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blackleatherjacketz · 5 months

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Not Fair

Klaus Mikaelson x Female Reader

Summary: You're there to see Elijah, but Klaus wants to play a game with you first.

Warnings: 18+ Only!, Explicit Smut, Dubious Consent, Teasing, Infidelity (Sort of), Competition, Sibling Rivalry, Typical Klaus Shenanigans, Mentions of Elijah, Neck Kissing/Biting, Ear Biting, Hair Pulling, Female Orgasm, Female Masturbation, Vaginal Fingering, Blood Sucking

Word Count: 2.4k

Nerves shook through your body after Elijah had texted you to meet him at his home, which was highly unlike him. He usually came over to your place some time after dinner, after the food you’d eaten and the wine you drank had some time to course its way through your veins and pulse into the rest of your bloodstream. The door to the address he’d given you was unlocked, another odd detail you clocked with suspicion before you entered the mansion with mild trepidation. Every detail of the estate was decorated to the nines, a true southern gem full of rich history and opulence. You knew that he had money, but this kind of money? Damn, you're in way over your head.

“Elijah?” You call out his name as you shut the door behind you, passing through the foyer into the parlor on the right to see the figure of a man looking out the window. The air around him is thick and electric, prickling at your skin the very second he turns around to face you, nearly forcing you to gasp at his strikingly beautiful features. This clearly isn’t isn’t the man you’ve come to see.

“Well, well, well, aren’t you a pretty little thing?” He coos, stepping toward you with a smug grin.

“Who are you? And where’s Elijah? I was supposed to meet him here.” Did he give you the wrong address? Was he even going to show up? Did you read the message wrong? He had told you to come in and make yourself at home, but he didn’t mention anything about a… roommate.

“I’m Klaus, Elijah’s much more charming younger brother.” The man smirks as if he knows the most amusing secret about his sibling, but decides to keep it to himself. “And I’m sure he’ll be around shortly.”

“Brother? He never told me that he had a brother.” Your eyes narrow as you take him in, trying your hardest to see the family resemblance, but still somehow falling short. His golden curls are a stark contrast to Elijah’s dark brown hair, his pouty lips and narrow face shape even further away from the rigid jawline of your… whatever Elijah is to you.

“Really?” He asks, his tone laced with intrigue and disappointment as he takes another step toward you. “And just what is the nature of your relationship with my brother, then, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“It’s ummm…” You can’t help but trail off, his magnetic gaze forcing you to trip over your words as you attempt to explain your arrangement with Elijah. How do you tell this man that you’ve been letting his brother feed off you in exchange for protection? That you’ve slowly been falling for him over the past few weeks in the process? It’s just too embarrassing. “He and I have a sort of… symbiotic relationship.”

“Symbiotic?” He smirks, getting closer still, his movements quick and fluid. “Is this symbiosis sexual?” He grazes his knuckles against your cheek, letting them curve beneath your chin as he watches your lips part with his touch. “Come on, you can tell me,” he smiles, relishing in how fast he can hear your heart beating inside your chest. He’s clearly enjoying how nervous he’s making you.

“It’s not…” you stammer, swallowing hard as he brings his face a little closer to yours, the scent of his cologne now swimming through your senses. Goddamnit, is it hot in here? Are you attracted to him? No, that can’t be it, you’re attracted to Elijah. Right? Right. How is he making you so flustered? “We haven’t gotten that far.”

“You mean to tell me he hasn’t even tasted you yet?” He tilts his head in disbelief.

“Tasted me?” Your lip starts to quiver, unsure of exactly what he means. “He’s been drinking from me every two weeks.”

“That’s not the flavor I’m referring to, love.” His eyes dart down between your legs before locking back onto yours, his hazel gaze now full of desire. “I know Elijah can be a bit of a wet blanket sometimes, but if I had the privilege of drinking from you, I’d be sure to savor every elixir your beautiful body has to offer.”

A flash of heat rushes through you as those words reach your newly reddened ears, flushing your cheeks and neck before triggering that moisture to collect between your thighs as you give yourself away without having to utter a single word.

“Or you could settle for another dull night where my brother barely touches you. Only taking what he needs to survive without a second thought about what you want.” He starts to walk around you, encircling you like a vulture would a dying animal about to fall within its grasp. “He’s too noble for his own good, that one. Trust me.” He pauses, looking down at his feet before looking back over to you. “So how does it work between you two, exactly? He gets you to drink a few glasses of his favorite red wine or whiskey, loosen you up a bit so you don’t tense up when he inevitably takes what he wants?”

“Yeah, something like that.” Your cheeks blush an even brighter shade of red as you keep your head on a swivel, training your eyes on him as he waltzes around you with that deliciously smug grin permanently painted on his face. “Is that so terrible?”

You understand there’s no way that someone like Klaus could understand what you saw in Elijah. As boring as it may seem to someone on the outside, you happen to be quite fond of Elijah’s predictability, of his dependability, of his control over his emotions. It always made you feel safe with him, somehow.

“Terrible? No!” He shakes his head dramatically, cornering your left shoulder just a little closer this time before brushing his palms over your bare arms. “I imagine he… takes you from behind in order to avoid any chance for intimacy?” Klaus’ hands graze their way down your forearms and glide across your hips, sending a shiver down your spine as the heat from his body positively radiates into yours. “At least that’s what I would do.”

Your breath hitches as he holds his body against yours, his hands burning you up from beneath the thin fabric of your dress as he presses his lips into your shoulder. You instinctively close your eyes as he kisses it again, each one longer, deeper as his mouth opens just a little bit more until he reaches the nape of your neck. The slight brush of his tongue against it is almost too much for you to bear, the forbidden nature of his delicate touch somehow warmer than Elijah’s as it stirs something deep inside you, exciting you down to the very marrow of your bone.

“Is that why you wore this dress?” He licks the skin just behind your jawline before kissing it again, his blonde stubble scratching against the rest of your neck as he nuzzles into it. “So he’d finally appreciate your body?”

“Maybe.” You barely manage to whisper, that moisture now pooling between your folds.

“He’d be a fool not to.” His fingertips reach the hem of your dress, slowly inching it up your thigh as he wraps his other arms across your chest, pulling you in even closer. He walks with you backward until his knees hit the couch, haphazardly sitting down on the middle cushion with you snug on his lap, landing right where he wants you.

“We shouldn’t...” You feign protest against the predicament he’s put you in, just in case Elijah is somewhere close enough to hear you.

“Shouldn’t what? Sit down and have a little chat? That’s all this is.” He spins his lies so effortlessly, you’re convinced that even he believes them before they leave his lips.

“Is it?” You feel his hand slide beneath your dress before snaking up your thigh, relishing in the trail of goosebumps it leaves in its wake before reaching the hem of your underwear.

“Lace knickers?” He laughs, rubbing his fingers over the intricate pattern as he feels how swollen and needy you are beneath it. He tries to downplay the physical effect you're having on him in return, but his growing arousal begins to stretch the fabric of his jeans between your cheeks, his own breath halting for just a flash of a second. “Naughty girl.”

“I just thought…” your lip trembles into a hitched staccato of breaths as you attempt to explain yourself.

“Oh, don’t be so embarrassed, love, you aren’t the first woman to get caught in between us brothers.” He smirks against your skin and slips his fingers beneath the sheer fabric between your legs, slowly spreading your puffy lips apart to reveal the evidence of his seduction. “And you certainly won’t be the last.”

What did he just say? Has he done this before? Stolen someone from Elijah right under his nose? Or was this simply payback for something else, something worse that he’d done to him in his past? Were you just some stupid little pawn in their eternal game of familial chess?

“Do you get this wet for my brother when he’s feeding off you?” He takes you out of your thoughts and back into the moment, dipping his index and forefinger between your folds to spread your juices up and down your length. “I’ll bet he doesn’t even notice.” His voice drops down an octave, his words dripping with disdain for his older sibling as he glides his fingers up against your most sensitive spot, sending sparks of pleasure into your nervous system. “Do you think about him when you touch yourself at night?”

“Klaus, I…” you whisper, unable to answer him as his breath blows the hair away from your neck, making your gasp echo against the ancient walls of the room.

“Shhh, it’s okay, love. All that’s going to change after tonight.” He purrs into your skin, moving the hair away from your neck. “Let’s play a little game, then, shall we? If I’m able to make you come, I get to drink from you tonight instead of Elijah.”

Oh my God.

“And if you can’t?” You ask, wondering if he’d had this all planned out from the very second he saw you.

“If I can’t…” He starts to rub little circles into your bud, increasing his pressure with each word as your face changes. “I won’t tell my dear brother of your little transgression against him.” He bites playfully onto the shell of your ear, tugging it back toward him as he pushes his fingers deep inside your walls.

“Oh! Okay...” Your toes curl as he delves his digits further inside you, slowly curving them up to hit that special spot before quickly pulling them out. You turn your head as he removes his touch, brows furrowed in confusion as you watch him wrap those cherry red lips around his glistening fingers. His eyes roll back into his head as he savors the flavor of your sex, humming a tune while making quite the show of sucking his fingers all the way down to his knuckles before slowly pulling them out.

“Exquisite,” he praises your essence with a grin, that devious stare of his positively sinful.

You feel as if all the air has been expelled from your lungs; your body paralyzed with shock, too vulnerable in this state to take another breath until he reaches down and continues his good work, forcing you to inhale the hot, humid air between you. For the first time since you met him, he stops talking. His fingers are quick to map out every single neuron that lies beneath the exposed layer of your skin that lubricates itself with need as he slides his fingers back in, pressing his thumb against your clit with expert precision.

His centuries on this earth had given him all the practice he needed to drive you wild beneath his grasp, each of his ministrations more hypnotic than the last, drawing out louder, more feral moans from your lips. You find your hips rocking into the rhythm of his wrist, the sound of his fingers pulsing in and out of you serving as a perfect accompaniment to your vocals, gliding over that bundle of nerves tucked deep inside as your voice finally reaches a high soprano.

“I’m beginning to think you never wanted my brother to begin with.” He teases as he brings you closer to paradise by sending wave after wave of euphoric bliss up into your core, his salacious pace unrelenting.

“That’s not fair!” You cry out, breathlessly emotional as the magnitude of your ecstasy begins to overwhelm you, tears of joy now pooling in your eyes. You’d never felt pleasure like this before, never been so attracted to someone so quickly on sight alone, but here you are, on the verge of insanity as you fall apart in his lap.

“That’s the thing about me, love. I never fight fair.” He finally sends you over the edge, your skin igniting in an inextinguishable heat that consumes every fiber of your being. Your body feels more alive than it ever has before, that rush of euphoria coursing through your spine, turning your veins into rivers of molten lava as you quake around his fingers, those tears now streaming down your face.

Your orgasm leaves you helpless against his fangs as they pierce your skin and sink into your flesh, against his fist that buries itself in your hair as he drinks that deliciously hot cocktail of bliss that rips itself through you. It warms the both of you as he feeds on what was originally meant for his brother, the remnants spilling out of the corners of his mouth and down your chest as he greedily gulps you down, moaning his satisfaction into your neck. You can barely feel the throbbing around the bite as he eventually pulls back before it’s too late, licking up every stream of crimson that escapes his lips until there’s nothing left but the sheen of his spit on your skin.

“You’re welcome,” he goads cockily, your blood painting the lower half of his face as he pulls his fingers out for good. “Elijah should be home any minute.”

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Read more KLAUS!

#niklaus mikaelson #klaus mikaelson #joseph morgan #klaus mikaelson x reader #klaus mikaelson smut #klaus mikaelson fanfic #the vampire diaries #the originals #vampires

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valkyriexo · 5 months

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How Skz would ask you to be theirs | Maknae Line Hyung Line

Han

He would take you on a karaoke date, the perfect place for him to be loud and cheerful.

Unsure of what to get you, he'd end up bringing flowers and chocolate.

He feels completely himself when he's with you.

His favorite thing is trying to make you laugh and smile.

He feels a sense of belonging when he's with you, as if he's finally found where he truly belongs.

He's attentive to your needs and desires, making sure you're staying hydrated and fed.

He beams with pride as he watches you sing in karaoke.

He'd serenade you with your favorite songs during the karaoke session, pouring his heart into each note.

He'd end up accidentally singing you a love song and confessing afterward.

He'd playfully threaten to sing even louder until you say yes.

"I- I really like you," he stammers, his cheeks flushing pink as he forgets he's holding the microphone in his hand, the warmth of his feelings overpowering his shyness. His eyes meet yours, filled with a mixture of nervousness and adoration, as he continues, "It's like all these love songs were written just for you." A sheepish smile tugs at the corners of his lips as he adds, "I'd really like if we could write our own version, about our story. The ups, the downs, and everything in between."

Felix

It wouldn't be anything he had planned.

You would be baking with him.

He'd wear a colorful apron and get you a matching one, and pretend like he didn't realize.

He'd giggle nervously as he accidentally spills flour on himself while baking with you.

Together, you'd bake heart-shaped cookies and decorate a cake.

He'd playfully steal tastes of the cookie dough as you work together

He'd lovingly brush flour off your nose and cheeks, unable to resist the chance to tease you affectionately.

He'd gaze at you with adoration as you work side by side, his heart swelling with affection at the sight of your focused expression

He'd write "Will you be mine" on the cake, trying to hide it from you as he decorates

He'd suggest taking silly photos together with the finished treats

"Your baking skills are amazing," he says, admiration evident in his voice. "You can get promoted permanently." "To what?" you reply, giggling at him. He presents you the cake, and with a warm smile, he adds, "Mine."

Seungmin

You casually mentioned you wanted to try this new mini golf place that just opened.

He had to work up the courage to ask you.

He nervously fidgets with his hands, trying to find the right moment to bring up the mini golf outing.

He quietly wrote it on a note while you both were watching a movie together because he was too shy to say it.

His heart races as he awaits your response, hoping you'll agree to go with him, though he won't show it.

He isn't the best at expressing himself.

He calls you pretty, but quietly.

He enjoys your company so much.

Despite his reservations, he's determined to make the outing special for you.

He's really bad at mini golf, but your smile makes it all worth it.

He struggles to find the right words to convey the depth of his affection for you, resorting to small gestures instead, like buying you ice cream afterward.

"We should keep going to fun places like this together," he said quietly. "You mean dating?" you reply, a playful glint in your eye. "Yes," he confirms softly, waiting for your response.

Jeongin

He really, really likes you but doesn't know how to show it.

You both decide you're going to watch a movie at your place and have a cozy night in.

He almost spoils his plan of asking you to be his through text. He ends up shutting off his phone to avoid accidentally doing so, which makes him a little late for the date since he loses track of time.

You choose to watch the movie Titanic, a classic movie that you both love.

He arrives at your place with a bag of popcorn and your favorite candy.

You cuddle up on the couch together, enjoying each other's company as you watch the movie.

He laughs at all the right moments, his infectious laughter filling the room and making you smile.

As the movie comes to an end, he hesitates for a moment before gathering the courage to confess his feelings.

However, he doesn't end up asking you to be his during the date as planned because he kind of chickens out.

He regrets it and shoots you a text at 1 am, asking if he forgot his keys in at your house.

His keys are in his hand when he walks in through the door, but he needed an excuse to see you again.

He confesses to you when he comes over to "pick up" his keys.

You listen attentively as he pours his heart out to you

"Basically what I'm trying to say is... We'd make a better couple than Jack and Rose," he says shyly, his eyes sparkling with sincerity.

#stayville #bang chan #skz #lee felix #lee know #minho #changbin #jeongin #seungmin #hyunjin #stray kids #idol #headcanon #date

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ohnococo · 9 months

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Gratitude | Chapter 3 | Kiyotaka Ijichi x F!Reader

Ijichi puts on a little show for you after admitting he's especially sensitive in some areas.

Warnings: Light dom/sub dynamics, nipple stimulation, cumming untouched, mutual masturbation, fingering, cunnilingus, cumshot, cum licking, praise kink

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

You always make sure to give Ijichi your undivided attention when he speaks: your eyes on his, nodding along, asking questions or giving feedback. When you’d started working with him the very first thing you’d noticed was how he came out of his shell when you were so focused on his words. It had surprised you at first, with his timid nature and tendency to let his nerves get to him you’d expected him to stammer his way through any conversations with you. You’d found that, barring instances where you were actively scrambling his brain with praise, he did generally seem at ease under your attentive gaze. It was nice to see, especially when he was talking about things he was passionate about.

Despite your efforts to let him know that he was always worth listening to, giving him your full attention had been exceedingly difficult ever since that night. Even now as you sat together after a meal he had so sweetly cooked for you, chatting away about a hike he was planning for once the snow cleared, you were struggling. You just couldn’t watch his lips move without thinking of him in the shower, whining and panting. You couldn’t watch his brows raise as he details the new boots he planned to treat himself to with this year’s annual bonus without thinking of how they knit together when he was so, so close. You certainly couldn’t take in that you were agreeing to go with him despite having no clue if you would even get a break from Yaga after the new year. Not when you kept looking at Ijichi and replaying the memory of him cumming without even the slightest touch to his cock.

It was incredibly hot, and it had ruled your thoughts almost every waking moment since then. His cum coating your leg, those desperate whiny breaths like his body was completely out of his control, the look on his face as his eyes rolled back and his cock pushed out spurt after spurt of cum, throbbing as it did.

“Ijichi, have you ever cum without touching your cock like that before?” You aren’t even sure the conversation had lulled enough for you to switch directions like this, but you supposed there was no real appropriate segue into it.

“Oh God…” You notice the slight tremble in his hands immediately. He definitely didn’t want you to bring it up, in fact he wanted you to forget about it entirely, but you simply can’t let him go on thinking it was anything other than the hottest thing you’d seen him do yet.

“No no,” you’d told him how much you liked it afterwards, but you were going to reiterate it again and again until he understood just how crazy it made you, “I loved it, Ijichi, I really did. It was so sexy.”

“Thank you, but…” you could tell at the time he didn’t fully believe you, but the post orgasm haze had obviously taken precedence in his mind enough to keep his body from closing in on itself like it was at this moment as you brought it back to his attention, “I know it’s silly.”

“Silly? You came just from touching me. All for me. I can’t stop thinking about it.”

He thinks on your words, turning them over in his mind, unsure of how you could feel that way about something that had made him feel so embarrassed. “Really? You mean that?”

You take his hands in yours, “Yes, it was incredible.” His shy little smile lets you know that he might be starting to believe you, so you ask your previous question again.

“Have you cum untouched like that before?” That apprehension returns, so you give him a small taste of the stern tone you were learning was so effective with him. “Be honest.”

“Well, actually, I…” He looks down, then to the side, then basically everywhere in the room but at you before continuing, “I have very sensitive nipples, so… I can cum from just touching them. Sometimes.”

And here he was, blowing your mind all over again, and doing it so casually as if he weren’t giving you information that had your panties absolutely soaked.

“Can I watch?”

His eyes look back to yours, wide with shock, “You want to see me do that?”

“There’s nothing I’d want more, Kiyotaka.”

Ijichi is so enamoured with the sight of you lying back comfortably on your pile of pillows, naked atop your bed, that he seems to completely forget the task at hand. It isn’t inherently uncomfortable, the way he was equally undressed, kneeling on the bed in front of you, but he was going to put on a show for you, so to speak, once he manages to finish staring at your body dreamily. You’re ready to begin though, so you start first to show him just how much even the thought of what he was about to do got you excited. You spread your legs, resting them on either side of him. You part your lips and slide a finger through your folds, gathering enough wetness to show him how you were glistening all for him in the dim lighting of your room. His cock jumps with interest as he swallows hard at the way you present yourself to him.

“Look how wet I am already, you’ve been driving me crazy for days.”

“I have?”

“Yes, you’re so cute, I can’t stop touching myself whenever I think about it…” you drive the point home, sliding your fingers through your wetness, teasing yourself until Ijichi found the courage to show you what he could do.

“And when your cock throbbed like that while you came?” You finally brush past your clit, hissing out a long sigh at finally giving some attention to the swollen bud after he’d been on your mind all day. “I could see it much better without my hand in the way. Will you show me again? Please?”

“If it makes you happy, of course.” He looks so earnest saying it that it has your pussy clenching, so you slide a finger in and watch his cock throb as he watches you slowly finger fuck yourself.

He takes it slow, and you’re happy to see how lovingly Ijichi touches himself as he runs his hands over his abdomen and hips, sliding them around but not too near his cock. He settles one hand on his stomach as the other moves up and across his chest, and when he moves nearer to his nipples the bead of precum forming at his tip threatens to spill. He circles his hand closer and closer to his nipples, giving equal attention to each pec, letting out little gasps and hums as he does.

By the time he’s nearly finally touching his nipples he’s red from the chest up, the new hue somehow making the beauty marks across his shoulders more pronounced, and you pull your fingers out of yourself, spreading your pussy wide so he can watch your hole clench in anticipation. It has him letting out a soft whine, punctuated by a much much louder one when his fingers finally brush past his nipple. His hips buck and his patience is spent as he brings his other hand up to attend to the other nipple as well.

You’re fast on your clit, desperately trying to catch up with him as he goes from nothing to everything all at once. He flicks his fingers over his nipples, moaning, whining, thrusting up and into nothing as he twitches and pants harder and harder with each passing second. Taking his appearance in, you’re right there along with him, he’s just too perfectly pathetic for you not to be with his mouth hanging open, drool trickling down his chin, glassy eyes focused on your pussy, and hips moving of their own accord with absolutely no discernible rhythm.

“You’re gorgeous, Kiyotaka,” he moans in response to your words and his cock throbs so hard it bounces, “you’re perfect.”

He’s trying to say your name, trying to thank you, trying to ask for more praise, but is completely unable to do anything but whine and swipe furiously against his aching nipples, chasing a high that threatens to undo him at any moment.

“My perfect sweet boy with your pretty moans and even prettier cock.”

His eyes roll back and he tries his hardest to snap out of it to stay focused on the sight of you sprawled out and working your pussy over to the sight of him, and to more importantly stay focused on your every word. You see him struggling, you’ve been able to see how he’s been struggling from soon after his hands were on his chest, but he’s trying his hardest to be good for you. To wait for your word since he hadn't that night before. You want to reward him for even taking the initiative to wait for your permission, but you’re not quite there yet and need him to wait just that little bit longer.

You can see his thighs and stomach flexing, followed by his panicked groans as it takes everything in him to hold out from the blinding feel of his sensitive nipples being abused just for you, and it’s that desperate frustrated incoherent whimper that finally sends you over the edge and allows you to pull him along with you.

“Cum with me-” The words are barely out before he’s whining and spilling, and as the pressure releases within you you try to keep your eyes on his throbbing cock, even as it shoots rope after rope of thick cum down and onto your stomach and pussy, even as your tight circles on your clit rub it right in while you cum at the sight of him.

He collapses forward, just catching himself as he throws his arms out on either side of you, on all fours as he trembles and pants through the last of his cum spurting lazily out. His head dips low as he catches his breath, the ends of his hair tickling at your chest, and you run your fingers through his hair.

“That was amazing. You did so, so good.”

He lifts his head and looks as though he could cry, and you pull him in for a kiss.

“Thank you.”

“I didn’t even do anything, that was all you, Kiyotaka.”

He takes your hand, kissing at your knuckles, before pulling back and licking his lips as he recognizes the saltiness upon them. He sits up, looking down at you and taking in the results of what he’d done. “I just keep making a mess, don’t I?”

“I love it.”

He smiles warmly, “Well, now I just have to clean you up again.” He brings your fingers to his mouth, averting his gaze as he slides his tongue over them. When he sucks two fingers in deep, cleaning himself off of you, you have to praise his initiative.

“Good boy.”

He moans around your fingers and you push them further into his mouth, smiling as he takes them happily even as you wiggle your fingertips at the back of his tongue til he’s threatening to gag.

You don’t let it get that far though, pulling your hand away and he whimpers as you interrupt his self-imposed task. Instead you run your hand over your pussy, calling his attention to the cum glistening along it, nearly indiscernible from your own mess now. “Go on, clean me up.”

Within a second, he’s in position on his stomach, propped up on his elbows and dipping his face between your thighs. He seems so confident, desperate even, and it makes your heart swell as he laps at your stomach, then your thighs, before finally turning his attention to your pussy. He’s moaning all the while, licking and sucking his cum off of you and when he takes his thumbs and gingerly spreads you he can’t stop himself from humping the bed beneath him as he finally tastes you properly. He licks fat stripes from your entrance and all the way up, smacking his lips and savouring you for just a moment before diving back in. With the attention coming so soon after your orgasm, you twitch lightly each time, but are sure to pet his hair gingerly and let out sated little coos and sighs until you push past the intensity of his work and right back into pleasure.

Once the heat begins to build in your stomach you praise him properly, moaning and giving him a single request. “Make me cum, okay? I know you can.”

Uncertainty had flashed through his eyes for just a moment, but once you said those four words, ’I know you can,’ his resolve is strengthened. He buries his face between your legs, knocking his glasses into your mound, and quickly pulls them off, tossing them haphazardly aside on your bed before he’s back to work. He’s sucking, licking, kissing your pussy and it’s all so desperate and sloppy as his drooling mouth really only makes you much messier than you’d started out, but his enthusiasm alone has you arching into him. When he sucks your clit between his puckered lips, lapping at it as he does, it hurls you close to the edge in an instant.

“Yes, so good…”

He repeats the action with a steady pace, and when he brings two fingers up to press inside of you the moan he lets out at feeling your silky warmth sends vibrations through your swollen clit. Each time you sigh and groan and clench he moans again and only gets more frenzied with his movements, desperate to make you cum just as you’d requested. He’s mapped out what you want from his fingers perfectly, studious as he is, and with the addition of his tongue you’re ready to cum in no time. You let him know you’re close, running your fingers through his hair and rocking your hips into the movements of his fingers. The last straw is the vibrations from his long whine, and as you’re cumming you know he is as well, just from the feel of your sheets and the taste of your creaming pussy as you clench around his fingers through your orgasm.

Your comedown is assisted by his slow, soft licks, first to your pussy, then your thighs when you twitch in sensitive discomfort. He tastes every bit of you he can while the opportunity is there until he’s satisfied with knowing he’d done his job. Sighing happily, he rests his head against your thigh, and the way he looks up at you is just a pure love drunk haze.

It leaves you even more breathless than your orgasm, but you find the words he’s earned. “Good boy…”

His blush can’t get any deeper, but he presses his warm face to your thigh and sighs happily again. He’s just too cute, and you have to kiss him so you open your arms, gesturing for him to come up to you. He does and you press a kiss to his forehead.

“Good boy.”

Then a kiss to both cheeks.

“Good boy.”

Then a kiss, tenderly, to his still smiling lips.

“Good boy.”

He can only drink in all of your loving praise.

CHAPTER 4

#my writing #jjk fanfic #jjk smut #ijichi #ijichi kiyotaka #kiyotaka ijichi #ijichi x reader #kiyotaka ijichi x reader #minors blocked on sight

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bonny-kookoo · 2 years

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Jungkook: Clingy 🔞 [Part 4]

In which your soup makes him cry, but he's glad you can't see it at least.

Tags/Warnings: Hybrid AU, Wolf hybrid!Jungkook, Otter hybrid!Reader, Angst, strangers to ???

Additional Chapter Warnings: Good soup 🤌, Jungkook has some serious emotional constipation, angst, wolfboy is in denial, fluff?

-> Masterlist

♥━━━━━━━━━━━♡━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

He wakes up alone in bed, and for a moment, he's unsure if he's actually awake or dreaming.

The room is dipped in an almost golden glow, body cushioned by all the different blankets and pillows in the bed he's sleeping in. There's a faint smell of food, something metallic clattering onto the floor - a piercing sound that makes his ears flick towards the origin.

He turns to see a sheepishly smiling you, clad in comfy clothing, tail tucked between your legs from what he assumes must be the shock of the loud noise. "Sorry. I didn't mean to wake you." You say, and he sits up at that, running a hand through his hair. "You looked too peaceful sleeping, and, you know, I technically still have today so.." You tell him before picking up the spoon that had fallen out of your hands.

"What time is it?" He wonders more or less to himself, moving around to grab underwear from his bag at the side of the bed, feeling an odd sense of dread and disappointment in his bones.

"Around 4 PM." You tell him, turning around to put the now washed cutlery away, while he packs his bag silently. Usually, this would be a time of finally breathing again, another job done, a new month's salary added. But somehow, he feels dread, like he's disappointed your heat had ended so quickly - even though it wasn't quick at all. You've rented him for a full week plus a buffer day if needed, and he knew that right from the start.

You didn't even rent him. If fate had played its cards differently, he wouldn't have even met you ever.

You paid for him. Nothing more and nothing less.

"So uh.." You awkwardly start as he stands in front of you a few minutes later, all dressed and ready to leave. "I really don't know how this.. uhm. Yeah." You stammer before shrugging. "Thank you? Is that what you say?"

"No problem, it's my job after all." He responds, though he spots the faint realization on your face as he says that. It's odd how it makes you look just as disappointed as he feels. "But I enjoyed it anyways."

"Uh.. thanks?" You say, cheeks red while he walks to the door. "Oh, wait!" You call out, running to get something out of your fridge. "You didn't have anything to eat yet, and you said you can't cook well.. so you can have my leftover soup from today." You tell him, giving a pink plastic container to him, one he carefully holds. "Just.. you can keep the Tupperware box, I have a lot." You tell him, and he doesn't know how to properly decline. You're a client, and he doesn't even eat soup-

"Thank you." He says, bowing politely before he leaves your apartment behind him, door closing quietly-

But he still stops in his tracks the second he hears the click of the lock, time standing still for a little while. The container in his hands is cold, biting at his skin, and only after a moment does he carefully place it somewhere in his bag where it can't cause any mishap.

Climbing into the van provided by the company, the driver greets him just like always. "How are you?" He asked, only getting a hum as a reply since Jungkook busies himself with stretching his limbs. "Damn, I picked up Tae today from a similar street. Takes me back to the times when you both were still new." The man chuckles, and Jungkook just shrugs, looking outside the window.

It's true that the scenery looks nostalgic almost, though right now, the wolf hybrid doesn't want to dwell on it any longer. He just wants to go home, sleep well, and enjoy his free time.

His apartment is cold but familiar, comforting as he lets his bag drop to the ground, typical routine starting. But when he stands in front of his shower, he hesitates- he's showered at your place already, there's no need to do it a second time. He'd almost always shower again here at his place to get any scents off of him, but he doesn't actually mind the strawberry vanilla scented bodywash still clinging to his skin.

Or was that your scent?

He's unsure, rather opting to take out the container of soup from his bag to put into the microwave, carefully keeping an eye on it in case the container isn't safe for those temperatures. Filling the contents into a bowl, he sits in front of his TV, boring drama, playing more or less as background noise if anything else as he eats the first spoonfuls of your cooking. It warms up his body, fills him with comfort, and has a soft sense of nostalgia as he watches the screen in front of him.

Until he notices his vision blurring, heavy blinking only forcing the tears to fall.

He's confused. Why is he crying right now? He doesn't even feel particularly sad at all. Nothing is wrong, he's not sick, and neither does it feel like he's allergic to anything in your cooking. There's emotions in his head that just don't make sense at all, and he hates it.

Why does he miss you?

The soup is good, great even, your cooking is absolutely perfect in that it's not perfect at all. There's no expensive spices or ingredients used, just the traditional vegetables and a bit of chicken like he remembers his aunt making whenever he got sick.

He sighs after he finishes the small meal, sitting back on his couch to just exist for a moment, head empty before it fills with you again. Would you spend your next heat with one of the lower ranking workers next time? Possibly, if you won't find a permanent partner before then. He can't imagine that being too hard for you. After all, he's pretty sure he'd choose you as a lover in a heartbeat if he was ever to be asked.

His eyes widen as he realizes what he'd just thought.

As if burned, he jumps up from the couch, taking his cutlery and bowl with him to wash everything in his sink, your pink Tupperware container included. He needs to give that back to you. He needs to return it, and he needs it out of his apartment and out of his life.

And most of all, he needs to get you out of his head.

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook imagines #hybrid imagine #hybrid au #hybrid reader #hybrid jungkook imagine

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piedpiperart · 1 year

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Phantom in Gotham 7

Chapter 6

In no time at all Danny found himself in a nightwing t-shirt with black and gray bat pajama pants, hair a bit damp, and sitting on a soft couch across from Alfred with a cup of warm cocoa in his hands. “I assume you have questions?” Alfred prompted after a moment, setting his teacup down on the matching plate on the coffee table.

“Um, yeah,”Danny stammered, looking from his cup to Alfred. He sighed,”Sorry, um. I’ve never been kidnapped by a vigilante before, so I’m not exactly sure… what to do here?”

Alfred sighed, not at Danny, but he assumed Alfred hoped the Red Hood might’ve explained a bit more before dropping him off with the man. “No need to worry, Red Hood informed me of your situation, young man. You are welcome to stay here, at the very least until the snow subsides,” Alfred informed him. “Beyond that, please make yourself at home. You may find a few familiar faces around the manor, even.”

“Who? What do you mean?” Danny asked, tilting his head and reminding Alfred of a puppy.

“You’re residing in Wayne Manor, and I am Master Bruce’s butler,”Alfred winked, and Danny’s eyes widened. “I assume you might know the many children he’s adopted from the news. Currently Masters Damian and Timothy are home, but the others may show up at a later date.”

“The Wayne Manor?” Danny repeated absently. He vaguely recalled Tucker ranting about WayneTech. “Are you sure it’s okay for me to be here? I don’t want to cause any trouble.”

“Nonsense,” Alfred waved gracefully,”You’re welcome to stay as long as you like. There are plenty of empty rooms in this place, and it’s been feeling entirely too empty since Master Jason and Dick moved out.”

“Well… if you’re sure,”Danny relented, sipping at his mug again. “Are you the only butler here? This place is huge.”

“Quite,” Alfred inclined his head,”There are a few other hired hands, but I am in charge of most things within the manor, such as mealtimes.”

“I could help?” Danny offered, perking up. Living in the Pizzeria left little time for cooking in an actual kitchen, and his core hummed at the prospect of helping the old man. “My parents weren’t great at cooking so my sister and I did most of the cooking around the house.”

Despite no one else but Jason allowed in his kitchen, Alfred’s heart warmed at the offer. “I’d enjoy some company, if you’d care to join me,”Alfred smiled, and Danny’s core hummed happily. Danny smiled back, and Alfred could only hope the boy was better than Dick had been in the kitchen. The poor boy somehow had found a way to set a bowl of cereal on fire that one time.

Before anyone could add anything else, a small boy about eleven years old walked past the room with an apple in hand. The boy in question halted in his tracks and approached the two on the couches. “Another one?” The boy scoffed, and Danny took a moment to take in the kid’s cat t-shirt and nightwing pajama pants. “Pennyworth, doesn’t Father have enough children? Where is he? I must talk sense into him.”

“Master Danny here was sent for us to look after by the Red Hood,”Alfred forewarned as Danny fidgeted on the couch,”He will be staying with us while the snow is hampering his living conditions. Master Danny, meet Master Wayne’s son, Damian,” Alfred added, turning to Danny.

“H-hi,” Danny waved awkwardly, unsure of what to say to the kid whose house he’s staying in without Damian knowing. “Nice to meet you?” Danny offered.

Damian just scoffed,”Of course. I bet Hood found him on the streets, didn’t he?”

“Hey, it’s not like I wanted to be here,”Danny shot back, exasperated,”Hood threw me over his shoulder and dragged me here. I’d leave if I could but this place is so big I don’t think I’d be able to find the door.”

Damian frowned, thinking,”You wouldn’t survive the blizzard outside even if you managed to find the door. Besides, you’re here now, might as well take advantage of the manor while you can,” Damian squinted, almost like he was testing Danny.

“I’ll have you know that I would have been perfectly fine out there,”Danny sniffed, and Damian’s eyes narrowed at him. “I’d make an igloo and burrow into it like a polar bear. So don’t worry, I’ll be out of your hair in no time.”

“Tt. Your sense of self-preservation is worrying, and I doubt your ability to make a structurally sound igloo,”The kid concluded, looking out towards the windows covered in snow.“Are you implying the snow is preferable to the manor? Why do you desire a cold death out there over warmth here?”

Danny waved his concerns off,”Your giant castle is nice, I just. I had a space to hide out in, and being kidnapped to stay here was not on my list of things to do today.”

Alfred tutted,”An abandoned building with no heat or water was not adequate housing for this sort of blizzard, young man.”

Damian ignored Danny’s mumble proclaiming that he would have been fine, and stated,”I have concluded that you may be stupid or suicidal, so I will allow you to stay here until the snow lets up, if only to not have your death on my conscience,”Damian nodded, then scowled threateningly,”If you try to leave before I or Pennyworth say so, I will make sure you stay by less than pleasant means.” He stated, then turned on his heel and left the room.

Danny made a face at that, wondering if the kid was joking or not about the ‘less than pleasant means’ that he’d go through if he tried to leave. Did they have cameras here? He wondered if he’d be able to go ghost without anyone noticing. “Do not worry,”Alfred stated, standing up gracefully. “Master Damian has a soft spot for strays, you’ll be welcome here.”

“Um… okay?”Danny said incredulously. He wasn’t even sure he wanted to be welcome here, yet his core had latched on to the frail old man like a starving cat to a tuna sandwich. He knew he’d only be able to leave once he’d made sure Alfred, and possibly Damian too, were safe during the blizzard. This day just got weirder and weirder.

“I’m sure you’re tired. If you’ll follow me, I can show you to the guest bedroom,”Alfred offered, and Danny scrambled to his feet. He wasn’t tired in the least, and he doubted he’d be able to fall asleep at all tonight given his fucked up sleep schedule and his need for less sleep than usual anyway, but he didn’t realize that Alfred was probably tired, and needed to rest for the night.

“Uh- sure, yeah,”Danny rambled, and the two made a detour to the kitchen to put away the cups before Alfred led Danny down a corridor with some decorations and nameplates attached to some of the doors.

“You’re right next to Timothy, who should be asleep as of now, but if you have any issues he will be able to help you,” Alfred informed him, opening the door to the biggest room Danny had ever seen (not including Vlad’s). “I shall leave you to retire for now, master Danny, but do try and get some sleep. Breakfast starts at 8am sharp, and is mandatory for all those residing in the house tonight.”

“Do you want any help making breakfast?” Danny offered sincerely. He’d try to go exploring in his ghost form, but he knew he’d be bored and restless most of the night as he decided not to go out patrolling. Might as well try to get an early start on the day, he figured.

“I don’t see why not,”Alfred conceded. “I usually start around 6:30, but feel free to show up whenever you wake.”

“I’ll be there,” Danny smiled brightly. It’d been so long since he’d been able to cook something with Jazz, despite his lack of appetite, he’d missed it.

“Goodnight, Master Danny,”Alfred nodded, a soft, fond smile on his face.

“G’night Alfred,”Danny waved as he left the corridor. He sighed, making his way into the room and face-planting onto the bed.

What a day, he thought.

Chapter 8

#Phantom in Gotham #dcxdp #dpxdc #danny phantom #tim drake #jason todd #Damian Wayne

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tartarusknight · 1 year

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5 times Steve had to prove he was worth love + 1 time someone just loved him without needing him to.

_1_

I've been falling much more deep Than I wanna I've been wishing I could breathe Underwater I hold my breath I can't see what comes next I don't know when I'll see dry land again

__Nancy and Jonathan__

His relationship with Nancy had been blooming. It had made him feel giddy whenever he thought about it. He had been striving to prove himself to her. That he loved her. That he wasn’t just some stupid guy working his way through the girls in Hawkins High.

But all of it was over now.

Steve had seen Nancy with Jonathan’s arm around her. He had seen a moment that he wasn’t meant to see and felt the ground crumble underneath him. Any thoughts about the kind Nancy Wheeler, the one who looked at him with adorably innocent eyes, were gone. He had stumbled down and did what he did best. Put on a fake emotion to hide what he was feeling.

The crushing hurt, the heartbreak. It all was masked under annoyance that turned into anger as Tommy and Carol stood by him. Those feelings had stuck with him until he was on the ground, Jonathan straddling him. The anger died then. Too much guilt mixed with the hurt until he was telling Tommy and Carol to fuck off in a desperate attempt to prove that he wasn’t the type of person who’d do what he just did.

He had gone home and had begged for someone, anyone, to show him how to be good. Steve had known that Tommy and Carol weren’t good, that they weren’t kind. But was he? No, no he was an asshole and he knew it. That’s why he hadn’t let himself simmer in the quiet house. It’s why he had turned on his car and driven to the Byer’s house.

He had seen the Christmas lights through the window before he knocked. “Jonathan? Are you there, man? It’s Steve! Listen I just want to talk!” He shouted through the closed door. He paused before knocking once more. Except it wasn’t Jonathan but Nancy who opened the door. “Hey, uh, Nancy?” He felt his heart drop. He had gone to Jonathan’s first because it would be simpler. Apologizing to Nancy would be harder and he wasn’t ready to see her disappointment.

“Steve, listen to me, you need to leave.” She ordered, her voice not leaving any room for arguments but Steve needed to fight this.

He put his hand up, “no, no, I’m not here to start anything, okay?”

She rolled her eyes, “I don’t care about that.” And she looked completely annoyed. It made Steve want to crawl into a hole and die if he was honest. “You need to leave, right now.”

“No, no, no, I- I- I messed up, okay? I messed up.” He said, unsure of what to say to her. Of how to start the conversation. “Really, please, I just want to make things right.” His voice quieted and her eyes softened, leaving only worry behind.

But that made him worry. Because why was she worried? Then he saw her hand and everything became worse. “Wh- Hey, what happened to your hand?” His voice went so soft that it surprised him. He reached out to touch her but she pulled away. “Is that blood?”

“Nothing, it was an accident.” She stammered and he could see the lie in her face.

And it didn’t matter if she didn’t like him how he liked her. He could still be there for her. “What’s going on?” He asked, desperately hoping she’d let him in.

But her face went stony, “nothing.”

As she glanced back into the house his worries grew. He remembered hearing about how Lonnie Byers was a violent man. How he never treated those he loved well but how Lonnie was still seen as a good person. Steve had never understood and now, standing here he wondered if Jonathan was the same way. Steve already knew he packed a mean punch. “Wait a sec. Did he do this to you?”

Her eyes grew wide and worried, “no.” It was sharper this time and Steve thought understood what she was worried about.

“Nancy, let me in!” He pushed his way through and froze at the sight of everything around him. “What is… what the f-” he murmured as he noticed Christmas lights around everything. A baseball bat with nails hammered into it.

Jonathan moved fast and shoved at him. “You need to get out of here.” Jonathan’s voice was dark and he pushed Steve towards the door. But it only made Steve’s eyes catch on the matching bandage. “Listen to me. I’m not asking you, I’m telling you, get out of here!”

“What is this? What is that smell?” He was starting to panic and as he glanced around. “Is that- is that gasoline?”

As he struggles against Jonathan he glances at Nancy. “Steve,” she snaps and he hears the cock of a gun as she points a pistol at him. “Get out!”

Jonathan backs off of him to get out of the line of fire and Steve’s unsure of everything now. “What? What is going on!”

Nancy doesn’t look completely confident but that isn’t comforting. “You have five seconds to get out of here.” She snaps and he waves his hands frantically around himself.

“Okay, is this a joke? Stop. Put the gun down.” He tries and the lights flair to life around them.

“I’m doing this for you,” she says and actually looks guilty about it all. Like she wasn’t aiming a gun at him.

Jonathan’s trying to get her attention as he tries to get a sense of what was happening. Nancy counting down like she’s ready to shoot him if he doesn’t leave. “Nancy! The lights!” Jonathan shouts and it’s the first time Steve’s heard him yell. “It’s here,” Jonathan stumbles to the nail bat.

“Wait, what’s here?” He questions but they don’t pay him any attention. They are watching the walls like something was going to jump out at them. “Hello? Will someone please explain to me what the hell is going-”

He’s cut off by the ceiling caving in. Not just caving in. But it’s like something was breaking through. A white creature that Nancy aims and shoots at quickly. It steals Steve’s breath away and he’s sure he’s about to die. He vaguely watches Jonathan pull Nancy back just as the creature hits the ground, snarling at them. “Get out of here!” Jonathan grabs his hand and pulls him along. “Jump!” Jonathan warns and Steve barely sees the bear trap in time. He just runs after the other two listening to the creature roar behind him.

But the silence was worse. It made his panic bubble and explode because there was a monster that broke through the ceiling. Except now the ceiling was fixed and he’s wondering if accidentally smoked some back weed. And as Nancy snaps at him to just leave, he listens. He stumbles out to the car and drops his keys in his panic.

Then his door is open and he’s looking back at the house. God, he just wanted to apologize. He didn’t need this shit. But then the lights are flickering. He thinks of Nancy’s worry and how they were determined to fight this thing. “Jonathan!” Maybe he’s an asshole but he can’t let them face it alone. He runs back in at the sound of gunfire and snarling. Seeing Jonathan on the ground, the nail bat just a few feet from him. Nancy back away from the creature that was moving towards her.

He doesn’t know if Jonathan’s hurt but right now, Nancy’s okay and he’ll keep it that way. Steve picks up the bat and jumps between Nancy and the creature as Nancy’s gun clicks again and again. He smacks it hard and moves to keep it away from the other two. He knew they needed it in the bear trap. So, he was determined to force it into the bear trap. Swing, move, dodge. The thing's long arms almost hit him as he has to get in close to hit the damn thing.

It feels like a life time until he hears the clang of the metal and watches it falter from the bite of the bear trap. “He’s in the trap! He’s stuck!” He shouts.

Nancy moved next to him, “Jonathan now!” She yells and Steve’s relieved to see Jonathan up and moving. He tosses his lighter onto the gasoline he had smelled and the creature went up in flames. But as Jonathan puts out the fire and the smoke clears, the creature is gone.

Steve swears under his breath but then the lights are back on. He stays in front of them and but the lights stay gentle. Just a glow instead of the intense flashing and as Jonathan whispers, “mom?” Steve lets him in front. He has no clue what’s happening but Jonathan looks relaxed.

They stand there for a moment before Steve feels a hand grip his arm. He glances down at Nancy and she gives him a watery smile. She mouths ‘thank you’ and he just nods. He lets them head inside and for a moment he thinks about leaving again, but he pushes that aside. He just leans against the wall out there, letting it wash over him.

And later as they get the call about Will, he offers to drive. Jonathan packs a few things for Will before they both get into his back seat. He drives faster than normal but it’s not the biggest worry in his mind. As they get there and they stumble out, they pause. “You saved my life,” Jonathan says softly and Steve’s unsure what to say.

He swallows, “yeah, well, I figured I owed you one… and well that was a better apology than anything I could’ve said.” They looked shocked for a moment before he smiles, “go see your brother, man. You deserve it,” he grins and Jonathan nods, jogging towards the hospital.

“You’re a better man than I thought you were, Steve Harrington.” Nancy smiles and Steve blinks. “Keep going like this and I might just think you’re a good one.” She murmurs and he thinks maybe he can prove that he is good. She nods to the building and he’s about to say no when Nancy grabs his hand. “Keep proving it to me?”

Steve shuts the door to his car and locks it. “Yeah, I can do that.”

_2_

Another 40 days I'm lost at sea I'm just gonna swim until you love me Hoping that your heart will rescue me I'm just gonna swim until you love me Swim until you love me Swim, swim, swim, swim until you love me Swim, swim, swim.

__Dustin and Lucas__

Steve knows he was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. But at the same time, he was in the right place at the right time. Because as he sits in the junkyard school bus with Dustin, Lucas, and Max, he knows they’re better off because he’s here. Sure, they’re not completely safe. Sure, there are better people they could’ve gotten. And sure, he probably lost his chance with Nancy. But right now, he’s protecting these little shits with all his heart.

A painfully familiar sound cuts through the air and he’s up on his feet before he can really think about it. Looking out into the fog and feels dread in his bones. “10 o’clock! 10 o’clock!” Lucas’s voice goes up in pitch and Steve knows the kid is scared. Hell, Steve’s terrified. But he looks out and points out the monster to Dustin. For a moment he’s just glad it’s not 7 feet tall this time.

But then that little bit of relief dies because “he’s not taking the bait. Why isn’t he taking the bait?” He questions and there’s a sinking feeling in his chest.

Dustin glances at him and he looks confused too. “Maybe he’s not hungry.” He says softly and something clicks in his mind. And he knows that him just being here won’t be enough, but he has to try.

“Maybe he’s sick of cow.” He backs up from the window and it takes a second to completely hit him. But he knows what he has to do. He steels himself and heads to the door.

“Steve?” Dustin moves like he’s going to follow him but then he stops like he can’t move any further. Steve thought back to school when they taught flight or fight. The response to fear… no one ever talked about freezing up. But it happened to everyone. “Steve, what are you doing?” There’s worry in his tone but Steve knows he has to protect these goddamn kids. “Steve?”

He looks back to Dustin and pulls out his lighter, “Just get ready.” He says and tosses the lighter before he heads out the door.

He hears the door shut behind him and he feels something settle in his chest. He was helping. He was proving to these kids that he could help them. So, he whistles and calls out for the dog-looking creature as he gets up to the pile of meat. “Human taste better than cat, I promise.” He says before the fog clears just enough that can see the thing.

“Steve! Watch out!” Lucas shrieks like Steve wasn’t already completely focused on the target.

He huffs and swings the bat a little, “a little busy here.” He calls back.

But then Lucas says something that makes his entire body flood with fear. “3 o’clock! 3 o’clock!” The thing in front of him hasn’t moved. So, as he glances over and sees 2 more, his panic builds.

Dustin’s calling his name and Steve hopes he won’t get murdered in front of a bunch of middle schoolers. “Abort, abort!” Dustin yells but then the thing is growling at him.

He turns his focus back on the creatures and all at once they rush toward him. He dodges the first, rolls over the hood of a car to dodge the second, and hits the third with his bat. He takes the moment to turn and run. Everything in his body screamed at him to move faster, to be faster. They snarl behind him and all the kids are at the door waiting for him as he jumps in. Slamming it shut and holding it there with his legs. Thankful that he doesn’t skip leg day.

He puts a piece of metal in front of the door as the kids devolve into panicked chatter. It makes him think of his own freaked-out yells back at the Byers’. The whole bus rocks as they slam into it and Steve looks at these three kids. But then one is clawing through. He takes his bat to it repeatedly as the kids back up. Except then things are surrounding the bus and Steve’s not sure he has this under control.

He hears one get onto the roof followed by Max’s screams. He shoves Max out of the way as quickly as he can. Putting himself between him and the damn thing. Once again putting himself between someone and a monster. It roars and the flower petal mouth brings up all the worst memories. But then as the bus rocks one last time the things run off. He’s shaking as it gets so quiet so quickly. Then kids all stand up and look around the best they can through the slots of metal. “What happened?” Lucas asked.

“I don’t know,” Max mutters and she sounds shaken.

“Steve scared ‘em off?” Dustin offered.

Steve shook his head, “no. No way. They’re going somewhere.” He looks back at them, and they all look scared.

They all stand there for a minute and Steve lets the bat hit the ground. However, he’s surprised by Dustin barreling into him. He’s unprepared for the hug and he stands there shocked for a long moment before Dustin pulls back. “You were going to die for us.”

Steve raises an eyebrow to hide the emotions inside, “I mean I was gonna try to live.” He drawls and Dustin smiles up at him.

“The Steve Harrington was willing to die for me.” Dustin is grinning now and Steve rolls his eyes. Steve reaches out and ruffles his hair the best he could with the hat on his head. “Guess your not just a douchebag... suppose I should keep you around.”

Steve snorts, “well I am your ride. Come on, let's get moving.” He calls out and watches Lucas and Max snap out of whatever moment they were having.

_3_

I've been drowning in these sheets Feeling lonely Wishing you were here with me Every morning Over my head The tide comes rolling in I don't know when I'll see dry land again.

__Hopper, Joyce, Mike, and Max__

Steve leans against the wall on the floor of the Byers’ house. His vision is wobbly but he keeps his eyes on the unconscious form of Billy Hargrove. The kids are all around him and he’s got Dustin under one of his arms. Mike is sitting mostly by himself, eyes trained on the door. Max is on Steve’s other side, not touching but not too far away and Lucas was on her other side. All of them were exhausted but unwilling to fall asleep before they learned if they were successful today. If they won or lost.

“I’m sorry,” Max breaks the silence and Steve drags his eyes away from Billy. He looks at her but she isn’t looking at him. Her eyes on trained on her lap and he wonders if she’s talking to him or someone else. “If I hadn’t been here you wouldn’t have- Billy wouldn’t have-” she starts and Steve knows the other kids are staring.

He just reaches out and pulls her so she’s tucked under his other arm. “It’s fine. I’ve been wanting to punch him since I met him.” He grins down at her and she has a slight smile on her face.

He’s starting to struggle to stay awake but he has all the kids next to him. Well, not all. “Mike,” he says and the boy glances over. “Get over here,” he huffs and Mike blinks like he’s surprised. “Come on, over here.” He jerks his head to Dustin but it makes everything a blur. He has to freeze, his entire body tensing up. But once he’s back into his body, Mike’s on Dustin’s other side. All of them together. Steve’s hands are on Lucas and Mike’s shoulders while Dustin and Max curl up into his torso. Steve notices one by one the kids falling asleep and he’s glad. They needed it. He would love to sleep but he forces himself to keep an eye on Billy and the door.

They stay that way until the door opens and Joyce comes in. She’s holding the door as Jonathan and Nancy support Will. None of the kids move a muscle and Joyce goes quiet when she spots them. He gives her a tired smile but he doesn’t move. He doesn’t know if he could with Max and Dustin holding onto him. They disappear down the hall but Nancy reappears. She pauses and looks at him. He smiles back, “done?” He mouths and she nods.

She jerks her thumb at the knocked-out Billy and Steve just mouths, “Drugs.”

Nancy’s mouth twitches like she’s stopping a smile from forming on her face. “You alright?” She mouths to him and he gives her a weak smile in return. Eventually, she disappears again and Steve tries to rest his head against the wall but it makes his head burn. So, he just keeps his eyes trained on the chaos. Soon enough, Nancy and Jonathan reappear and they struggle to pull Billy out of the house. Steve would help but he knew he wouldn’t be much help.

When she gets back, Jonathan gives her hand a squeeze before he’s heading back toward where his brother and mom are. Then Nancy’s moving over to Steve and the kids. She moves and sits down next to Mike. Her arm wraps around Mike and the kid doesn’t wake, just leans into her. They stay in silence and Steve feels himself nodding off.

He’s not sure if he actually falls asleep but he jerks into awareness when Hopper gets back with El. El’s in his arms and Steve’s instantly worried. However, as she’s lowered onto the couch, Hopper notices him. “She’s just tired,” he says softly and Steve relaxes slightly. But he isn’t the only one who woke up to Hopper’s return. The kids all seem to awake and then they're talking. Nancy tells them Will’s okay as Hopper does the same for El.

It’s loud and Steve can’t seem to move from his spot on the ground. He hears Nancy talk about what happened and the kids tell the others what happened on their side. But then it goes quiet. He barely even noticed until he feels a hand on his shoulder. “Hmm?” He questions and blinks to see Hopper looking him over. “Lookin’ at m’pretty face?” His words feel slurred and he knows that’s not the best, but he’s too tired to worry.

“Did anyone look you over?” Hopper questions and Steve snorts. It makes his nose burn and he lets his eyes close.

“Kids bandaged me up,” he jokes. Referring to the colorful bandages they slapped on him before they went into the tunnels.

“Steve let’s get you up,” Hopper orders and Steve groans.

Hopper’s hands try to help him but each move makes his brain swirl like a soup bowl. “No, m‘fine here. M’dizzy,” He groans but then Nancy’s also helping him to his feet. As soon as he’s on his feet his stomach rebels and he gags. Suddenly he’s moving fast with the other two helping out the door. He heaves the small amount of shit he’s eaten that day onto the lawn.

“I’m gonna drive him to the hospital,” Hopper states, and Steve whines. “No, it’s not an option kid. Keep an eye on the kids.”

“Is he going to be, okay?” Max questions.

“He was fine earlier,” Dustin says nervously.

Steve lets himself be manhandled toward the truck. “Adrenaline probably’s worn off. I’m sure he’s fine,” Hopper assures and Steve nods in agreement. It makes the older man snort. “Come on,” he orders and Steve gets some help getting into the truck.

As Hopper drives, Steve just leans against the window. “Kid, I want you to stay awake. I’m no doctor, but even I know it’s not good to sleep with a head injury.” Hopper states and Steve groans. “Shh, I don’t care, just listen to me.”

Steve hums, “I already slept.” He groans and Hopper huffs. He looks over and Hopper’s face is a mess of emotions. “M’sorry about tunnels.”

Hopper looked over and he had something on his face, but it wasn’t anger. “Kid… I know it wasn’t your idea about the tunnels. Just thank you for keeping an eye on them. Joyce and I really appreciate it… You’re a good kid.” He says and Steve blinks, feeling tears welling up.

Hopper clears his throat, “And well, I know you were trouble in the past. Parties, alcohol, fights… But you’ve really stepped it up. You’re becoming a role model these kids need.” Steve looked down at his hands and everything was blurry. Whether it was tears or just dizziness he didn’t know. “That’s why you’re going to be fine. Cause you have to be,” Hopper’s voice is gruff and Steve gives him a jerky nod before he sinks into the seat of the truck. “So, stay awake.” Steve nods but his eyes shut anyways.

_4_

Another 40 days I'm lost at sea I'm just gonna swim until you love me Hoping that your heart will rescue me I'm just gonna swim until you love me Swim until you love me Swim, swim, swim. Swim until you love me Swim, swim, swim.

__Robin__

Steve had his back to Robin, tied to each other, to chairs. Knocked over laying on the ground. He felt like shit but he couldn’t really focus on that right now. Not when there were problems at hand. “Robin, are you laughing?” He groans and she continues to laugh.

“I’m sorry! I’m so sorry,” she laughs but then tries to calm herself. “It’s just- I can’t believe I’m gonna die in a secret Russian base with Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington. It’s just too trippy man.” She starts laughing again and he lets his head rest on the cool tile.

“We’re not gonna die,” he says but it’s a lie. He can’t think of a single way they're making it out of here. That’s why he tried to stay behind alone. But once again he wasn’t strong enough.

First, it was running away from the Demogorgon. Then Max came in to save his ass. And now it was how he couldn’t even block a door by himself. It was pathetic… he tries to stay positive and tries to think but then Robin’s still talking. Not an escape plan that would probably fail but about sophomore history class. “I sat behind you 2 days a week for a year. Mister funny. Mister cool. The king of Hawkins High himself.” She makes it harder to breathe as her tone goes darker.

“Do you even remember me from that class?” She asks but they both know the answer. He sits in his self-hatred as she scoffs, “Of course, you don’t. You were a real asshole, you know that?”

He doesn’t hesitate to answer, “Yeah, I know.”

She swallows, “But it didn’t even matter- it didn’t matter that you were an ass. I was still obsessed with you. Even though all of us losers pretend to be above it all, we still just wanna be popular. Accepted. Normal.”

Steve feels like he might break down if he lets her continue. But he knows the right thing to do is let her tell him off. He can’t bury the past. He can’t pretend he wasn’t an asshole. She had every right to bring it up. “If it makes you feel any better, having those things isn’t all that great.” He admits and tries to hide the emotion swirling in his chest, “Seriously. It just baffles me… everything that people tell you is important, everything that people say you should care about, it's all just…” A small laugh escapes him, full of pain. Seeing Nancy’s righteous fury as she looked up at him and said “Bullshit.”

He feels exhausted and sighs, “but I guess you’ve got to mess up to figure things out, right?”

She shifts a little to lean more against him and the closeness makes it a little easier. “I hope so, I feel like my whole life has been… one big error.” She laughs and so does he, even though it’s sadder than funny. Maybe in a better world, they’d be able to laugh about this, years down the line. But the truth was, Steve, expected to die here and he knew Robin did too. Even as they dream about meeting each other earlier. As they wish they never learned about the Russians under their feet.

“Gotta say though, I liked being your schmuck,” he chuckled. In a better world, Steve could’ve proved himself in a different way. But in the end, he’s never really been able to prove himself outside of life-and-death situations. Destined to be alone or never able to truly relax because the next near-death experience will bring another person into his life. He sits there and for this moment… he wanted to be her shmuck. “It was fun while it lasted.”

Robin’s shoulder presses into his and it’s a comfort, “it was.”

***

Steve had sat in his house all alone after getting home. After Russian torture, Monsters, doctors, and government cover-ups. He had taken a shower and curled up on his couch until the sun rose into the sky. Still, he didn’t move. He didn’t know if he had the energy anymore. He had gotten checked over but his brain was too scrambled to really know how he was supposed to do to take care of himself. He was just too exhausted from it all.

Yet around noon, a knock came on his door. He didn’t move until whoever it was knocked again. He pushed himself up and groaned at the movement. When he opened the door, it was to Robin. She stood there in a Madonna tee and baggy shorts. “Hey,” she murmurs and he steps aside to let her in. He walks back to the couch and lowers himself with a groan. “Are you taking any pain medication?” She questions and he glances over to the bag on the coffee table, full of everything they gave him.

He sighs, “Mostly just trying to lay here until I either heal or die.” He smirks and she smiles back at him.

But then she grabs the back and digs through it. Reading a pamphlet and organizing the few bottles on the table. “Steve,” she says and he glanced over here. “You’re not okay, are you?”

Steve sighs and looks back up at the ceiling. “No, I’m really not.”

She’s quiet but then she’s shifting until she is laying down as well. Her head by his, their feet dangling over the side of the couch. “What- why are you here?” He can’t help but ask as they fall into a comfortable silence.

Robin doesn't say anything for a long moment and Steve’s just about to take it back when she sighs. “I told you my deepest, darkest secret…”

Steve shifts his head and looks at her. She turns hers and their faces are inches apart. “Just because I was high doesn’t mean my opinion’s changed, Robin. You like boobies, big deal. So do I…” he pauses and looks back up at the ceiling.

He clears his throat, “I mean I don’t get it. Not really. Never seeing someone as attractive. Like seriously, some guys are ridiculously attractive.” He shrugs, “but to each your own.”

Robin sucks in sharply and Steve winces as she sits up quickly. But she’s not moving away from him. Instead, she’s on her elbows, hovering over him and forcing eye contact. Her face is completely serious, “Steve Harrington, did you just… come out to me?”

He frowns, “I guess.”

Her expression melts into a grin. “You know, for someone who was an asshole, you’ve got a lot of depth.”

“Is that any way to talk to your best friend?” He jokes and she looks so happy at his words.

She shrugs a little and shifts to lie back down next to him. “Ehh, you’ve proved to me that you’re not… you’re a surprisingly good person.”

He lets his eyes close at her words, “thanks I guess.”

“It’s a compliment!” She promises and he nods, letting the words sink in. They settle just like all of the others before.

_5_

I will never get over you.

Another 40 days I'm lost at sea I'm just gonna swim until you love me Hoping that your heart will rescue me I'm just gonna swim until you love me.

__Eddie__

Steve walked side by side with Eddie through the Upside Down. “I guess I couldn’t accept the fact the Steeeve Harrington was actually… a good dude.” Steve looks to the ground, feeling that old familiar feeling stir in his chest. But Eddie had every right to hold those grudges. Steve didn’t know if he ever actually did anything to the guy, but he probably didn’t stop anything either. “Rich parents, popular, chicks love him. Not a douche? No way, man. No way. That like, flies in the face of all the laws in the universe and my own personal Munson doctrine,” Eddie says.

And Steve thinks, maybe he was doomed to be an asshole from the start. Maybe it was just who he was meant to be. Thinking about it, it makes sense. Maybe no matter how much he proves himself, he’ll still be a rich kid who peaked in high school. No matter how much growth, he’d always have that obstacle to overcome.

Then Eddie leaned in closer, so close that Steve had to lean back a little to stop them from touching. “Still super jealous as hell, by the way.” He grins at Steve and Steve can’t help but smile back. Even in this hellscape with his head foggy from pain and the world blurry after he pulled out his ruined contacts after he faced yet another near-death experience… he smiles back. Eddie’s got a good smile, a nice smile.

Steve bumped him back and swallowed back the emotions swirling through him. “That’s why I would’ve never jumped in to save your ass. Not under any, uh… normal circumstances.” Eddie just kept talking, walking right next to him. There’s a noise off to the right and Steve directs the flashlight in that direction, but it’s just more of the decaying landscape. Eddie looks scared for a moment as they stop talking. It makes Steve want to ask him to keep talking. To keep filling the space between them…

Eddie cleared his throat like he heard Steve’s silent prayers. But maybe Eddie needed to fill the silence too. “Nope, outside of d&d I am no hero. I see danger and I just turn heel and run. Or at least that’s what I’ve learned about myself this week.” He says, sounding so guilty that Steve could taste it.

Steve can’t stop himself before he pats Eddie’s chest. “Give yourself a break, man. We all run the first time,” he states and his words seem to hit Eddie.

“You’re telling me that, you, Steve Harrington, the man who just bit one of these creatures, ran the first time,” Eddie says and his voice is so unbelieving that Steve can’t help but snort.

He looks over and knocks their shoulders together. “Yeah, I did,” he sighs. He pictures running from Jonathan, Tommy, and the Demogorgon. He thinks of how he avoided Billy, his parents, and anything about the Upside Down. But then he remembers going to help Dustin figure out the Russians, getting them out of the elevator, knocking out the guard, holding the door, taking the hits… Steve learned to push past his own cowardice.

Steve sighs, “Eddie, you ran and it’s okay. Jesus, it’s okay to run from this shit. Sometimes running means, you live.” He states, picturing all of the people who died fighting. Billy comes to mind. The guy holding his ground. Planting his feet and facing the monster for them. Dying painfully in Max’s arms.

“Sometimes running means someone else dies,” Eddie says and Steve looks over at him. The bags under his eyes. The haunted look that was, no doubt, reflected on his own face.

He looks at the ground, “the first time this stuff happened… someone died in my backyard. She was there for a party and while I was upstairs fucking her best friend, she was being torn apart. I didn’t run, I didn’t fight, man, I didn’t even know it happened. Once again my ability to stand off to the side of everything, got someone hurt... She was there for a party I threw after a kid went missing and I didn’t even care that she was missing the next day.” Steve rambled and felt the old guilt building up. “I was too worried about my parents and- Nancy was right it was bullshit.”

Steve looks over at Eddie, he looks surprised and Steve gives him a small smile. “So, sure, you ran but at least you tried to save her. And I get that it’s easier to blame yourself than to feel like you couldn’t have done anything to save her. But don’t go and do something stupid to make up for it.” His voice goes quiet and Steve glances down at his bandages that were slowly turning red. “Cause dying isn’t going to bring her back.”

Eddie clears his throat, “wow. I- uh, you’re surprisingly wise, man.” He sounds emotional and unsure of himself.

Steve sighs, “nah. I just graduated.” He teases and gets a shove for it. He laughs and Eddie snorts like he couldn’t believe him. He’s got a small smile on his face and he rolls his eyes at Steve. It’s lighthearted and it makes this hellscape feel a little bit lighter.

They fall into silence and Steve breaks it. “But just, thanks for coming in after me.”

Eddie shakes his head, “I was too damn ashamed to be the one who stayed behind. Those ladies, they jumped right in after you. They didn’t waste a second. Didn’t even hesitate.” Steve blinks and looks ahead at the girls. “I don’t know what happened between you and Wheeler or what your deal with Buckley is, but… you’ve got two ladies who are willing to die for you. That’s love... It’s a sign of love if I’ve ever seen it.”

Steve blinks and then he sighs, “Honestly, I would’ve rather you guys run than dive in after me.”

Eddie moves to grab his shoulder, making them pause. He looks back at Eddie, raising an eyebrow. “Well, sucks, man. We came in after you. And now you have to deal with us.”

It makes Steve smile, “trauma bonds us, huh?”

Eddie laughs, “Yeah, Harrington. You got a friend today because of this shit.” It’s not a surprise to Steve. He always seems to get friends from this shit.

“Okay, Munson, sounds like a plan.” Before they can say anymore the earth shakes and Steve holds onto Eddie. They keep each other up as Robin yells for Nancy to come back.

_+1_

Swim until you love me Swim, swim, swim. Swim until you love me Swim, swim, swim.

I will never get over you.

__Eleven__

Steve didn’t have the same childhood as others did. He spent most of his childhood in the back of a car or on a plane. Moving everywhere with his busy parents. He spent more time in a hotel room with his mom than time in his actual house. His mom would put something in front of him and then she’d put as much distance as she could between them.

Once he started school it changed. His mom brought him home and he got used to staying in one place. He met other kids and adults who actually liked their kids. But as he grew up, he began to understand what he had missed all his life.

You’re told that from the minute you’re born, your parents love you. But Steve knew that wasn’t the truth. Just like everyone else, you had to prove yourself to them. Just like a teacher, you had to prove that you were good enough to be loved by them.

And as Steve grew up, he joined sports, played piano to make his mom smile, he learned to use his words to charm everyone. But his parents never believed his charm. It was never enough. Steve was never enough. Eventually not even his mom stayed home with him. It was just Steve in that house. He had tried and tried to be who they wanted but it was never enough. So, he started to act out. He did stupid shit just so they would come home. Even though it was only ever for an argument.

He wanted to prove that he was enough. That he was worth their love. But he never managed it. Over time he learned that was okay. He’ll never prove himself to them, but he can keep proving himself to the family he got through pain and bloodshed. The people he was able to show his love to. The people that were able to love him regardless of his faults.

He drove the kids everywhere they wanted to go. He looked after them so Joyce and Hopper could have a night out. He listened to Robin and supported her through her developing feelings for Nancy. He held Nancy after she and Jonathan broke up. Told her about bisexuality and gently pushed her and Robin closer. He distracted everyone to give Jonathan time to sneak out with Argyle so they could go relax. He sat next to Max’s bed so Lucas and Erica could go get some rest. He talked to Max quietly as she woke up disoriented and sore. He sat with Wayne next to Eddie after the idiot still went to prove himself. He volunteered at the school and pushed himself as much as he could to be the person everyone needed. There was no time to be anything less.

Still, he couldn’t stop the way his body was slowing down. He hadn’t been taking care of himself. How could he when everything else was so much more important? Instead, he said that he’d spend some time at the cabin with El who was once again in lockdown. He made his way through the forest and knocked the weird knock. The door swung open and El stood there looking tired but happy to see him. “Hey, kid,” He greets and heads inside.

“Hello,” she says softly back. It’s shy but kind. It’s expected. Steve hasn’t hung around El too much and never alone. He only really knew her through stories from the others.

“So, what do you want to do? What do you normally do? I uh- I’m not uh…” He trailed off as she grabbed a bowl of already-made popcorn and pulled him over to the couch.

She looked over at him with those big eyes of hers. “I do not have lots of experience with hangouts. Max and I…” she trailed off, her eyes growing watery. He shifts and pulls her into his side.

He clears his throat, “well, I have some. Robin and I do dumb shit together all the time.” He looked over at this girl who hadn’t really had a chance to be a teenage girl and hang out with other girls. Being surrounded by boys who weren’t going to teach her to lean into her feminine side.

He sucked in a sharp breath, “You deserve a girls' night and while I’m not a girl, I can do my best.” She looked confused as he stood up from the couch. He groaned as the movements made his bites pull. “Now, where is your nail polish? That always seems like a good start. I’m going into the kitchen to see what you have to make face masks.” She blinked up at him before her face cracked into a grin.

As he mixes up the oats, using the recipe Robin had told him oh so long ago. El moves around him, the movie long forgotten. “Alright, so I know the next step is talking about crushes and that shit.” He states twirling around to look at El. He easily applies it to her face and he pulled his hair into a half up/half down to keep it out of the mask. “Everything we say is safe and stays within the girl night.” He grins, leaning into overdramatic just so she’ll laugh.

“I uh, broke up with Mike.” She admits and Steve leans over to take a hand of hers to start applying the soft yellow polish.

He hums, “and how are you feeling about it?”

Her mouth twists as she tries to find her words. “I think, I think it is good. But I still love him in a way.”

Steve nods, “love doesn’t just go away. When Nancy and I broke up I went insane. For months I was always upset but then I decided to sleep around to see if that would make me feel better. It didn’t so I don’t think you should go down that road.” He teases and she smiles at him. “But even now I love her. But it’s not romantic love anymore.” He shrugs and sticks his tongue out in concentration.

“I don’t think I love him in a romantic way. But knowing if you love someone in an uh," she paused and looked at him before slowly saying, "romantic(?) way is hard,” She sighs. He nods in agreement; it seems to get her to keep talking. “I thought I loved him in a romantic way but it feels like when I see Will. And Will is my brother… Max, I thought-” she cuts herself off with a sigh. “I thought I liked her but I am happy that she is with Lucas. They are quite cute together. I do not think I understand love.”

Steve pictures Eddie's big smile as he said, big boy. “Love is hard, but sometimes to figure out who you love you have to look at those you already understand.”

She looked confused and Steve smiles at her, moving to her other hand. “I loved Nancy, I know I did. But I understood that I liked men by comparing my feelings when she smiled at me too when a guy would get in my space. But I also thought I loved Robin until she fit firmly next to Dustin in my heart. And with Eddie he easily took up the space Nancy left behind.” He admits and her eyes are wide. “So take two people you know for sure and compare everyone else to them.” He says and she nods, brow pinched.

“Will is my brother, I do not want to kiss him.” She states, “Mike used to make me feel like…” she pulled her hands back and mimed shimming and grinning like a lunatic. He couldn’t help but laugh and she gave him her hand once again. “Lucas is like Will, I love him but I do not feel like that with him. Mike, as you said, left space in my heart. But he feels more like a friend.” She nods and he’s proud of how she sorts through people. She frowns, “Max makes me happy but I do not want to kiss her. I want her to be happy and I want to hang out with her.”

She frowns, “Dustin is my friend. He makes me happy. He makes me feel loved and strong.” She says softly, “I do not know… Steve?” She asks and she sounds so lost.

His heart hurts for her. “Kid, I can’t explain your feelings for someone. I just know that when someone makes you happy, you should hold onto them... With Robin, I think I could’ve lived with her the rest of my life. But then she turned me down. And now, it’s gross to even think about kissing her. She’s my sister,” he laughs and she grins at him. “With Nancy, she fell in love with someone when she was with me… our love faded and it couldn’t be helped. But I hold onto my love for them even now that it’s changed. Maybe one day you’ll know what category to put him in, maybe you won’t. But being around him will help that.”

El nods and Steve’s down with her nails. She waves them around to dry them. “I was happy that he was okay. He is nice,” she’s got a small blush on her face and he hopes that this time it would work out for her. “I am really glad he’s okay,” she says softly and takes the paint from him to start on his nails. He offers them easily, holding the bottle in his free hand for her.

Steve thinks about how Eddie’s blood dripped down his back as they carried him out of the Upside Down. “Fear is one way to kick start crushes.”

She nods, looking sad. “It is not fun,” she sighs and he knows that to be the truth.

They fall into silence as she focuses on his nails. But once she’s done she smiles at him and puts it away. They wash their faces and sit on the couch. He tosses a piece of popcorn and catches it easily. She watches him before attempting to do the same. They stay like that until she looks over at him. “I love you like a brother, like Jonathan.” She says and she makes it sound easy like it’s not a big deal.

It hits him because he’s never been through hell with her. They’ve always been in opposite roles and never once did he put himself in front of a monster for her. “You can’t,” he says softly.

“Steve,” El looks up at him with big eyes. She looks so innocent and it feels like he’s taking advantage of her naivety. She didn’t know that he was always meant to be an asshole. She didn’t understand that he had to prove himself. “You are… Joyce told me that you can say I love you to those you care about. Family, friends, anyone.” She says and she looks a little worried. “She told me that a brother does not have to be a real family member. It is about… being there for each other and caring. You are so kind; you care about us. So, you are our brother.”

Steve shakes his head, “but I- you barely know me, kid. I think you need to take a moment before you decide too quickly. I’m not- I’m not a good person.”

Her nose scrunches up, “you have only ever been kind to me.”

That makes him blink, “well, yeah. But I met you after I worked on becoming a better person. So, you just don’t know.”

El looks over at a picture of the party she pinned to the wall. “They told me you used to be an asshole.” She states and he waits for the words. But you’re better now. You’ve proved that you’ve changed. Instead, she shrugs, “I don’t see it. You have always been kind. You have not proven yourself to be an asshole.”

Steve feels his throat closing and shifts on the couch, “no. El you don’t understand, you have to prove to others that you're worth loving. You can’t just- you can’t just love me. I’m- you-” There’s something pulling in his chest and it’s like he can’t breathe.

“I think you are wrong. For a long time, I did not understand love. It felt wrong. Like a chain to those who demand things of you…” He can see how tense she is and hates that he’s the one making her think back to the lab. “Papa loved me because I proved him right because I was his. But Hop showed me that you can find love everywhere. It is good, it is… it is freedom.”

She looked up at him with determination. “Joyce told me that loving someone is being happy with them. If they make you smile. If they make you feel safe. And if you love freely, you will be happier. My love is free. I want to give you my love.” Steve choked on his tears and she hesitates before she reaches out and takes his hand, “Will you let me?”

“El, I-” he can’t spit out the words he just nods. El easily pulls him into a hug. Always so strong for someone so small.

She loved him even though he was made to be an asshole. She loved him without any hesitance. He cried openly, holding her tightly. She held him just as tight. “I love you too,” he promises and he can feel her smile.

#stranger things #hurt steve harrington #king steve #the party is a family #steve harrington needs a hug #steve harrington #eddie will never die in my stories #steddie is too good #steddie #based on swim by alec benjamin #music inspiration

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bellafragolina · 1 year

Note

Can I please have headcanons for Brassius, Larry and Clavell with a female, chubby, very very big chested SO?

They accidentally walk in on her changing, which results in a big revelation for them because they ever saw her only in baggy shirts and now for the first time with bare chest.

Thanks in advance ❤️

- Anon Germany

hello my darling! coming right up!

🍓🍓🍓

Brassius:

Brassius is an appreciator of beauty. He knows it when he sees it, and he loves all of it. And now is no different. Walking in to find you, perfect beautiful you, with your torso bare to him. . . It’s a sculpture he can never hope to recreate. The thought alone sends him to his knees in agony.

He laments never being able to truly capture your beauty as you stand there, clutching your clothes, unsure of what to do. You scramble to put a shirt on, but that just leads to him lamenting more and louder. You’re so beautiful! Your figure is perfect! You must let him gaze upon it! Please.

Brassius respects your choice if you say no. After he calms down, he realizes how much that must’ve been for you, and apologizes profusely. While he does want to sculpt you, paint you, he understands all of that was a lot and might’ve made you uncomfortable. But you are beautiful, so there’s no need to hide behind baggy clothes. If you like, he knows some nice boutiques, and his eye for fashion isn’t half bad. If you’re interested?

Larry:

At first, without hearing the door open, you don’t even realize Larry is there. He’s stood dead silent in the doorway, just watching you get undressed after a long day. He doesn’t mean to be creepy or anything, he just can’t help admiring the view. He’s never seen your full figure before, and he likes seeing just how beautiful you are beneath your baggy clothing

When you finally notice Larry standing there and scream or yell out your shock, you get quite a show. For the first time, Larry looks almost panicked. He darts out of the door, tripping over himself as he goes, and hides in the living room. He's mortified at how pervy and weird that was, and feels terrible for scaring you like that.

He apologies the moment you come out of the room. It's awkward, because he's trying to explain why he was just stood there staring, but everything he says sounds bad. He was admiring you, how pretty your figure is, but not in a perverted way! He's really sorry, but he hopes you know how gorgeous you are, baggy clothing or no.

Clavell:

Clavell, the poor thing, does not sneak up on you. He enters the room, sees you're half naked, and shouts so loud you nearly fall over. He's covering his eyes, stammering out apologies for walking in without knocking in his haste, struggling to get out of the room without being able to see. You take pity on him, guiding him out of the room, and he gets one last glance of your figure, your large chest

Clavell collapses into an armchair in the living room, reeling from what he just saw. He can't get the image of you out of his head. He's imagining ten million things, from outfits you could wear to things he could say to you as compliments. He tries to hash together more apologies alongside the compliments, wanting to be sincere but not crude! You're beautiful to him, in every way there is.

When you come out, he apologies again, hoping he didn't cause you too much distress. Though in reality he probably stressed himself out more than anything. He compliments you, and things continue, but you notice a change in him. He's taking you to boutiques, showing you beautiful dresses and shirts he says would accentuate your figure. He's willing to buy it all himself, if only you'll wear it? Even just for him? Please?

🍓🍓🍓

first request of the new batch eyo

~Renee

#brassius x reader #larry x reader #director clavell x reader #clavell x reader #pokemon imagines #pokemon x reader

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irish-urn · 2 months

Note

What do you think would have happened if Derek showed up at Casey's show for that second night and they hadn't been together or making out or admitting they had feelings for each other or whatever they're doing in No White Flags?

With either it being they're still in a fight from Derek calling Casey a bitch or if they were still besties like they were at queens and the fight never happened.

Ooooooh. Oooh. Okay.

So. We know (and Sam knows) that Derek bought those tickets weeks ago, back when he and Casey weren't speaking. The reason he bought them? As a last resort. Derek showing up for that final show is him showing his hand, it's him putting his cards on the table and I don't know how to play Poker so I can't continue this metaphor, but you get what I'm saying. Up until that point Casey *believes* that Derek likes her, but she doesn't *know* that he does. She... Wants to believe. She wants to trust him. But it still doesn't seem real to her, despite his actions and words. It's not until she sees him, by himself, dresses in date clothes, waiting for her after a show (that he admittedly didn't enjoy!!!) that she finally starts being brave. For Casey, this is the turning point.

So. Had Derek shown up to Casey's show and they hadn't sorted things out, he would have had to decide whether or not to let her know that he went. Of course, if Casey doesn't know, then he's not getting anything from it, and the tickets weren't cheap and the show is super effed up, so, okay. He's telling Casey he's there. Then what?

So, at this point, Casey and Derek are both aware that they're playing with fire. They both know they have feelings. They strongly suspect the other has feelings. But it's been a summer of fights and silence and family being shoved down their throats, and this Casey -- and remember her mental state in chapter one of NWF, imagine her feeling that way for another 4+ weeks -- is bruised and guilty and unsure, and questioning both herself and Derek, because maybe she was wrong, maybe these feelings aren't worth pursuing, maybe she was imagining things, surely it's not worth ruining the family over...

Imagine that Casey being faced with a Derek, by himself, dressed in date clothes, clearly there just for her. The only person that has gone to see the show twice.

...I think Casey would run. I think she would have a panic attack and turn on her heel and run.

...and I think Derek would chase her. And then I think they would have that talk in an empty room in that theatre house, sitting on the floor with Casey pressed against the door and Derek trying not to reach out and hold her like he wants to. I think, if Derek had done that much, he'd finish the job. I think he'd aim for the goal and take his shot. I think Casey would cry and he'd stammer and fumble, and I think it would end with the two of them holding hands and blushing, and Casey finally gathering her courage and leaning forward to say, "Thank you for coming to my show;" and kissing him on the cheek.

I think he'd grin a little and say, "Can you do a better show next time? This one sucks." And then he'd kiss *her* on the cheek, so she knew he didn't mean her. And then, I think she'd skip the Cast Party and they'd go for a drive, and probably end up making out in the back seat. Casey cries again. Derek tells her her makeup is running and she looks like a raccoon. She hits him. He pinches her. They end up in one of those stupid little slap fights where no one is hurting and they're both grinning more than they should.

He takes her home. She falls asleep in Lizzie's room and wakes up the next morning half-convinced it was all a dream. Derek sends her several flirty texts before she finally corners him and demands answers and he responds by pulling her into the Game Closet and pinning her to the wall and kissing the breath out of her.

...yeah. yeah, I think that's what would happen.

#asks #dasey #life with derek #kick at the darkness 'till it bleeds daylight

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milkywaygg · 10 months

Text

Confidential Affairs Chapter 11

Cosma Interpretations belong to @eripops Enjoy!

For the next two weeks, Jules decided to grin and bear it as he continued his final days of work. Despite getting a bit overly emotional while handing Lesley his resignation, Jules also felt a warm feeling in the bottom of his stomach that he was making the right choice. Between the two of them, Euphemia made at least 4 times as much as he did hourly and did a much better job paying the bills on time and making sure everything was taken cared of, and he didn’t like the idea of his baby in a stranger’s arms rather than his own. He or she was supposed to be his and Euphemia’s baby, not theirs. They weren’t the ones giving birth.

As he buttoned his polo and finished getting ready for his last day of work, Jules’ phone vibrated off his nightstand, the caller ID showing a bunch of numbers that Jules has not recognized but started with his local area code. Curiosity killing the cat, he took a seat on the bed, picking up the phone.

“Hey hey!”

“Good morning! Am I speaking to a Mr Cosmo Primrose?”

“Oh I-I go by Jules, thanks. Who is this?”

“This is Dr. Winchester’s receptionist on duty. I see you have an appointment scheduled a month from now. However, we had tried to process your payment and it looks like your health insurance is no longer valid.”

“No longer valid? What do you mean? I should be under my fiance’s insurance plan? Can you look under Euphemia Cosma.”

“We did sir. According to your insurance company, it had expired last month due to non payment. Did you guys move to a different plan by any chance? I know some clients do that and forget to update their information. It happens all the time.”

“Not that I’m aware of...How much is my next appointment since I’m not covered?”

“Looks like it’ll be about $415 without insurance.”

“Wow haha…wow that’s crazy. Um..”, Jules stammered, unsure how to handle the unwelcome news, “Would it be possible to hold off on the payment until we figure something out. I-I mean I can pay out of pocket..but $415 just to see my baby is healthy? That’s insane.”

“I’m sorry sir. I don’t set the prices.”

“I-I know you don’t. I’m sorry. It’s just…wowza…I had no idea my insurance expired…um…you know what? I got to get to work, but I’ll talk to my girlfriend about it and figure out what to do from there. Thanks for letting me know.”

As soon as he hung up, Jules switched to Euphemia’s contact information, unsure of what was going on. Pressing call, he held his phone back up to his ear once more, only to get no response. Checking the time and knowing he had to go soon, Jules sighed in frustration as he shot Euphemia a text, annoyed at her cryptic attitude.

We need to talk sometime tonight.

The final hour of his final shift; Jules would be lying to himself if he said he wasn’t going to miss working at the flower shop. He had worked there ever since he had gotten out of college, hoping that one day, he would become the manager after Lesley had retired or moved on. Yet, as he swept up the fallen petals off the ground, he looked down and smiled at the belly bump forming inside him. He’d give up anything for his little one, even his entire life.

Although there was a sense of peace in knowing that he was making the right choice, there was also a nagging feeling of dread as night time approached, getting closer to the talk he wanted to have with Euphemia. He really, truly wanted to believe her when she said everything was alright, but the piled up bills and now canceled insurance said otherwise. He didn’t understand why she kept letting it all pile up, regardless of how many times he talked to her.

All of the sudden, the doorbell rang as a customer stepped in; Jules feeling a cold aura flow through the store as he heard the clicks of her jet black heels approach the counter.

“I have a pick-up for Athena-oh. Cosmo. I didn’t know you worked here.”

“Jules please, thanks.”, Jules said nervously, squirming as Athena glared at him, crossing her arms.

“I don’t recall that being your name. Now, pick up for Athena. I don’t have all day. Severus and I have a reservation we can’t be late for. Chop chop.”

“Oh-of course.”, Jules stammered, handing her the bouquet of roses, without so much as a thank you, “It’s just, that’s the name I prefer.”

“But it’s not your legal name. What kind of child still uses nicknames? Quite frankly, I don’t see the point.”, Athena said, sneering at Jules’ frown, “Ugh, and the attitude, my lord! It’s no wonder why you left Euphemia. You’re so obsessed with your poor lifestyle, you couldn’t understand what a catch she was.”

“Wait wait wait-woah! Hang on!”, Jules squeaked, loud enough for Athena to stop in her tracks, “W-what do you mean I left her?”

“Well, she told us the news over dinner the other Monday night.”, Athena said, “I know it must be hard to deal with and I bet you’re just heartbroken, but you leaving her was the best thing you could have done for her.”

“Wait…s-she told you? I-I don’t understand…She’s usually working late.”

“Yes, well the one good thing that came out of her losing her job was that she now has a pretty free social calendar.”, Athena said, looking at Jules with a somewhat interested look as she watched him turn white as a ghost, his head spinning in different directions.

“She lost her job??? W-what wait…I..”, Jules began to shake as he collapsed down, grabbing his head as his entire body went into a straight panic. Upon watching this episode however, Athena noticed the silver and emerald flower ring that rested on Jules’ ring finger.

“What the fuck???”, Athena screamed all of the sudden, slamming her bouquet of roses on the nearest table. “Why do you still have that ring on? I thought she returned it?”

“I-I-I don’t know. I really don’t know what’s going on…oh my god…”, Jules’ breathing sharpened as tears flowed down his face, all other noise blocked out other than his crying and Athena’s screaming. As she continued to berate him, deep in his thoughts, he was able to connect the dots. Her job provided the health insurance and now that she was unemployed, they didn’t get that benefit anymore, and her losing her job explained the piled up bills. Yet, if she wasn’t working, then where was she going? What was she doing all day and night? Was she..no…she wouldn’t do that to him…

Feeling as if his entire body could explode and molt into lava, Jules threw his olive green apron onto the ground and made his way through the door, accidentally shoving Athena gently on the side.

“Watch it, you clumsy-”

“Fuck off!”, Jules screamed, making Athena freeze as she watched him leave, standing dumbfounded as the man stormed off. Euphemia had absolutely no idea how lucky she was that he was pregnant. Otherwise, he would love nothing more than to zap her into oblivion right now. Cutting two corners, he finally made it back to their town home and unlocked the door, slamming it behind him as he scanned the room, spotting Euphemia’s bee-hive swirl in the middle of the kitchen.

“Oh hey sweetheart.”, she said, putting her briefcase down with a tired look on her face, “Was wok ok? My day was a killer.”

“Oh really? I’m sure it was.”, Jules sneered, “I had a pretty interesting day at work myself, dear. It just so happens that I ran into your mother. You didn’t tell me today was their anniversary.”

“Oh…oh yea, I guess it is. I uh…kinda forgot. Why do you ask?”

“Well she and I just had a splendid little chat. She said you lost your job, which I think is kinda crazy because if you did, you probably would have told me, right?”

“Uhm..”, Euphemia stammered until Jules interrupted her.

“AND I guess she’s losing her mind on top of it all to, because she made up this crazy story about how I left you and you had returned my wedding ring.”

“I…well…listen Jules, I can explain.”, Euphemia said, reaching her arms out, only to be shoved away, “Baby, darling, honey pie, there’s a reason I had to tell my mother those things. See, when I moved out, my parents agreed to help me pay for the rent if I took care of the smaller bills, since um…they figured that I couldn’t make it on my own B-But when I lost my job, my mother had cut me off, so I had only lied to them in order to get back in their good graces.”

“B-But I…I don’t understand…why did you have to lie about it?”, Jules asked, her breathing still frantic but the tone getting slowly more exhausted as his anger consumed him, “W-Why did you fucking lie to me about everything that was happening? I’m about to be your husband! I-you can’t just hide these things from me! I….can we even afford this baby? I don’t give a shit about the wedding right now, but our baby?”

“I…well I do have some money in my savings, but it would be a struggle.”, Euphemia said sadly, “I’m truly sorry Jules. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I-I just didn’t want you to worry and hurt while you’re pregnant, or at all. My mother had always taught me that it was my job as the woman of the household to take care of all the finances and make sure we had a roof over our heads.”

“Euphemia, look around you. This isn’t your parents’ time anymore. Things change.”, Jules’ voice softened as small tears dripped off the corners of his eyes, “If you would’ve just…talked to me, we could have figured this out. We could have waited to have this baby, o-or just gone to the courthouse to get married instead of a wedding, but no.”

“I thought you wanted a baby and wedding?”

“Of course I do, but not if you and I are going to struggle!”, Jules yelled, “It’s not even about the fact that you lost your job. It’s the fact that you lied about it, especially towards the person you sleep in the same mother fucking bed in! I..”

“Jules I…you know I only did what I did because I wanted to take care of you.”

“And look where that got us.”, Jules sneered, before turning his back, coldly, “I’m going to bed. Don’t disturb me when you climb in. I-I need some space right now.”

#fairly oddparents #cosma family #au #fanfic

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thedivinelights · 2 years

Text

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Pairings: Ebenezer Scrooge/Isabel Fezziwig

Summary:

Ebenezer Scrooge has spent these past two years fixing bonds he had destroyed, building bridges that he had burned. No more did people look upon him and fear. It was safe to say his future was averted.

Then the cracks began to appear, showing him the one he had carelessly thrown away years ago. He knew there was more to be done.

Perhaps happiness was not fully out of his reach just yet

The trip to Isabel's estate was a long yet uneventful one, allowing both the chance to converse as they had done so many years ago.

"How is young Harry?" Isabel had asked.

"The boy's doing well for himself. He's married now to a woman named Hela." Scrooge replied, "They're expecting a child soon. I... I'll admit I cannot help but fear the worst."

Scrooge clenched his fists at the thought, a deep onset of worry settling within his heart. Isabel could understand that worry well. She had been there when he received that fated letter after Christmas lunch. She remembered him breaking down sobbing his heart out, the entire Fezziwig family doing all they could to comfort him.

"I should have been there..." He had cried out back then, "Why wasn't I with her?!"

Isabel doubted that he was the same after that and that fear seeped into his apprehension of having children. Perhaps it was a sign she was blind to. Perhaps she didn't want to admit that.

She hesitantly placed her hand on Scrooge's, squeezing it tightly to give him silent comfort. His breath hitched as he did so, turning to face her with tears pricking his eyes. He briefly stopped to wipe them from his eyes, Isabel waiting patiently as he did so.

He inhaled deeply through his nose, before a shaky exhale released most of his worries from his mind and he was finally able to give a genuine smile once more.

"I shouldn't worry." He said finally, "Hela is a strong woman, and I'm certain that Harry wouldn't let anything happen to her."

"If he has your stubbornness, he wouldn't even dare to leave her side for a moment."

Scrooge gave a hearty laugh at that and it grew to spread to Isabel as well. Her laugh was something the old man had not heard in a long while.

"You always had a way with words, Isabel." Scrooge said with a smile, "And... it's good to hear your laughter again."

"Yours as well." Isabel shook her head with a smile that faltered slightly but remained steadfast, "I'm glad you've changed, Ebenezer. You were not the man I once knew."

Scrooge's smile wavered at her words, his brow furrowing in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"After joining with Marley, you were always so... so cold, distant. Unfeeling. But now... now I see the man I fell in love with all those years ago." She replied, "I am happy you managed to find peace in these times."

Scrooge was at a loss for words, unsure of what to say. He knew that he had changed, that he had become a better man thanks to the visits from the three ghosts. But to hear it from Isabel, to hear that she still had feelings for him... it was overwhelming.

"Isabel... I-I don't know what to say." He stammered out, his heart pounding in his chest.

"You don't have to say anything, Ebenezer. I just wanted you to know how I feel." Isabel said, squeezing his hand again.

It didn't take much longer until they both reached the estate, a grandiose mansion at the very end of the road. Scrooge felt it a tad too large for his liking, preferring his own flat to the lack of homeliness such a large building can give. As they walked towards the front door of the estate, Isabel's demeanour appeared to shift ever so slightly slightly. She became more reserved, her eyes scanning the area nervously. Scrooge noticed the change but didn't say anything, thinking it was just nerves from being reunited after so long. Just as she was about to make her way inside, however, Scrooge gently held her arm to stop her.

"Isabel, I... I just want to let you know that I never forgot about you. You have always been in my thoughts." Scrooge said, his voice filled with emotion.

He wanted to get this out in the open. He didn't deserve her anymore, he knew that better than anyone, but still he wished to give her closure. That the man she knew and loved would always be with her. Isabel looked at him with pity and despair, removing her arm from his grip and stepping away from him.

"I know, Ebenezer. I know you still have feelings for me. Perhaps I still have feelings for you too. But it's too late now. We can't go back to what we had. It's in the past now." Isabel said sadly, "What you did... while I've forgiven, I'm not sure I can forget. I loved you, Ebenezer, but the moment you became Marley I... I wasn't sure what to think anymore."

She shook her head, "And besides, Solomon has been good to me. He's given my family much and more. Twenty years of marriage cannot so easily be undone."

Scrooge looked on with pain in his eyes, but still he continued, "I know that better than anyone, Isabel. I just... I merely wished to apologise for everything, for searching for something I couldn't find when all I ever needed was your love. I was a fool to cast you away like that... and for that, I am sorry."

Now Isabel began to have tears prick her own eyes, but just as she was about to respond they both heard the door open behind them, revealing a young man who appeared to be in his late twenties. His brown hair was tied up in a small ponytail and his grey eyes betraying a hint of roughness to his posture.

"Mother, who is this man?" He demanded, his voice rather gruff for his age.

Isabel rolled her eyes at the man's tone and gave Scrooge an apologetic look before turning to her son.

"Ambrose, this is Ebenezer Scrooge. We were old friends from many years ago." Isabel introduced Scrooge to her son, who gave him a cursory glance before turning back to his mother.

"Mother, I don't care who he is. You should not be seen with him without proper supervision." Ambrose said in a stern tone, making Scrooge bristle at the disrespect towards his own mother.

"Ambrose, I am a grown woman and I do not need supervision. Mr. Scrooge is an old friend and I will see him if I please." Isabel retorted back, a hint of annoyance in her voice.

"Fine, but do not make a scene. Father will not be pleased if he hears of this." Ambrose growled angrily before storming off inside the house, mumbling about how Elizabeth too should not be outside at this hour without a man.

Scrooge looked on in shock as the man left his view for a few brief moments before turning to Isabel, "Quite the character I've been introduced to."

Isabel sighed, "That would be my eldest, Ambrose. He is... a bit of a stickler when it comes to social norms, shall we say?"

Scrooge knew immediately what she was implying and let out a sigh. Even before his redemption he always believed that all humans needed to move forward in the times and make their own social norms. He held a strong dislike against those who kept with 'traditions' of the past, especially when it came to the stereotypes between man and woman. Yet his views were but the minority; his influence wouldn't be enough to change the whole of England.

Even still, he did not wish to appear rude in front of that man's mother and one whom he loved so dearly.

"He seems like a fine young man." Scrooge gave a small smirk, "With who his mother is, he must be trying to swat away potential suitors with his cane."

Isabel blushed at the offhanded compliment before making her way to the door, "I do hope that is the case. I'd like to see him settle down eventually."

She gave a smile as she opened the door, taking one long look at her former flame before she was inevitably called back into the house by Ambrose.

"It was good to see you again, Ebenezer. Perhaps... Perhaps I shall see you again soon."

She saw the look in his eyes, the silent message that he would always be here if she needed him. It was enough for her to look at him fondly once more before closing the door behind her and leaving Scrooge all alone in the courtyard.

His eyes lingered on the closed door for a while, his smile turning into a melancholy frown before the hurt was far too much for him to bear and he walked away, the full moon his only companion in this wintry night.

And as he continued on, he could not help but remember those simpler times, all those years ago...

---

Many years ago, Ebenezer was once a young man full of hopes and dreams. He had just finished his apprenticeship with the esteemed Mr. Fezziwig, a successful merchant and a compassionate employer. Scrooge was eager to prove himself and make a name for himself in the world of business.

Fezziwig was a kind and generous man, known for his jovial nature and love of the Christmas season. He would often throw lavish parties for his employees during every holiday, filled with food, drink, and merriment. Scrooge, who had grown up in a household that was rather dour and miserly, was enthralled by Fezziwig's generous spirit and revelled in the joy that the parties brought to all those around him.

Despite his enthusiasm, Scrooge quickly began to see the flaws in Fezziwig's approach to business. Fezziwig was a great employer, he did not mistake that, but he was not a great businessman. He was far too generous, far too willing to give away his profits, and far too willing to overlook the flaws in his employees. Scrooge, who had been taught the value of hard work and thrift from a young age, found Fezziwig's approach to be wasteful and misguided. But in spite of all the foibles, Scrooge found the father he felt he never had in Fezziwig and was determined to work as hard as he could to keep the business going.

One day, a young woman named Isabel walked into the warehouse, and Scrooge's entire world was turned upside down. She was beautiful, with long, flowing blond hair and bright blue eyes that sparkled with mischief and curiosity. She was Fezziwig's daughter, and she had come to the office to give her father the lunch he had forgotten.

Scrooge tried to ignore Isabel at first, focusing all of his attention on his work. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't help but be drawn to her. He found himself watching her every move, admiring the way she laughed and joked with the other employees, and feeling a strange, almost magnetic pull towards her that he felt hypnotised whenever she glanced his way.

Soon, Scrooge and Isabel began to spend more and more time together, going on long walks around the city and talking for hours about their hopes and dreams. Scrooge, who had always been so focused on his work, found himself opening up to Isabel in a way that he never had with anyone before.

Slowly but surely, Scrooge began to fall in love with Isabel. He admired her free spirit and her infectious joy, and he longed to spend the rest of his life by her side. Eventually, he left Fezziwig's warehouse, meeting with an old money lender named Jacob Marley. He offered a job with far more security than he felt Fezziwig could offer, and Scrooge — after some deliberation and apprehension — he accepted after confessing his feelings for Isabel.

He spent much of his time working under Marley, bettering himself further before gaining enough coin to buy a ring to propose to her. She accepted, of course.

A stable income... a loving companion... it seemed all had been well in Scrooge's life. He shouldn't have needed anything more.

He shouldn't have needed anything other than her.

As time went on, Scrooge became increasingly concerned about their security. He felt they needed more financially, and thus threw himself into his work... to Marley's appeal. He began going home less and less. When once he was flexible in his loans, he tightened his pull. Where once he cared for others, he ended up leaving them on the curb. He even put the father of the heterochromatic boy who would eventually work with him in debtor's prison.

He became increasingly bitter and resentful, and his relationship with Isabel suffered as a result. And soon... soon she couldn't take it anymore. She begged him to look her way, not push her away. Yet the young man was blind to her plight, and Isabel eventually stepped up to say 'no' and took off her ring, leaving him all alone.

His last string of stability since his sister's death faded, and in his grief he fell susceptible to Marley's influence, becoming cold-hearted and ruthless. He spent long hours at the counting house, pouring over ledgers and accounts, and he became increasingly distant and detached from his family. He became consumed by his work, and he gradually lost sight of the things that truly mattered in life.

And while the ghosts helped him see the light once more, there was still much and more that he needed to fix.

Much and more he had to fix.

---

Two weeks later Scrooge found himself in his office with swarms of paperwork upon his desk, having felt rather guilty for making Bob do most of it himself in the hours he had been gone and basically forced him take some time off. He dipped his quill in the inkwell for what felt like the hundredth time as he continued to sign off more names that had dutifully repaid their loans with more than he actually required. He gave a weary groan as he leaned back into his chair, finally beginning to feel his age catching up with him.

He pulled out his pocket watch, briefly checking the time before the silver trinket reminded him of Isabel, causing his frown to deepen slightly.

He had been taking his time to consider what little he had seen of Isabel's family and despite having only seen two of his children — not even the man of the house himself — he could easily tell that something was amiss, but he couldn't quite put his finger on what. He noticed the way Isabel's eyes darted around whenever he mentioned her family, the way her voice grew colder when Solomon was introduced. It was certainly enough to unnerve him, that was for sure.

And, well, speaking of Solomon, Scrooge felt that he knew nothing about the man, save for the brief snippets of information he received from Isabel and from that newspaper article. Curious, he decided to ask Harry and Hela about it in a recent gathering to mark the end of November, considering that they were far more well-versed in the comings and goings of socialites.

"He's well-known for being an incredible lawyer." Hela had answered, "All those whom he defends are acquitted, and he's liked amongst many for his charismatic attitude and the charity work he and his children do. Not much is known about his wife, though, but I have heard rumours about her being the daughter of the late Leopold Fezziwig."

"I actually met him once!" Harry had cut in, "He is a delightful partner in golf! Perhaps I can arrange for him to meet with you, although I wouldn't be able to promise anything. Despite his kindness, the man is a bit of a recluse."

Well-liked, charitable, good at his job, a bit of a recluse... all of these qualities hardly stuck out to Scrooge in any way, for they were traits many self-important citizens always strived to have. But Hela's comment on Isabel caught his eye, and not in a good way. Why was it that no one knew who she was? Having worked under Fezziwig, he knew that the man and his family had quite the reputation. Surely the press would jump at the chance to talk about her being wed to the most incredible attorney of their age. Hell, even he didn't even know she was married to Solomon, and he was one to scour through every inch of every newspaper when he had the chance. It was an unfortunate hobby of his.

Scrooge rested his head in his hands, Prudence looking up at him from her bed. All this pondering was giving him a headache, and being in his stuffy old office certainly didn't help ease it. The clock had just struck six anyway, so he made the conscious effort to force himself out of his chair. He whistled to Prudence, who got up and followed her master until he reached the door of his office. Making sure to hide his more sensitive ledgers, Scrooge made to pull the blind down when a sudden flash of purple blinded him and he stumbled onto the ground before allowing his eyes to readjust to the light.

The cracks had returned.

They had appeared multiple times in the course of the ghosts' visits that fateful Christmas Eve and the feast afterwards, appearing if someone had punched a hole in reality. He would have felt that he was going mad were it not for the obvious signs that Prudence could see them as well. The scenes were hardly pleasant, with Scrooge chalking it up to the ghosts trying to push him towards redemption even further. Yet here it was two years later, returned with greater clarity with none of the ghosts in sight.

"What...?" He shakily began to stand and dusted himself, squinting at the images before him.

Unlike previous encounters, the cracks seemed different. They were longer, more defined, and Scrooge found himself able to see clearer images within them. The floating shards around the scene showing cogs turning within. He saw a younger version of himself, sitting in his office with Isabel by his side. They were laughing and smiling, and Scrooge couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness at the thought of what could have been. What he had left behind.

The cracks then shifted to present day, showing Solomon and Isabel in their home, eating dinner with their children. Isabel looked to be picking at her food, with Ambrose and Elizabeth and another one, whom Scrooge believed to be their youngest, all silent as they ate. He had finally managed to get a glimpse of Solomon now, if only barely. He had been wearing a maroon suit, his shoulder-length hair — now greyed with a dulled out brown in comparison to the bright colour Scrooge had seen before — tied up in a neat ponytail. He was looking upon some documents he had brought to the table, hardly acknowledging his own family's presence.

Finally, the cracks showed a glimpse of the future, with Isabel standing alone in her home, tears streaming down her face as Ambrose yelled at her, his words incoherent to his ears. Scrooge couldn't bear to watch any longer, and he closed his eyes, hoping the cracks would disappear.

See.

Scrooge gasped as he opened his eyes, the cracks that were once there now disappeared, and in their place stood the familiar robed figure towering over him. Scrooge shivered slightly as those flaming orbs stared deep into his soul. The word he heard held no voice, no substance, and yet he heard them all the same.

"Please tell me what you mean, Future." Scrooge regained his courage, walking up to the spirit, "Was this not your doing? O-Or Past? Or Present? Surely I cannot be going mad. Prudence clearly saw them as well!"

The dog in question woofed in an agreement. Future only kept their peace, causing the old man to grow agitated.

"Now is not the time for silence!" He yelled out, "You need not tell me what is to come, only what in God's name is happening!"

Gift.

"Gift? What gift? Do you mean to tell me that I am the one causing this?" He pointed to himself to enunciate his words, "I am not a ghost yet, Future. I am but an old loaner, so how... how can I have such an ability?"

Visit.

Scrooge had to do a double-take to register their words, "You mean to say that your visits caused this awakening in me? But... I-I don't... please, I-I don't understand!"

He was visibly shaking now, overwhelmed with everything that just occurred. He collapsed to the ground, his breathing laboured with Prudence coming over to her master's side, sensing his distress.

"How...?"

"Perhaps it is time for me to step in, old friend."

Scrooge's head shot up as the air grew colder with each passing second. Ice formed all around him from floor to ceiling, though far less than before, and the former miser recognised this well.

"M-Marley...?"

Unlike the first encounter, the lockboxes and chains appeared much quicker, with the ghost of Jacob Marley floating down onto the freezing ground. But despite his former business partner's attempts to keep everything at a minimum, Scrooge's fear had resurfaced, the clinging and clanging of the chains and the scraping of the lockboxes echoing in his ears. He hid in the far wall of his office, curling up into a ball as waves of panic filled his system.

"Please... Please, Ebenezer. Do not fear me." Marley stated calmly, doing his best to placate his tortured soul. When Scrooge did not reply, he turned to Future with a silent plea in his coined eyes. Future merely gave a nod, and the lock that held his chains came undone and clattered to the floor, disappearing as they did so.

"Marley, please! D-Don't come any closer... I don't... those chains..."

"They are off for now, old friend. You are safe now." Marley floated over to him and reached out to him, watching as Scrooge came out of his guarded position. Prudence too moved over to him, licking his face to distract Scrooge for a few moments before he mustered up the courage to look at him.

"I'm so sorry, Ebenezer." The blue ghost looked down as best he could with what he had for eyes, "I never meant to give you this phobia. I merely wished to warn you, but I see now I have done much harm in the process."

Scrooge sniffled, wiping some tears that had pricked his eyes, "Don't... Don't apologise, Marley. I'm the one unable to overcome this silly fear of mine. Mayhap one day, I shall... but not yet. And certainly not now."

He looked at him, some sense of his former self returning, "But tell me: How are you here? Past had told me you were unable to visit our world the same way they can."

Marley rubbed the back of his head, "This is but a special case. Those in charge insisted I step in should you be unable to decipher Future's words. Which, I might add, were hardly legible to begin with!"

He glared at the robed ghost who all but looked away, causing Scrooge to crack a smile. Marley helped him off of the floor, leading him to his desk to which he sat upon. The ghost looked around, gazing upon his old books with a bittersweet expression as he spoke.

"Your queries were valid, Ebenezer, so I shall explain the truth to you." He turned back to Scrooge, who still seemed rather confused, "When you were visited by us two years ago, you had awakened a gift. A very special gift that none have had before you."

Scrooge's eyes widened as the cracks returned, showing all of the scenes he had witnessed during the ghosts' visit, including those of the future.

"Are you saying that I can see what was, what is, and what is yet to come, just as Past, Present and Future are able to?"

Marley merely nodded his head, "Not to the extent that they have, but yes. You are able to see glimpses of certain lives from before and now, but the future is yet to be set in stone. I am sure you recall the feast you held?"

He nodded back, clearly remembering seeing his ability in action.

Jenkins' store closed down. Now it was flourishing.

The charity unable to earn a single shilling. Now far more capable with his donations every Christmas.

Him sitting all alone. Soon to hold his grandnibling in his arms.

Tiny Tim's grave with a mourning Bob. Now recovered and happy.

He remembered each scene with vivid detail. Remembered how happy they made him feel. Marley smiled at his recognition.

"The future had changed due to your actions, showing that it was not set in stone."

Scrooge's reminiscence was cut short as he quickly remembered something else, "Then why did no one mention this to me? They had been recurring for a while during the whole thing."

Not shown.

He turned to Future, shocked at their sudden words, "You couldn't see them?"

His head whipped back around to Marley, "No, but they could sense it. All three of them could. But... we weren't sure until we sensed your visions just now."

Scrooge suddenly felt the cold metal of his pocket watch, taking it out to stare at it with pain in his eyes and grief in his heart, "So then... Isabel truly is not happy with Solomon. I had an inkling but I didn't wish to believe it."

He held his head in his hands once more, "I- no, we have been blind to her suffering. To her children's suffering! We all have! No one even knows that Isabel is married to him. I've been such a fool, thinking of my own selfish desire to have her back that I ignored her plight, just as I did before."

"You have a choice now, do you not?" Marley asked softly, placing a comforting hand on Scrooge's shoulder. "You can choose to continue living in the past and clinging to your own desires, or you can do something to help Isabel. You have the power to change things, Ebenezer. You can help save her and her children from the fate that awaits them."

Scrooge lifted his head from his hands, being reminded of that final vision. Isabel did not deserve to cry like that, especially when her own son was the cause. He stood from his place on the desk, a newfound sense of determination burning within his eyes that could scorch the ice around him if he could.

He turned to Future, his voice firm and focused, "Bring Present and Past. Teach me to control this power. Teach me so that Isabel and her children suffer no longer. Teach me so that no one else can suffer, so that I may be able to bring people the joy that they deserve."

And he was sure that under his robe, the mute ghost had a smile upon his lips.

#2022 scrooge #ebenezer scrooge #scrooge: a christmas carol #scrooge a christmas carol #Isabel fezziwig #Isabel/scrooge #scrooge/isabel #I GAVE SCROOGE MAGIC POWERS #WHO IS GONNA STOP ME!!

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mrdrhenwardhykle · 2 years

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What if Dragon's Lair was the first game to have a deaf and non-verbal protagonist and we just didn't know it?

#I thought about it once and now I can't disprove it #I mean think about it;#you can probably play the game without the audio #sometimes in the second game you have to ignore all the audio in order to focus on what's happening #He doesn't listen or answer people who are directly talking to him #he's the only character who doesn't speak in the second game #He doesn't seem to understand when people are shouting at him #He doesn't say actual words that often-but if he does he stammers or resorts to words that are basically just sounds like 'uh-oh' or 'wow!'#(not that stammering means anything-it just shows that he's unsure of himself)#Not to mention that he always screams and squeals in scenes where he's supposed to sneak and be quiet like he's not aware of himself #and his volume is what wakes Singe #Like I know it's likely not intended because of the first games budget reasons #but still #???#dragon's lair #deaf hc #dirk the daring

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mjolnir-steve · 3 years

Text

Foolish

Frank Adler x fem!Reader

Word count: 5027 (oop)

Warnings: light drinking, very brief mention of suicide, some cursing, smut (18+ ONLY!!!), unprotected sex (m/f) ... Please let me know if I missed anything!

A/N: Hi, y’all! Here’s my entry for @stargazingfangirl18 and @navybrat817’s Shameless Hoes for Chris Challenge!!!! I haven’t written smut in a LONG time, so please be gentle with me LOL. Here’s what I got:

Frank Adler

“I didn’t like the way he was looking at you.”

Breeding / mutual pining 🥴

I’d like to dedicate this to @rodrikstark for always sharing the Frank Adler feels and @sparkledfirecracker for bullying me (with love) into finishing this. ❤️

If you like this fic, please comment and reblog!!! I hope you enjoy. :)

Fridays never seemed to come soon enough. You looked forward to the beginning of the weekend as much as the next person, but over the last few months, Friday nights took on new meaning for you. You moved to the trailer park a little less than a year ago, wanting to buy a small place of your own and start making a home for yourself. It wasn’t perfect, but it wasn’t expensive, and it was only a ten-minute drive from your office where you’d just secured a promotion. Roberta, the manager, helped you make it feel like home right away, insisting on going with you to pick out paint samples and providing copies of menus for the best take-out in the area.

Before long, Roberta introduced you to the trailer park’s resident certified genius, Mary Adler. Mary and Roberta spent Saturday mornings with you when you were free, which unfortunately, was pretty much all the time. You played games, sang karaoke, and even let Mary’s one-eyed cat Fred come over. He took a liking to your swinging chair in the living room, and if Mary couldn’t find him at home, odds were he somehow squeezed through your window and ended up in that chair.

Another two months had passed, though, before you met Mary’s uncle and guardian, Frank. You came to learn that Mary stayed with Roberta every Friday night because “Frank needs time to be an adult” and she was not allowed to come back to the house until noon on Saturdays. This information made you feel like Frank must be some kind of sad, perpetual fuckboy. You were right about the sad part, not so much about the latter. One morning while Mary played with your watercolors, Roberta let slip - ironically over a cup of tea - that Frank did have the occasional hookup, but usually, he drank himself sleepy on Friday nights and just needed the time to himself. He worked himself to the bone as a boat mechanic, often late into the night because it was too hot to do some jobs during the day. Frank took Mary in when she was just a baby after his sister, her mother, tragically committed suicide. He spent the majority of his scarce free time with Mary, so when Mary was still a toddler, Roberta offered the Friday night deal. Frank countered that he would do any repairs in the trailer park for free, but she refused to let him do that work without pay, saying he deserved to have a life, too.

She also informed you that Frank was a former philosophy professor, single, and very attractive, especially if you were into the rugged thing. You rolled your eyes with an amused exhale and took another sip of your tea. You’d be lying if you said your interest wasn’t piqued. Mary then shouted over her shoulder, confirming that she’d been listening to your entire conversation, “Frank is great, but he’s a grump. Good luck cracking that egg.” You snorted, nearly spitting out your tea, and she went back to reading your color theory book to Fred.

With that, you heard a sharp rap at the door. You set your tea down on the kitchen table, curious who your visitor might be. You didn’t know anyone else in the trailer park, or in town, really. You opened the door, taking in the sight of possibly - no, definitely - the most handsome man you’d ever seen. You quickly guessed it was Frank, judging by the grease smeared on his quite large hands. His eyes, though tired, had the same bright look as Mary’s, and he had the most perfectly imperfect fluffy hair and overgrown stubble.

“Good morning,” he said with a sweet, closed-mouthed smile. “Is Mary here?”

You had to remind yourself to breathe. Stammering, you opened the door wider, gesturing inside. “Hi, y-yes. She is!” Why am I like this? “She’s just painting with Fred. Please, come in.” You moved aside so he could fit his broad shoulders through the doorframe and then held out your hand. “You must be Frank. I’m Y/N. Mary is just wonderful.” You smiled at him, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks.

He took your hand in both of his, gentler than you’d expected. “I’m sorry. Yes, I’m Frank. It’s great to meet you, finally.” He smiled wide for the first time and you were certain you’d pass out. Who LOOKS like this? “And thank you, she really is wonderful. I couldn’t do it without Roberta. She’s family.” He smiled and waved at Roberta, who was looking at you over the lip of her mug.

Mary didn’t even bother to turn around and face Frank. “What are you doing here, Frank? It’s only 11. I have a whole ‘nother hour with my friends.” You tried to keep your laugh quiet, covering your mouth with your hand and shaking your head.

“Well, excuse me for thinking you might like to go out on the boat with me this morning. I guess I’ll go by myself.”

Mary jumped up from the floor, scrambling to clean up your paints and books. “Can Y/N and Roberta come?”

Frank crouched down to meet Mary’s eyes. “Of course they can, if they’d like.” He looked back at you over his shoulder, trying to gauge your interest, then turning back to his niece. “But do you remember what I told you?”

You could see that Mary was making a conscious effort not to roll her eyes. “You told me that my adult friends have adult lives that include adult responsibilities, and they might not always be available to spend time with me.”

“And?” he looked at her expectantly.

“And I need to invite them to do things without assuming they will do them.” She couldn’t hold back her eye roll any longer, but she made sure not to let Frank see. “Roberta, Y/N, would you both like to join us on the boat today?”

You were amazed by the exchange taking place in front of you, able to see where some of Mary’s brains and tenacity came from. The conversation between the two flowed so easily, playful yet intelligent. It was clear that Frank treated Mary not as a child, but as a person, and you chided yourself internally for thinking that was kinda hot.

Shaking yourself out of your mildly inappropriate thoughts, you responded. “I’d love to come, Mary.” You smiled at her, bending over to help her pick up the last of the paints from the floor. “Roberta?”

Roberta gave you a look and you just knew she planned this somehow. “I actually do have some of those adult responsibilities to handle today, but thank you for inviting me.” You sent a glare in her direction, quick but no less scathing. “Maybe next time.” She winked at you before washing out her mug and saying her goodbyes.

You spent the whole rest of the day and night with Frank and Mary, doing everything from building sandcastles to cooking dinner together. Mary eventually fell asleep in your lap as you were watching Oliver & Company, Frank’s favorite Disney film that had become Mary’s, too. “An underrated classic,” they told you in unison.

You helped Frank put Mary to bed, a task made easier after such a tiring day. “I guess I should get going.” You stood awkwardly in the small kitchen, unsure of yourself and painfully aware of how close your hand was to Frank’s resting on the counter.

“Yeah, I have a job early in the morning.” He looked down at his shoes, unable to look you in the eye, and you wondered if he hadn’t found your company as enjoyable as you’d found his.

“Listen, I don’t know if you’ve been to Ferg’s? The little bar down the road? I go every Friday night just to relax and have a few beers. Maybe you’d like to come with me next weekend?”

Is he asking me on a date? You could feel your heartbeat racing. The look on your face must not have matched the excitement you felt at the prospect of spending time alone with the dreamy, kind, sarcastic man in front of you.

He felt like an idiot when you hesitated to answer. He clearly read everything wrong. He had to fix this. “It’s a good place to meet people, you know? I know you’re fairly new to the area, so if you’re looking for more local friends, it’s a good place to start.” He winced, hoping you couldn’t sense his embarrassment at thinking that you would want to go on a date with him.

You swallowed, trying not to let your disappointment show outwardly. Of course he’s not interested in me. Stupid. “Oh, yeah! That would be great, Frank. What time?”

Frank let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding, relieved that you didn’t seem offended by his offer. “How’s 7? I’ll pick you up? We can walk over together.”

And that’s how Fridays came to mean so much to you. Almost every Friday for the last six months, Frank met you at your door and you walked to Ferg’s together. Frank told you it would be a good place to make new friends, but you paid no mind to the other patrons. You only had eyes for each other, yet neither of you could see it, even though Roberta pointed out (repeatedly) that neither of you had taken anyone else home in all that time.

The more time you spent with Frank, the more certain you were that God was real and your life was His favorite trainwreck reality TV series. Even if you could have customized a dream man Build-A-Bear style, Frank still would blow your creation out of the water. He was smart and funny, not to mention an adoring parent to Mary, to whom you grew more attached each day. He was kind and thoughtful, talented and hard-working. Although he was a grouch, as Mary would say, he always was sweet to you. He took a genuine interest in anything you had to say, whether you were venting about work or filling him on the latest episode of whatever show you were binging. He was ridiculously sexy without even trying. All those hours he spent doing manual labor in the sun did wonders for his physique. You’d only seen him completely shirtless on one occasion, and the image of him with sweat dripping down his chest was burned into your memory, fueling your late-night thots and causing you to break out your vibrator on what was now a regular basis.

Six months had come and gone in the blink of an eye, and you’d begun to accept that Frank didn’t want to be anything more than friends with you. You decided tonight was as good a night as any to talk to someone new, to start letting go of your unrequited feelings.

You swapped out your usual jeans for a sundress, t-shirt bra for a push-up, and lip balm for lipstick. Putting your phone and some cash in a wristlet, you considered wearing your new strappy sandals. The walk to Ferg’s was about five minutes each way down a sandy road, though, and memories of the sticky floor inside aided your preferred pair of Converse in their victory for the night.

Just as you finished tying your shoes, you heard a knock at the door. You adjusted your cleavage and fluffed your hair a final time with one last look in the mirror. Here goes.

Frank felt like he had the wind knocked out of him in the best possible way. He suddenly felt entirely underdressed in his aloha shirt, even though it was his go-to for nights out of the house. He’d never seen you dressed so nicely when you weren’t going to work.

You were the kind of beautiful that didn’t require makeup. Your natural hair always framed your face perfectly, even if you didn’t think so. He thought you were adorable when you were concentrating on something, blowing your hair out of your face with a huff. Visions of your soft curves made their way into Frank’s dreams on more than one occasion. He had seen you in your swimsuit several times, sunbathing with Roberta and swimming with Mary at the beach. It wasn’t even all that revealing, but it accentuated your figure in ways that forced Frank into needing a cold shower or two. Above all, though, he admired your heart. You’d allowed Mary into your life without hesitation, spending time with her because you wanted to and allowing her to ask all those questions that Frank just wouldn’t be able to answer. It killed him that you didn’t see him the way he saw you, a perfect partner for him and a worthy maternal figure for Mary.

“Frank? You okay?” Your concerned voice shook him out of his thoughts, prompting him to close his mouth which apparently had opened wide in astonishment when you stood in the doorway.

“Yeah, um... You look…” He looked a little confused, his brow furrowed and lips pursed. “Why are you all dolled up? It’s only Ferg’s.” He wished he could’ve kicked himself in the teeth when your face fell at his question. He rubbed a hand over his face. “Shit. Let me try that again,” he nearly begged, running up to you to stop you from going back inside. “You look really nice, honey.” He ran his calloused hand up your forearm, but quickly returned it to his side when he realized what he’d done. “Is it a special occasion, though? Should I change?”

You gave him a watery smile, given that you were three seconds from slamming the door in his face and crying. “That’s better. Thank you.” You lightly pushed at his shoulder, trying and failing to ignore the electricity you felt at the contact. “No occasion, though. Just thought maybe it was about time I actually introduced myself to someone new.”

You couldn’t quite read his reaction. Little did you know he was certain he just felt his heart physically crack in his chest. “What do you mean?”

The two of you started walking, the tension between you thickening the very air you breathed. “Well, when you first invited me to Ferg’s, you said maybe I’d get to know some other people in the area, right? But we’re always with each other. I’m sure you’re itching to talk to someone other than me. I don’t want to hold you back.”

“Ah. Gotcha.” Frank abruptly reverted to the quiet, distant state he usually occupied before he met you. He sped up a bit, walking ahead of you and desperately attempting to school his features before you caught up with him.

Frank practically ran to the restroom, not slowing down even to hold the door open for you. You took a deep breath and rolled your shoulders, relaxing before entering the bar. Normally, whoever made it first would order drinks for you both, but Frank made it painfully clear that he had no desire to be in your company tonight. You ordered your usual, an Angry Orchard with a shot of Fireball in a tall glass. The combination tasted like apple cider, but the burn in your throat was caused by liquor rather than heat. It was strong enough to get you buzzed, but not so strong that you’d be stumbling home. You swallowed half the glass in one gulp, wanting to feel the warmth in your veins boosting your confidence as quickly as possible.

“Y/N? How are you?” You turned around, eyes meeting those of Jamie, your coworker. He leaned in for a hug and you accepted somewhat reluctantly, having interacted with him only in passing.

“Hey! I’m all right. What’s up?” You smiled at him, taking another sip of your drink. Jamie was not very subtly staring at your chest. You weren’t crazy about him, but the attention felt nice, so you allowed it.

“Not much. Just happy it’s Friday, ya know?” He looked around for a moment before returning his attention to you. “You’re usually here with that mechanic dude, right?”

You stifled a laugh thinking about how Frank would react if he heard himself referred to as “dude” by this prick. “Yeah, he’s around somewhere. We’re just-“

“-Just friends?” he finished for you with a hopeful look.

You nodded in response, looking him up and down. He was no Frank, but you couldn’t deny he was handsome. It had been so long since you’d even been kissed, and though you hated to admit it, you were touch-starved. One night couldn’t hurt, could it?

Meanwhile, Frank was splashing his face with cool water. He couldn’t believe he’d fucked up so royally. He was sure you didn’t want him how he wanted you, and now he was sure it was too late to tell you how he really felt.

He knew from the moment he saw you that he’d never get you out of his head. Roberta had been talking you up to Frank for weeks, but he wanted no part of it, mumbling something about there being “a reason why no one used matchmakers anymore.” He had no choice but to make your acquaintance when he was looking for Mary, and he’d never been so happy that Roberta could say she told him so.

Later that day at the beach, Mary approached him while you were dozing on a towel in the sand. She sat on his lap and reached for his face, using her pointer fingers to turn the straight line of his mouth up into a smile. “Roberta says you have a ‘charming’ smile, Frank. We think you should use it more.” He chuckled quietly, careful not to disturb you, and pulled Mary in close, planting a wet kiss on her cheek. She grimaced at the feeling, dramatically wiping at her face until he let her go back to reading with Fred.

The sound of the jukebox starting up cut short his reverie. He had to get out there and explain himself. Frank dried his face and hands with a paper towel before smacking his cheeks and stretching his neck back and forth to each shoulder.

Frank exited the restroom only to find some douchebag staring at your ass as you leaned over toward the bar. He saw red when the piece of shit held out his hand behind his back while his friend slipped a twenty-dollar bill into it, seemingly winning some sort of bet.

Jamie didn’t stand a chance when Frank stormed in between the two of you. “That’s IT,” he yelled, so intense he borderline bellowed. He threw whatever cash he had in his pocket on the bar to pay for your drinks before he pulled you outside, almost getting to your door while you fought against his grip. He only stopped when you spun your body around like something out of Dancing with the Stars and jumped in front of him, forcing him to catch you.

“Jesus Christ, Y/N, what are y-”

“-What are YOU doing, Frank? What the fuck was that?” You put your feet back down on the ground but remained facing him, arms crossed over your chest.

He groaned in frustration, suddenly realizing he actually had no clue how to respond. “Fuck.”

You looked at him, tapping your foot in anticipation.

“I didn’t like the way he was looking at you.” He rubbed at his temples in the way he did when he felt a headache coming on.

“And how was he looking at me, Frank? What does it matter to you?”

“He was looking at you like you were a piece of meat and I… FUCK!”

You both turned when your neighbor opened his window. “Can you kids keep it down out here?”

You waved bashfully at the old man. “Sorry, Mr. Parker,” you said in unison.

“Come inside, Frankie.” The nickname that typically made him roll his eyes at you never had sounded sweeter, now that its use confirmed you didn’t hate him for the scene he made. You both toed off your shoes at the door before you made your way into the living room, motioning for him to sit next to you on the couch when he tried to sit in the armchair across the room.

You leaned forward, pinching his chin between your thumb and forefinger. “Now what’s going on in that sun-damaged brain of yours?”

He let out a laugh so soft you almost missed it, but you were glad you didn’t. Sitting back against the arm of the couch, you pulled a pillow into your lap and hugged it, giving Frank your full attention.

Frank cleared his throat, doing his best to accept that it was now or never. “That guy was leering at you, and it pissed me off. You deserve better, Y/N.” He pried your fingers from where they were locked around the pillow to hold your hands in his.

“If you want to meet new people, that’s great. If you don’t want to be with me, that’s a little less great, but I’d understand. He didn’t even pay for your drinks. And I th-”

You covered his mouth with one of your hands, and he knitted his brows in confusion. “You’re making it sound like it’s an option to be with you.” You were in disbelief, side-eyeing him, waiting for Ashton Kutcher to announce that you were, in fact, being Punk’d.

The corners of his mouth lifted into the soft smile he reserved for you. It was the same one he gave you whether you were on a tangent about how “Obsessed” by Mariah Carey is “the single greatest diss track of all time” or you were helping Mary put a harness and leash on Fred “just to see how he’d do” on a walk.

“For a distinguished professor, you’re kind of a dummy, Frank.” You took his face in your hands, thrilled to be feeling his stubble against your palms. Before he could talk back to you, you kissed him, unsure how you denied yourselves such a simple yet extraordinary pleasure for so long. It only took a moment for him to relax into it, his hands removing the pillow between you before finding your waist and pulling you almost into his lap.

You deepened the kiss, threading your fingers through his hair. He pulled away first, pressing his forehead to yours. “Seems like we’re both dummies, huh?”

You were going to ask why pulled away until you looked down to see a considerable tent forming in the front of his jeans. You laughed as he pulled you into a tight hug, one arm wrapped around you while the other hand held your face against his neck.

You kissed the side of his neck softly before leaning back to look at him. “All this time? I thought you didn’t see me this way.” You held his face, stroking his cheeks with your thumbs. “You asked me to go to Ferg’s and then said I could meet other people, so I thought that was it, you know?”

He covered your hands with his and pecked your lips softly. “Honey, I thought it was the other way around. I was trying to ask you out and you looked like you’d seen a ghost.” You giggled, spluttering a bit because tears had started falling at some point. He wiped your tears away before swiping his thumb over your bottom lip, pulling it down a bit. “We’re fools, aren’t we?”

You nodded slowly and Frank saw something wicked flash in your eyes before you took his thumb in your mouth, sucking lightly. “Jesus, honey.” His length hardened underneath you and you could feel the wetness beginning to pool in your panties, prompting you to grind down into his lap.

You released his thumb from your mouth, pressing your chest into his before kissing him again. “I think we’re only fools if we don’t take advantage of the rest of your adult time.” You removed your dress easily, returning your hands to Frank’s shoulders to push off his shirt.

He surged forward to kiss you again, working magic with his tongue against yours. You wrapped your legs around his waist and he picked you up, walking you into the bedroom. Placing you on the bed carefully, he removed your bra and panties before pulling off his boxers and jeans in one go. You thought you wanted him before, but now that you could see everything he’d been hiding under his baggy clothes, you didn’t see how you could ever let him leave your bedroom.

The next few minutes were spent exploring each other’s mouths while Frank stretched you with his fingers. You didn’t think you’d ever been so wet in your life and thought you might pass out if you didn’t feel him inside you immediately. You gave his cock a few strokes before sliding his head through your folds, coating him in your slick.

“Waitwaitwait, honey. Do you have a condom?”

“You don’t need one if you don’t want one. It’s okay.”

He looked like you just gave him tomorrow’s winning lotto numbers, taking a deep breath to steady himself before he looked at you again. “Oh, God. Are you sure?”

“Mhm. I wanna feel you. Make me yours?”

“Anything you want, honey, but if you change your mind, just tell me, okay?” He lined himself up, seconds shy of entering you for the first time.

“I figured if you were gonna be possessive of me tonight, you might as well take it the whole nine, Frankie.” You laughed as he let out an exasperated sigh. “Seriously, though, I’m clean, I’m on the pill, and I’ve wanted you for a long time.” You reached up to scratch lightly through his chest hair.

“The only thing I wanna hear right now is you moaning for me.” He drove into you harshly, but waited a moment for you to adjust once he was seated to the hilt. “So damn wet and tight for me, honey. You’re so perfect, so beautiful.” He kissed you again before he began to move, slowly but surely making you lose your mind.

He dipped his head down to take one nipple in his mouth, then the other, effectively shutting you up and emptying all thoughts from your head. He nipped at the swell of your breast, soothing the bite with his tongue. “Fuck, Frank, please!”

“Please what, honey?” He picked up his pace, fucking into you so vigorously you moved up the bed. “Tell me what you need.”

“Make me cum, Frank. Please, baby, I need it. Need you,” you cried, leaning up to bite into his shoulder, stifling your moans.

“I wanna hear you, Y/N. I wanna hear those pretty moans while I’m making this perfect pussy cum for me.” The combination of his filthy words and the sight of him sucking on his own fingers before rubbing at your clit sent you over the edge, making you scream his name over and over again for what felt like forever and not long enough.

You could tell he was close, his hips stuttering and losing their rhythm. He began to pull out, unsure if you were willing to let him finish inside you, but knowing he was too close to wait for an answer.

You hooked your legs around his waist and pulled him close, pushing him back into you. “Fill me up, Frank. I wanna feel all of you. Please give it to me,” you whimpered. His release triggered another for you, chanting each other’s names surely loud enough for the neighbors to hear.

He stayed inside you as you both came down from your shared high, gingerly flipping you over so he laid on his back with you on his chest. He kissed the top of your head, fingers fluttering up and down your sides.

“What’s on your mind now, Frankie?” You looked up at him through your lashes, mildly terrified of the answer.

He looked down at you with the most adoration you’d ever seen, lifting your chin so your eyes met his in the moonlight. “That wasn’t too soon, was it? You mean so much to me and to Mary. I don’t wanna mess this up. I don’t ever wanna hurt you. You’re the best thing in my life besides Mary, you know that?”

You kissed his chest before looking back up at him, smiling. “First of all, I would argue that wasn’t soon enough.” He hissed as you clenched around his still softening cock inside you.

“You’re evil.”

Winking at him, you continued tracing patterns on his chest with your fingers. “Second, that all kinda sounds like you might be in love with me, Frank Adler.”

His hands stopped moving for a second before he responded. “Would you run away if I said I am?”

“Well, I wouldn’t run away. This is my house.” You thought your heart might explode in your chest.

“I didn’t even say it, but I take it back,” he huffed, throwing his arm over his eyes.

“What if I told you I felt the same way?”

He grinned, sitting up to kiss you feverishly on your cheeks, the tip of your nose, and finally your lips. You could feel him starting to harden again inside you, leading to round two of… well, you lost count.

You ate breakfast and showered together in time for Frank to return home before Mary did, agreeing to talk more later and to hold out on Roberta for a while.

Frank stood on your doorstep, leaning in to kiss you once more. All of a sudden, you heard a familiar meow and thanked God you were dressed and not in your robe.

“Frank, what are you doing here? I thought I’d come see Y/N since I’m not supposed to come home until noon.”

You bit your tongue to keep from cackling. Frank ran a hand over his face, his blissful bubble burst. He was getting you a hotel room next weekend.

#shamelesshoesforchris2021 #maggie's writing #frank adler #frank adler x fem!reader #frank adler fluff #frank adler smut

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thewritetofreespeech · 3 years

Note

I don't know if you've done this before :( but could you maybe write about the Obey me brothers after an argument with MC?? Like a fight make up kind of situation??

400 years later.....

Well, maybe not that long, but certainly long enough. I'm sorry >.<. Hope this doesn't put you off on sending other things because I did like doing this one!

Obey me Brothers + MC After a Fight

Lucifer

It was late into the evening when you heard the knock at your door. Before you could ask who it was, you heard the even timber of Lucifer’s voice behind the door. “[Y/N], it’s me. May I come in?” There was a long pause than usual between his introduction and question, seeming to debate asking, or your response, before he asked it.

To be honest, he had a right to be cautious because you weren’t sure what your answer would be before you opened your mouth. “Yes. Come in.”

The heavy door opened and Lucifer stepped in. Prim and as well stationed as ever, but the confidence normally in his face diminished just the slightest. “I…came to apologize.” The words seem to want to drag out of his throat. Like it’s the hardest thing he’s ever had to say. Not the best start for an apology.

“You didn’t have to treat me that way.” You tell him. Telling you like a child in front of everyone. Getting your hand smacked for something you didn’t even do. No coming to give some lack luster, dutiful apology he doesn’t mean. “And don’t say your sorry if you’re not.”

“I am sorry.” Lucifer insisted, before he took a deep breath and tried to relax. “You’re right. I shouldn’t have embarrassed you like that in front of everyone. I was upset, and took it out on you. Sometimes you’re an easy target because I know you’ll care for me no matter what I do. We always hurt most the ones we love.” Your cheeks tint at the comment. Damn him and his suave words.

The demon makes the effort to cross the threshold and take your hands. “Please know that I am truly sorry for my behavior. I will strive to never make you feel foolish, or less than, again. My mission in life now is to show you how much more than I find you over everyone else.”

You roll your eyes a little at the comment. “Let’s not get carried away. You’re starting to sound like Asmo.”

You giggle when Lucifer gave a forced, disgusted shutter. He then lifted your hands to his lips and gave them a kiss. “Am I forgiven?” He asked.

“I suppose.” Annoyingly, he was right. You would always care for, and love him, so it was hard to stay mad at him for long.

“Good,” he said, with his usual prideful smile, “I’m glad. I do plan to still make it up to you though. So make no plans for Saturday.”

“Will do.” You agreed. Giving him a tiny salute. He then left to let you finish getting ready for bed. Ideas of how he’d ‘make it up to you’ swirling in your head.

Mammon

There was a sharp rap at your door that rung out clear in your room over your headphones. You were curious who was here at this hour, but got up to go answer the door before the tried again.

You open the door and are immediately confronted with a bundle of flowers being shoved in your face. Almost to the point of the blooms bursting against your cheeks. You stagger, at the afront of color, and the bouquet is pulled back slightly to reveal Mammon behind them. “I…bought you these flowers. To say I’m sorry.” The more he talked the more his voice trailed off. His normally confidence draining like the color from his face.

“Isn’t it rather cliché to buy someone flowers to apologize?”

Mammon flinched at your criticism. “I didn’t know what else to do. If you don’t like them I’ll buy you something else. Anything you want! Just please…talk to me.” Please forgive me, was what he was really saying.

You look at the demon for a moment. His defeated stance not fitting into his character at all. Ironic, since the fight was about Mammon being too full of himself. Confidence was one thing, but ever now and then it was too much, and when you tried to talk to him about it he turned on you. He had immediately regretted it, but you refused to talk to him for several days after to cool off.

Apparently, that was the worse punishment he could think of.

“You don’t need to buy me anything Mammon. I’ve already forgiven you.”

“Really??” He asked. Seeming unsure of what he’d heard or that he could trust you.

“Really.” You repeat, and immediate find yourself in his arms. Your flowers falling to the floor as he hugged you.

“Thank you [Y/N]! I’ll never do anything stupid like that again! I promise!”

“Well now, let’s not make promises we can’t keep.” You tease. Patting his back. “We all make mistakes Mammon. I’ll be angry with you sometimes, but I generally forgive you. How can I stay mad at my ‘First Man’ for long?” His hold on you tightened a little. It lingered for a moment longer before he let you go.

“Yeah. Right. Don’t you forget it.”

Levi

You were getting ready to head downstairs when there was a knock at your door. It was a surprise, since you were going down to meet everyone. So who was up here now? You open the door and find everyone’s favorite otaku, out of his hole and in front of your door, staring at you.

“Y-Y-You…You weren’t answering my texts.” Levi finally got out.

“That should have been a hint.” You tell him. Perhaps a bit more curt than need be.

The bluenette straightened in alarm before his shoulder slumped again. “I know. I’m sorry! But I couldn’t stand the thought of you being mad at me! I know I can get a little…-“crazy?” You interjected –“excited about my games and stuff, but I really didn’t mean to snap at you!”

The two of you had been playing some new quest game that was all the rage apparently on the deep otaku net. Supposedly it was unbeatable. No one had actually ever seen the final boss ending yet. Which of course meant Levi was determined to be the first. Confident that his eons of experience wouldn’t lead him astray.

Sadly, the legends of the unbeatable game were true. And after hour after hour of crushing defeat Levi snapped and took it out on you. He’s locked himself in his room after. Ashamed, and upset that he hurt you; if his texts were anything to go off of.

“I threw the game away and I’ll never play it again. I promise! I’ll never go all rage beast mode on you again as long as I live! Just please forgive me and talk to me again!”

“Oh Levi, it’s not that serious.” You insist as you reach out your hand to his clasped ones in front of you. Reassuring him. “We all get a little crazy when things don’t go our way. I forgive you. In the future lets try to play games that are a little less….taxing on our relationship, if we can manage.”

“R-R-R! Relationship!” Levi stammered. Turning bright red in front of you, which made you giggle. You lean in to give him a kiss on the cheek. Really frying his circuits. Maybe it was a little bit out of you missing Levi when you were fighting. And maybe it was also his ‘punishment’ for the fight as well.

Satan

Tucking into your homework for the evening, you look up from your desk when there was a knock at the door. It was sharp, to the point. You immediately knew who it was, and debated not answering. However, that would be rude and a level of pettiness not even you could manage.

“Hello Satan,” you greet when you open the door. Correct in guessing who was there. “How can I help you?”

The blonde seemed wounded by your formality, usually such a champion of manners. But he was a clever man and knew you were doing it to put some distance between you. “I came to apologize.”

“As you should.” Ok. Maybe you were a little pettier than you like to admit.

“You’re right, and I should have been here sooner. I was just….embarrassed.” Satan ran his fingers through his hair. “He just makes me so angry sometimes! Being so high and mighty. Bossing us around. I try to keep it under control but….I can’t.” Given he is the Avatar of Wrath, it’s a wonder he made any effort to keep his rage in check. Everyone says he was getting better though. Even his relationship with Lucifer was getting better; even with this spat. “It pains me more than I can tell you to know that I upset you in the process. Turning on you like that like an idiot when you were only trying to help. It was so stupid.”

“It wasn’t very like you.” You admit, and Satan gave a single, bitter scoff.

“Maybe not now. Maybe with you.” Cautiously he reached out his hand to take yours in a gentle hold. “But I am sorry. Please know that I’ll strive to not let my anger get the better of me again.”

“I’m sure you will.” You said. Squeezing his hand back. “And, I forgive you. I should know by now not to get involved with any of your fights. But I care about you all so much.”

“But you care about me most, yes?” He asked with a soft smile. To which you giggle and kiss his cheek.

“Yes. I care for you most.”

Asmo

It was late afternoon when you heard the knock at your door. Typically, everyone was off doing their own activities at this hour, so it was a surprise to have someone looking for you. You open the door cheerfully at first, but then frowned. “Oh. Hello Asmo.”

“Hello [Y/N]-kun.” Asmo greeted brightly, but you could tell it was forced. “I…wanted to come see you. To apologize. For acting so ugly earlier.”

It’s not often that Asmo lost his temper. He usually left that to his silly, older brothers. Rising above in dignified beauty, as he liked to put it. But every now and then it got the best of him, and his tongue was sharper than any knife in the draw when he got that way.

“What you said really hurt Asmo.”

“I know,” he admitted frowning. “I haven’t been able to sleep all night thinking about it. Look at these bags!” You frown as he pointed to his under eyes, and he realized he was being selfish again. “I’m sorry I said such awful things the other day. I don’t have an excuse or fix for it. Except to say that I’m sorry, and I hope you forgive me.”

You let out a soft sigh at his words. He did seem sincere. It was a little odd to see Asmo so down. “Alright, I forgive you.” The demon immediately perked up with his usual smile and took your hands in his.

“Thank you [Y/N]! Let me take you out shopping, as a further apology. I’ll buy you anything you like!”

“So we’ve resorted to bribery now?” Asmo giggled at your joke and you nod. “I’ll right. I guess it wouldn’t hurt to get out. Anything I want?” Asmo nodded and made some suggestions on what you could spend his money on as you walked. Inevitably ending up on lingerie, which earned him a smack.

Beel

You had just gotten back from class when you heard the knock at the door. It startled you. You had only just gotten back a moment ago, so what remarkably good timing.

You finish taking off your uniform jacket before you open the door. Startled, yet again, to find Beel behind it. “Beel?”

“Hi [Y/N].”

An awkward silence filled the space, one that hadn’t been there since you first arrived in the Devildom, before you spoke. “I uh…was going to change. I just got back from class.”

“I know. I waited for you to come back.” The red head confessed. Nervously scratching the back of his head. “I wanted…to talk. I wanted to apologize.”

“You don’t have anything to apologize for.” You reply. Now nervously scratching the back of your head as well. “If anything I should apologize.”

Beel was so sweet and kind. But sometimes, his ‘space cadet ways’ over anything that didn’t involve food or fitness was very hard to deal with. He’d forgotten you were supposed to meet, yet again, so when he showed up an hour late for your date yesterday you had given him an ear full. He’d been hurt, but took it. Now you just felt bad, like you had kicked a puppy, with it over.

“But I should have remembered. It’s not fair that I forgot when we were supposed to meet. Again.” He looked upset with himself and fidgeted with his hands. “I really am sorry I forgot. I don’t want you to think you’re not important or anything. I’m just dumb.”

“You’re not dumb!” You scold Beel. Not accepting him putting himself down like that. “Can’t we just agree that we’re both at fault. You should have remembered, but I shouldn’t have yelled at you either. Can’t we just….make up? I hate fighting with you.”

Beel smiled softly and leaned forward to give you a hug. “I hate fighting too. I think I’ll be ok if we both take blame. That seems fair.” He let you go and stepped back. Seeming back to his usual, easy going self already. “Do you want to do a make up date? If you’re free. I can take you to Madam Scream’s or we can go get Fire Iceies.”

You giggle and nod. “Sure. That would be wonderful.”

Belphie

It was so late at night when you heard the knock at your door that, initially, you thought you dreamt it.

Hearing it again, you woke up and threw on your robe over your pjs to go answer the door. Groggy, and a little concerned as to who could be here at this hour. Something must be wrong.

“Belphie?” You question in a whisper. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to see you.” He said. Remarkably less groggy than you were for a change. “I had to see you.”

“In the middle of the night?” You question. Getting more alert and annoyed at being woken up by him.

“Yes. I couldn’t sleep. Imagine that.” His fingers twirl at his long bangs while he looked down at the floor. “I came to apologize.”

“Apologize?” You repeat. Shocked, more than anything, that he was here to apologize. Not that he did deserve an apology to you, you just didn’t think he’d do it.

“Yes. To apologize. Can we make up now?”

“That’s it??” You remark after his ‘apology’. “You say you’re sorry like that and I’m just supposed to forgive you?”

“Yes. That’s how apologies work.”

“No it isn’t!” You snap. Louder than you wanted to with the late hour. You set your teeth and wheeze through them. You don’t want to start another fight. “You apologize because you feel bad about something and want to make it up to the person. It has to be sincere.”

“I am being sincere.” Belphie insisted. “This is sincere as I get.”

“Well it certainly doesn’t feel like it.” You reply. Crossing your arms.

It was Belphie’s turn to sigh at you. “Look. I’m not like Asmo or the others who are great with words. I came to apologize, and that’s it. I was wrong and I wanted to say I’m sorry. That’s the best I can do.”

“Why do you even want to say your sorry? If you don’t sound like you mean it.”

“Because I hate you being angry with me.” You blink in surprise at Belphie’s confession, and he sighed again. “I hate it. I hate not talking to you. I don’t care what anyone else thinks of me, but if you hate me, I can’t stand it. So, I came to apologize. To do anything so you wouldn’t hate me anymore.”

You uncross your arms and scrunch your lips a little bit. “That’s a better apology.” He looked back up at you with a questioning look. Seeming surprised that he had ‘done good’. “And, I don’t hate you. Just because I’m angry with you, for good reason, doesn’t mean I hate you. I could never hate you.”

The demon smiled softly. His expression tired, but hopeful. “Thanks [Y/N].”

“Now, we need to get back to bed. It is the middle of the night after all. And we have school.”

“Ok.” Belphie agreed. Then stepped into your room and made way to your bed.

“In your own room mister!”

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joonessence · 3 years

Text

The moon // pjm

⤷part of the In the cards series

pairing: jimin x fem oc

summary: It’s never-ending, what Jimin feels for you is constant and boundless. But you don’t know, you’ve never known, and Jimin thinks that’s okay. Until you find out and think that it’s not.

rating: M (18+)

tags: friends to lovers au, smut in the forms of tit play, oral (f receiving), dirty talk, kinda sub jimin but not for long, very slight possessive jimin (squint to see it), unprotected sex, very slight praise kink, creampie, cum eating, i hate doing the tags y’all i think this is it

wc: 4k

notes: this is part of my tarot cards series so the banner below is the spread for this specific fic, kinda lets you know what to expect

Jimin can’t help but to watch you from across the room. His eyes follow your movements as you lightly shove Jungkook, teasing him about something Jimin isn’t following, deciding that his attention was better spent looking at you. This isn’t the first time Jimin has lost himself in observing you, in fact, it happens more often than he’d care to admit. At first, Jimin tried to control it, quickly averting his eyes when he realized he was staring just a little too hard. But soon, Jimin found it impossible to look away from you.

See, when Jimin first met you all those years ago, he realized quickly that he’d have trouble getting you off his mind. The way you made his heart beat too fast and his palms get all sweaty were sure signs that he had it bad for you. He figured it would go away soon because it was just a small crush, nothing to worry about. But for Jimin, it never did seem to go away. When he was with you, he just wanted to be closer to you, ensuring he always had the chair beside you to get a front row seat to your radiant smile. When he was away from you, all he did was think about you and your pretty laugh.

Yeah, Jimin’s got it really bad for you.

He thought about confessing to you countless times. Confessing that he ached to be beside you always, that no matter what he did he just couldn’t seem to get you out of his head. God, he wanted to tell you so bad. And he’d get close to it too, pulling you aside, saying he needed to tell you something important. Only, when the time came for him to speak, nothing would come out and he’d find himself scrambling to make something up on the spot.

Although he wishes you knew how he felt about you, Jimin thinks it’s okay that you don’t know. He’s happy to be in your life regardless. Even if he doesn’t get to be the one who takes you out and takes you home and takes your clothes off. God, Jimin wants to take your clothes off.

“Isn’t that right, Jimin?” Your voice directed towards him pulls Jimin out of his thoughts that are quickly turning obscene. “I mean, you know Jungkook pretty well. Wouldn’t you agree?”

You’re looking at him with your eyes wide, waiting for him to agree with you. You’re wearing such a simple outfit but Jimin thinks you look so pretty like this, loose dark green t-shirt half tucked into your jeans and your baby hairs framing your face. Jimin flushes at your prolonged attention on him.

“S-sorry, I wasn’t really listening,” Jimin stammers, partly because he was still unsure of what you were asking him and partly because you just make him nervous.

Jimin’s heart pounds in his chest when you narrow your eyes at him like you’re suspicious of his answer. Just as you open your mouth, Jungkook interrupts, taking your attention off of Jimin. He sighs out a shaky breath. That was a close one, Jimin can’t let you catch him staring like that again.

You and Jungkook continue your playful bickering about God knows what. Jimin doesn’t care enough to start listening, probably wouldn’t even be able to hear the two of you over the sound of his own heart beating so loudly. Sighing, he gets up and steps out onto the balcony for some much needed air.

Hearing his distressed sigh, you and Jungkook’s eyes follow Jimin as he walks away, running his hand through his hair as he goes. You turn to Jungkook with a confused face, silently asking if he knew what was wrong.

“Ah, I don’t know, just ignore him,” Jungkook says, not looking you in the eye.

Jungkook’s a terrible, horrible liar, always has been; you see right through it.

“What is it, Jungkook? Is he upset with me?” You question.

Jungkook scoffs, only making you more confused. You motion for him to continue.

“Jimin likes you,” Jungkook says as if it’s common knowledge and then pauses. “A lot.”

You think your heart stops for a second, before you come to your senses and punch Jungkook in the arm for joking around when you’re not.

“Ow! What was that for?” Jungkook pouts and rubs his arm trying to alleviate the pain.

“Jungkook, seriously. Stop kidding. What’s wrong with him these days?”

“I just told you! He likes you!”

Jimin likes you? Since when? There’s no way, you of all people wouldn’t have figured that out if it was true. But, the thought of it makes your cheeks burn. You always saw Jimin like an angel, something beautiful that you could never be with. It was why you never said anything, figured you’d spare yourself the heartache because nothing but embarrassment would come out of it anyway.

Just then, Jimin walks back in, immediately turning into his and Jungkook’s shared kitchen. You stare at Jungkook with your eyes wide, hoping he might explain more of the details.

“You know what’s wrong now,” Jungkook leans closer to you so Jimin doesn’t hear and whisper-yells. “He’s like head over heels for you, he doesn’t shut up about you!”

“He’s never said anything to me! How can I know for sure?” You whisper-yell back.

“Oh, trust me, you should hear him when he—” Jungkook shuts up when Jimin walks around the corner, headed down the hallway to his room. Jungkook gives you a ‘say something!!’ look and for some reason you listen to him.

“Jimin!” You call out after him, still trying to figure out what to say next.

He turns to you, “Yeah? What’s up?”

Your brain races to find something to say, but comes up short.

“Uh—,” You start, just to fill the space.

“She wanted to know if you’d come over tonight! Right?” Jungkook fills in and turns to you, nodding his head slightly so that you’d get the hint.

“R-right!” You nod your head rapidly.

“She asked me too but I have plans tonight. But you should go!” Jungkook sounds just as nervous as you feel. Terrible, horrible liar.

Jimin looks at you, slightly unsure at the way you and Jungkook are acting but then you send him this smile. This smile, that makes Jimin remember all that is good and pure in this world and he’s sold on your offer.

“Sure, when should I come over?”

“Umm, around 5?” You say, then remember the mess that is your one bedroom apartment. “Actually, how’s 6?”

“6 is good, I’ll see you then,” Jimin smiles at you sweetly before turning to make his way to his room.

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. Jimin’s coming over. He likes you and he’s coming over. Once you hear the door to Jimin’s bedroom click shut, you turn to Jungkook frantically.

“What should I do?” You ask, panic evident in your voice.

“What do you mean ‘what should you do?’” Jungkook obviously doesn’t understand your current dilemma.

You groan at his obliviousness, “I mean, how should I act? Now that I know he likes me?”

“Well,” Jungkook starts, turning to face you fully. “You like him back don’t you?”

Your cheeks burn and you nod slowly. You’ve never told anyone about your feelings for Jimin, out of fear that he’d find out.

“Okay, good. Your next step is obvious. Seduce him.”

You choke on nothing at his suggestion, you want to punch him in the face for even saying that. “Jungkook, are you crazy? How would I even know what to do?” Your hands come up to your temples, rubbing to try and soothe the imminent headache coming your way.

“Jimin is so desperate for you, do anything,” Jungkook reassures you. “Just make a move on him, I’m tired of hearing him in the shower every night.”

Your eyes widen, “Wait wha—”

“I’m not explaining, now go clean your place before Jimin sees how messy you really are,” Jungkook stands, straightening his shirt. “And good luck! Don’t bring Jimin back till well past 11:30, okay?”

“I hate you,” You groan, standing up too to grab your things before saying goodbye and calling out “I’ll see you later!” to Jimin.

Hearing the front door shut, Jimin scrambles into Jungkook’s room where he finds him laying down.

“Oh my god, what now?” Jungkook opens one eye to look at Jimin.

“I can’t go, I won’t be able to control myself,” The words fall out of Jimin’s mouth so quickly Jungkook struggles to catch them.

“Relax. It’s gonna be fine,” Jungkook sits up, motioning for Jimin to sit down beside him.

“How can you be so sure?” Jimin’s voice wavers, he’s so nervous.

“Just trust me, hyung,” Jungkook rubs Jimin’s shoulder, comforting him as much as he could.

“Okay,” The crease in Jimin’s brow has eased a bit. “I guess I’ll go get ready.”

Jimin spends his time picking out his outfit and hating it, then picking out a different one and hating that one too. He messes with his hair, trying to figure out what would look best. Jimin can’t seem to decide on anything. All the while, he’s trying to figure out what he should talk to you about, if he should show up with a gift, maybe flowers? Jimin pops into Jungkook’s room every so often, asking him every question that comes to mind and Jungkook tells him over and over again that he’s overthinking it. Jimin knows he’s probably right; he just can’t calm down when it comes to you.

Being good friends with him and his friends, Jimin saw you quite frequently. He loved seeing you, hearing you laugh at stupid jokes that were being said. And as much as he loved seeing you, most of the time, Jimin tried not to be alone with you. You get Jimin all flustered, make his hands get clammy, he can barely get out complete sentences when it’s just you and him.

Jimin sends you an “i’m here” text when he parks his car and you come down to meet him. He sucks in a breath when he sees you wearing a light yellow dress that hits your mid-thigh.

“Hi, Jimin,” You rock back on your heels, waiting for him to answer.

“H-hey, thanks for inviting me.” Is Jimin still breathing, it doesn’t feel like he’s still breathing.

You wave your hand at his thanks, “Come on.”

You grab his arm and lead him to the elevator, pushing the button to the fourth floor. Jimin’s still unsure if he’s breathing or not, but he has to say it.

“You look nice.” Your smile at his compliment practically blinds Jimin. “P-pretty.”

Your cheeks flame. Yeah, you dressed hoping he would like it but that didn’t mean you were expecting to hear him say it.

“T-thanks,” You bite your cheek and look down, praying Jimin doesn’t see just how red you’ve become.

The rest of the ride up is silent, save for Jimin tapping his fingers on the railing, trying to ease his nerves. You don’t have to lead Jimin to your apartment, he knows which one it is, having visited with Jungkook plenty of times. You fumble with your keys, hands shaking slightly at the idea of you and Jimin being alone.

“I got us some snacks,” You say as you open the door and direct him to the small coffee table that has bags of chocolate and candies and chips piled up.

“That’s… a lot of snacks,” Jimin turns to you and laughs softly.

“I wasn’t sure what to get, okay?” You mumble and turn to close the door (and to hide your, once again, flushed cheeks).

Jimin’s made his way to your living room, sitting on the floor with his back against the sofa. Taking a deep breath, you sit beside him reaching for the tv remote and handing it to Jimin.

Jimin doesn’t even remember what movie he picked. He keeps his eyes glued to the tv even though doesn’t like the movie because it’s better than losing himself in the way your crossed legs look in that dress. Doesn’t even want to think about how smooth your thighs would feel under his palms. Jimin is a weak, weak man, especially when it comes to you.

45 minutes into the movie Jimin picked you’re so uninterested in the movie you could die. You look over to Jimin, his eyes are unwavering from the tv, his hand stuck in the air with a chip in it, too busy to bring it up to his mouth. Even in his focused state he’s still the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen, lips puckered in confusion and his brows furrowed. You want to roll your eyes at him for not taking the perfect opportunity to say something to you. Leave it to yourself to make anything happen.

You slowly slide your hand across the short distance to his knee. You place it there lightly, feeling Jimin tense slightly underneath. His attention is now on your small hand, you can hear him gulp.

“Jimin,” you purr from beside him, squeezing his knee making him jolt. “Jungkook told me something today.”

Jimin gulps again, heart creating earthquakes inside his body. “W-what did he say?”

You turn your body towards him, sitting on your knees and sliding your hand just an inch higher. Jimin can’t make eye contact with you.

“Well, he told me something about you,”

Jimin’s breathing is shallow now, chest moving up and down quickly. You’re looking down at him with this look that makes him feel like he’s going to explode and Jimin thinks he probably will soon. Then you throw a leg over his lap, making yourself comfortable on his thighs and Jimin knows he’s going to combust.

“O-oh? W-what would that be?” He tries, really tries to sound cool, unaffected by your practically bare legs around him but fails.

Your clothed core against Jimin’s thigh provides instant relief to the pressure that had built up. You slide your hands up his toned chest, slinging your arms around his neck. Jimin flushes at your sudden closeness. He tries so hard not to ogle the way your tits squish together but the neckline of your dress is so low and Jimin can’t help it.

“Oh, come on, Jimin! I know you like me, know you wanna fuck me,” You say exasperatedly. “Jungkook told me!”

“He told you that?” Jimin looks horrified at Jungkook’s breach of trust.

“Well don’t you?” You cock your head to the side, baffled as to why he hasn’t pushed the skirt of your dress up to your waist by now.

Jimin carefully brings his hands to rest on your hips, still wary of the situation. Under his touch, your body feels like it’s on fire. You can feel your panties sticking to your soaking pussy. You move up Jimin’s thighs, your chest almost touching his.

“Don’t you, Jimin?” You repeat your question softly. “Just say it; I know you do.”

“F-fine. I like you,” Jimin blushes fiercely, mumbling under his breath. “Wanna fuck you. Can’t believe he told you.”

Your heart does twirls at Jimin’s confession. You duck your head down, trying to catch his eyes but he looks away.

“Jimin,” His name comes out so softly. “I like you too, you know.”

Jimin’s head shoots up, his eyes are wide and starting to water a bit. He’s wanted to hear you say those words for so long that maybe his mind is playing tricks on him. He couldn’t have heard you correctly, could he?

“R-really?” He asks so quietly, as if he says it any louder you might change your mind.

“Really,” You confirm, brushing your thumb against his soft cheek.

“Oh,” Jimin looks flustered now. “I didn’t know.”

“And now that you do?” You’re so close to begging him to just do something.

With his heart leaping, Jimin inches his face closer to yours. Jimin’s longed to know how your lips would feel for so long, they always look just so soft. He wants to know if they’re as soft as they look. His eyes flicker down to them, just in time to catch your tongue poking out to wet them. The sight makes Jimin surge forward, planting his lips on yours.

Jimin’s lips feel just like you imagined, plush and velvety against yours. His hand comes up to cup your cheek, tilting your head to the side. You want to savor your first kiss with him, really you do, but it seems your hips have a mind of their own when they move against the growing tent in Jimin’s pants. You can’t contain the whine that tumbles out of your mouth, much like Jimin can’t control the groan he lets out.

“Jimin,” It comes out muffled against his lips.

Jimin doesn’t dare to take his lips off yours, only letting out a low “hm?” in response.

It takes all your strength to pull away from him, but you're desperate to feel him touch you.

“Do you wanna take my dress off?” You ask, already pushing a strap down.

Jimin’s hand doesn’t move fast enough to push down the other strap making the dress fall slightly. He groans at the sight of the tops of your breast being exposed. His hands pull down the neckline of your dress, nipples pebbling as they are exposed to the cold air. His hands come up to cup them softly, just pressing the pads of his fingers into the flesh.

“Jimin,” You whine. “Do something.”

Leaning forward, Jimin licks a circle around your nipple, rolling the other between his thumb and index finger. The cry you let out is lewd and it’s music to Jimin’s ears. His tongue rubs over your nipple before he latches on it, sucking roughly. Your fingers tangle in the strands of Jimin’s hair, pushing him as close to you as possible.

“God, I love your tits,” Jimin confesses before moving to the other nipple.

You let out a pathetic moan, pushing your crotch down on Jimin’s, craving any kind of relief. Jimin moans around your nipple, sending vibrations throughout your body. He removes his mouth from you, leaning back and kneading your breasts with both hands. You flush under his intense gaze, hips still rocking back and forth.

“Can I taste you?” The obscenity of what he says and the politeness of Jimin’s voice don’t match up sending shivers down your spine.

“Y-yeah, please.”

You let Jimin guide you to the floor, placing a pillow under your head and another under your hips. He pulls the dress down your legs, setting it to the side with care. You giggle at that, it’s so Jimin, and he sends you a small smile. Between your legs, Jimin runs his palms up and down your thigh (they’re just as soft as he thought they would be). Leaning down, he kisses up your thigh to the band of your panties, placing soft kisses there too. Your body buzzes under Jimin’s lips.

“Gonna take this off,” Jimin murmurs against your skin.

He rolls them your legs, placing them aside, using the same care he did with the dress. You’d giggle again but the way Jimin’s taking in the sight of your dripping pussy clenching around nothing makes the giggle get caught in your throat.

“So pretty,” Jimin sounds in awe as he traces the puffy lips of your cunt.

His praise makes your face flush. His fingers trace lightly around you before he pushes forward and leaves a wet kiss on your fluttering clit.

“J-Jimin,” You gasp at the feeling of his tongue, taking short quick flicks against you.

He travels down to your clenching hole, licking a thick stripe all the way up to your clit, sucking harshly.

You sob loudly, closing your legs around Jimin’s head. His arms wrap around your thighs to keep them open.

“You taste so good,” Jimin divulges before continuing his attack on your clit.

His fingers probe lightly against your drenched core, dipping them in lightly before taking them out again. You push your hips down on his face, greedy for more of him. You can feel him smirk against you at your urgency. He pushes two fingers in slowly, waiting until you’ve gotten used to the stretch before pulling them out and shoving them back in. You throw your head back in ecstasy, calling out Jimin’s name.

“So wet for me, all for me,” Jimin says it like he can’t believe it.

His fingers scissor inside you, curling when he hears you moan loudly, his tongue still assaulting your clit. He can feel you tightening around him, your walls fluttering.

“Jimin,” You call out warningly. “I-I’m so close.”

“That’s good, baby,” He says proudly, speeding up the pace of his fingers.

“N-no, wanna cum around you,” It comes out of your mouth brokenly.

Jimin groans against your clit, sending another wail out of your mouth. You whine when he pulls his fingers out even though it was your doing. Jimin quickly rids himself of his jeans, the tightness of them was starting to get painful. He situates himself between your legs again, grabbing his cock and pumping it a few times before rubbing the tip against your folds.

“Jimin,” You plead, impatient to feel Jimin stretch you. “Please.”

Jimin pushes in slowly, letting out a whine when he can feel you stretch around him. You cling to his shoulders, making crescent marks with your fingernails.

“Y-you feel fucking amazing,” Jimin pants. “Holy shit.”

You moan loudly as Jimin starts driving his cock further inside you. Jimin’s lips find your neck, leaving wet kisses down the base.

“Feels so good, Jimin.”

Your hands tangle in his hair again, pulling at the roots causing Jimin to moan.

“Been waiting forever to fucking do this,” Jimin says between thrusts. “Don’t ever wanna fucking stop.”

“T-then don’t.”

Jimin’s rhythm speeds up, thrusting in and out of you roughly. With one hand beside your head steadying him, he reaches his other hand down to your clit, rubbing in circles with two fingers. The obscene squelching sound of your pussy and you and Jimin’s moan bounce off the walls.

“J-Jimin, I’m close, so f-fucking close,” You sob loudly, tears welling in your eyes.

“Kiss,” You reach out for Jimin, trying to pull him down to you. “Kiss me, please.”

Jimin obliges happily, smashing his swollen lips on yours. Your pussy clenches around him before your release gushes out. You see stars as your legs shake around him.

“Good girl, my good girl,” Jimin praises, still thrusting inside you, chasing his own release.

As you come down from your orgasm, Jimin’s trusts become sporadic, signalling to you that he’s close too.

“Cum inside, please.”

Jimin looks at you like he’s never heard something more pleasing. You watch his face crumple in bliss as he releases inside you, covering your walls in white.

Chest heaving, Jimin slumps forward, careful not to put all his weight on you, burying his face in the crook of your neck. You’re both sweaty and it might have felt gross to Jimin if this was someone else, but this was you and Jimin has loved you for so long.

When he catches his breath, he moves down your body to look at you. Jimin never wants to forget the way your pussy looks when his cum is dripping out of it. You whine at the sensitivity when he swipes his tongue against you, collecting your mixed arousal. He leans back up to kiss you, letting you taste him and yourself on his tongue. And that might have felt gross to you if this was someone else, but this was Jimin and you have loved for so long.

Jimin pulls away with a satisfied smile, laying down beside you.

“So, what did Jungkook tell you?”

You turn to him with a smirk on your face, “Told me you think about me in the shower.”

Jimin’s face turns redder than you’ve ever seen it.

“I’m gonna kill him, seriously.”

“Really?” You tease, tracing your finger on Jimin’s chest. “I think we should thank him.”

“You’re right,” Jimin concedes. “I’m gonna thank him and then kill him.”

#jimin smut #jimin fic #park jimin #jimin x reader #jimin x you #bts smut #pjm fic #bts pjm

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whumpzone · 3 years

Text

Linden & Colton - 18

(masterpost)

and so the slow process begins

CW: pet whump, dehumanisation, discussions of intelligence

Pet- Colton, Colton didn’t realise he’d been asleep until he woke up. He had dreamt of nothing. How he had slept after the stress of yesterday was beyond him.

He suddenly saw Master in his room, a place he’d never been before, stood in the corner waiting for him to wake up and face his punishment. He cried out, pulling himself up and raising his hands protectively.

But-

He blinked. It was a shadow. The gap between the old wardrobe and the wall. Tall, thin, quiet. Just like Master. But Col was alone and he let out a long breath.

Master had probably heard him yell, though. He’d be here soon. So Col wasted no time and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He turned back to tuck his little teddy bear Chu under the covers, where Colton felt it was safe, and headed out into the corridor. Here, he was fair game. He didn’t know why Master never entered his room, but he had stuck to it vigilantly so far. It only made Col feel more aware of his own vulnerability as soon as he stepped through the door.

Master was downstairs, doing a puzzle in the local newspaper, and he looked up as Colton approached. His face brightened into a smile, the biggest he’d ever seen. Master never smiled like that. Col had to fight against the urge to freeze or drop to his knees.

“Good morning, Col,” he said, showing all of his teeth.

Oh, god. Master wanted him to reply. He wanted words, now. He finally knew that Col had been hiding them all this time, and he wanted to delve in, find out how he could twist them and use them to stroke his own ego and entrench his slave’s subordination.

Or perhaps he just wanted to hear his Pet wish him a good morning for the first time. Stop fucking overthinking.

“Good morning,” he ducked his head in reverence, “Master.”

“Wow. I still can’t believe you can speak. I’m so- I’m so proud of you, Col.”

What? Why? “…Please forgive me for not speaking sooner.”

“It’s my fault,” he sighed, which made Col tense up even more. “I just- wow. Where to start? Well, come, sit, have breakfast with me. Cereal?”

He gestured at the box already on the table. Colton obediently sat and took it in his hand with almost no trouble. Master noticed, and nodded happily. He was certainly pleased. It still made Col very uneasy, but he did seem to be doing something right.

He had never heard Master speak in such an excited tone, before. But he was silent while Pet- Col- ugh- made himself his breakfast. He could feel Master’s eyes on him. He was allowed to take the first bite, and then the interrogation began. It was obvious Master had a lot of questions.

“So- okay, first, what made you speak, yesterday? I never asked.”

Colton chewed and swallowed. It helped his throat feel a little smoother, although it was still very rough from disuse. His voice was small and unsure. “You… I saw- I saw Jaffa. At the bottom of the stairs. But I didn’t mean to- I’m n-not accusing you of anything, I know you wouldn’t hurt her I just, I wasn’t sure if you had… seen her, Master.”

He flicked his eyes up to Master, to gage his response. He had just accused Master of being a bad pet owner. Of being neglectful of Jaffa. Master seemed to parse this information, and then smiled.

“She does blend in, doesn’t she? Too bloody well sometimes. I’m so glad you stopped me. And that was so, so kind of you Col. Well done.”

He just nodded, and turned his face away. He supposed…. Master saw it as him looking out for Jaffa, rather than undermining his intelligence. That was a lucky escape for him. He knew that with his old master, any sign of insubordination would have been swiftly beaten out of him.

“Colton,” Col looked up. Master looked scary. Why was he smiling that like? What was he thinking? Col didn’t feel any closer to understanding him. “I know this is new, and I know you’ve not spoken in months. I won’t make you do loads of it, okay? We can take it slowly.”

“Thank you, Master,” he hazarded, although he didn’t see why Master hadn’t just forced him to speak from day one, if he wanted it this badly.

“God, but it makes me realise, I know so little about you. And now- I can ask. And if you want, you can reply. I’m really happy.”

“There’s nothing to know, Master. I’m just a Pet,” he mumbled. The spoon faltered in his hand. Cutlery was still a challenge.

“I know you’ve got a busy brain in there,” Master pointed a slender finger at his slave’s head, to emphasise his point. “I know you’re bursting with thoughts and ideas.”

This made Col look up, properly. An accusation like that came with dire consequences. “No, n-n-no, I’m not, I promise, I exist to serve o-only, I’m just a dumb Pet. Yours to use as you please.” Spoken exactly as his old master had taught him. Well- he would have been belted for stammering. He was out of practice.

Should he kneel? Well, yes, he should, but was it right, when he knew Master liked him on the furniture? But, god, he had to prove his point, he couldn’t let Master think he was starting to rebel, or forget his place.

Bitterly, he thought about how he knew this would happen. This was why Pets didn’t speak.

“Whoa, okay, it’s okay. I didn’t mean to scare you. I just meant- you’re not stupid, are you? I can tell. And that’s a good thing.”

Col just stared at his hands. He wanted to pause time, step out of his body, and float away. Somewhere without any questions, or expectations, or constant riddles. He was stupid. He knew that much.

Master’s voice brought him back to reality. Glancing at him, Col saw his smile had grown even bigger. His skin prickled.

“I think you’re Welsh.”

“M-Master?”

“You definitely are. You’ve got an accent. You’re Welsh, Col. Wow, now I’m kind of sad. Like, how on earth did you end up here?”

What was he implying? “I’ve… always been a Pet,” Col tried, but it was clear he didn’t believe himself, and from the way Master’s eyebrow slowly raised, he didn’t believe him either.

Colton had always been dimly aware that there was an other him, who had taken up the before-time. He was the one whom his old master had had to train so effectively, he was the one who had all the bad thoughts and urges. Col knew he didn’t start as a Pet. Or else his old master wouldn’t have had to torture him like that for so long.

He was a ghost in Colton’s brain, and Col didn’t know if he was locked away or completely dead. Were parts of him still hiding somewhere, curled up in a place that old master couldn’t ever reach? Or had he been completely laid out and hacked to pieces, until only Col remained. Thinking about it made him want to burst into tears. Some nights, when his mind was loosened by sleep, he felt like he missed him so much.

. . .

Linden didn’t push it. He knew most Pets didn’t retain any memories from before their conditioning. He shouldn’t have asked, really. Just… the realisation that Col had a background, he had lived before becoming the trembling man before him, made Linden ache.

He still wanted to curl up whenever he thought about how long he left it before he realised Col could speak. He hadn’t wanted to push him, there were a myriad of ways he could have been made permanently mute, and he had pretty much fallen into a routine at this point. But the knowledge that all this time, Col was patiently waiting for the chance to talk, probably wondering why Linden wouldn’t let him- oh, christ. He was so embarrassed and ashamed.

He suddenly had so many questions all on the tip of his tongue, that he couldn’t think where to start. He also really didn’t want to bombard the poor boy. But still… just a few, surely, wouldn’t hurt?

“So obviously I’ve named you Colton, but, if you actually do have a name, please tell me. We can use that one instead.”

Colton shook his head. “My name before was- was Pet.”

“Pet?”

“Yes, Master. Or bitch, or, um, mutt. Or toy.”

He hid it well, but Linden could see the shame in Col’s face. At least that meant he realised how fucked up it was.

“Those aren’t fu- those aren’t names,” he growled. “That’s just plain cruel. You don’t deserve that. Do you like being Colton? It’s not too late to choose another name for yourself, love.”

Col waited until he had swallowed down another spoonful of cereal before he spoke. That seemed good, to Linden. He didn’t feel pressured to reply immediately.

“Colton is a nice name, Master. It’s not my place to have likes or dislikes but I, uh, I am happy with it.”

Another quick glance at his face. Linden was getting used to them by now. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Jaffa rolling around.

“Likes, dislikes, they’re fine. Don’t worry about that. But if you like the name, then it’s yours until you say otherwise. Oh, and- don’t worry about calling me Master. Honestly.”

Col stopped chewing, his shoulders hunching up suddenly. “I’m sorry, M-, uh, sir, sorry. I didn’t realise I shouldn’t, I’m sorry, I know- know that’s not an excuse. I’m sorry.”

“Hey, it’s okay, it’s okay,” he soothed. Sir was fine, he decided. From the way Colton had panicked, he didn’t want to push it any further. “You didn’t know.”

“Thank you, I’m- I’m sorry, sir.”

“You’re fine, you’re good. You’re doing great with talking, Col. I’ll put the kettle on.”

He had long learnt to pick his battles. Hearing Colton talk about being a toy to be used made him fucking sick, but he could tell that sentiment was deeply, deeply ingrained. He knew a recital when he heard one. Those weren’t his words. They were a tiny window into whoever had fucked him up like this.

. . .

Master was sir now, when Colton spoke. Col could learn that. But it didn’t change anything, right? Master still wanted him, didn’t he?

as usual, the first half of the taglist:

@newbornwhumperfly @whumpadump1939 @firewheeesky @whump-me-all-night-long @captainseconds @grizzlie70 @unicornscotty @lave-whump @princessofonward @cupcakes-and-pain @bumbumbea @whumpfigure @yet-another-heathen @secretwhumplair @whumps-up @as-a-matter-of-whump @getyourwhumphere @itzagoodthing @whumpymirages @soapparentlyilikewhumpnow @zipadeedooda-drabbles @penny-for-your-whump @briars7 @legallylibra @angel-stars @loyds-of-registry @tears-and-lilies @badluck990 @rosesareviolentlyread

@vickytokio @neuro-whump @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @whumpsy-daisies @control-whump @theydy-cringeworthy @starnight-whump @cursedandtired @jo-doe-seeking-inspo @justabitofwhump @glamrockgregory @rippedjeansandfadeddreams @genesissane @justbreakonme @addyez @httyd-chocolate

#linden and colton #pet whump #deconditioning

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