once traveled the expanse of your body, making note of each hidden crevice as though it may hold treasure. Whose lips once seared white hot kisses in the places he knew were the most sensitive— "Tommy?"

He looked dumbstruck, his lips parted in shock. Before you could stop yourself, you threw your arms around his neck. It took him a moment to reciprocate your embrace, but once he did, his arms anchored you in place. He spoke your name quietly against the crown of your head: "I can't... I can't believe it." You pulled away, "I hardly can either." His hands rested atop your shoulders as his eyes searched your face in disbelief. His resemblance to his older brother felt like a gut punch. You were afraid to ask— fearful of the truth: "Joel? Is he..."

Tommy's hand squeezed your shoulder in reassurance, "He's alive. Last I checked, holed up somewhere in the Boston QZ." A warm tear slipped down your face, the salty liquid resting just below your chin. You'd checked Boston QZ, but recent "terrorist" attacks had made it impossible to stay longer than an hour without drawing the attention of every FEDRA soldier in that godforsaken city. Your hands trembled as you clutched your chest, "And Sarah? How's my sweet girl?" 

Tommy's face went cold— No. No. She can't— "She's gone." The taste of bile rose in your throat, "Wh-when?" Tommy removed his hands from your shoulders, "That night. Shot by some military fucker. She..." He hesitated, "Joel held her. It happened s'fast." Your kneels buckled, threatening to send you towards the ground. You fucked up— you let yourself get accustomed to the idea of her being alive. Repeated it over and over again until you believed it to be true. This was all your fault. 

Your shoulders shook silently, as if you were crying— but no tears emerged, "I have to… I have to find Joel." Turning toward the door, Tommy caught you by your wrist: "I can't let you do that, hon. It's a damn death sentence." You tugged at your arm, desperate to break free from the restraint: "Let go of me, Tommy. I'm doin' this." Maria stepped forward, her hand resting at the base of your neck— "No, you're not. Jackson needs you here. I need you here."

Your breathing became labored. Deep down, you knew they were right— you were in no shape to travel across the country again. You'd barely survived it the first time. Chest heaving, your free hand found purchase on your throat, tightly grasping and constricting the airway. Tommy wearily let go of your wrist, his eyes wide and filled with fear. You ran for the door; you could hear Tommy call out for you as you fled homeward. Sarah was gone. Joel was alone.

· · ───────────── ·𖥸· ────────────── · ·

Days passed, and despite everything, the sun rose in the morning and the moon at night. You weren't quite sure how long it had been. You'd stopped counting daybreak after the first five came and went. Maria checked in after the first couple of days, worried that you hadn't been seen around town— or leaving your house, for that matter. Your grief was debilitating, all-consuming. You couldn't eat, could barely sleep, only finding relief at the bottom of a liquor bottle. You were tired… The kind of tired that sleep didn't fix.

Tommy came once. Sat and talked while you stared straight ahead at the empty wall. He could sense your anger, your resentment. How could he not? You silently judged him for leaving Joel, leaving his brother after his only daughter died in his arms. Tommy told you that Joel had changed. He wasn't the Joel you fell in love with; he'd done terrible things— But so had you. You'd killed innocent people, people who were just trying to protect themselves. And you did it in the name of finding Joel and Sarah, of surviving for them. You'd convinced yourself it was kill or be killed, and you had to live with that. Come judgment day, you'd pay greatly for your sins. You accepted that, too.

You only dared to look at Tommy's face once. You saw Joel in his eyes— you saw Sarah. Maybe if you hadn't left Joel in that alleyway, she'd still be alive. You could've protected her, taken the bullet for her. You would have, without hesitation. You'd cross the fiery pits of hell for her, reside in Caina, and be tortured for eternity. You may not have given birth to her, but Sarah was your daughter.

If you closed your eyes hard enough, you could faintly picture her smile. The dimples that formed just below her bottom lip. You could smell the faint aroma of her strawberry shampoo. Hear the broken remnants of her grandiose laughter. You swore to keep those memories someplace safe. Take them out and remember when you needed to, as if they were photographs.

A part of you wanted to be happy that she didn't suffer. She was too innocent for this new, heartless world. She was everything good in life. She was sunshine, sugary syrup, and pure, unadulterated love. But you could not accept this bright side. Not when it meant a life without her in it. Innocence is beautiful, but life is for living.

Tommy stood up, slipping a piece of paper on the nightstand. You cautiously turned it over to reveal a creased photo: You, Joel, and Sarah posing after winning one of her soccer games. You stole one last glance at Tommy. This time, he did not see blinding hatred in your gaze. Instead, he saw gratitude. As your glassy eyes bore into him, he nodded knowingly and left.

Maria came a couple of hours later with leftovers from the dining hall. Setting them on the counter next to the empty whiskey bottles displayed like pathetic trophies. You were in the same position as when Tommy left. You held the photo in your hands, thumbs stroking its frayed edges. Maria quietly dragged a chair closer to the bed, sitting just within arm's reach: "I went to a really dark place after I lost Kevin."

Tearing your gaze from the picture, one of her hands finds yours: "He made life worth living… It took me a long time to start to feel human again. To feel something other than pain and sorrow. The grief never goes away. But slowly, it starts to feel less like loss, and more like love." She inhaled shakily, "I know what you're feeling right now. I know why you're drowning your sorrows in that shit, trying to drink yourself to death." A tear slips down your face, her hand squeezing yours gently: "But you have to understand… What you're feeling right now, that's love. You're not a bad person for how you try to kill your sadness. But it's not gonna work."

You're unable to contain the choked sob that escapes your throat. The tears come harshly, scorching saline against your skin. Maria shifts her weight from the chair onto the bed, holding your shaking frame: "It's okay… Let it out." Her hands cradle your head, smoothing over your disheveled hair. "It's all my fault," you gasp between sobs, "I never should've left them. It's all my fault." Maria shushes you, "No, honey. You don't really believe that. You want someone to blame, but you're not that person."

Eventually, the tears cease. Your breathing evened out as Maria held you, "I miss Joel, so fucking much." You could feel Maria nod tenderly, "I know Honey." A lone tear slipped down your cheek, "Do you think— do you think he'll find me?" Maria pulled away, her chestnut eyes meeting yours, "Truthfully, I don't know." With a deep sigh, she squeezed your hand— "But I know he wouldn't want you to live like this. Isolating yourself from everyone else. You're allowed to grieve, but please don't shut me out. You're my person." You clutch her hands, squeezing firmly: "Even at my worst?" Her arms curled around your torso once again, "Even at your worst."

· · ───────────── ·𖥸· ────────────── · ·

The warmer seasons passed with haste. A wintertide blanket of white gradually covered Jackson. Day by day, Maria and Tommy were able to pull you out of your depressive stupor. You had to admit, they made quite the team. Maria was ultimately right, Joel wouldn't want you to spend the rest of your life a bedridden drunkard. But still, life without him was arduous. There wasn't a day that passed that you didn't think of Joel Miller. About where he was, what he was doing, who he was with, and whether he missed you as terribly as you did him. 

As much as you wished to focus on these melancholic thoughts, new developments began to bloom in Jackson. Tommy and Maria's blossoming love was hard to ignore and impossible to disapprove of. Watching two people whom you adored fall in love, it felt as though nothing had changed: No cordyceps, no raiders, just Jackson and all of its inhabitants. Perhaps you could find peace in that. When Maria told you that they were expecting, you were over the moon. Maria and Tommy deserved it, Jackson deserved it. Proof that the world is not over— that no matter the circumstances, mankind will prevail. 

You threw together a small wedding ceremony with the help of the florist and local bakery, the couple wanting to tie the knot before the baby's arrival. Joking about how "shotgun weddings" withstood the test of time. Something arose in you, a pang of jealousy— Envious that you and Joel never got the perfect white wedding. It disgusted you, so you buried it deep within the recesses of your heart. 

The winter was hard, the Wyoming chill threatening every crop that dared to sprout from the Earth. This resulted in you spending extra time in the greenhouse. You found gardening to be a rather soothing task, being able to nurture new life in a world marked by death and decay. It also provided plenty of time to think: Something that you did not relish. No matter how many times you pushed the thought of Joel away, it always returned. Whether it was at dawn or late at night plaguing your dreams. 

When you weren't at Tommy and Maria's house or at the Tipsy Bison, you were in the greenhouse. The small shack sat right on the outskirts of town, situated with the perfect view of downtown Jackson. The glass panes shut out the cold, trapping any warmth inside. You bathed in the basking glow of the sun, gravitating towards it as a Sunflower would. You weren't sure when thoughts of Sarah became joyous, memories no longer met with choked cries but instead with soft chuckles. Nonetheless, you welcomed the growth. It's how she would want you to remember her. 

You watched the clock that hung just above the door, a mere estimation of the time: 12:15 p.m. You carefully removed your dirt-caked gloves, setting them on the wooden bench beside you. Your stomach growled impatiently as you began the journey downtown. The air was frigid despite the sun's rays, the cold slowly numbing your fingers. As you ambled towards town, Stanley came jogging towards you: "Hey! Just got word from the gates that Maria's back. Brought some stragglers, two, I think." 

You nodded in his direction, "Alright. Thanks, Stan." The soft crunch of snow beneath your feet accompanied you as you approached downtown Jackson, an air of excitement and uncertainty radiating off of the townsfolk. It wasn't every day that Jackson came across people who weren't just blood-thirsty raiders looking for valuables. As you rounded a corner, you overheard a commotion, the sound of yelling. Strangely, it didn't sound angry or fearful. It sounded... happy. 

Midtown came into view; the construction that was being worked on was now abandoned. Immediately, your gaze fixed on two figures in the middle of the street embracing. That was... not typical. You could make one man out to be Tommy; his black curls contrasted starkly against his warm taupe skin. The other was taller and broader, his hair disheveled and graying. Behind them you could make out Maria on horseback, next to her was a young girl, who couldn't be older than thirteen. 

Maria's expression was borderline unreadable, a mixture of trepidation and relief. Until her eyes met yours, then her face softened. A look of tenderness emerged. Everything about this situation puzzled you— Until the two figures broke apart. The man stood inches from Tommy, his hands gripping Tommy's shoulders firmly. His face was sunken with exhaustion and hunger; a vast smile overtook his face. A smile you would recognize anywhere. 

He looked just as he had twenty years ago, only now his hair was significantly longer and his beard gray. His face was now littered with wrinkles, just as yours was. A telltale sign that time had, in fact, passed, that the world fell apart right in front of your eyes. Your fingers dug into your thigh. You surely would've drawn blood if not for the layer of denim protecting your skin. You knew you were grieving, but hallucinations seemed extreme. You took a hesitant step forward, still on the opposite end of the street. 

Maria beckoned for you. Your name seemingly catching Tommy's attention as he turned towards you. As the men stood side-by-side, it was impossible to deny. Their likeness evoked something in you— realization. You weren't dreaming, you weren't hallucinating. He was there, just a yard away: Joel Miller. His gaze found yours, eyes searching your face in disbelief. Your name left his mouth like a question, but it sounded like a prayer. 

He stepped forward as if he was testing the waters. You repeated his action, "Joel?" A smile broke across his face once again, causing you to break into a sprint. He jogged forward, careful not to slip on the icy gravel. Tears began streaming down your face, their warmth countering the icy chill. Before you could slow down, your body collided with his. His arms were tense, his hold fastening around you. You'd only dreamt of this moment for two decades. 

You weren't sure how long you stood like that. Head nestled firmly against his chest, tears staining his leather coat. His gloved fingers gently grasped your chin, pulling your face from its sanctuary: "Baby... Fuck, I can't believe it." His eyes searched your face for any sign of unease. He could find nothing but pure joy: "You found me. I searched for you, Joel Miller, for 16 years. And you found me." 

Joel let out a breathy chuckle, cut off as you captured his lips in a velvety kiss. At first, it was chaste.— A silent admission of consolation, twenty years in the making. You ran your tongue across his bottom lip, prompting him to groan as he opened his mouth to deepen the kiss. After a moment, a loud cough erupted from behind you. You reluctantly pull away, your forehead resting against his. Your hands cupped his cheeks, eyes glassy with relief and adoration: "After all this time?" Joel leans forward to place a gentle kiss on the corner of your mouth, "Would wait forever f'you, Darlin'." 

© 2023 fragilefable do not plagiarize, translate, or repost my writing to any other site.

divider by @saradika

[jarofstyles]

Scarred

Harry and Y/N work at a haunted attraction together- but no one’s ever seen his face.

WC-5.2k

Patreon

Warnings- mention of scars, bullying, anxiety, mention of blood, exhibitionism hint, slight angst and fluff

------

When Y/N had first signed up to be a scare actor, she had heard a lot of things.

Be careful of guests with fear aggression. You may get punched.

Do not take candy from guests, there was an incident. 

Go for the people who are acting like they are too good for it. They make the best scares.

But the one she had thought was the most amusing? 

Everyone is hooking up. Be careful who you choose. 

Y/N had no intentions of hooking up with anyone. This had been a side job, a side hustle if you will, some money to pay off bills and let her get a head start on holiday gifts. She’d never anticipated that a scare attraction would have the amount of drama or hook ups that she had been exposed to. It seemed like people paired off, even her friends she’d made that had warned her in rehearsal runs, had found people to fuck around with. She had no plans on doing anything with anyone- until she’d met Harry. 

They had been in full costume when she’d met him. Skull makeup skillfully painted on his face, hair slicked back and some fake blood trickling down his temple. It was also splattered on his white dress shirt and knuckles, as well as the large axe he dragged along with him to make sparks on the pavement. He had a swagger to his walk, a smirk on his face as he approached Y/N, eyeing her up and down. 

Her own costume was of a crazed vampire princess. An elvira adjacent dress with multiple rips, loads more fake blood on her dripping down her chin and smeared around her neck and hands. The choker holding a cross pendant had been his area of attack, gently tugging on it with a hum as he got into her space. Even with the red contacts in his eyes, she could read them well. It was hard not to. “Look at that….” he mumbled to her, their faces nearing as he lifted his hand to expose his cross tattoo near his thumb. “We match.” 

That had been it before he walked away that time, but it wasn’t the end of it. It was only the beginning. 

The first time they’d hooked up had been in an empty dressing room. Her face in his neck as he fucked into her, trying to hide her moans as he had taken her deep, her leg held in his hand as she was pressed against the lit table. He’d been filthy, whispering into her ear about how he would have done this out there if she had let him, how much he loved to feel her wrapped around him, his makeup smearing on her face and vice versa.

“There we go… what a tight little thing you are.” His breath washed over her lips, keeping their faces close. His cock had gotten deep in her, deeper than she had ever experienced without it being too much, and she had felt like he’d fucked her brain to mush. Repeatedly getting at her most sensitive spot, finding it and keeping right at it. 

“Found it, didn’t I? So responsive. Teased me all fucking night, didn’t you?” He held her throat despite it still being sticky with the fake blood, watching her mouth open and panting. Her fingers held to the edge of the table and her knuckles pale, the slight wobble of her leg still on the ground cluing him in. “Do you know what I wanted to do?” 

“What?” Y/N whispered. “What did you want to do to me?” She was desperate to know, not able to hide the desperation in the slightest with how well she was being fucked. 

“I wanted to bend you over that bench. Brushed my stomach with those fucking nails… saying ‘oops’, like you hadn’t meant to. You did, you little slut. Just like you meant to push that perfect ass into me when you felt me come up behind you.” He hissed, tightening his grip on her throat. “Should have lifted up your skirt and taken you there. You were soaked for me then, weren’t you?” His grin was wicked, making her brain short circut. He was fully done in makeup despite it smearing near his mouth, and there was something so erotic about being fucked by a man in disguise. 

“Fuck- more.” She pleaded, gritty voice gracing his ears along with her whimpers. His hand was wrapped deliciously around her throat and his fingers expertly pressing right against the sides, showing his experience and honestly, expertise at the art of erotic choking. “Spit- spit in my mouth, please? Please I just-“ she was cut off by his snicker.

“You’re filthier than I thought.” He laughed, watching in pleasured awe as her mouth opened and her tongue laid out, eagerly catching the string of spit as he messily gave it to her. She could feel his cock twitch in her as her eyes hazily looked up at him, swallowing it with a slightly deranged giggle. 

“So dirty.” Her voice wheezed, opening her mouth for more. “Give me everything. I’ll be good, just- I want it all.”

Harry had definitely followed through in that promise. Hell, the man made her cum twice that first time, gently helping clean her up before they’d gone their separate ways. 

Y/N had yet to see him without the face makeup on. She’d caught him without the costume and seen the gallery of tattoos he had inked on his skin, but he always beat her there and seemed to like the game of having seen her face without her seeing his. In some ways, it was like a bit of foreplay to them both. Y/N never knew she had a kink that was mask adjacent but here she was. 

He didn’t even bother taking it off at the attraction, rather driving home in full makeup. Her friends had said they’d never seen him without it either, but the only thing they knew was his real eye color was green. Harry was a bit secretive and apparently had never hooked up with anyone in the past, despite working here for the last 5 seasons. 

“He’s looking at you like he wants to eat you.” Kristen mumbled to her as they did their makeup next to one another. In the reflection she could see Harry standing in a group with some other scare actors, but his focus was on Y/N. Seeing her find his gaze in the mirror, he didn’t look away. Instead, he winked at her, continuing his observation. Y/N felt herself heat under her skin, shaking her head as her hand trembled slightly as she lined her lips. 

“I bet he does. Come on, how big is he?” Her friend hissed, trying to gain some sort of juicy tidbit she’d been holding off on. 

“Big.” Y/N laughed, placing the cap back on her lip liner. “I don’t know any more about him than you guys do. I know what car he drives, that he doesn’t have any social media, has green eyes and a big dick. But he’s still a gentleman above all else, he always walks me to my car. But that’s about it.” She wished she knew more. Having hook ups happen exclusively at work was hot, but she’d love to be on a bed. And not have to rush. 

“I think he’s actually into you.” Kristen muttered. “I heard he was asking around about you. He hasn’t asked me anything yet but he asked Lila if you lived around here or if you travelled.” 

Y/N’s brows furrowed, meeting Harry’s in the mirror yet again. He rose a brow in return, narrowing his eyes at her with his smirk. “I don’t know why he’s asking other people that stuff when he can just ask me.” She replied, going back to filling her lips in with the lipstick. It irked her a little bit, she couldn’t lie. Y/N had tried to get more information on him but he’d sort of froze when she tried so she respected it and didn’t bring it up again. 

“Maybe it’s because when you both are together you’ve got each other’s tongues down your throats.” Her friend snickered, making Y/N kick her shin. That got her to stop, but it didn’t make it any less true. It was real, she feared. Every night, since they were in the same scare zone, it was like foreplay when they walked by each other. His hand brushing her back or her arm, whispering something dirty to her as he passed by, or vice versa. But still. 

At the end of the night, when Harry popped up out of nowhere while she cleaned her bag, she felt his hands grip her hips from behind. Her costume had been hung up on the rack, leaving her in athletic shorts and her tee shirt as his fingers dipped under the waistband, pulling her back into him and letting her feel his cock. It was in his jeans, his black tank top exposing his tattoos yet again as she looked at the hands feeling her up. “Heard you were asking around about me.” She said simply, allowing him to touch as she zipped up her bag. 

“I was.” Was his answer, lips brushing over the shell of her ear. “Pretty little princess is a bit of a mystery. I’ve found the answers to be satisfactory, though.” He sighed, making her skin flood with chills as he kissed the delicate skin right behind her ear. Y/N found it hard to think when he touched her like this but it was hard to pull away when his touch was something she craved. Even in her day to day before she went to work, she thought about his mouth and his hands, How he tasted. She had bruises from him and they were constant reminders. 

“What answers did you find?” She asked, leaning back in his hold and letting her ass rub against his length. His nose exhaled a harsher breath at the action, hands tightening on her as he groaned. 

“Well.. You live around here. You’ve got a cat. Work full time. Know your age, know you like banana taffy which, in my humble opinion, is vile. But I don’t know enough. I want to know more.” His deep voice was hypnotic, making her want to spill her life story to him, but looking in the mirror to see his face still painted made her pause. 

“I’m the mystery?” She laughed. “You don’t let anyone see your face. All I know about you is your name, your car, that you like ACDC, and you’re good in bed.” She huffed, turning around to face him. His contacts were out and the mossy green looked down at her, a grin lighting up his features as he replied. 

“Good in bed, aye?” 

“Harry.” She deadpanned, crossing her arms. “I’m serious. I don’t know much at all. Is this something you want to keep just here? Cause I’m a little confused why you’re asking around and wanting to know more when you’ve never let me see you without the makeup on before.” She could see him sober a little bit, body stiffening a little when he could tell she was serious. “It’s like you make it a point for no one to see your real face, which, it’s cool if that’s a boundary but I feel a bit at a disadvantage when you’ve seen all of me and I’ve barely seen any of you.” It felt a bit ridiculous to say, perhaps she was overreacting but it was something that she felt. She’d felt there was a bit of an imbalance.

Harry was quiet for a moment, releasing her from his grip as he ran a hand through his hair. He seemed to mull over it for a moment, making Y/N hope she didn’t upset him but it was a conversation they’d eventually have to have. 

“I’ve never done this before.” He finally mumbled back. “I like this job because it lets me escape the day to day. The stares I get normally, it's the stares I want. I don’t- I don’t want you to feel disadvantaged because of it.” Obviously that bothered him. His brows were furrowed and his stance stiff, which she felt slightly bad for but it was simply the truth. It confused her a little bit, but he continued. “I just like what I’ve got going on here, and I don’t want people to look at me differently or anything like that. As for you, for us… I don’t want to keep it just here, but it’s the excuse I’ve got to keep the makeup on.” 

Now she was very confused. Looking at him with it written on her face, she placed her hand on his arm for comfort as she tried to get his eyes to meet hers again. “What do you mean?” She asked gently, trying to approach the subject delicately. It was relieving to know he didn’t want to only keep it here, but it made her concerned to know something was holding him back from showing her his face. “You know, if you show me your face I’m not going to tell anyone else what you look like. If you want privacy, I respect that. It's not my secret or face to share.” Y/N hoped he would know that even in the short time they’d known each other. 

“No, I know- I don’t think you would. I just worry because-” He obviously didn’t like talking about it and it made him uncomfortable, as this was probably the most they’d talked without slipping into something sexual, but he seemed to take her concern seriously. “I worry that you’re going to see me without the makeup and be repulsed or something. All of my exes, well both of them, they said they were okay with me and then it got too much when people stared at me and- fuck, okay….” He groaned, taking a deep breath. “I’ve got a massive scar going down the side of my face. Goes through my eyebrow, over my eyelid and down my cheek. Some skin is fucked up on the side too, s’textured- I was in an accident when I was younger and it fucked it all up.” He breathed, making Y/N’s heart ache. Once he started talking though, he was going and she didn’t want to interrupt, so she just slipped her hand down to hold his and nodded for him to continue. “I’ve grown up being called all sorts of shit and a monster- hell, even coming here to audition, they thought I was in some special effects shit. They were mortified when I told them it was just my face after they said they’d want to make it more gory, but… I come here in my makeup and no one sees the scar. They just see me and they think I’m attractive, and even if it's a little weird, I can anticipate the staring cause it’s not my imperfection. It’s anticipated. Dunno if I’m running my mouth for a stupid reason, but-”

“No. It isn’t stupid.” Y/N said firmly. “First, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry that you had to go through that, had to be hurt like that, and had people who hurt you because they’re cowards and can’t deal with people staring at you. That’s bullshit and it pisses me off.” She huffed, obviously irritated. “But I am not going to be repulsed or horrified. I like what I’ve seen of you this far, didn’t even think I’d hook up with anyone here if I’m honest, but you are extremely attractive, Harry. I’m positive that once the face paint comes off, that isn’t going to change. Scar or not. It’s how you carry yourself, how you talk. How you touch.” Her other arm lifted to wrap over his neck, pressing her body into his own. “If you aren’t ready to show me, you don’t have to. I won’t ever make you show yourself here either.” She motioned to the room around them. “ I understand, having an escape from that must be so nice but… I promise you, I’m not going to run away just because of a mark on your skin. I like you from what I know so far- even if it isn’t a lot.” Her voice was tender, trying to convey just how much she meant it. It could be such a good thing, at least in her opinion. They had incredible chemistry and got on and she wanted to see how far it could take them. 

Harry took a moment to absorb what she said, nodding hesitantly before he pulled her back into an embrace. It broke her heart to feel his shaky hand on her back. He didn’t seem to be afraid of anything but this, working in a place built for screams and monsters, his real face was his secret. Y/N didn’t like that people had made him feel ashamed over something he had no control over. “I-I do like you.” He said quietly, chin on top of her head. “I was even worried, y’know, for after the season was over because I like how I feel around you, but I’ve been scared t’show you. If you really want to see…” He was a bit braver with her face tucked into his neck, her fingers stroking the hair peeking from his beanie that covered his head. “I think it could be cool if you came over t’my house.” 

“Yeah?” Her face brightened and Harry swore right there that it would make it worth it. The underlying anxiety was still there but hell, Y/N hadn’t even blinked at the idea he maybe wasn’t as attractive as she thought underneath the makeup. “Okay! When?” Her body bounced in excitement and it made the pressure on his chest lift just a smidge. 

“Uh- tonight? If you want.” He offered. “Or tomorrow, I’m not like, super bus- I write from home as my other job, and I do on the side too- so I make my own schedule, it’s really up to you.”

“I’d love to come tonight.” The excitement was audible in her tone, the more she spoke the less he felt anxious. “Let me grab my bag. Uh, why don’t you text me your address.” She suggested, pushing some of his hair back. “I’ll follow you there but in case we get lost.” 

“Course.” He went to take out his phone but was interrupted by a pair of petal soft lips connecting with his, making him abandon his plans and inhale sharply as he reciprocated the soft kiss. His hand on the side of her neck, pulling her back in when she went to pull away and making her giggle. 

“There will be plenty of that once we get there. Let’s get this show on the road, yeah?”

—————

Harry’s place was cute. 

In a row of condos, his was at the end and she could see a fence hiding what must be a hard. Long rather than wide, she was impressed immediately as she pulled up behind his car. He had already arrived but waited patiently at his front door, seemingly already put his stuff away. 

Y/N wanted to coo at the decoration of the front porch of his place. There were a few carved pumpkins, a spider web, and purple and orange string lights hanging on the banisters. He obviously liked Halloween but she got her explanation when she started up the steps. 

“Got a niece and I watch her for my sister sometimes.” He began to satiate her ravenous curiosity. Y/N was dying for any bit of information about him. “We uh, we had a pumpkin carving night with her and my mum.” There wasn’t any embarrassment which she loved. The man in front of her seemed to love his family with no shame and that was attractive to her beyond belief, her wide smile pairing with her nod. 

“You get cuter the more I get to know about you.” Being openly flirtatious wasn't her norm, no, but she wanted Harry to actually see she liked him. She was sensitive to his insecurities and wanted it undeniable that she was into him, which wouldn’t be hard to prove. She really, really did. “Though I’m sad I missed out. I haven’t carved a pumpkin in years.” 

Not wanting to be presumptuous, her bag was left in her car but… she definitely did want to stay for a while. 

“That’s awful.” He clicked his tongue. “If I had a spare, I’d remedy that but… maybe another night.” The hint towards having more time with her away from the attraction made her heart soar if she was being honest, but she tried to hold composure so her smile didn’t look absolutely insane. 

“I’m holding you to that.” She controlled her grin as he stood up, opening the front door for her. Immediately she was greeted with a comforting home. It was the exact opposite of what she had expected as a bachelor living alone. Photos of what looked to be his family on the walls, the odd art piece, a hanging rack with his keys and a few beanies and a sweater. He had a wicker shoe rack and a woven red rug in the entryway, stairs immediately to the left and what looked to be a dining room to the side. 

“I’m sorry for a bit of a mess. I don’t really have people over much, so my dining room is my work space and… yeah. It’s got papers and shit.” He rubbed the back of her neck. “My office got small and I like to spread out.” It was a cute little quirk that she found to be fucking endearing. Seeing the neat stacks of paper and his laptop, what looked to be a light box? She wasn’t sure, but she thought she recognized it. He had a knit cardigan hanging off the back of a leather office chair on wheels, softening the look of it and making her wonder what he was like outside of work even more. He seemed to be… soft. 

The house smelled like apples and cinnamon and she saw a wax melter thing as they walked through and he led her towards the living room, a step down to the space from the kitchen. Hardwood covered in a few different rugs that should look bad but didn’t. They all fit somehow, even on top of one another. A soft looking couch and giant bean bag looking thing were there too, making her wonder which he preferred to sit in. 

“Can I get you something to drink?” He asked, standing with his hands behind his back. A slightly nervous thing he did. “I’m gonna go uh, take the makeup off.” It broke her heart to see his nerves come back like that. Her hand gently tugged on his arm, trying and succeeding to pull his hand into her own. 

“I’m fine for right now but, I just wanted to remind you that I do like you already. I want to get to know you, to see your face. Okay?” Her thumb brushed over the back of his hand, noting his knuckles were still split. He’d blamed it on the gym. “I know it’s still scary but believe me when I say that you aren’t going to scare me away, and I’m not going to tell everyone what you look like. You’re safe with me.” 

Her reassurance seemed to do a lot, his head falling from his stiff shoulders and looking at his feet as he sighed. Of course he was riddled with nerves. The one girl he actually liked had never seen him without his so-called mask, and he knew he could look jarring to people who weren’t prepared- but there was no use in wasting time. 

“Alright. I trust you.” Weirdly enough, he actually did. 

-

Hearing Harry’s return down the stairs, Y/N sat up a bit straighter. He’d been gone for about 10 minutes, 15 maybe. She tried to distract herself on her phone but it would be a lie to say that it worked. Her own nerves were acting out. Her biggest fear was reacting in a way he perceived as negative. He was trusting her with this, and she really didn’t want to fuck it up. 

Y/N had no idea what to expect besides a scar.  So seeing his face for the first time had really thrown her for a loop- because the scar held the least of her attention. 

Harry was hot. Handsome. Attractive. Every word you could use to describe a god of a man, that’s what she would use to identify him. 

His hair that was usually slicked back had been washed clean, damp waves falling slightly in his face. Paler skin than she had imagined, but it was still beautiful. His nose was on the bigger side like she preferred. His jaw and cheeks sharp, carved to perfection. If she could have compared him to anything it would be one of those Greek statues, or maybe what she had always imagined Apollo to look like. His skin was smooth and it looked soft, sans the slight stubble on his chin and around his mouth- she was familiar with that, though. So were her thighs. 

His eyes looked even greener like this, not hidden behind the elaborate makeup. His lashes were still slightly clumped together from the shower, and by the time he had hesitantly sat in front of her, she was itching to have the eyes look up and back into hers. 

The scar was noticeable, yes. It went down his face as he had previously described, the pinker skin with some puckering trailing down his left side. It made her heart hurt to know that this was the cause of his insecurities though, because honestly? In her opinion, it didn’t take away from his beauty. 

It wasn’t often that she would describe a man as beautiful, but he truly was. Her words escaped her for a moment, but as soon as she had a coherent thought, she took a breath. “Harry….” She began to reach a hand up before pausing. “Can I?” Motioning to his face. He hesitated before nodding, leaning forward. 

Her hands cupped both of his cheeks, looking over his face with a saccharine smile, feeling the heated skin under her fingertips as she traced over the raised skin. “You are absolutely fucking beautiful.” She mumbled. “Wow. You had nothing to worry about because… I’m a little shocked at how attractive you are. Knew you would be regardless but I'm kind of in awe of you.” She laughed, making him smile. She could feel it under her hands, pulling one away to make a discovery. 

“For fucks sake! You’ve got a dimple too?” She whined. “That’s unfair. You should get to choose between chiseled features and dimples.”

Harry was flushed, but he joined in her laughter. There was no part of it that felt inauthentic. A bit of him felt silly, actually, with seeing her react so well. He’d worked himself up, gotten so anxious and upset over the prospect of her seeing him and being horrified that he had almost denied himself of getting to know her deeper. 

“Yeah?” A shy tone tinged his voice making him want to cringe, but he truly was slightly shocked at how well she took it. 

“Yep.” She chirped, climbing into his lap, helping herself to him. His hands went around her body as she took a closer look at him, seemingly enjoying what she saw and it made him a little flustered. The look in her eye was of genuine desire and attraction, the same if not more intense from when she had flirted with him at work. It wasn’t a reaction he was used to- or one he really looked for. “Harry… can I be honest?” 

His stomach dropped to his feet, terrified for a mere moment before she continued at his jerking nod. “I think people stare at you because you’re fucking hot.” The blunt words were not at all what he expected, eyebrows shooting up at the opinion of hers. That’s… certainly not what he had thought she would say. “I’m serious. I’m kinda drooling over you. I have and do when you’re in your costume cause, duh, but you’re genuinely one of the most attractive people I’ve ever seen. And the scar…” her finger ran over it on his cheek. “It’s part of you. It’s attractive. To me, and I’m sure many others.” Her mouth turned downwards for a second. “Don’t get me wrong. I’m not trying to erase the trauma you had to endure from growing up with it. I’m positive people have bullied you and said horrific things. But I just think… more people probably find you attractive than you realize. And your ex girlfriends are absolute fucking morons, no offense.” 

The passion in her last statement had him sputtering out a laugh. She truly meant that! “I can’t say that’s the reaction I expected but, it’s better than I hoped.” He admitted, arms looped around her waist. Her eyes were drinking him in and admiring him, something he wasn’t used to. Maybe she was right about that, but he was used to and conditioned to believe his scar was ugly. Her approval wouldn’t necessarily fix that overnight but it definitely gave him a confidence boost. 

“I’m sorry I hid from you.” His voice was quiet, letting her explore his face. “I really… I really liked you and I was so scared that it would scare you off. I got in my head about it. I don’t like being known as the ‘scar guy’ when there’s a lot more to me but I knew that if people at work knew what I’d look like they’d see me as that.” Which, it was understandable. Y/N seemed to get it, nodding along in support. “I don’t think I’m ready to show my scar there. I kinda of like being someone else there, but…” he licked over his bottom lip. “I'd like for you to see the real me. If that’s something you’d still be interested in.” 

“Of course it is, Harry.” She insisted. “I’m only more into you now. Don’t get me wrong, your makeup is sexy and I love your persona there but… you’re right. There’s so much more to you that I’m dying to learn.” Her fingers pushed his damp curls from his eyes, exposing his face and tipping it up so she could brush her lips against his scarred cheek for a soft peck.  “So let’s start. Tell me who you are.”

[spectator-moon]

HEADCANONS ABOUT THE BAD KIDS

Kristen has Asthma. No doctors can figure out where it came from, because it's not genetic, but she remembers a dark forest, a temple, and a horn spearing through her lungs, and she just knows. She asks Cassandra to fix it, and Cassandra tells her that it cannot be done. She keeps an inhaler on her at all times, and when she breathes too deeply, she can still feel the horn piercing her.

Fig, through a combination of tiefling blood and her own decisions, sounds like somebody who's been smoking all their life. When she was younger, it just sounded like a raspy throat, but now that she's older, it's that sultry, sort-of attractive rasp. Ayda says that she sounds sick, and it takes a few minutes of explaining before Ayda understands. Fig always teases Ayda with her most sultry, raspy voice, and laughs when Ayda's hair poofs upwards.

Adaine tried pancakes for the first time when Kristen made them and now they're her favourite breakfast food. Her favourite toppings are whipped cream, fruit, and syrup. She doesn't say that every time she eats them, they trigger sensations of eating at a cold table with cruel people. She doesn't say that she sees a time where she will eat pancakes alone, and cry with the wish to eat them with Kristen again. She does not say a great many things.

Gorgug, through no fault of his parents, in almost unhealthily skinny. It's incredibly hard to find books on Orcish physiology, and Thelma and Digby tried their best to keep up, but it wasn't meeting the required amount of calories. Now that they know (Gorgug's bio dad gave them a book), they feed him much more, but he's always hungry. He feels bad for it, and sometimes even flat out refuses the food, feeling like it's a waste.

Fabian has dissociative episodes where he falls back into the fear that nobody remembers him. He sometimes can't even remember himself. He pretends to be fine, and then you're calling his name loud enough for the Hangvan to hear it outside and he doesn't respond. He sometimes slips into old habits of not being able to move from his bed, and when he does, all the Bad Kids visit him until he can get out. They never rush him, and sometimes it turns into a slumber party.

Riz has night terrors. When he does sleep, which is rare in and of itself, he wakes up. When it's a good night, without screaming. He'll wake up in a cold sweat, unable to move for minutes or hours, but he won't scream. When it's a bad night, he will wake up screaming loud enough to reach the lowest floor of Strongtower luxury apartments, and he won't know where he is. He has hurt his mom, and his friends, and when he comes out of the haze of pure fear with sobbing noises that sound like his heart is being ripped from his chest.

Anyways, what are y'alls headcanons?

[nyxronomicon]

no, cause you're absolutely right with your tags. i too put that thought in the bag of dark thoughts that i should never open but i thought of you and said there is always someone who will be able to understand me lskdk and your tags,,, nodding fervently at your tags because i don't see him as a stepbro cause i love the age difference too lol but

i love love love love the idea of him coming into your room at night and waking you up with his fingers inside you and the bulge in his pajama pants pressing from behind. I also imagine him sitting on the couch when it's just you two, he invites you to join him to watch the game or something and it ends in him cockwarming you while playing with your nipples, you can't do anything but take it and feel it throb inside you until he finally cums inside you, but you have to do it fast before your mom/brother (choso maybe megumi) gets home from work <3 so the idea of being caught is very attractive to me

Sigh... *opens dark fantasies filing cabinet and pulls out stepdad Toji folder*

omg you did this on purpose... cockwarming while he plays with your tits??? my WEAKNESS and you added the risk of getting caught RIP RIP RIP i'm DEAD .... i'm sorry... i'm sorry for the sins... my pussy wrote this i swear...

cw: !! DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT !!, stepdad!Toji x f!reader, reader is university age, age difference, dub-con (coercion & implied somno), reader has major daddy issues, reader is touch/attention-starved, corruption, pussyjob, cockwarming, praise, titplay, risk of getting caught, slight edging, size (emphasis on Toji's big dick) pet names: princess, angel, good girl, reader is referred to as "step-daughter" but not as a pet name lol 2.2k sinful, sinful words

Your mother didn't even tell you she remarried. You got home from college for the summer to find a stranger and his son living at her place. You were resistant to the whole idea, but she made you promise to give them a chance and spend time with them. They were family now, after all.

Megumi was just a year older than you. He had one more year of university before graduation, so he was in a similar situation as you. You thought maybe you could bond about it, but he wasn't very talkative and showed more interest in his video games than you.

Your new stepdad... Toji Fushiguro. You didn't even know where to start with your thoughts on him. He was sleazy, shameless, and a little more friendly than you'd like. You couldn't really figure out what he did for work, and to be honest, you wouldn't be surprised if he didn't do anything. Your mom was a chronic workaholic, constantly gone on work trips and spending late hours at the office. She could easily support the three of you on her own.

There was another thought about him that clawed at the back of your mind. The one you immediately compartmentalized, the forbidden knowledge that once fully synthesized in your mind, you wouldn't be able to erase. It remained in a little bottle, threatening to shatter every time your stepfather got home from the gym. Or took you out to dinner. Or watched a movie with you.

You tried to include Megumi as much as possible at first, if only you have a buffer. Hanging out alone with Toji felt weird. It felt wrong, though you couldn't quite pin why. But Megumi was entirely disinterested in spending time with his dad, and only marginally more interested in getting to know his new stepsister.

After a couple of months of getting used to Toji, you were starting to notice things you liked about him. He was actually there for you, for one. Your mother was never around and in the past, and she never kept a man around long enough for you to have any kind of father figure. It was just you and her, but more often than not, it was really just you. You didn't realize how lonely you were at home but with him here, at least you had someone to talk to.

You let his sleazy comments slide. The few times you'd gone out with friends, he made sure to tell you how sexy you looked. And when you got home, he grilled you on if there were any guys you had an eye on. It always flustered you, reminding you of the forbidden thought trapped in that bottle. But as long as you didn't think about it too hard, it would stay bottled up, where it should be.

You hated to admit that your mother was right. That you liked your new stepdad after giving him a chance. You liked the banter, and he was always complimenting you. He made you feel good about yourself. So in turn, you let him get away with more. When you'd watch TV with him at home, you started cuddling with him. He was warm, comforting. Maybe you were a little old to be cuddling with your stepdad, but he smelled so nice and you always wondered what it would be like.

Your mom was at a conference. Megumi was gaming in the other room. It was like any other night, and you and Toji would be left alone as usual. You were half asleep, cuddled up to his chest, when you felt a hand on your breast. It took a second to process, your gaze suddenly shooting up to your stepdad, who froze in place.

"Oh," he smiled sheepishly. "Still awake, huh?" He whispered.

Your mind instantly replayed the number of times you'd innocently fallen asleep like this, only to wake up horny and wet. He was always sleeping himself, but surely he wasn't so brazen that he made a habit of groping you, his step-daughter, while you slept.

"What are you doing?" You whispered back, glancing at Megumi's door, which was open just a crack. You wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt, but his hand remained on your tit.

Toji pouted a little, gazing down at you. He knew it was wrong but he always had a weakness for naive college girls. "Sorry, your mother has been gone so much lately, I'm a little... pent up." His finger lightly brushed over your nipple, sending pleasure up your spine.

"Toji, we can't..." You whispered, though you made no motions to stop him. It felt good. He smelled divine. The living room was dark, only lit by the glow of the TV screen. Megumi could emerge from his room any minute and that only made this hotter.

"I know, I know." He agreed with you, but his fingers kept kneading your breast. "I just really like spending time with you. I wanted to take it a little further. Make you feel good." Heat flooded your body. You were sure if he could see your expression, he'd know about the dark thought threatening to take over.

You and your mother had the same taste in men. Admittedly you'd always been fixated on older men, maybe trying to fill the void the lack of a father had. But he filled that void perfectly. The reason it felt weird to spend time with him was because you wanted this. You wanted him to touch you and praise you. And you wanted more.

"I'll stop if you want me to." He added. It was too late, the desire in your body burning a hole in your innocence. The buried feelings you had for him shattered that tiny bottle. You wanted to fuck your stepdad.

Your face felt hot. You looked at the TV, playing sports highlights that you couldn't care less about. The sound was loud enough that you couldn't hear the clacking on Megumi's keyboard. And the sinful thought that entered your mind was that Megumi couldn't hear anything happening in here, either.

"No..." your voice was nearly silent. "Don't stop."

His eyes widened for a moment, movements paused. "Oh?" The empathetic smile on his face was replaced with one of a predator. The man could have torn himself away from you a moment ago but now? Even if you changed your mind he'd be playing those words in his head over and over until he could coerce them from your lips again. "You sure?" He added, in an attempt to appear more respectful than he intended to be.

The glow of the TV highlighted your features as you looked back at him. Your eyes were big and soft, like you were on the verge of taking back the permission you just gave him. Before you could say a word, his free hand tilted your chin, pressing a tender kiss to your lips. All the while, he massaged your breast again, your body melted against his.

"It's ok, princess. Just say the word and I'll stop." His voice was sensual, a soft murmur in your ear before his lips pressed to your neck. Shivers ran up your spine and you arched your back, giving him easier access to your collarbone.

It felt so good. His undivided attention, his touch, it was like a drug that you couldn't get enough of.

You knew you should tell him to stop as he tugged you onto his lap. You straddled his thick thighs, feeling his bulge against your clothed cunt. You knew how wrong it was for you to let him lift your top. The feeling of the forbidden pleasure coursed through you as he peppered kisses on your breasts. He was married to your mother. Thoughts of her long erased by his lips wrapping around your nipple. His tongue flicked the bud as your breathing became unsteady. He had a kid your age. But Toji Fushiguro doted on you, his son in the other room nearly forgotten as his thick fingers felt your pussy through the thin pajama shorts you wore.

Finally, finally you were the favorite. His fingers pushed your shorts and panties aside, sliding his cock into the space between the fabric and your wet cunt. It didn't matter that your mother ignored you in favor of the revolving door of your her lovers anymore. His thick girth was nestled perfectly between your pussy lips. You didn't need to grasp at straws trying to relate to your uninterested stepbrother. Toji's tip danced at your entrance, making you tingle with anticipation as you let yourself drown in his affection.

"So fuckin' sexy..." He mumbled against your breast. The praise nearly made you whimper, glancing at Megumi's cracked door as you bit your lip. "Wanna do me a favor?"

Words still escaped you, meeting his gaze with a shy nod of your head. It was almost cute, as if you were trying to play up the innocent act. Toji wanted nothing more than to flip you on your back and fuck you mercilessly on the couch until you were screaming his name. Get you to admit you'd been flirting and leading him on this whole time. After all, what kind of a slut shows this much interest in her stepdad? But with Megumi in the other room, he needed you quiet. And he knew just the perfect way to tease you.

"Just want you wrapped around me for a minute." He pushed his hips up so you could feel his cock sliding in your folds.

"Toji, we..." you trailed off a moment, considering how desperately you wanted to say yes. Your eyes were on Megumi's door again, dreading the idea that he could get up at any moment and find the two of you like this. "We shouldn't." You whispered.

"It's not sex." His hands were on your ass, encouraging you to grind against his dick. Your body moved with a mind of its own, the friction adding to the heat bubbling in your core. "Just a little cockwarming. It's no big deal."

"I don't know..." You knew there were reasons to say no but none of them came to mind anymore. You were so needy and horny and you felt yourself melting into every touch.

"It'll feel good. Don't you want to feel good?" He pressed his lips to your ear, whispering softly. His finger found your clit, toying with the sensitive bud as you rolled your hips against him.

You didn't answer, freezing up while pleasure coursed through you. Your cunt ached, desperate to be filled with him. You buried your face in his neck, panting as you whined silently in response.

"C'mon, princess." He fingered you faster, a sadistic grin spreading on his face. You were close. He could tell you were close from how fucking wet you were. Even his balls were soaked. "You want me to stop?" He slowed his ministrations, watching your reaction carefully.

"Don't stop." You immediately murmured. Your core frustratingly teetered on edge, frowning at your stepfather for toying with you like this. "Fuck," you moaned softly, careful to remain as silent as possible. You'd had sex before but college boys were nothing compared to him. You'd never ever wanted someone so bad. "I wanna cockwarm you..."

"Good girl." Toji grinned, and the praise went straight to your cunt. He lined himself up, your natural slick more than enough lubrication despite his size. It was a tight fit, he slowly eased your hips down until he bottomed out with a groan. "So good for me... my perfect angel..." admiration dripped from his lips.

The praise alone was enough for your pussy to flutter around him. Your back arched, a lewd expression on your face as your gaze met his. He smirked, now knowing how easy it would be to make you cum. "Stay still for me, princess. No matter what." You eagerly nodded your head, hoping for more praise. But he said nothing, instead groping your tits before latching on again.

He paid close attention to your irregular breathing. As his tongue and teeth tugged at your nipple, one of his hands toyed with your other breast. His free hand slid down your torso and into your panties, swirling around your clit. Your breath hitched, your cunt tightening around him. Feeling how full his big dick made you. You were getting close again as desire bubbled in your core.

You sighed with ecstasy, obediently doing your best not to move around. Slick now drooled onto the base of his cock, your sweet pussy clenching around him as your pleasure heightened, a familiar heat swirling within you. You felt so sensitive, fighting the instincts that were desperate for friction. You bit your knuckle holding back the moan that threatened to burst as Toji's movements sped up.

Your whole body tensed up, your orgasm suddenly and violently washing through you. Your cunt squeezed him as he helped you ride through the pleasure, his hands now gripping your hips to hold you in place. He continued to suck your tit, although his movement slowed to allow you to breathe. Still, he refused to pull out until he felt an aftershock or two strangle his cock.

"Such a good girl." Toji murmured in the shell of your ear, tugging you against his chest and leaning back onto the sofa.

@sourpeachsayshi

[steddieas-shegoes]

Steve was doing this for Robin.

He had to keep telling himself this. He could get through the day, the weekend, life, if he just kept repeating this to himself.

But an hour into their day, his pants ripped.

Not in a place it can be hidden, not a small one.

Right along his ass.

And because Robin insisted he’d be fine, he didn’t bring a bag with a change of clothes.

He could buy some, sure, if he wanted to spend $60 on special convention sweatpants that would be entirely too hot, unflattering, and ruin the costume Robin insisted he wear to match hers.

He was hiding in the bathroom currently, furiously texting Robin to let her know he was just going to stay there until it was time to leave.

She’d be mad at him, but she’d be more mad at herself for not letting him bring a change of clothes.

His pants weren’t even tight. Luke Skywalker doesn’t exactly wear tight clothes. He had no reason behind the rip other than the universe just hating him as much as possible.

Robin told him she would find someone to help, whatever that means, but he didn’t think that was possible without just buying new pants.

He stood in the corner of the continuously crowded bathroom, trying not to draw attention, but knowing it was incredibly odd to just stand in the corner of a public bathroom.

Ten minutes passed and a guy walked in with a backpack and a sign that says “Free Cosplay Repair” and Steve knew what Robin had done.

The man was pretty, and not dressed up, but seemed like he wished he was. Maybe it was difficult to repair if he was wearing some elaborate costume.

Steve didn’t know how this worked.

“Are you Steve?”

Steve nodded.

His voice was calming, and Steve instantly trusted him to fix the problem.

“Heard you’ve got a bit of a problem with the costume. Big or small?”

“Uh. Pretty big, man.”

“Ah. Tear along the ass, then. Happens all the time.”

He set his backpack down and started rummaging through the front pocket. When he pulled out a sewing kit, Steve realized he was going to have to get this fixed in a public bathroom with this very attractive man staring at and touching his ass for who knows how long.

“Um.”

“It’ll be better if you can take them off. I’ll be able to sew it much faster.”

Steve couldn’t just stand around in his boxers. That was not part of the plan or the agreement with Robin. People were coming and going from the bathroom at a rapid rate.

“Is there somewhere private we can go?”

“Awww, Stevie, feeling shy?”

Steve’s face was beet red. He was feeling a little shy, and being called out on it by a hot guy kind of made him think about being called out on other things in other ways and his brain was not doing well.

“My name’s Eddie. I come with my friend Chrissy to a bunch of these every year. We have a tent set up on the show floor for privacy, but you’d have to walk to it. I could walk behind you if you want?”

“Oh. Okay. Um. Sure.”

It was better than standing half naked in this bathroom.

So they left, and Eddie stayed right behind him, covering him from possible exposure to the growing crowd.

He would lean forward and direct him to the tent every few seconds, leaving goosebumps behind from how close he got to his ear to be heard.

When they arrived, Chrissy was finishing up with supergluing something to a mask. Eddie touched her shoulder and whispered something to her. She rolled her eyes and smiled at him before turning back to the person she was helping.

Eddie nudged Steve into their tent.

“Alright, shouldn’t take too long. Take them off, Luke.”

Steve rolled his eyes but followed directions. The faster this was done, the faster he could get back to Robin, who was probably so deep into the crowd by now that he’d never find her anyways.

Maybe he should just stay here. Learn to sew. Become a part of their traveling repair team.

They seemed nice enough.

Eddie got started immediately, and Steve was grateful for the privacy the tent provided. He sat down on a stool they had set up in the corner and put his hands in his lap, covering as much of himself as he could. He was definitely not confident in this place.

He’d embraced that he liked some nerdy things. He was fine with it.

But he was way out of his element here.

“You come to these a lot?”

“No. Just supporting my friend.”

“Explains not being as prepared as the pros.”

“I did try to be. My friend said I’d be fine. Don’t know why I listened to her.”

Eddie snorted. “She a friend or a…friend?”

Steve laughed so loudly, Eddie jumped. “Sorry. She’s very much not straight and I am very much not interested.”

“Is she Leia?”

“Yeah.”

“Everyone will assume you’re together, you know?”

“Yeah, well. She said I had to and I owed her.”

“Must’ve done you a big favor.”

“You could say that.”

Eddie’s hands were moving quickly, and Steve couldn’t help watching in amazement.

“How long have you been doing this?”

“What? Sewing? Or conventions?”

“Both.”

Eddie smiled while he worked.

“Sewing since I was 11. I was in charge of fixing my and my uncle’s clothes since we couldn’t really afford new ones unless I outgrew them. Then in high school I did costumes for drama and cheerleaders. That’s how I met Chrissy. She was a secret nerd so she took me to a convention and I saw too many people crying over broken and torn cosplays so I started doing this.”

“For free?”

“Yeah. I already had most of the supplies on hand and I’m not using them all so why not?”

“That’s really…kind.”

He saw Eddie’s cheeks blush, but he didn’t comment.

Maybe he’d gain some upper hand here despite being half naked in a tent with a stranger.

“It’s not a big deal.”

“It kind of is, man. Just take the compliment. It’s really selfless.”

“Okay. Yeah. I guess. Thanks.”

They settled into a comfortable silence and Steve really took in the tent. There were things hanging up that he vaguely recognized as D&D monsters from Dustin’s room.

“Hey, the kid I babysit is into that.”

“What?”

“The dungeons game.”

“Really?”

“Yeah! I think he even has that exact print in his room.”

“No shit? I made these. I have an Etsy shop.”

“You’re kidding. He’s gonna freak out that I met you.”

“Well, shit. Take one for him.”

“Oh, I couldn’t do that.”

“Yeah you could. I’m not letting you leave until you do.”

Steve felt his heart flutter.

Dustin was like his little brother and he loved him so much. Any time someone did something kind for him, it melted his heart.

He didn’t have time for feelings for a stranger.

Not at a convention where he was the outcast.

“I guess if you insist.”

“I do.”

Steve was a fucking mess. Emotionally, he was the type to get really attached really quickly. It’s why all of his relationships ended within weeks. He was ready to be completely committed and they never were. He fell hard and fast for anyone who showed him even a tiny bit of interest.

He had to get out of this tent.

“I’m not rushing you, but how much longer?”

“I’m almost done. Few more minutes. Doing okay?”

“Yeah. Just wanna find Robin.”

“Text her to meet you here. She knows where it is.”

“How would she know that?”

“I’ve met her a few times at other conventions and she always stops by to say hello.”

Robin knew this guy?

Suddenly, he realized what was going on.

She was setting him up.

“Take your time. She can wait.”

Eddie slowed his hands and looked up at Steve.

“Uh. Okay.”

“She’s a traitor who did this to me on purpose.”

“Ripped your pants?”

“Yes.”

Eddie stopped what he was doing completely.

“She ripped your pants on purpose? How would she have done that?”

“She pulled a seam out or something.”

“Why would she do that?”

“Because she’s trying to set us up.”

“Us?!”

“Yep. Sorry. I promise I don’t expect anything. She just does this sometimes. Thinks I’m lonely or whatever.”

Eddie searched his face for a minute, then looked back down at his work.

“Are you?”

“Am I what?”

“Lonely.”

Well, yeah. Robin didn’t get the assumption from nowhere. But he didn’t really want to admit that to a stranger.

“Yeah, I guess.”

Apparently, he was going to anyways.

“Hm.”

“Hm?”

“Mhm.”

Steve huffed out a breath.

Eddie stood suddenly and came over to Steve, pushing his shoulder back and his legs apart so he could fit between them.

Eddie’s hand cupped his chin, pulling it up so he could look at him.

Steve gulped.

He was feeling more than vulnerable at this point and wasn’t sure what to do about it.

“Your friend must really love you to want to make sure you aren’t lonely.”

“Um. Yeah.”

“You know, I’m taking a lunch break in about an hour if you wanna hang around. I could use some company.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. One condition though.”

“What’s that?”

“You take the pants off again.”

Steve laughed and Eddie couldn’t help the smile he aimed down at him.

“You want me to eat in just my boxers?”

“Well, not just your boxers. That’ll be later at the hotel.”

God, this guy was good. Smoother than Steve’s ever been and he was known for his charming nature for years.

“You think I’ll come back to your hotel?”

“I know you will.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because I only temporarily fixed these pants. The stuff you need is back at my room.”

“What if I don’t care about the pants?”

“All the more reason to leave them off when you come to my room.”

They smiled at each other.

Steve felt brave. He felt a little ridiculous. Most of all, he felt like he couldn’t pass up the opportunity literally staring him in the face.

He leaned up a bit more and waited for Eddie to lean down.

When their lips met, Steve knew he was completely fucked.

Robin had fucked him over and he’d never been so grateful.

[therainscene]

I think I might have figured out what the Mind Flayer really is.

This theory has been percolating in my brain for a while now; it hasn't really finished baking yet but I wanted to get the gist of it down before The First Shadow debuts.

Let’s begin at the Hawkins National Lab, 6th November 1983. For the second time in her young life, El faces terrifying and deeply traumatic circumstances which cause her powers to lash out and rip a gash in the fabric of reality.

Meanwhile, across town, Will is doing what every queer 12 year-old has done and finds an excuse to spend an extra moment alone with his crush.

His little gay heart is as aflutter as the garage lights.

(Strange, that. The lights, I mean -- considering that he's on the other side of town from the lab. Do you suppose the Demogorgon trekked all the way to Mike's house and quietly followed him home again?)

Will heads home, lost in thought as he cycles past the lab. Is he thinking about how sweet his new X-Men #134 is gonna be? Or is he thinking about something even sweeter? The lights flutter again.

And something in front of him notices.

Will has always been noticeable: his clothes, his mannerisms, his interests -- they've always attracted the attentions of bullies. Now something new -- or maybe something that was always there and is only now making itself known -- has attracted the attentions of a monster.

He runs home, he calls for help, but he's alone, there's no escape. He races to the shed and loads a gun like his father taught him -- but it's not in his nature to be violent. He freezes, petrified.

The lights surge as his terror wrestles control of his powers and uses them to puncture an escape route in the fabric of reality.

Why were we so quick to believe that the Demogorgon -- a minion of the guy whose whole thing is his inability to open gates -- was able to open its own temporary portals in S1 and then never again?

Will could plausibly have been responsible for every temporary portal in S1: he’s at the Byers house when the Demogorgon pushes through its walls; he's on the run to Castle Byers when Nancy stumbles across that portal in the woods; and he's plugged in to one of Vecna's vines during the finale -- something we see Vecna plug himself into when he remotely opens gates in S4.

There’s one exception though.

Barb likely slipped through a gate in Steve's pool, but how could Will have opened that one when he was in his bedroom at the time, talking to his mother through the lights?

Let me ask you this: isn't it interesting that of all the injuries Barb could have obtained in her passage to the Upside Down, she got a nosebleed?

I think powers are more common than we’ve been led to believe, and gates are a last-ditch self-defense mechanism for anyone with powers.

This is why the four curse victims’ deaths opened a gate: Vecna pushed them to their breaking point to artificially trigger the self-defense response. Those headaches and nosebleeds weren't caused by Vecna directly, but by their own powers acting up as they inched towards oblivion.

[Shoutout to @givehimthemedicine's underrated powers and blood theory for the idea of Vecna's Curse being the overcharging of his victims' own powers.]

It was already pretty obvious that Vecna's Curse is a metaphor for suicide, and this theory reinforces it: every kid who gets targeted by the horrors of Hawkins for being "different" tries to find some way to escape.

Willel's misfortune is that their powers are considerably more easily manifested than the average person's. Byler tells the story of visible vs invisible queerness, but that's just a reflection of the larger theme at play in the show: the visible and invisible ways kids are othered and abused.

Max's trauma was a quiet thing that came from within and festered until it was almost too late to save her... but Willel's trauma manifests as a giant monster that openly hunts them down.

And I'm being literal when I say the Mind Flayer is a manifestation of their trauma.

We know that Vecna fashioned the Mind Flayer from a cloud of black particles he found in the Upside Down, but where did that cloud come from? The Upside Down is a mysterious enough place that it's easy to assume the Shadow is native to that realm... but what if it isn't?

The Mind Flayer is heavily associated with repression -- Will gradually lost his memories while he was possessed, and El lost her powers when the sliver of Flesh Flayer wormed its way into her leg.

But Will has mysteriously been without powers ever since leaving the Upside Down, and we've seen El lose memories too: her memories of surviving the lab massacre, in which she didn't simply escape by opening up a gate, but by disintegrating her attacker into black particles.

The Mind Flayer doesn't cause repression -- it is repression.

There must have been countless generations worth of traumatized children who took the extra step El did and sent their abusers -- or at least their memories of abuse -- into that hidden realm beyond the gate.

(There's also the possibility that Mr. Time-is-Just-a-Social-Construct is stuck in a time loop of some sort -- maybe the massacre has repeated hundreds of times, and Dimension X is a timeless graveyard of El's attempts to repress her trauma. This would explain why Henry seems to have both disintegrated and survived: we were watching at least two different iterations of the massacre all along.)

Whichever way you slice it, it's a perfect fit: the tool Vecna uses to perpetuate the cycle of abuse isn't some bizarro alien from an alternate dimension, but a direct consequence of the cycle itself.

The Mind Flayer tells us that escape alone doesn't work as a long-term solution: it might help you survive the initial abuse, but if you don't address the effect it had on you...

...it will come back to wreck havok.

[Edit: Click here for post-TFS thoughts on this theory]

[pedgito]

just saw an asks where you are talking about mean eddie mocking you and it did something to me lmao. could you elaborate on that with a little blurb. maybe ur riding eddie and it just feels so good that your legs give up on u and he is being mean and sarcastic about it till he takes the lead

author’s note: i couldn’t remember what i said about that so just enjoy really playful/mean eddie, this would’ve been longer but i’ve been struggling a bit lately, still i hope you enjoy!

cw: 18+ (minors dni) mean!eddie & mean!reader (but it’s all playful, slight dom!eddie (if you squint), protected sex, multiple orgasms, aftercare, if i missed anything lmk!

word count: 1.8k

Eddie was an antagonizer in its purest form, never malicious but always with an endgame in mind. It would start as subtle teasing, off-handed comments that would have you retorting back in such a manner that Eddie couldn’t help but smile, knowing he’d get you back for it later.

He’d crowd behind you at your locker, hand clasped over yours where it’s gripping the metal and whisper against your ear, “Keep wearing stuff like that and I’m not gonna be able to handle myself.”

You could wear anything and Eddie would have the same response, but that was beside the point. His free hand slips into the open hole of your ripped jeans against your upper thigh and squeezes, forcing a surprised laugh out of you, muffling it with your hand as you ducked your head into your locker, elbowing him gently with your other arm.

It was an everyday occurrence now and you’ve learned the only way to shut him up is to react, even if you’d regret it later.

“What? So you can fuck me in the bathroom again?” You tease lightly, “A whole three minutes? I know you can do better.”

Eddie shrugs, “Can you blame me?”

His attraction toward you was never-ending and intense, something you’ve never experienced before him. Eddie was the kind of suffocating love you always wanted, soaking up every moment of it.

“Part of me thinks you like the idea of getting caught,” You smirk half heartedly, “kinda fucked up if you ask me.”

“You’re one to talk.” Eddie replies, ignoring your obvious jab.

You laugh softly, leaning forward until your lips are barely touching, eyes glaring into Eddie’s, “Is that what you want?”

Eddie makes a small noise of confusion, still playing into your act.

“You wanna fuck me, right here?” Eddie wouldn’t dare, he’s not that asinine, but he enjoys the back and forth, the deep fire in your eyes as you speak to him. Your hand tugs at the hem of his shirt, hand resting just above the belt of his jeans, twisting the shirt in your hands slightly before pulling him toward you abruptly, pressing a bruising kiss against his lips.

“Too bad,” You answer for him, “I need to focus on this English test,” Eddie scoffs, rolling his eyes—you were perfectly fine, up to aces with all of your work and there wasn’t a doubt in his mind that you wouldn’t pass, “and Principal Higgins is watching us—so you should probably get to class.”

Eddie chances a glance to his left, realizing just how right you were. He looks back quickly, familiar smirk on your face as you pull away, reaching behind you to close your locker.

“Stay out of trouble?” You ask, tone soft and warm toward him.

“No promises,” He replies wearily, scratching at the side of his jaw, mindful of the eyes still watching you both, “everyone’s out to get me, remember?”

“You’ll stay out of trouble,” You assure him again, eyeing him briefly, eyes dragging from head to toe, “right?”

And he can see it in the look you give him, the salacious grin on your face. There would be consequences—or metaphorical consequences, not that he didn’t have a way to counter them, but he nods.

“Mhmm,” He agrees, nodding slightly. “Promise.”

But, promises didn’t always hold up and we’re bound to break at some point.

And it’s no surprise when you find Eddie in after school detention with an even more shameful look on his face than earlier in the day, dragging his feet up to you in a leisurely manner as he wraps his arms over your shoulder, slung around you loosely.

“You never listen to me,” You complain with amusement, letting him press a light kiss into your hair, the smirk evident in his face even if you couldn’t see him. “Do you?”

Eddie thinks for a moment, briefly, “No.”

So, by later that night, it’s almost a constant back and forth, neither of you daring to break until Eddie gets his hands around your thighs, pulling you tight against him, burying himself even deeper.

“What was that?” He asks, a patronizing lilt in his voice, breath coming out in pants. “I didn’t hear you.”

“I can’t—“ You breath out, shoving his hands away weakly, “no more, Eddie, please.”

He’d already managed to make you come twice, quickly working his way into a third, his hips moving gingerly as he listened to you, though he was obviously enjoying your torture, his eyes lighting up at the feeling of your muscles twitching involuntarily under his touch, too weak to even raise yourself up onto your knees.

“Fuck—you really got a fuckin’ mouth on you when you like to think you’re in charge,” Eddie laughs slightly, “baby, that’s never the case.”

And even if that was true, you don’t really mind.

“Eddie,” You plead, hands shoved against his chest in an effort to push away slightly, “come on.”

“Do you really wanna stop?” Eddie teases, fingers slipping into the dip where your hips meet your pelvis and rocking your hips slowly, eyebrows knitting together in pleasure as your mouth drops open, a broken gasp leaving your lips.

Your eyes are barely open, riddled with exhaustion and hanging on by a thread.

“Didn’t think so.” He comments off handedly, “Look at me.”

You shake your head petulantly, lids falling shut as you breathe deeply, savoring the deep penetrating feeling of Eddie inside of you, hitting the spot that made your entire body ache, skin feeling white hot.

Eddie slaps your thigh lightly, a gentle warning.

“Hey,” Eddie chides, “you can handle it, right?”

It’s the same tone you used on him early, only countered toward you. He knew exactly how to get under your skin.

“Shut up.” You pout, blunt nails digging into his chest.

Eddie grunts softly, tutting his tongue against his teeth.

“S’not as sweet when you’re on the receiving end, is it?”

Eddie drives his point even further with a sharp thrust of his hips, hands squeezing impossibly tight against your skin.

Your mouth falls open further, which Eddie mimics in a way that drives you mad, face contorting into a mix of frustration and yearning, begging him to give it up—whatever act he was playing or devious plan he had in the back of his mind.

But, Eddie was stubborn.

“I know you wanna say it,” Eddie tells you, “Say it—say my name, sweetheart.”

You sigh heavily, head tipping back, “Fuck—Eddie,” Eddie makes a quiet noise of approval, “Eddie—“

“See how perfect you sound when all you can think about is me,” Eddie seethes, grunting as the rate of thrusts grew faster, forcing you to fall forward, hands digging into the soft fabric of the pillow, “so drunk on my dick you can’t think of anything else.”

“I’ve got plenty of thoughts in my head.” You retort.

Eddie huffs a laugh, daring you to challenge him.

His hands grip your own, clasped between his warm palms, his hips suddenly unmoving.

“Do it yourself then,” He instructs, “yeah?”

But, your body was entirely too weak, hips aching from the stretch and muscles screaming protest—you just wanted to rest, have Eddie wrap his body around you and lull you to sleep, but instead you were here, reaping the consequences of getting under Eddie’s skin all day.

Your movements are slow, without any real rhythm, just a desperate grind of your hips, seeking the friction.

And it’s frustrating, face again furrowing in annoyance as you rocked your hips jerkily, eventually giving up, slight frown on your face.

“Say you’re sorry,” Eddie says, “for teasing me, making fun of me—“

“God, you’re unbelievable—“

Eddie makes a pointed face, eyebrow quirking in amusement.

The smug bastard. He didn’t care for an apology, he just wanted the satisfaction of seeing your crumble under his will.

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” You say in exasperation, “but Eddie, I can’t—I really can’t take anymore—“

Eddie nods, pulling you down toward his chest and flipping you in one slow, fluid motion, bodies never disconnecting.

“That’s all I needed to hear,” He smiles, leaning down to capture your lips in a deep, hurried kiss, hips moving quickly against you, his fingers finding your clit almost instantly and it’s all too overwhelming, body pliant to his touch but aching for release, “you still with me?”

You nod slightly, forcing your head deeper against the pillow, eyes shut in exhaustion as Eddie pressed himself against you, mouthing at random parts of your skin, delicate touches to remind you he was still there, his hand still an igniting pressure against your cunt, fingers working quickly over your swollen clit.

“Hey, eyes,” He nudges softly, squeezing at your thigh, “look at me, babe.”

You peek at him slightly, laughing at his righteous grin.

“Just one more,” He promises, his early words seeping back into your thoughts, “that’s it.”

And when it hits you, you don’t even have the energy to make a sound, mouth falling open as you grip at Eddie’s shoulder, bound to leave bruises from the tightness of it. He makes sure to carry you through until it’s all over, snapping his hips a few more times until it’s over for himself, having held out for longer than he’s used to—it’s guttural, the groan that escapes him, hands fisting in to the pillow beside your head to avoid squeezing you too hard.

“So, about those three minutes—“ You start lightly, attempting to wean Eddie back into consciousness.

“Had to prove a point,” Eddie explains through staggered huffs, “how’d I do?”

“Do I really need to answer that?” You ask profoundly, hair matted to your face from the sweat, chests touching with every breath you took.

“Just checking,” He chuckles, pressing a messy, closed mouth kiss over the tip of your nose, “gotta piss me off more often, sweetheart—this is pretty fun.”

“Fuck you.” You reply playfully, kicking him off weakly until he’s falling to his back on the mattress, “I can’t even feel my legs.”

Eddie disposes of the condom discreetly while you slowly slip your underwear back on, crawling back up the bed lazilyy until he’s flat on his stomach, hands reaching for the tender flesh of your thigh.

“Let me take care of you then,” Eddie smiles slightly, those his words are laced with dangerous undertone—it’s all teasing, but it earns a familiar look of warning his way, “I meant like, a massage or something. You know, not everything I say is dirty minded—“

You offer a pointed glance his way, seeing right through his bullshit.

“Okay, most of it is—but come on, let me.”

You sigh quietly, nodding in response.

His touches are just as gentle, if not more.

It’s a reminder of how well Eddie balanced all of it, the hard intensity of his exterior alongside the delicate personality woven on the inside—it’s nothing like you’ve ever experienced before, but it was everything you needed.

Please consider a reblog if you enjoyed this fic! It’s makes a huge difference. ♡

[piratefishmama]

Fake It Till You Make It | Part 8

"Oh Steven..."

The view of Eddie was obstructed pretty quickly when Steve manoeuvred him behind him, turning fully to face his dad using his broader body to shield Eddie from view. “He’s—”

“Panicking. He’s panicking. I have eyes Steven. Lynda get this poor boy a glass of water would you?” A chair creaking from inside the room told them all his mother had gotten up to do as she was asked, and while that might have caused most to relax, Steve still stood his ground. A human blockade. “It’s okay son, you’re going to have to move eventually it might as well be now, he’s safe.”

“Is he?” Eddie rested his forehead against the centre of Steve’s shoulders, right at the base of his neck, just… rested there, Steve wouldn’t let anyone hurt him, it’d be okay.

“Well I’m not about to invite my son to send me to hospital, am I?” A wise choice, it seemed like Steve was fully prepared to do just that if necessary. “This house is safe for you both, and it always will be.” John stepped to the side a little, just enough to be able to see around Steve’s shoulder, although Steve was tempted to move into his way again, he’d put himself in the way of a train if it meant protecting someone else, Eddie was certain of it at that point “Eddie… was it?”

He’d overheard while Steve was talking to him. He knew his name. Eddie looked up, basically peeking over Steve’s shoulder. It was awkward, given they were almost the same height, but… he still felt safer there.

“Oh heavens, John step aside, you’re frightening the poor thing to death” And there was Lynda, nudging John aside with a tall glass of water in hand “Eddie, come on out from behind there,” as if ‘there’ wasn’t her damn close to six foot son “it’s okay” he was a grown man, yet he felt like he was seven all over again, hiding behind a couch away from the police who’d come to get his dad.

He’d only hidden because his dad used to tell him that if he was naughty the police would take him away, and he may have… coincidentally… drawn on his bedroom wall, he’d hidden it pretty well but… there were suddenly police bashing down the door!

Just so happened they were there for his father, who’d been doing much naughtier things.

Steve didn’t move, so that left the choice up to him. A choice he had to make, no matter how scary it was. He was there, there was no getting out of the plan now. They’d seen him, he couldn’t make a run for it… or he could but he’d never able to look Steve or Dustin in the face ever again, which left only one real option.

He took a deep breath, placed a hand on Steve’s bicep, and stepped out from behind him. Steve’s hand was very quick to find his, holding him, grounding him, a tether to keep him stable and god it felt nice to have it there, warm, and secure, fingers perfectly slotted between his own. He could only imagine what a pair they looked though.

The King and the Court Jester.

The Jock and the Freak.

Perfect and Completely Imperfect.

He knew what he looked like, how people looked at him, even in clean clothes, even having brushed his hair, he still looked like he’d just rolled out of bed sometimes, and Steve… god… There weren’t words for how perfect Steve looked.

It seemed effortless but Eddie knew Steve must have put in genuine effort. It was attractive how much effort he must have been putting in.

They all looked that perfect though. He truly looked so very out of place. Lynda in her pristine white shirtdress, a belt around her waist giving it shape and John in his expensive pale blue polo and pressed chinos.

There he was, in a hand-me-down red and black flannel, the only pair of jeans he owned that weren’t ripped at the knee (although they were getting there), hands full of silver rings, an old handed down Casio watch, scuffed Reeboks, and the one band Tee he had that wasn’t dirty.

The pickings had been slim he really should have done some laundry. He should have accepted Steve’s offer to help him clean up. They’d have been still doing it!

“Hi… I’m—I’m Eddie… Eddie Munson.” They didn’t know the family name, and it didn’t surprise him either, Wayne wasn’t raised in Hawkins, he’d just settled there after he learned Eddie would be handed to him. Traded his truck for a trailer in a random pick of a town and swapped his long haul journeys for night shifts at the plant and that was that.

They couldn’t have known his family name.

“Oh my…” it wasn’t a disgusted oh my, although her eyes did widen, he felt… seen as she looked him up and down, seemingly sizing him up, and then… she turned to Steve and all his worries seemed to vanish when she, with genuine mischief in her voice, said “he’s a bit out of your league isn’t he, Steven? I know we encourage you to be ambitious but—”

“W-what?!” And that was Steve, flustered in his response “No, I’m—he’s—”

“Sweetheart” oh she sounded so cheeky “he has tattoos” Eddie quickly glanced down at his bare forearms where he’d rolled his sleeves up earlier, bats on display, his tattoos usually a source of judgement, she wasn’t judging him though. “You’re afraid of needles.”

“I am NOT!”

“That’s not what I remember from your last round of shots.”

“I was five.” At least he was the last time they’d gone with him to get his shots done. "I've had plenty of shots since then."

“These fears don’t just vanish, Steven, how do you expect to hold onto this handsome young man if you can’t even handle a little pri—”

“Lynda please.” John interrupted what would have been a stellar takedown with a comical amount of exasperation, the man pinching the bridge of his nose as if staving off an incoming headache. Eddie, against all odds, was smiling, fighting back genuine giggles, the free hand not wrapped within Steve’s lifted to cover his mouth as if to hold them in.

“What? It’s not like it didn’t work.” She handed John the glass she’d been holding, since Eddie no longer seemed to need the water, then took a step closer to Eddie “Eddie, dear… how about you and Steven come into the living room, and we can get to know you a little, how does that sound?” There was no anger in her tone, no disgust hidden in the layers of it, she just… she smiled at him.

Where were these ‘rich assholes’ people kept claiming the Harringtons to be? Because he didn’t see them. He could understand the hesitation to trust, he was still nervous, the fear still licked at his very soul that maybe, just maybe they were biding their time, waiting for the right moment to strike when he couldn’t get out, but… was there any reason to be distrustful?

Had the Harringtons ever been outspoken against his people? Ever? Save for maybe one or two occasions where Steve had called someone queer as an insult back in high school, before he’d obviously grown.

People just assumed.

Those at the bottom just assumed the worst of all of those at the top. Same as most assumed the worst of him, that he was mean, that he was scary. They were just at opposite ends of the social ladder. There had to be some good among the rich, why not the Harringtons?

Why couldn’t they be good? Why not at least give them the opportunity to be good?

“Y-yeah… yeah, that’d uh—that’d be okay I think.” Steve squeezed his hand so gently, another attempt to ground him, to keep him tethered. To keep him calm, and it worked. It helped. Steve was there, Steve would keep him safe. No matter who came at them, Steve would keep him safe, not a King at all.

A loyal Knight, a Paladin, a Defender. He’d probably be safe walking through the fiery pits of hell itself, as long as Steve was there beside him. “You sure you’re okay, Eddie? We can go back to yours, we can just… try another day.” And Steve checked in with him too as his parents returned to the Living room, Lynda pausing at the door to wait for them while her husband continued on.

Steve’s hand warm around his, looking at him with a level of concern nobody had bothered to bestow upon him before.

Not even Wayne, but Wayne was kinda gruff, he showed his love in other ways. Steve barely knew him… he was just, that kind of person apparently.

“Nah, we’re here now and with you here? My very own big, strong knight in shining armour? I’m pretty sure I could brave anything.”

And that bashful little smile of Steve’s whenever someone praised him?

Beautiful.

Beautiful enough to chase any bad feelings away with their tails between their legs. Beautiful enough to give him the boost he needed to pull Steve along by his hand and into that living room with Lynda, beautiful enough to give him the strength to take on the goddamn world.

Or at least the scariest thing he could think of in it at the time, that being… being himself in front of two complete strangers who could ruin his life with zero repercussions aside from their son being angry at them.

So it was a pretty big deal, that smile of his.

The first thing Eddie registered as he entered the main living room though, was that off to the right, there was a magnificent mahogany table, complete with three chairs on either side and one at each end.

Last time he’d seen it, it’d been covered in pizza boxes and alcohol options, its majesty concealed beneath a layer of filth. “Stevie can I—” couldn’t help himself

“Later” Steve was quicker than him though, Dustin had already brought up the table before, it wasn’t hard to guess where Eddie’s mind would go.

Of course he’d shot Dustin down, but Eddie? Maybe… just maybe he’d let Eddie use it. Only once his parents left again though, something told him they’d draw a line at a Dungeons and Dragons campaign, one of the main highlights of the ongoing Satanic Panic, being held in their dining room, whether they used it or not.

“So!" John began as he found his seat once more, waiting only for Steve and Eddie to sit down on the sofa close by, side by side, hand in hand, looking like the least likeliest pair in existence, to begin. "Eddie, tell us a little about yourself, how’d you both meet?”

Straight into the deep end then. "Well..."

Part 10

[scarletttries]

NSFW Headcanon Request: Steven Grant (Moon Knight)

Steven Grant + Professor Kink/AU: (prompt list here)

- Steven Grant thought there was no greater joy or honour in teaching young minds about ancient Egyptian history, and then he started teaching you.

- He had seen flocks of enthusiastic young people come and go from his halls over the last few years of teaching, and sure he'd had a few favourites here and there, but nothing compared to the first time his eyes locked on yours from behind his lectern. It was embarrassing how quickly he tripped up his speech as his eyes lingered on yours, unable to look away from the unique sparkle that flickered so clearly in them. He tried to remember where he got to in his introduction, blush rushing up his cheeks as his heart sped up far more than his usual presenting nerves, and when he watched you smile at the way he fumbled through his first attempt at a joke he started to think maybe this is what love at first sight must feel like.

- When you found him after class and asked one of the most creative questions he'd ever heard from a student in his years of teaching he couldn't quite believe how exhilarating it was to talk to you, butterflies stirring up inside him as if he'd made an instant old friend. He bit back his tongue as the thought of asking you to continue this conversation over dinner crossed his mind, trying to remind himself of his position as your professor despite how easy it was to view you as his true equal.

- You had been feeling more than a little frustrated that you had to take at least one history module as part of your studies, but at least Ancient Egypt had been your favourite time period when you were learning history in school. And when you noticed your adorably handsome professor stumble over his words with a sly smile when he caught your eye, you were pretty sure you'd never miss a lecture again.

- You'd find reasons to talk to him after class or during his office hours, and he'd send you articles or podcasts he thought you'd find interesting, telling you to call him any time to discuss your thoughts. He wanted to pretend that the power imbalance wasn't any part of his blatant attraction to you, but he couldn't ignore the way his pulse raced every time you called him professor. And finally as the spring turned to summer and you started wearing your favourite short dresses to his class, watching the way your legs would float down the stairs as you found a seat about halfway back, he knew he wasn't going to be able to wait until you graduated before he finally told you how he felt.

- It wasn't unusual for him to ask you to come to his office out of hours, usually just for an academic discussion over a cup of tea that inevitably turned to the two of you sharing more and more personal stories. But on this day you were greeted by a glass of wine and a bouquet of roses, rather than an academic text. He looked almost pale as he stumbled through the sweet confession that he had never felt like this before, and even though he knew it was improper, he couldn't bring himself to wait another minute to tell you how he felt.

- As he stares at you with the most hopeful eyes, you'd lunge forwards, wrapping your arms around his neck before landing your lips on his, finally giving him the sweetest relief of knowing how it feels to kiss you. He'd be so gentlemanly that first night, insisting he takes you on a real date so he can prove this isn't just a torrid love affair to him. You'd reluctantly agree to wait a little longer to rip his clothes off, surprised by the nervous giggle he'd let out in response, grabbing his keys so he can take you somewhere far enough away that you won't see anyone else from the university.

- A discussion over drinks with your fingers intertwined would feel more natural and comfortable than any interaction sweet Steven had ever had, as when you whisper in his ear that your ready for 'his private office hours, Professor' he'd be on his feet so quickly you'd have to stop him for tumbling over himself.

- That night, and every moment after, his office becomes his favourite place to be close to you. He takes so much joy in bending you over his desk and flipping up the skirt he's spent all lecture admiring. He makes sure to sink to his knees and run his tongue over your slit until he can feel your arousal dripping down his chin, wanting to treat you the way only an older man will, a tinge of insecurity running through him when he sees you talk to any of the idiot boys your own age around campus. When he starts slamming into you from behind he'll insist you call him professor, a swift palm slapping your ass if his first name leaves your lips. Sometimes he'll have you sit straddling his lap in his expensive leather armchair, instructing you to ride his thigh until he can see a glistening trail forming across his corduroy slacks, feeling both powerful and completely under your control.

- As much as he pretends there isn't something so fucking hot about being in a position of authority over you, when you come into his office asking for extra credit, you can guarantee he won't exactly have you writing an essay for him. Instead he'll take something else he wants from you, tossing all the papers off his desk and lifting you onto it, pulling off your clothes deliberately slowly so he can graze you with a dozen teasing touches before he instructs you to lie back and stay still for him. Still fully dressed he slides open a desk drawer, pulling out a small vibrator you're pretty sure he stole from your dorm room.

"Given you're already a star pupil, you're going to have to be really good for me to get some extra credit love."

"I'll do anything you want, Professor." Your voice quivers as he runs a finger slowly up your inner thigh, watching your chest rise and fall in response.

"I'll give you ten percent on the assignment for everytime you come for me." Before you can negotiate the details his fingers are rubbing over your clit ever so gently, and your body seems more than ready to give him anything he asks for. It takes almost all night, the first two coming quickly as he works his fingers over your entrance, only slipping his fingers inside for number three when your legs start twitching and trembling with every slight change in his movement.

"You're doing so well, gorgeous, already 30% through your extra credit assignment. But we've still got a long way to go." You can see the mischievous glint in his eye and swallow hard, already starting to feel overwhelmed by the way he expertly manipulates your body. Soon his tongue is nestled between your legs while his fingertips tweak your nipples, the extra sensation quickly driving you to the 50% point, starting to feel a bit unsure of how much more of this your overstimulated body can take. As you try and catch your breath, coming down from your latest high, you suddenly hear the buzz of vibrations as Steven slides the small device over your slick entrance, even the softest setting feeling overwhelming when you're already so wet and sensitive. You feel Steven start using his considerable strength to keep your hips pressed firmly against his desk, no respite or escape as the pressure inside you starts to climb again. Tears prick in the corner of your eyes as you start think there's no way you can come again, and you whimper out his name so softly you almost don't think he hears you, until you feel the intensity between your legs shift up a gear, making your whole body spasm in blissful agony.

"Now now, good girls don't call their professors by their first name. You're going to have to be more careful or I'll have to start counting again from zero." You can tell from his grin that he'd do it, finding unparalleled joy in forcing orgasm after orgasm out of you and watching you struggle to hold yourself together as you leak more and more across his desk and flinch at even the gentlest touch. You bite back your tongue as he works to make you cum twice more, finally pleading with him to give you a break, to let you take 80% on the assignment.

"Come on sweetheart, you're so close to full marks, I know you can give me just a couple more. You're doing so well for me. I just want to feel how good I've made you feel." You hear him unbuckle his belt as he coos softly at you, waiting for you to tentatively nod your head before his whole body is onto top of you, keeping you exactly where he wants you as slams into you with no mercy until finally you give him everything he wants and more.

- Luckily you have a chance to get him back a couple of weeks later, when your makeout session gets cut short by another student coming in to ask a genuine question. Steven doesn't think twice about the way you hide under his desk to give him some privacy, that is until he realises his trousers are still undone and you're planning on taking full advantage of that. He keeps his eyes trained on the student in front of him as he feels your tongue lap as his tip, his fingers digging into the arms of his chair in a desperate attempt to remain composed. He manages okay as you run your tongue over the length of him, but when you give him no warning and slide him between your lips straight to the back of your throat he has to stifle an uncontrollable groan and awkwardly blame it on a stomach ache. His hips start twitching in his seat as you suck him as hard and fast as you can without making a sound, and as you start to feel his stomach muscles tense under your touch you notice Steven shooting you a startled look whenever he thinks he can. You don't pay him any notice, choking him back and running your hands over his lap and stomach until you watch his eyes clench shut and feel the taste of him spilling over your tongue, impressed by how quickly he blames his reaction on the fact that he must be coming down with something. When finally the student leaves and you two are alone once again, Steven sinks to his knees with the biggest smile on his face, telling you 'Just how brilliant you are, even if you will absolutely be the death of him.'

- With his own student days being far more tame and isolated than he would have liked, Steven feels like he's making up for lost time in the sweetest way when he sneaks into your dorm room for the night, or finds some weak excuse to attend a student party just so he can spend the night somewhere fun with you. He'll find excuses to bring you to the events in his calendar too, saying he's making a tradition of bringing his best students to events, even if it's always just you held tight by his side in a dress he genuinely forgets how to breathe around when he first sees you.

- While he may have a huge professor kink thanks to you, and gain some thrill in sneaking around with his reputation on the line, he also can't help but daydream about a time after your graduation when the two of you won't have to sneak any more and he'll be free to walk hand in hand with you everywhere to two of you want to go.

[babymochibeargyu]

5 Stages of Gyu

POV:roommate bff Gyu gets jealous when you tell him that you were gonna go on a date

genre:fluff

wc:~2.18k

It was one of those usual nights. You and Gyu just chilling in the living room while he practices guitar. 

You didn’t know how to bring it up to your best friend because you never needed to.

You’ve never had luck after Gyu came into your life. Before Gyu, you would occasionally have guys coming up to you confessing their love to you. Even though you did not know of their existence before, you found was hilarious. ‘Why would someone who doesn’t even know me wanna be with me’

But after you met your best friend Gyu(in high school) things changed. You got fewer confessions throughout the years until you guys graduated.

Well now you both are in college and you want to try new things. Go on dates, eat good food, go for walks. Things that couples usually do. The only problem was that you found no one attractive in your class. That was why you went to the last resort of downloading a dating app. 

You end up finding a match and y’all seem to hit it off. So you are scheduled for a date on Sunday which was in 2 days. Now the problem was, how were you gonna tell Gyu?

Usually on the weekends y’all would stay in, play some video games, and watch some shows on the couch. It would be chill. 

But now you were kind of scared because after y’all moved in together, it seemed that y’all were attached to the hip. Even at school, your friends will never see you alone, Gyu would somehow appear by your side. 

You take deep breaths and decide to just rip the bandaid.

“I have a date on Sunday. So I won’t be able to hang out with you then.” 

Silence. 

Stage 1:Denial 

When Gyu heard that, he stopped playing the guitar. He looked up at you, with his hand over his mouth(top left pic). Wondering whether he heard you right. 

“What’s with the sudden date? Isn’t spending time with me at home good enough?” Gyu said in response. 

“It’s just that we’re now in college and we’re old enough to have our own lives. I want to go on dates, holding hands while walking in the park, looking at stars in the sky.” 

“If you hadn’t noticed, I haven’t been on a single date ever since high school, where I first met you,” you said. 

Stage 2: Anger 

Gyu cocked his head staring dead straight at you(top middle pic) after hearing you say that. What were you implying? Because of him? You couldn’t get a date? 

To be fair you were right in suspecting something. In high school, whenever Gyu overheard someone’s plans on asking you out, he would confront them and tell them you’re not available…

But of course, he wasn’t going to tell you that. So he had to act like he was mad instead, even though he was the reason. 

Stage 3: Bargaining 

“It’s not like I’ll be gone forever Gyu. I’ll still be coming home after the date. So stop being angry at me.”

It was a minute of silence before Gyu said something you did not expect. 

“Cancel, go on the date with me instead,” Gyu said while looking into your eyes. You were expecting some other response, not this. 

And it’s not that you’ve never seen his eyes like this before. The eyes of someone that was in love, endearment. You’ve seen him with those eyes occasionally whenever you hang out, but you didn’t think much of it. 

But after what he just said, you couldn’t pass it off as a joke anymore. Maybe Gyu was being serious.

Stage 4:Depression(more like anxiety for this one-shot)

It’s been a few minutes since Gyu said what he said. And you still hadn’t reply him. Sitting at the table, opposite of him, still recovering from his words. He cups his hands on his neck from the anxiety he is feeling. He was in so much regret. 

Was he coming off too strong? Are you going to move out now? Are you guys not best friends anymore? Did he ruin it? So many things were running through his mind, that he didn’t know what to do anymore. 

When you came back from your thoughts, you saw that Gyu’s face was getting pale. Did not replying to him immediately affect him so much? 

“Gyu are you okay, you look pale right now.” You asked in concern for your best friend. Gyu loved it though, seeing you worry for him and only him. He was wishing you could get the hint that he likes you already so that he wouldn’t have to say it out(he was too embarrassed to even admit his feelings.)

He then leans forward putting his hand to the side of his face and cupping his chin, trying to act like he is all good(middle photo).

“Yeah yeah I’m good.” please that wasn’t even going to convince you at all. You were best friends for how many years? You could always see through Gyu when he lies. 

Stage 5:Acceptance

“Come on tell me what is going on. And why would you joke and ask me to cancel my date and go with you instead?” 

“Are you asking because you really don’t know or you just want to hear me say it,” Gyu said with a smirk on his face(it was all a facade at this point. He was scared shitless of how you were going to respond.)

“ I mean I kind of caught on from your staring from the past times, which I ignored if not we won’t be here today Gyu. Your eyes are the window to your soul, you don’t even try to hide it.”

“Fine Y/N, you caught me. I’ll just say it since you want to hear it from my mouth.”Gyu gave up in the realization that if he didn’t admit what he felt for you, you might be gone forever from his life(if the date goes well)and he would have regretted it so much more. 

He didn’t want you to leave his life. From the moment he laid eyes on you, he knew that you were his person. And nothing was going to stand in his way. He made sure of it. What more does he have to lose anyway, since losing you forever will be the last of his humanity? 

“I like you Y/N. Yes, I know we are best friends and that may be a taboo for you but, ever since I’ve laid eyes on you in high school when we first met, no one else and I mean no one caught my eye. You were the only person I could see all these years. Everything about you just kept me sane and going. Honestly, without you, I don’t even think I would be here today.” 

“You’re my rock and my anchor. You make me want to do better, be better for you. I have to admit that you were partly right about not having any dates after I met you. It was my fault. I couldn’t see anyone but me beside you. I know it was wrong for me to do that. But I like you too much to even let another man stand beside you.”

“You may now even hate me after I told you the truth and I could’ve not said anything. But I realized that if I wasn’t fully honest with you, then I wouldn’t even be worthy to be in your life anymore. Yes, it was years ago and I was childish, so I apologize for my younger self's behavior. But if even after this, you feel that the guy that you have a blind date with is the one that you should be with, I’m not stopping you.”

“It’s your life and you should be able to choose who is in it.” 

You felt tears dripping down your face. In all the times you were friends with Gyu, this is the most honest he has been with you. Talkative yes(usually he spouts nonsense), but this was another level. You didn’t think that he had so much going on in his head, and most of them were about you. I mean yes you were angry about finding out that he was the actual reason why confessions in high school were non-existent, but you could understand why he did it. 

I mean Gyu is the full package. He could have anyone he wanted. But here he was in front of you. Telling you that you were the person he has always wanted and always needed. Not that you didn’t like him the same way. You did. Just that you didn’t show it to him. 

The times y'all would bicker and fight(when you were in high school) ended with you sleeping over (in Gyu’s terms to make it up to you.) Yall would sleep on the floor during these sleepovers. And Gyu thinking you were asleep, would usually take his blanket and cover you up so that you wouldn’t feel cold. But you always were aware that he did these things for you. 

Always watching you, making sure you were okay. These tiny details that he thought you wouldn’t notice/realize but well you did. And that’s what made you fall in love with him without him realizing it.

He didn’t know this but you were as in love with him as he was with you. 

Coming back from your train of thought, you did it again. His face was once again pale after having you not responding. 

“Ah, Gyu I’m sorry you must have been afraid since I wasn’t responding. I was trying to process everything and in the process made you feel anxious instead. Well, so my reply is that now that I know the truth of what you did, of course I’m mad but it was younger Gyu and not the Gyu now. You apologized and I forgive you. The reason why I only decided to go on a blind date was because I didn’t find anyone attractive in class and I wanted to experience what a date would be like. But after hearing your confession, I feel that it isn’t right for me to go out with another man when I have a perfectly fine man right in front of me.” 

“And I’m not saying all these just because I just found out that you liked me and in turn, it’s just a way of reciprocating your feelings. But I’m doing this because, I guess you wouldn’t have noticed because I hide my feelings well, but I like you too Gyu.”

Now it was Gyu’s turn to turn quiet. You like him? How did he not catch on? That’s insanity. Oh, you were good because he had no clue about that. 

“You know all those times when we had sleepovers and you would cover me with your blanket even though we fought, I know Gyu, I wasn’t asleep, I was just faking it. How could I fall asleep immediately and act like nothing happened when we just fought? My heart couldn’t settle yet. But you always made sure I was well taken care of. ” 

“And the way you treat others even though you do not expect anything in return, your heart is so big Gyu. That’s one thing I love about you. Your kindness has no limits. No matter who it was me or your friends who were feeling down, you would always try to lift the mood and make us feel happy. Even though we’ve never asked you to, you always did it out of your own accord.” 

“The way you said how you wanted to be better for me. Gyu you don’t even see it but you’re the most perfect human in my world. There is no one else I could ask for to make my life perfect because you’re everything I could’ve ever asked and wished for.” 

“I’m happy that I met you when I met you. Because if I didn’t, I don’t know how I’d turn out to be either Gyu. I guess meeting you was a blessing in disguise. You’re my best friend, and I wouldn’t do anything to hurt you. You’re too precious for that. If anything I’ll fight those who would even try to come and hurt you. You’re my little baby.” gyu was in tears at this point. He was so touched by what you said, this was the first time that you guys had a heart-to-heart talk about each other. But when you called him your little baby he couldn’t help but blush. That was so darn cute he thought. 

“So with that said…”

“Wait let me say it.” Gyu cuts you off.

“Go and cancel your date and delete that dating app now. We’re going on the date tomorrow.”

“Of course Gyu, I would love to go on the date with you.” You answered while laughing, this wasn’t the way you thought he would continue the sentence. But it’ll do. You love him so much that anything he did was acceptable. 

masterlist

Pls i would just cry if someone ever confesses to me like that😭i can’t believe i even wrote all this with 0 experience🥹+ the only man i want is Gyu fr😭

But anyways hope you guys liked this!! Pls give it a like if u did and a follow if u wanna know when i post a new one hehe see u in the next one 🥹🫶🏻also dont be shy too interact okies!! I love interacting w yall🤍

taglist- @moagyuu @heyanonymous123 @yelshin

© babymochibeargyu - all rights reserved. please do not copy/repost/translate

[colourstreakgryffin]

Hi, hello

Would I be able to request an Upper Moon demon Obanai x Reader, where Reader is a hashira? (Obanai lives rent free in my head)

If not, that's fine too

Have a great day/night and make sure to take care of yourself!!

Hmmm! I’ve actually wanted to write Upper Moon Obanai for a long time but had no actual idea for it so thanks for the idea, my dear! Have a wonderful day, hope a fellow Obanai simp likes it!

Forgot to mention! Not my art, not my art! Please give credit to original artist. If anybody knows their name, please give it over so I can shout them out. Please, please. Thank you!

Upper Moon! Obanai- Serpents and Arachnids

You’ve always felt like there was one than one pair of eyes watching you. That there is always something slithering around you. At the night, everytime you’re on a mission whilst the stalking eyes are never around during the morning. Every night, you always wield your Nichirin katana and prepare for any chance a demon will jump you. You suspect that odd feeling of something watching you is directly from a demon’s hand

It wasn’t just any demon. The Upper Moon 3 himself, Mamushi. He had spotted you during one mission of your own upon being tasked to take care of the nearest Hashira, you’re that Hashira. His enemy and the one his Master tasked him with disposing off but yet… he couldn’t stop looking at you and he couldn’t bring himself to do anything harsh to you

You’re so beautiful, you’re so strong and you’re so opposing. He loves that in his little victims but he isn’t going to eat you, he is going to watch you throughout every mission in a almost protective manner by sending his loyal snowy white beastly serpents to follow you around everywhere, seeing through their eyes

The Arachnid Hashira, the Upper Moon 3 loves the Demon Slayer Corps’ Arachnid Hashira so much that he can’t stand letting them being able to leave his sight. He is very smitten and enamoured with you to the point it’s so unhealthy and you possess his mind 24/7. Yes, he doesn’t even know your name but none of that matters to him. He wants you… and he’ll do whatever he must to have you, human or not, Mamushi always gets what he wants. He’s the Upper Moon 3, who would ever have the gut to try refuse him? Unless they want him to rip every opponent in his path piece from piece

After a few silent minutes of treading through the dark misty forest with your katana bared, you heard it… that familiar snake-like hissing by your feet. Immediately preparing for any chance you may need to defend yourself, the hissing dies down as the odd echoey noises seem to disappear into thin air. It makes your spine shiver but you continue on, you need to find that demon you’ve been tasked with handling

A powerful demon attacking and mutilating a nearby village for whatever reason. To the Corps, it’s clearly for hunger but on the demon’s end, on Mamushi’s end, it’s to attract his little Arachnid Royal

The second you spot a big round pool of bright red blood, you rush over to it and then recognise the disgusting smell of a deceased human body and see many drips of red blood in a trail. The stalking snake is always following you, silent and climbing through the trees to let the Upper Moon 3 constantly keep his eyes on you as you follow his trap. His blood trail trick, you’re coming to him unknowingly and it’s perfect

Mamushi, from within the shadows, knocks you out when you finally reach the end of the trail with your katana flared. His signature blood red-eyed double-headed beast of a snake catching you before you can fall onto the floor when the Upper Moon chops at your neck, hitting a sensitive part of the flesh. He won’t let you see him… not yet, he needs to make sure you’re inside his basement and tied up before he reveals himself

He cannot wait to see you up in close…

“Have a good sleep, my precious little Tarantula~”

[turbulentscrawl]

hii could i req ithaqua nsfw hcs?

Also I love ur writing!! Keeping the idv community well fed 💕 its getting harder finding anything new for idv so i hope you have been faring well

I'm glad you like it!! I'm getting by! Work has been extra hectic with the busy season approaching...energy drinks are my best friend. Anyway here's the bastard <3

-He’s a bit of a fiend in the bedroom. That is, he’s never had a partner to be intimate with before, and never placed much stock in physical pleasure…until he got a taste of it. Then he becomes just about addicted to it; his libido skyrockets. I’m talking several days of the week, several rounds at a time. He’s almost always horny after winning a match, too, when the adrenalin is still pumping.

-First of all, he’s a dom. There’s just no arguing it. Even if you think you’ve convinced him to let you be in charge? No you haven’t. He’s not capable of restraining himself for an entire session like that. The second he thinks you look tired, or you’re going too slow, or you challenge him, or whatever excuse he has, he’s ripping control back from you.

-I prefer not to say anything specific about dick sizes, but I do personally think his would be slim-but-long. Not amazing girth, but great reach. If a stretch is what really gets you going, he’s got no problem shoving a few (or all) of his fingers inside you at the same time.

-He’s not patient enough for restraints most of the time, but he likes to pin you in submissive positions. However, the added height from his stilts make him seem bigger and stronger than he is. Holding you up for long periods is especially difficult for him without the right kind of bracing, so he favors keeping you beneath him in difficult-to-escape positions like a mating press or arm-lock.

-Ithaqua’s secret fantasy is to fuck you in front of everyone at the dining table. He won’t, not ever, because he doesn’t even like the other manor inhabitants even glancing in your direction, let alone oogling your perfect body. But the most dark and possessive part of him wants everyone to see him claiming you, marking you, to know you’re HIS. But again, that’s not happening, so he settles for seducing you in semi-public places where he knows people can hear you calling his name. If you’re a survivor you can’t enter one another’s manors, so this means most of your sex occurs outdoors, either in the gardens or on one of the unused maps. He also brags about your bedroom endeavors to anyone he thinks might be attracted to you, rubs it in their face that you love how he fucks you.

-He doesn’t moan much until he’s close to finishing. The rest of the time he’s running his mouth, cursing, praising you, degrading you, whatever gets you the most worked up. He wants you to completely unravel on his dick and he’s incapable of shutting up until you’re incapable of forming words.

-Expect to be left with plenty of markings. He doesn’t care if you have some bruises, you’ll live and they go away the next day anyway. (Which means he gets to make them again ahaha.) He’s not much of a biter or scratcher, though. Just very grabby and hair-pull-y.

-Perhaps surprising, but he’s very good at aftercare. Ithaqua doesn’t tire from physical activity, for whatever reason, so even if you’re tuckered out he’s still up and about. He enjoys taking baths together after sex, and he’ll even do all the work of washing you so you can relax. If you’re dozing off and he’s able to take you to bed, he gets you all tucked in with water and a snack nearby. (If you’re a survivior, he carries you back to the manor, at least.) He won’t stick around to cuddle for more than a few minutes, though, because he has to do his laps around the manor and make sure everyone knows he just railed you. He’s ridiculous. (It’s a little embarrassing, but rest assured the others are quite used to it. They don’t think less of you or anything.)

[theautotrophic]

Radiostatic concept:

Alastor has a hard time expressing his true emotions, he's too emotionally constipated to even tell Vox he finds him attractive without it feeling awkward and forced. Vox starts to get worried that Alastor doesn't actually care about him the same way he cares about Alastor. But he never brings it up because he's just as emotionally constipated, just in different ways. Then one day Alastor starts sending him letter after letter in the mail, all raving about his beauty and how much he cares for him and that he's the most important person in Alastor's life. He writes the most beautiful love letters and poems Vox has ever seen in his afterlife, waxing poetic about everything he loves about him, all his flaws and imperfections, all the things about him that drive him absolutely insane, both good and bad, everything, absolutely pouring his heart out. They make Vox feel more loved than he ever has before. Alastor always sends them through the mail (even if/when they ever live together) to be proper about it and so they always take some time to arrive. A few days after their fight, when their friendship/relationship breaks off for good, he gets one last letter in the mail.

He stares at it for who knows how long, unopened. He's so angry. He wants to rip the letter to shreds, to take every once of rage, heartbreak, and sorrow out on the unsuspecting envelope. He tries for hours to force himself to do anything to it, to tear it, burn it, just crumple it up and throw it into oncoming traffic, but he can't. He eventually relents - opens the letter - pinpricks of frustrated tears gather in his eyes. He reads it all the way through, then again and again and again until he's memorized every word, until he's basically just torturing himself. The worst part, it's completely the same as every other letter Alastor has sent him. Everything he's already told him, good and bad. Only everything he already knew. There's nothing here that could have saved them. He has no force of the universe to blame that the letter hadn't arrived just a few days earlier. Only theirselves. Only himself.

Eventually, he finally, carefully folds the letter back up, he can't bring himself to be anything but gentle with it, and stores it away. He has kept every single letter Alastor has ever sent him. He used to go through his favorites and reread them whenever he was missing Alastor, mad at Alastor, or - hell - even just when he was having a bad day. They made him smile, made him feel giddy and light, like a girl texting her crush.

He hasn't looked back or reread any of them since that day.

But he still has them.

Every single one.

Even that last one Alastor ever sent. He tells himself that he can throw them all out whenever he wants, but really, he knows he'll never be able to actually bring himself to get rid of them.

[whalesforhands]

digest your feelings pt.10

previous masterlist next

warnings: fluff, a bit angsty

Years have gone by. Years that pass, that float, that run, that leave you behind. Years in which everyone has grown, for the better or for worse, changed and yet you remained the same. Seemingly stuck in an endless cycle, never knowing when you can break your curse.

Left behind.

Each day, each hour, each second trapped in there made your heart grow heavier and heavier, slowly burning, fizzling your last hopes out. Transparent regret wafts through the air as whirling teardrops get accustomed to the blaring sound of the growing wind.

Abandoned.

You died believing you were unremembered. A blotted out name in the minds of which you adored the most. Gone, and never to be recalled, never to be dragged out from the confines of this swirling darkness.

You can’t hate it, can’t cry out. Only continue to breathe.

It was that little boy who made you believe in— Whatever there was left of you.

So lonely, so discontent with the world around him, so quick to shut himself off before anyone gets too close. So bruised and battered from the scuffles he gets himself into despite your disapproval and disappointment.

Yet, still clawing so desperately at glimmers of hope to be saved all this time. There was a belief in chance, in the glitters of having a saviour who would take the pain away.

Perhaps that’s why your soul was so attracted to his in the first place, always so drawn towards those who needed help, so self-sacrificing in search of a kinder world.

Your naivety needs to be popped.

Kind— Soft, weak, fragile, inadequate, substandard, imperfect and overall lacking. All that you could ever see in yourself, all that you ever knew about your own.

Would you ever amount to more?

If you could change yourself, you would. Forget the true shape of your soul, reform yourself entirely. Be less dull, show less gaps in that facade of trying to be strong.

How much time will pass until you reach those inner dreams? If— If you move slower until you stop, would that be okay?

Acknowledging yourself, doubting yourself. You wanted it, wanted to be better just to be able to muster enough courage for it. You— Wanted to be there too.

You want to live.

Two flowers that bloomed in spring fell in love, balmy, ambrosial and stretching, reaching towards the sunlight together.

A lone summer bud looks towards them, from the shrouding darkness, stretches towards the light in which they bathed in, unblossomed and the smell of gunpowder.

Never reaching, never touching.

——

The spear has been long ripped out of you, Suguru’s jacket tied tight around the wound, a hand pressing down to constantly apply pressure as the other was under your legs, doing his utmost best to keep the blood flow to your heart and brain.

You need to live.

Even as your body rots, crumbles from your fading consciousness. The decomposition of your skin starting to show once more as your soul starts to fade away for real this time.

It’s his fault. Geto Suguru wants to die, to choke himself and suffer and give his everything to you.

“I don’t blame you.”

Of course you don’t. Of course you never will.

Even as the cold, unforgiving rain pelts down onto your icy skin, you will never find it in your heart to make him the antagonist, the villain.

For once, Geto Suguru realizes how stupid your mentality is.

——

Your eyes blink open at the scent of cigarette smoke and pomegranate sweetness, mixed with the mild, yet overwhelming stench of sour formaldehyde.

Familiar, yet so foreign. Your body aches as you shift about on the mortuary lifter, eyes heavy and tired, arms akin to dumbbells that were filled with sand and burdens, your joints popping as you start to sit up, your skin brushing against the slightly scratchy material of the hospital gown, feeling over the thin fabric to feel jagged, bumped up skin, your back healed and scarred over.

You live. And you only have one person to thank for that.

“Shoko…” Your eyes avert momentarily as the nostalgia floods in, the colour of her go-to brand of cigarettes having rebranded. You say it out of old, die-hard habit.

“Smoking’s bad for you.” It’s with that sentence that causes her to freeze in place, the lit cigarette in her mouth falling to the floor, hitting against tiled floor of the morgue.

(Isn’t it funny that her dead friend says that the moment that they reunite?)

She’s holding her head as she starts to laugh, minuscule tears building in the corner of her eyes as she starts to smile, to allow the exhale of joy overtake her face.

you you you you you you you

“I missed you.” A beat passes, your eyes turning upward at the sight of her. Beautiful, pretty, gorgeous Shoko.

“It’s nice to be missed—“ By you. By your precious friend. She’s older, dons a rogue of sultriness and elegance on her lips in contrast to the graceful and daintier pink of her youth.

“I love you.” It’s awkward, for you to suddenly say something like this out of the blue. Yet, it feels like it fits right as your eyes trail her from top to bottom, the clack of her heels approaching you as you laid there, bandaged galore and sore and it is just… Too much to move.

She produces a pack of cigarettes from her doctor’s coat, and another and another. The plastic packaging of the unopened boxes crinkle in her hands, newer, perhaps just bought. She holds them out in front of you, making a show of letting you see that she’s emptied her pockets.

Before she crushes them, hurling them all towards the trash. “You don’t like it when I do it, right?” Breathy, unrefined and unprepared. “I’ll stop.” Stop as long as you’re here again. As long as you keep looking at her with that sparkle of happiness, of proud innocence and tender fondness.

“So… Could you—” She takes in yet another breath. “Could you say it again?” Her eyes shift towards the fabric of your hospital gown, before they meet your shiny gaze, nearly bursting with the devotion you have in your eyes as she gets lost in the warmth, in the comfort of you.

She just wants to hear it again, to punch herself into this reality. This reality that she’s always wanted.

“I love you.” Of course you do. You always did.

“Thank you.” A pause. “I love you too.” She doesn’t part from you, shifting closer and squeezing your hand in hers as she delays herself from letting go. Does not want to let go. “We all do.”

Ieiri Shoko feels whole. In your company, from basking in utterly you.

“Welcome back.”

——

“You know,” The shifting of the fabric beneath his hand culminates in your ears in this silence, having carted you to your old bedroom that Shoko left you in to better rest. “Satoru—“ He breathes, tries to choke back the hesitance for a moment or two. “Says that I’m not a bad person. That I never will be.”

How can he even face you right now? He’s so shameless, so absurd and absolutely disgusting.

“Suguru,” Your voice is more soothing, softer than his mind had ever managed to imagine. Mellow, tolerant and so humane. “You are the kindest person I know.”

He wants to throw up.

No. He’s not. You are. You, the paragon of forgiveness and goodwill, of kaleidoscopic rays of gentle light, of the breeze that billows the dandelion seeds into the blue of spring days, of seafoam that floats, drifts even in the rage of the waves.

Of white noise that blocks out the screams of the voices.

You, whose cursed energy tastes of balsamic clouds and tainted jasmine, the taste sour, tangy on his tongue.

He would’ve recognized this taste anywhere, he would’ve known your presence blind if he hadn’t been so— Impetuous. So emotional.

(He doesn’t deserve you.)

His lip trembles, grip on your sheets so tight that his knuckles turn white, pale. You don’t want him to feel bad, don’t want to see him in this state, a bandaged hand reaches forth, before it’s so selfishly, so desperately snatched up in both of his, the size of his hands dwarfing yours, calloused palms pulling your hand forth and pressing it against his beating heart.

“I love you.” His stunning bronze-amethyst meet your own lovely eyes, his gaze full of dread and hopeless tears, full of cowering anxiety, and yet, it’s nothing but Suguru in its entirety. It’s just him.

I love you love you love you love you loveyouloveyouloveyo—

“I— I love you too…” It really is you, with how swiftly you responded, how easily it spills out as if it were instinct, a second nature. How your voice traces over every single one of those sacred words so carefully, so unforgivingly you.

Don’t you get it? No. No. You don’t get it. You don’t get it at all. Yet, you still cause a stutter in his heart, a flying, torrid wind in his stomach that refuses to settle.

Geto Suguru can see it in your eyes, even after all these years where you were ripped apart from him, from them, the hidden pain of your bubbling feelings, the way you try so hard to keep your love contained. The way your fingers tremble against his slowly increasing heart, feeling the race, the pressure that comes with.

It’s frustrating. He can’t take it.

“No— Not in that way.” He loves you so much he wants to die, he wants to strangle it out of himself and shove it down into your throat for you to finally feel, to finally understand.

You’re confused. Why? Why? Why? Whywhywhywhywhywhywhywhy—!

“Can I kiss you?” It’s quiet, unassuming and yet, absolutely livid with a fire that has been stoked for too long.

(What?)

“N-no.” You’re shaking your head and trying to pull your hand back, salty tears and hot confusion forming in your eyes as you try to avoid his gaze, avoid this before you become a homewrecker.

He feels like he’s going to break.

“W-whatever you feel for me— Satoru—!” You’re crying, starting to sob with the utter heartbreak.

You want to. But you’d hurt him, you’d hurt Satoru, you’d hurt their family—

“Satoru loves you— Loves us.” His grip unwittingly tightens, yet so gentle and soft and accommodating to you so that you won’t be hurt anymore. How can he make you see?

How can he get this point— This fact across more obvious than ever without more miscommunication?

His hand, making sure to keep your own in place, so that you won’t pull away, won’t leave. The other reaches into his pockets, as if frantically in search of something before a small, velvet box is pulled out.

W-what in the world—?

Beautiful. The ring inside is absolutely gorgeous.

There’s no way.

“It’s yours.” He’s hurriedly reaching into his shirt, pulling out his necklace to show off the matching third. “This— Satoru has the same one too.”

Their marital exchange rings. Your eyes tremble as you stare at it, at him, at the shine of the metal within the soft velvet.

“So, please.” He moves forth, his forehead pressed against your own as he whispers into the cold night, “Don’t misunderstand, don’t cry, don’t be sad anymore.” The ring is plucked off from its confines, and slipped onto your finger as you stare in shocked silence.

You— Don’t know what to feel. Love? It’s what you always feel for them.

He says it again as you begin to cry harder. “I-I’m sorry— I just— Adore you.”

I’m sorry for loving you. For making you this sad. For making you cry. I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you

“I love you.” It lacks all restraint, raw in its entirety as the words tumble towards you once again. You cry, your tears soaking into the bandaids upon your face as you feel his own start to drip onto your cheeks, mixing with your own.

——

It’s been— 24 minutes. There’s a standoff between Suguru and Shoko.

“I—home.”

“She’s— my patient— hasn’t hea—.”

“She lo—s— fine.”

“Are yo—doctor?”

“—cheating—is—“

The door is opened as they both walk in side by side. “Someone like you is lacking in shame.”

“Aha? Do I now?” Suguru has made his way past you, flashing you a sweet smile as he opens your windows wide.

Shoko crosses her arms, staring at him with a look of exasperated calm that preceded all her initial anger and worry for you.

“Try gaining a little more class—“

“Then I’ll be taking her~” He’s cutting her off as you’re practically scooped up into his arms as your helpless, confused eyes meet Shoko’s, a raised hand waving at you as she unwraps another lollipop.

“Hopeless.”

——

“Suguru.”

“Satoru.” An eye is exposed.

There’s a bit of a tense silence in the air where Gojo Satoru has halted the both of you from just above a residential area.

It’s cold.

Though, Suguru had thrown a now clean jacket over your head prior to your flight, your body being completely swallowed by the fabric.

“You look cute like that. Keep it on.”

(He knows you’ll complain about him being cold.)

The wing flaps of Suguru’s bird curse continues, as you before it disappears. Alas, you don’t expect to fall.

You’re floating midair.

(Geto is using cursed energy to lift you both up.)

“Suguruuuuuuu!!! Where’s my kiss?!” Complaints are thrown out the window when you’re suddenly pressed forward and leaning onto the— You now noticed— Much taller man, much harder bodies squishing you as Suguru’s lips meet Satoru’s own, long arms wrapping around the both of you.

“S-stop— Licking me.” Geto is smiling, red blush dusted across his cheeks as he tries to pull back from the wet embrace. Laughing as he doesn’t even wipe at the remnants of spit.

His half-blindfolded gaze holds your own.

(You don’t think he’s ever taken his attention off of you for even a second.)

“Now your turn~” His lips are puckering up and comically smushed up as they lean down towards your own.

Oh my god. Is this— Needed? Oh god you don’t feel ready— Suguru isn’t helping. Why are his eyes all upturned with that stupidly cute smirk on his face! Ahh, they’re both so dumb— Don’t put you in this position!!! Wife?! Your heart is going so fast, you can’t breathe— Is it just the air pressure up here? Gosh, just close your eyes and pucker up—

You feel a flick on your forehead instead. An arm going around your waist to pull you in closer to him as Geto lets go from behind you.

“Joking~” Your forehead throbs. “Not gonna do anything if you’re uncomfortable.” He laughs again as he gives a noncommittal shrug, letting you float there momentarily by using his cursed energy to hold you up, before your hands, fingers are intertwined with his own.

(He needs to touch you more.)

Even after all these years, it’s still him. Silly, adorable Satoru. He was never good with words, always letting his actions speak for themselves as he flies a circle around you, checking on you from head to toe before plopping his head onto your shoulder from behind.

“Papa~, I left the kids at home. Twins are sleeping!”

“Oh, did you sign Megumi’s parental slip? Tsumiki needs a bento tomorrow too. Did you get dinner ready?” Suguru’s pulled out his phone, floating midair and checking through some texts.

“Uhh—“ There’s a breath in as he takes in the smell of you over the various responsibilities his husband had just listed to him. “Does the microwave count?”

“Satoru…” Suguru’s sighing before he leans down toward you, planting a soft kiss on your forehead. As if to ease stress. “Gonna go solve a crisis. See you both for dinner okay?” He leaves with a small bonk to Satoru’s arm, hand— Touching. Infinity is off. It always has been.

“Idiot.”

“I heard that!”

“You were supposed to.” A playful stick out of his tongue and he’s gone, touch lingering on your skin. “Dinner will be ready soon!”

You’re gently pulled, your bare feet now atop Gojo’s shoes as he settles himself behind you.

You’re alone with Gojo Satoru.

“Hey.” It’s soft, as if it was a cool summer breeze flowing through your ear. “How much do you trust me?”

And it feels like the memories are coming back all over again.

“…I can’t jump off if you’re holding me so tight.”

He’s laughing, hands daringly trailing over your body as you just stare down at the sheer height you’re at.

“Did you…” You feel a pounding at your chest. “Know what Suguru said?” His hold on you is intimate, close.

His heart is beating so fast.

“I’ve tried telling you before, you know?” He has. Even tried to show you from the beginning, to the festival. You just never got it, no matter what.

“I’m—“ Sorry? Does that even answer for all those years you’ve left him? You don’t know what to say.

Silence ensues.

“You have—“ He sighs again as his nose is pressed into your neck. “A scary hold on me.” A shackle that holds him down, that makes him want to worship the very ground you walk on, that makes him want to keep you inside forever—

“Just…” You feel your insecurities creep upon you as you interrupt his train of thought. “Why me?”

He’s huffing as he walks you through a cloud, your back against his chest as his hands hold yours from his position behind you. “Liking you doesn’t require reasons.” He pauses to turn you around to face him, leaning down. “But you’re too slow to realize that, huh?”

That line slightly irritates you, yet you laugh all the same.

(He stays silent to let that melody play longer.)

“You know, I don’t regret most things.” He has no reason to. After all, “I’m the great Gojo Satoru.”

You keep quiet, feeling his finger circling your ring. Your fingers pushing into the plushness of his cheeks as you fight to overcome his sheer adorableness.

“My hwusband ish the hwottest man awlive, and he’s married to me—“ He tilts his head down slightly when he feels you kiss his jaw, closing his eyes when he feels the light pecks just under his blindfold. “The prettiest, most perfect, me.”

“I’m supposed to have no regrets.” There’s a tug, and his blindfold is gone, leaving just his pretty eyes curtained by his pretty hair.

“But you,” Hands come up to cup your face, an entire galaxy that rivalled the skies reflected him in your eyes. “Were my only one.”

(“I should’ve noticed sooner.”)

“And I don’t like having stains on my perfect record.”

The promises and visions made, the days that passed so cruelly yet so softly without you by his, by their side, the despairs and utter feeble perturbation that haunted his mind. Another chain that he never regretted tying himself to, all fades away with the rains and dark clouds that never seemed to vanish.

Like tranquility after a storm, the pale light of the sun enfolds them all. The wounds that still ache, the thirst that was never quenched. It doesn’t matter anymore.

You are back.

——

“I’m back!!!” Satoru’s kicking the balcony door open as he holds you in a bridal carry, your hands over your face in embarrassment as you try to hide away from their— Your children.

“Nuh uh. You aren’t walking with those out and about.” His cheek is rubbing vigorously against yours as he cuddles you. “Let’s put all those pretty clothes I bought you to use when we get home, okay?”

This is not okay. You’re not okay as your feet gently touch the wooden floor of the family home. There’s excited squealing, a rustle of fabric as Suguru carries a pile of clothing in his hands as the girls help him.

There’s also a sudden presence tugging at you.

He stares up at you, nose scrunched up and eyes narrowed as he grips your hand, squeezing, nails lightly sinking into your flesh. As if to confirm your presence.

“Hello,” You almost miss the way your tongue lolls his name out. “Megumi.”

You kneel down, getting onto his level as you stare into his eyes. “It’s been a while.”

previous masterlist next

Notes:

“I want Mama to sleep in my room tonight!” Nanako.

“Ehhh? No! Daddy wants her more!”

“Daddy is right, Mama has injuries and should stay with the grownups.”

“Tsumiki is a grown up!” Mimiko.

“I’m old enough to take care of her!” The said girl is immediately raising her hand up as her feet kick about excitedly on her chair.

“Papa and I are stronger and can protect her from monsters!”

“Mama shouldn’t sleep with boys! Didn’t Papa teach us to not touch the other kids at all?!”

“Darlings, that’s different—“

You feel a tug at your clothes. Megumi.

“Sleep in mine.”

nvy’s aftertalk:

originally i wanted stsg to be shirtless at one point + sexy scene in this cause i was thirsty but then i got shy

i can’t believe dyf is coming to an end soon hahah also i lied abt finishing epilogue and this at the same time i would go insane. pt.11 with more family fluff or should i focus on epilogue guys