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bitchlessdino · 4 months

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nobody's home (m)

Pairing: neighbor male nanny!seungcheol x afab maid!reader Genre: smut, fluff towards the end Word count: 3.8k tags: working class au, mentions kids, big dick!Seungcheol, reader wears skirt and thong and panty hose, dom!seungcheol, brat!reader, rough sex, rough hair pulling and head movement, spitting and swallowing, heavy degradation kink, window sex, overstimulation, name calling (brat, slut, mr. choi), choking unprotected sex, breeding kink, cream pies Summary: Seungcheol and you have never crossed paths for long, but boy have you imagined it. Too preoccupied with your jobs working for some of the richest families in the city, you've sacrificed your grueling hours when you could've been fucked your brains out all this time. However, big risks come with big rewards when the holidays arrive. Then there's nobody home to stop you. author note: horny, horny, horny, that was the entire process writing all of this. i feel like i pulled this out one of my deepest most darkest horny moments bc why am i so into writing every part of this and thats so rare?? i enjoyed this alot, please enjoy guys and happy new year! its almost 2024 thats insane!!!!

Tag: @shiningstar-byulxx @misssugarlips @tommolex @hoeforhao @goblinvern @dkakapizzaboy @junhui-recs @svtup @buffhoshi @meowmeowminnie @caratochan @lovebot4han @6969lilithcat @camisun93 @emmmui @toruro @jeonride @novalpha @nvmrljk @feat-sun @tinkerbell460 @aaniag @tacosandbitch @cottoncheol @embrace-themagic

You haven’t worked for this family all that long. Only long enough to realize the cute male nanny living in the house next door.

You've caught glimpses of him a handful of times on the lawn, overseeing the kids as they bask in the fresh air. His eyes sparkle like stars that lit the night sky and his smile outshines the opulence of this entire block of one-percenters. Witnessing that radiant smile aimed in your direction brightens your day each time. Without fail, you exchange polite greetings, accompanied by smiles and pleasant small talk, forming a delightful routine in your interactions.

As the housekeeper, you’ve had plenty of encounters while getting groceries, lawn or backyard parties, and windows. Lots of windows. You’d peer through when you’re cleaning, see him glance back at you, maybe sending you a wave as he’s mid-feeding the kid veggie tots. Your interactions with him were typically very brief and fleeting.

Now, there were no excuses. The holiday season is around the corner, and families in the neighborhood will soon be heading to the Alps, tropical destinations, or somewhere along those lines. That meant you’d be all alone in their mansion, much like someone else in the neighborhood.

You learn about it by seeing him at the grocery store. Trying not to get distracted by the loose-fitting dress shirt tucked in the waist of his trousers, you notice the little one he cares for rolls through the aisles full of toddler swagger in the shopping cart. You would gush at their delightful giggles if you didn’t find their caretaker so mind-numbingly distracting.

With his broad shoulders, sturdy arms, and consistently solid build, you too would trust him with something so delicate and needy of attention. It was such a natural choice. However, the nearest option you had was, well, yourself.

He mentions that his employers preferred to keep their vacation exclusive to family, providing him with paid time off to use as he pleased. In turn, you mention being offered the same form of compensation, and am eternally grateful for such leniency. His expression sparks in piqued interest, briefly glancing at you before storing the hot chocolate package away in the cart.

“Does that mean you’ll be away for the holidays?”

You muse at his question, fingers taking over your basket handle as he ponders on your response. A glimmer of optimism in his eyes beams in your direction, with a dimple etched deep in his cheek as he splays a hopeful smile. To which you answer jesterly, "Well, I hadn't implied that."

He softly chuckles, nudging you at the elbow, obviously trying to banger a proper answer. “Then tell me, what’s a pretty thing like you doing in a big house all alone during the holidays?”

His compliments delight you and warmth festers in your chest, greedy for more. "I suppose we'll find out, won't we?"

Seungcheol doesn’t have a moment to react as the child in the cart regains their energy. He shifts his gaze away momentarily and soon you escape his line of vision, seamlessly blending in amidst the bustling crowd of grocers.

Returning to the residence, you linger by the largest window, offering a perfect view of Seungcheol dining during supper. It's a familiar scene, replaying like clockwork at the same hours each time. His silhouette in the warm glow of the neighbor's dining room becomes a sight with more to be desired, and you imagine a world where the divide doesn't exist. Staring in his eyes, you picture your entanglement. The heat of your bodies weaving together like threads in a tapestry, each bonded tightly, with only the power of shears to tear you apart.

His eyes reflect the same intensity, mentally undressing you down to the skin, making you his perfect canvas. He ponders the texture of your skin, your hair, and the sound you make when he tenderizes your flesh with his teeth. He wonders how full you feel between his fingers, or how sweet your nectar tastes. He can only envision the favor, the sensation, the warmth; holding the fantasy close to him like a secret taken to the grave.

That day would come soon enough.

Anticipating each passing hour of every day, you are elated by the promise of bidding farewell to your employers at the airport. You assure them of returning to a pristine home, meticulously cleaned from every nook and cranny. A grin, so expansive it borders on pain, graces your face, and there's a noticeable spring in your step as they fade into the depths behind the security checkpoints.

Without a moment's hesitation, you rush home, eager to connect with a kindred spirit just a few cobblestones away from your work residence. Judging by the expression in his eyes, it's clear he has fulfilled his responsibilities and bid farewell to his employers as well, eagerly awaiting your arrival. He grins at you, pleased to see you approach him.

“I see it that they made it to their flight safe?”

You hum in confirmation. “You would be seeing correctly. How did your family make it?”

"Quite smoothly," he answers nonchalantly, the dimple on his cheek sinking into a subtle but contented expression.

A palpable wave of relief releases from the depths of your lungs, and a chuckle escapes as you observe Seungcheol displaying a similar reaction. Even in the subzero temperatures, you sensed the fire of his gaze, unraveling your logical resolve and liquefying you into a puddle of your own arousal. In the depth of your gaze, he discerns your hopeful anticipation, one that matches his. “So, what are the plans for the rest of their absence?”

The corner of your lips can’t help the way lifts, smiling slyly back at him. “I’m sure you have some ideas.”

You thank the heavens every day they never reinstalled those security cameras. Utilize their vulnerability, you invite the neighbor’s nanny into their home, and the automatic door locks behind him. No use in holding back, he claims the lips swiftly, tasting need and rebellion on your tongue in a rough liplock.

His lips full and plush, they part to speak, but not with words. His tongue aligns with yours, only to tangle in incoherent mumbles that escape in between, yet communicate with you in perfect fluency. Much like the intimate gazes you share from the windows multiple times a day, the fervent kiss unfolding spoke more than the audible language ever could.

His hands work around your body, shoving off your coat and cardigan, abandoning them on the hardwood to slip his fingers beneath your shirt. A shallow breath leaves your lips and you rush him against you, planting yourselves against their pristinely white wall. The texture of the plaster digs into your backside, abrasive against your flesh and Seungcheol locks you in place by holding your thigh against his side.

“You don’t know how fucking bad I wanted to do this to you,” he growls into your kiss.

You let out a sultry chuckle, fiddling with his earlobe between the pads of your fingers. “You can say it out loud. Nobody’s home.”

He scoffs. “I said, I wanted to—“ he slams his hips against you, his cock bursting at the seams against your torso, “—fuck the living shit—“ he does so again, digging your sobbing clothed cunt with his solid thigh, “—out of this stupid, pretty cunt. That loud enough for you?”

You moan through your firm pressed lips, grinding against his steel hard thighs. “Just the perfect amount.”

In admiration, your hands roam over his body, and shamelessly rips off his dress shirt, hearing the buttons skip against the cool tile. He grunts at the sensation of the frigid air enveloping his broad stature as it pebbles goosebumps on his upper arms. Returning your savage gesture, his hand fingers through your hair and dragging it back to pin your head on the wall behind you, fisting handfuls of your locks. “That wasn’t very nice of you. Could’ve asked for permission at least first,” he snarls, baring his front teeth.

“Can’t help it,” you grin, “you just look so good without it on. I bet you look without anything on.”

His chest presses flat against your body without even space to breathe and his unyielding gaze bore into you. He aligns his conceited grin against your lips to smash it brusquely—as if thanking you—pulling at your bottom lip between his perfect teeth. “I’m sure it’s all you think about when you see me.”

Quickly, he maneuvers you; twisting your heel and guiding with a hand on your waist, he forces you against the unyielding surface of the wall and trails that same hand over your chilled spine.

You softly gasp at his touch, feeling the flood of your clenched walls seep through your underwear and layering your inner thighs. His chilling, velvet voice beckons, coating the inside of your ears. “But I’ve dealt with brats, you know that. Let me show exactly what happens when you test the limits of my discipline.”

Seungcheol lifts the flap of your skirt, barring the shape of your cheeks protected under a layer of pantyhose and caressing its plush cushion. Then came the flat palm of his hand coming against you at full force. You jolt upon contact, clinging to the foundation of this house to recover, yet mewl at the arousal erupting inside you. A sound emerges from the depths of your throat, vaguely sounding of his name as well as plead.

“You like that, don’t you? A naughty little brat you are,” he chuckles sinisterly.

You push your back against his hips, finding the mold of his cock readily and fitting between the rounds of your ass. His soft groan follows, his erection rubbing against the pantyhose. “God, you really like that.”

“I want it,” you whine impatiently, backing your hips on him, and crushing his length, “give it to me.”

“What kind of authority figure would I be if I gave into one of my brat’s demands?” He strikes your cheek again, stinging lingering dully as your flesh had barely recovered from the last hit, and drool leaking out of the corner of your lips. “Not a very good one,” he answers.

“Please, Seungcheol...”

He does do again, if not harder, and each strike collides with both cheeks. “You’ll be referring to me as Mr. Choi now, brat.”

You never knew his surname, but upon discovery, you notice how smooth it rolls off the tongue. How delicious it sounds out of your swollen lips.

“Mr. Choi…” You breathe out, your cunt vibrating at the notion of his power.

He hums pleased, rewarding the back of your neck with a gentle peck. “Good job. What is it you want?”

“Please, Me Choi, I want your cock inside me…”

He clicks his tongue. “Do you, now?” He chides, “Are you going to behave from now on?”

You nod gingerly. “Yes, just give it to me, please…all of it…”

“Mmh, since you’re being so polite. I guess positive reinforcement is in order.” Seungcheol’s hand caresses your hips, reaching for the curves of your ass in confident determination. The soft caress of his rich voice proceeds, “Let’s just get these out of the way.”

He ruthlessly tears the sheer material of your pantyhose, exposing your skin and the red lacy thong that hardly holds you up. You erupt in a startled gasp, welcoming the cool embrace of the air ventilation on your blistered skin. His voice drops to a lower octave and his groaning dissolves, melding into a soft sigh. “What a pretty little holiday gift for me. Only took me a moment to realize I have to unwrap it.”

“I thought of you when I decided the color,” you admit in feigned innocence, “you seem to like the holiday colors.”

“I do. Darling of you for noticing,” he praises with a hint of tease, “and my, does it suit you. Maybe there is hope for a brat like you.”

You hear the draw of his zipper, following the heavy drop of fabric to the ground. Slightly turning your head, you see he kicks the clothes aside and grins upon inspection of his full-length lining up between your legs. Your knees began to wobble, parting your feet for a more stable stance, and you swoon with your head against the wall. “You look so big…”

The head of his cock rubs against the lace, precum leaking from the tip and creating a small mess on your already ruined panties. You hear a smile in his scoff and feel the snap of your underwear before his tip breaches your molten warmth. He whispers, “Wait until you feel how big it is pushing in and out of that pretty wet cunt of yours…”

“Mmh, Mr. Choi…” Your breath halts as his girth parts your entrance, stretching your walls until it is Seungcheol and your lubricating arousal. He seethes in relief, letting your welcoming embrace around him soothe his intensifying erection and he bucks his hips, having you adjust to his size.

You rest your forehead on the wall, feeling him bury himself inside you. “Shit…yes, Mr Choi…”

“Such bratty pussy.” He spanks both cheeks once more, watching the recoil of your flesh. “My perfect bratty little pussy…bet you’re so used to misbehaving. It won’t be like that around me.”

He took one deep, languid thrust, automatically groaning, “Fuck,” then released his hips.

You immerse in his plunder of your voice, letting it ache in need as you repeat his name. Meanwhile, your internal temperature rises with the collision of his lap and your ass growing harsh and unforgiving. Pinning your wrist together single-handedly, he lets his other grip reclaim your hair, dragging your body to him for his own use. “You feel so fucking good around me.”

He tenses his torso to take sharper strikes, pulsing deeper and quicker. Your hand slides on the solid surface in front of you, pushing yourself against him as you take every inch. Your jaw drops low, echoing a hollow whine, devoid of incoherent thoughts and instinctive response.

Seungcheol lets go of your wrists and instead sandwiches them between your back and his chest. He finds the front panels of your shirt and tears it apart similarly you did with his, echoing that familiar sound of buttons being abandoned on the ground.

“Because you deserve the same thing to happen to you,” he softly mutters, only to cup your cladded breast hungrily, squeezing your flesh to the point it spills out of the material as his teeth kiss your neck, “and because I couldn’t stop looking at these when you’re walking around that see-through blouse by that window we share.”

Thinking about the fact that you share something made his intention all the more intimate, and you cling to his body like saran wrap due to the simple fact. You melt as he marks your body with bites, the stinging resonating on your goosebumped skin. “I wear that because of you,” you manage to squeak, “only because you wear that t-shirt that clings to your body during the summer. How it got damp from sweat fixing that broken bookcase. God, is it satisfying to rip your shirt off.”

“That window was always the culprit, hmm?”

He pries you from where you stand and drags you to the referred structure with you giggling after him. There he bends you over the dining table placed strategically in front of it, while your ass points towards the glass screen. His spanks come flying, tenderizing the already raw and blistered skin, “This damn window you always linger by.”

His nails dig into your kneaded flesh and he fits his cock right where it belongs, plunging back inside you as he secures your head against the table. “The way I wanted to fuck you on this exact table, spank this cute fucking ass,” he roughly tugs your head up, watching your tits bounce as he ruts in you like a damn dog, and meets your warm wide-eyed gaze, “Spit in that slutty, brat mouth.”

Your lips part without delay, death gripping the edge of the mahogany, and your tongue slings out enthusiastically. He breaks out in an amused grin before it melts back into a smolder, gripping you closer until he hocks a hot load of salvia in your mouth, forcibly closing your jaw with his hands.

“Hold it,” he commands, seeing the subtle frown on your face as you obey. He smiles sinisterly, hands on your hips as he slams you towards him, watching your head bob at the harsh rhythm. He places his palm over the column of your throat, teeth clawing your cheek. “Now swallow, you slut.”

He feels the shift in your throat as it goes down, relishing that light gasp of breath leaving your lips, “Good slut. You’re finally learning.”

His power, his strength, his cadence were inexplicably captivating and you succumb to his every whim. It only intensifies as you drink in his delectable lips, so soft in contrast to the abrasive snap of his hips, hitting in a spot so sensitive you don’t even predict it coming.

Your moan resonates through the entire first floor, palming the dinner table as you ride out your high in teary anguish as Seungcheol’s pace doesn’t seem to falter, in fact, it seems to have grown angrier. Furious.

“You fucking slut,” he spits, rubbing your overstimulated clit in the thick of your climax, squeezing the tears out of your eyes. You clutch his forearm in desperation, writhing uncontrollably. “S-Seungcheol—“

“Misbehaving again, I see.” He pulls out of you to flip you on your back. He watches at your hot cheeks expel heavy pants, sweat filming your entire torso, and eyes rolling to the back of your head. “You’re still conscious; you haven’t had enough just yet.”

Dragging by the arm, he takes you against the tempered glass, chilling your bare spine. He lifts your legs off the ground and holds them on either his side, stuffing himself back into you. Your heat drips around his cock, and he catches it in his thrusts, pressuring you to feel every inch of his cock rammed inside.

Your ass and the pads of your fingers press against the glass, smudging its once-pristine sheen. “Mr.Choi…”

He strokes your cheek, fondness in his eyes before it lowers to your throat and closes around it. Then his eyes penetrate through you, eying you in a dark allure as he robs you of breath, and catching the daze in your eyes as he ponders in thought.

“What are you thinking dirtying up the thing you took so long cleaning with your fingerprints and cum, hmm? Marking your claim on the house you've spent all day and night on looking perfect? A house far from being yours? How does it make you feel?”

“…Exhilarating,” you sigh shallowly, staring back at him with a smile. Your arms loop around his neck, finding security and embracing his vigorous nature. “Like it’s all worth the painstaking labor to make a complete mess of it.”

He groans at your answer, reconnecting your lips in what feels like an eternity, and cradles the side of your face endearingly with one hand still around your neck. His lips devour yours, swallowing your moans, jerking his hips, and savoring the velvet of your walls clench around him so deliciously.

“You were just as worth the wait. Made my job so damn hard thinking your pussy wrapped around my cock, made me fucking blank out most of my day. Not a good move for me, but–really–I blame you,” he slams you against the window before quickly returning to his rhythm pace.

“You and your perfect body—” He grinds up into you, relocating your sensitivity and you whimper, “—Your sexy fucking voice when you greet me,” and he finally, makes notice of your face, using that hand that crushed around throat now gripping your chin, “—or this beautiful face that I couldn’t wait to see contort when I push my fucking cum inside.”

Usually, you know better than to let that kind of thing happen, but after the long duration of having only distant contact, his offer becomes tempting—alluring even—that you knew someone had to physically pry you off of him until you were filled with his seed. “Well, you’re so good with kids, wanna make some of your own?”

Seungcheol beckons closer, grinning mischievously, “Should I? You want me to put my babies in you? Fill you up with cum?”

You mewl at the thought, bringing his warmth closer, “I’d be so full…taking your fat cock and all your hot cum inside me…it’d be a dream, especially knowing how good you’re taking care of us, especially me.”

“You’d want that, hmm,” driving himself into you until you're lost in your own world again—losing the grasp on reality—and he persists. “You want my cum making a mess of you and this house just so I could put some babies in this pretty cunt? Hmm? That what you want?”

You nod mindlessly, anchoring yourself to him until he finally lets up. When he does, you feel the power surges through you as if you’re fresh new battery, the electrical current being the cum he shoots up into you. You let yourself ride this high, rocking into his hips, and soon your weight takes over, deducing you to a puddle. He takes his final pumps, cooing softly at your lips as you share a kiss, then drops you back on the dining table, letting you catch your breath as the cum spills slowly out of you and stains the floor under your feet.

He stands between your legs, tracing over the texture of your thighs, and his other hand claims your waist, meeting your face with a tired but tender smile. “Hi.”

You softly chuckle, resting a palm on the back of his neck. “Hi,” you repeat back.

“So dinner?”

You playfully roll your eyes, bordering his hips with your legs. “Are you offering to cook?”

“My job requires me to, so yes,” he traces over your jaw, drawing in closer, “Wouldn’t want to feed my clients burnt Mac and cheese with their frozen Dino nuggies.”

“True,” your arms lock at the elbows around his neck, “But what else can you make besides Mac and cheese with Dino nuggies?”

“That is the question, isn’t it?” He answers vaguely.

You finger through his hair and notice how his perspiration has left him mouthwateringly disheveled, quietly contemplating how to stretch out this vacation time. Your solution: never leave each other’s side.

“I’ll tell you what. We can think about what to eat…after a shower. “

You retrieve his hand, tugging him in your desired direction and he follows graciously with a knowing grin. “We can do that, but we both know that shower will end up more dirty than clean.”

“Good thing I’m an expert in keeping a clean home, now it’s your turn to clean my home.”

His dimple graced his cheek, visibly interested. “My pleasure.”

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roses-for-rosalyn · 2 months

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Cowboys

Ellie x reader (for now)

Part 2

summary: A stranger comes to your door- it turns out it's not one of your usual encounters cw: guns, cowboy lingo, fem! reader, cowboy crossdresser Ellie, eventual smut, blood, injuries, your average confusing lesbianism, eventual smut, no use of y/n wc: 3.6k

for those who prefer ao3 <3 gotchu minors DNI (I will steal all you pillowcases)

LINKS TO HELP PALESTINE l DAILY CLICK

Nothing could beat the beauty of the sunset in the desert. Purples, blues, oranges, and yellows swirled together to paint a new masterpiece every night. And every night you would sit on your small, wooden porch with a cup of tea and watch as the sun slowly sinks into the horizon. Tonight was no exception.

The sky becomes darker and darker until the moon and the stars come out, bathing the desert in a silver light. You struggle with the stubborn, old front door for a moment before you step into your little ranch house.

A chill runs through you as the temperature outside rapidly declines. You kneel in front of the fireplace and use the little kindling you have for a fire. It was enough to keep you warm for a few hours while you read yourself to sleep. Sometimes you felt lucky that it was a small enough house that the small fire would warm up the whole place. Your bed was just a few paces away from the mantle.

You stand up and dust off your hands before starting to undress for bed. As you begin to unbutton your bodice a knock sounds from the front door.

You scramble for your rifle by your bedside and check to make sure it’s loaded. You peek through one of your front windows to catch a glimpse of the mysterious stranger. At this hour and on the edge of town, your visitors weren’t usually friendly.

It seems a cowboy has paid you a visit this evening. Haven’t seen one of those in a damn long time. A gun is proudly holstered on his hip next to a lasso, and his black large-brimmed hat keeps his face dark enough that you can’t quite make it out.

He knocks again, louder. You creep up to the front door and slowly open it. Before he can process who opened the door you aim your rifle right at his chest.

“Hands up.” You demand, your voice is surprisingly steady.

“Woah there, I just stopped to ask for some directions.” A deep, yet feminine voice replies. It sounds like she was all too sure you weren’t going to be using that weapon on her, she didn’t even bother to move. You cock the gun, trying like hell to keep your expression blank, unphased while your entire body fills with adrenaline. She takes a step back and puts her hands up. Her hat still covers her face in shadow, it’s like confronting a ghost.

“You should have stopped somewhere else.” You take a step towards her, closing the door behind you while keeping your vision trained on the woman.

“You’re much different than the other women I’ve run into out here.” She looks up slightly, the moonlight illuminating pink, slightly chapped lips forming a smug smirk. “Where’s your husband, miss?”

“I swear if you don’t get back on your goddamn horse I’ll put a hole right through your chest.” she steps towards you, the muzzle of the gun pokes right under her collarbone.

She finally looks at you, silver light exposes a sharp, feminine face dotted with freckles darkened by days in the sun. The sight of her face catches you off guard for just enough time, allowing her to grab the barrel of the rifle and pull it right out of your hands. She drops the gun and it clatters loudly to the ground, echoing through the empty desert landscape. She grabs your wrists before you can start fighting back and pins them above your head against the door with one hand.

“There,” she grunts as you struggle against her grip, she’s surprisingly strong, “now we can have a conversation.”

“Go to Hell.” You say, seething with rage and frustration because she was able to overpower you so easily. She shakes her head and laughs for a moment, saying something under her breath like all this trouble.

You were just about to spit in her face when she said, “Where’s the nearest hotel darlin’?” Your eyes widen at the innocent question, slightly embarrassed. This was a first, she really just needed directions. She uses your stunned silence to talk some more, “I’ve been savin’ up so I could have a bed for the night. And I could really really use a bed tonight, miss.” You stop struggling against her grip and she lets go. She still has that stupid smirk on her face. “So if you could point me in the right direction it would be much appreciated.”

“Head southwest, you’ll hit a trail that will lead you right into town.” You dust off your dress and straighten it out.

“Much appreciated, darlin’.” She tips her hat and walks off toward her horse. You watch in shock as she mounts her horse and before riding away she says just loud enough, “I’ll be seein’ you.” And with a nod, she was off.

You slowly bend down to pick up the Winchester, cradling it against your chest as you watch the stranger disappear into the night. As you head inside you wonder if you ever will see that strange woman again, and fall asleep debating whether or not you would want to.

** **

The next morning you head to the school house. The steady feeling and sound of your horse trotting along the dirt path always forced your mind to wander elsewhere. Right now you couldn’t stop thinking about the woman from last night. The schoolhouse was right in the middle of town, would you see her again? Would she even recognize you? If she did, would she even try to talk to you?

The interaction was a bit embarrassing for you, but to be fair you had your fair share of vile men looking for trouble and hostile groups of Apache knocking on your front door. Your father had taught you how to use his Winchester rifle, the very same rifle you use now, and you mentally thanked him for it every night. You had only used it to kill one man, he wouldn’t take no for an answer and you gave him plenty of warnings. He didn’t believe your threats so now he was buried about 500 feet from the house in an unmarked grave, you were sure no one would miss a man like that. Most of the time the Apache would just come to ask questions about men passing through the area, they never tried to attack you, thankfully, but they would always come at the most ungodly hours and were quite impatient.

Last night was a first, you had never had a cowboy knock at your door, and then she ended up being a woman. The idea of her was so intriguing and you couldn’t figure out why. For some reason, she shook you more than anyone else had since you lived out here. And you’d seen quite a lot.

Your thoughts are interrupted as you reach town, the sound of rickety carriages, hooves against the packed dirt road, and the chatter of men in front of the Sheriff’s Office make it hard to focus.

“Hello there, sunshine!” you hear a male voice call out. You turn towards the voice to see Jesse making his way past you on horseback, lugging today's newspapers to the apothecary. He made the trip from Sante Fe every morning. He was nice enough, you liked talking to him, but not as much as you felt like you should. The ladies at the apothecary, Dina, and Maria, would always encourage you to talk to him. They desperately wanted you to move on from your husband. He was long gone and you knew that, you were even thankful for it, which is why you were nervous to start again. You didn’t want to have to go through anything like that again.

You wave back and smile, “Hi there, Jesse.” You decide to be polite, “Hear anything good today?” He tightens the reins of his horse and stops right next to you.

“They struck gold in Elizabethtown, and there’s gonna be a shortage of tobacco ‘round these parts within the week because of a dust storm over in Tennessee.”

“Well, I’m sure they’ll have a panic on their hands pretty soon then. I don’t know a man here who can live without their cigars.” You smile and Jesse laughs politely at your attempt at a joke.

“Alright, don’t want the kids to show up before I do, I'd best be headin’ to the school.” You yearned to leave this awkward conversation through any means possible. Today was not the day for small talk.

“Ok, I’ll see you tomorrow then, miss.” Your head snaps towards Jesse. You’re suddenly transported to last night and listening to the way the cowboy’s words would drip from her lips, smooth as honey “Miss”. Calm and sure even with a gun pointed right to her heart.

You quickly snap out of it and nod politely at Jesse as you begin to part ways. You head to the schoolhouse in a hurry, the kids gave you hell if you were late.

** **

You’re beginning to lock up the schoolhouse when you hear footsteps approaching. “Well hello there, miss.” You recognize the voice all too quickly, you don’t even need to turn around. “Was really hopin’ I’d find you here.”

As you fish into your pocket for the key you respond, “And how exactly did you find me here?” you turn around and begin to walk past her toward your horse. She follows you. From a brief glance at her, you can see she wears a bandana to cover her face, you could only see her eyes. “You don’t even know my name.”

“I just asked those nice ladies at the apothecary if they knew the women who lived just outside of town, they were more than happy a “nice gentleman” took interest in you. They told me just about everything they knew, your name, some snippets of gossip. I’m sure if I stayed they would’ve told me your life story” You finally turn to face her, your expression unamused. She took her hat off at some point when she was talking to you, her eyes are green, radiant in the unrelenting desert sunlight. You were almost jealous. She wore a dark blue button-down that sat surprisingly flat against her chest and suspenders. She could pass for a man if she wanted to. “So, I take it you don’t have a husband then?”

“What’s it to you?” you cross your arms, defensively.

“I was just curious, I asked last night, but you weren’t exactly in a talking mood.” You swear you can make out her smirk under the bandana.

“No, I haven’t had a husband for quite a while. Is that what you came all the way here to ask me?” She lowers her bandana and steps towards you, backing you into your horse.

“No, I came to ask a favor.” She hesitates for a moment, “No one here can know that I’m, um, well you know..”

“A woman?” pretty easy to piece together after seeing the bandana.

“Yea,” She backs away from you a little. Seems like someone is embarrassed to ask a favor. “It’s just easier for me to get things this way and it’s lookin’ like I’ll be staying later than I planned so..”

“Alright, I won’t say anything.” She opens her mouth to begin to thank you, but you weren’t about to let an opportunity like this pass you by. “But, you owe me a favor then.”

Her excited expression disappeared as quickly as it came, if you weren’t looking you could have missed it, “Um, alright, what do ya need?”

“You know your little visit last night?” You had been cooking this proposition up all day, hoping she would run into you again.

“Yes.”

“Well, that happens to me about every other day. I don’t want a husband, but I do need a guard dog of some kind.” You didn’t want a man in your home, but you did want the protection of one, this was the perfect opportunity, almost too perfect.

“A guard dog?” She seems mildly offended by you comparing her to a dog.

“I’m tired of not being able to sleep because of surprise visitors. And I’ll pay you in two square meals a day, tea, and my homemade moonshine.” She does not look amused. “And I won’t tell anyone you’re a lady.”

“I don’t know-”

“I know you’re almost out of money, I’m sure Tommy is bleeding you dry as an outside visitor. I won’t charge you anything.” Something in her loosens, you can see it.

“So do I sleep on your floor?”

“Or outside if you’d like, makes no difference to me. There’s a fire pit out there for ya” You turn around and mount your horse, eager to get home. “We got a deal?” You reach your hand down towards her. She hesitates before shaking it.

“I’m Ellie by the way.” You nod

“Alright Ellie, I’ll see you at my house then. I trust you’re familiar with the address” She just nods, slightly shocked. You smile and then head off, the comforting sound of hoofbeats clearing the thoughts in your head. On the way home you tend to just listen to the sounds of the desert. After a day of loud, squealing children it was healing. You’re sure you’d go crazy if you lived in town.

** **

You had just finished making your evening tea when you heard a knock on your door. For the first time in a long time, you don’t go into fight or flight mode. You open the door with a smile, part of you is surprised she even showed up. Your proposition was a little ridiculous, but that truly shows how desperate you are.

“Hello there stranger.” You are really pushing it with this attitude, you can tell, but something in you likes it when she gets annoyed.

“Hi.” She takes off her hat and lowers her bandana, something you’ve observed as a habit of hers, one of respect possibly. “So am I sleepin’ with the rattlesnakes or on your floor?”

“You get bit by a rattlesnake come to me and I’ll suck the venom out myself. Until then you best set up camp before dark darlin’.” You smile at her sweetly.

“Figured as much.” She smirks and walks away to set up camp.

“Dinner’ll be ready in 20 minutes. I hope ya like stew.” You call out to her. “Oh, and there’s a spring out back if you need any water!”

** **

The stew finally thickens up to the way you like it, you pour it into two bowls and quickly slurp up your serving. Didn’t taste amazing, but it was food.

You open your front door to bring Ellie her food and see that she’s already started a fire, she’s sipping from a silver flask just staring at the flames.

You approach and wordlessly hand her a bowl of stew and a spoon. She looks up at you “You gonna eat?”

“No, I- uh already ate.” More like inhaled but she didn’t need to know that. You point at her flask. “What’s in there?”

“You’re tellin’ me you don’t know what’s in here?” She raises her eyebrows.

“I know it’s liquor, Ellie, I’m just askin’ what kind.” Her confused expression drops.

“Whiskey.” She looks at the flask in her hand, then at you. “Want some?” She clearly did not want to offer it to you. But you sit down next to her and reach your hand out for it.

“Hand it over.” She hands you the flask. The metal was cool to the touch, almost shocking after the desert heat all day. You take a sip and the liquor burns its way down your throat, and your face scrunches a little. You were used to shooting whiskey, but this was particularly terrible, even worse than your moonshine. “Wow, that’s pretty awful.”

Ellie laughs between bites of stew, “You’re stew isn’t the greatest thing I’ve tasted either.”

“Hey!” You lightly punch her shoulder. She giggles even more. “You’re welcome for the food by the way.” You take another swig of whiskey and then hand the flask back to the cowgirl.

“Thank you,” she takes the flask, “for the meal.” she hands you her empty bowl. “And a place to stay, even if it’s outside.”

“We’ll see, maybe you’ll earn your way inside.” You take her bowl and turn to head inside.

“Is that a challenge?” She calls after you.

“Maybe.” You call back.

You step inside and immediately undress for bed, the whiskey making your eyes droop closed. You can barely get your buttons undone before you fall into bed, for the first time in a while, not having to worry about dangerous strangers knocking down your door.

** **

You wake up to a hasty knock coming from the front door. It’s still dark outside. You weren’t supposed to have to deal with this anymore. You grab your rifle and don’t even bother checking who is at the door simply out of annoyance. Would have bit you in the ass later if it was a surprise visitor. You open the door and cock the rifle. To your astonishment, you open the door to Ellie, holding her side. There’s a dark stain forming under her hands, her face is bloody and bruised. And yet she’s got a smug yet pained smile on her face. “This how you’re always gonna greet me?”

“Jesus Ellie,” you usher her inside quickly. “What happened?”

“You got some visitors, a group of Apache men.” She sits down in one of your wooden dining room chairs. You rush over to grab the small medical kit you had managed to fashion over the years. “They wanted to see you in particular, when I told them you weren’t accepting visitors they sort of attacked me. It was one versus six”

“They don’t trust many people.” You undo Ellie’s suspenders and begin unbuttoning her shirt without even thinking. “Most folks round here shoot first and ask questions later, they don’t have any respect or patience for a stubborn cowboy.” You walk over, grab a candle and some matches, and light it so you can see. “Can’t say I blame them. I am sorry though I’d thought they’d see your gun and back off”

“That is real optimistic of ya.” You remove her right arm from the sleeve of her shirt. She is wearing some sort of binding around her chest- so that’s how she’s managed to pass for a man.

“Wow, that’s a big word for you.” You smirk at her as you clean your hands with some moonshine.

“Really? I’m bleedin’ out and you’re making fun of me?” You press gauze to her wound, she hisses through her teeth.

“Please, you’re not bleeding out. Shouldn’t even need stitches, just some cleaning and dressing.” You look up at her, you’re not quite sure, but even in the dim candlelight, you could swear she was blushing. You wouldn’t dare mention it when she’s already made herself so vulnerable.

“Now for the hard part.” You take out a small bottle of vinegar.

“Alright.” Ellie leans back in the chair, ready for the sting of the vinegar.

“Here.” You take her left hand and place it on your shoulder. “Squeeze if you need to.” She nods and you take that as your cue to begin. You pour the vinegar on the wound and you watch as her abs contract, her hand squeezes your shoulder, pretty hard, but you know she was trying not to hurt you, even in pain.

You stand up and gently wrap a few layers of gauze around her mid-section, just in case it starts bleeding again during the night. You were so, so close to her, you could feel the heat radiating from her skin. “You always wear that?”

“Wear what?”

“The-the bandages, round your chest.” She looks down at them like she almost forgot they were there. Suddenly you realize how personal that question must be. “Sorry, I shouldn’t said anything. You don’t have to answer”

“No, It’s alright. I don’t mind. Yes, I’ve worn this for a while now, easier to get around when you look like a man.” You nod and finish wrapping the gauze around her and pin it in place. You put a bit of vinegar on a piece of gauze and begin cleaning the cuts on her face. “Oh, you don’t need to do that, miss.”

“Please just let me clean off your face. Were you planning on walkin’ around town tomorrow with dried blood on your cheeks?” She opens her mouth to say something but closes it. She’s quiet as you gently clean her face, you can see every freckle, every scar, her eyes shining in the candlelight. It was odd being this close to her. You had never felt comfortable being this physically close to someone. Her warmth almost invited you in, made you want to press your nose to her neck, run your hands across her skin, feeling along all the freckles and scars, memorizing the spot of each one. you wanted to know her in a way you have never wanted to know anybody else.

“Hey,” a gentle voice grounds you back into reality. “I think my face is clean.” She smiles softly. She was right, at some point, you had gotten her face completely clean, you’re not sure how long she let you drag the cloth across her freckled cheeks before she said something.

“Yeah, sorry.” You back away and put the blood-soaked gauze in the burn pile. “You should sleep in here. Don’t think anyone else will be coming tonight. I’ll go get your bedroll.” Ellie just nods and you go out to grab her things.

You hurry back and set up her bedroll on the floor right next to your bed. She makes her way to it and sits down on the floor with a thud, careful to not contort her body in a way that could re-open the wound. She collapses onto the wool blankets. When you’re sure she’s settled you place your rifle back next to your bed and fall into your mattress, knowing you’ll be exhausted tomorrow.

lmk what you think! Likes, comments and reblogs always appreciated!

LINKS TO HELP PALESTINE l DAILY CLICK

Part 2 >>

#ellie williams #ellie x reader #ellie williams x reader #ellie the last of us #ellie x fem reader #ellie tlou #tlou 2 ellie #tlou2 #cowboy!au #western! au #cowboy!Ellie #cleaning wounds trope hehe

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eternalsams · 11 months

Text

Like Cats and Dogs ➻ Miguel O'Hara

pairing: Miguel O'Hara (Spider-Man 2099) x Spider-Woman!reader

warning/content: black cat and golden retriever energy, Miguel is a party pooper

summary: you finally find the way to travel across the dimensions and you meet an interesting person.

words count: 1.5k

a/n: English isn't my first language so please take that into your consideration. Also, this is straightly inspired by a conversation I had with an AI of Miguel and I had to share this because it was so fun.

You slowly open your eyes, your pupils adapting to the new light around you. The night sky faces you and the high buildings reach the stars. You look down at your bracelet and close the portal you just came from. You immediately notice the other person in the room and jump back, arming your web shooters and aiming for the man in the room. "Who are you? Show yourself or I else shoot!" You threaten and the man steps closer, revealing himself calmly. He's tall, oh so tall. He's got broad shoulders and a strong jawline. His fists are clenched but what makes you relax is the big spider drawn on his body. The suit he's wearing looks like yours, only yours have a yellow spider on your back. "Do I know you?" He asks calmly but watches all your movements. You walk around him, inspecting his suit from every angle. "I don't know... Do I?" You say, staying at a certain distance from him, not knowing if he was dangerous or not. His jaw clenches and I can see he's getting impatient. "My name is Miguel O’Hara. I’m Nueva York‘s one and only spider man. My life is pretty hectic and full of one bad thing after the other." He introduces himself, hoping you would cooperate and do the same. He takes a step closer and you get a good look at the dark veins in his eyes. "Do I know you?" He asks again.

You chuckle and stand back in front of him. "Did you practice this little speech of yours in front of your mirror this morning?" You cross your arms across your chest and raise an eyebrow. He frowns and take a step towards you, menacing. "My life is not a joke. I’m doing everything I can to protect this city from any threats. Why do you want to fight me?" You look down at his fists and can see his laser web wrapping his hands, threatening you. You slightly smile and look back up at his red eyes. "You think you're the only one with these bad boys, huh?" You shoot a short web to the wall next to you. His lips part and you can see him deep in his thoughts for a second before he looks back at you. "You... are like me?" You simply shrug. "Seems like it, big guy! But you... seem different, evolved..." You slightly frown and grab his hand, inspecting his talons and then grabbing his face to look closer at his fangs. "Are you a vampire or something?" You ask him before he rips your hand off his face. "I am not a vampire." He growls. "Oh... Are you a demon then?" You ask excitedly and shook his shoulders, which seems not to please him that much. He yanks your hands away a second time and steps back from you. "Not a demon either. Why are you here? What do you want?" You exhale loudly and pace slowly in front of him. "I've heard about you, Spidey... So I left my dimension to meet you. I still don't know if I'm glad I met you or not though..."

He stares at you, confused and search for his next words. "Other dimension? What are you rambling about. If you weren’t so annoying I’d knock you out." You roll your eyes out and chuckle. "Have you ever heard of the multiverse?" You cock your head to the side, enjoying how confused he looks. "The... multiverse..? You can travel through dimensions?" He raises his eyebrows. "Yup!" You clap your hands and shoot webs on the ceiling to make yourself a swing, sitting down on it. "You, my friend... are from Earth-928 and I am from Earth-634. You're the Spider-Man here and I'm the Spider-Woman of my dimension." You explain to him. "You're kidding..? I don't have the most... normal life but this? What brought you here?" He looks back up at you. "I told you! You did! I was doing some research about the multiverse and I had a weird vivid dream where I saw multiple Spider-Men, and so I knew I had to meet some of them, including you!" You point at him and he blinks. "So you came here, to my world, based on a dream? You’re crazy! I guess that's a good thing..." I grin at him and pat his cheek. "Aww, Spideyyy.... You're being soft on me!" He slaps my hand away and growls. "Hey! I'm not being soft!"

"You so are!" You chuckle and pinch his cheek like a grandma would do. He slaps your hand once again and keep it away from his face. "Don't you dare touch me again!" You hold up your hands in surrender with a sly smirk. "Okay, okay... So... You single, Guapo?" You wiggle your eyebrows. "Why? You wanna take me out on a date?" He huffs, as if the mere idea of dating you was ridiculous. "Maybe... We could have a bunch of inter-dimensional babies!" His little smile quickly drops and he blinks. "What? You're clearly insane..." He sighs. "Oh, come on, Mr Vampire... Don't you ever smile or crack up?" You can see he doesn't like the nickname but you don't really care. "I do smile. Just not with you." You step closer and have to tilt your head back to look in his eyes. "I wanna see that fangy smile!" You say excitedly. "I don't need to show you anything." He looks like he’s on the defensive, and looks a bit disturbed that you might notice he’s a mutant. "You’re from a different reality- how am I supposed to trust you?" He frowns and crosses his arms on his toned chest. "I'm literally a different version of you! We're the same! You're a vigilante, I'm a vigilante. You save people from bad guys, I save people from bad guys... What else do you need to trust me?!" You throw your arms up and exhale loudly. "You’re from an alternate reality. For all I know, you’re a supervillain pretending to be good. I need proof." He just stands there when you're pacing in front of him. "Alright... Tell me what you wanna know." You sigh and face him. "Why are you here? You said because you saw a vision of me. Why did you feel the need to find me?" He asks, tilting his chin up to look down at you. "Curiosity."

"You’re risking the health of your reality just to satisfy your curiosity?" He raises his eyebrows, almost speechless. "Yeah, my dad always told me I was too curious for my own good... But hey! What can I do about it?" You chuckle and shrug. "Maybe try not to put your home in danger if you get a passing whim! You're so weird..." He sighs and pinch the bridge of his nose. "So, tell me, Mr Vampire... What else do you need from me so you trust me?" You ask with a sly smirk. He growls and throws his head back. "I'm not a vampire, for the last time! Stop calling me that!" His fists have charged and begin to crackle with a blue electric energy, he seems ready to fight with you. You slightly laugh and hold your hands up in surrender. "Okay, okay, I'm sorry... It's just so easy to mess with you, big guy!" He shakes his head and grits his teeth. "You’re so obnoxious. You know that? What do you wanna know about me?" You think about it and smile widely, pointing at his face. "Can I touch your fangs? I wanna check if they're sharp..." He frowns and looks weirdly at you. "No! What is wrong with you? Why are you so obsessed with my fangs?" He takes a step back from you, keeping his distance. "I'm not obsessed with your fangs." You immediately respond but you both know you're lying. Your gaze catches something else and your eyes widen. "Are those claws?!" You exclaim and almost jump on him, grabbing him arm and inspecting his hand. "What are you doing? You can't just touch me without my permission. I'm not some play thing, okay?" He says in a little voice, way less confident. You smile and softly touch the end, feeling how sharp the claws are. "You're fascinating..." You lead his hand towards him and watch the claws retract when his fingers touch his suit. "Hey! Stop that! No touching me without permission. That's a rule! And why am I so fascinating? I'm not some kind of experiment! And they're not claws, it's talons!" He exclaims, getting rid of your touch. "No... You're just so different from me..." You ignore his request not to be touched and grab his other hand, checking again his talons.

"Don't you get the message?!" He pulls his arm out of your grip. "Stop touching me!" His fists crackle with energy as his anger returns. You step back and hold up your hands. "Alright, alright... Calm down, Guapo. I'm sorry, I didn't want to upset you or hurt your feelings." He seems to calm down and his shoulders relax. "It's just that I spent months working on travelling across the multiverse and when I finally do it, the first person I meet is a Spider-hero, just like me. It's all so exciting!" You grin and you can almost see a smile creeping his way onto his lips before he looks away, shaking his head. "You're so weird..." He sighs and you smile even more. "Oh, trust me I know."

#miguel o'hara #spider-man 2099 #across the spiderverse #marvel #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara fanfic #miguel o'hara imagine #spider-man 2099 x reader #spider-man 2099 x you #spider-man 2099 fanfic #spider-man 2099 imagine #spider-man #oscar isaac #oscar isaac x reader #spider-man across the spider-verse #mcu

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undercoverpena · 3 months

Text

isn't it

din djarin x f!reader

summary: at first, it had been you who had found a problem with each one he’d landed at. but, at some point between your clothing being around your ankles, you’re sure he’d begun to find problems with you leaving too.

warnings: mentions of smut/alludes to smut. bad star wars writing (probs, i'm new forgive me). no use of y/n. brief mention/allusion of hand necklace (thanks @rhoorl for the term), m!oral, p in v. loosely season one/two, although likely au. wordcount: 1.7k an: a huge massive thank you to @saradika for firstly convincing me i could do this, and then letting me show her this so i could be assured i didn't butcher him. ily so much 🤍

It’s beautiful.

The sound of wind rustling through it, how it waves in spots up and down the hill—moving side to side like a cosmic wave.

You thought you’d known green until now; thought you had known silver too, assumed you understood the way reflections worked and how quick movements could be. But that was before him.

Before you’d known the feel of his solid body lay on top of yours.

Then, you discovered a lot of things. Like how easy it was to spread your thighs on either side of him. For your fingers to seek in the dark—how they effortlessly hunt and find the parts he’ll expose to the night, but never to the light.

You even found you don’t hate the sound of your name when he says it. Somehow makes it longer, more impactful—like it has meaning when it comes from his mouth.

All of which were things you’d never known before you convinced him to bring you.

A promise, a barter—an exchange. Your hand clutching his blaster slugs, tears clutching to your lashes, flowing from your eyes—aware of what you look like, aware of the desperation you reek of.

Just take me to a different planet. A suitable one. Please.

At first, it had been you who had found a problem with each one he’d landed at.

A bogus reason, a ploy—all stemmed from a rising infatuation with the man under beskar. But, at some point between your cheek against the wall of his ship and your clothing being around your ankles, you’re sure he’d begun to find problems with you leaving too.

But, this place is a gift—it’s a slice of heaven.

It had been a stop gap you’d almost pleaded at him not to make, a pause in the travel plan. Now you’re not sure you want to leave it.

Because here is a sea of greens, a variety, a never-ending display of every shade between the letters which make up the name. Some are more saturated, some are deeper; some are tinged with yellows and others are blotted with dark spots that aim to discolour, but just make them more unique.

There’s no bounty here—no collection to be made.

Just a sight for your eyes and a moment for him. And, you think you could sit here for hours and bask in it. Take it in. Allow the air of this planet to fill your lungs and carve a space inside of you that no one will ever be able to rip from you.

Stroking your fingers through the ground, you feel how your tunic presses to your spine—how it’s held there by the perspiration on your spine. The fabric desperate to blow, to whip around your ribs and the sleeves to float around your arms.

You don’t care that it’s warm—don’t mind that you can feel your skin prickling under it.

Because you’re lost in it, the limitlessness of this place. How surreal it is that each blade points north to the sky, all upright, anchored pleasingly to the ground it came from.

Things had been beautiful earlier too, you remind yourself.

When you had been enveloped by darkness, not a slither of light—not that there’d be the space for it in the small cot. His hands, forever a staple, an anchor, to your hips, determined to pin you there.

He’s a man who chases after those who run, and you suppose it’s ingrained in him. This belief that everyone, at some point, will leave—will go. You think it’s why he holds you tightly when you’re nothing but bare; you suppose it’s why after, when he unsheathes himself, he always traces his thumb over the places his fingers have been, reminding your skin he’s kind, just in case you need another reminder not to leave.

“We should go.”

You hum because you should. Yet, your mind rationalises that the baby is still asleep and there are more minutes to sit in the silence, to not dwell—you suppose it’s why your hand reaches up, and brushes over the gloved fingers instead.

Action is easier than words when it comes to him.

A game the two of you play, one of silence and strategy—wondering who’d be the first to crack and speak more words than necessary. You suspect it’ll be you in time, likely soon enough.

It’s why you clutch, cling. Weaving and working until you’re holding his fingers at an odd angle, a silent plea there, a wishful hope spoken without using syllables or your lips and mouth.

“One more minute.”

“Okay,” you respond.

Watching the strands move again, swaying, dancing.

A content sigh rolls from you, and briefly—in the back of your mind, you wonder if you’re really awake. Whether this is some form of peace your brain has concocted after the sight of him stained in crimson; his palms flat in the air, modulator expelling he’s fine, it isn’t his, he’s okay, it’s okay—

For a while, you’d believed him, until you felt the bruises—all pulsing and colouring in shades you can’t imagine. An image being drawn, shaded in—forever in black and white, just outlines and half-concocted feelings you have on what lives under his armour.

He sighs next to you, it rattling out through his helmet.

And you wait to hear it, the confirmation he normally hands you. Deep, even through his modulator that this “isn’t it” either.

It’s been a routine ever since the two of you began this dalliance. Ever since you’d smuggled yourself aboard his ship with the promise that you’d never ask him for anything else.

Neither realising how false that would be.

You beg for a lot. For more, for his lips, his fingers and his cock. You wait for the darkness, count down to it—thrum with excitement for it when he steps down the ladder and his helmet is aimed in your direction.

Somehow, no words are said, just mutual acknowledgement, acceptance. Or that's what you call it. It being seemingly better than admitting that you crave it—him. That you care, that the sight of him smeared in ruby still haunts you—lingers there, bleeds into good days and casts shadows while you wait in the hull. The child in your arms, soothing him—telling yourself you’re giving him comfort, when you suppose you gain more from the small being than you could ever provide.

“This isn’t it,” he eventually says from above.

His helmet turned, and you imagine the eyes that live under it. Question if they’re almond-shaped or hooded, whether they’re brown, green or blue. You also wonder if he looks at you with curiosity or want, whether it’s with a thousand thoughts running or none at all.

“No?”

“No. Not this one.”

That’s when you close your eyes. Let your ears do the seeing.

Allow your other senses to kick in, to swallow the lack of sight and make do. You end up lingering on the gloved hand in yours—the one which sometimes slides around your neck, lightly pinches either side as you moan at the feel of him. The same hand which slides down your spine to aid your motion, or lingers there when the terrain isn't trouble-free.

It's the remembering which makes you let go of it, of him.

Quickly managing to pretend your hand doesn’t feel cold when you do. Stuff down the emptiness that begins to drown you in the space you put between you, as you stand up. A part of you admitting defeat, silently saying goodbye to tall stands of green and the rolling hills adorned with shades.

“Thought you’d be sick of me by now.”

It rumbles from you. All heavy, laced in its own metal—ready to slam into him and take him down.

It doesn’t. You’re not sure any words ever could.

You suppose it’s why he says nothing, silently following, not too far so that you’re alone, but not close enough that you can feel the ghost of his touch. The distance measured, all purposeful. It remains so until you’re back aboard, until the door closes behind you and you’re once again surrounded by metal.

A part of you knows you shouldn’t grow used to him, shouldn’t be waiting for him to flood your spine with his chest. But you do—you really fucking do.

It’s why you don’t move, don’t take a step closer to check on the baby or even unclench your hand from around the strands of green you’d stolen. The ones you’d ripped up from the ground, roots tickling your wrist—the rest remaining tucked closely between curled fingers and a sweaty palm.

Yours. The smallest piece of a place you’ll likely never see.

“You should sleep.”

It’s an order. Direct—practically thrown at you. Followed by a tight grip on your waist, fingers finding the same place they always do. His place. The one not needing a mark, but he leaves them all the same, ownership, a possession.

Sometimes in the throes of it, you hear him hiss mine, jus’ mine—your head nodding in the dark, because you are, you know you are, the same as you suspect he knows he’s yours. It’s another thing which festers behind your teeth, keeping lips clamped shut, knowing it requires no confirmation, no words in exchange for the momentary slip-up he lets escape. But then, you offer nothing when you trace mine against him with your tongue, when you muffle the words around his shaft as your mouth widens to take more of him.

It’s just pleasure, an easy-to-choose solution to another body being in proximity—a lie you tell yourself.

One you bargain with when he sleeps and you’re coated in the dark, convincing yourself until sleep carries you away and you wake to find yourself either alone or the very opposite.

Because it’s easier, simpler. Far better than admitting your heart does a double take when he returns, that you yearn for him in the days that pass when he leaves you on the ship.

It’s less complicated than asking him if you’ll ever be worthy of seeing him.

And you’re not the type of person to question. So you don’t.

And so the routine continues.

an: you don't know how long this has been burning in my head.

#din djarin x reader #din djarin x f!reader #din djarin x you #mando x reader #mando x you #mando x f!reader #the mandalorian x f!reader #the mandalorian x female reader #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian fanfiction #din djarin fanfiction

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feirceangel · 8 months

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Imagine | Saved (Sanji)

Imagine being attacked by a bandit and begging a stranger for help.

Word Count: 1470

Warnings: hurt/comfort

(Not my gif!)

Another kick was aimed at your stomach, stars splattering across your vision as you wheeze with pain.

“Learned your lesson yet, bitch?!” The bandit screams as he levels another kick, this time aimed at your back. “This’ll teach ya to talk back!”

You try to fight back tears at the onslaught of kicks but the pain is unlike any you’ve felt before.

All you had done was tell the man to stop harassing some kids who were playing in the street. They weren’t hurting anyone by playing outside, but this ruffian had taken offence when their ball rolled too close to him.

Instinct had taken over before you could think rationally, and you leapt out in front of the children. Hands splayed wide, you demanded that he leave the kids alone.

He obviously didn’t care for that.

And now here you are, splayed on the dirt, crying hot tears as waves of pain wrack your body.

Some of the townsfolk are watching on the sidelines, too afraid to move.

You meet their eyes, silently begging for help. They glance away. The people you’ve known for years and years, who you’ve helped countless times, they look away from your suffering.

That is enough to break your heart as the bandit breaks your body with another swift kick.

Struggling, you slowly start to crawl away. You’re determined to at least try and escape. The odds may be against you but that doesn’t mean you can give up.

Dirt scrapes your chin as you use your sore arms to drag yourself away from your attacker. He laughs at you pathetic attempt, launching into more verbal assaults. His words fall on deaf ears, your only focus on crawling away.

Your ribs sting sharply with every breath you take, your head pounding in time with your erratic heartbeat. Your hot breath blows clouds of dust with each inch you gain, and you can feel bruises forming where he kicked you so brutally.

Before you can struggle further away, a pair of black shoes comes to rest in front of you. You follow the shoes upwards to see legs and then a blond man in a black suit.

He has a cigarette perched between his lips, his expression displaying a disturbing lack of emotion.

You reach out, taking his boot in your hands and dragging yourself closer to the stranger.

You ignore the taunts of the bandit behind you, focusing on the man before you. His deep eyes meet your gaze.

“Please.. help me,” you beg.

Unable to lift your head anymore, you place your cheek atop his boot.

You hear him inhale deeply, followed by the soft thud of a cigarette falling to the dirt, then a rustle of fabric.

He crouches down and gently lifts your head. You’re shocked when he slides his suit coat under your head as a makeshift pillow.

“Of course I’ll help you, darling,” he says, his voice filled with an intense kindness that has you tearing up again.

You watch as he turns from you, his kindness disappearing in an instant as he faces your attacker.

You shiver at the intensity of his anger as he glares at the bandit.

“How dare you hurt her,” he says stepping forwards. “Swine like you shouldn’t even gaze upon such beauty.”

Pain momentarily forgotten, you watch as he tucks his hands in his pockets before raising his right leg.

“You think I’m scared of you?! My bounty is-“

The bandit doesn’t get to finish his bragging.

The blond’s foot moves faster than you can track, hitting the man with a sickening thud that sends him flying into a nearby building.

Astonished, you watch as the bandit struggles to stand up. He’s sweating now, realizing that this stranger is much more powerful than him. He shakes his head as the blond approaches.

“You’re misunderstanding-“

Your rescuer tsks, “It’s too late to grovel.”

The bandit tries to turn and run now that the tables have turned, but the blond is too fast. He brutally kicks the man back into the rubble without hesitation.

“Please-“

Blood sprays into the sky as he directs a kick at the bandit’s jaw.

You hear a sickening crack and watch him fall lifelessly to the dirt with a thump.

Mouth dry, you watch nervously as the suited man walks back to your side. He kneels down, eyes full of concern, the anger having dissolved right after he fell the bandit.

“Mademoiselle, are you alright? Where are you hurt?”

“Thank you,” you manage to breathe out. The pain has returned full force now that the adrenaline has worn off. It makes your vision swim with tears so you close your eyes. You shouldn’t be feeling embarrassed but you can’t help the swell of emotion from rising up.

This handsome stranger just saved your life when no one else would.

“You need a doctor,” the man states, not mentioning your tears as he glances up at the crowd. “Is there a doctor here?!”

“N-no,” a voice in the crowd replies.

Frowning, he returns his focus on you, “I’ll take you to our ship doctor, he can help.”

He hesitates for a second, before taking you in his arms. He tries not to jostle your wounds, guessing that at least a few of your ribs are broken.

The agony of being moved makes you cry out, clutching the fabric of his shirt as he lifts you bridal-style.

“I’m sorry, darling, I know it hurts. You’re doing so well,” his voice is soft, soothing.

You don’t even know this man, and yet you feel so safe in his embrace. His kind words of encouragement bring another bout of tears, as he begins walking.

After what feels like an eternity being held in his warm embrace, you reopen your eyes as you are gently set down.

Your saviour moves away from you, as a reindeer-like creature starts fussing over your injuries and asking questions. You can’t focus on anything except the man lighting a cigarette. He takes a long drag and lowers a hand down to his side.

Against your better judgement, you reach out and clasp his free hand.

“Please don’t leave,” you croak out, now surrounded by more unfamiliar faces as the rest of the crew checks out the commotion you’ve caused.

He pauses and you’re certain you’ve made a mistake. But that thought is squashed as he steps closer to you, “Of course.”

You must’ve passed out at some point.

Opening your eyes, you already feel much better. Your chest is bandaged and your headache gone, though it still hurts to breathe too deeply.

You glance to the side and see your rescuer seated beside the bed. He appears to be sleeping.

Shuffling slightly, you turn to get a better look at him. You’ve only just realized that he has curly eyebrows and a small goatee.

His eyes open and you are quick to avert your gaze.

“Are you feeling better?” He asks immediately, sitting up straighter.

You nod, “Yes, thank you.”

“I was worried, but Chopper said you only have two broken ribs and lots of bruising. You’ll want to rest for a few weeks.”

“Broken ribs sound about right.”

He tilts his head downwards, “I’m sorry I wasn’t there in time.”

“What do you mean? You saved my life,” you try to sit up but the sharp pain reminds you that you need rest. “I’d be dead without you.”

He doesn’t say anything. Instead, he raises his head again.

“Who are you? I want to know the name of my rescuer,” you ask, smiling a bit.

“Sanji,” he replies, finding himself lost in your grateful eyes.

“Sanji, my knight in shining armour,” you take his hand again. “Thank you.”

“And your name?”

You supply your name and he echoes it with a smile.

“I’m glad I could help you.“

Replaying the events in your head you suddenly realize something.

“You called me beautiful.”

His face flushes red at your sudden statement.

“No one’s ever called me that,” your eyes start to tear up again. “You’re the sweetest man I’ve ever met.”

He nearly melts at your words, face completely red now. Before he can utter a reply, the reindeer guy returns.

“Are you ok?! Don’t move, you broke some ribs so you need rest to get better!”

You smile at his fretting, “I’m alright now thanks to you.”

Sanji smiles as you reassure the doctor that you’re ok. Leaning back, he lets Chopper do his thing as he smokes.

He can’t help but wish that he made the bandit suffer a bit more when he sees you wince in pain. And he doesn’t let himself think about what would have happened had he not been walking down that particular street.

Fate was in your favour today.

#female reader #imagine #reader insert #x reader #one piece #one piece x reader #one piece reader insert #one piece imagine #vinsmoke sanji #sanji x reader #vinsmoke sanji x reader #Sanji x you

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ukiyowi · 7 months

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Channelled Messages II 💌

Channelling messages from your: Future Spouse's guides, your shadow self, your parents.

Note: Have fun!! And please reblog and send feedback (if you want) it helps a ton, have a lovely day everyone. Reblogging and paid readings help a lot! Pls DM me if you want one!

Masterlist! || Book a reading! || Tip 🫙!

Future Spouse's Guides

Your Shadow Self

Your Parents

- ✪✪✪ -

💌 Pile 1

My Dearest,

As the spirit guide of your future spouse, I am honored to offer you guidance and wisdom that transcends the boundaries of time and space. Though my role is to support your beloved from the spiritual realm, I am deeply invested in your happiness and well-being, for your future union is a testament to the profound love and connection you share. In this letter, I aim to provide you with advice that is both general yet specific, touching upon various aspects of life, not solely confined to matters of love.

First and foremost, let us discuss the significance of self-discovery. Throughout your life's journey, you will encounter a myriad of experiences, challenges, and joys. It is crucial to embrace these moments as opportunities for growth and self-understanding. As you become more attuned to your own needs, desires, and values, you will naturally radiate a sense of authenticity and confidence that will enrich your relationship.

Never forget the importance of compromise. In every relationship, there will be differences in opinions, preferences, and priorities. Approach these disagreements with a willingness to find common ground, and remember that sometimes, the act of yielding can be a powerful testament to your love.

Remember to nurture the small moments of joy and spontaneity. Life often unfolds in the ordinary, and it is within these seemingly simple moments that the deepest connections are forged. Cherish the laughter, the shared meals, and the quiet evenings together.

The universe is conspiring to bring you together with your beloved, and your spirit guides, myself included, watch over you with love and care. Embrace the lessons and blessings that come your way, and may your love story be a timeless testament to the power of love.

They are waiting for you, your souls are meant to meld and they will very soon, till then please take care of yourself <3.

With love 🩵

💌 Pile 2

Hello love,

Beginning with, let me assure you that your path is illuminated by the radiant light of potential and destiny. The future holds both challenges and triumphs, and it is essential to approach them with an open heart and a resilient spirit. Remember, life is a beautiful tapestry woven from both joy and sorrow, and every thread contributes to your unique and intricate story.

One of the most important pieces of advice I can offer is to embrace the ever-changing nature of existence. Life is a series of cycles, and like the seasons, it brings moments of both abundance and scarcity. In times of abundance, cherish the blessings bestowed upon you, but do not become complacent. Use your good fortune to uplift others and to grow as an individual. And in times of scarcity, hold steadfast to your inner strength, for they are the crucibles in which your character is forged.

In the pursuit of your dreams and aspirations, I urge you to cultivate patience and perseverance. Life's most significant accomplishments often require time and effort. Do not be discouraged by setbacks, for they are the stepping stones to your ultimate success. Your journey may be arduous at times, but your future spouse's spirit guide assures you that every challenge you face is an opportunity for growth. As you journey through life, you will encounter love in its many forms.

Some loves will be fleeting, like shooting stars in the night sky, while others will be enduring and steadfast like the North Star. It is important to discern between the two, for not all who enter your life are meant to stay, and not all who depart are lost.

Your relationship with yourself is the foundation upon which all other connections are built. Treat yourself with kindness and compassion, and remember that self-love is not a selfish act, but a necessary one. When you love and respect yourself, you radiate positivity, attracting love and respect from others.

Waiting for you~

💌 Pile 3

Hi sweetheart!

In the years to come, you will encounter crossroads and diverging paths. The choices you make at these junctures will shape your professional destiny. Remember, dear one, that it is not always about the most lucrative or prestigious option, but rather the one that aligns with your passions and values. Seek out work that resonates with your soul, for a fulfilling career is one that brings joy and a sense of purpose.

Let me reassure you that the path you're on is destined for greatness. While life can be a rollercoaster, remember that even the steepest drops can lead to thrilling highs. So, don't be afraid to embrace the twists and turns that come your way. They're all part of the grand adventure. Now, let's talk about your career.

Picture it like a delicious buffet (and who doesn't love a good buffet, right?). You've got a wide array of options laid out before you. Some might look tempting, while others might leave you scratching your head. My advice? Try a bit of everything! Just like at the buffet, you won't know what your absolute favorite is until you've sampled a little bit of everything.

Don't feel pressured to settle for the first dish that comes your way. Explore different career opportunities, experiment with various roles, and indulge in your passions. If you're passionate about something, even if it seems unconventional, go for it

Remember, your future is a canvas, and your career is the vibrant palette you use to paint your masterpiece. Oh, and remember to strike a balance between work and play. Life isn't all about the hustle and grind.

Take time to savor the sweet moments, laugh with friends, and cherish the love of your future spouse. They'll be your biggest cheerleader on this journey, and together, you'll conquer any challenge that comes your way.

Take care love!

- ✪✪✪ -

💌 Pile 1

I see you often doubting your abilities and second-guessing your decisions. When you're faced with challenges or new opportunities, you tend to retreat into your comfort zone to avoid the discomfort of failure or rejection.

My advice to you is this: Embrace the discomfort. Step outside of your comfort zone intentionally, even when it scares you. It's in those moments of vulnerability that you can truly learn and grow. Remember, making mistakes is not a sign of weakness; it's a sign of courage and the path to improvement.

When faced with challenges, don't shy away. Confront them head-on, for it is through adversity that you discover your true strength. Embrace your flaws and imperfections, for they are what make you uniquely you. They hold the seeds of your growth and evolution.

Do not suppress your emotions; they are your compass. Feel them deeply, both the joy and the pain. They offer valuable insights into your desires, fears, and aspirations. Learn from them and allow them to guide your decisions.

Embrace your darkness, for it holds the potential for profound transformation. It is not something to be feared, but a wellspring of untapped creativity and power.

Remember, you are a mosaic of light and shadow, embrace both.

💌 Pile 2

When you hear that inner voice saying, "I can't do it" or "I'm not good enough," that's me. My advice is to confront those thoughts head-on.

First and foremost, remember that your thoughts are not necessarily facts. They are products of your perception and past experiences. Start by analyzing the evidence for and against these self-doubts. Ask yourself, "What proof do I have that I can't do it?" You might be surprised to find that many of your fears are based on assumptions rather than concrete evidence.

Furthermore, consider reframing your self-talk. Instead of saying, "I can't," try saying, "I can, but it might be challenging," or "I can, with effort and practice." This shift in perspective can empower you to approach tasks with a growth mindset, recognizing that even failures and setbacks are opportunities for learning and improvement.

Embrace challenges as opportunities to prove me wrong. Remember that growth often occurs outside your comfort zone. Taking calculated risks, setting ambitious goals, and pushing your boundaries are all ways to demonstrate your capabilities. Each small victory, each obstacle overcome, is a testament to your potential.

Seeking support and encouragement from others is not wrong or bad. Share your aspirations and fears with trusted friends, mentors, or therapists. They can provide valuable perspectives, guidance, and motivation during your journey of self-discovery and personal growth.

Analyse your doubts, reframe your self-talk, embrace challenges, and seek support. By doing so, you can prove your shadow self wrong and unlock your full potential.

💌 Pile 3

When haunting memories of past mistakes and regrets resurface, don't let them consume you. Rather than dwelling on the pain of the past, reflect on what each experience has taught you. Every misstep and error holds within its valuable lessons. Reflect on what you've learned from these experiences, for they have shaped you into the person you are today.

Forgiveness, both of yourself and others, can be liberating. It allows you to release the emotional burdens that may be holding you back and opens the door to personal growth and healing.

Finally, those impulses and desires that occasionally surge within you are not to be ignored or suppressed. Instead, explore their origins and motivations. Sometimes, these desires reveal untapped passions and dreams that are yearning for your attention. By embracing and understanding them, you can find ways to channel them positively, enriching your life in unexpected ways.

I am here to challenge you to become a more authentic and whole version of yourself. They are not reckless impulses but signposts pointing to unfulfilled potential.

By acknowledging and channeling these desires constructively, you can embark on a transformative journey toward a more fulfilling and authentic life.

- ✪✪✪ -

💌 Pile 1

You've been positively shining lately, and we couldn't be prouder.

It's like watching a shooting star streak across the sky – you're constantly surprising us with your brilliance and leaving us in awe. From acing your exams to that recent project you tackled with gusto, you're proving to the world that you're a force to be reckoned with.

But you know what we love even more than your accomplishments? It's your zest for life and the twinkle in your eye as you chase your dreams. Remember, life is not just about reaching destinations; it's about enjoying every twist and turn of the journey.

So, keep reaching for the stars, our little superstar! We have no doubt that you'll continue to amaze us and everyone around you. Just promise us one thing – never lose that playful spirit and infectious enthusiasm that makes you who you are.

We love you more than words can express, and we can't wait to see where your next adventure takes you. Congratulations, and keep on. You're not just making us proud; you're making the whole family proud!

💌 Pile 2

We hope this letter finds you well and wrapped in the warmth of our love, even if from afar. There are words we've been carrying in our hearts, words that need to find their way to you.

We want to tell you how very sorry we are for any moments of pain, frustration, or disappointment we may have caused you in the course of your life. As parents, we've made mistakes, stumbled along the way, and at times, failed to truly understand your perspective.

We want you to know that our love for you is immeasurable, and it is in the shadow of that love that we can identify and acknowledge our shortcomings. We recognize that there were moments when we should have listened more, when we should have supported your dreams more enthusiastically, and when we should have been a more constant presence in your life.

Please understand that our actions were never intended to cause you harm. We were navigating the complexities of parenthood the best we knew how, often learning as we went along. Sometimes, our fears and insecurities clouded our judgment, and for that, we are deeply sorry.

Our love for you, though, has always been unwavering, a beacon of hope and pride. Watching you grow, accomplish, and become the remarkable person you are today fills us with indescribable joy. Your kindness, intelligence, and strength are a testament to your character, and we couldn't be prouder.

We hope you can find it in your heart to forgive us for any past missteps. Our wish is that we can move forward with a renewed sense of understanding, compassion, and love between us.

We're here to support you in all your endeavors, to listen when you need an ear, and to be the parents you truly deserve. With a love that will never die,

🩷

💌 Pile 3

You are a cherished part of our lives, and nothing will ever change that. We wanted to share some feelings with you because we believe in open and honest communication. Recently, there have been moments when we felt a slight sense of disappointment in some of your choices and actions.

Please understand that this disappointment does not diminish our love for you, nor does it define our overall view of you as a person. We apologize for feeling this way, as we recognize that no one is perfect, and everyone makes mistakes. Our expectations might have been too high, and we realize that it's important for us to accept you as you are, with your unique strengths and flaws.

Our intention in sharing this is not to make you feel guilty or burdened but to foster understanding and growth within our family. We believe that through open conversations and support, we can work through these feelings together. We hope that you can forgive us for any undue pressure we may have unintentionally placed on you.

Remember, our love for you is boundless and unconditional, and we are here to help and support you as you navigate life's challenges. Let's move forward together, learning from our experiences, and growing as individuals and as a family.

- ✪✪✪ -

#pick a card reading #pac #daily tarot #tarot reading #tarot readings #tarotcommunity #tarot cards #tarotblr #tarot #intuitive #intuition #intuitive readings #pick a card #pick a pile #tarot witch #tarot deck #psychic

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lovebugism · 7 months

Note

for your fall prompts! what about “why are your hands so cold?” with the love of my life, steve harrington?

autumn, my love! ty for requesting! i hope you like it!! — steve makes fun of your cold hands but only as an excuse to hold them (mutual pining, friends to lovers, 2k)

fictober (㇏(•̀ᵥᵥ•́)ノ)

Family Video always smells like Robin’s morning coffee, crisp autumn air, and warm nostalgia this time of year. It’s quiet and homey and liminal — as orange as early autumn itself.

The empty store is filled with the sound of your rushed scribbling as you jot down a load of cursive nothingness in your journal. Your hand smears the wet ink across the page. It stains the paper as much as the side of your wrist.

Your other hand is curled into a fist to prop up your lolling head. Expelling your racing thoughts into the leather-back book is the only thing keeping you awake.

The stale air glows suddenly with a newfound life when a cozier, more familiar scent engulfs you — like pine, musk, and vanilla. You feel Steve’s visceral warmth surrounding you. Before you can blush about the unexpected proximity, he snatches your journal out from under you.

“Hey!” you shout before you mean to, perhaps the loudest he’s ever heard you.

“What’s this?” this beautiful boy muses, honey eyes sparkling. The dull store blooms with its radiance. You can’t believe he’s looking at you with it and with his rosy, lopsided grin.

“Give it back,” you demand, quieter now and smiling wider.

Steve meets your playfully arched brow with a sunny grin. He thumbs through your journal with golden hands from a leftover summer tan. His biceps are all but bursting from his vest and too-tight polo.

“Keith said you’re not allowed to write in your diary on the clock, you know?” he reminds with a feigned seriousness, scrunching his nose when his twinkling eyes flit back to yours.

Keith did actually say that. A few days ago now. He also said he’d dock your pay if he caught you doing it again, the absolute asshole.

“It’s not a diary!” you argue with a beam on your face.

You briefly wonder if you’re smiling a little too wide, and the fleeting thought makes the bright expression flicker.

You cross your arms over your chest and pretend to be more serious. Something about Steve stirs a deep sensuality in you, though — like a wolf innately drawn to a full moon. The corners of your lips quirk with an emotion you couldn’t conceal if you tried.

“I’ll be the judge of that,” he singsongs with raised brows.

Strands of honey hair hang over his wrinkled forehead when he turns to the book in his hands. He swipes his fingers through them to push them back again, but they fall into place a second later.

You’re too enamored by the boy in front of you to stop him when he starts flipping through your notebook. You know he knows it isn’t a diary. You also know he wouldn’t be going through it if it were. He’s too nice for that. Too sweet on you, anyway.

He finds a random page and lingers there. His eyes flit over every inch of the ink you’ve scribbled inside — miscellaneous lists, doodles, and song lyrics. He figures it must be the music you’re humming all the time, tunes you can’t get out of your head.

Every time I see you, all the rays of the sun are streaming through the waves of your hair, the words read in clumsy cursive. And every star in the sky is taking aim at your eyes like a spotlight. The beating of my heart is a drum, and it’s lost, and it’s looking for a rhythm like you—

Steve’s heart flutters. He feels like a kid again. His stomach swirls with the thought that you might’ve been thinking about him in between the lyrics. It’s as unlikely as it is childish. He knows this, so he frowns.

“Oh,” he monotones playfully, brows pinching and lips jutting. “That’s boring.”

“Exactly. So give it back—” You reach for the book, but Steve’s too quick. He jerks it out of your reach and leaves your hand grabbing at air.

“Ooh, sorry, sunshine,” Steve lilts. “Looks like you’re not tall enough for this ride.”

Your cheeks speckle with heat. You wonder if he’s flirting or if he’s just being friendly, and you’re too in love to know the difference. Your terribly hidden smile is wide and impossibly giddy, anyway.

“Steve,” you bite, though it comes out much happier than you intended it to. “Give it back.”

He purses his lips to the side and furrows his brows. “Hmm… No.”

Your smile broadens, and your eyes widen at his blatant defiance. You giggle like a child as you walk the short distance towards him. “Give it back,” you laugh and stand on the tips of your toes in front of him.

He chuckles boyishly in return and lifts it further out of your reach.

You jump slightly off the ground to grab it. You fail the first time and try harder the second. You just narrowly miss it. The tips of your fingers brush his wrist as your torso presses too intently against his ribcage.

Your chest scrapes his vest and jostles his Hi, I’m Steve name tag. You stumble back in mortification.

With a red-hot face and a gaping gaze, you try to stammer out an apology. Nothing comes out. Your mouth opens and shuts like a fish as you pull the hem of your sweater down from where it had ridden up.

Steve has his own look of bewilderment. His honey eyes are aglow with something short of amusement. You’re briefly worried he’s about to mock you until he starts to laugh. “Why are your hands so cold?” he wonders with squinted eyes.

Your stutter hasn’t quite left you. “I— I don’t know. My hands are always cold.”

You curl your fists into the sleeves of your sweater on instinct. If only to hide how they shake for him.

“But that’s like… ice cold,” Steve insists, crooked smile widening. “Like, we live in Antarctica cold.”

Less embarrassed and more playful, you roll your eyes and turn away from him. “Okay…” you mumble under your breath as you sit back down in your chair. Steve can’t stand you being too far away, so he follows you.

“Like, you just got done shoveling snow with your bare hands cold. Like—”

“I get it, Steve. I’m a freak of nature,” you concede, spinning in your swivel chair to face him again.

He’s much closer than you expect him to be. His long legs are all but inches from your knees as he stands before you. You flush but smirk up at him in attempts to keep cool about how fervently he makes you tremble.

“I’m just teasing,” he assures with a pretty laugh.

You already knew that, though. He’s too kind to be mean. He’s a dumbass sometimes, but he always means well.

“Here, look,” he starts, laying your journal back on the counter with a quiet thud. “Let me make it up to you, yeah?”

Your brows pinch. “What do you mean?”

You find out a second later when he turns back to you and takes your hands in his larger ones.

His fingers are long and golden as they curl around your knuckles. His palms aren’t soft, but they aren’t rough either — like they’ve been used, but not too ardently. And he’s warm. He’s oh, so warm.

You tense at the sudden action but relax a second later, melting into him like you’ve always been destined to.

“Oh…”

“Right?” Steve nods with raised brows and quirked lips. “I’m practically a space heater.”

Your heart’s fluttering too aggressively to stutter out an intelligible sentence, so you just nod back at him. “Yeah…”

It makes a little too much sense that the ray of sunlight that always calls you Sunshine feels so golden warm.

Steve gives your hands a squeeze. “See? You’re getting warmer already.”

He doesn’t know it’s because you’re blushing so intensely you feel like your entire body has been set on fire. You’re happy to let him keep on not knowing.

“Thanks, Stevie…” you murmur quietly, gaze trained on your entwined hands.

“Stevie?” he chuckles.

Your eyes dart up to his sparkling ones, and you freeze. You hadn’t meant to call him that. That nickname was usually reserved for your too-elaborate daydreams. “Oh. Shit. Sorry. It just— It just slipped. I’m sorry.”

“No. No, it’s okay,” Steve assures with the shake of his head, giving you another reassuring squeeze. “Seriously. I liked it.”

You exhale a nervous laugh through your nose, ducking your gaze away from his. “You always hate when Robin calls you that…”

“Well, yeah. ‘Cause she’s Robin.”

Your laugh is more genuine this time.

“And it sounds a lot prettier when you say it, anyway.”

He must notice how hard he’s making you blush with how warm your hands have gotten — from frozen solid to fiery hot. But he holds them, anyway. Even when they get all clammy. You want it to mean more than it probably does.

“Yeah?” you press, peering up at him through your lashes.

“Yeah,” he nods like it’s obvious, then gets as sheepish as you a moment later. He tries to act cool through his shyness, tilting his head and shrugging as he smirks. “How about you call me that tonight?”

Your eyes go wide at the unintended insinuation.

His gape matches your own when his own words dawn on him. “I meant at dinner!” he follows quickly. “At Enzo’s. Seven o’clock. You know, if— if you wanna go with me or whatever.”

You do. Most desperately so. In fact, you’re pretty sure you dreamt about it one time. Maybe you’ll tell him that if you’re brave enough — over pasta and breadsticks.

“I don’t have a car,” you confess with a forced laugh. “Or a pretty dress…”

“I can pick you up!” Steve assures immediately, then grows visibly shier. He shifts his weight on his feet but doesn’t try to let go of your hands. It feels too right to hold them. “And, you know, I’m sure you’ll look nice in whatever you decide to wear, sunshine.”

You purse your lips to the side as you nod, lest your beam blinds him and makes your cheeks burst.

“Okay… Enzo’s. Seven o’clock,” you repeat quietly.

“I pick you up,” he says, squeezing your hands.

You squeeze him back. “You pick me up.”

“And we spend an hour eating breadsticks and making fun of all the wine snobs.”

The imagery makes your stomach swirl, a dream so real you can taste it — red wine and garlic and cherry chapstick.

“Sounds like a plan,” you affirm with a sheepish giggle.

He nods, having no idea he’s grinning like a lovesick idiot down at you. “Cool.”

“Cool,” you repeat.

You watch his tongue dart out to wet his bottom lip. For a fleeting moment, you think he might kiss you. You want him to kiss you. You might melt at his feet if he did, but you need it like you need air.

Ding!

The door chimes at the front of the store.

Autumn air rushes in, leaving you bitterly cold all over again. Or maybe that’s just because Steve’s stepping away from you. Both of you know that Keith will have a fit if a customer complains about PDA.

“Hi! Welcome in! Can I help you find anything?” Steve greets as kindly as always, smiling just the same.

He only says it because he has to say it. He’s secretly hoping for a negative response, just so he can keep on talking to you.

The man in big work boots and a thick canvas jacket squints around the store. He rubs his scruffy face with a hardened hand and turns to Steve. “Yeah, actually,” he says in a gruff, gravely voice. “I was looking for this movie for my wife. It’s her birthday and…”

He rambles on about her favorite movie, a cartoon from her childhood he’s gone two towns over to find. It’s sweet enough to give you butterflies, though it doesn’t match the zoo that erupts in your stomach when Steve turns to look at you again.

He departs from you with a honey gaze. You smile back at him as he goes, watching him intently as he helps the customer with a pretty pink smile.

Your hands are cold again. So much that they ache with you curl them into fists.

You can’t wait for Steve to hold you again tonight. Over a white-clothed table, warm yellow candlelight, and wine-slicked lips.

Enzo’s. Seven o’clock.

#published by bug #steve harrington x reader #stranger things x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fic #stranger things #steve harrington #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fluff #stevie dabble #st drabbles #event: fictober!

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teyamloving12 · 1 year

Note

a request for an angsty neteyam fic … like…

ur neteyam’s mate and he saw you get hurt during a hunt to the point of comatose and he’s just there every day waiting u to wake up

Wake up for Me

Warning: angst, SFW, mentions of blood, crying, near to death.

Pairing: Neteyam x F!Reader

"Are you sure you want to come with me on this hunt, ma tìyawn?", Neteyam answered for the fourth time. It was too late to turn back since you already made your mind. You were going to that hunt and not even Eywa herself could stop you. You were well-trained and Neteyam taught you a few things so you would be alright.

You landed and Neteyam helped you off your ikran. He place a kiss on your forehead. " Be careful. There are a lot of viperwolves in this area and remember that there is-", he started to explain until you cut him off. "There is no way to confront a viperwolf except running away and avoiding it. I know, Neteyam!", you said. He shakes his head and kissed you one last time before leaving to a different area.

The forest is beautiful yet so dangerous. You were stuck in your thoughts until you hear rustling. You aimed your arrow at the noise. A viperwolf emerged from the bushes. Survivor's instinct kicked in and you immediately ran towards the tallest tree you could find to climb in. But it was fast, it bit you into your leg harshly tossed to the side. But you were no coward, you were a warrior at heart. You aimed your arrow at its weak spot, the eyes. It roars in pain and fell to the ground. It was dead. The wound was deep, you tried to make your body stay awake until someone found you but fainted on the spot.

Meanwhile, Neteyam came looking for you, he was fine until he saw a blood trail. He began to panic. Where the hell were you? You weren't hurt...right? Neteyam tried to convince himself that you were fine but Eywa had other plans. He saw the dead viperwolf and a body a few meters away from it. His heart dropped. "

Ma syulang, wake up!", no response from you. He checked if you had a pulse. He heard tge beautiful sound of your heartbeat and he was happy. He shaked you but your entre body was limp almost unresponsive. You took out the viperwolf but you yourself was at the risk of dying from massive blood loss. He immediately picked you up bridal style, placed you on his ikran and took yours to follow behind him. Jake went to greet his son but Neteyam pushes him out. " It is Y/n , she was attacked by a viperwolf and she lost a lot of blood and... she is not responding!", Neteyam rambled to his father.

"Quickly carry her to your grandmother!", Jake was worried for his sob and his daughter in law. She was the only woman in the village that Neteyam truly loved and would die for. If you died now, Neteyam might as well as join you.

Mo'at examined the wound as Neteyam paced around the room panicked by this situation. " What is wrong with her?", Neteyam asked for the fourth time in a row. Mo'at sighed mournfully and stared into her grandson's eyes and looking back at your body.

"She is not gone but she is unconscious." Which will last for Eywa knows how long. He fell to his knees looking at you so peaceful but yet you can slip away at any moment of the night. He placed a kiss on your forehead, praying to Eywa she would not take his mate away from him. He placed your head in your lap gently, putting his back to the wall.

Tears ran down his face like rivers. They just would not stop. Only if he finished on time, he truly was an ' disappointment '. He watched as the moon stood proudly in the sky, how the stars suddenly faded away when the mighty sun took over the sun. His eyes were red and puffy from crying and the lack of sleep. He wasn't going away until you woke up.

Kiri came to visit only to see her brother in such a such a bad state. She decided to give him some space as he snapped when anyone asked of his mate. He was determined. You will wake up.

He watched the moon rise again and the stars spark in the Sky. It was so beautiful He knew you would have loved this view. Sleep tries to conquer him but he will not lose. For every second counts. Neteyam refused to eat or drink until you were awake.

It was his fault and maybe he was on time, you would have been safe and awake. His tears fell on your face and reality hit him. You weren't gonna wake up any time soon

#neteyam x reader angst #neteyam angst #aonung x reader #neteyam smut #neteyam x na'vi!reader #neteyam x reader #neteyam x you #aonung smut #avatar smut #neteyam #neteyam x y/n #neteyam x reader smut #atwow ao'nung #loak headcanons

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onlymvr · 1 year

Text

Tension | Jake Sully x (Na’vi) fem!Reader [one-shot]

Summary: You had enough of Jakes shit so you decide to do something about it. You weren’t prepared for the outcome….

Warnings: sixty-nine that shit, slight hair pulling, dom jake, fingering, choking, some name calling, over-stimulation, lil praises here and there yadda yadda yadaa

Note: So this is my first ever smutty one-shot i’ve ever written so bare w me guys. Hope y’all like it🙏also i was too tired to read over it so if u see some spelling errors…. no u didn’t

You couldn't sleep. Again.

You were consumed by thoughts of that one irritating and arrogant man. Jake sully. Despite your efforts to push him out of your mind, you found yourself dwelling on every encounter and interaction you ever had. You were filled with a mix of emotions - anger, frustration, and even a strange sense of longing - that kept you awake and restless throughout the night. It was as if your hatred for him only served to fuel your obsession with him, making it impossible for you to find peace and fall into a deep, restful sleep.

As you walked further through the forest, you couldn't help but notice all the ripe berries that were scattered along the path that lead to a few bushes in front of you. Your mouth watered. Making the decision, you decided to pick and gather a hefty amount and placed it gently on a large leaf. The crisp, refreshing taste of the berries helped clear your mind and soothe your restless spirit, making you feel more at peace and at ease.

“Man these are so good”, you smiled stuffing your mouth with the sweet yet tart fruit.

As you kept walking, you came across a babbling stream and decided to sit by its banks to rest and enjoy your berries. You found a comfortable spot on the soft grass, settling down and gazing up at the night sky as you ate. The stars twinkled brightly above you, casting a magical glow over the scene and the light of the moon reflecting on the blue stream. The peaceful sound of the water rushing by and the soothing darkness of the night made you feel calm and content, as if all your troubles had melted away. As if he melted away. You sat there for a while, savoring the simple pleasures of nature and letting go of your worries.

As you sat comfortably by the stream, your thoughts inevitably turned to that annoying man. You couldn't help but think about him and all the ways in which he had wronged you. You couldn't shake the feeling of confusion and frustration as you wondered why the man you despise seems to harbor such intense feelings of dislike towards you. You had never done anything to wrong him, and yet he seemed to go out of his way to make your life difficult. It was a mystery that plagued you, causing you to lose sleep and spend countless hours trying to make sense of it all. But at the back of your mind you couldn’t help but wander to more sinful thoughts about Jake. Sure, you cant stand him but god he is very, VERY attractive. You imagined all the ways in which he could take you and use him as his own fuck toy. The way he would touch you, taste you, hold you and don’t even get me started on how long and thick his dic-

*CRACK*

The sound of a twig snapping within your eyesight interrupted your thoughts. Great what now. You quickly picked up your bow, straightened your back, and squinted aiming at your target in front of you, preparing yourself to whatever or whoever was going to appear in front of your eyes. But boy were you so fucking wrong.

The next few minutes of intense waiting, you were about to lower your bow but what appeared in front of you was not what you expected.

You turned to see a tall, fit man emerging from the trees, his muscular frame and chiseled features making your heart skip a beat. He walked with confidence and grace, a shadow covering his piercing gaze that fixed on you as you couldn't help but feel a surge of attraction towards him, and you couldn't shake the feeling that you knew him from somewhere. As he drew closer, it hit you. it’s Jake. Oh fuck me.

“You weren’t gonna shoot me with that were you”, Jake grunts, pointing at the now lowered bow resting on your lap. his gaze slowly looking up and down at you, taking his time to savour your appearance.

Your body grows hot, his toned chest and the bulge of his muscles practically flexing up in your face. The long veins running up his big arms down to the length of those fingers. God those fingers.

You blink out of the trance and roll your eyes, shaking your head at him while returning your vision back at the stream in front of you.

Oh how your night could get any better.

With no time for you to register, he sat himself down beside you, grabbing the leaf full of berries and plopping each one in his mouth, savouring it. He turned to look at you, settling the leaf by his abdomen with a sly smirk you just wanna smack the hell out of.

You looked at him with disgust. Who the fuck does this guy think he is. He invades MY space, interrupting MY peace, and takes MY berries.

“Do you fucking mind”, you look at him in disbelief, snatching the berries away from his grasp, leaving him with an annoyed look. “They’re mine dumbass”

He pokes his tongue on the side of his cheek and lets out a low chuckle. “Damn, don’t have to act like such a bitch about it.” he turns, fixing his gaze on the stream, clenching his jaw. Hard.

Oh he did not. did he jus-

No breathe. Don’t let him get to you. It’s just a word. He didn’t mean it. Don’t waste your time on him. Just don’t. Breathe, Breathe, Breathe.

As you calmed yourself down, you thought how bad could it get? At this point you’re just tired and sick of his shit. You placed the leaf between both of you, nudging his shoulder to look down.

He looked at you, and down at the leaf. He searched for any expression on your face but there was none. You reached down for a berry and plopped it in your mouth, raising your brows at him.

He scoffed, extending his long legs out, placing the palm of his hands on the grass, looking up at the night sky.

That was it for you. You couldn’t understand why this guy had to be so fucking stubborn. You did nothing wrong to him, why is he acting this way towards you? it’s like he could never be pleased. You had to speak up, you had enough of his shit.

“you know what, I don’t know what the fuck is so far up your ass that you can’t show at least an ounce of respect. I’m always trying to be nice towards you but you alwa-“

You were cut off by him standing up swiftly, looking down at you with furrowed brows and a clenched jaw. He stands tall, looming over you, his eyes turning dark, scanning your face with his piercing gaze. A feeling of want struck through your body that made your body shiver at the sight. But you won’t back down, not this time.

“Oh i’m the one not showing respect?” he points at his chest, looking at you with disbelief. “You’re the one with all the bitchy remarks you throw around and act like you won’t get it in return, girl.” His tone getting louder, showing authority after every word.

That Nickname. That assigned word he always called you, did something to you. Ugh, you didn’t know why, but the way it would roll out of his tongue, like honey, made something surge hot in the pit of your stomach.

You wouldn’t back down, you push yourself up, trying to get to his level and match his intensity with your gaze.

“You’re the one prancing around acting like you own everyone and everything.” You spit back, getting harsher with each passing word.

He relaxes his face, tilting his head to the side, eyes getting darker after each second.

Oh fuck

The air around you gets thick with tension. No matter how hard you try, you can’t analyze the look on his face. The way you have to tilt your head back to meet his piercing gaze, sets excitement over you.

“Just shut up”. He grunts taking a step towards you slowly.

You wanted to test his limits. Getting a little bold, you let out a low chuckle, “Oh yeah? Make me.” You take a step closer, closing the gap between the both of you.

You let your eyes wander, flicking at the sweet soft curve of his lips, then back up at his eyes.

That set him off.

He pushes you towards the closest tree with his hands gripped at both of your arms. Your back hits the tree, the rough bark digging into your soft flesh, letting out a grunt. Your body grows hot and you let your head sink back into the trunk when Jake leans over, scooping his hands under your thighs and lifting you up as if you weighed like a feather.

Without warning, he whips his head forward and smashes his lips down to yours, catching you off guard. His fingers are rough, digging into the soft plush of your skin as they never relax. Well that’s gonna leave a mark. His lips are smooth, melting into the curve of your mouth as if it was made for you. He bites the bottom of your lip, making you let out a small moan, allowing him to slip his warm slick tongue into yours. He tastes of the aftermath of the sweet berries, something that’s so addicting, you want more of. You widen your mouth, allowing him more access, pushing your tongue down to his. Surprised by your actions, he lets out a small grunt from the back of his throat and tilts his head, getting more of you.

Your fingers graze his cheeks and land on the side of his head. You pull his hair back to get a different angle but was greeted by him letting out a small, whiny moan. Jackpot.

“Didn’t know you liked your hair being pulled”, you smile against his lips, panting for air, as he sucked all of it out of you.

“Stop talkin”, he grunts and seals his warm lips on yours. You comply to his words and smash your lips against his, as you couldn’t get enough of his taste. “Needy bitch” he cursed, kissing back and biting your lip only stopping to glide his hands to the back of your top, fiddling with the knot. You were about to give him a hand but was met with your top loosening, falling to the ground between the both of you.

His large, rough, veiny hands find your boobs, giving them a harsh squeeze that let a loud, sultry moan escape your lips. The way his hand covered almost your whole chest, set something afire within you, pulling his waist closer to your mound, begging for a source of contact. He smirks at you, letting your feet hit the ground gently, as he pinches and rolls your sensitive nipples along his fingers.

He takes a step back, admiring your appearance. There’s a line of saliva running down the side of your mouth, face is flustered, eyes dark filled with lust and your nipples hard as rock, displayed for only Jake’s eyes to see. He rubs his length through his loin cloth to relive some tension and your eyes follow suit. He’s practically bulging through and you can’t help but notice how long and thick it is. You gulp.

He pulls you by the back of your neck, and sets you laying down onto the soft grass beneath you. Your heart is beating out of your chest, a river practically formed between your legs and at this point you just want him to do something. Anything, fast.

He settles above you, dipping his head down and sucking at your neck hard. You’re gonna be marked up by the end of this night. He drags his fangs down to your neck, boobs, stomach and lastly settling it on top of your loin cloth. You shiver by the different kind of contact, your walls clenching at nothing as a warm pool spreads down your mound.

“Jake please” you whimper pulling his head up to meet your gaze.

“Patience, girl. I’m just getting started”, his words leave you hot with need. You can’t take it anymore. He slowly leaves sloppy kisses all around your abdomen and finally drags his fangs underneath your loin cloth, dragging it down to your feet. He tossed it somewhere beside him but that’s a problem to think about later. He spreads your legs apart, the cold air hitting your wet mound making you buckle your hips.

“You usually get this wet?” he smirks looking up at you for an answer. Your cheeks grow red, turning your face to the side, covering it with your hands, embarrassment washing over you. Jake yanks your hands and pin them above your head. “I said, do you usually get this wet?” he sterns, looking at you with a dark look. “No” you spit out.

“Good”

He leans back, setting his weight on his knees. You pick yourself up settling on your elbows, watching his next movements. He slowly unties his loincloth and drops it when his dick springs free from the fabric. His tip a dark purple already smeared with pre-cum. He’s practically rock solid. he strokes his dick slowly, maintaining eye-contact and you couldn’t help but lick your lips. His mouth parted letting out a small moan, as you took in his length. Holy fuck he’s big. A large bulging vein running down the underside of his dick as his hand pumps himself slowly.

The next moments you weren’t prepared for. Jake swiftly picks you up and positioned your thighs on the sides of his head while you faced his length in a classic yet beautiful sixty nine position.

“Look at this sloppy hole, how long has it been since you had someone take care of you?” his hot breathe fans over you making you clench over nothing before screaming when he pinched your puffy clit.

“God, Jake please, Just please” you begged, wrapping your hand around his huge cock in front of your face.

“Shhhh, you’re talking to much, let’s put that bratty mouth into good use, eh?” the hand that was gripping your thigh was lifted up to hold your neck, slowly making you lower your mouth down on him. “Atta girl, just like that, doing so good for me”. He kept holding your head, guiding your movements in a bobbing motion.

Jake’s mouth finally meets your heat. his tongue dragging up and down your folds and sucking at your puffy clit, his moans sending vibrations down your heat giving you a whole different type of pleasure. It was too good you couldn’t even focus on your task until he grabbed and smacked your ass with no hesitation.

“Deeper” he forced you lower making you gag on his cock. tears were streaming down your face as your throat was stuffed with his length. “such a good girl for me, just how I like it” he let go of your head to hold each side of your hips, inserting two long thick fingers in you while sucking at your sensitive clit at the same time.

Jakes fingers started to pump in you faster, tongue flicking and sucking your clit as if it was his last meal. His cock was so down deep into your throat you could only moan directly onto him and scratch your nails down to his thighs. The knot on your stomach not taking to long to form was rapidly spreading across you in a mind-blowing orgasm. In hope Jake would slow down, he pumped faster and casually added a third finger stretching you mid-orgasm and curling them brushing it to massage your sweet spot.

“Fuck, Jake!” you let go of his cock to scream when he kept going in faster, holding your hips in place, not allowing you to back down from the over-stimulation.

“Shut up and take it” your back arched even more when he continued to suck your clit hard. You sobbed his name but was cut off by him shoving your head down his length. you kept bobbing your head up and down and making sure to suck his tip harder. A different sensation was building up inside of you and sobbed.

“Jake i’m close-“ you screamed, tears streaming down your face.

“Me too, baby”

He pumped his three fingers into you faster, curling them in, brushing it against your g-spot, as you kept sucking and gagging down his cock, his tip hitting deep down your throat. It seemed like another climax but this one hit you harder. Your knees buckled and a hot wave went shooting down your legs and you released onto Jake’s mouth. He slurped all your juices up like a starved man and as he was, you started massaging his balls and it send him on edge. he spilled his warm load deep down your throat. You choked but swallowed all of it.

Your body goes limp against his as he picks you up and lays your back against his chest, laying down on the soft grass. Every inch of your body is sore as you were processing what just fucking happened. Jakes hot breath fans against your neck and nuzzles between your shoulder.

“You’re still a bitch you know that” he whispers against you, but you had not one ounce of energy to respond. You just smiled.

_______________________________________________

BOY WE HAD A TIME LAST NIGHTTT

lmk what y’all think?

#avatar the way of water #jake sully #jake sully x reader #oneshot #smut #jake sully smut #jakesullyissofine #domjake #Spotify

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ebongawk · 25 days

Text

wip wednesday (thursday lmao)

I was tagged by @cyraclove and @pipergirl17 (thank you both so much!!)

here's a lil snippet of the time travel AU every star in the sky (is taking aim):

What the fuck was he going to do? Driving aimlessly for a while, Eddie pulled through a McDonald’s for way too much McBreakfast before hitting the road again. Driving from one end of town to the other as he munched his way through two sandwiches before circling around and heading a different direction. North to south, then hitting east and pointing west. Except not quite. Because, at six-thirty in the morning, as Eddie ambled up Cornwallis and turned onto Randolph, he saw a strawberry blonde ponytail bobbing up and down as it walked along the side of the road. No. No fucking way.

tagging anyone who wants to play!!

#hellcheer #eddissy #eddie x chrissy #chrissy x eddie #stranger things #my writing #hellcheer fic #eddie munson #chrissy cunningham #every star in the sky (is taking aim)#wip wednesday

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shikariiin · 3 months

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Valentine's break

A Short TTTE fanfiction - Valentine Special

They haven't dated in this timeline :3, I rarely write, so excuse my rookie mistakes.

---------------------

Edward puffed his cigarette, the night wind gently blowing on his hair as the stars above him shined.

The usual valentine's night for the K2.

As he took a long drag, memories flooded back: past loves, and heartaches. He stared off to the distance, aiming fault to himself for everything that had happened, guilt slowly creeping up, his mind going numb.

Valentine's Day was not his favorite, though he'd never openly admit it.

Abruptly, his thoughts were disrupted as a red coat cascaded down upon him, enveloping him in its warmth and vibrant hue. He looked up to a familiar face.

"Mind if I join?" James spoke softly, Edward blinked slowly almost dumbfounded "ah...sure?" he finally answered.

The red man sat beside him, drinking his water bottle "wasn't expecting to find you here" James leaned back, relaxing into the grass.

"Wasn't expecting anyone to find me" Edward smiled, feeling amused, "cigarette?" He handed the half-empty box, "good god no" James immediately refused, as stressful as he gets, he would never smoke nor drink, he wasn't raised that way.

Edward only smiled before looking away, James took notice of his demeanor, "you're not going out? It's valentine's day" he asked the K2.

Edward says as he exhales smoke, "I....I've had enough of Valentine's," an answer James wasn't expecting. "Why's that?" James asks, intrigued nonetheless. Edward sighed, his gaze drifting to the distant horizon.

The weight of past disappointments heavy on his heart. "Every Valentine's Day just reminds me of what I've lost," he confesses, his voice tinged with regret. James nods understandingly, silently acknowledging the pain concealed behind Edward's tough exterior.

"what if someone asked you out? Would you go?" James asked again, his eyes not moving away from the blue haired man.

"goodness they deserved better!" Edward sheepishly laugh "I don't expect anyone to ask me out, get a better standard I'd say"

his smile subsided before looking down to his knees "Love hurts" He inhaled deeply from his cigarette.

James looked at him, having been hurt from hearing the K2 talk about himself like that, "I think you're exceptional," James murmured softly, his gaze drifting upward to the somber sky above.

"You've made alot of impact on this railway, supporting countless engines," James remarked, taking a sip from his water bottle. "you're worth a-lot more than you give yourself credit for" he smiled.

Edward glanced at him, a spark of joy igniting within him, and he couldn't help but return the smile, though a blush colored his cheeks.

"Why aren't you going out for valentine?" Edward asked back, his mood eased as he lay down next to James.

"I have high standards!" James answered vainly, he smiled proudly at himself, Earning a laugh from the K2, his endearing laugh was not of ridicule, but of amusement.

James joined in,The atmosphere shifted, filled with warmth and tenderness as both decided to spend the rest of the night together, neither wanting to leave.

"Happy valentines day, Edward"

"Happy valentines day, James"

Maybe one day they'll actually celebrate valentine together.

#SHIKA HAVENT WRITE IN 3 YEARS YALL #did the drawing in 30 minutes too so sorry for low quality work #ttte #thomas and friends #ttte edward #thomas the tank engine #ttte humanized #ttte james #ttte fanart #ttte human au #digital art #ttte 2x5 #life of a seagull #life of a seagull AU #ttte fanfic #ttte fandom #ttte fic #Author is dyslexic #happy valentine's day

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alxtiny · 7 months

Text

Game Night | Song Mingi x Reader

Synopsis: where mingi teaches you how to play valorant

Pairing: Song Mingi x gn!reader, domestic au

Genre: fluff, crack

Word count: 0.9k

Warnings: none

Notes: this one’s a little rushed but I hope y’all like it

masterlist

You glanced at the computer screen, a mixture of excitement and confusion swirling in your eyes as you stared at the colorful characters and fast-paced action of Valorant. Your boyfriend, Mingi, had been talking about this game for weeks, practically bubbling over with excitement every time a new update was released. Today, you had finally agreed to give it a try, even though you were more of a casual gamer yourself.

"Okay, so first things first," Mingi said, his deep voice full of enthusiasm as he scooted his chair closer to yours. "These are the different characters, or agents, you can choose from. Each has unique abilities."

You nodded, trying to absorb the information as he explained the basics of the game. But truth be told, you were feeling a little overwhelmed. The controls, the abilities, the maps – it was a lot to take in.

"Here, let's start with something simple," Mingi suggested, leaning over to adjust your hand on the mouse. "Move your character using the W, A, S, and D keys. Good. Now, try aiming your crosshair at that target over there. Left-click to shoot."

You followed his instructions, your shots going wide and missing the target completely. Mingi let out a chuckle, a warm sound that made you smile despite your embarrassment.

"I... I think at this rate I might end up shooting at our own teammates," you confessed, a sheepish smile tugging at your lips.

"Don't worry, it's totally normal to struggle at first," he reassured you. "Let me show you something."

Mingi's arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you gently into his lap. Your heart skipped a beat at the sudden proximity, feeling his warmth radiating against your back. He positioned his hands over yours on the mouse and keyboard, guiding your movements with a patience that amazed you.

"See? You're getting the hang of it," he said, his breath tickling your ear as he leaned in to offer guidance. "Now, let's try using one of your agent's abilities."

As he explained the unique abilities of your chosen agent, his deft fingers danced over the keyboard, demonstrating the combinations you needed to use. With each passing moment, you felt your confidence growing. Maybe this game wasn't so intimidating after all.

Time flew by as the two of you played round after round, the evening melted into the night, stars coming out and lighting the sky. You went from struggling to shoot a target to actually getting kills in the game. Mingi's encouragement and guidance were instrumental in your progress, and you were having a blast despite the occasional frustration.

Surprisingly, after a few more rounds, something incredible happened – you managed to beat Mingi in a one-on-one duel. Your character's shot hit him right on target, and the announcer declared you the winner.

You let out a triumphant cheer, unable to contain your excitement. Mingi sat there with a stunned expression, a mix of disbelief and a playful pout gracing his lips. He looked like a kicked puppy, and you couldn't help but burst into laughter at his reaction.

"Hey, no fair!" he protested, his pout deepening as he crossed his arms mockingly. "I've been playing this game for months, and you beat me in one night?"

You leaned over, planting a soft kiss on his cheek. "It's just beginner's luck, Mingi. Plus, I had an amazing teacher."

He let out a dramatic sigh, still maintaining the pout. "It took me so long to learn and be good at this game, and you just come along and steal my victory."

You grinned, cupping his cheeks and turning his face toward you. "Well, you know what they say about student surpassing the master, right?"

He huffed, but his pout was slowly turning into a smile. "Is that so?"

You leaned in, your lips brushing against his in a sweet, tender kiss. "Don't worry, Mingi. I might have beaten you in a game, but you're still the best teacher and the most amazing boyfriend."

His pout finally gave way to a smile, and he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a warm hug. "You're too good for me, you know that?"

You laughed, nuzzling into his chest. "And you're too silly for words."

His smile widened, and a mischievous glint sparkled in his eyes. "Oh, is that so? Well, if I'm so silly…"

Before you could react, he started to tickle you mercilessly, his fingers floating over your sides and under your arms. Laughter erupted from your lips as you squirmed in his lap, trying to escape his playful onslaught.

"Okay, okay, I give up!" you gasped between giggles, breathless from the tickling.

Mingi finally relented, a triumphant grin on his face. "That's what I thought. No one can out-silly me."

You rolled your eyes affectionately, your heart full of warmth and love for this playful and wonderful man, as you snuggled deeper into his embrace.

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DISCLAIMER: THIS IS PURE FICTION AND NOT RELATED TO THE MEMBERS OF ATEEZ IN REAL LIFE PLEASE DO NOT TAKE IT SERIOUSLY

Taglist: @sushi0517

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casual-tarot · 1 year

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Pick a Pile: What your friends love about you

Pile 1

You're an optimist! You see the good in just about every situation and you see the endless possibilities ahead of you. You're not one to back down just because the going gets tough. If you get beat down by life, you always bounce back up. Your friends admire this about you, they wish they could have your optimism, could see the world from your eyes. You're also an incredibly and creative person. You're dream job may include being a creative in some way; music, art, photography, writing, etc. Your friends love your creations and are inspired by them. You are a very generous person as well, if someone needs your help, you won't hesitate to do what you can. You Love helping people if you're able to. And that's the thing, you know when to pull back and away from things. If you need time to think or to heal, you pull back and spend time alone to rejuvenate. You won't overextend yourself and that makes people admire you. You might also be a healer, a good one at that. You help lift people up without straining yourself. You welcome help from others and pat them on the back for a job well done. Inspiring!

Lucky Colors and Numbers; Shades of Orange, Shades of Pink, Fuchsia, Hot pink, White, Green, Light Shades of Blue, 5, 9, 19, 22, 48, 55, 74

Signs, Symbols, and Phrases; Skunks, Spiders, Foxes, Arctic Foxes, Flowers, Pink Flowers, Snow, Webs, The Moon, New Moon, The Night Sky, Stars, The Galaxy, Uranus, Mars, Wine and Wine Glasses, Leo, Scorpio, Pisces, 2, 22, 9, 3, 33, 12, 99

Some Advice: Spend some time with friends. Hone in on your creativity, make something new. Take a break, go on vacation if you can, maybe somewhere with a beach or a lake, maybe you can even surf a little bit. Focus on some of your hobbies, enjoy yourself. Focus on self love, though I get the feeling that you're already doing that. Buy some new clothes and/or accessories. Honestly your doing pretty well for yourself and I don't feel like I need to give you much advice, it seems you k ow perfectly well how to take care of yourself. Good for you!

Pile 2

You are kind and extremely loyal. Your friends feel like they can trust you with just about everything. You always stand with them to help make the best decisions they can, and you always lift them up. You're very supportive and your friends are incredibly thankful for that. You're very intuitive and you tend to trust your gut. Your friends admire this because your gut is usually correct. You're very good at picking up on vibes and will clock a bad person as soon as you meet them. Sometimes you get overwhelmed with priorities going on in your life, but you always take a step back and let yourself breath. As soon as you realize you're stressed, you stop and think. You plan and map things out, and you make sure to add some leisure time in there as well(although I think you could stand to take a bit more time for yourself). You refuse to let things overwhelm you, too stubborn to let things really pile up. You're friends admire your drive, and wish they could hold that same ambition. You seem to be well connected to people. Maybe you know a lot of people and are good friends with most of them, or maybe you only know a handful that you have an extremely close bond with. Either way, you are well liked and people feel like they can talk to you about anything, even if you just met. You aren't very judgmental, you tend to see everyone's point of view, even if you don't agree with them. You're friends wish they had that same optimistic view in people. You don't focus on the bad things happening in life, you take it in stride with grace. You aim for success, you're ambitious but not in a way where you let it consume you. You are very healthy about taking breaks. Your friends really admire that one lol. You seem like a very compassionate person, you're friends are very thankful for that.

Lucky Colors and Numbers; Light plum, Whites, Lighter Purples, Light Browns, Beige, Caramel Browns, Coffee Stained Browns, Shades on the Spectrum of Light Orange to Hot Pink, Gray's, Light and Pastel Pinks, 10, 8, 99, 48, 22

Signs, Symbols, and Phrases; Whales, Butterflies(especially purple ones), Peacock's(especially males), Ants(especially if they're lined up), Snakes, Seals, Hawk's, Turkey Vultures, New Moon, Waxing Crescent Moon, The Moon as a Whole(Especially Crescent), Uranus, Venus, Neptune, Scorpio, Aquarius, Capricorn, Aries, Taurus, Fire and Flames, Fire signs, Plants, Sprouts, Earth signs, Farming, Wine and Wine Glasses, 10, 6, 12, 3, 9, 2, 4, 22, 33, 7, 77, 66, 1

Some Advice: You may have a hard time listening to friends. Whether that be because you're too busy or focused on your own problems or because they sometimes bring you down, it's good to take a moment to sit down and listen to them. Lend an ear. That being said, don't over extend yourself, I'm not saying to go way out of your way to comfort someone. If you don't have the time or mental strength, don't force it. But it is definitely a good reminder for you to check in on your friends and see how they're doing. I think you have a lot of good karma, and it's coming back your way. All that good you put out into the world if finally coming back to you, good things in your future! I'm getting the vibe that some of you don't think you deserve good karma or didn't do enough good deserve it, but rest assured you did do good. You deserve all the good things coming your way, even if you don't believe it. It doesn't matter if you think you deserve it or not, the universe knows and is sending back your good karma like punch to the face haha.

Pile 3

Immediately getting the vibe that you're adventurous. You like to have fun and chill out. Maybe a night owl? You love going out with friends. You may be the type to buy the next round of drinks if you're able to. Your friends just think you're an overall cool person to hang out with. Rarely do they think of going somewhere without you. You are a strong, confident person. Someone who isn't afraid to stand up for a friend or to send back an order you know is wrong. But you're also kind, in a loud energetic sort of way. If you watch anime, think of those beefy sunshine characters(like kirishima or goku) that are always smiling and yelling, thats the vibe I get from you haha. You have a critical eye, maybe a good sense of intuition, you know the perfect path to take to get what you want. This applies with people, places, and even events. Your friends trust you make the right call in a lot of things. You seem like a leader, it might never be said but you might be the one introduce your friends to new places and experiences. Your friends really look up to you. You're not one to look back at "what ifs," you make your decisions and continue forward assured, knowing you made the right choice at that moment. You know you can't change the past and continue on into the future, knowing it's your past that has made you into who you are today. When you make a decision, you go all in on it, confidently, even if it turns out to be "wrong" later on. You pride yourself in not dwelling on past mistakes. You are very assured of yourself, whether that be in personality, looks, your job, whatever. You know your worth in all aspects and don't let people talk down to you because of it. You are very confident in spending your money, when you go out especially. Like I said before, the type to buy a round for everyone or pay for dinner. Rest assured, you're friends don't love you because of this, they love you because of you. They don't care if you have the money to hang out because they just want you to be there. You're very generous with your close friends, and they love giving back when they can. I'm getting the sense that they love getting you gifts and paying for the check as a thank you. They see your overt generosity as charming, something they fondly roll their eyes at. They are thankful to have you as a friend.

(Note: I had a lot of trouble articulating myself with this one, maybe that's something you struggle with too. You might have so much to say in your brain but your mouth can't keep up haha. I'm hearing adhd for some of you.)

Lucky Colors and Numbers; All Shades of Purple, Peaches and Light Pinks, Salmons, Fuchsia, Dark Blue, Black, White, Light Browns and/or Beiges(especially for accessories), 74, 57, 85, 88, 14, 33, 56, 55, 32, 5, 87, 91, 911

Signs, Symbols, and Phrases; Hawk's, Snakes, Whales, Blue Whales, Mice, Sharks, Cougars, Ants, Coyotes, Spiders, Rabbits, Gray Rabbits, Salmons, Koi Fish, Dolphins, White flowers, the Sea, Waves, Mountains, Snow, Yellow flowers, Blues, Reds, Twilight, Evening Sky, Pink Sky, Webs, Stars, Koi Fish Art, Dark Purple, Dark Purple Sky with Stars, A Dark Purple Sea Glittering in the Light, Chiron, Pluto, The Sun, Mercury, North Node of the Moon, New Moon, Waxing Crescent Moon, Last Quarter Moon, Full Moon, Virgo, Aries, Pisces, Aquarius, Libra, Sagittarius, Windy Clouds, Fast Moving Clouds, Storm Clouds, Puffy Clouds, Fire and Flames, 5, 55, 555, 10, 4, 6, 1010, 1, 7, 44, 3, 33, 11, 77, 444, 333, 777, 7777, 22

Some Advice: I get the feeling that you love hanging out with friends, but remember to take some time for yourself too. Go out alone, just chill, or maybe even meet new people. Maybe take a vacation for yourself, or with a loved one, away from your group of friends and just with the people/person/pet closest to you lol. Balance your alone time with the time you spend with friends, even your extroverted side needs a break sometimes. Take a day off or stay home when you would normally go out. Watch TV, play some video games, or try something new altogether. Try out some new creative hobbies, or get back into old ones. I'm getting the vibe that you haven't been letting your creativity shine lately, let it out. Your work is perfectly balanced, what I mean by that is you can take a break. Everything is ok, they can handle a day or two without you there helping. So take a day off from work too, even if you don't think you need it. It can still help! Some of you definitely overwork, so you people especially should heed this advice. Take whatever resonates with you. I guess the major message here is basically this; take a break, take a vacation, and let yourself relax alone.

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sweetsweetjellybean · 9 months

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If Tomorrow Never Comes | Part 4 | The Reason

Summary: Trapped in the Upside Down, Steve is prepared to die alone until he finds you hurt and in need of help. Doing your best to survive while the world catches fire, is there time for one more chapter in your story?

Adapted from As The World Burns by @myeuphoricmindset

TW: FemReader, Angst, Smut WC:11038 Masterlist Here

The nights are louder than he remembers. Full of the songs of the cicadas and peepers. The occasional croak of a bullfrog or the hoot of an owl. The distance sounds of traffic from streets away. Somehow it all seems much louder than the Upside-Down. Between the booms of thunder and howls of creatures, there were hours of absolute silence. It’s been six weeks, and Steve hasn’t forgotten how the silence made him feel. Anxious and defensive, like an itch he could never scratch.

Returning to his dark empty house, the quiet is more than he can stand. It’s become routine for him to sit outside on one of the loungers, watching the last rays of gold sink beneath the treeline, waiting for the sky to cycle through the palette of sunset until darkness finally gives way to the burst of stars. The nighttime sounds calm his worries. This is home. Sitting there, he tries to remember every detail so that it can never be taken from him again. Focusing on the pattern of shadows woven across the moon, he can’t help thinking about you. Are you looking up at the same sky?

“I thought I’d find you out here,” Nancy’s voice pulls him from his thoughts as she steps out of the house from the sliding glass door. “You didn’t answer when I knocked. I hope you don’t mind. I let myself in.”

“Of course not,” Steve says, twisting to look at her over his shoulder, “Come have a seat,” he gestures to the chaise beside him.

She moves into the space between the two loungers sitting down sideways so she can face him, folding her dainty hands in her lap. “I heard you were at Dustin’s all day today.”

“I put some shingles on that spot on the roof where the tree fell. They don’t need it leaking when it rains.” Construction is underway all over town. Minor projects are getting pushed down the waitlist as tradesmen try to complete the most lucrative jobs first, so Steve has been doing what he can to help his friends and neighbors.

“Well, that was nice of you,” she comments with a smile.

“Well, if you haven’t heard, I’m a nice guy,” he says with smug charm, his lips quirking on one side, aiming to pull an incredulous laugh from her.

“I think I may have heard that somewhere before,” she giggles, rolling her eyes before continuing, “You must be hungry. Do you want to get something to eat?”

“Nah, Mrs. Henderson made pot roast. She wouldn’t let me leave until I ate two helpings.” He rubs his flat stomach, smiling. Dustin’s mom always makes him feel like family.

“How about a movie then?” she asks, hope filling her voice.

“I’m exhausted, Nance.” He reaches out, patting her hand, “It’s a nice night. Stay here with me for a while.”

“You’ve been sitting out here a lot lately.” She looks down to where his hand covers hers.

“I never realized what I had until I almost lost it,” he says, pulling away from her and looking back towards the horizon. “I like it out here. It helps me think.”

“Think about what?”

“Everything…nothing. I don’t know.” The longer he looks, the more stars come into view. Simple truths are relieved by just taking the time to look.

“You’ve been so distant.”

Her words have him turning towards her again. She’s still looking down, wrapping her arms around herself, her small hands disappearing into the sleeves of her sweater.

“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be,” he frowns, watching how she’s trying to protect herself, “Are you cold?” He sits up, unzipping his jacket and pulling it off his shoulders. “Here. Sit back.” He stands and waits for her to swing her legs onto the lounger before tucking his coat over her like a blanket.

“Thanks,” she pauses, settling into the leftover warmth, “I thought this would be our time, and I’ve hardly seen you. We haven’t… we’re barely ever alone together.”

He runs a hand through his hair before sitting sideways on the lounger, taking up her position from earlier. “I guess we haven’t,” he says, knowing he’s been neglecting her, but there’s not much left of himself to give, “Work is keeping me busy, and the kids–”

“Steve,” she cuts him off, frustrated by his excuses, “Volunteering at the shelter and doing odd jobs for free doesn’t count as work. And the kids don’t need you to babysit them anymore. Robin’s been back at Family Video for a few weeks now. She told me that Keith has called you.”

“I don’t want to go back to Family Video,” he says, looking away. He’s been over all this before with Robin. “I’m not ready.”

“I know it’s been hard. We’ve all been through so much, but Max is healing. The kids are fine. Everyone is moving on. It’s time for you to start your life.”

His mouth opens with surprise. “Nance, the kids aren’t fine. Have you seen them? Max is struggling.”

“She’s getting better.”

“Nancy, she’s blind. And it’s not just her. Haven’t you seen the way Lucas panics every time he has to leave her side, even for a few minutes?”

“Steve,” she sits up, his jacket slipping down around her waist as she swings her legs to the side, reaching across the space between them to take his hand, “Nothing you can do is gonna fix that.”

“I know that,” he mumbles, but even acknowledging it stirs his guilt.

“I think you should come with me to Boston.” her fingers tighten around his as if she can already sense his reluctance.

“Boston? For school?”

“I think you’ll really like it there. It’s smaller than Indianapolis, and there are all these great old buildings. I called Emerson, and I’ve got it all figured out. It’s not too late to get the money back from my room and board. We can get an apartment, and I can get a job on the weekends.”

“I don’t know. You’re supposed to be studying, not working,” he shakes his head, looking away, “I don’t even know what I’d do in Boston.”

“It’s a city. I’m sure you can find some job that you’d like. Anything is better than Scoops, right? Maybe you can even go to school?”

“Sure, Nance, I didn’t get in at Hawkin’s Community, but I’ll pull out that acceptance letter I got from Harvard.” his eyes roll.

“Then just be with me, Steve. Let’s try and make it work this time,” she moves her head, seeking his eyes, trying to break through the wall between them ever since he’s been back.

He swallows hard and meets her eyes. “I want to, but I can’t leave them.”

She blows out a deep breath and lets go of his hand.

“What if something happens? What if it starts again?”

“It’s not going to, Steve. It’s over,” she emphasizes, like it's something she’s explained before. “Why can’t anyone accept that?” Her question makes him realize maybe she has just not to him. He may not be the only one thinking of someone else. Steve has only seen Will a few times since he’s been home. The boy’s clothes were even looser on his slight frame, and purple skin circled his sunken eyes, and Jonathan wasn’t leaving for school in the fall.

“That’s what we thought the last time, Nance. That’s what we’ve thought every time,” he says, his voice quiet but resolved, “I need to stay until they graduate–”

“That’s three more years,” she complains.

“They need me.”

“I need you.”

“No, you don’t.” he gives her a soft smile, reaching for her again, “You never have, not even once.”

She swipes at the tears forming in her eyes before they can fall. There isn’t anything else she can say.

“Come’er,” he tugs her off her seat, pulling her into his side as he settles back onto his lounger. Her arm wraps around him as she rests her head on his chest, the worry coming off her in waves. “It’s going to be alright, he smooths his hand over her hair, “I’ll think about it, okay?”

“Okay,” she says, snuggling closer, “Just don’t take too long.”

He holds her tightly as he looks back toward the darkened sky, the endless stars glinting as brightly as the moon. He tries to imagine his life with her in Boston, sitting on the rooftop of their tiny apartment. Would the stars shine as vividly with all the city lights? Would he still be thinking of you?

“Double check for any loose nails,” Steve instructs Dustin as he climbs down the ladder, his white t-shirt covered in sweat and dirt.

“Sure thing, Dad,” Dustin says smartly as he picks up the discarded singles that Steve had tossed down from the roof and throws them into the trash barrel.

“You don’t want one of those shooting out of the lawn mower,” he points his finger at the boy before picking up a bottle of water and taking a long pull. Despite the cool nights, the heat during the day still felt oppressive, and he could feel the tenderness of a burn beginning on the back of his neck.

“You don’t want one of those shooting out of the mower,” the boy mimics in a mocking voice before adding, “What an asshole.”

“Hey!” Steve fumes, settling his hands on his hips just as Mrs. Henderson comes toddling out of the house holding two glasses of lemonade.

“Oh boys, you finished! It looks so nice,” she says, handing the boys the lemonade and stepping back to admire the view, “You two did a great job.”

“You can’t even see it from down here, Mom,” Dustin scoffs. Earning a warning glance from Steve.

“Well, I can just tell,” Claudia Henderson informs her son, “It’s going to be such a relief not to worry every time it rains,” she says, turning her attention to the other boy, “I can’t thank you enough, Steven. I know you said I couldn’t pay you but here,” she pulls some folded bills from her pocket trying to hand them to Steve.

“No, thank you, Mrs. Henderson,” Steve waves his palms in front of his chest, “The pot roast was thanks enough. It’s been a while since I had a meal like that.”

“Well, you’re welcome anytime. Isn’t that right, Dusty?” She looks for confirmation from her son. When Dustins folds his arms across his chest with a mumble of ‘son of a bitch’, her face goes red with embarrassment. She recovers quickly, smiling at Steve, “Would you like to stay tonight? I’ve got a casserole already to go in the oven.”

“Well–”

“Not tonight, Mom,” Dustin cuts in before Steve can finish, “I’m going to Gareth’s for Hellfire.”

“Dusty, We’ve talked about this. I don’t think that’s safe after everything that’s happened,” Claudia says, her fingers clutching the front of her shirt.

“Jesus Christ, Mom. Eddie’s dead. What more do you want?”

“Watch it, Henderson,” Steve says, putting his hand on Steve’s shoulder.

“Why don’t you fuck off, Steven,” Dustin says, shrugging him off.

“Dusty!“

“Excuse us,” Steve says to Mrs. Henderson as he grabs Dustin by the collar and yanks him around the corner of the house.

“Since when do you talk to your mother like that?” Steve asks the boy as he releases him against the side of the house. “I know you’ve been feeling bad since Eddie, but you need to get this attitude in check. She doesn’t deserve that, and neither does anyone else.”

“Don’t you dare say his name,” Dustin says, his voice rising in anger as he puts both hands on Steve’s chest and shoves him away. “You didn’t know him or care about him. Just do me a favor and add his name to the list of people you don’t give a shit about and forget you ever met him.”

“What are you talking about?” Steve asks, confused. “Wait. Are you mad at me?”

“Ding ding ding. Good detective work, Sherlock Holmes,” Dustin says, trying to walk away until Steve stops him, grabbing the front of his shirt.

“So help me, I may not win many fights, but I know I can kick your ass, you little shit,” he pushes Dustin back against the house. “Now tell me what’s wrong.”

“Like you care,” the boy spits, his face red with anger.

“Of course I care!” Steve yells, waving his hands. “I’m here, aren’t I?”

“Yeah, but for how long?” Dustin challenges.

“What?”

“Just until you get to play the hero again. Right, Steve?” he asks sarcastically.

“Are you kidding me, dude?” Steve asks, catching on. How can he actually think that? “That’s what this is all about because I pushed you through the gate? I did that for you. So you wouldn’t get stuck there. Someone had to stay-“

“Don’t give me that. You did it to be the hero. I begged Eddie not to go back,” Dustin yells, his voice cracking, nose beginning to run, “He just wouldn’t listen, and neither would you. I don’t need another dead friend, Steve. I need you here.”

“I am here!”

“I heard you,” he says, swiping at his eyes, “When El found you, screaming for her not to take you. You don’t know what it took to get you out. To get that gate back open. What we risked. Tell me again how much you care about us.”

“You got this all wrong. I care about you. All of you,” Steve shakes his head and pulls the boy into a reluctant hug, “I’m here now, and I’m not going anywhere, you understand?”

Dustin nods into Steve’s chest, pinching the bridge of his nose with his free hand, and Steve recognizes the gesture as his own. He clears his throat, but his voice still comes out thick with emotion. “All I thought about was getting home, man. I just couldn’t leave her behind.”

Dustin sniffs, one arm reluctantly landing on Steve’s back. “There’s one thing I don’t get, Steve. If she was so important, then where is she?”

The polished silverware slides against each other, hitting the back of the drawer with a loud clank when Steve yanks it open with more force than necessary. He pulls out a fork and retrieves the open can of SpaghettiOs before heading outside through the slider of the sunroom. The conversation with Dustin plays on a loop in his mind. It’s clear the scars that they all bear are more than skin deep. How do you rejoin a life that doesn’t belong to you anymore?

He sits on the lounger stirring the tomatoey contents of the can. It’s later than usual. The sun has long since dipped below the horizon. A light mist hangs over the pool's surface, its blue-green light brightening the dark corners of the yard. With the thick clouds obscuring the waning moon and stars, the woods surrounding the yards stay shrouded in shadows. Decisions hang over his head like a knife about to drop, hurting the people he cares about. It’s not the past that’s hard to let go. It’s the future that was never supposed to be.

“I don’t know how you can stand that stuff cold,” Hopper’s voice comes from beside Steve just as the first bite passes his lips.

“I guess it’s just a habit now,” Steve replies as Hopper eases himself down on the chair beside him, a six-pack in his hand. He pulls one from the plastic ring, handing it to Steve before taking one for himself.

“Hmm,” Hopper cracks the tab of the Schlitz and takes a loud slurp, “Habits can be hard to break.”

Hopper had been dropping by Steve’s a couple of times a week since he had been home. Steve isn’t sure if this is Hopper’s way of checking up on him or if he just wants an hour of quiet before returning to the full house he shares with Joyce. Hopper has as much on his mind as Steve. Some nights they don’t exchange more than a few words. Whatever his reasoning for stopping by, Steve welcomes the company.

“So,” Steve says after washing down a couple more mouthfuls of Spaghettios with the cold beer, “If I needed to find the address for someone outside of town, is that something you could help me with?”

Hopper’s answer comes in the form of a smug smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as he pulls a slip of paper from his breast pocket, holding it out to Steve in between two fingers.

There’s a skeptical look on Steve’s face as he takes the paper from the older man. Hopper picks up his beer, going in for another sip as Steve unfolds the note, his eyes widening.

“You’re a damn good cop. You know that, right?” Steve asks, stuffing the paper into the pocket of his jeans.

“You’re not the first one to tell me, kid,” Hopper says, settling back into his lounge and looking to the sky where the clouds have shifted and thinned. Beams of light push through the thin wisps, brightening the darkness. “Whatta ya know?” Hopper says, pulling a cigar from the same pocket, “Looks like it might be a clear night after all.”

A light breeze blows the gauzy material of your sundress around your bare legs as you walk down the street toward your apartment. As you hitch your tote higher, the sun warms your shoulders, and a smile plays at your lips. The pieces of your life always find their way together like a jigsaw puzzle without the bigger picture. Forcing them into what you want never works, but eventually, they fit, a new section more beautiful than you imagined is laid out before you.

Your eyes lift from the sidewalk as a car speeds past, Higher Love blasting out of its open windows. The notes blend with the rush of wind through the trees that line your street. One yellow leaf flutters to the ground, an unmistakable sign that the end of summer is near. You watch the car cruise down the road until it passes the stone steps of your apartment. Your stomach and heart turn somersaults when you see him sitting there watching you from behind a pair of dark avatars, a million-dollar smile gracing his handsome face. Your pulse quickens as you approach, wondering if he will always have this effect on you.

“Hi,” he says, pulling off his glasses and tucking them into the collar of his white tee just as the car turns the corner and the music fades away.

“Hi yourself,” you say, stopping in front of him. “This is a surprise.”

“I thought it was fair,” he shrugs, squinting up at you with one eye slightly closed. “We have unfinished business.” He moves his coat and an empty soda can to his other side, inviting you to join him on the steps.

Climbing a few, you sit next to him, letting the bag fall from your shoulder to rest beside you. “What’s this business?” you ask, your arms circling your knees.

He smirks in response, turning to pull something from his jacket. Returning with a cellophane packet of Twinkies in his hand. “The other pack got a little squished,” he explains as his long fingers tear open the packaging, “These are fresher. I checked the date.” He hands you one of the yellow cakes before taking the other for himself.

“Thanks,” you laugh, taking the slightly sticky treat from his hand. He brings his to his mouth but pauses, wanting to watch you take your first bite, and you oblige him. One hand hovering under your mouth to catch the crumbs as your teeth breach the soft cake. The sweetness is overwhelming you as much as his gesture. “Mmmm, that’s good,” you say with your mouth still full.

“Yeah?” He asks, smiling, taking pleasure in your reaction, at how it feels just being near you again like no time has passed.

“Mmmhmm.” Your tongue darts out, licking the filling from your lips, missing a tiny glob in the corner. Before you can make a second pass, he swipes it away with the pad of his thumb, bringing it to his mouth to taste. Behind you, the apartment door opens, and your neighbor from upstairs is maneuvering around you with a heavy box in his arms. Steve’s arm is around your waist, pulling you closer to his side, giving your neighbor more room to get by. It happens quick enough for you to feel dizzy. Five minutes ago, you didn’t think you’d see him again, and now he’s surrounding you, heat lingering like a ghost every place he touches you. The thin material of your skirt barely separates your skin from his Levi-covered legs, his mouth just inches from yours as he bites into his Twinkie.

Your hand shakes as you turn away from him to pull a bottle of water from your bag. Twisting the lid, you take a few gulps to give yourself a moment to regroup.

“Are you alright?” He eyes you with a curious expression. He knows you too well. “Is it okay that I’m here?” He asks, his voice dropping, turning serious.

“I’m always glad to see you, Steve,” you answer honestly. It’s the goodbyes that you can’t bear.

He takes a moment, looking down at the cracked sidewalk. “You look really pretty,” the corners of his mouth lift but not with charm or arrogance, with something much softer. “I mean, you’re always pretty, but when I saw you coming down the street, you looked happy. I didn’t get to see that when we were…there.”

“Thank you. So do you, but I kind of miss the axe.”

A laugh bursts from deep in his chest, “Yeah? Did that do it for you?”

“Definitely,” you giggle, nudging him with your shoulder, “Want some?” You tip your bottle towards him.

“Sure,” he takes it from you.

“It’s my new habit,” you nod toward the bottle, “I get a bit panicked if I don’t have water with me. Kinda crazy, right?”

“Nah,” he takes a sip before replacing the cap and handing it back to you, “That’s not so bad as far as habits go. It’s kind of a smart one, actually. I keep eating Chef Boyardee cold.”

“Eww.” Your nose scrunches.

“Right out of the can,” he chuckles, his fingers circling your wrist, gently pulling your arm into his lap, turning it to reveal the healing scar running down the inside of your arm. “I can’t stand the quiet at night,” he says without looking up from your arm. “I sit outside on my back deck for the noise. It’s where I think about you.” His long fingers trace the raised skin with the softest pressure. “I fall asleep out there most nights.”

“I sleep with the lights on,” you admit in a quieter voice, loving and hating how he touches you like you belong to him-like you’ll always belong to him. “And I stuff a couple of pillows behind me, so it feels like yo–like I’m not alone.”

His eyes lock with yours, and his fingers still. An ache that dulled over the past few weeks but never disappeared completely, crashes over you like a wave. You belong to him, but he’ll never be yours. Not here. Only in another world. Pulling your arm back, you wrap it back around your knees.

He frowns, sensing the shift between you, and changes the subject. “Were you coming from school?” he nods in the direction you came from.

“Oh. Um, yeah,” you say, following his eyes. The center of campus is a few blocks away from your apartment.

“Have classes started?” he asks, thinking about the answer he owes Nancy.

“No. Not for a few more weeks. I-uhh…I was changing my schedule. I’m not going to do fieldwork anymore. I’m going to teach instead. Maybe high school,” you explain.

“But you loved it,” his eyebrows pull together in a straight line.

The same expression your advisor gave you when you told him. “I know, but I can’t. Not anymore.”

His Adam’s apple bobs, an expression of guilt washing over his face.

“Hey, don’t feel bad for me. Teaching’s a good gig. Great hours. Summers off. There are worse jobs.”

“Yeah, I suppose you’re right,” he says, recovering. “You can force all those kids to listen to your bad jokes.”

“Exactly,” you laugh, squeezing your knees tighter, “What about you? Have you figured out what you want to do yet?”

“No, not yet,” his head turns away, looking down the other side street, “Nancy wants me to come with her to Boston.”

Your heart cracks open even though you knew this was coming. “So you’re together again?”

He turns, shaking his head, “No. Not really. She wants to be.”

“And what do you want?” you ask, but your heart already knows the answer.

“I don’t know,” both hands card through his thick hair, pulling on the ends, “I don’t know. It’s not that easy. The kids….Nothing makes sense to me anymore. Nothing’s made sense since the last time I was with you. That’s why I had to see you.”

“I think you know exactly what you want.” You place your hand on his knee, a gesture meant to comfort, but he takes full advantage, covering your hand with his, lacing his fingers through yours. You should pull away, but your heart pleads to take what you can. Goodbye is just on the horizon.

“You’ve loved her for so long.”

“It doesn’t feel right anymore,” he argues, leaning closer, his forehead brushing yours.

“I think,” you pause, wetting your lips, and his eyes track the movement. “I think you’ve been making decisions thinking of everyone else for so long you’ve forgotten what it’s like to choose something that will make you happy.”

“What if the right thing,” his voice has dropped to just louder than a whisper as his nose runs along your cheek, “and what I want is the same thing?”

“Steve,” your breaths are coming in shudders from deep in your chest. Tears sting behind your eyes as a cruel voice repeats from the back of your mind. He’ll never choose you.

“Can we go inside?” his lips touch yours with the barest of brushes.

His question is a jolt of ice water up your spine. You’ve indulged yourself too long. If you let him in now, tomorrow when he’s gone, you won’t recover. “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” you say, pulling back. You let your resolve steel your spine as you stand. Climbing a few steps, putting distance between you.

He stands, trying to follow. Sadness and confusion marring his pretty face. “Honey– "

You stop him with a hand held out in front of you. “All of this. Everything we’ve been through. It happened so you can get what you’ve always wanted. So she can see you. Don’t throw it away, Steve. You’re going to thank me someday.”

His mouth opens, but he can’t find the words. Stepping forward, you throw your arms around him in a hug too quick for him to return before you step back. “I’m so happy to have seen you again.” you smile, working hard to keep your tone enthusiastic, promising yourself you will not fall apart despite the pain. Not this time. “Send me a postcard from Boston, okay?” you ask, but you’re already turning away, pulling your keys from your tote, and moving to the door.

“I miss you,” he says. The pain in his voice makes you pause and close your eyes.

“I don’t think I’ve ever missed anyone before, not the way I miss you.”

“I miss you, too,” you turn back to him. You know he’s trying, but it’s not enough, not after having him. He’s still not choosing you, and you deserve someone who will, even though it’s so tempting to give in to him.

“Maybe I’ll surprise you next time,” you keep it light, “I’ll show up in Boston when I need someone to share a Twinkie. Take care of yourself, Steve,” you push your key into the lock.

“Wait. Wait, he says, waving his hands before they settle on his hips, “If you’re so sure I’m supposed to be with her, then what’s your reason? Why were you there? Why did we even meet?”

Your eyes shift to your shoes, trying to find an answer that isn’t a lie, reasoning that it’s okay to lie if it’s for his own good. “I don’t know. I’ll let you know when I figure it out.”

The lock clicks before he can say anything else, and you quickly seal yourself on the other side. You wait until you see him walking down the steps to let yourself into your apartment. Immediately dropping your bag and leaning your back against the door. Your hand moves to your stomach as you silently apologize for your lie. Pushing away, you walk through your tiny kitchen to the refrigerator. Rubbing your eyes, you refuse to let a tear fall. You won’t regret doing the right thing. Your hand wraps around the handle before you yank it open and pull out a juice container. “It was the right thing,” you whisper, letting the door swing closed, revealing the black and white strip of photos of a small blurry shape taped to the other side. “For all of us.”

The buzzing from the cars zooming past in a haphazard flow does nothing to calm Steve’s nerves as he makes the long drive back to Hawkins.

“Fuck,” he slams his hand against the wheel as the memory of you closing that door, shutting him out of your life, replays in his mind. He shouldn’t have tried to kiss you. He shouldn’t have pushed. After being apart for so long, he should have known better. But seeing you come down the street, having you so close–it was like no time had passed. It felt natural to touch you. He had just wanted to talk. Just wanted to see that you were alright, but the feel of your soft skin under his fingertips had only made him want more. And then, just like before, it was over before it really began.

Steve snaps off the radio, cutting off Lindesy’s pleas. One thing had come out of it, though. He had gone to you looking for clarity, and you had given it to him. You were right. He does know what he wants. He keeps the radio off, rolling down the window, listening to the sounds of life around him. Watching the highways turn into towns and more familiar roads until he was crossing the Hawkins town line. Passing the turn for Cornwallis, he heads north toward Maple. The house is dark when he pulls into the driveway, his lights bouncing off the second-story window he had climbed through more than a few times before. But not tonight. He turns the key, pulling it from the ignition, the leather creaking as he leans back in his seat, closing his eyes. The light’s still low, just breaking, when the knock on his window wakes him. The blue of Nancy’s eyes is brighter than the sky as she stands barefoot, freezing her nightgown. She takes his hand as they walk inside.

“I’m working on it, Flo,” Hopper yells in response to the knock at his closed office door. He scrambles for the empty file folder stuck between his booted feet and the desk that they are resting on. He wraps the folder around the copy of Car and Driver that he’s been reading and quickly shoves the half-eaten donut into his top drawer. Replacing it with a red apple that he takes a big bite of just as his door swings open.

“Oh, it’s you,” he says as Steve wanders into his office, shutting the door behind him and sitting heavily in the chair in front of Hopper’s desk.

“What do you want?” Hopper asks as he settles back further in his chair, his eyes moving back to the file folder he’s holding up in front of him.

“How about a job?” Steve asks, his eyes roving around the small office.

“Ha, good one,” Hopper chuckles, pulling out a camel from his breast pocket.

“I’m serious, Hop.”

Hopper narrows his eyes as he lights his cigarette. “What’s gotten into you, kid? Having regrets about not leaving with Nancy a few weeks ago?”

“No. Nothing like that. It was never gonna work out,” Steve says, shaking his head. He said goodbye to Nancy the morning she found him outside her house. He loved her, but they weren’t right for each other. It would have left them both broken if they’d forced their lives to fit together. So, he let her go like you had let him go with affection and without regrets. Another chapter closed.

“I’m ready to figure out what to do with my life.”

Hopper stays quiet, taking another drag from his smoke.

“I figure I’m pretty good at helping people, so that’s what I want to do,” Steve shrugs.

“This isn’t just helping old ladies across the street, Harrington,” Hopper says, sitting up in his chair and blowing out a steady stream of smoke, “It’s hard work.”

“Yeah, I can eat donuts and read Car and Driver, too, Chief,” Steve says, waving a hand toward Hopper.

“Watch it, kid,” Hopper says, slamming the magazine on his desk and stubbing out his cigarette, “What happened with the girl?”

“The girl?” Steve questions

“You went to see her, right?” Hopper asks, leaning forward on his elbows. “What happened?”

“Nothing happened,” Steve says, looking away.

Hopper’s jaw tightens as his eyes turn to slits under thick eyebrows.

“What do you want me to say?” Steve asks, crossing one leg over the other. “She wasn’t interested.”

“Let me get this straight. You went there?”

“Yup.”

“Knocked on her door?”

“Waited for her to get home half the day.”

“Then you told her you weren’t going with Nancy?”

“Well–“

“And that you’re in love with her.”

“Not exactly.”

“You are in love with her?”

“I–”

“What’s wrong with you, Harrington?” Hopper asks, gripping the edge of his desk, “Are you stupid or something?”

“Jesus, Hop,” Steve says, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Have you seen them out there?” Hopper’s uniform-covered elbow slams down on the desk as he points to the closed door, “I’m full up on stupid. Now,” he says, sitting back and crossing his arms over his chest, “I might have something for someone who’s got their shit together, but right now that aint you, Harrington. So, come back and talk to me when you do.”

“Hop, I–“

“I don’t want to hear it, Harrington. You might be able to do some real good someday, but right now, I’m busy. Important police business to take care of,” Hopper says, propping his feet back up on the desk and burying his face in the magazine.

Steve isn’t sure if it’s sentimentality or sheer curiosity that drew him here, but he did know as soon as he saw the stack of folded afghans being placed in a box at the shelter that this is where he’d end up. On first approach, the cottage doesn’t appear much different than the one in the Upside-down. The tiny home still remained obscured by tall sugar maples and eastern white pines. White curls of paint still clinging to the old timber walls next to sturdy black shutters. But the well-tended beds of colorful flowers that line the walkways and front of the cottage give it a more inviting feel.

His shoes scrape up the stone steps, where he stops to take a fortifying breath preparing to see the woman that used to haunt his bad dreams. His knuckles wrap against the door while flashes of himself cutting away vines play in his mind.

“Mrs. Willard,” he calls after hearing a series of loud coughs on the other side of the door.

“Just a minute. Just a minute,” Her voice gets closer as he hears the locks being worked before the door swings open, “Jesum crow, give an old lady a minute to get to the door.”

Anne Willard’s full height barely put her at the center of Steve’s chest. Her poof of white curls gave her an extra few inches, as well as the sensible black shoes that adorned her feet. “Whatever you’re selling, I don’t want any,” she huffs, ready to slam the door.

“I’m not selling anything, ma’am,” Steve says, giving her one of his best smiles, “I’m Steve Harrington, a volunteer from the shelter over at the middle school. I don’t think anyone thanked you for donating all those blankets, so I wanted to stop by and ask if there was anything I could help you with around your property.”

“Help me?” She takes a step forward, her balled hands landing on her hips, head tipped up to look Steve in the eye, “Do you think I’m senile? Can’t take care of myself?”

“No, ma’am. I know you’re alone out here, and I thought I could be useful.”

“Humph. Well, I guess we’ll have just to wait and see about that,” she says, her clear blue eyes as sharp as a woman half her age, “You better come inside then.”

She turns on her heel, leaving the door open, and Steve with no choice but to follow her. His eyes roam the familiar space. She must not have changed a thing in her home since time stopped in the Upside-down. He feels like he’s lived a lifetime here instead of only a few days.

“Tea,” Mrs. Willard says, raising her finger as she starts down the hall leading to the kitchen. Steve follows her, ghosts echoing in his heart as he passes the closed door of the bedroom where he made love to you.

The kitchen is the same, with brighter sunlight pouring through the windows and backdoor. Fresh flowers stuffed in pitchers dot surfaces between the knit-covered crockery. The older woman stops in front of the butcher block countertop, pushing up on her toes to reach for two mugs from the open shelving.

“Let me do that, Mrs. Willard,” Steve says, reaching beside her and retrieving the mugs.

“Enough with the Missus stuff. Anyone who makes tea in my kitchen calls me Anne,” she says, shuffling to the table and sitting, “The kettle is right there on the–”

But Steve already has the kettle filling. The knited cozy folded neatly near the stove.

“Well, you certainly know your way around a kitchen,” she says, looking at him with a curious eye as he starts the kettle boiling and drops the teabags into the cups.

“I remember you,” she says when he turns and leans against the counter, “I know your mother. You used to run around town with your little gang like you were the Prince of Hawkins. So tell me, have you done any growing up since then?”

“I’d like to think so,” he says as the kettle starts to sing. He pulls it from the stove, pouring water into each mug, and brings both cups to the table.

“Now,” she says, folding her hands in her lap while waiting for the tea to steep, “Is there anything I need doin’? Let’s see, I had the gutters cleaned a few months back. I mow my own lawn and tend to the garden. Besides that, there’s not much else to do. My Jacob built this whole place himself, and it’s just as sturdy as the day we moved in.”

“You have a beautiful home, Anne,” he comments, trying out her first name. “You don’t see places built this solid.” The cottage was the only house they came across in the Upside-Down that was mainly untouched by the decay.

“He built it as a wedding gift. He knew I loved the lake. I just wish we had more years here together. So much wasted time.”

“How long were you married?”

“Forty-three wonderful years. Not enough,” she smiles sadly, sorting through her memories. “We got married at nineteen, but that was considered late at the time. We met when I was sixteen, and everyone knew Jacob was sweet on me right from the start. Walking me home, and bringing me flowers, but every time he asked to take me out, I turned him down flat. I thought he was too good for me. You see, Jacob was from a very well-to-do family. Things like that mattered so much more back then. I told him he shoulda been courting Ellen-Mae Sattler. Her family owned the quarry and half the town. It was no secret she had her sights set on him, but he wouldn’t hear of it. Every time I sent him away, he’d just come right back.”

“How did he finally convince you,” Steve asks, completely wrapped up in her story.

“Well, one day he just showed up with a ring and said, ‘I love you, Annie, and if you turn me down, it’s not going to make one lick of difference cause I’m just gonna keep on loving you anyway.’ We got married three days later." Her lip quivers as her eyes turn glossy. "The Lord knows I miss that man every day. Suppose I’ll be joining him soon enough.”

“I know he’ll be waiting, Anne,” Steve says, covering her hand with his.

“Oh well, now I’ve gotten all weepy,” she says, picking up a napkin to dab at her eyes. “Now, what about you, young man? Do you got a girl out there that you love like that?”

“Yeah,” he says, a smile ghosting his lips, “I definitely do.”

A bright flash lights up your small living room, follows a round of thunder rattling the rain-streaked windows. Wrapping your arms tighter around yourself as you sit on your worn couch with your knees pulled up, tucked under your oversized Perdue sweatshirt, you take deep soothing breaths. There have been storms since you’ve returned, but not like this. Not the kind that has the entire sky dark and purple with near-constant thunder. Not the kind with so much lighting, the hair on your arms stands up straight, and you can feel electricity buzzing in the air. It’s taken you right back there, and this time you’re alone.

With another loud boom, the lamp in the corner of the room cuts out, and the room falls into near darkness. “One-two-three,” you count, trying to keep your voice steady and breathing even. As suddenly as it turned off, the light flares on, and the display on your VCR flashes zeros. A deep sigh escapes your chest just as the door buzzer sounds.

Your muscles are stiff with tension as you stand up, moving towards the intercom, “Who is it?”

“It’s Steve.” The sound of his voice is barely audible over the pouring rain. One hand moves to your mouth while your thumb punches the button, unlocking the door. Here he is, saving you again.

Your fingers shake as you work the locks as quickly as you can, opening the door to him standing there half-drenched, hair dripping onto the collar of his soaked gray jacket, a wet crumpled bag in his right hand. He hasn’t taken a full step over the threshold when you are crushing yourself into his chest, your arms going around his middle. Stiffening, he swallows hard before dropping the bag, his arms wrapping tightly around you. He’s freezing but somehow still filling you with warmth.

“I’m sorry,” you say against his chest, “The storm.”

“It’s okay,” he reassures, pulling you closer, letting his hands trail up and down your back, “you’re alright.”

The feel of his lips ghosting at your temple brings you back to awareness, and you step away from him, heat rising from your chest to your cheeks. “Sorry,” you say again, yanking on the cuffs of your sweatshirt, “You picked a good time to drop by,” you chuckle, trying to hide your embarrassment.

“Yeah?” he laughs with you, “Would you mind if I come in then?”

“Ohmygod,” you cover your face with your hands, “Of course.”

Your eyes shift around your kitchen, trying to remember what you might have left out as he picks up his bag and follows you through your apartment into your living room. A small one-bedroom subsidized by the university, is a step up from the dorms you were lucky to get. The galley kitchen leads into the small living room, big enough for a sofa and a desk, that surface overflows with books and papers.

“Nice place,” he says, concern filling him as he watches you flinch with the next flash of lightning.

“Thanks.” You stand in the middle of the room, unsure of what to do now, watching as he unzips his wet jacket revealing a crisp Polo. He carefully folds it, trying to avoid tracking more water through your apartment, and looks around for somewhere he can put it down.

“Let me get you a towel,” you say, rushing from the room down the narrow hallway, trying to calm the rapid beating of your heart. The wind picks up outside. The storm is right over you now. Branches of the tree outside your bedroom sway back and forth, scraping against your windows. The bi-fold doors of the overstuffed closet stick when you try to pull them open.

“Shit,” you cry when they won’t budge more than an inch.

“Everything okay?” Steve’s worried voice calls from the living room.

The lights flicker as quick snaps of lightning flash like a strobe while you tug harder on the handles. Thunderclaps roar loud enough to shake the entire building as the doors burst open with one last tug that sends you falling backward onto your butt as half your closet empties onto the floor.

“No,” you press your hands to your cheeks, overwhelmed as panic and frustration claw their way up inside you. Ignoring how your head swims, you move to your knees, chasing loose geodes scattered across the floor, when you feel his hands on your shoulders.

“Leave it for now,” he says, his warm hands covering your shaking ones as he helps you to your feet. “It’s not important. We’ll get it cleaned up in a minute.”

Tears prick at your eyes as you nod, trying to slow your breathing.

“It’s okay.” He cups your jaw, tipping your head back so you’re focused on him. The deep hazel of his eyes pulls you in. “Stay with me. I’ve got you, okay? It’s you and me.”

Your hands move to his chest, bunching the fabric into your fists, bringing him closer. Despite the questions that swirl lost somewhere in your mind, you can’t deny yourself the comfort he offers.

“I won’t leave you.” His chest tightens, hoping this is a promise he’s allowed to keep.

“Why aren’t you in Boston?” you ask as a tear spills over your lash line.

“Honey,” his eyes soften as his thumb strokes your cheek, “I was never going to Boston.”

As his arms move around you, bringing you close, you let out a breath that you feel you’ve been holding since you woke up in the hospital. One that has been keeping you from falling to pieces because now you can—he’s holding you together.

Without leaving the safety of his arms, you let him lead you to the couch. Your head finds a home on his chest, and you bring your legs up, curling into him. Something warm gets tucked around you. He holds you close as the storm rages outside, his heartbeat lulling you into calm. At some point, your eyes must have closed because the sound of light rain is the next thing you remember.

“It passed,” Steve says, tightening his hold on you when he feels you stirring, hoping he doesn’t have to let you go yet. Content to stay, you snuggle in deeper, tugging the afghan tighter around you both. The familiar softness of the downy yarn catches your attention.

“Wait, where did you get this?” you ask, sitting up, the scalloped edges running between your fingers, give way to a pattern of multicolored flowers.

“I went to the cottage. Mrs. Willard gave it to me, but I knew right away that it belonged with you.” His arm slides from your shoulder, traveling the length of your back.

“You went there?” An ache runs rampant through your chest. As the sensible voice inside you begs you not to let him climb through the cracks into your heart.

“I needed to see it,” he takes your hand, eager to keep the connection, “it was exactly the same. She hasn’t changed a thing. I asked if she needed any help, but as it turned out, the only thing she needed was someone to listen.”

"And what did she say?"

“She just talked,” he shrugs. “She told me about her husband and their life together. It made me realize how much time I’ve wasted,” he lifts his eyes to yours, “You were right, I know what I want. I want you. You’re the one I can’t live without.”

After all these weeks, the words you didn't dare dream of fall easily from his lips. Leaving what was left of your battered armor to shatter and fall away.

“I should never have left you in the hospital, and I should never have said goodbye. I should have fought for you like I did there. I know you don’t think we belong together, but you loved me. Is there any part of you that still does?”

“I never stopped.” The tears run down your face faster than you can wipe them away. “I can’t. I love you, Steve.”

His eyes light up at your confession. His lips pull tight into a smile as he leans forward, dipping his head, but you stop him with a hand on his chest.

“I love you,” you start again, choking on the words, “But there are things you don’t know about. Things that could change your mind.”

The secret you’ve been keeping is a band on your heart, constricting its beats. One that you know will change everything.

“Honey, whatever it is…I love you. We survived the world burning down around us. We can make it through anything.”

His hand moves to your neck, but you push him away, “No, Steve, you don’t understand,” you hiccup as the tears blur your vision. “I should have told you.”

“It’s okay. I promise,” His thumbs wipe away your tears, “Let me get you some water, and you can tell me.” He stands, leaving you for the kitchen while you try to find a way to tell him.

There’s no doubt in your mind that Steve would do the right thing, and that’s exactly why you couldn’t tell him. He would stay with you out of obligation, and one morning you’d wake up to resentment written all over his face as he trudges through the day instead of living out his dreams. You won’t take that from him. So you’ll tell him, and then you’ll let him go for the last time taking your heart with him. The cabinet bumping closed reminds you of what's pinned on your fridge.

“Steve, wait!” you scramble toward the kitchen, but you're too late. He turns the corner, his eyes lowered to the ultrasound photos he’s carrying in his hands.

You stand still, quiet sobs wracking your chest, like a chess piece on a board waiting to see if his next move will knock you down.

His eyes finally rise, full of hurt and shock. "You're having my baby."

You owe him so much more than the nod of your head, but the words stay lodged in your throat. The sound of soft rain hitting the windows fills the silence between you. He carefully sets the strip of scans on your desk, making sure they have their own spot like they’re something precious. He staggers toward you, moving slowly like he’s afraid to frighten you, his face still in a daze.

“I’m sorry,” you manage as he stops before you. He shakes his head from side to side, keeping his eyes lowered.

“You don’t have to…”

Your words trail off as he sinks to his knees. Placing a gentle hand on your belly, he leans forward until his forehead rests softly beside it.

“Hi,” he whispers, “I’m your dad.”

His fingers stroke feather light where his child is growing inside you. He’s never imagined anything more beautiful.

“You want us?” you ask in whispered tones, “Are you sure?”

“Honey, you’re giving me family. It’s all I have ever wanted.” His lips press softly against your belly.

Your breath leaves your lungs in a whoosh taking your fears with it. The love you feel for him—him and the part of him inside you, cracks open your heart until it’s filling every part of you with such a force you’re surprised you can’t see it glowing under your skin.

“Are they okay?” he asks, lifting his head, keeping his hand where it is, his eyes glossy as he looks up at you, “Is the baby okay? The Upside-down..”

“Yes,” you say, interrupting, not wanting him to worry for a second, “The baby’s fine. Developing normally. I had the ultrasound early, to be sure.” You cover his hand with yours, and he sighs in clear relief, his other hand grabbing your hip.

“You're my reason. Both of you,” he says, pulling you closer, “I’ve never been more sure.”

“You’re mine too,” you say, dropping to the floor to join him, your hand moving to his stubbled cheek, “I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you.”

“It’s okay. It doesn’t matter anymore,” his hand cradles the back of your head, “I love you, and I’m going to take care of you if you’ll let me?”

“How about we take care of each other?”

His lips stretch into a smile before he leans forward, and they close over yours. "Deal," he agrees, going back for another kiss.

Your arms wind around his neck as he pulls you tightly against him. The plush of his lips working lazily around yours. Steve was right. He had held you like this while the world burned around you, expecting your last act to be loving each other. A love that is rare and true and written in the stars. A love that will survive the test of time. Time that neither one of you will take for granted. Living fully in each minute, watching your love grow into a family. You can feel all this in the press of his lips. The stories of your future are printed there.

"I love you," he says again because he wants you to know loving you was never a choice. His fingers move under the edge of your sweatshirt lighting trails of fire along your skin as his kiss changes from slow to hungry.

"Can I touch you?" He asks. Even though his hands are already on you, he wants your permission to go further.

"Please," you pant, already on the edge of being consumed with want, "I need you, Steve."

"I need you too, honey. Need to know you're mine." His hands lift the edge of your sweatshirt, and you raise your arms, helping him rid you of it. He barely glimpses what he's uncovered before you pull at his Polo, stretching the fabric in your greed to feel his skin against yours. He takes you back in his arms, and it feels like home. Your soft skin a contrast to the thatch of hair on his chest as you feel the rapid beat of his heart against your own. The wet slide of his kiss only makes you want more. Want all of him.

Your whimpers drive his urgency as he lets you go to retrieve a pillow from the couch and carefully lays you back on it. His fingers grip the waistband of shorts and panties, sliding them down your legs.

"You look so pretty all laid out for me," he says, pressing a soft kiss to your lips before sitting back on his heels, his big hand landing where your knees are pushed together, "but I want to see all of you."

Your fingers trace your kiss-bitten lips, feeling the ghost of his as your thighs fall open, revealing the glossy evidence of exactly what he does to you. His fingers run absently up and down your inner thigh as he looks his fill wearing the expression of a man about to take what's his.

"Steve," you whine, feeling impatient while your hands move to your breasts adding a graceful slow roll of your hips to remind him he can do more than just look.

"Fuck, honey. How did I ever stay away from you?" he asks, crawling over to place a kiss just above your belly button, the first in a slow trail ending at the top of your pussy. His hands wrap around your thighs, holding you open for his first slow lick up your center that sends your back arching off the floor.

“You taste so good. I’m already addicted,” he says, eyes catching yours before his mouth closes over you in a wet assault, tongue swirling through your folds, drawing circles around your clit.

“No one,” you gasp, clawing at the carpet while your hips fight against the press of his hands, “No one has ever made me feel this way.”

You can feel him smile against you as he slides two fingers inside your velvety heat moving in and out of you steadily, curling upward to brush against the spot that adds a new layer of euphoria radiating through you.

“I’ll spend the rest of my life making you feel like this,” he pauses to kiss the plush of your thigh. Your fingers tangle in his hair as he returns his attention back to your pleasure. He groans with your gentle tugs, the vibrations rippling against your core.

“Need to get you ready for me, honey,” he says, adding a third finger. Biting down on your lip, you hiss through your teeth at the slight sting of the stretch. He gives you time to adjust, waiting until your slick soaks his fingers.

His pace quickens, changing those quick jolts of lighting into a blur of rapture. Your walls tighten as your body tenses. Your chorus of desperate moans his new favorite tune.

"That's it, give it all to me. Cum for me, beautiful." His lips close over your clit, sucking in short bursts. Your blood sings with the new sensations rushing through you, turning molten as you rise like a fiery star.

Calling his name, you fall over the edge into bliss, the world ceasing to exist beyond your connection. He helps you float down with gentle touches and light kisses placed on your belly. He can’t fight back his smile as he looks down at you. A face that he memorized every detail of, now glowing with his love and his child. He didn’t have to die to become the man he wanted to be. He just had to open his heart.

When your eyes flutter open, he’s there, deep moss swirling with amber and gold filled with love. From the first moment you met, you placed your faith in him, and fate has led you to a love you never thought you’d find. After the uncertainty, the struggles, and the fears have fallen away, love is all that is left between you.

He’s chosen you, and you, him. Once in another world and again in this one. A life together that was fought for and hard-won. As the page turns, you’re no longer fearful of what's next, knowing you’ll be together. Whatever lies ahead, you’ll take his hand and welcome the adventure.

Epilogue

"And that's why you don’t take life for granite."

A chorus of groans erupts as the students gather their books and papers when the shrill bell sounds over the loudspeaker.

"Hey, I better start getting some more laughs out of you all, or I'll be forced to assign more homework," you call out over your shoulder as you erase the formulas you had written on the blackboard.

"Will we see you later, Mrs. Harrington?" says the ringleader of a group of four boys lingering around your desk.

"Sorry, guys. No AV club tonight," you tell them as you settle into the creaking chair behind your wooden desk, "I've got plans. Next week, alright?"

"I bet you're going to be busy getting set up to watch the Perseid meteor shower?" questions Travis, the overly enthusiastic one. With a mouth full of braces and a head full of curls, he reminds you of someone else you know.

"Something like that," you smile, thinking about your plans as you tidy the papers on your desk, adjusting the large geode next to your nameplate.

"Alright, see you tomorrow," they concede, shuffling out, their disappointment already forgotten by the time they make it to the door.

"See you tomorrow," you call after them as Tina, an 8th grader with hearts in her eyes, squeezes past them into the doorway.

"A policeman in the office is asking to see you, Mrs. Harrington."

"Thank you, Tina. Can you please tell him I'll meet him outside?" you can barely hide your smile, knowing exactly why he’s here.

"Sure," she says, leaning her head against the edge of the door frame, "He's really dreamy."

“Alright, Tina,” your eyes roll, “Get to where you're supposed to be.”

She’s quick to follow instruction as you finish preparing for your next class. Leaving your room, you walk through the quiet halls and across the empty gym, the sound of your heels clicking against polished floors. Pushing open the set of double doors at the far end, a warm hand wraps around your bicep, pulling you outside into the shade of the building and maneuvers you up against the hard brick wall.

“Mmm,” you whine as Steve pulls away the collar of your blouse and attaches his lips to the spot where your pulse is speeding up, “You're going to get me in trouble,” your voice already breathless, as your hands move to his head holding him there.

“I can’t help it,” he says, running his hands along your sides, “I’ve been thinking about you all day. You’ve got me so distracted.”

“Is that so?” you ask as his lips brush over yours.

“That’s so.” His thumb tugs at your chin, coaxing you to open so he can take the kiss deeper. “I can’t even concentrate..” His words trail off as his mouth takes yours, kissing you like he did that very first time. Like you’re the only woman in the world. Like he adores you.

“Steve,” you mumble against his lip as your hands smooth up the front of the crisp tight-fitting blue button-up. Seeing him in uniform never fails to make you ache with need. The top two buttons are always undone, revealing the white shirt he wears underneath with just a glimpse of the hair on his chest showing and a shiny silver badge pinned just left of his heart. Your fingers tangle in the hair at the nape of his neck that he still wears too long to be regulation.

“What did the doctor say this morning?” He asks as one of his hands slides lower on your hip, down the side of your skirt, dipping just under the hem.

“He gave me the all clear,” you breathe out, pulling his mouth back to yours as his hand continues to climb until it finds the lacy edge of your stocking and the garter it’s attached to.

"Are you wearing lingerie?" His fingers get bolder seeking out more of the lace.

"It's new," you answer, grinding yourself against his hardening length, “I thought you deserved it. You’ve been taking such good care of everything since the baby.”

“Jesus, honey,” he groans, tipping his head back and slapping his hand against the rough wall of the building, “How am I going to wait until the kids are in bed?”

“You won’t have to. Hopper is picking up the boys after hockey, and Joyce already has the baby,” two of your fingers start walking down the front of his shirt, brushing against the leather of his belt, heading lower to the flat front of his tight black pants. “We’ll have the house to ourselves until tomorrow.”

“What about Fate?” He asks, his eyebrows pulling together, always the protector of his other favorite girl.

“She’s having a girl's night with El and Max.” you smile, knowing he would ask about your oldest. You set up this plan weeks ago. Waiting to be together after the birth of your babies is just as hard on you as it is on him.

“You’re sneaky.” His hand reaches around you to give your ass a little squeeze.

“You love it,” you admit pressing a small kiss to his lips.

“I love you,” he says as the bell rings again, projected through the speaker over your heads.

“I’ve got to go,” you swat his hand away so you can straighten your skirt.

“Not yet,” he pouts, using a finger to trace your neckline, pulling it away from your body, ��Just let me have a little peek,” he tries looking down the front of your blouse.

“Get out of here,” you laugh, giving him a gentle push.

“Fine,” he grumbles with a smile, turning to walk back to where his cruiser is parked.

“Tonight,” you call, making him turn and look back at you.

“Tonight,” he says, raising the fingers of his left hand to his lips, the sun glinting off the gold band on his fourth finger, “and forever.”

The End

AN: Thank you so much for sticking with this little series. It challenged me in ways that I never expected, but I learned a lot writing it.

#steve harrington #stranger things #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington smut #stranger things fanfic #if tomorrow never comes #steve harrington x fem #stranger things smut

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