savage-rhi · 5 months ago
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Magenta 🤬
#my state is complaining about not having enough customers for psilocybin treatments#well as someone that heavily advocated for it to be legalized because of research and science lemme tell you why:#you gatekept your whole client base via outpricing them because you don't want to serve people with medium to low incomes#you only want rich people as your clients when the majority of people who could legitimately benefit from this treatment#are one paycheck away from homelessness or have to choose between an 800-1200 dose or buying groceries for the next month for their families#now look I get it you gotta get your cake and eat it too#but that's no excuse for isolating a large client base just because you're offended that poor people with mental health issues exist#if you want to keep this shit rolling and not have the state overturn anything#make it more accessible to people that truly need it and I'm telling you word of mouth travels fast#you'll get more clients more advocacy and more investment into research#by giving people an opportunity#and making them feel included in the process#thats what yall did when you started the petitions to get lawmakers to take the benefits seriously#so what changed?#what turned you into greedy cunts?#oh yeah money and again you're offended poor people exist#y'all know too folks will just go to a dealer they know and get it for cheaper right?#i mean whats the point in paying 3 to 5k for a special “retreat” where you pay an additional 1k to 2k for 3 doses#when johnny boy down the street can hook you up with 10 doses for 100 bucks and a bag of chips?#and btw guys wtf happened to all that money that was supposed to go to creating state of the art mental health clinics and facilities#when measure 110 got passed that decriminalized drugs?#no one has an answer???#hmmm#it's no wonder we are near dead last in mental health in this country#its like i said in the meeting: you guys love to profit off the suffering of others#magenta#magenta is my vent word
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Cherry.
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Synopsis - The lines of friendship get a little blurry, one unassuming Friday night in December.
Pairing - Bestfriend!Steve Harrington x Female Reader
Warnings - smut. cursing. steve's got an ego, but for good reason.
Age Rating - 18+
Word Count - 2k
Author's Note - hi lovelies!! my first steve fic!! listen, I actually really didn't enjoy stranger things, but... I love this man. he's charming and he's a softie and he's such a good character to write. hope you enjoy this - it's got me all warm and fuzzy. please feel free to send me a christmas request if you fancy, I'm in the mood to write some seasonal fics. much love, always!! <3
as always, reblogs are the only way to circulate my fics!! please, if you enjoyed, consider reblogging this so it gets further reach. comments and feedback are always appreciated!! thanks, angels. <3
Part Two. Part Three. Part Four. Masterlist. Inbox. The Moodboard. Series Masterlist.
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Three rocks ping off the panes of your bedroom window in quick succession.
You're applying your moisturiser in the mirror, winding down and almost ready for bed. Your reflection is illuminated by a faint glow from the fairy lights you've draped over the headboard for the festive season, warm and comforting. A soft, jazzy melody is drifting from the radio softly, a welcome noise to break up the silence.
Another rock hits your window.
You fly out of your seat and towards the source of the trouble, worried that he's going to throw one too hard one of these days.
"Steve," you hiss as you yank it open. "Cut it out. Just come through the door."
"Where's the fun in that?" he chuckles, eyes rife with mischief.
You roll your eyes but step back anyway, making room for him to climb the tree and dive through the window into your room.
"Hi, sugar."
"Hi, Steven."
He grins at you, bright and awake despite the late hour.
"Don't you have better plans on a Friday night, King Steve?"
"And miss out on seeing you in your little pink pyjamas? Absolutely not."
You shove at his chest, smacking him upside the head for good measure. He feigns pain and wraps his arms around your middle, picking you up off the ground and spinning you in circles. You shriek, and the sound makes him laugh.
"Okay, okay! I'm dizzy! Put me down!"
He obliges by throwing you unceremoniously onto your bed, smirking when you almost bounce off it.
"So," he begins, sitting down across from you. "How was it? Do you feel like a whole new woman?"
You scoff.
"What? That bad?"
"Yeah, that bad. We didn't even do it."
He quirks a brow in curiosity, tilting his head to look at you.
"I thought tonight was the big night?"
"Yeah, it was supposed to be. But he was kissing me, and it just didn't feel... right? He started grabbing at me and I realised that you can only lose your virginity once - and that definitely wasn't how I wanted to lose mine."
You shrug, trying to play indifference, but Steve can see the hurt in your eyes.
"You always deserved so much better than him."
"Thanks, Steve."
"Come on, Cherry. The guy is an asshole who happens to be attractive. His face is the only thing he's got going for him."
The mention of your childhood nickname has memories of fruit flavoured popsicles on summer days flooding back. Laughter by the pool, pushing Steve in and screeching when he dragged you with him, staying out in the sun until you were both exhausted. Cherry. You've always been Steve's Cherry, for as long as you can remember. You still wear the lip balm he bought you last year, fitting for your moniker.
"You didn't like him from the start. Actually, you've never liked any guy that has ever liked me."
"Because they're not good enough for you."
"Says who?"
"Says me."
"And you're the boss of me and my love life now?"
"I'm the person that knows you better than anyone in the entire world. I think I have a pretty good view on things."
You huff, but accept your defeat in knowing that he's right. No one knows you like him. Steve always does this. He pisses you off, but makes you love him a tiny bit more each time.
He grabs your foot from the bed, pressing his thumbs into your sole. You relax instantly, tired of half arguing with him.
"I give up."
"With what?"
"Dating. Fuck it."
He chuckles, rubbing soothing patterns into your ankle gently.
"You've barely even started."
"Ooo, sorry Mr Womaniser."
"Stop it," he chides, pinching your calf. "Maybe The One for you just isn't in Hawkins. This place has always been too small for us anyway."
"Yeah, maybe. It'll all change when we go to college, hopefully."
"Exactly. It'll be a whole different ball game. There'll be tonnes of hot guys begging for your attention."
"And you'll be fighting them off."
"Yes I will."
You laugh, poking him in the chest with your foot teasingly.
"And maybe the college guys will actually know what they're doing in bed."
"Hey, some of us do know!"
"Yeah yeah, Steve's good in bed. I've heard it all before."
"Don't be jealous, Cherry baby."
"Jealous isn't quite the word I'd use."
"No?"
He drops your foot and scoots closer, settling in between your parted legs.
"You're not even a little bit curious what all the rumours are about?"
"Steve," you laugh. "I think they're probably just exactly that. Rumours."
He inches in towards you, so his forehead is almost touching yours. Running his fingers up and down the outside of your thigh, he takes a deep breath in.
"You should let me show you just how much I know. We're not all clueless, Cherry. I'm confident I could make you feel good."
You exhale with a shudder.
"I'm not letting you take my virginity, Steve."
"I don't want to. There's a thousand ways I can make your legs shake without fucking you, baby."
You stare into his big doe eyes, admiring the way a single strand of hair has fallen across his forehead. You look for a shred of doubt, or amusement, but all you see is love. Admiration. Trust. Sincerity.
"Okay," you breathe, before your mind has truly processed what you're saying. "Show me what you got, Harrington."
He grins, slow and saccharine, like the cat who got the cream.
"Steve?" you whisper.
"Yeah?"
"This isn't going to fuck things up between us, is it?"
He smiles, big and bright.
"Never. Nothing is ever going to fuck things up between us. It's you and me forever, Cherry Pie."
You chuckle at the nickname, stroking his cheek with your thumb.
"Well, then what are you waiting for?"
He shakes his head and grabs your ankle, pulling you across the bed and into his body. Wrapping a hand around the back of your neck, he leans in, pressing his forehead to yours.
"If at any point this gets weird, or you don't like it... Just say the words, okay?"
"Okay," you breathe, inhaling the scent of mint from his tongue. "Promise."
"Can I kiss you?"
"You don't usually ask," you tease.
It's no secret that you and Steve have kissed a few times. Once after prom, once at a party here and there, once when you were cuddled in bed comforting him after a break up. But it's never led to anything more. Which is probably why this feels a little different.
"I know, but this is a little more... intense, than usual."
You try to ignore the way your heart swells at his consideration for you, and nod your head gently.
"Kiss me. Please."
Steve wastes no time, leaning in to press his lips to yours. He tastes like spearmint and soda, with a hint of the cherry lipbalm he steals from your nightstand. You instinctively shuffle closer to him, straddling his lap as his arms bracket themselves around you. It's like he can't decide where to put his hands - they're roaming up your back, squeezing your ass, kneading your thighs. He's antsy and impatient, eager to feel you.
"Lie back," he whispers against your mouth, tipping you onto the bed.
Your head hits your pillows and you crane your neck to watch him as he crawls down your body, eyes never leaving yours.
"Steve-"
"Stop thinking so hard, Cherry. I can practically hear your thoughts."
You huff but can't keep the smile off your face, willing your mind to stop racing.
"Let me quiet things down, hmm?"
Steve presses a gentle kiss to the inside of your knee, trailing up and up until he reaches your hip. He licks across your hipbone before nipping it with his teeth, smirking when you gasp.
Grasping the waistband of your pyjama shorts, he asks for permission with his eyes, no words needed. You nod and lift your hips, letting him slide them down your body.
You've never been so exposed, which is causing a sudden realisation that the two of you are crossing a line that can never be uncrossed. As if he can read your mind, Steve presses a kiss to the inside of your thigh, tender and full of love.
"Babe, if you want to stop..."
"I don't, I promise. I'm just nervous. I'm sorry."
"Don't apologise," he murmurs, resting his head on your thigh and looking up at you. "Never apologise. You're doing so good, Cherry. I love you."
You didn't know what you were expecting, but it wasn't I love you. You've both said it to each other a million times, but something about saying it in this exact moment makes it feel... weighted. You'll talk about it later. You'll make sure of it.
"I love you too. So much."
You're whispering, scared to ruin the peace you've created. Steve kisses your skin again gently, gazing at you like you've hung the stars just for him.
"Let me make you feel good, okay?"
When you nod, Steve nudges your core with his nose, arms wrapping around your thighs to keep you anchored in place.
"So pretty," he's mumbling. "Prettiest fuckin' girl I've ever seen."
He starts slow, easing you in carefully. Kitten licks and gentle nips, testing the waters. When you tangle a hand into his hair and tug, Steve gets the message.
"You want more, pretty baby?"
"Yes," you confirm, more breathless than intended. "Please."
He dives back in, this time with more intention. His nose keeps nudging your clit, the friction licking up your spine deliciously. It's like he can't get enough, eating you out like a man starved.
He groans into your heat, the vibrations making you whine. When he curls his tongue just right, you keen, the sounds leaving your mouth foreign to the both of you.
"Fuck, you sound so beautiful. You're perfect. God, you're perfect."
"Stevie," you pant. "So close."
"I got you. Atta girl, I got you. That's my girl, give it to me."
Maybe it's the my girl, or maybe it's the way he's slipped two fingers into you, but the coil snaps. Your back arches off the bed as white heat engulfs your body, vision going black for a moment. You can hear him talking you through it, loving and encouraging. Eventually, your grip on his hair loosens as you go lax, collapsing back against the comforter.
Steve grins at you as he licks his fingers clean, crawling up your body to kiss you. You groan when you taste yourself, arms wrapping around his shoulders to keep him close. Resting his head on your chest, you run your fingers through his hair, humming gently when he relaxes.
"You okay?"
"Never better," you laugh. "You're good with your mouth, Harrington. I'll give you that."
"Told you the rumours were true."
You shake your head and reach over, grabbing the glass of water from your nightstand and taking a sip. You offer it to Steve without a second thought, rolling your eyes when he downs the rest.
He plucks your cherry lipbalm from the drawer and applies it to himself, before leaning up to carefully do the same to you. He pecks your lips sweetly before returning it to its rightful place.
"You replace it, don't you?"
"Hmm?"
"The chapstick. I've had it for a whole year, and I've never even come close to reaching the end."
He blushes as he looks at you, suddenly bashful.
"It's special," he murmurs. "It's our thing, you know? And it smells good. I like knowing that I'm the only one who knows you taste like cherries."
You want to poke fun at him, say something to make him laugh. But you can't. He's rendered you speechless, for the second time in one night.
"I like knowing the reason you taste like spearmint is because I've been slipping pieces of gum into the pockets of your jeans for ten years."
"I knew it," he laughs, leaning up to kiss you firmly. "I can't tell you the last time I bought gum."
"You're welcome."
Steve shucks off his jeans and his shirt, climbing into your bed with just his boxers on. You slip your underwear up your legs before getting under the comforter with him, tangling your limbs with his.
The tunes from the radio still hum gently as the fairy lights flicker.
The room is unchanged.
The people in it are not.
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read Part Two here. Part Three here. Part Four here.
@lillian-gallows @bookish-embroidery-witch @sweetdazequeen @fruityforcocoapuffs @steviespookie @livsters @diffrent-spokes @violet2022 @mrsjoequinn @valerievortex @chrrymunson
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death---dealer · 5 months ago
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In A Hurry. ( Noa x Reader Oneshot. )
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Fuck I love angst don't even TOUCH ME with your eyes I'm in my feels.
Title: In a Hurry. Fandom: ( Kingdom of the ) Planet of the Apes. Pairing: Noa x (Human) Reader. Rating: T ( Mentions of blood, injury and potential death, tiny bit of language. ) Words: ( I have no idea how i swear this was supposed to be like 2K words AHHH ) Summary: Noa bargained. Maybe you were gone by choice but the idea lingered - Had you been injured?
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He knew the moment his green eyes looked at the sky, noticing the dip of the sun as it skirted its way along the horizon, that he had made a mistake. You were supposed to be back. He thought to himself, resting a spear head on the ground in front of him. He had been messing with it, scraping a piece of wood into a sharp point to dig into a hole that he suspected might be infested with bugs of the pesky nature after someone in passing had brought it up. He had been so oblivious to the passage of time, a foolish choice to make when you had left a few hours to go forge for some berries. It was hard to keep track of time though, especially when Noa had a front row seat to watch Soona and Anaya bicker. Today’s special was about Anaya- as it most usually was. Noa smiled at the familiarity before it quickly faded into oblivion at the existential thought. You were supposed to be back. 
You never went too far; never too far into the woods, knowing of the possibility of danger especially as an Echo, never ventured away from the Clan, from your home, your nest, your things… From… from Noa. He felt something surge inside of his chest that yelled at him to move his body. You were supposed to be back. Noa often went with you along with Soona and Anaya - An unbreakable bond began forming around the four of you. But, in those instances when Noa was unable to go, he would urge Soona, Anaya or even his Mother on occasion to go. At this point, his body was in movement, spine aching ever so slightly at the straight posture he was using to prepare his horse who greeted him with a joyous neigh., Noa wasn’t even sure how you convinced him to let you go alone, letting his mind drift to the conversation only three or so hours ago, when the sun was beginning a rather leisurely and slow decent as the afternoon had passed. It was definitely alluring what you asked of him, which was why he granted you to go alone, without accompaniment. You told him it was only for a short amount of time, letting your hand lightly grasp at his bicep in some Echo communication that physical touch would get your way. It often worked but Noa held on until you explained you wanted to get some berries for dinner, that you promised not to go too far, and that you would bring your spear with you to fend off any potential attacks. They seldom happened so close to the village, but they were not unheard of by any means. You wanted to go to get some space to yourself, you told him, Noa having to remind himself that it was indeed a regular Echo thing. To enjoy their own personal space. He never understood it, always having Anaya or Soona with him when you weren’t with him in most cases, and when he wasn’t with them, he was deep in thought, obsessing at his own ideas, his own improvements. At those moments, his thoughts became his friends and he was never really lonely.
Noa contemplated it, but essentially let you go to the mild fury of both his friends, like he wasn’t already uncomfortable enough letting you go without any of them.... Anaya, worried just as much that something could happen to you, even going as far as to tell Noa to just follow you at a distance; Noa had to shove aside the fact that he had the same train of thought earlier but following you could result in less trust in the relationship, Anaya was slightly receptive to that but stood his ground in telling Noa he should just follow. Soona, who obviously thought the same thing, but in her everlasting rationale to keep Noa somewhat grounded, nodded in understanding when Noa told her the reason you wanted to go alone. It wasn’t a slight at them, just one of those pesky Echo things. Personal space, they repeated to themselves over and over. 
His forehead pressed against your own as a departure, your hands full. One with a weaved basket, albeit a little janky as you had made it yourself and had yet to master the art, and one with your spear. He felt a sense of calm at that. You were not far; if you screamed, he most likely would be able to hear it and you had a weapon. You were not going far, he told himself over and over again and trailed around the village in search of something to bide his time until you returned.
In the distance it took him to travel from his spot to the horse paddock, both Anaya and Soona had joined. Noa left so abruptly, saying nothing to them and the haste of his movements spurred his friends to follow. He knew they were talking to each other, the flurry of signing and the some words hit Noa as Anaya had finally asked, “Where?” “Echo is… not back?” Soona asked.
It appeared the consensus was that you had returned and no one noticed. Noa would. Noa would always notice. Growling under his breath, he turned to both of them and said, “Stay here in case… She comes back,” He glanced over his shoulder, “Noa… will go. Look in the woods. Can’t be far.” He was just saying that to keep them calm. “Stay,” He told them again, “Could come back while away.”
Stupid Noa, the Ape scorned himself as his long arms grasped at the saddle of his horse and within seconds, in a graceful sweep, he was perched on top, Eagle Sun coming to affectionately rest on his shoulder. When Noa mounted his horse there was more than enough incentive for Eagle Sun to join along. He’d ride for a few moments before opting to fly. The bird chirped, twisting their tiny head to the side a few times. Noa raised his hand at that, pressing a finger to their beak. Eagle Sun then took off with purpose. Find you, and if he found you first, show Noa the way. You were not back. You were supposed to be back. Before dusk, before dinner. 
Maybe you got lost, Noa thought as he tightened his grip on the reins, kicking at the side of his steed and urging them to go. Faster than he had been for a while, thighs tightening their grip on the sides as he blasted away from the village in the general direction he had bid you goodbye to early in the day. He was snapping inside of his head; unkind notions at how stupid he was to let you go alone, he should have known better, should have never… Never let you convince him. But, what was he supposed to do? Another part of him shouted. Keep you there? Never let you out of his sight?! From experience, Noa knew that to be a bad thing. The tighter you hold onto things, sometimes the faster they slip away. He was so fearful of you thinking, assuming that he was smothering you by not giving you personal Echo space that he now drove himself to the brink of insanity for letting you do something alone. The dissolution he had in himself; the tugging of his emotions as his gaze flickered around the racing landscape on the back of his stallion. He felt like he was going to be physically sick at the notion that you were… Gone. But if anything, he hoped it was by choice. He could at least begin to cope with the idea that you chose to leave, maybe figuring out that your future with him, with the Eagle Clan was going to go nowhere. Noa could learn, albeit out of bitterness, how to live with that. On the other hand lingered the absolutely disgusting notion that you were gone because you were spotted, chased and hunted down by another Clan. That they had the audacity to make their way onto Eagle Clan land and rip you from him.
 His teeth fell together in his mouth, the primal impact sending a clattering noise through Noa’s ears. He knew how the others were, what they did to Echo’s. Chased them to the brink of exhaustion, tied them to the back of their horses and dragged them through the terrain until they were dead. He, Soona and Anaya had come upon remains, skeletons of the Echo’s that had that misfortune. Noa squeezed his eyes shut at that visual now running circles in his mind and tried to quiet down the battling nature of his turmoil. Instinctually, he pulled the reins of his horse back to slow down, now urging them to be quiet with a hand placed on their neck. He was breathing heavily, chest heaving with ripe anguish and he swore his lungs were filled with nothing but water because it felt like he was drowning, swimming through the air. He was frantic to jump from the horse, feet hitting the ground hard enough to send a vibration through his entire body, followed by his hands. He moved faster on all fours, if he heard you, if he just knew where you were he could run. Noa began scanning the area. Between trees, around foliage, behind tree trunks, around the usual areas Noa had been with you. He recognized the area all too well, a surge of saddened negligence hitting him like a wave of the ocean.
This was where you and he first really talked, taking in the Summer weather spewing through the trees above asn Anaya and Soona began a conversation about which berries to pick. Anaya wanted the red ones off to the right to which Soona promptly turned him down. They were poisonous. Where the two of you went to seek solace from the prying eyes of the Clan, always curious what Noa’s decision was going to be regarding you being there. This was where you first held each other, a tight embrace… Hug, he recalled the word fondly falling from your lips… The way your body pressed against his, the way he was so unsure of it before giving in, long arms wrapping around you in a similar fashion and pulling you in close, close… The laugh you gave him when he squeezed too tightly, not aware of his strength being incomprehensible to you. What if… Those things…were all the last time? He was always fast to crumble, fast to fall down and this was no exception as his emotions began to collapse just like the Echo ruins that surrounded the Eagle Clan. The last time Noa saw you, smiling graciously at him as you trail to the woods, the sum beaming down on you and drenching you in that quintessential summer time shine. The last time Noa touched you, his hand cupping the side of your face, foreheads grasping at each other out of clear desperation to be near. The last time he heard your voice, so delicate in nature as you assured him that nothing was going to happen to you, that you were going to be okay… You were not a liar, Noa knew this, but the bile rose in his throat at your words. So tender, so reassuring to him in the moment that they felt so out of place now. You were not back, you were gone. They were all gone. And you had promised him otherwise. It was obvious from scent alone that you had been in the area, Noa took gross solace in that as it hit his nose. He figured this was where you would come, being most familiar with the area, with previous knowledge of blackberry and blueberry bushes around. Slated green and gold eyes caught something on a few leaves to his right, his glancing almost too quick to pick it up on the first sweep. He had mistaken it for a berry at first, but that was very much not the case. It was red, for sure, but not the kind he wanted it to be. He watched it drop from one leaf, onto another before taking refuge in the puddle of vibrancy against the brown of the Earth. 
Blood. It was blood, and Noa scooted towards it, gravity taking hold on his actions rather than the usual conscious thought. He almost fell over, tangling his hands and feet in the dirt as he stopped dead in his tracks. It was more blood than he cared to admit and it smelled… Smelled like you, fragrant as usual, and all too familiar to Noa. it lingered uncomfortably though and it began to smell of iron. Fresh. It had to be, there was no way it would hold onto that without being spilled recently; at least in the last thirty or so minutes. The fur on his neck and shoulders were prickled, Noa found himself on the defense thinking about what your movements had to have been. What had to have happened. Were you found? Bludgeoned and then taken away? Did you fall and hurt yourself? You were prone to that Noa thought with a bitter laugh at how clumsy you were at times. Were you still in the area--- 
Your basket! He raced a few feet to the left, grasping it in his hands. There were contents inside, not many, but enough to put Noa in a whirl of relief for a second or two. You were here recently, he reminded himself again, setting the basket down on the ground after its brisk analysis. His mouth slacked open animalistically, eyes narrow with the metaphorical hunt. His hands and feet dug into the ground. He was focused, primed and ready. What was that? Noa’s head whipped to the left again. A sound. Not an animal he knew; not even that of Eagle Sun who must have been still searching for you; a true testament to how quickly Noa was to get to the area. He managed to beat his bird. There it was again! That sound caused him to raise his body and shuffle towards it. It was hard to deduce, but it was enough to give Noa a sense of what direction to take. Slightly to the east, right passed the blueberry bush that you had dubbed your favorite months ago due to the pure amount of berries you got in one picking. Noa looked at it almost tenderly, thinking about that as the leaves brushed against the side of his body as he clutched passed it. His eyes hardened, his mouth opened in defense, baring his canines to whatever was making the reverb that Noa was picking up on. It was either dangerous or not given the blood spotted. Given the basket that was abandoned. It could be another Ape, aggressive. The thought alone caused the fur all along Noa’s spine to spring to attention.  It was getting louder, more guttural that sound… Oh.
Oh, no. Oh, no, no, no.
The first thing Noa went for was your face. His hands were large, grasping at your head on each side, pulling it up from the rather awkward position it was hanging in as you had only managed to get yourself slightly propped up against a tree, at least that’s what Noa was able to put together. His first initial thought was that you were dead. You had to be, you couldn’t be, he was shouting at himself to pull it together but he couldn’t. The feeling of tears hit the back of his eyes at the very state you were in. 
There was blood on your face, he had smeared it artistically on his own hands before drawing his grasp downwards onto your chest. He left a barren red hand print there, accessing the skin of your sternum, hard with bone under his touch. Breathing, good, he took quick note of that, feeling the slower than usual pace of your heartbeat against the tips of his fingers. He tried to ignore the arrow that was jutting from your right shoulder with his movements, but it was brought to his attention when he minorly grazed it with his forearm after a feeble attempt to get you to sit up, sit closer to him. He wanted you near him, he needed you near him. As close as he could get so he could leverage himself up with you in his arms and get you back to his horse, back to the Clan… Arm under your knees, arm around the upper part of your body, careful around the arrow he had noticed, but enough for the Ape to help. He could pick you up with ease but stopped once he shifted to do just that. You groaned, eyes squeezing, instinctually, your hand raised and grasped at his forearm that was encased around your upper half.  Spurred by the hot sensation of pain rocketing through your entire being from just one simple move, Noa’s heart surged at the pure agony that came out of you. Okay, so… He couldn’t get you up. He couldn’t move you without causing more pain. “(Name)?” It felt strange to say still. Your name. It became such second nature in his mind but to say it…
Perpetual fear hit Noa but he tried his hardest to stay grounded, to put the pieces together. So. You were breathing, that was a plus. There was an arrow in your shoulder, not a plus. He was afraid to move you, another negative.  Not conscious to ask you any questions, your eyes were rolled back, only slightly open, another negative.. He figured you had no idea what was going on based on his call of your name and the lack of response, his eyes dropped down your body again, now laying in his arms lifeless, unwilling to give him a smile that he so needed now. Unable to say something sarcastic in that tone he loved to hear, unable to hold him in response…. Injury, he yelled inside of his head. Bad injury, he lingered, piercing his gaze into the arrow that had made its very home in your right shoulder. 
He gasped quietly at that, unfurling his hands against you before he dug his fingers right into you, protective in their stance. Noa finally noted the severity, no time to beat himself up over the immature idea to let you go alone for berries. He needed to do something about it. It was not a clean wound. The arrow went through, the arrow did not come out the other side of your shoulder, at least from what he could tell. He panicked, no idea what to do. Injuries were not his forte. They never were. He left them to the Village Elders who knew more about this, he left it to his Mother who soothed all his injuries growing up, even to this day he would occasionally ask for her assistance. “(Name.)” Noa’s voice was sharp, waving right around the edges in faltering resolve. He just needed you awake. Needed you to say something to him. Acknowledge him in any way or he felt he was going to lose it--- Lose you. “(Name).” Within a blink, Eagle Sun came to rest on Noa’s left shoulder. The bird was curious by nature, looking down at your body with beady eyes. Noa did the only thing he could process in that moment and that was to sign his bird to go get Anaya, Soona and his mother. He--- He couldn’t do this, couldn’t fathom being the one there to pull the arrow out of your shoulder. He’d make it worse, he’d hurt you, he’d make you hate him, he’d… He’d kill you… Noa didn't know what he would do then. He’d fall into ruin, destitute, unable to cope, unable to breathe with you… Without his mate, without his life and love and joy. 
He was--- God, he was weak. Never a leader like his Father, never a caring Ape like his Mother. He was… Weak… Green eyes bore a hole all along your expression, hopeful that maybe you were able to give him something in your teetering balance of unconsciousness as he moved the hand from under your knees out and upwards to cup the side of your face tenderly. He ignored the blood that he was putting against your skin and focused.  He needed to know what happened--- Needed to know who did this to you so he could tear their face from their body. Noa was beyond scared, now sensing the feeling of your blood against the fur of his upper body and his thigh where he was keeping you pressed against him. He was so scared, taking a few moments to tilt his head back in a bargain. He’d do anything you asked of him, anything at all, if you pulled a rabbit out of the hat. If your injury was not as severe as it appeared to be. Noa had a hard time really telling - Maybe it wasn’t as bad, maybe it was worse. He had no visible way to tell anymore. Eagle Sun’s squawk came to hit him, finally for once, Noa found it to be a good sound, often finding it rather annoying when the bird would bother him when he was deep in his own introspective. Good, good…. Anaya, Soona, Dar… They could help him. He needed them to help him. You’re so weak, Noa. He knew that. He knew that so well and watched helplessly as Soona and Dar took you away from him, resting you flat on your back and examining. They made a choice in silence. The arrow had to come out. It took Anaya to push him back as it happened, to keep Noa from absolutely crashing into his mother and Soona, to beg them to stop and that you were in more pain than he could bear. The screams that emitted from you were enough to give Noa nightmares for the rest of his life. 
●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・●・○・
Minutes… Turned into hours… Which in turn gave Noa a full day of complete and utter shattered silence as he watched over you, your soft breathing that would rise and fall consistently, your twitching and muttering in what he hoped were good dreams. Or maybe, you weren’t dreaming at all and it was just a void… Noa tried to not focus on that, focus on how lonely and desolate it sounded. Dar, his Mother, had told him you’d survive. It was good when Noa found you, you had lost a lot of blood at that point, but good none-the-less. While her words were always reassuring to Noa, he took no solace in them this time around.
He couldn’t- not when the reasoning behind you laying so gently in the nest you shared with Noa was due to his absolute absurdity and poor judgment. You moaned in reaction to his fingers as they lightly placed themselves on the side of your face- Only fleetingly, Noa had to talk himself down from it. You were able to sense him, but you had yet to stir awake for him. That, he suspected, was due to a bump on the head, mentioned to him by his Mother. How… how small and fragile Echo’s bodies were… How even the smallest of injuries, a bump to the head, could cause unfiltered waves of unconsciousness. Noa felt sick again suddenly, replaying what must have happened to you in the woods. The sensation of isolation smothering all of his senses. Had you sustained a mild head injury from a fall? Were you struck by some outside force? He had no idea of knowing, but the obvious scramble was evident at the scene. You straggled, you crawled your way to the tree trunk after the arrow struck you, seeping your blood all along the floor of the woods and propped yourself up as best you could before the cold wash of oblivion must have taken you downwards. He could almost vividly see your hand marks on the tree trunk. You must have attempted to stagger to your feet but couldn’t--- Noa swallowed hard at that. You were just trying to survive, trying to get home. He’d find himself brushing his fingers along your body, anywhere he could, every few minutes just so you were aware that he was there. Much like before, his hand reached out and instead of your face, he lightly rested it against your uninjured shoulder, bare to his eyes as you had been stripped of your upper body clothing, well… More or less, your sweater and under-shirt were ripped off by Soona to get a better view at what had happened to you when Eagle Sun brought them to the event. 
Noa’s eyes couldn’t bring themselves to even look at your injury, rooted paste placed on top, along with a thin cloth to keep it unexposed to the air. Based on his internal clock, Soona would be there in an hour or so to replace the cloth with another... He was there the entire time, not having any time set aside to eat, to be with Soona and Anaya who he knew were waiting outside, unwavering in their friendship to him, unsettled in Noa’s choice of mate. To them, you were one of the Eagle Clan, and for Noa, they accepted you with open arms. Your blood still clung to the very tips of his fur. He hadn’t taken any time to even groom, how could he? How could he leave you? His mate. 
That loving notion that always wrapped Noa in warmth didn't stop the young Chimp from flying off the rails at himself. The stupid, so vastly immature mistake at letting you go alone. Had he been with you, this entire situation could have been avoided. You’d be awake right now, looking at Noa with those eyes--- Those eyes that he loved, that he found himself getting lost in from time to time, even in his own mind did he get lost. You’d be conscious, maybe even with your hand in his fur, the way he liked, the way that got him to pause and to come down from even the highest of highs. His hand had trailed from the rest on your shoulder upwards to your hair where he gave it a tender stroke. There was dried blood between the strands, he noticed and could hear your voice in his head. 
I must look like shit.  When can I go to the creek to wash myself? He smiled at the imitation he had of you in his imagination, it being rather remarkable. He’d spent so much time observing you that your tendencies, Echo or not, were well ingrained into his memory. How you would react to things, how he knew in this moment you’d be concerned about looking bad in front of him; a concept that Noa didn't care much about. To him, in any circumstance, you were beautiful. Even now… He thought quietly to himself and brought his hand back upwards to your hairline before brushing very gently backwards. In wishful passing, with each stroke of your hair Noa just hoped and hoped it would be the one that would spur you to wake. He hoped.
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farfromstrange · 22 days ago
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Fictober Day 8: Sex Toys
Fictober Masterlist | Main Masterlist
Pairing: Matt Murdock x F!Reader
Prompt: Sex Toys (✨)
Summary: Matt wants to use one of your sex toys on you for the first time, but things don't quite go as planned.
Warnings: SMUT (18+), use of a vibrator, use of "good girl", slight degradation, slight Dom!Matt, unprotected p in v, breeding kink
Word Count: 2k
A/n: Jesus, this was supposed to be a Drabble. Matt took over toward the end though and added another thousand words, so now you get to have this filthy little (big) piece.
Read Me On AO3!
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He’s towering over you. The billboard's lights paint a blue and purple mosaic on his bare skin. His eyes are closed as he listens to your every breath, and every beating of your heart. But there’s something else in the air tonight.
The steady buzzing of your vibrator glides up, up, up your thigh. You can’t remember when you’ve last been this on edge, this close to falling off the carousel without ever being pushed. 
Matt is calm—too calm. He’s taking his time pressing the current into your skin, soaking your little impatient noises up like a sponge. You’re so wet already, naked and spread out for him as his cock rests achingly hard against his stomach, but he’s nowhere near done with you. And he won’t let you touch him. You’ve tried; you’ve tried to reach out for him, but he slapped your hand away. 
“Not yet,” he’d said to you. “I want to try something first.”
When he pulled out the box with all your toys that you keep around for when you feel needy and alone without him, you knew that his hands wouldn’t be the only thing touching you tonight. It’s exciting, to try things you have never tried before. At first, you were scared to tell him about your occasional habit of pleasuring yourself when time won’t allow him to do it, but he was never opposed to it. Not that he has any right to be, anyway. 
You never expected this to happen though. 
You never expected Matt to pull out your bright pink vibrator and tell you how badly he wants to fuck you with it until you can’t help but scream his name.
Your skin tingles at the low temperature of the toy. You would ask him to warm it up for you, but you doubt you could get a word out even if you tried. You’re hot to your very core, but with the vibrator gradually sliding up to travel the valley between your breasts, you find yourself suddenly freezing. 
Matt must be able to tell. Goosebumps erupt on your skin everywhere he touches you without touching you. He reaches out to brush the tip of his calloused thumb over it, collecting the sweat that has started to pour from your pores and rubbing it in. You’re not cold, the action is supposed to say. And he’s right, you’re not cold, it just feels like you are. Every nerve in your body is on fire. It almost hurts how badly you want him to do something, anything. You need to come. You need to feel the vibrator against your cunt, or your clit, or perhaps both. You want him to kiss you and hold you as he thrusts the stupid toy into you, always angled toward that spot. Higher and higher and higher until finally, you come. 
Matt presses the tip against your nipple, and you cry out. You couldn’t focus, so he made you focus. White hot pleasure courses through your veins, infecting you like some kind of disease, but you wouldn’t mind if it killed you. So many different temperatures, so many different sensations. Now you know what it must feel like for him, at least a little bit. It’s so incredibly intense you forget how to breathe.
“Look at me,” he says.
Somehow, he always knows when you don’t. 
You open your eyes, your vision blurry as you take on the vision that is him. You could cry just from how beautiful he is.
“Good girl.” He draws a circle around your nipple then. “Just feel.”
You try to shut your legs for some kind of friction, but he pushes them apart again. Matt clicks his tongue. “I take it back.” Gently, he smacks the vibrator against your breast, but it’s enough to make you jolt. “Bad girl,” he says. 
Asshole.
“Language.”
Did you say that out loud? Fuck.
“Please,” you beg. “I’m sorry, Matty. Please, just…”
“What?” He circles the other breast, turning the toy up a notch. “Use your words, sweetheart.”
“Touch me,” your voice is barely above a pathetic whisper.
He shakes his head. “You can do better than that.”
You abandon the thought of cursing him out again. You want to be his good girl, you do. 
“Touch me,” you repeat. 
His hand comes to rest on your stomach, just below your heart. “Like this?”
You suck in a sharp breath. 
“Or like this?” He leans forward, pressing his lips against your skin, featherlight. You barely feel it. 
A whine slips past your lips. 
Matt slides the vibrator back down your body. You don’t notice; you’re too focused on the way his lips are moving along your sensitive abdomen, getting bolder with each inch he covers. His hand traces every crevice and every scar he can find. He knows you inside and out, yet he touches you as though it is the very first time. The very first night you got together. Like he can’t believe you’re his, and he needs to take his time worshiping—no, memorizing you. In case you slip through his fingers after this, and all he will have left is your memory.
You would never do that to him, but you know just how scared he gets. He needs to do this. He needs to feel you. And you are more than willing to give your body, mind, and soul to him. If you could, you would serve it on a silver platter, for you know that you are safest with him.
He hums at the hitch of your breath, the slight uptick in your heartbeat. His fingers splay over the left side of your chest. You’re alive. Your heart is beating for him, and that’s all that matters. 
“Or maybe like this?” he says, and the moan you let out borders on a scream when he pushes the vibrator directly against your pussy. 
The wave building within you is already tall enough to level a small town. 
Matt glides the tip over your swollen clit. “You’re so wet. Fuck. I barely touched you.”
You are grasping at the sheets, at the pillows, but the silk slips through your fingers. “Matt,” you choke out. 
“I know.” He presses a kiss to your sternum. “I know, baby. It’s okay.”
The wave threatens to crash into you. It shouldn’t be possible, and yet, it is. He’s made it possible. 
You tangle your fingers in his hair, tugging at the strands as he pushes the vibrator against your entrance. At the setting it is now, you can feel the electricity in your every bone. He pushes it in until you’re full of the silicone.
You’re moaning, thrashing, and clawing at him for something to hold onto. You are so close—so, so close. You don’t understand what’s happening to you.
His hand comes to cup your breast again. “Look at you,” he murmurs, raspy against your skin. His kisses have no aim, simply caressing your skin as he would worship at the shrine of the ever-loving Catholic God he believes in. Right now though, you are his God, and he would lay his life down for you. He would sacrifice his life just to listen to you fall apart, just to make sure you’re okay and he has done everything to give you what you need.
Because neither heaven nor hell would mean anything without you.
Your hips buck into the vibrations, into his touch, and you can feel your control fading. The wave is close enough for you to touch. Every crevice in your body wants to burst, every muscle straining to hold on, to hold you on the edge just a little longer, but it’s hard—so hard. 
Matt grunts, teeth digging into your flesh. His cock jumps at the sounds you’re making, the way you’re clenching around the toy and your scent so fucking thick in the air he will probably smell you for weeks to come. Pre-cum has long started leaking from his tip.
He thought this was a good idea, getting to explore you in an entirely new way, but Good Lord, he can’t stand the thought of a toy giving you this much pleasure when he is right there to fill you to the brim. 
He stops below your ear, only to whisper, “Safe word?”
Your eyes roll back into your head. “R-red,” you stammer. 
“Good girl. Remember that.”
But why ask?
Your question answers itself when he suddenly pulls the vibrator out of you, leaving you painfully empty and wet. You cry out again, though this time out of pure disdain. You were so close.
He ruined it.
He fucking ruined it. 
“No,” you whine. “Please…”
He shushes you with his lips, and then his cock thrusts into you. You don’t have time to process before he bottoms out. The stretch is familiar yet new, reigniting the fires he blew out mere seconds ago. He’s thick, bigger than average, and he fills you up so good. Your lips part, but nothing wants to come out. You can’t moan. You can’t scream. He’s inside of you, and all you can think is, ‘Fucking finally!’ 
Matt slides his tongue into your mouth to silence himself. You’re warm and tight, and if he weren’t so determined to make you come all over his cock before he gets to see the pearly gates, he would have already burst. 
Though neither of you is going to last very long.
Your legs wrap around his waist. That’s why he asked. He holds onto your thigh as you cling to him, nails running down his back until he’s red all over until he’s marked by you. 
Once he’s got his bearings, he’s not holding back. The pace he sets is brutal. He thrusts into you with abandon, angling your leg to get as deep as he possibly can, and he fucks you into the mattress like a man starved. It’s that way, too, that he kisses you.
The bed creaks with every snap of his hips against yours. You swear you can feel him in your stomach, the way he’s taking you apart with only his cock. You’re falling with nowhere to land, but he’s falling with you. Hard, and fast.
Matt bites your lip, tugging it back before crashing his mouth into yours again. You’re sure one of you must be bleeding. 
“I need you to come,” he pants, teeth dragging along your jaw. “Need you to…” He grunts.
The orgasm continues to build as the wave gains momentum.
“Come for me.” 
You cry out his name when you do, the wave crashing in and drowning you all at once. Your heart beats out of your chest and into his. One more thrust. Two. Even a third one, and then, he spills into you. 
For a short while, the world stops turning. You’re floating in a void detached from space and time. All that fills the room now is the sound of your labored breathing.
Minutes pass by. The lights of the Billboard continue to flicker, throwing a blanket of color over you. 
Matt is the first to break the silence. “Was that…” he trails off.
Your chest rumbles with a soft chuckle, holding his fragile body a little tighter to yours. “Oh yeah,” you say. “It was.”
He nuzzles his nose further into your chest. “Good. That’s… good.”
What he doesn’t tell you, at least not yet: there are a lot more toys in that little box of yours that he is eager to try out, and he will make sure to come inside you with every last one of them. To fill you up. To breed you so he can taste himself inside your pussy when he eats you out at the end of this—as he always does. 
He’s going to make you come so many times, you won’t be able to walk tomorrow. You won’t even be able to remember your own damn name. Only his. And it will only be his cock that will make you do so. As fun as toys are, there are some things he would rather do himself when he can. 
You don’t quite know it yet, but tonight is going to be a very long night for you. 
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misshugs · 7 months ago
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Feverish || Sam Golbach x Reader
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You start getting a really bad fever. the problem about it is not the fever itself, it's the horny feeling that you always seem to get whenever you're sick.
contains: fluff into SMUT +18, soft!Sam, sick!Reader, Sam caring for reader, oral (m), unprotected sex, cursing, pet names, cuddles, no mention of Y/n
a/n: surprise update!
word count: 2k
[u n e d i t e d]
✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。°✩
Everything was moving. Your vision was playing tricks on you as you saw your ceiling moving around. You felt your body heavy, confused as to what was happening.
You can't remember the last time you got sick, even more so having this bad of a fever.
You felt cold, but your body was burning up.
It was around 3 in the evening and you haven't gotten out of bed yet, sweating all over your bed as your pants were the only thing you could think about. Hugging the sheets tightly as you felt yourself shivering.
Sam was supposed to come to your house today. He's been texting, trying to ask if you needed anything before he gets there, but to no use. You left your phone on the kitchen counter last night, and you felt too tired to try and look for it.
Not only tired, but turned on for some reason. Your body felt extremely needy and you were too delusional at the time to really think about anything else.
Minutes later, there was Sam at your door, knocking. Since you didn't respond, he decided to take the spare key you hid just in case. You didn't even notice the door opening when he suddenly asked your name.
Opening your eyes and looking at the door, you saw him hurriedly walking closer to you.
"Are you okay, baby?" He asked, touching your exposed shoulder from the oversize you wore to sleep. "You're burning up."
You softly blinked while looking at him, "Angel...?" You said, having some white dots blind your vision, making him look mystical in your eyes. You tried touching him. "You're an.. angel?" You touched his cheek, only for him to hold your hand down.
"Close, I'm your boyfriend." He smiled, kissing your warm hand. "Baby, you're burning up. Why didn't you tell me?" He asked, looking around. "Where's your phone?"
"Dunno... C'mere." You tried to push him closer to you with the little to no strength you had. "Cuddles."
"Hold up, let me find you some medicine real quick." He said, walking away. You whine, wanting him close to you. Trying to reach out, you end up falling from the bed, now whining at the ache in your body.
He quickly turns back after hearing you. "Oh, god. Are you okay?? Did you get hurt?" Worry in his voice as he picks you up bridal style. You reassure him you were fine. "Be careful, okay?" He kisses your cheek and tries to set you back down on the bed, but you've trapped him now.
"No." You pout, holding him by the neck with your new found strength, not wanting to let go.
"Baby." He laughs at how clingy you suddenly got. He sighs, "Alright, c'mere." He positions your legs around his waist, holding you by the ass. You quickly adjust yourself, getting comfortable as you rest your head on his shoulder, hugging him right.
He softly rubs your back while walking out of the room. Wasting no time, he quickly looks for some medicine and some clean towels to at least try and cool down your fever.
Even though your eyelids felt heavy, you made sure you were able to kiss his neck while he was doing whatever he was doing. It made him laugh at the touch.
"At least you seem to be having fun. You're sweating like crazy though..." He whispers, feeling the sweat drip down your back.
Looking back at the kitchen, he noticed it was extremely dry and clean. "Have you eaten anything?" He asks, knowing that you don't usually leave the kitchen this clean until it's the end of the day since, quoting yourself, 'why clean twice if you'll use them again'.
"No." You whispered, almost unnoticed due to your voice suddenly getting raspy, giving him shivers as your kisses on his neck keep on going. It seems to be keeping you sane from the world spinning so quickly.
"So I'm guessing you haven't gotten out of bed 'til now?" You hummmed. "I'll take that as a yes. Well then." He sighs and walks towards the counter, sitting you down. He softly takes your hands off his neck, making you open your eyes to look at him with a frown.
He laughs at the site, cupping your face and kissing your nose. "I'll be here, I'm going to make you something to eat, but first..." He grabs some pills and a cup of water. "Let's try and cool that fever down."
Without much arguing, you drink the pill down while you look at him cook for you. For a moment, your vision turned normal and you were gazing his way, almost hypnotized by him.
You just wanted to hug him, cuddle with him underneath the sheets while he caresses your hair. Being on top of him, straddling him while you were fast asleep on his chest.
He certainly understood the assignment, since he kept on giving you soft kisses and hugs while he was working on your quick meal.
Although you wanted nonstop touching, you were able to manage for the moment. Merely because you got lost in his figure.
Such a sweet boyfriend you had.
He knew you too well. The food he made was not much, but enough for you to be able to munch it down without problem, just in case you get too full and throw it all up.
He made sure to help you eat, passing a cold towel on your shoulders and face to try and cool you off in the meanwhile.
It did work for a short while.
After some food, you opened your arms towards him, expecting him to carry you back to bed, and so he did.
You don't quite know exactly what was it about your bed that made you feel this way, but as soon as you knew you were inside your room, the urge to merely cuddle changed to sexual desire. As if some aphrodisiac went into your system as soon as you saw him close to a bed.
You sighed on his neck at the feeling, making him shiver. Your dilated eyes being a dead giveaway of your vivid thoughts, not even mentioning your quickly damping panties.
As soon as he tried to lie you down on the bed, you held his face and kissed his lips. He smiled in between and kissed back. Since your legs were surrounding his hips, you moved him to the side, making him lie down next to you.
Hurriedly putting yourself on top of him, you began grinding on his lap, gaining a moan in the midst of the kiss. As you both separated, trying to regain your breath, he sighed your name.
"You look... so good." You panted, hearts in your eyes. "I wanna taste you, Sammy." Your hand was moving through his chest, slowly falling down to the top of his pants.
"S-sweetheart, you're sick... you're supposed to be resting." He said, trying to calm himself down, but his body telling the truth. You felt his rising boner underneath you.
"After..." You whispered, holding onto the waistband of his pants and pulling them down. "I want this..." You continued, releasing his quickly growing friend.
And who was he to protest in your needs? If it is something you believe might make you feel better, so be it.
He sighed when he felt your warm hand over his dick, slowly and painfully touching his tip. He groaned at the feeling, while your mouth was basically watering at his sounds and the look on his face.
You moved to the side, getting your face closer to his dick while your ass was on the air. Licking his tip, you saw his face. A mix of love and lust filled his panting face.
You loved it.
You didn't make him wait much, licking his length before your hand started moving up and down. Sucking onto his tip, you wasted no time and started bobbing your head up and down, slowly pushing it deeper and deeper into your throat.
"Oh, fuck." He groaned, throwing his head back and putting the back of his hand infront of his lips, unable to close his mouth from the pleasure you were giving him. You kept sucking the tip every time you were on the edge of pulling out, it was driving him crazy.
He didn't last long, to say the least. His orgasm quickly reaching as you separated your mouth and started moving your hand faster, opening your mouth, waiting in anticipation.
Moaning, he came all over your face. Whatever got in your mouth you quickly gulped down, licking your lips while looking at his flustered stare.
"Sam." You sighed, giving a quick lick to his tip as you separated from it and crawled towards his face. Kissing and straddling him once again, he held onto your waist.
"You look so needy today, sweetheart." He smiled, grabbing your ass, pushing you down onto him once again, moaning as you feel his heat rubbing your clothed cunt.
"Fuck, Sam. Please..." You panted his name, shivering at the feeling. "I need you."
"Need me to help you, baby?" He said in a deep, romantic voice. You nodded prefusely at his comment.
It seems like a piece of your consciousness went missing for a second, since when you regained it, you had no clothes on. Sam's firm hands on your hips while he positioned himself in your pussy, knowing you were probably too needy for preparation.
In goes the tip, shortly followed by a slow thrust that made you whine, holding his shirt. He grunts for a moment.
"You okay, babe?" He caresses your ass, feeling you quickly tense up, choking his tip with your tightness. You nodded, trying to relax your muscles.
"Keep... going." You sighed, while he peppered your face with kisses. He moved your ass down with caution to not hurt you, slowly. Tempting.
When you were all settled, it took you a few moments to completely relax. As you felt more comfortable, you started moving your hips, letting him know he could move.
Taking notice of your actions, he helped you out. It didn't take long for him to start thrusting quickly inside of you, listening to your moans, leaving wet kisses on your neck.
He switched positions, putting you underneath and lifting one of your legs on top of his shoulders. Hitting those spots he couldn't before, you felt bliss. Your eyes rolled back while you arched your back.
While he went back to your warm, sweaty neck to leave some hickeys, you hugged him. Grabbing his shirt and clawing his back on accident, you surely left some marks to look at later.
You were on de edge of climax, twitching at the knot in your stomach forming up, whimpering. "Fuck, Sam, I'm... I'm coming." Hearing those soft, sexy sounds come out of your mouth, he could've easily cum right there.
"Come for me, baby." He whispered in your ear, speeding up his thrusts. After you moaned loudly and came all over his dick, he gave a few more thrusts before pulling out and releasing himself on your stomach.
Trying to regain your breath, he kissed your lips softly. Standing up, he went to the bathroom and came back with a clean towel to wipe you clean, kissing softly some random parts of your body while he's at it.
You yawned, noticeably exhausted after the session. He smiled at you, fixing you up before lying down next to you and holding you protectively in his arms. "Now we can cuddle." He said.
You hugged back, remembering that other urge that you had before, and successfully taking advantage of the situation you put yourself in. It felt good to be in his arms, even more so when his soft pats on your head seemed so dreamy and kind. The kisses on your forehead making it even better.
A few hours of cuddling later, you felt much more better. In fact, you felt better than most days after you sweat off all of that fever up and took a small nap, and it was all thanks to the best boyfriend ever.
"Are you okay, love?" You asked after he stood up from the bed but stopped moving.
"Yeah, yeah. Just got dizzy." He chuckled. You stood up to touch his forehead, thinking of the possibility.
"...you're burning up." Unfortunately, your suspicion was right. You accidentally gave him a fever.
The question is...
Is he the same as you when you get sick?
✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。°✩
fun fact there was a time where i actually got a horrible fever but i got so clingy and cuddly with everyone around me, so this is based on a true story LMAO (without the hot, sexy boyfriend unfortunately)
-nikkõ
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kiwiiwriites · 6 months ago
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[pining, returned affection, nsfw, penetration, cum kink?, mentions of belly bulge, boyfriend Choso]
[wc: 2k]
[Continuation of this post]
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
With anything unrelated to his brothers, Choso was mostly unbothered. Half the time, he didn’t know what he was doing or what he was supposed to be doing.
He only knew his younger brother Yuji was doing his best to acclimate him to normal human society.
He also knew that Yuji was his direct line to you.
The incredibly talented jujutsu sorcerer he introduced him to that one day. The day that altered his perception of everything.
That was the first time he had been bothered in a different way. A good way.
At least, he eventually came to realize it was good.
At first, his heart was beating so fast in his chest that it started to worry him. He wasn't sure what was happening, or why he was finding it hard to breathe just from looking at you. Just from receiving a warm smile from your lips.
Of course, Choso could feel human emotions. He typically felt only a slim few, and all had to do with his brothers. Otherwise, he was apathetic. Uncaring. He was a tool to be used, and a shield for his brothers.
But you? You made him feel everything at once in the most agonizing way. You seemed to offer him the complete human experience by uttering only a few pleasant words of greeting.
Afterward, Yuji gave Choso a similar shpiel to Fushiguro's—don't bother. She may be incredibly friendly and kind, but you'll never have her.
Choso never let those words sink into his skin. He was too stunned to even understand what was happening to him.
But after that day, his heart burned in a way it never had before. He just wanted to see you again. To hear you speak, even if he was too anxious to say anything back. He needed to be near you, and that urge became so strong, he found himself jumping at the chance to join Yuji and his friends whenever they went somewhere fun, all for the chance that you might be there.
Luckily, you typically were if you had the spare time. And god, Choso was getting more sick every time he saw you. At least, that was how it felt.
Boba shops, cafes, cinemas, carnivals, and everything in between, if you were there, so was he. If you were smiling and laughing, so was he.
Choso didn't know the first thing about love, and there was something about it that scared him.
But when your flirtations became more physical—the brush of your arm against his, linking together arm-in-arm to whisk him somewhere interesting, or when your fingers would just barely touch—Choso could feel himself crumbling.
That heart of his, once only warm for his brothers, was beginning to beat at a different rhythm. It was syncing up with yours, whether he knew it or not.
When it became too much, that was when he approached Yuji.
He did his best to hide how much his hands were trembling even while he spoke to his brother about you, and his throat felt impossibly dry.
"Hey...um, Yuji?"
Yuji hardly looked up from the movie he was fixated on. "Yeah?"
Choso swallowed back his apprehension, aware that he had no experience of his own, but his younger brother grew up with humans and their strange emotions. Surely he would understand.
"What does it mean when your heart beats strangely around someone, or if you get nervous around them?"
Yuji shrugged. "Usually that means you like them."
Choso furrowed his brows together. "Like them?"
"Mhm. You can like someone in a friendly way and be normal around them, but if you're not, then that means you like like them. You know?" Yuji explained, still watching the tv. "If you really like them, then you probably want to be near that person, or hold them or something."
Choso kind of understood what this like like was, but he didn't understand why it hurt. Why it burned and ached.
But he did know that feeling existed inside of him for you.
"I think I like y/n then."
Yuji went quiet for a moment, then he mumbled, "Are you sure?"
Choso scratched the back of his neck, feeling as warmth moved into his face. "I enjoy being around her, and as you said, I'd like to be near her more. I wouldn't mind holding her too. What should I do?"
He assumed Yuji was only considering the options, not completely breaking on the inside. He had no idea his younger brother was actively pushing back the urge to explode on him.
"...you should ask her how she feels..." Yuji began, forcing the words out. "And if you're serious, ask her out on a date."
Unaware of the nuances of these kinds of things, Choso came out with it one day when he couldn't handle it anymore. When you smiled that smile at him and reduced him to a sappy version of himself he was unfamiliar with.
"How do you feel?" He questioned, walking alongside you on an aimless stroll around campus. His heart was in his throat, and he felt like screaming from how nervous he was.
You let out a humored sound. "I feel okay, I guess? Thanks for asking, Cho."
Cho. That nickname you gave him always made his head go woozy.
So much so that he almost didn't realize you misunderstood his question.
"Er...I mean...maybe I remembered it wrong," he murmured to himself, trying to recall Yuji's advice. His skin was growing hotter as he tried to get it right in his head.
"You all right?" You asked, growing concerned as you took in his fluster.
Not walking anymore, and face to face, Choso found himself desperate for the right thing to say. He tried to wrack his brain, aware that he might not have that chance again.
Ask her out on a date.
Those words hit him, and Choso brightened with a sheepish smile.
"Would you like to go somewhere with me...on a date?"
Your smile eased the burning fear he had in his chest. "Sure, I'd love to. I'm free right now if you already have a place in mind."
Your acceptance was the first sign of hope he needed, and to his relief, the date went better than he expected. After that, multiple other one-on-one outings happened, and before long, Choso found himself uttering the words he never expected to leave his lips.
"I love you..." Choso heaved, gripping your hips as he bucked into you, watching as his cock slipped inside of you again and again. He watched how your arousal made a cute ring around him, and how you seemed to take him so well. So eagerly. "I-I love you...I love you..."
It left his mouth like a chant as he rammed into your soaked pussy, in lustful agony over how perfectly you squelched for him.
As much as you wanted to say it back, you were too far gone already. He made you cum twice already, and he was desperately chasing after another.
But he didn't mind how you couldn't say it. You were already fucked dumb by him, and he knew the way you clenched around his length said it all.
From in his lap while you gripped the couch with one hand and held yourself up with the other against his chest, skin already slick with sweat and warm to the touch, you looked ethereal to him. Head tipping back with a slack jaw, body angled so that he had a perfect view of your tits, the sight of you alone was enough to have him bordering his next orgasm.
"Fuck—" Choso groaned, gripping harder and relentlessly sending his throbbing cock back into you, hypnotized by your velvety walls. "You're perfect...fucking perfect..."
Your moans sent shivers right through him as he squeezed you tight, unable to choke back his whimpers and gasps for breath.
Choso was normally so well composed and visibly unaffected by most things, but every time he found himself inside you, he became insatiable. Whiny and stumbling over his words. You just felt so impossibly good around him, sucking him in and embracing his cock with pure love and adoration.
He knew you had him in a vulnerable position. He knew you had far too much power over him, but he didn't care.
Choso knew what it felt like to fuck you raw, and it was impossible for him to be without it.
"...C-Cho..." you barely managed to say, trying to hold on through his relentless thrusts. It was hard to believe you had been the one riding him initially. You had been the one fucking him until he couldn't take it anymore, and he needed to let that unwavering desperation out.
Fuck, you were too much. Too compliant with his movements. Too whimpery. Too fucking perfect.
"Jus' hold on, baby," Choso mumbled gruffly, using everything he had left to push you closer to the edge. "One more...please. Give me one more—"
He nearly choked at the feeling of your plush walls clenching around him, milking him for everything he had. Heaving in his frantic breaths, he dropped a thumb to trace messy circles against your clit.
"I'm s' full already..." you babbled, eyes closed as more pleasure swept through you while his thick girth stretched you so completely.
"I-I know," he stuttered, pulling you down to force his cock against your cervix, ramming again and again as he admired the slight bulge in your belly from him. "Jus' one more. Fuck, baby. I need to fill you again—need you to take it like a good girl..."
The mix of skin slapping and your broken moans filled the room, emphasized by the mess already between your bodies.
His cum was everywhere already, but god, Choso loved it. He loved how it glistened against your skin and how it sounded when he shoved his cock back into you, bringing it along for the ride.
It was a reminder of how much you affected him. How your perfect pussy could make him cum over and over again, and he'd still be aimlessly begging for another.
Watching your eyes roll back as your whole body convulsed through your next orgasm was always enough to make him crack. Watching the woman he loved reach that state of euphoria all because of him was all he needed to slam his hips into yours one last time as he struggled to breathe, gripping and clutching you for dear life.
Like the perfect woman you were, you'd take another bout of his cum. Still just as abundant and enthusiastic, he'd shoot his thick ropes inside you, only adding to the mess of sticky fluid between you.
Choso's head always lulled back whenever he came, so drunk off how incredible it all was to be edging blackout territory.
Full of his cum and too exhausted to keep yourself up, you slumped against him while you both caught your breath. Instinctually, Choso wrapped his arms around you, keeping you close so that he didn't have to miss a second without you.
"T-thank you, baby," Choso whispered, mustering just enough energy to run a lazy hand up and down your back.
He didn't know when it started, but it was an endearing thing he tended to do whenever you entertained his belligerent deviancy. Whenever he'd fuck you way past the point of overstimulation, and yet, you'd still let him fill you with another load.
In every way, you were perfect. Far too perfect for him.
But still, all the while he tried to bring himself back down again, he silently thanked his brother for introducing you two. For bringing the love of his life to him, and making it all possible.
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noroi1000 · 2 years ago
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Yo, hear me out! Yandere Gojo and Geto x reader. Please make this happens, I love yanderes.
Where have you been?
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Summary: Shoko asked you to come to her. You were in a hurry, and you forgot to let your boyfriends know. And they are obsessed with you. They are overprotective and also terribly jealous. You're supposed to spend time with them. Words: 2k
Warnings: yandere
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You've had a hard day.
And it was all going to get even worse.
You knew exactly about the great jealousy of your boyfriends.
You were surprised that they somehow tolerated you being with them.
Since they were so jealous of everything.
These two were able to take your hands off your neighbors nice cat.
Because your hands can only stroke them. Only their bodies.
You've known them for a long time, and you didn't mind that it was. They love you. And you love them both. The fact that they are jealous and possessive shows that they care about you and are interested in what you do.
Even though they exaggerate sometimes...
Possessive, obsessed with your safety and where you go. Jealousy and other possessive and obsessive behaviors.
You still love them. You don't mind because it makes them both happy.
This makes them both provide you with love and happiness.
They're normal, loving guys until someone picks you up or you suddenly run away and they don't know where you've been.
That was right now.
You didn't mind that they told you to inform them every time you went somewhere.
Well, that makes sense. Because once you didn't tell them, they were standing outside the door waiting for you to come back because none of them took the keys to the house.
They have made your life pleasant and full of love.
It's not surprising that you've been in a long relationship with them already.
Compared to people who have normal relationships, yours is different. And not just because there are three people in your relationship.
When you came up with descriptions of "dere" people. And you've noticed that your boys display everything a "Yandere" person shows.
You liked anime so you didn't find it strange that you really saw it in them.
And it was true. That description perfectly described what they are.
Maybe people may have thought your relationship was toxic.
There was no betrayal or anything.
Their love was just obsessive.
But you weren't afraid. Because they love you. You didn't see anything wrong with it.
It was a sign that they love you so much.
That's why you knew you had to face their questions: where were you, why didn't you tell them?
Or what is always: who were you with?
They are jealous that you can spend time with someone else, and that someone can come much closer to you than they should. Especially a man.
You don't find their possessiveness toxic.
They care about you.
Sometimes a little too much.
And you want them to be happy.
Because the way they act sometimes can be scary.
Even if it looks like that, they won't hurt you. They might be pissed off or ask you about everything. Even if most have nothing to do with all of this.
You left the house today without a plan.
You don't work because they said you shouldn't work.
For them, you're supposed to sit at home and don't think about doing anything. You just need to be there with them.
You can't argue with them if what they say is better for you than what you say.
For example, if one of them tells you not to go to a very stressful place, when you say you have to go, they will tell you what is better for you.
It's as if they have some instinct telling them something is wrong.
They once told you that sometimes when you weren't home, they had a bad feeling.
Like when Shoko offered you drinks without telling you how much alcohol was in it, and you almost fell over on the way home, even though you weren't that drunk.
Or when they saw that you weren't feeling too well and then went shopping, they had a feeling that something might happen. That you'll pass out or feel bad enough to go to the hospital.
Even if it wasn't anything serious. It might have been a cold, but they were worried anyway.
Their jealousy and the whole "yandere" behavior stemmed mainly from their overprotectiveness.
And the fact that they could care for you and be your boyfriends turned into possessiveness that crosses borders already so much.
You are not afraid of them, even though they are so powerful. They would never hurt you.
They just want to keep you for them.
There's no way they're going to hurt you.
They will only give you all their love if you are completely theirs.
You've heard them say that you "belong to them" more than once.
Honestly, you don't feel bad in those words.
However, you were ready for all these questions from them, and again this possessive behavior when you were about to enter the house.
Shoko called you to come see her.
You thought something bad had happened. That's why you ran out of the house, even forgetting your phone to reach her.
Thus, you forgot to inform them.
When they saw you weren't home, they didn't know if they were pissed or disappointed.
Their only thought is to bring you back home as soon as possible.
They even thought you might have run away from them.
And that would be a blow to their heart.
Not just because you ran away from them. But also because they would have to drag you home and keep you there.
They wouldn't mind locking you in the house to come home from work every day and see you there. And you won't come out.
But for your sake, they wanted you to live with them voluntarily.
That's why they were happy when you said you loved them. And you showed it to them.
It was just great for them.
Say you're theirs and be with you every day. And you tell them straight out that you love them.
While you were away, they were paranoid.
They started imagining something.
Well, you were with Shoko.
She was going through something like a one-day existential crisis.
She was overworked, she was drunk and she was smoking her third pack of cigarettes when you came to her house.
She laughed, then spoke normally, then sounded like she was about to fall asleep.
Back then, her house wasn't a dream place to sleep.
The rooms were filled with cigarette smoke, the smell of which burned the nose so strongly that anyone who entered there could wince.
Shoko never smoked light cigarettes...
In order not to watch what she does with herself instead of sleeping, you did everything to make her relax and fall asleep.
Probably today was the day she wanted to get drunk, lie on the couch drunk and smoke cigarettes. Then go to work like a zombie.
You opened the windows in her house to get rid of the excess smoke. Even if the smell of cigarettes was still in the room, you at least wanted fresh air.
The smell of smoke is difficult to remove. That's why every time Suguru wants to smoke, you tell him to go to the balcony or outside.
You don't want your freshly laundered clothes to smell good. Even if one of your boyfriends doesn't smoke often. Because he's not addicted to it.
Not like Shoko has been for a while. When she quit smoking, it was different. And now she's back to it because she has fond memories of her smoking days.
You opened the windows of her house, gave her a lot of water and took the alcohol from her. And then you washed her face and neck with a damp washcloth until you finally took her to bed to let her go to sleep.
Then you started walking home. But you noticed that it was already late. Evening.
You knew you had to come home quickly.
Because you've already been in trouble.
You've been waiting for a long time in which you'll have to calm them down.
And when you pulled the handle to open the door, everything was open.
Which meant Satoru and Suguru were already home.
You sighed, knowing that the calm aura of the house was about to turn into something darker.
And to make it look better, you decided to call them.
"Satoru? Suguru?"
You looked around to see that the only light in the house was the one coming from the window that showed the sunset.
"Where have you been?"
You heard a voice and quickly turned around.
You saw Suguru standing next to the stairs from which Satoru was just coming down.
There was a can of soda in his hand, and he looked like he just got out of the shower. Hair loose and combed, clean clothes.
Satoru slumped against the stair railing, staring out the window.
They both weren't looking at you. They weren't smiling.
Suguru's hand went up, hooking his fingers on the sunbeams falling inside. Causing his fingers to be lit and the rest of his hand not.
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"Did you have fun without us?" he asked, knowing the sun was going down. "It's sunset, you know? You haven't given us any message."
"Suguru, I'm sorry, I was rushing to see Shoko. I forgot my phone. And she called me so urgently. I thought something happened to her."
"Couldn't you text us before you left?" Satoru asked suddenly. Looking at you with cold blue eyes.
"I'm sorry... If I wasn't in a hurry, I'd definitely do it..." You said quietly, and walked over to Suguru, wanting to hug him. But you didn't know if he would let you..
Against all odds, he set his drink down the stairs behind him, and placed his hands on your shoulders.
Which meant you could hug him.
"I understand that could be the case. Besides, Shoko wrote to me that you will be staying with her. However, we believe you more than anyone else." he said hugging you tight. Enough to make you feel a little overwhelmed. It was still a nice hug though. "Satoru is less calm. Because he only found out about it an hour ago when he came home."
"Satoru." You muttered with your cheek pressed against Suguru's chest.
"I thought you ran away." He said with his arms folded across his chest. "Looking for you wouldn't be so much trouble... However, how would you feel if I took you back home by force?"
You looked at the floor.
You really shouldn't upset them.
"Here is your place. With us. And unfortunately, you can't leave whenever you like."
"You are ours. You will not belong to anyone else. Only us."
You smiled slightly at Satoru to see how his face changed.
And he, seeing your smile, came closer with a relaxed face.
You don't mind how they behave. Just do not.
His hands cupped your body, hugging you from behind. They held you gently but possessively. Showing you that they care about you. That they love you.
You may even be afraid of it when they are like this. However, your one smile is enough to calm them down.
They won't let you go. But your one smile, and they don't need to worry.
Because when you smile, it means you're happy.
Their faces were on your arms.
Their lips pressed against your neck on either side.
Even though they were hugging you, you felt their bodies pressing against you. Their warmth.
You only flinched as their teeth bit into your neck.
And you only heard two sounds in your ears. Two voices whispering to your heart.
"You belong to us... And it always will be like this... We're not mad at you, but how about we lock you up here with us now. That you can't go out. And for the next few hours, you won't be able to move away from us."
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aewon · 4 months ago
Text
soulmate- LHS
heeseung x f!reader genre: fluff, strangers 2 lovers, soulmate au warnings: suggestive, cursing, kissing ft. yunjin, chaewon, wonyoung, ningning and hanni wc: 2k
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Starting college in a different state isn't easy.
It's only been one week, but you miss your family and friends back home like crazy.
You haven't been able to make any friends so far, finding it hard to approach people.
It sounds corny, but it seems like everyone has their own clique at this college, and you don't know where you fit in.
What you have learned is who not to mess with.
There's a group of guys, all a part of your school’s dance team. 
They call themselves Enhypen. You don't know where the name came from, but it's something you haven't bothered to learn.
All you know is that they're well-known on campus, but no one is close to them. They're only close to each other.
Girls fawn over them despite this fact, and all of them have failed to get close.
Gossip spreads quickly around this campus. You know who’s who, who has crushes on who.
The other group of people you know not to mess with are the popular girls in your school.
Yunjin, Wonyoung, Ningning, and Chaewon.
All rich, all supposed mean girls who will destroy you if they so please.
Everyone expected them to be close to Enhypen, but even they're not.
Word says that Yunjin and Heeseung were together at one point until he cruelly broke it off with her, reasons unknown. 
So far, you've been keeping your head down and avoiding anything to do with those two groups.
Still, it would be nice to have a friend. Someone to talk to when you need an ear.
Walking to your next class, your head is buried in your phone, not paying attention to where you're going.
Suddenly, you fall back as you hit a hard wall.
Landing right on your butt, you look up to find Heeseung staring down at you. 
You stutter for a moment, trying to find words.
Everyone around you is frozen, waiting for something to happen.
You expect Heeseung to rip into you, and all you muster is a quiet, “I'm sorry.”
Ready to pick yourself up, you reach for your phone when a hand is offered.
It's Heeseung, and he looks at you expectantly.
Is this a trick? Is he going to help you up and then yell at you?
You take his hand, and he pulls you up quickly.
You can't bring yourself to look into his eyes, muttering, “I'm sorry again; I should've watched where I was going.”
With that, you move around him, walking to your class.
Whispers follow you, and you hear one person comment, “I can't believe that just happened. Why didn't he blow up at her?” 
So he should've yelled at you? At least, that's what you're getting from that person.
Why didn't he?
Did you leave before he could? Or did he know you were a friendless loser and didn't want to embarrass you further?
Would he have that kind of empathy?
His face was expressionless. You can't tell what he wanted to do.
Something stirred in your stomach, a feeling of fear. 
Why does it feel like this won't be the last time you encounter Lee Heeseung?
The rest of your day went by agonizingly slow. You couldn't wait to get back to your apartment and soak in your tub. 
The streets are quiet, multiple shops and stores closing for the night.
As you walk, you get this sickening feeling that you're being watched.
You speed up, almost running.
Your apartment is still a few minutes away and you can only pray you get there quickly.
Suddenly, you bump into a hard wall, screaming as someone grabs your wrists.
“Woah, it's just me!”
Heeseung stands in front of you, letting go of your wrists to put his hands up.
“You scared the shit out of me! Why would you do that?”
He looks taken aback for a moment before his face softens. 
“I'm sorry! I just saw you walking alone and figured I should walk you home.”
You narrow your eyes at him, “Why would you want to walk me home? You don't even know me.”
“It can get dangerous around here sometimes, there's been reports of people disappearing these last couple of days and it's not safe to walk alone.”
You look at him, “Are you lying to kidnap me or something?”
He shakes his head, “No, I swear I'm not!”
Crossing your arms, you look him up and down.
“Put your arms out,” you say, spreading your arms into a t for him to follow.
He complies, albeit reluctantly.
You, without warning, start patting him down, from his shoulders to his ankles.
Heeseung looks at you like you're crazy, but he doesn’t put his arms down.
To finish your inspection, you quietly check his front pockets before moving to his back pockets. His arms come down to hold yours.
“If you wanted to touch my ass that badly you could've just asked.”
He's smirking, looking at you as you glare at him.
“Don't flatter yourself, it's not like you got much back there anyway.”
“Hey!”
You giggle, walking around him to continue your way home as he follows you like a puppy.
“What happened to the timid girl who apologized for bumping into me earlier?”
You shrug, “Now that I know there's nothing to be scared of, I see no reason to be timid.”
“Why would you be scared of me?” He asks, eyebrows furrowing.
You have to admit he looks cute. 
“Well considering what people say about you, I was expecting you to yell at me.” 
He looks down, “I admit sometimes I have a temper, although I'm not proud of it.” 
You nod in understanding, “I get it.”
Before you know it, you've reached your apartment complex.
He walks you all the way to your door, waiting as you unlock it.
“Thank you, I appreciate it,” you say, giving Heeseung a genuine smile.
“Don't worry about it.”
With that, you go inside, and Heeseung begins to walk away. 
The next day, you're in the campus courtyard when a phone is suddenly shoved into your field of vision.
Looking up, it's Hanni, a girl you met in your psych class.
You wouldn't call yourselves friends exactly, more like acquaintances.
“What am I meant to be looking at?” You ask, taking the phone from her.
“You and Heeseung on the school's blog! 
You look down, and it's a photo of you and Heeseung from the other night.
His arms are holding yours while your hands are conveniently placed on his ass. 
Your faces are illuminated by the street lamp you were standing under.
“Who took this?” You ask. Looking around, it's like everyone has their eyes on you, gossiping and whispering to each other.
“Nobody knows, it came from an anonymous source!” Hanni replies.
“Has everyone seen this?”
“I think so, I was in my English class when I got a text from another friend. Everyone in that class was looking at their phones, including Yunjin.”
Yunjin? Shit. 
Everyone knows about Yunjin and Heeseung's history. If she thinks there's something going on between you and Heeseung, she'll surely come after you.
You stand up abruptly, handing Hanni her phone back. 
“I have to go to class, I'll see you.”
With that, you walk away, speed walking to your next class.
Just as you're about to walk in, a hand grabs your wrist, pulling you back.
It's Heeseung, and he's looking at you with worry. 
“Are you okay? You look scared.”
“Did you see the school's blog? We can't be seen together, it'll only bring trouble for me so please, leave me alone.”
You try to free your wrist, but Heeseung grips tighter.
“What do you mean? Did someone threaten you?”
“Not yet, but I don't think your ex-girlfriend would like us hanging around each other.”
Heeseung's face contorts into one of disbelief. “You're worried about Yunjin? Y/N she can't hurt you, even if she wanted to.”
“Maybe not physically, but she's powerful enough that she could hurt me academically. Run to her rich daddy and get me expelled or something!”
“That won't happen, Y/N.”
You're frustrated at this point.
“Why do you want to hang around me anyway? We don't know each other! I mean, what do you call this? A popular guy suddenly hanging around a random girl?”
Heeseung pulls you towards him until there's little to no space between you.
“Call it what it is, Y/N… attraction.”
His voice is low, and it almost makes you weak in the knees. 
But you won’t let him get to you, not like this. 
You finally free your wrist from his grip, walking away into your class.
You avoid everyone's eyes the rest of the day, but the whispers follow you everywhere.
“She's crazy going after Heeseung.”
“What a slut.”
“I hope Yunjin gets her.”
You've also been avoiding every glimpse of Yunjin or her friends. You can't take any chances.
As you're leaving campus, you spot Heeseung. 
He's with his friends, but as soon as he spots you, he starts jogging in your direction. 
“I told you to leave me alone.”
“You know I can't do that,” he says, coming to face you.
You continue to walk, and he continues to follow you. 
“I told you I'd walk you home.”
“I don't need you, Heeseung.”
“But I want you.”
You stop, “Again, Heeseung, you don't even know me. You don't know anything about me.”
“Then tell me. I want to know everything about you.”
“Why! Why are you so infatuated with me?”
Heeseung grabs your shoulders, “I can explain Y/N, just give me a chance.”
You don't know why, but he sounds just convincing enough.
When you reach your apartment, you quietly let him in.
“So, spill. What's got you so obsessed with me?”
Heeseung sits on your couch while you sit on the coffee table in front of him.
“I could smell it. It was so sweet it almost made me sick. Then, you bumped into me, and I knew right then and there. You were meant for me, Y/N.”
You can't help it, but you burst out laughing.
“Okay, I've heard some crazy shit in my life, but this has to be the craziest. What the hell are you talking about?”
Heeseung pouts, yes pouts. You never think a grown man has looked cuter.
“I'm serious, Y/N. Look, the truth is… I'm a vampire.”
You tilt your head, “A vampire? Come on, Heeseung, it's not Halloween.”
Heeseung sighs before he sits up. He takes your hands into his and opens his mouth. Within seconds, two long fangs protrude from his gums, coming to rest next to his incisors. 
You scream, pulling away from him so quickly that you flip yourself over the coffee table. 
Heeseung stands up, rushing over to help you but you back away on your butt, “Stop, get away!”
“Don't be like that. I tried to tell you!”
“Well sorry I wouldn't actually believe a guy trying to tell me he's a fucking vampire! It's not like it's common!”
“I'm not gonna hurt you, I promise. I just need you to understand me.”
“Understand what?” You say exasperated.
“That you're meant for me. We're meant for each other. I wouldn't have smelled you if it weren't true.”
“Heeseung. I just found out you're a vampire, and you're telling me this like I'm meant to just give in and get it. I don't get it!” 
“You're my soulmate, Y/N.”
“Soulmate? Soulmate, my ass! W-we don't know each other! How can I be your soulmate?”
“Because the universe doesn't lie. I was made for you, and you were made for me. I know it sounds crazy but I wouldn't lie about this.”
Heeseung offers a hand, and reluctantly, you take it. He pulls you up, bringing his hand to your face to cradle it. 
“You don't know how much this means to me, how much you mean to me. I've waited my whole life to meet my soulmate. Now, I have you here and I don't think I could ever let you go.”
You look into his eyes, trying to find some look of deceit or dishonor, but you can't find one.
His warm hand against your cheek feels comforting, you can't help but nuzzle into it.
“I… I can't say I'm not inclined to believe you. I've never thought about having a soulmate but… I guess I'm not opposed.”
Heeseung smiles, “I need you, Y/N. Let me show you how much.”
You nod, “Show me.”
With that, he dives in, connecting your lips.
The kiss is feverish, lips smacking, and teeth bumping. 
It's like he's been holding this in forever.
His tongue enters your mouth, and before you know it, he's backed you up to the door of your bedroom.
You open the door, guiding him back to your bed. As he lays you on it, you can't help but think how crazy you are for allowing this. A guy you've known for a mere two days, telling you he's a vampire and you're soulmate? Yet you can't find it in you to care. 
Heeseung shows you how much he cares about you that night.
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note: pls ignore any typos/grammar issues. this was gonna be a full fic but im lazy so 🤷🏽‍♀️
enjoy this pls, ill be posting more soon!
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yinorathedragontamer · 6 months ago
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Wings? [Charles Rowland x fem! alive! supernatural! reader]
a/n: this is quite the long oneshot, longer than expected, but i really enjoyed writing this! i hope you guys enjoy, and feel free to request fics such as these whenever you'd like <3
word count: around 2k.
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"Here, this will be your room, rent is weekly and that is your roommate [name]" Jenny says as she hands Crystal the keys to the room, and gestures a little vaguely at the girl standing infront of them both. "hey Jenny, i thought you said i'd get one roommate, not three?" you ask as you glance at the two boys standing behind who you now know as Crystal, one of them looking intrigued and the other mainly just confused, and Crystal tilts her head a little as if she just made a new discovery "did you forget to take your meds again [name]? there's just Crystal" Jenny rolls her eyes and turns around to leave, saying something about why she even lets you stay here as she walks back to the front of the shop. "so, uh, you can see us?" one of the boys asks, and you take a step back from the sudden startle "oh, sorry mate, didn't mean to startle you, i'm Charles, and this is Edwin" he gives you a charming smile, and you quickly look at Crystal, who, hopefully gently, jabs him in the ribs with her elbow. "Sorry about that, don't worry, i see them too, as you heard from Jenny, my name's Crystal" she holds out a hand to shake, which you slightly hesitantly take "i'm [name]..." "so, are you a psychic like Crystal or have you had a near-death experience?" the one who you heard was called Edwin asks as he takes out a notebook and a pen to write down your answer, and you notice Charles giving him a look that says 'really dude?'. "uh, well, i'm not really sure? strange things have been happening since i was a child, doctors gave me meds for it but they didn't exactly work" you answer. "hm, what kind of strange things? we're the dead boy detectives, me and Charles, i suppose Crystal here joined us recently, but we solve supernatural cases" "yeah, my demon ex-boyfriend stole my memories so, yeah, i'm trying to get them back" Crystal adds. "dead boy detectives? are you two ghosts?" you ask. "yeah, you got that right" Charles says with a bright smile, the type that you would instantly think about if you had to think about him. "right, okay, in that case..." you start to tell your story. "for as long as i can remember, i've been seeing things that others never seemed to notice, the earliest memory i have was that i went to a museum, i was quite young, and i saw someone staring at a wall, and when i got closer i saw that his entire face was cut up, like, something had mauled him, i ran away crying, but my mom said it was all in my head" you continue. "another time was a few years later, i was on the school playground, and since people said i was weird, other kids refused to play with me. i saw this dog, a real sweetheart, and started playing with it, it was only when a teacher came to ask me what i was doing that i was told there was nothing there, and when i looked back at the dog, it dissappeared". "any more recent things? something that doesn't include seeing ghosts? because that would indicate you probably just had a near death experience that you didn't realize, such as getting run over by a, what was it called Charles? a car?" Edwin asks, "jeez, when did you die?" you say with clear disbelief that he forgot what exactly a car was for a second. "he died in the edwardian era, then spent like, 70 years in hell before he got out, i died in the 80's, and stuck around with him" Charles says with a slight shrug. "oh shit, okay, so to answer your question, it was like, eight months ago, i woke up, and i had this" you take off your shirt, Edwin instantly averts his eyes to the floor, meanwhile Charles looks at Edwin instead. you turn around, and show them the tattoo of two bug-like wings going from your shoulderblades down your back. "damn, those are.... really cool"
Crystal says with a nod, and Edwin quickly writes it down. "and what's so strange about that? isn't it just a cool tattoo?" he inquires, not quite getting the strange thing about them yet. "well, i never got a tattoo before in my life, i never got these willingly, and sometimes, i have this nearly painful ache on my back, and when i do it's the worst where the tattoo begins, on my shoulder blades" you answer as you put your shirt back on, much to Edwin's relief as he really wasn't used to seeing stuff like that out of nowhere.
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that first meeting? that was a few weeks ago, and you have become close friends with all of them.
Crystal has become like a sister to you, Niko has joined the team now too after you guys saved her, and even Edwin has been more kind to you, he has his charms sometimes.
and Charles? oh, where to begin.
you two are like two peas in a pod, and at first, Edwin did NOT like that, but he's been more than kind about it now.
at this point, he practically ALWAYS tells you two to go together for cases, and as close as you two are, you hate it.
why? you've fallen, and not even a little.
those smiles he gives you, the way his first concern was you when he got out of that loop in the haunted house, the way he always offers to put your stuff in his infinite bag, the accent, the looks he gives you sometimes, and it's terrible!
you swear its unnatural, to fall for a person who's been dead for decades, to have fallen for someone who probably doesn't love you that way.
nah, you're reading into things, atleast, thats what you tell yourself.
he however? he's the exact same.
the reason why Edwin keeps pairing you two up is because he figured out that Charles likes you, a lot, to the point where Charles had to make a deal with Niko for her to shut up about it too, before you found out.
no way you'd like a person who's already dead right?
when he thought of you, he thought about you making fun of his accent, your wing tattoos, the way you tried to keep his focus on solving the case and on you instead of the murderous scene when you guys were in that house, the way your grin was to die for as you asked about what the 80's were like, the way you hugged him and told him to never do that again as soon as he was out of that dreaded loop, he could swear he saw tears of relief in those gorgeous eyes of yours.
"hey Edwin, i saw 12 cats in total outside, just so you know" you say as you walk in with the groceries for the week, since you and Crystal did still have to eat. Edwin nods and quietly thanks you for helping him count all the cats, Charles walks through the wall into your bedroom before you can say anything, he wanted to tell you how he feels but, was it worth the risk? it would be rather awkward since you'd still have to talk to eachother nearly constantly.
you notice it, though, and you quickly take off your jacket before going into your room too.
"hey Charles, i need to talk to you about something" you say a little nervously, were you really going to do this? really?
"ofcourse mate, what's up?" he tries to sound relaxed, but you don't seem to notice as you quickly ramble on about something he only understands half of.
"yeahsoireallylikeyoulikemorethanafriendandicantreallyhandlehidingitanymoreandireallyloveyoursmileandialwaysendupthinkingaboutyouwhenevericantsleepandihadtopayNikooffusingmanga'stoconvincehertokeepquietbutyeahthatsallpleasedonthateme-" Charles looks at you with confusion, and you take a deep breath.
"okay, so, long story short, summery of that ramble, i really like you, i don't know how, since like, i'm alive and you're dead- wait was that rude? i didn't mean-" before you can finish, you feel his hands on your cheeks as he kisses you, and ofcourse you kiss back.
he pulls away, and look you in the eyes with a loving smile, one you have never seen before "i like you too, so don't even worry about it"
"we'll figure everything out together, yeah?" all you can do is nod as a grin finds its way on you face.
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you woke up with a scream.
your back hurts like hell, and you can feel blood coming down onto the sheets.
in a panic, you quickly go to the bathroom, rushing right past a just woken up Crystal who looks worried.
once in the bathroom, you take off your shirt, though not without struggle as the pain on your back makes it extremely painful to lift your arms so high.
as you take off your shirt, your eyes widen in even more panic as you see the blood that seeped onto it, and you turn around infront of the mirror, seeing blood trickling down your back from your shoulder blades, and... two wings, covered in that same blood, they look exactly like the tattoo you had, but then real.
before you can do any more panicking you hear a knock on the door.
"[name]? you in there? what's wrong?" it's Crystal, though before you can say anything you hear more voices.
"Love? you alright? i'm coming in there if you don't answer, you sounded like you were in pain" Charles. oh no.
he can't see this?! what would he think? you look disgusting, with a bedhead and a bloody back.
"no! no, please just let Edwin in, i can't let you two see me like this.." you say as a few tears roll down your face, apparently your voice sounded like it too as Charles was ready to barge in through the wall anyway if Crystal didn't keep a hold on his arm.
less than a minute later, Edwin comes in, and his eyes widen as he sees the state you are in, and he quickly leaves again.
you stare at yourself in the bathroom mirror as he comes back with a book on... fairy's?
"it's not just about fairy's, it's also about fairy type blessings that they might give to people who went through a lot of negetivity in their life, and what type of blessings they give, clearly we need to figure out yours." he explains before you can question him.
"here it says it's a blessing of the ignored, given to someone who got ignored and waved away whenever they tried to say or convince someone of anything, and the wings were bound to sprout when you feel like you're ready for it, even though you aren't aware of what you're ready for" he explains, and he takes a good look at the 'instructions' of how to atleast clean them up.
"right, i'd say, take a hot shower, put on something like a... backless top or dress? i believe you have those? and we can show Charles, Crystal and Niko and we'll figure out what to do"
all you can do it nod as he leaves again, and you hear some light arguing between him and Charles before you hear Crystal interrupting them and convincing Charles to just sit down at the table and wait.
you took a good, warm shower, though you could instantly tell your wings were sensitive, but tough at the same time.
you put a towel around yourself, and luckily you have a door straight to your bedroom, which Crystal uses aswell, as then she doesn't have to walk past Charles and Edwin when she has showered.
you put on a backless top that you got a year back, but never got to wear as it's usually too cold for it, and some simple jeans and shoes.
you walk out, and see Charles instantly looking relieved as he gets up, though he can tell there's something going on as it's much too cold for that top, and Crystal walks past you in awe as she comes out of her room too, Niko also just walked in from the door with Edwin, and he nods to you to turn around.
and you do.
at first your'e nervous, but then you hear the gasps of awe and you feel Charles gently touch one of them, which makes it twitch a little.
"i did more research when you were showering, turns out the first times are most painful, but you can control wether or not they are as a tattoo or as usable wings, though obviously you must train to do anything with them at all, such as flying. i reccomend that you get more backless tops or tanktops that leave the shoulderblades free, so if we're on a case you could simply take off your shirt and free those wings incase it's needed"
you nod, and before you do anything else, you turn back around, and you spread them.
you look at the floor, but Charles lifts your head back up to meet his eyes, full of wonder. "those are awesome, yeah? we'll help you figure everything out, as always"
"i believe we've gotten a new case, huh?" Crystal says with a slight smile, and you smile back.
you let your wings relax, and without even thinking too much of it, they go back to their tattoo form.
"i suppose we do" Edwin replies.
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sidekick-hero · 8 months ago
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(steddie | mature | 2k | tags: established relationship, post-s4, Valentine's Day, Robin is the best, fluff | summary: Steve loves Eddie, he really, really does. He just can't say it. | @steddielovemonth prompt Love is just a four-letter word by @sal-si-puedes | AO3)
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"He probably thinks I don't love him, Robin. Which is... ridiculous. I do! I really, really do. I just can't say it." Steve is pacing around the blissfully empty Family Video Store, his hands making a mess of his hair as they run through it in frustration.
"This is so stupid. I* am* so stupid, it's just four stupid letters, even a preschooler can say it," he rambles, his eyes wild as they look at Robin. "Why am I like this, Robbie?" His voice breaks, along with his heart, at the thought of Eddie doubting Steve's feelings for him for even a second.
Robin walks over to him and grips his shoulders tightly, her blue eyes boring into his as she says in her firmest you-listen-to-me-now voice. "You're not stupid. This is my best friend you're talking about, so watch it." That earns her at least a half-smile, which counts as a victory considering Steve was already pinching his nose to hold back tears.
"I know you love him, Steve. Everyone knows it. One look at you when he's in the room, or even when you're just talking about him, is enough to know you love him. And I'm sure Eddie knows it too. He has to."
Robin's words soothe some of the fear in Steve's heart, knowing that she would tell him if she really thought he had messed up. But even though it's okay now, Eddie won't wait forever for Steve to say those three little words. No one would. Steve knows that his heart couldn't take being with Eddie, loving Eddie and telling him that, only to never hear it back from him.
"I don't know. Even if you're right, I feel like I'm losing him. That something in me is broken, and one day he'll realize that too, and then he'll leave." With an even smaller voice Steve adds: "I can't lose him, Robbie".
They don't hug very often. Robin shows her affection in many ways, but most of them aren't overly physical. That's Eddie's job, clinging to Steve like a koala most days, always touching Steve in some way, even if it's just his shoulder nudging Steve's. Robin pulling him into a tight hug now means a lot to him, but it's also a testament to the gravity of the situation.
With their arms around each other between the horror and action movie sections, Steve takes a moment to just soak in the comfort she offers. What happened at Starcourt messed them both up, caused them both more trauma than any teenager should have to deal with, but on a very selfish level, Steve can't help but be grateful that it happened. A life without Robin Buckley sounds like the greater horror to him.
After a few minutes, Robin gently pulls away from Steve to look at him. He's reluctant to let her go, even though he knows this is an even longer hug than the one she gave him when Nancy told him they weren't getting back together after defeating Vecna. She wanted to go to Boston, make a career, see the world. And Steve? Steve wanted a home, a place to belong, and someone to share that home with. They wanted different things, he realizes now.
That doesn't mean it didn't open old wounds, memories of how it felt to be rejected by her, his love for her thrown in his face like it was worthless. Bullshit.
As attuned to him and his thoughts as ever, a true testament to the fact that they share a brain cell, Robin says, "I think it's understandable that you can't say it. The last time you told someone you loved them, you were hurt, badly. Your heart is probably just trying to protect itself. Like a kid who touched a hot stove and got burned wouldn't touch another stove, you know?"
Steve nods, because in a way it makes sense. It just doesn't help him to know.
"But what am I supposed to do, Robin? It's not Eddie's fault that I'm broken."
"You, Steve Harrington, are not broken. Just a little bruised. There is nothing wrong with you just because you got hurt and have the scars to show for it. Like Max, because of the injuries to her leg, she cannot walk like she used to before Vecna, so she uses her crutch. She's not broken. Is she?"
"No, of course not. If anything, she's even stronger now, I saw her hit Lucas with the crutch and tell him to hurry up on the way to the movies," Steve says, smiling at the memory.
"See!" Robin waves her hand at him in excitement, almost bouncing with it. "All you need is a crutch!"
They look at each other wide-eyed before matching smiles break out on their faces, Robin's giddy at having found a solution, Steve's reflecting the tentative hope blossoming in his chest.
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His talk with Robin certainly helped, but as Valentine's Day approaches, the fears and insecurities start to creep back in. It's not even like Eddie is giving him any indication that he's not happy with Steve or their relationship. Quite the opposite, in fact.
Eddie tells him he loves him almost every time they see each other, at the most random moments. Some days he whispers it in Steve's ear to wake him up, other days it's his way of saying good night to him with his arm around Steve's waist and his hand over Steve's heart in a protective grip. He says it casually when Steve brings him breakfast in bed or lunch to the record store where he now works. Just yesterday he said it while Steve was buried deep inside him, their hands intertwined beside Eddie's head and brown eyes looking softly up at Steve.
It's not meant to make him feel bad about himself, he knows that.
He still does.
So when he opens his front door to the sight of Eddie standing on his doorstep in his nicest jeans and a forest green button-down Steve has never seen before, clearly having put some real effort into his appearance, Steve almost crumbles.
He's a shitty boyfriend, isn't he? There's this amazing guy who goes out of his way to look nice for Steve, even though he doesn't even like Valentine's Day, just because he knows it's important to Steve. And he can't even tell him he loves him.
Some of what he's feeling must be showing on his face, because Eddie's cheerful smile falls and he hurries into the house to pull Steve into his arms, slamming the door shut with his foot.
"Sweetheart, I'm sorry, I told Dustin green wasn't my color, but he insisted. I look hideous, don't I?"
That makes Steve snort wetly into Eddie's neck before muttering a fond "Idiot" into it.
Eddie just hums, obviously pleased with himself for making Steve laugh. "You can tell me. You know I don't mind getting naked for you."
"You're getting a little ahead of yourself, aren't you?"
Eddie grinned wolfishly at him. "I don't know, the tear in my Hellfire shirt from when you ripped it off me begs to differ."
Steve blushes at the memory, even as he laughs at Eddie's words. Instead of saying anything else, Steve pulls him back into his arms and Eddie goes willingly.
"Hi, baby," he says, his nose brushing behind Steve's ear.
"Hi." Steve breathes him in, the smell of cigarette smoke and his shampoo strong where his nose is buried in Eddie's hair.
They don't let go for a long time.
It's Eddie who pulls back first, and Steve does his best not to read into it. "You want to tell me what's going on?"
The Steve from before the Upside Down would have just shaken his head and told Eddie that everything was fine before pulling him into the bedroom to reassure them both that it was. Not talking about his feelings, fears, and needs might have worked for hookups, but he learned the hard way that it doesn't work when you want to be in a relationship.
So Steve takes Eddie's hand and leads him over to the couch where they both sit facing each other. They don't let go of each other's hands.
"I know you're probably wondering why I haven't told you... why I haven't said it yet."
Eddie's eyebrows disappear behind his fringe. "It?"
Sighing, Steve watches his fingers run over Eddie's knuckles. "You know. That I love you."
"Oh."
It's hard to place Eddie's tone, and even harder to place the silence that follows, but it makes his knee jiggle with nerves and his stomach churn. Usually it's Eddie who tends to fill the silence between them when it feels too big, too heavy, but today it's Steve.
"It's not because I don't want to, I swear. It's just," another frustrated sigh, the hand currently not held by Eddie's rubbing over his face, "I just can't say it. And I am so, so sorry, because you deserve to hear it. Every day. But I can't... I can't. So I understand if you don't want to do this anymore. You deserve better, Eddie. You really, really do."
Eddie lets Steve's words settle between them, aching and raw, but he never lets go of Steve's hand.
"You're right," he finally says, and the sound of Steve's heart breaking is deafening to his own ears. Pinching his nose, he tries to take his hand back from Eddie, but his boyfriend (if he can still call him that) won't budge. "You're right about me wondering, Steve. But that was before."
Looking up, a frown forming between his eyebrows, Steve asks, "Before?"
"Before I realized that you do tell me that you love me, every day. You say it when you tiptoe around the trailer in the morning to make breakfast without waking me. You tell me every time you pack an extra blanket or sweater when we go to the quarry because you know I always get cold. I hear it loud and clear every time you bring me lunch, even though it means you waste most of your own lunch break driving around town. It's in the way you try so hard to make Wayne like you because you know how much that means to me, and in the way you hold me after another nightmare, and in the way you kiss me sometimes like there's nothing in the world you'd rather be doing, without it having to lead anywhere, just because you like kissing me."
Eddie scooted forward and bridged the gap between them by taking Steve's face in his hands.
"Steve, you've been telling me you love me for months with everything except words. I don't really need them. It's just a four-letter word."
And, fuck, now Steve is crying. Eddie wipes away his tears with his thumbs, and when that's not enough, he kisses them away with his lips.
Steve is so in love with him that he has no idea how the feeling even fits in his body.
"Damn," he chuckles wetly, "that means I didn't even have to find a crutch?"
Now it's Eddie's turn to look at Steve in confusion, clearly worried that his boyfriend might have lost his mind. "What crutch? Is this a sex thing?"
Laughing and shaking his head fondly, Steve raises his free hand to his head, palm facing Eddie. Then he brings his thumb, index finger, and little finger up, keeping his ring and middle fingers down, before moving his hand back and forth slightly.
"Robin came up with this. She said if I couldn't say the words with my mouth, maybe I could say them in a different way. I thought of trying sign language," Steve adds sheepishly.
Before he knows what's happening, Eddie is on top of him, pressing him into the couch with his body weight and showering his face with kisses.
"You're so smart," kiss, "and beautiful," kiss, "and wonderful," kiss, "and I love you so much." The last part is accompanied by a lingering kiss on his lips and Steve melts under it.
Even though he obviously didn't have to tell Eddie this way, Steve is glad that he did.
He also thinks it won't be long before he can say those words, too. If anyone can help him walk without a crutch, it's Eddie.
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forever-rogue · 2 years ago
Note
may i request one where joel finds comfort hugging reader in a bone crushing hug after a long day 👉👈
do with it what you will fluff angst spice ill take them allll i just want this man to crush me and id welcome it hehe
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AN | One bone-crushing hug with a side of angst and softness coming right up 🥰
Pairing | Joel Miller x Fem!Reader
Warnings | Language
Word Count | 2k
Masterlist | Joel, Main
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
You looked at the watch on your wrist and sighed softly. The watch didn't work. It hadn't for a long time. 
But he'd given it to you and that made it special. You'd never taken it off, even when the battery died. He insisted he'd get you a new watch or even a new battery at the very least. You never took him up on the offer; it didn't matter to you whether or not ticked away as long as you had it.
Normally it served as a bit of reassurance. Today it served as a reminder that he was gone. Not gone, but gone for long enough that you were starting to get worried. Not that you would ever admit that to anyone. You didn't want to appear weak, but you also didn't want to cause anyone else to worry.
But this wasn't like Joel; he was never gone for more than two or three days at most.
It had been over a week.
And not knowing what happened to your lover was brutal.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
"Worryin' isn't going to solve anything."
"Well, not worrying isn't solving anything either," you threw a hard look at Tommy and shrugged before going back to your relentless pacing, "so if I have the option, I'll choose worrying."
"It's probably the bad weather," he mused, and you were sure he was trying to convince himself of that as much as you, "could be a lot of things. Jumping to the worst possible conclusion isn't…"
"I love your eternal optimism," you stood in front of the windows and looked towards the gate as you often did, "but I'd rather expect the worst and be pleasantly surprised when he comes back. Versus the alternative."
The younger Miller brother nodded before letting out a long sigh, "I know."
"I'm scared, Tommy. It was supposed to be a simple supply run," stopping suddenly, you turned to him, eyes glittering with unscheduled tears, "what if he doesn't come back? It shouldn't have taken this long. I don't know what I'll do. I-I…"
He remained but hugged you tightly, trying to soak in all the worry and doubt you had. If it was an option, he would have taken all the worry and fear from you and dealt with it himself. If only.
"Why don't you go home for now and get some rest?" he suggested softly, wiping away the tears that had rolled down your cheeks, "I'll stay here. I'll let you know if anything changes."
"Tommy-"
"Go and be with the kids," he whispered as your heart panged. You knew Ellie was just as worried about you, but she was the glue holding you all together right now, "they need you too."
"Okay," you nodded, "thank you."
"It'll be okay," he promised and you desperately wanted to hang onto his hope. All you could do was give him a small nod.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
By the time you got home, you were spent and felt like you could use a year long nap. You closed the door behind out and let out a long sigh, letting go of everything you'd been holding back as you kicked your shoes off. 
You heard Ellie's voice in the living accompanied by a small set of giggles. Your heart softened at the sound and your heart yearned to be with them. You shred your coat before making your way over to them, Ellie on the floor on a big fluffy blanket as she played with the little girl. Your little girl; but really they were both your girls.  
The two of them stopped as soon as they heard you, Ellie offering you a small smile and Emma babbling and cooing happily. There had never been anyone you'd loved more than these two…and Joel. 
You walked over to them and sat down, pressing a kiss to the top of Ellie's head before pulling the baby into your lap. She squirmed as she tried to hug onto you, "she's been really talkative today. As much as a one-year-old can be."
"I wonder who she gets that from," she teased, causing the girl to grin sheepishly.
"Definitely not Joel."
"Definitely not Joel," you agreed. You sat back against the couch let out a long breath as you pulled up your legs and laid Emma against them, giving her tickles which only caused her to laugh harder.
"She looks like him," Ellie stroked her rosy, chubby cheek as you nodded. She had the same big, brown eyes and roguish hair, her expression often appearing as though she was deep in thought, "he's going to be okay, you know."
"Ellie…"
"I mean it," she insisted in that steadfast way she often did, "he'd never leave you or her o-or…"
"You," you finished for her, "we're all family, Ellie Bean."
"Yeah," she sat next to you and leaned her head on your shoulder, "he'll come back. Nothing would stop him."
"You're right," and god, you hoped she and Tommy were right, "he'll be home soon."
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
Several more agonizing days passed without any word, and the nagging feeling in the pit of your stomach felt like it was going to eat you alive. Even Ellie, happy, optimistic Ellie, was started to show signs of worry. She’d never admit it, but she didn’t have to; it was written all over your face. You were just glad that Emma was still a baby and wouldn’t remember any of this.
That thought alone had led you down a rabbit hole of worry. What if he didn’t come back? What if she never got to see her father again? What if she didn’t remember him? How were you supposed to raise and take care of Ellie and Emma all on your own? 
You groaned as you startled awake for what was the umpteenth night in a row. You hadn’t been sleeping much; every time you managed to fall deep enough into slumber, the dreams - nightmares - came again and caused you to wake up. Most of the time you ended up giving up on sleep and would sit in the kitchen, nursing a mug of tea that grew cold as the sun came up. 
A book was currently in front of you, one you’d read a hundred times before, but you weren’t actually taking anything in. Your mind kept wandering, wandering, wandering. You were so lost in thought and so zoned out at the same time that you almost missed the pounding on the door. You almost ran to the door when you snapped back into reality, trying to keep the noise from waking the girls up. 
When you got to the door, you wretched it open without even looking to see who it was. It was Tommy, wild-eyed and looking somewhere between excited and nervous. 
“Come,” he didn’t hesitate to grab your arm as he pulled you out of the door, “come.”
“What’s going on?” you looked at him, confused but going along with him. You noticed that the front gate was closing and a group of people were nearby. The hairs on your arms stood up as a shiver ran down your spine, “Tommy?”
The crowd slowly parted and you felt like your heart felt like it stopped in your chest. Part of you wondered if you were dreaming, but you felt Tommy squeeze your shoulder, “go.”
Your feet were carrying you, faster and faster until the rest of the crowd dissipated and you found yourself face to face with him. 
“Joel,” you hadn’t even realized you were crying, weren’t consciously aware of anything else but him. 
You didn’t get a chance to say anything else before he threw his arms around you, wrapping into the tightest, most bone-crushing hug imaginable. You didn’t care; you wouldn’t have cared if his touch bruised you black and blue. It was him, he was home, he was here. 
You held him back just as fiercely, and you could physically feel the tension in his body ease as he let himself relax into your familiar touch. You weren’t even sure how long he you, how long you clung onto his body before you finally parted. 
He took your face in his hands, his touch calloused but tender as he studied, almost as if he too didn’t believe you were real. He looked worse for the wear, but nothing unmanageable, nothing that would take him from you. And then he smiled, the same wonderful, lovely smile that made his dimple appear and the corners of his eyes crinkle, “sweet, beautiful abejita. I heard you were already planning my funeral.”
A moment of silence passed before you burst into laughter, tears - this time of joy and happiness - running down your face. Joel brushed them all away before kissing you softly. There was no way to properly put into words how much you’d missed this, him. When you pulled back you felt his arms wrap around your waist, “even if you didn’t come back, I’d find you and kill you myself if you thought you were going to get away with leaving me with two monsters to raise on my own.”
“Fuck, I’ve missed you,” you buried your face into his chest and breathed him in. It didn’t matter that he was sweaty and dirty; him being here was enough, “you and that mouth and everything else about you.”
“I’ve missed you too,” you looped your arms around his neck and held onto him tightly, hugging him as you rocked back and forth, “I love you.”
“Terribly,” he agreed in the way that he was prone to doing, “I’ll always come back home to my girls. Even if I have to come crawling back.”
“Joel!” the small voice came from behind you. You turned to find Ellie there, holding a warmly bundled up Emma in her arms. Word got around fast, “you’re back.”
He let out a sigh of relief at the sight of his girls, dropping to his knees in front of them as he looked them both over. The baby, miraculously, was still sleeping, but he stroked her cheek before repeating the gesture on Ellie. She swallowed thickly, tears unshed in her eyes as he hugged the two of them, gently, delicately. 
“I missed you both,” he promised, not that there had ever been a question on that. Ellie nodded, at a loss for words, “what, kid? No smart comment from you?”
“No,” she shook her head, a few tears falling down her cheeks, “I missed you. I’m glad you’re home, Joel.”
“Me too,” he promised, turning back to find you watching them with nothing but reverent fondness in your eyes, as you smiled at him, “me too.”
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dont-offend-the-bees · 5 months ago
Text
The Scenic Route
More dead boys! Post-canon, Payneland, pre-slash/getting together-ish, bestieism, bickering, sex talk/innuendo and soppiness. 2k. Enjoy!
Also on Ao3 (need to be signed in to read)
~
"Cheer up, Edwin," said Charles, brightly. "Might never happen."
Edwin gave Charles a look so haughty it had its own title. "It very much has happened, Charles." He sniffed and straightened out his newspaper with attitude, the rustle of it loud and sharp as a whip crack. "I don't see why we couldn't have simply hopped through the mirror and met Crystal there."
"At this point, Edwin, I'm in total fucking agreement," said Crystal, not opening her eyes. She was burrowed under her coat like a blanket, doing her best to make the uncomfortable upright seat look like a cosy bed. Fortunately this train car was basically empty, so she had space to stretch across two seats – and no one close by to comment on the floating newspaper across the table and the fact she was having a barney with it. "You're like, the worst person to travel with."
"He's just not used to taking the scenic route," Charles joked, nudging Edwin's shoulder. "Whole world out there if you look up from the crossword, mate."
"I've already finished the crossword," said Edwin.
"With my help," Crystal pointed out.
"I died in nineteen sixteen. How am I supposed to know which songstress recorded 'Strike Me Once More'?"
"’Hit Me Baby One More Time’," said Charles.
"Atrocious name for a song," Edwin muttered. "I was given to believe violence against women was frowned upon in this day and age. And yet here you are, making popular songs about it."
"It's a metaphor, innit?" said Charles. His brow furrowed. "I think. Haven't heard it."
"We get it. You're both old ," Crystal groaned. "Now shut up, I'm trying to sleep. Some of us still need to do that."
"You would've had more luck in my day," said Edwin, wrinkling his nose in distaste at their surroundings. "Decent benches, private compartments. Of course, travelling without a chaperone might’ve raised issues. I hardly think Charles and I count, given that no one but you can see us."
"And we're lads." Charles winked at her. "Fit, single lads."
Edwin gave him a withering look over his paper. "Yes, that as well." He flipped through to the personal ads, voice dry as a bone. "Lord only knows what tomfoolery we could be getting up to without supervision."
"No offense, Edwin," said Crystal. "But I don't see you and me getting up to 'tomfoolery' no matter what century we're in."
"Hm. Something else we can agree on."
"Well, I'm game," Charles grinned, folding his arms on the table and waggling his eyebrows. "Never done tomfoolery on a train before."
Crystal snorted. "Don't. Not fun. And don't ask me how I know that,” she said, cutting Charles off sharpish before he could quiz her. “Anyway, without Edwin's fancy private compartments your options are the bathroom or risk a sneaky handjob in your seat."
Edwin perked up. "There's that word again. Charles, you never did tell me what it means."
Charles winced. "Didn't I? Um. Right. Basically, yeah, it's when you..." 
"If you're gonna sit here giving grandpa a sex ed class, I am definitely getting up for coffee," Crystal muttered, throwing her coat aside and levering out of her seat. 
"Sure you don't wanna weigh in?" Charles called after her. He fully expected the middle finger she flipped him before stomping off down the aisle.
"So," said Edwin primly, newspaper set down in exhange for his notebook. He was poised and at the ready with his pen in two seconds flat. "Handjobs."
Charles squirmed. "It's not exactly arcane knowledge, mate," he said, struggling to look Edwin in the eye. "It's when you..." he made a strangled noise, and a descriptive hand gesture. "Y'know. For another bloke."
Edwin watched his hand, and realisation dawned. "Ah,"  he said, slowly tucking his book and pen away. "Indeed." He sniffed. "Crude name."
"Well, what would you call it?"
"Well. I haven't an equivalent term for the act as... bequeathed to another, so to speak.”
Charles bit his lip, holding back a grin. Who the fuck else in his life would use bequeathed in normal conversation? In a sex conversation? He crossed his arms before he could do something stupidly soppy and fond, like drop his head onto Edwin's shoulder and ask him to list his favourite words.
Edwin carried right on, oblivious to Charles' little moment. “But my father would've referred to the solo variation as ‘self-abuse’."
Charles snorted. "'Course he would."
"Yes, it was... a different time." He picked up his newspaper with an air of rigid discomfort. "People are certainly much more liberal in that regard nowadays."
"Yeah. Nowadays." Charles watched him closely. He'd always been a buttoned-up sort of chap, but. Since all that stuff in Port Townsend, with Monty and that bloody Cat King he'd... opened up, sort of. Wasn't going out snogging people or reading dirty mags in the office or anything, 'least not as far as Charles knew. But there was a curiosity in him, now. Something in those keen eyes that sparked up, latched onto certain things. All still wrapped up in good old fashioned Edwardian manners, of course, but Charles knew Edwin like the back of his hand – and he knew what his face did when he was interested in something. Just so happened what he'd been interested in lately was, well. Blokes. Some more than others. "You never try it then?" Charles teased. "The old, uh. Self-abuse?"
Edwin couldn't exactly, literally blush on account of being dead, but Charles could spot the signs. "Privacy was hard to come by," he said, carefully measured.
Charles raised his eyebrow. "But not impossible?"
"...No. No, not impossible." He cleared his throat. "Perhaps we should change the subject. Crystal will be returning shortly. Impolite to discuss it in mixed company."
Charles chuckled and sank back in his seat, casting his eyes out the window. The countryside rolled by, arid and golden. "Never been to France before."
"I suppose we haven't had any cases lead us here," said Edwin. "Nor have we had the need to travel through it," he added, voice clipped and curt. "Up until recently , that is."
"Got a right bee in your bonnet about the bloody travelling, haven't you?" said Charles. "C'mon, mate. Not like you and me are short of time, innit? Got all eternity to sit on bloody trains if we want to."
"I can think of better things to do with our time."
"Well – think of Crystal, yeah?" Charles reasoned. "I mean, she's alive. She's got what, eighty years or something left to be alive. How d’you think she feels 'bout having to spend half of it on public fucking transport?"
Edwin sighed. "Being alive was rather inefficient, in retrospect."
"I'm just saying... don't hurt to keep her company, eh?" He offered his best winning smile – and he had a good winning smile. “She's one of us, in't she?
Edwin rolled his eyes, but for once he didn't argue – Charles had him, and he knew it. "I'll... endeavour to be lenient," he offered.
"That's right big of you,” said Charles. He let their knees knock under the table. "Don't worry, not saying you have to be nice or anything. Just give the grumbling a rest for a bit, yeah?"
Edwin smirked. "Very wise of you to manage your expectations. 'Nice' is not a particular specialty of mine."
"I know." Charles grinned. "That's alright. I like it when you're a rude prick."
Edwin looked at him, and the hard lines of his face softened some. "Yes, you do seem to," he said; light, fond . "An ailment for which I fear there's no cure."
Charles ducked his head, smiling something daft. "We should do France properly sometime,” he said. “Go to Paris. Bet there's a load of old bookshops and that in Paris.”
Edwin brightened, with a little happy hum. "Capital idea, Charles. I haven't had reason to practice my French in some years." Then he sighed, proper dramatic. "Though I suppose we'll be taking the train again."
"Depends on if Crystal wants to come."
"Why wouldn't she?" Some of the stiffness had returned to Edwin's shoulders, but he was doing an alright job of hiding it. Anyone who wasn't Charles might not've noticed at all. "I daresay you two will want to take in the romantic sights while I peruse the booksellers."
Charles chuckled. 
Edwin flashed him an annoyed look. "It's a fair assumption."
"Yeah, well, we're not exactly like that."
"Is that so?"
Charles shrugged. "Had a bit of fun, but. She's still figuring some stuff out. Not looking for anything serious."
Edwin hummed, tightly, eyes fixed on the newspaper. 
Charles swallowed the lump of anxiety in his throat, and flicked the corner of the paper to get his attention. "Besides: had some stuff to figure out myself, too, haven't I?"
Edwin froze, the paper rustling in his hands as his fingers tightened on it. "Oh." He glanced furtively to Charles, while obviously trying not to look furtive. For a detective, he was a right crap actor, sometimes. "Yes. How is that... progressing?"
Charles rolled his neck, tilting his face in Edwin's direction. Edwin looked right strange, perched all prim and proper on the polyester train seat with its bowling alley fabric pattern. Charles could almost squint and see through time, to how he would've looked on a train in the nineteen hundreds; surrounded by wood panels and velvet, by family who wouldn't touch him unless it was to fix his hair, straighten his bowtie. He looked out of place here – but he was right next to Charles, so actually, he was exactly where he ought to be. And the afternoon sun on the yellow fields looked dead pretty scattered across his cheekbones and his nose and that neat, handsome sweep of dark hair from his temple.
Yeah. Charles was figuring a thing or two out, alright.
He looked away and fidgeted, trying to shut his eyes and settle back in his seat in a way that looked relaxed, unbothered – and not like he was trying to avoid looking too closely at his best mate's lips or his eyes or his long, clever fingers. "Let's make it just a you and me thing," he said. "Paris, I mean."
There was a moment of quiet, then the sound of Edwin's newspaper coming to rest on the plastic table. "...Yes. Yes, I'd like that."
Charles smiled, and let the rhythmic motion of the train roll over him – if he had a heart, it'd be thumping in time to the clickety-clack on the tracks. He couldn't sleep, not even in the dark behind his eyelids, but he could daydream. Imagine that he could feel the sun on his face, the vibration at his back.
And while he was at it, he could reach out, just a little, and hook his pinky finger through Edwin's. Just 'cause.
A very, very small laugh escaped Edwin – almost like a runaway gasp. "I suppose," he said, mildly. "The scenic route has its charms."
 ~
Soon, the thud of Crystal's boots rejoined them, along with Crystal herself. Charles didn't even need to open his eyes, so he didn't bother.
“Charles,” Crystal greeted – and then, curtly: “Edwin.”
“Crystal.” Edwin replied, with matching coolness. But the ice soon broke on an audible, weary sigh. “Truce?” he offered.
She took a loud, long, deliberate swig of coffee before answering. Her and Edwin were peas in a dramatic, petty little pod, much as neither of them wanted to admit it. “...Truce.”
Edwin cleared his throat. “Yes. Very good.” Then, after a moment: “Thank you for your patience.”
The sounds of Crystal getting resettled stopped abruptly. Charles opened his eyes and found her half in her seat, hand and coffee cup on the table, staring at Edwin like he'd grown an extra head.
"So you're in, like… a good mood, now?” she said. “That was almost an apology. What'd I miss?”
Charles glanced sideways. Edwin had his face angled to the window – and a small, soft smile barely tugging at the corners of his mouth.
"Oh," said Edwin lightly. His finger twitched around Charles’, just a little. Almost a squeeze. "Nothing of import."
Charles fought – and failed – to suppress a grin.
Crystal looked between them. "Charles. You didn't like..." She made the same crude handjob gesture he'd done earlier. "Give him a demonstration ...?"
Edwin squawked in indignation, Charles burst into surprised, sheepish laughter; and the golden fields outside the window gave way to row upon endless row of lavender and grapevine as Provence rolled alongside them, painting the plodding hours in green and purple.
And Edwin only complained about it ten, maybe eleven more times. New record, that!
~
Hope you liked it! Consider dropping us a comment or a reblog if you did 😊
Wrote this in part to distract myself from a horrifically busy train ride, in part as wish fulfilment while daydreaming about a world where the British public transit system isn't in shambles and I can get on a cross country train that isn't cancelled and sit in my pre-reserved seat as planned. Written and posted on my phone so apologies if that's reflected in the form and formatting!
Til next time!
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railingsofsorrow · 1 year ago
Text
loving you is all I know
[klaus mikaelson x reader]
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summary: all you could smell was blood. your skin was stained with it. your clothes drenched. what you needed was the silence and him. but he didn't seem to trust you on that.
pairing: klaus mikaelson x fem!supernatural!reader
w.c: 2K
warnings/content: graphic descriptions of violence; blood; injuries; mentions of dissociation during a specific moment; self-blame; fear of abandonment and not being enough for one to stay; lots of hurt/the comfort; murder talk; there's fluff (if you trust me); mentions of biting (lovebites!).
A/N: this turned darker than I expected it to. it was supposed to be a soft blurb but it became a lot more serious and complex. so go ahead, I hope you enjoy my view of klaus mikaelson <;3
✭°。°。✭°。°。✭°。°。
“May I help?”
Klaus peaked through the bedroom door. you noticed his voice wasn't as assertive as it had been before, it never was when it was directed at you. His tone never carrying an edge or a hint at something other than care.
When the killing spree happened the wolf could be seen inside his eyes, anger radiating off of every limb of his body as he tore off arms, legs and heads. You watched quietly as a smile spread on his lips when all was done. The blood was spilled and he was satisfied.
You weren't mad. You weren't horrified. You were used to it— unfazed by now. Klaus has never been a monster in your eyes, you've seen it yourself how kind his heart could be. How deeply he cared.
After a thousand years of being alive, your way of reacting to things may change. His were just a little bit... Unconventional.
Your eyes caught your reflection through the mirror. Blood. In your shirt. In your hands. In your face. You could smell the iron and you bet that anyone — vampire or not — could also smell it from thirty miles away.
Fuck.
You shouldn't be that affected by it. You've been bloodied before. You've entered situations like that before. Why were you so frozen now?
“Love.”
A knock on the bathroom door made you flinch, wrapping your arms around yourself in a form of protection. I'm home. I'm safe.
“I'm just going to take a bath,” you let out softly, unbuttoning your stained t-shirt. You didn't remember which color it was anymore, it was just deep red now.
“May I help?” the door creaked open, his hesitation to come in was clear. And you couldn't judge, you did looked like a wounded animal that would run away at any approach. “I can prepare the water the way you like it.” He bargained.
You heard the guilt in his voice and your heart clenched. None of that had been his fault. And still, he blamed himself for how you felt. You knew he did.
“Klaus,” you said, lifting a hand to touch the door handle. “I'm fine.”
“You're not." He paused. “And that's completely understandable.”
You wanted to be mad at him. Why had he give that affirmation with such certainty? But he wasn't wrong, was he? He just knew you too well.
“If you'd like to be alone, I can leave. Just know that I'm here whenever you need me.”
You might as well have lunged towards the door, fully opening it and grabbing his wrist, stopping him from leaving. “No,” you retorted, the other hand wrapping around his arm to bring him closer. It's you. It's you that I need. “Stay.” The words left your mouth in a whisper. “Please?”
He didn't need to be told twice.
“Okay.”
His touch was gentle as he helped you take off your clothes. You knew he was afraid to hurt you, more than you already was hurt — barely any physical wounds though. Those would heal quickly.
You don't know how long you spent immersed on the bath, after taking a shower to clean yourself from the all the blood. Your lashes laid shut in your cheeks as your mind finally seemed to give you some rest. Not only that, but Klaus's fingers massaging your scalp while he washed your hair was what made you drift off.
“Love.”
He brushed some of your wet strands away from your face, leaning down to kiss your temple. “Let's dry you up.” You hummed, leaning into his touch unconsciouslly.
“I want to stay here,” You retorted, raising a hand until it reached the back of his head, you started playing with his baby hairs. “Forever. May I?”
“You may do whatever you wish, my darling,” his breath grazed the back of your ear. “I'm only here to make it come true.”
The corner of your lips lifted slightly. A while later you turned to look at him, a silent request. pressing his lips to your cheek softly, he cupped you up in his arms, gaining a loud protest about ruining his shirt. He didn't care, he had plenty of those to spare.
“Is this one good?”
“Mhm.”
One of Klaus's shirt covered your upper body as you buried yourself in the sheets, sighing in delight. Oh, I'm home.
But something's missing — You thought, running a hand on the empty side of the bed.
Before you could call out for him, he arrived at your side, hands roaming over your the small of your back, pulling your body towards his. You went willingly, breathing into his familiar scent. A mix of cashmere wood and after-shave. There you are. you wrapped your arms around his middle, head tucked into his shoulder.
But before you let your body and mind rest for the day, you needed to say something. Or rather, he needed to hear something from you.
“It wasn't your fault,” you begin, tracing random patterns in his shaved jaw. The skin was smooth and he looked so young when he did it. “I know what's happening inside your head right now. I can see the cogs turning.” You let out the last part in a low voice, tapping the side of his head playfully. He looked down at you, studying your features with an unreadable expression. You didn't like because that meant he did not agreed with your statement. However, you'd take it because it also meant he was willing to listen to what you had to say. “You didn't hurt me, Klaus. If you hadn't gotten there, I'd be worse than I was. You saved me.” You inhale deeply. “There's nothing that you could do that would drive me away. I knew who you were before I met you. I chose you and I'd choose you again and again for as long as you allow me to.”
He interrupted you by cupping your face and bringing your lips to his. The kiss was warm and inviting at the same time. But it didn't gave indication to anything else, he just wanted you to know that he believed in your claim — or at least, he was trying to.
“The blood, it— it scared me,” you said, choosing to be sincere as well. That's what he always asked of you after all. That's what you asked of each other. “You know, when I'm fighting back, my brain shuts off. It works more like a... robotic reaction if you know what I mean.”
He nodded, encouraging to carry on.
“It sort of turns off during it and when the adrenaline wears off I'm just... Knackered.” you pause. “I'm working on it. It's a process. The point is: I don't blame you for what happened.”
“Sometimes, I think you should. You are allowed to.” Klaus argued. “My last name puts a target on your back. Everywhere you go. Haven't you ever considered how easier it was to live your life before I walked into it?”
“I have considered it. Yes,” You admit. The pace of his heartbeat quickening slightly. “But that is just a fact. And in the past. A past where I'd never go back to because you weren't in it. Precisely because you weren't in it. Klaus,” you said almost pleadingly. “I would've took off the moment I heard your name if I wanted to. Your reputation precedes you, darling.” He let out a scoff and you smirked. “But you have never been what people said. Not to me. You are kind, despite your stubborness in believing in that. You are protective, god forbid a threat to your family. And most of all, you are loveable.” You could see his jaw clench as he looked away. That wouldn't stop you. “You deserve love and you deserve to be cared for. You also deserve me even if you keep telling yourself otherwise.” You had to tilt your head to meet his dark blue eyes, he was too busy acting like a toddler avoiding your gaze. Your grin widened when you succeeded.
“I love you, Klaus Mikaelson.” You said, pecking his left cheek. “My life is exactly the way I'd want it to be,” then his right one. “...I don't want easier. I want you. I hope someday you get that through your thick thousanth-year skull.”
“Are you calling me old?” He poked your hip, making you squirm and slap his chest in response. A hoarse chuckle reverberated through the room.
“I saw you blush. Tickling me isn't going to change that.”
“You saw no such thing.”
“I did.”
“Did not.”
“You sound like a child—” a sound of surprise let your mouth as he switched you over. His arms supporting his weight as he kissed down your neck passionately, lowering to your torso. Your shirt lifted slightly.
“There's something you need to know.” he said gravelly, mouth working on your skin with diligence. You shivered at the soft bite on your stomach, he marked you there twice, fingers grazing the lovebites. When he looked back at you, he didn't have that haunting look in his eyes anymore. Something softer laid there. Conviction. “I love you,” he said, laying back at your side. “And you're brave. You're strong. There's situations we can't control how we feel or what we do. You said that I saved you. But you save me every single day just by being here. By choosing me.”
You blink up at him, not expecting those words. Communication was something essential in your relationship. That's why you were having this conversation in the first place, but hearing him say that you saved him was just— you didn't expect it. You didn't imagine he felt like that.
“I'm not letting you go anywhere. don't fool yourself.” He gave you a smug smile and you shook in laughter by the abrupt change. From love confession to murderous threat. “You are too involved.” You are half of me. You have half of me. Who would I be if you left? What part of me would survive? “i'd have to kill you.” He watched fondly as your face twitched with joy.
“Oh?” You lifted your head, chin resting against the back of your hands on his chest. “Really? That'd be a dilemma.” Your eyes glinted wickedly. “Better start now, Mikaelson. But have it mind that I'm always a step ahead of you.”
He couldn't even deny that.
“Are you?” He teased, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. You grinned up at him, eyes wrinkling at the edges. Bloody hell. I'm done for. His brain screamed. “You're so bloody beautiful,” his eyes softened, a finger touching your lower lip. “I couldn't imagine my life without you in it.” Even if you decide to go one day. And it will destroy me. It will wreck every barrier I've ever build. “I love you. Always and forever.”
You laid your lips on his, kissing him slowly, gently. The world around you becoming dust while the only real palpable thing was his body and your touch.
And there it is. his mind flaring with you without his control, a dangerous combination but he was too far gone to be able to fight it.
“I love you too,” you breathed into his mouth, your grip on each side of his neck tightening as if you feared he'd slip away. Your body relaxing on his. “Always and forever.”
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redclercs · 1 year ago
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— or, the one where you go back to square one.
✤ requested as part of the lavender haze event!
✤ ex! mick schumacher x fem reader, prompts used: “say you want me, and i’m yours.” + "what pretty noises you're making for me… am i making you feel good?" + car sex in the rain
✤ warnings: smut, slight angst, mutual pining, mdni!! little plot, fingering (f receiving), grinding, little bit of dirty talk, car sex, idk how to write car sex bear with me lmao, protected sex, piv, hair pulling. while the actions portrayed in this writing are consensual, do not take this as an example and be smart about having sex!! 2k words (this was supposed to be a really short drabble)
visit the lavender library
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It’s a make it or break it situation every time you see Mick.
Not your fault really, things with him never go the way you plan them in your head and there is no use in being angry anymore, life happens and that’s that. Your attempt at being something else with Mick had met its dead end sooner rather than later, and like a pair of fools you told each other you could go back to being friends, as if nothing had happened.
But honestly, how are you supposed to look at Mick as just your friend again? When all you can picture when you close your eyes are scratches that run down his back and the hickeys on your neck.
"What are you thinking?" he asks, pulling you out of your thoughts like he always does when he notices that faraway stare. "Everything okay?"
Unable to hold back your eyeroll, you nod. "Just great."
Mick frowns and then shrugs, he doesn't want in-depth explanations of your feelings lately. It's not that he doesn't want to deal with them, but he doesn't know how to without making a burden out of his own.
He flashbacks constantly to the night the decision of being 'just friends' was made between the two of you. It was for the best, or so he thought and the momentary relief he'd felt when you agreed didn't compare to the anguish that followed him since your friend let it slip that you were moving on with someone else.
It's possible he's taking you straight to someone else right this second, as you're on your way to a party hosted by one of your mutual friends. He shouldn't have agreed to this, and he's been praying for something—just about anything—to get in the way, so you can't make it to your destination.
You turn the volume of the radio up, you hate the song, but you don't think you can go on with the only sound being the rain pattering outside the car.
Mick's prayers are answered when the rain starts falling so heavy, it's impossible to see further than a few meters, even the headlights of the rest of the cars are hidden through the curtain of water falling from the sky.
"Should I pull over?" he questions, albeit stupidly. It's the best course of action right now and he is in no rush to continue the journey. "It's safer."
You shrug again, feigning disinterest although your body has tensed. "Fine by me."
Mick stops in a lay-by, turning the car engine off once he's made sure he's left enough space for another vehicle that wants to park behind you. "We'll just let the rain pass for a while."
"I know," you huff, he doesn't have to narrate everything you do. It's irritating and you're not a child that needs explanations every two seconds.
"Why are you mad at me?" he questions, turning the volume down before undoing his seatbelt. "Did I do something wrong?"
Where do you start?
"We would have missed the rain if you'd gotten to my place on time," you murmur. It's the first excuse you can think of to be angry at him, although it's not the real reason.
"I said I was sorry, y/n. I had things to do other than being your chauffeur."
"Well I didn't know being 'my chauffeur' bothered you so much, I could have asked Esteban to take me instead."
"You know it's not that," Mick groans, hitting his forehead against the steering softly.
"Then what is it?" you roll your eyes again, turning in the seat to look at him. "Please, do tell."
Mick stares back at you, and the choice is made within seconds in his brain, he's telling the truth. He cannot keep pretending he's not absolutely tormented by the idea that you've met someone else. "I don't want you to move on. I don't want you to go to whoever is waiting for you at that party."
You're caught off guard, having expected something entirely different to come out of his mouth. A strangled 'what?' leaves your lips before Mick is kissing you, praying once again, that you don't reject his advance. Even if it's what he deserves.
It's a desperate kiss, sloppy and wet and better than any you've ever had with him. Because you can feel how much he has wanted it, and you have wanted it too, so, so much. But what if this is all he wants? To know he still holds this power over you to have you physically, but with no strings attached.
You cannot handle the heartbreak of not being able to have him in the way you want to. Not again.
You push him off you, firm but gentle as his lips start traveling down your jaw and to your neck. "No, Mick. Not again."
"Why not?" he whispers against the pulse on your neck, sending shivers through your body. "y/n..."
“Say you want me, and I'm yours," you sigh, as his lips still hover over your skin. "But mean it, Mick. Mean it this time."
"I want you, y/n. I never stopped wanting you," his right hand is holding your jaw and the other is in your hair, combing it behind your ear. "And I'm not saying this just to fuck you. I mean it. I miss you."
You've known Mick for enough time to have figured out the little tells he has when he's lying. And you are so relieved to find that he's not, as he takes you in with those blue eyes you've missed so much. "I miss you too," you whisper, before looking for his lips again.
One moment you're still in your seat, legs twisted in an uncomfortable position and the next you're on Mick's lap, after he's moved the seat all the way back leaving you enough space not to be pressed against the steering wheel.
His hands are on your hips and your ass, lifting the skirt you're wearing before letting it fall back down. Your hands wrap around his neck before falling to his chest. The kisses you exchange are still messy, rushed and quick. You bite his lower lip before licking it soothingly and he groans, hands pressing harder on your ass.
You can feel his fingers moving to your inside thigh slowly, ghost touches that are there one moment and gone the next. You move your hips back and forth, slowly, starting to feel Mick's growing bulge. He grunts again, pulling you down on him to create more friction.
Mick's hand finally finds its way back to your throbbing core, you're starting to get desperate because it's just not enough. No matter how much you sway your hips in circles or you press down on him, it's not enough. "Please," you whine against the shell of his ear, "Please touch me."
His index and middle finger press against the wet cloth that are your panties and he smiles into your lips. "You're so wet for me,"
You can't find a coherent answer, and he doesn't let you anyway, as he moves your panties to one side to access your hole. His index goes inside you painfully slowly, and you know he's enjoying torturing you this way. Your fingers pull on the back of his head, tugging at his hair and you're not surprised when he moans, the hand that's not on your pussy clasps the back of your neck.
The rain is still going strong around you, and yet the only sounds both of you can focus on are the ones leaving you both. Gasps and moans, grunts and whines.
"What pretty noises you're making for me… am i making you feel good?" Mick pulls your head back by the neck for you to stop hiding your face against his neck as he pumps his fingers in and out of you. His thumb is drawing slow circles in your clit while he interchanges the motion of pumping you to scissoring them inside of you. "Do you want to cum?"
You nod desperately, grinding against his fingers while you still pull on his hair. "Please, Mick."
"Not with my fingers,"
You miss him immediately when he pulls his hand away, your hole clenching around nothing. But you hurry to undo his belt and zipper, you need him right now. Mick shifts in his seat, looking for the jacket in the backseat.
Your fingers wrap around his dick and you start pumping him slowly, your thumb running across his tip between movements has him moaning and bucking his hips.
"Seriously?" you pause, looking at the brand new pack of condoms he gets out of the inside pocket of his jacket.
"In my defense, Esteban asked me to buy them for him," his already reddened cheeks turn a shade or two darker, and he smiles at you. "He won't miss one."
You continue with your up and down movements while Mick opens the package and once he gets the condom out, he grabs your wrist to halt you.
Mick almost cums from the sight of you putting the condom on him, something he never thought he'd ever see again after fucking everything up.
You move your underwear to the side once again and Mick grabs your hips to lift you before letting you fall slowly on his cock. Both of you throw your heads back in pleasure and you stay like that for a moment, taking in the sensation of being as physically close as you can possibly be. Mick fills you up perfectly, and you feel so, so good around him.
Your hips rock back and forth slowly, while you maintain eye contact with him, blue eyes eating you up in awe. And he helps you lift your body and fall back on him at your own pace, he's at your mercy.
The hand that isn't steadying you goes back to your clit, caressing and pressing until he finds that right movement that makes you hold your breath before you release it in a pleasured cry. "Just like that, Mick, please."
He continues to draw circles on your clit while nipping on your neck, interrupted every now and then by his own moans of pleasure. Your pace quickens and Mick's neck strains, trying to hold his orgasm back, he wants you to reach yours first.
You smile at his distress, and move your hips faster guiding him up and down in frantic movements. And it's useless how much he tries to hold back, because when you bottom out, he groans, his release spilling inside the condom.
But you don't stop riding him, and he tries his best to keep his focus on the bundle of nerves between your legs, twisting his fingers faster and harder until you grip his shoulder and let your head fall into the crook of his neck, shaking with such pleasure you're seeing stars.
You stay like that for a few moments, while your breath goes back to normal and your body stops twitching with the remnants of your high. Mick goes soft still inside you and you support your weight on his shoulders to lift yourself off him.
The windows are foggy and the car smells of what you just did, the music is still playing in low volume and the rain refuses to stop.
Mick helps you return to the passenger seat, not without stealing another kiss from you, holding your jaw between his thumb and index.
Both of you fix your clothes in silence, one that falls heavy turning uncomfortable quickly.
"We can try again," Mick ends the silence after he's completely buckled his trousers and smoothed his shirt. "I want to try again with you y/n, I want to try until it works."
So you kiss him again, because you'll try and try, until it hurts or bleeds.
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─── team principal radio: ❝to the anon who requested this, i accidentally deleted your ask because i am stupid but i hope you see this and enjoy it! let me know your thoughts y'all♡❞
✰ lavender library cardholders: @karmabyfernando
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venusjaynie · 1 year ago
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Patch Me Up
Billy Hargrove x fem!reader
summary: Billy, your (secret) boyfriend, shows up at your house (which is really Steve's house) after a bad fight with Neil, and Steve has never been more confused.
CW: hurt/comfort, minor injury detail, mentions of abuse (it's very brief!!), lots of fluff, billy is probably OOC but I do not care 🫶🫶, Steve wants to put his and Billy's differences aside for your sake.
Word count: 2k
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2:45am
Someone's at the door. They knock once, and you don't make a move to answer. But then the bell rings, and they knock again so, with a groan, you get out of bed and walk past Steve's room to see if he's still asleep, or if he was also woken up by the disturbance from downstairs. Luckily, he's asleep.
You make your way down the stairs of the house and, for safety, you grab Steve's nail bat from its place beside the front door. Slowly, you unlock the door and open it just enough so that you can see whoever is on the other side of it.
It's Billy.
You open the door fully and drop the bat as quietly as you can. Billy looks like he's been dragged to hell and back, to put it simply. For a second, you're confused as to why he's here at 2:45 on a Wednesday morning, but his eyes shine with unshed tears, and the big red mark on his cheek speaks for itself.
"Hey, pretty girl, mind letting me in? I'm dying out here." You nod and step out of the way with nothing but worry for him casting over your features. You notice that he's limping a little, but you don't mention it.
"God, Billy, what the hell happened to you?" You know it was Neil, but Billy had insisted that things with his dad were getting better. He laughs half-heartedly, not meeting your eye.
"I, uh, let Max go over to the Byers to stay over with her friend Ellie or El, or something, 'cause Neil and Susan were supposed to go away for a few nights. But they ended up coming home early, and when he found out he told me to go pick her up. But I told him I didn't want to disturb Mrs byers, and he didn't take to that too kindly." He huffs out another humourless chuckle, but you can hear him choking up as he speaks.
"Oh, babe..." You start, but you're at a loss for words. You've seen Billy a few times after a bad run-in with his dad, but there's blood coming from his nose and he's cradling his right elbow in his hand, and not to mention his left eye is swelling slightly. "C'mere, let me clean you up a bit."
As you go to take Billy's hand to lead him to the downstairs bathroom you can hear Steve's floorboards creak just above you, and his footsteps echo through the hall upstairs.
"Hello?" Steve calls out from the top of the stairs.
"Hey, Stevie, it's just me." You reply.
"Who were you talking to?" You can hear him making his way down the stairs. "Hargrove? Is that you?"
"Don't get too excited, Harrington." Steve rolls his eyes at Billy's sarcasm.
"Why are you in my house, man? What-" He stops himself as he reaches the bottom of the stairs and can see Billy's face in the light, letting out a soft 'oh'.
Neither of them speak for a moment or two, and you take that as your cue to get back to the previous task as hand.
"Billy, let's get you fixed up." He nods silently and follows you to the bathroom. You tell him to sit down on the lid of the toilet, and you open the cupboard under the sink to grab the first aid kit. You rummage around a bit, until you remember that Steve took it last week after Will had fallen off his bike and gashed a pretty nasty cut into his knee.
“I need to run to the living room to grab the first aid kit, okay?” You ask gently, already heading toward the door, but Billy grabs your hand before you can go any further.
“No, please don’t leave.”
“Baby, it’s only for a second. I’ll be right back.” He shakes his head.
“Can’t you just yell for Harrington to get it? I just don’t think I can be alone right now.” He speaks so quietly, more so than you’ve ever heard him do before, and there's something about the rawness and honesty in his eyes that makes you never want to leave him alone again.
“Steve?” You shout, feeling bad about disturbing your friend again.
“Yeah? What’s up?” He quickly walks back down the stairs and comes into view as he stands in the doorframe of the bathroom.
“Could you grab the first aid kit from the living room, please?” He nods without a word, and emerges a few minutes later with the little, green plastic box.
“Thank you. Sorry for waking you up, you can go back to bed now. promise we won’t disturb you again.” Steve just laughs lightly and shakes his head.
“Nah, I’m up now. No chance of me getting back to sleep for at least 2 hours. Might as well do something useful with my time.” He heads in the direction of the kitchen, and you close the door of the bathroom behind him.
Walking back over to billy, who is sat silently on the counter of the bathroom, you’re able to truly take in how beaten up he looks. His left eye is swelling more and more, and the red mark on his cheek has almost turned purple.
“Oh, Billy.” You slowly reach out to touch his face, but he flinches back slightly at the notion of your hand coming into contact with his cheek.
"Shit- sorry." He apologises quickly and takes your outstretched hand in his.
"You don't have to be sorry, it's not your fault." You give his hand a reassuring squeeze and get to patching him up. You clean up his bloody nose, which he scrunches up when the alcohol rub you use on his cheek stings a bit, and you apologise quietly. You find a bandage and you fashion a make-shift sling. It's definitely nothing special, but it's better than letting his arm hang free without support.
You catch sight of the shift in his features when he goes to adjust his position on the counter. His hand shoots up to hold onto his chest, and you immediately worry for the state of his bones and internal organs.
"Billy?" He looks up at you. "Can you take your shirt off?" He smirks.
"You tryna get me naked? Could've just said so, baby." He laughs under his breath, and despite the situation, you crack a small smile. He removes his shirt, and you can't help the short intake of breathe of breath that you take. The skin on Billy's chest is red and blue and black and purple and the more you examine it the worse it looks. It's horrible.
"Oh my god." You breathe. You look through the first aid kit for some kind of oil or ointment that you could use to treat the discolouring on his chest, but it was to no avail. "I don't think I have anything that can help that. I'm sorry, Billy. I'm so sorry." You aren't really apologising for your lack of treatment products. You're apologising because this is real. He has to live life like this, and there's nothing you can do about it.
"Hey, hey, it's okay. It's not your fault. You didn't know I was coming, yeah?" You nod. "And besides, you've done more than enough, sweetheart. More than you ever needed to, alright? I'm okay, I swear." You know he's lying. He's not okay. But for once, you choose to not argue back. You honestly don't have the strength.
The rest of his casualties aren't your forte, unfortunately. Bruises and a potentially sprained ankle- which he promises 'isn't even that bad'- aren't things that you can tend to, but you think some ice to his ankle will do him some good, and maybe provide some pain relief.
"Hey, Billy, let's go to the living room, 'kay?" He nods, and stands up, and you put your arm around his waist to support him. He kisses your temple and starts to limp out of the bathroom to make his way to the living room.
Steve is sitting on the sofa when you enter with Billy, and he makes a move to leave.
"I'll give you guys some privacy." He nods at Billy as he leaves, and you truthfully don't want him to go. He's your best friend, and you could use some grounding after what you've done tonight. You don't say anything in protest to his statement though, however, Billy does.
"Harrington? If you wanna stay down here, I don't mind, really." Billy looks almost as shocked as you do, as if he doesn't register what he's saying until the words have already flown out of his mouth and he can't take them back.
"Oh, uh, okay. You sure, man?" Steve makes a move to re-enter the living room.
"Don't make me change my mind, dude." Steve laughs lightly as Billy's answer, and walks back into the living room, closely followed by you and Billy.
You sit down on the couch, Billy following you, and Steve takes his previous seat. You have to admit, it's a little awkward at first. You're the one making conversation and trying to tie them both in, but it's difficult, what with knowing about their past rivalry and all.
You sigh, before saying,
"Alright look, I know you two have your differences, but I'm just as uncomfortable as you both. So, if we're gonna sit here tonight, is there any chance you could just make up? For my sake at least?"
It's a while before either of them speak, and to no one's surprise, it's Steve.
"Yes, yeah okay. I think I can do that."
"Thank you." You smile at him, and wait hopefully for Billy to agree too.
"Fine." He mumbles after a few minutes. You know you won't get much more out of him than that, so you're just glad he cooperated.
"Thanks, Billy." He nods, not saying anything more. "I'm gonna get you some ice for your ankle." Another nod, this time accompanied by a smile.
You leave the room, cringing internally at the thought of leaving Billy alone with Steve. You just hope they can put their differences aside, because it would make your situation a hell of a lot less difficult.
After retrieving the ice from the bottom drawer of the freezer, which took a great deal of effort because you had to clear out the contents of the drawer and then fit it all back in, you head back to living room, silently praying the 2 boys haven't killed each other in your absence. However, as you walk to the door, you hear them before you see them. Billy's laughing, and so is Steve. 'What the hell?' you think to yourself, bemused to say the least.
"Jesus, Harrington, that's fucking hilarious. You know, you're better company than I thought."
"What's gotten into you two, huh?" You chuckle as you saunter in and retake your seat, leaning forward to set the ice on the coffee table, and then prop Billy's ankle on the bag.
"Nothin', sweetheart. This guy's not too bad to have around. He's funnier than I remember." As you lean back against the sofa, Billy stretches his good arm around your shoulders, and you settle against him.
"It's good that the two of you are getting along, for my sake, anyway." Billy doesn't say much, but hums in acknowledgement, while Steve just nods.
It's quiet for a little while longer, until Steve clears his throat somewhat awkwardly.
"Uh, Hargrove- Billy, even- fuck, that feels weird. Yeah, anyway, um, if you ever need a place to stay whenever, you know, this happens, you can always come here." Steve doesn't look at Billy when he talks, but if he did he'd see the way Billy's eyes soften ever so slightly, the way his shoulders relax into the plush couch behind him, the way his eyes go a little glossy.
"Thanks, Steve." Billy replies, before continuing with, "Yeah, that feels weird as shit, man." earning a laugh from both you and Steve.
After a moment, Billy yawns, and his eyes look droopier than they did a minute ago, so you decide now would be a good time for the two of you to head to bed.
"Alright, Stevie, we're gonna head to bed." You stand up, helping Billy do the same.
"Me too." Steve follows in suit, standing and stretching his arms over his head. The three of you head toward the stairs, with Steve behind you and Billy to make sure he can help if the latter falls.
As you're climbing the stairs, however, Steve has something on his mind.
"Hey, kid, any chance you're making pancakes tomorrow morning?" You turn around to face Steve and you don't think you've ever seen him look more hopeful in your life. "Billy, I swear to God, she makes the best pancakes in the world."
Billy smiles and says, "Well, sweetheart, I gotta try 'em. I'm somewhat of a pancake connoisseur, if you will." You roll your eyes.
"Ugh, fine. Yes, Steve, I will make my famous pancakes." You say, and you swear Steve looks like he could jump for joy. "But, you have to make spaghetti tomorrow night."
"Done."
When you reach the top of you stairs, you bid Steve goodnight, and make your way back to your room, but this time with Billy in tow, and you tell him to sit on the bed. Grabbing him one of his shirts that you stole a month ago, you help him out of his other one, careful not to disturb the fine bandaging you had previously carried out on his arm, and you gently pull the new one over his head, guiding his arms through it too. He opts for no pants, just boxers, and you're too tired to object, not that you mind either way, and the two of you lie back in your bed.
"Thanks for takin' care of me." Billy mumbled into your hair.
"Thanks for letting me." You reply, making Billy smile. And for the first time in a long while, Billy sleeps.
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dilemmaontwolegs · 1 year ago
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Transcending Time || CL16 {2}
Charles Leclerc x princess!reader Summary: Destined to be together, you and Charles’ love transcends time to find one another again and finally get the future you never had - the one with a happy ending. Warnings: 18+ only, angst, fluff, flashbacks WC: 2k F1 Masterlist || One || Two || Three
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Monaco, 1662 A thousand candles burned in the citadel but their radiance was second only to the smile on Charles’ face as the priest announced your vows were complete. No one but the drunkards and whores would be about at this late hour and not one of them would dare step foot into the church. It ensured the marriage would remain a secret.
“Now our souls are bound to each other in this life and the next,” Charles promised as he sealed it with a kiss. “Not even the devil himself could keep us apart.”
“It’s not the devil I fear.”
The priest had reluctantly done his duty, mostly thanks to the more than fair donation you had squirrelled away in the form of gems and jewels, and he was quick to take his leave after signing the cross over your joined hands. The only sound of his departure was the jingle of the leather purse with each step he took back to the rectory.
When the heavy wooden door creaked closed, Charles cupped your face and gave you a kiss that should have melted the stone carving of the Virgin Mary behind him. “Your brother wouldn’t harm you. No matter what, he cares for you.”
“I couldn’t care less about my safety,” you said as you rested your head on your husband’s chest. “If anything were to happen to you…you are my life, my reason to breathe.”
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Monaco, 2023 “Wow, you look just like her,” Charles murmured as he stared up at the old portrait, the colour faded with time.
“That’s my namesake, which doesn’t bode well considering she threw herself off the old prison wall,” you chuckled nervously. 
“Why?”
You shrugged and shuffled along to the next portrait of Louis the First. “I don't know, no one talks about her but it must have been bad. Why else would she have been in that place unless she went insane?”
Your brows pinched as the words felt like ash on your tongue. Insane. It was what one tutor had called you after an episode. You couldn't remember what had happened but something during the history lesson had triggered you to lose yourself for a time. It had taken days to regain clarity and shake the cold that seeped into your bones each time it happened.
“Maybe it’s hereditary,” you muttered as your eyes drifted back to the mariner shimmering beyond windows. Longing to feel the cool water on your skin overcame you and the urge was not one you could ever deny. “I need to escape.”
You instructed Charles to the old servant's steps that were easily missed if one didn’t know where to look. His arm tightened around your waist with the first step down the well-worn stonework and you trailed your fingers along the wall like you were greeting an old friend. 
“Are we supposed to be here?” Charles whispered despite being alone.
“I would think not, but I have never asked to be sure. Can you keep it a secret? This is the only freedom I have.”
He stumbled to a stop on the step below and kept you balanced off your leg as he turned to face you. Even with the dim lighting you could see the surprise on his face and it made him look younger. “You’re trusting me?” he finally asked, his lips so close to yours that it was impossible not to wonder what they would feel like on yours. 
“Would that be a mistake?” A strange feeling washed over you as his thumb caressed the birthmark on your ribs and you swore it burned with familiarity. 
“No,” he was quick to answer. “You can trust me, princess.”
You had no evidence to believe him but you did, so you nodded your head to the door at the end of the hall. “It’s just through there.”
He helped you down the last steps that had passed beneath the streets above and watched you find an old iron key stuffed into a crack. “What is this place?”
You turned the key and tugged at the heavy door as watery light flooded into the hall. “Home.”
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Monaco, 1661 “I met your mother today.” You sighed sadly and rested your head on Charles’ shoulder as he curled an arm around your waist. “I’ve never met anyone so warm.”
Charles kissed the top of your head where your tiara had sat before he removed it, leaving it with his coat and shoes away from the waters edge. He could hear the longing in your voice and knew just how cold your own mother was towards you. “She always wanted a daughter,” he said as he ran his thumb up and down your side to soothe you. “She would love you.”
Pascale was one of the reasons Charles couldn’t just run away with you, as much as he wanted to free you of the golden chains that imprisoned you. Pascale, Lorenzo and Arthur. Life was not so simple when love was involved. She had been devastated when Hervé had died of the sweating fever over winter and Charles hadn’t been the same since. An air of sadness descended on his shoulders and he worked longer hours to provide for his family.
His pride refused to accept the money you offered to ease his burden so you tried to help in other ways, promoting his business to whatever duke or marquess you happened to be forced to dine with. 
“Prince Wilhem is arriving on the morrow,” you whispered as the words threaten to silence you. “I cannot marry him, Charles. If I’m going to die I would rather it be by my hand than that brutes.”
“Please,” he choked on the plea as his eyes reflected the water in the rock pool. “I cannot bear to hear such talk.”
“Then help me,” you begged as you climbed onto his lap, your fingers reaching for the hem of his shirt hanging loose over his trousers. “Save me, Charles. You are the only man I can trust.”
He caught your hands before they could reach for the leather strap that laced his trousers tight over his narrow hips. “I can’t,” he admitted after swallowing deeply and looked away. 
Pain lacerated your heart, the ache immediate and immense enough that you looked down to see your corset where a knife should have been. “Why?” you asked before you lost all courage. “Mother told me I wasn’t pretty enough for a love match, is she right?”
Charles hands dropped yours so he could cradle your face and guide your eyes back up to meet him. “Your mother is a bitch, and you are the most beautiful woman I have ever laid eyes upon.”
“Then why? Help me to understand.”
“There are too many reasons why,” he said as he brushed a hand through his hair, tugging at the ends as he did when he was frustrated. It was the first time you had been the cause and not just the witness. “For one, I have been told the first time it hurts and I don’t wish to be the cause of your pain. Two, you are a princess, the princess. And three, you deserve more than losing your maidenhead to a lowly clerk.”
“You are stupid. And your reasons are stupid too,” you growled as you clambered to your feet. “Whatever pain I might have felt with a gentle soul who held my heart would be but a modicum of what Wilhem will do should we be wed.”
You stared down your nose at him, missing the flinch as anger blinded you. “Should I survive his sadistic tendencies long enough to birth his heir then I will only hope I find a better fate than his last two wives and the stillborns that took them to the grave. But thank you for saving me from a momentary pain, Saint Charles.”
You only took two steps before he caught you, his strong fingers wrapping around your wrist and tugging you back into his embrace. His arm snaked across your back and pinned you chest to chest as his head dipped down to capture your lips before you could say another word. 
You had felt his kiss on your cheek, on your forehead, on your hand, but never on your lips. His kiss erased all thoughts that weren’t of him, it evaporated the anger and the fear and the pain. His kiss gave you hope in return. 
Your hopes were dashed like the waves upon the rocks as he broke the kiss first and pressed his forehead to yours, shaking his head slowly to regain his composure. “I love you, princess, and I cannot make love to you once, knowing it will never happen again.”
Your fingers gathered his shirt in your fists to keep him from taking another step away. “Once? Charles, I want you for a lifetime, hell, eternity wouldn’t be long enough to stop loving you.” You took his hand and placed it over your heart. “This already belongs to you, make my body yours too, ruin me for all others.”
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Monaco, 2023 “How has this stayed a secret?” Charles gasped as he stepped out of the doorway and saw the azure waves lapping at the rocks in the sheltered cove. 
“Like so much of our history, this too was forgotten,” you said as he helped ease you down to sit on the ledge where you could dip your swollen ankle into the cool water. “I don’t know how long it was abandoned before I came here, possibly centuries.”
Charles sat down beside you, unconcerned about getting his suit dirty from the sand and salt, and pulled off his dress shoes so he could dip his feet in the water too. “So how did you find it?”
You twirled an heirloom ring around your finger and watched how the sunlight caught the crests of the waves and turned the blue to gold like midas’ touch. “Would you believe me if I said I dreamed about it? No one ever does.”
If it is not in the library records, it does not exist. Foolish girl, just like your namesake. You are lucky you are pretty, since you are clearly not intelligent.
You blinked away the memory of the old librarian laughing in your face and found Charles staring at you. “You dreamt of this place?”
“You can laugh, I’m used to it,” you said with a sigh. “It doesn’t change the fact it is true.”
“I believe you.”
You snorted an unladylike laugh and rolled your eyes. “You don’t have to be polite on my account.”
“No, really! I do. I have been having this recurring dream where I trip over a crown of all things and it stabs me in the back.”
Tears started to blur your vision and you rose to your feet, pushing through the pain that flared in your sprained ankle. “I said you could laugh, not ridicule me.”
“No wait,” Charles rushed to follow, his fingers curling around your wrist to keep you from escaping and you both jumped at the static charge that jolted through you. “I wasn’t making fun of you I swear. Look.” He released your hand as he turned and tugged his shirt out of his trousers, lifting the material up to show the sun kissed skin of his lower back, a pale jagged line marring the left side. “No one believes me, they say it’s a birthmark.”
The scar held you in a trance and you reached out to trace its shape, your cold fingertips making Charles shiver beneath your touch. “Tiara, not a crown,” you whispered, letting your hands fall to your side as you recognised the seven sharp points spaced perfectly across his skin. “I believe you.”
Click here for part three.
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