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#first time ever drawing soul in full body
purpleleafsyt · 7 months
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{And I cannot resist, though futile it is to admit to insist to use these gifts. Comically kissed, analogous to the abyss}
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The Background + Soul separated, as a treat
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diejager · 6 months
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Not gonna lie, love the Only Human Series and some of the fluff you do.
Thinking of including this in my own fanfics, but want to see how you would make it. Hunter is a medic and a smart one…
How soon until she exploits the 141’s monster weaknesses?
Soap pinning you down only to give out to belly rubs, Gaz getting preened and his feathers ruffling when you hit the relaxing sweet spot, etc.
Cw: teasing, using vulnerabilities, tell me if I missed any.
At a certain point, you’d gotten tired of their shenanigans, the small pranks and fright they pulled on you when they felt especially cheeky. Gaz and Soap were the biggest culprits, their streaks of mischief the highest than any. Soap would jump you when you lounged around in the Task Force’s personal red room, his round fingers finding a sensitive spot under your ribs and sinking into it with a conviction as strong as he had in battle. Gaz was the cheekiest of them all, throwing you a flirtatious grin before he swept you off your feet, pulling you left and right to appease his little need for attention, his talons finding comfort under your arms and teeth under your jaw. 
Whereas Horangi and Rudy were more… mellow, their mischief calmer and rarer than the two first. Horangi, being a stalking feline, stealthily made his way around you, feet carrying him from shadow to shadow with utmost silence without alerting you of his presence and jumping at you when the moment was perfect. Rudy was the least problematic, his gentle soul a being of tenderness, yet still full of eager teasing, whispering sweet words in your ears while you worked, drawing your mind elsewhere until you shooed him off, still squirming in your seat.
You swore the others knew —you knew they did. Ghost’s shoulders would shake in silent chuckles, his eyes warmly staring at you and Soap fighting on the couch after you fell down. Price smoked his cigar while he watched you, his shoulders slumped down and posture relaxed, unbothered by your screeching and Gaz’s cackling. Alejandro, for all his sugary smiles, did little to hide his wide grin, enjoying watching your thighs clench and bite your lip when Rudy pressed himself against you, breathing flirtatious words in your ear. And König, the giant percht was consciously acting as a wall between you and Horangi, helping him get an upper hand into scaring you, his low rumble and big hands caging you between them after a scare, wandering over you until you scolded them.
You would get back at them —you did. Soap was your first victim, the first out of eight that you would make him regret ever tiring you. You knew his tail was sensitive, the soft furs and the nerves connected to his spine made it especially prone to overstimulation, which made it your perfect weapon against him. When you found him relaxing on the couch, his body draped over it, tail swaying softly, you stalked towards him and pulled on it. He jumped, a loud moan slipping from his lips, his back shuddering as your brushed your hand from the base to the tip of his tail, his fur bristling up.
Horangi had the same vulnerability, his tail standing out like a red signal, dangerous and weak. This time, you used Königagainst him, walking as quietly as you could behind the percht, following them and only sliding aside when you found his tail curling upwards. You’d never heard him screech as loudly as he did, his ears raised so high as he whipped around, cheeks flustered and eyes wide as he stared at you, his pupils dilated. Your stroked his twitching tail, smirking at his dark blush as he stumbled on his words, forcing him to curled towards you with shaky hands clutching your arm and waist. You turned a big, bad tiger into a small house cat.
Gaz was more tricky, you knew his wings were sensitive, the pin feathers prone to feeling the change of air current or touch but the muscle of his back, between both wings, was the most sensitive, it was robust, but a weak point for most flying hybrids. You teased him when he came for a check up, realising his wings had a few new feathers, short and young, still so new as they grew out of its root. You unconsciously brushed your fingers over them, gazing at his bare back ripple and tense, his sculpted back jerking and muscles moving at the slightest touch, then you found an excuse - you couldn’t even remember - to knead his pectoralis muscles and watch him stiffle his moans and squirm beneath your touch.
Rudy was the hardest to pick at, he didn’t have any animal characteristics or sensitive spots a monster would have, he - essentially - was a human with special powers. Then, you figured that you might as well give him a taste of his own medicine, turning the tables against him and tease him red. You had no qualms in hissing out promises and filthy secrets into his ear, your hands running over his shoulders and sliding down his arms, holding him still by the hips. You couldn’t hold down the smile that kissed his lobe, feeling the skin warm with a fiery blush, listening to him stammer and choke down any whimpers that threatened to slip. It was your turn to leave him squirming and blushing, biting his lip to stop himself from following the sway of your hips, eyes bleeding out his need for your touch and affection. 
Revenge tasted the sweetest when served cold. 
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chxrryhansen · 7 months
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౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊ 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐘 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐂𝐑𝐘
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Pairing; Dark!Steve Rogers x Reader
Warnings; smut, dark themes, non con, breeding kink, oral- both receiving, degrading, size difference, unbalanced power dynamic, huge daddy kink, choking- to the point reader can’t breathe, dumbification, dacryphillia, spanking, steve is very dark in this, no aftercare!! i think thats it? Minors please DNI!!!!!
Summary; Steve Rogers, your boyfriend, the man everybody loved, his soul soft, standing against all evils. Until he got a taste of that sweet power. He became hungry. Now, you have no choice but to obey his rules. Can you bring him back to the light? Or is it too late? (it’s definitely too late)
here we have my first ever full fic! firstly i would like to give a huge thankyou to @dbnightingale24 for giving me the confidence and tips to write this! and another big thankyou to @evansbby and @hansensgirl for inspiring me in the first place for begin writing💘it’s around 3k words and i really put my all into this so please don’t forget to comment and reblog, i would love to hear all of your feedback!🫶🏻 much love, cherry.
₊♡₊˚ 🎀・₊✧
Steve Rogers, the man everyone respected, the man everyone believed in, looked up too. The man you used to cherish, his sweet boyish nature drawing you in from the moment you met. His pearly blues that used to soften as they fell on you, his gentle touch as he caressed your hair, the tender, loving kisses he used to leave all over your body.
Until Fury resigned that was.
Steve was officially the new director of shield, to which nobody opposed, i mean, who would right? He was Captain America, the man out of time. He was perfcet for the role. Strong willed, commanding yet understanding, he had respect for those beneath him and most of all he was compassionate, something that was hard to find in a good leader. This didn't last for long, of course.
Steve shortly became power hungry, his morals became more sick and twisted as his methods became more sadistic. He was violent, cruel…volatile. There was no bringing back Steve Rogers. The problem was he dragged everybody else down with him, nobody dared to stand up to Steve, too frightened of the consequences.
Tony couldn't talk Steve down, he tried for a while, attempted to reach out to him, guide him back to the light...but nothing worked. Tony couldn't do it, nor could you, not even his best friend of over a decade could sway his newfound mindset. You all figured it was best to keep your heads down from now on and follow Steves orders, no matter how out of line they seemed.
Not that you had a choice anyway.
Bucky was short to follow in his footsteps as his second in command. Both cruel and unforgiving. Your friendship with Bucky was practically non-exhistant, you no longer had movie nights together, giggling with big buckets of popcorn.
A simple nod of his head as he passed you down the hall was about as much as you would get. Steve wouldn't allow it now anyway.
Steve's display of affection changed alongside him, the love he made was no longer passionate, or gentle. In fact, he didn’t make love at all anymore… what he made was simply rough, hard, fucking.
The marks he left behind were no longer loving hickeys while he whispered in your ear, moaning sweet nothings as he gently thrusted his hips into your own. His eyes, gleaming with nothing but pure devotion.
They were bruises... bruises from how hard his hips slammed into your ass from behind, his grip tight on your hair, pulling and tugging as your skin became flustered at the impact of his thrusts. You missed the man he was. You often thought about that life while his cock was busy destroying your cunt. He didn’t care about your pleasure anymore, you were nothing but a hole for him to fuck.
From a distance you could hear Steves heavy boots storming down the coridoor. The sound was instantly unsettling. Your body recognising the noise as a trigger for an oncoming threat, sending you into alert mode.
You stood from your office chair on shaky legs, your posture rigid as he turned the corner to enter. His 6'4, stoic figure coming into view, casting a shadow that filled the room. His broad shoulders spread wide, his presence making your tummy tighten with unease.
He said nothing as he stared down at you, your fingers tugging at your short pink skirt- which he had chosen out for you this morning, the same way he customised your figure every morning. Claiming your dumb, baby brain was incapable of choosing an outfit that proved elegance and professionalism. In reality it was the complete opposite.
He liked to dress you in short skirts, ones that left little to the imagination, your asscheeks peeking out most days and revealing blouses, your tits practically spilling out of your shirts. You were highly sought after by the males at the compound before he came and scooped you up a few years ago.
They knew you were his, i mean he was your boyfriend for several years, you were what the female agents used to coo at, naming you as "couple goals". Where Steve went, you went, and vice versa. You were always seen smiling and giggling together, tag teaming on missons and holding hands as you explored the compound.
But, as steves power grew so did his insecurity. His possesive nature grew strong, wanting, no, needing to show other men you belonged to him, and only him. And you always would, whether you liked it or not.
"Get on your knees."
"Wh-What?"
"Get on your knees. You know i don't like to repeat myself." he growls while pushing your office door closed with one arm from behind, not daring to take his eyes of you.
You gulped as he stepped forward, caging you inbetween his thick biceps as you lean against your desk. One thing he was always good at was making you feel small. Even before all of this. Of course it wasn't anywhere near as threatening as it was now. He used to joke about how tiny you were compared to him, how he could pick you up with one hand, it was cute how big and protective he was of you.
Now, he used it to his advantage. He knew you feared him. He knew that you knew, you would never be able to run from him. He would overpower you every damn time with his brute strength.
There was no running from Steve Rogers. His thick beard scraped against your sensitive skin sending shivers down your spine as he groaned into your neck, your scent driving him wild.
He whispered darkly in your ear "Final chance. Get on your knees. Now, or you won't like what'll happen if you refuse me again."
You inhaled sharply, goosebumps spreading across your body in pure fear, or ecstacy. It was hard to tell these days. Steve had conditioned you so well to his own liking that even your body reacted to him in ways you would never fully understand. Or so he says.
Slowly you inched down towards the floor with your knees bent. The cold, rough flooring instantly proving to be uncomfortable as you figited. But Steve didn't care about that, why would he? His thick hand gripped your chin, forcing you to look up at him through hooded eyelids.
His thumb swipes across your bottom lip, he then pushes further, massaging your tongue as saliva begins to pool in your mouth. Removing his thumb slowly, he tugged on your bottom lip with pinched fingers. Before you even realised what was happening he shoves two fingers down your throat.
You sputter and gag around his thick digits, drool leaking out of the corners of your mouth, dripping onto the hard floor. Your eyes squeezed shut in pain as tears began rolling down your flustered cheeks.
His other hand is quick to grip your hair, tugging harshly. "You fuckin' look at me while daddy gags you with his fingers. Actin' like you don't get off on this shit. You love it. Say 'thankyou daddy'." he mocks with a high pitched tone.
Desperately trying to get the words out, you mumble around his fingers, seeming incoherent. He laughs darkly at your poor attempt, shoving his fingers deeper down your throat, gagging you one last time before pulling out.
"You gonna' be a good whore n' suck my dick? Huh? You fuckin' slut." His hand reaches down, pulling your shirt to the side, making your tits spill out. You hear him let out a loud groan, his pants tightening at the sight of your bare chest. He pinches your hard nipple roughly, rolling it roughly inbetween his index finger and thumb as you cry out, tears continuing to stream down your cheeks.
He shushes your cries gently as he begins to massage the same spot he previously assaulted making you keen with pleasure.
He had a thing for associating pain with pleasure, confusing your silly little brain into thinking the hurt he put you through was a good thing since pleasure soon followed. That he was rewarding you.
"Unzip me. Cmon' you dumb baby, take daddys fat cock out."
Listening to your own heartbeat in your ears, your head pounding with adrenaline, your fingers itch towards his pants. Which was apparently too slow for his liking as his grip on your hair tightens, making you sqeeze your eyes shut briefly before opening them, not wanting to anger him further.
You hurridly unzip his pants, reaching into his boxers and pulling out his cock. It's angry head pointing towards you as he grips the base with his other hand, slowing pumping his shaft over your face.
He pushes his bulbous tip into your closed lips, smearing his hot precum all over them. When you refuse to open your mouth he growls, pinching your nostrils closed. Feeling the air begin to leave your lungs, you gasp for breath and he's quick to shove his dick down your throat.
Gagging at the intrusion you cry harder, your lips stretching to fit around his thick length. his hips thrusting into your face as he fucks your throat harshly.
"That's it, you whore. Take daddys dick all the way down your throat. You fuckin' remember this the next time you try to refuse me."
His hand which was previously tugging at your hair moves towards your throat, holding you in a tight grip.
"Fuck... i can feel my fuckin' cock in that tiny throat of yours. Love it when you cry f' me, just makes me want to fuck you even harder, sweet girl." he grunts loudly over the sound of your gagging. Steve swiftly pulls his dick out as you keel over, coughing and sputtering, your throat sore from his brutal assault.
Before you even have a chance to gain your breath, his thick hands grip your shoulders, pulling you upright, bending you over your desk. Your legs shaking as he positions you so your ass is sticking out.
Lowering himself to the ground, he grips the flesh of your ass, squeezing roughly as he lifts up your skirt, briskly pulling your panties to the side. He shoves his nose into your pussy, groaning in delight at your sweet scent.
"Fuck i could live inbetween these slutty legs, your cunt's always ready for daddy, huh? Trained you so well." Your sticky juices smeared across your legs, dripping with desire, his facial hair bristling against your thighs making you squirm.
He mercilessly pushes his tongue as deep as it can go into your hole. You whimper as he laps up your wetness, his tongue prodding at your insides. Your arousal soaking his beard while your pussy clenched around his tongue. He pulls away for a moment, “God, how do you taste so fuckin’ good.” he groans.
Reaching back to grip his hair in your small fists, you go to push his face back into your cunt, completely overwhelmed with pleasure. His hand grips your wrist tightly, pining your arm to the desk, a sure reminder of who's in charge, seeming as you had forgotten your place. “Stay fuckin’ still or i’ll stop. Don’t you ever pull that shit again.”
You moan lewdly as he moves to latch onto your clit, sucking and swirling his tongue around your sensitive bundle of nerves. Groaning into your pussy as he fists his cock.
Your eyes begin to roll back as your orgasm itches closer. Steve, realising this, pulls away once again. Your juices stringing from your clit to his lips as you cry out, your orgasm beginning to fade.
"Stop with the fuckin' whining. Daddy's gonna' fuck you now. Tell daddy how much you want his cock...Cmon. No need to act all innocent now." he pressures at your hesitation.
"P-Please daddy wan' you to fuck me."
"You can do better than that." Steve husks, giving your ass a harsh smack from behind, knowing your skin will blister from his force.
Your lips quiver as you cry, "Please! N-Need your cock inside me so badly, wan' you to destroy me for anybody else. Wanna' feel you in my cervix daddy, Jus' wanna make you feel good. Love how full you make me feel. Please...I-I'll die if you don't fuck me. Pretty pretty ple-."
and before you can finish your sentence your cut off by your own scream, his cock dissapearing inbetween your folds as he bottoms out with a singular thrust. Your legs become slack as your body spasms at the intrustion, his hands grip your hips, keeping you in place as you squirm, instinctively trying to escape his hold.
"F-Fuck, Y-Your so big daddy. It hurts so bad, p-pull out!"
"Shut up." he groans as his thick hand covers your mouth from behind. “Gonna fuckin’ dog fuck you til you can’t think of anything but this fat fuckin’ cock you dirty little slut, you hear me?” he practically growls as he begins to fuck you.
The sound of clapping skin begins to fill the room, agents around the compound sure to hear the way his dick bruitalises your cunt.
"Such a filthy girl i have, always so desperate for daddy to fuck you, even when you try and deny it, i know this sweet pussy would never lie to me." He coos in your ear as you sob, your face wet with tears and saliva.
"My messy whore, see what happens when you don't listen to me? You see what a mess you become? Fuck. You look so pretty like this, this is how you should always be, filled to the brim with my fat dick.”
Steve had always loved fucking you braindead, watching as your eyes glaze over and your tongue begins to hang out of your mouth, drooling all over yourself. It made him feel powerful, like you were dependent on him. Which you were in a sense, always so needy and desperate for him to fuck you.
The impact of his animalistic thrusts turn your skin raw as he speeds up. His arm wrapping around your waist, pressing you close to him as he spreads his legs further apart, hitting a new angle inside your pussy. You let out a loud wanton moan as his balls slap against your clit.
“F-Fuck yes! H-Harder daddy.”
“Yeah? You like that? I know you do, it’s okay. Is my little girls brain goin’ fuzzy? Huh? Poor girl.” Steve mocked, amusement clear in his tone. "M' gonna' cum. Daddy please can i cum?" you whine, the knot in your stomach tightening, a warning that your orgasm was near.
"Yeah baby? You gonna' cum for me you dirty whore? Go ahead, cum all over my dick. Can feel you clenching around me, grippin' me like a fuckin' vice."
Your cream coats his length as you let out a muffled cry, biting your lip harshly as you cum.
"T-Thankyou daddy. Feels s-so good..." you babble, your thick cream creating a ring around the base of his cock. Your weight giving out once again as Steve holds you, smirking as he watches you come undone, giving you no escape from his relentless thrusts.
His thick shaft pummeling your insides as you scream with ecstacy, your pussy throbbing as he fucks you through your high.
"F-Fuck look at that... love watching your cream leak around my cock, taking this dick so good for me. Gonna' cum inside you...yeah? You want daddy to fill you up?" he groans as his own orgasm nears, talking himself through it.
"God, this cunt treats me like a fuckin' king. It's coming baby, daddys gonna cum, Oh fuck fuckkk." his hips twitch and his balls throb as his load begins to fill you, shooting out thick ropes of hot cum into your pussy. Moaning at the sensation of his warmth inside you.
“Take my fuckin’ cum. That’s it, good girl. Love watchin’ your pussy swallow my hot fuckin load, bet you love it too, hm? You slut.” he pants, exhausted from the brutal fucking he just gave you.
He snaps out of it almost instantly, pulling out without warning and tucking his softening cock back into his pants.
Giving your ass a harsh smack, he steps back. You turn to look at him, your eyes glazed over. He stares at the ground with no emotion as he combs his locks with his fingers, making himself seem presentable.
Hope fills you, your heart races as you lick your lips in anticipation, wondering if he will stay to comfort you and hold you the way he used to many months ago.
But he doesn't. You get nothing but a short glance as he turns to exit your office, slamming the door shut on his way out. You slump down against the floor, a complete mess.
Your soft cries turn to sobs, breathing rapidly, your hands gripping your hair as you raise your knees to your chest. It was almost as if he had you in a trance when he was burried inside your cunt, as soon as he was done it was like the fog in your brain had cleared.
People told you there was no bringing the old Steve back, that your sweet, caring boyfriend was gone. Replaced by a monster.
You didn't want to believe them... but maybe you should've.
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teamatsumu · 11 months
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kinktober 2023 -> day 20
scratching - bokuto koutaro x reader
word count: 750
kinktober masterlist
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In his first week of joining MSBY, Hinata received the shock of his life when he first saw Bokuto shirtless in the locker room.
“Bokuto-san!” He had gasped, eyes widening when they fell on his senpai’s back. Red scratches lined the wide expanse of skin, some long and thin, some short and choppy, scattered between them were small, crescent shaped markings that looked an awful lot like nails digging into skin. Bokuto had turned around at the sound of his name, staring curiously at Hinata until the boy had gestured to Bokuto’s marred back questioningly. He laughed.
Bokuto was a beast on the court. So he didn’t understand why people were surprised that he was a beast in bed too. Nothing about him was subtle, so of course, the remnants of his sex life lived on his skin proudly, and he had no desire to hide them. After Hinata got over his initial shock, he realized how on-brand this actually was. Bokuto was an intense person, loud and proud, and he met the same standards in all areas of his life. All of them.
So when Bokuto fucked you into the mattress, pounded his cock into your little hole, he didn’t protest against your body’s reactions, didn’t mind when you screamed and arched, arms wrapping around him and nails digging deep into his skin. He welcomed it, reveled in the pricking and burning on his back when you dragged your fingers over it, crying into his ear about how good it felt, how you had missed his cock filling you up the way it was right now. He would watch your teary eyes and flushed face, feeling the last vestiges of his control slip away at how pathetic and whiny you looked, reduced into a mess because of him.
Your feet would kick out, twitching and trembling when he found that one glorious spot deep inside you, the tip of his dick hitting it again and again, hips smacking into you with purpose. One of his hands would reach for the headboard, holding himself steady as he lost himself to the feeling of your tight, fluttering walls, squeezing so gloriously around his shaft that it only made him go faster, thrust harder, hearing you squeal and arch until your breasts pressed to his bare torso, and your nails dug deep, likely drawing blood, little swipes of your hands as you came around his dick, crying at how good he made you feel.
There was a sharp, sharp sting that came with your nails. When you would first dig them into Bokuto’s back, he didn’t feel much, but as time passed and Bokuto kept thrusting into you, he would feel a thin burn, tracks of it shooting their way down his back until they made him tense up, and all the blood rushed to his cock. The pain would muddle his brain so gloriously it made him feral. And all he could think of was filling your begging, weeping cunt full of his cum.
The snug, wet warmth of your pussy, combined with the tingling fire on his back, was what made him empty his load into you, eyes rolling up as his hips stuttered, smacking his hips into you one last time before he came deep inside, feeling as if his very soul was being sucked out of him and into the welcoming embrace of your greedy cunt. It was enough to make Bokuto black out for a moment, so lightheaded that, for a split second, he would forget his own name.
He wouldn’t even register the aftereffects of your passionate activities until he heard your horrified gasp behind him in the shower.
“Kou, your back!” Your eyes wide with guilt, one hand covering your mouth in shock. Bokuto would blink in confusion as you fussed over him, not understanding what the big deal was. So you had scratched him up while having sex, what was the problem here? It felt good when you did it, and it still felt good afterward. He could feel the sting whenever he moved, a reminder of his bedroom activities, a huge boost to his ever-hungry ego. And when he would try to explain it to you, proudly yet childishly calling them ‘battle scars’, you would huff out a worried laugh, only backing down when he reassured you over and over again that he liked it, loved it, in fact. Would proudly carry the signs of your pleasure on his back. Would be willing to show everyone how good he made his girl feel.
The entire volleyball team already knew, and if some paparazzi were to conveniently catch him shirtless at any time, the whole world would know too. And Bokuto had no problem with that.
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@bxbyyyjocelyn @thisbicc @lazuliquartz @dreamayy @kuroosluthoe @true-form-hoe @akumakitsune21 @cham0mil3-and-h0n3y @samisfunky @universal-s1ut @msbyomimi @dohwaesu @leothesquishy @n0tmykays @tsukiran @reyofsunshinelol @bleach-your-panties @galaneiaeris @leyra-giovanni @erenspersonalwh0re @peachesncats @soapsoftheworld @iwannabecamiloshovel @vintagevict0ria @smithieandy @moonlit-mizukage @snazzyturtles @argwein
A/N: For those whose tags arent working, im sorry! I tried and for some reason, your names wont show up in the mentions :( another way of being notified is to turn on my blog notifs for @teamatsumufics . I only reblog my fics there so it serves almost like being in a taglist!
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cegiel-athelia · 4 months
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In This Lifetime
(a Love and Deepspace fanfic featuring Zayne)
Genre: Fluff mostly. Hints of intimacy.
I reckon that based on his head cannon, Zayne would be hesitant to get MC pregnant in light of her heart condition, especially since he is her doctor. So I wanted to write about it — about the conversation that they would have had.
I haven’t written a fanfic in years. Who knows whether I may start again. But this is all I have, for now.
I did my best to stay true to the storyline and memories.
I hope that this will be a pleasant read.
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Lying in bed, you gazed at the man peacefully sleeping next to you on the right side of the bed — his preferred side, the glow of the moonlight that seeped through the curtains gently bounced off his dark hair. Zayne’s fingers were interlaced with yours and he held it close to him as he slept, his frame rising and falling quietly as he breathed. His eyelashes cast long shadows on his face. He was beautiful in both body and soul.
Tonight was one of the few nights you both were able to spend a full night together. Such were the demands of his job. You did not want to so much as move lest you wake him. His sleep was mostly deep in short stints, yet light since his body was attuned to be ready on call at any given moment.
You reminisced about the time when you first met him — he was so little then, as you were too — and how he ‘fixed’ your melting popsicle with his evol so that you could be happy again, and you were. You recalled him speaking of this once when you were dating, although you acted as if you could not remember the event only so that you could hear it from his point of view. The manner in which he spoke of it made your heart blossom with love for him. You wanted so much to return the love he gave, which has been consistently genuine and magnanimous. It was only natural that you would fall so deeply in love with him.
It has been three years since you married him and everyday with him was a blessing. Earlier during this night, he was passionate — he usually was, but more so tonight and it was probably because you.
See, Zayne was innately caring as a person, but it was also an occupational hazard. You knew he wanted to live a full life with you as you too wanted it with him. Before tonight, he was always cautious to protect you during intimacy. His concern stemmed mostly from your heart condition, and the rest of it was because you had not yet expressed that you were prepared to be with child — until tonight.
Your mind wandered back to the conversation you had and you remembered feeling bashful as you called out his name between his heated kisses to draw his attention. When his eyes, glazed with desire met yours, your cheeks flared causing you to involuntarily look away. You were secretly glad that the darkness of the bedroom hid your reddening cheeks from his view. Still, he was not impatient with you and waited for you to continue.
You steeled your nerves as you uttered, “Zayne.. I..” You paused to glance at him, but his gaze was too intense for you to maintain eye contact. Looking downwards, your fingers gently gripped his shoulder for support as you continued between pauses, “I.. wanna start a family with you.”
His silence unnerved you and you looked to him again, searching for an indication in his expression, but he was hard to read.
Uncertainty and doubt started to cloud your mind. Maybe you had been wrong about him wanting a family seeing as he was lonely in his childhood.
Almost failing to mask the disappointment in your voice, you murmured, “Only if you want—“
“I want it.” He said before you could finish your sentence. Taking your hand in his, he pressed it to his heart, and your evol autonomously resonated with it, revealing his quickening heartbeat. “All I have ever wanted was to share a life with you and you have made that wish finally come true. For that, I am eternally grateful.” He pressed his lips onto your forehead in a long gentle kiss before meeting your eyes again.
“I researched.” This time it was him who looked away, voice trailing off. He had effectively confessed that he was of the same mind — that he wanted you to bear his child.
You smiled as you concocted several lines that would possibly tease him, but you said nothing so that he could continue.
“Whilst yours is a unique condition, there is no known study to evidence that pregnancy would adversely affect a heart condition as long as you remain disciplined in taking your medication in consultation with both the obstetrician and your primary care physician.” It was dark but you could tell he was smirking when he referred to himself.
“Yes, Dr. Zayne. I trust that you would’ve conducted research on how best to impregnate your wife.” You smirked while drawing your lips closer to his, ensuring that he felt the heat of your exhalation on his skin. With a lilt, you breathed, “I leave myself, and my body, in your good and incredibly strong hands.”
The conversation ended and a sensual dance of bodies took center stage. It was a night you would remember.
A smile found its way onto your lips as you lovingly gazed at your husband in recollection of the night’s events. You unconsciously stroke his hand that was holding yours with your thumb, which caused the man to stir and sleepy eyes met yours.
Leaning over to brush his fringe from his forehead, you whispered, “I’ll love you in every lifetime.”
286 notes · View notes
ozarkthedog · 9 months
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warnings: 18+ - mdni. frankie x afab!reader. fingering.
author’s note: happy slutty Sunday ☀️
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Frankie being overly cautious about fucking you with his massive cock for the first time. So he insists on basically fisting you. He needs to get you used to the feeling of being split in fucking half all the time.
“Just another finger, gatita.” Frankie husks, sliding a third finger into your overstimulated core, stretching you even further, more than you ever thought possible. “That’s it, relax for me. Let me spread this pretty pussy open.” His thick fingers feel foreign as he thrusts into your heat, forcing your channel to mold around his imposing digits. 
You lay dumbfounded in a pool of shiny slick as it drips down your cheeks. Frankie works you to the edge and back an unfathomable amount of times. It's a tortuous game that makes you paw at his bare chest and whimper into every possessive kiss. 
“One more.” He husks, nibbling the apple of your cheek. A heavy thumb draws passive circles around your swollen clit. Your body shudders. Your head lolls from side to side, so overstimulated and wrung out. You can’t possibly take anymore. “No, no. Don’t give up on me, gatita. I haven’t even stuffed you full of my cock yet.”
He adds another finger while licking into your mouth, claiming two of your holes at once. You lose track of where you end, and he begins. Long, fat fingers glide and prod, producing frantic mewls and copious amounts of cream from your body. He slithers like a snake into the deepest parts of you, forming you to his liking and bending you to his every desire.
“Look at you.” He groans, pulling away to peer between your sticky thighs. Your soaked folds tightly nestle his four thick, creamy fingers as he lazily thrusts them back and forth. “Never seen such a puffy cunt stretched to the brim before.” 
He grazes something devastating deep inside— your belly lurches. You scramble to grab ahold of him as he continues to shove his fingers into your channel, disregarding your delirious mewls. 
“Gonna fuck that tight cunt open.” He drops his forehead to yours and stares down into your soul. “Won’t be surprised if you can’t hold my cum after. S’gonna be dripping out of you like a faucet.”
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astroeleanor · 3 months
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People's First Impression of YOU (Based on Your Rising Sign & Chart Ruler)
Have you ever wondered what kind of first impression you leave on others? Your Rising Sign & Chart Ruler can offer insights into how you are perceived. They reveal the key characteristics you project to the world, shaping the way people see you.
ARIES Rising or Chart Ruler
As an Aries rising, you may be perceived as dynamic & energetic from the first encounter. You may have strong, defined facial features, such as a prominent brows, piercing eyes and a confident posture. Your body language may exude confidence or you may tend to move with purpose & urgency. People might also see you as assertive, enthusiastic, leadership-oriented, straightforward or passionate.
TAURUS Rising or Chart Ruler
As a Taurus rising, when people first meet you, they notice your calmness, stability & grounded presence. This makes others feel comfortable & drawn to your soothing energy. Your body language may be slow and deliberate–you do tend to take your time with things. You may also come across as reliable, sensual, patient, down-to-earth & not easily phased.  Others also notice your good taste & appreciation for beauty.
GEMINI Rising or Chart Ruler
If you’re a Gemini rising, the first things people notice about you are your curiosity, your expressive face, bright sparkly eyes, quick movements, and youthful appearance/demeanor–regardless of your age. You tend to come across as communicative & versatile. People may see you as witty, sociable, full of energy & as a great conversationalist.
CANCER Rising or Chart Ruler
As a Cancer rising, you exude warmth & sensitivity. On a physical level, people notice your soft features & expressive/watery eyes that convey deep emotions. Your body language tends to be inviting, often making others feel comfortable & cared for. Personality-wise, you come across as empathetic & intuitive. People perceive you as someone who is compassionate, protective & family-oriented. Your mannerisms are gentle, and you have a calming presence, which leaves a lasting impression of kindness and gentleness.
LEO Rising or Chart Ruler
With Leo rising, you make a first impression that radiates confidence & charisma. People tend to notice your commanding presence, royal & magnetic energy, warm smile or feline eyes. You come across as enthusiastic & generous–someone who is vibrant, outgoing & exudes a natural leadership quality. Your self-assuredness & flair for the dramatic make you stand out in any crowd. But ultimately, it’s your ability to light up a room that leaves a lasting impression on others.
VIRGO Rising or Chart Ruler
Virgo rising tends to be noticed for their meticulousness, refined, clean-cut appearance, defined facial features & precision. Your demeanor is often composed, with an air of understated elegance. Personality-wise, you come across as analytical, thoughtful, practical, reliable & detail-oriented. There's also a quiet intelligence & humility about you that makes others feel at ease. What really drives the lasting impression you make on others is your ability to offer practical advice, your attentive nature, competence & dependability.
LIBRA Rising or Chart Ruler
Being a Libra rising, the first impression you leave on others is characterized by charm, diplomacy or tactfulness. People often notice your attractive & harmonious appearance, with symmetrical features & a graceful demeanor. Your body language is elegant & makes you stand out, plus your refined sense of style draws others in. People may see you as someone who is friendly, cooperative, approachable & skilled at creating harmony in social situations. 
SCORPIO Rising or Chart Ruler
Scorpio risings tend to exude intensity and magnetism. Your penetrating eyes, which seem to look deep into people’s soul, are one of the key physical features that make you stand out. Others may also notice your strong, powerful & enigmatic presence. People see you as someone who is deeply intuitive, determined, occasionally secretive or intense. Overall there’s an aura of mystery/emotional complexity about you that intrigues others.
SAGITTARIUS Rising or Chart Ruler
With Sagittarius rising, people perceive you as optimistic and enthusiastic. Physically, people often notice your open, friendly body language & facial expressions, with sparkling eyes and a broad smile that radiates warmth & positivity. Personality-wise, you come across as outgoing and adventurous. The key traits others notice is that you are someone who is open-minded & constantly seeking new experiences. There's also a sense of expansiveness about you that makes others feel inspired & uplifted.
CAPRICORN Rising or Chart Ruler
Capricorn rising tends to be perceived as reliable, wise beyond their years and reliable. One of the first things people notice about you is your serious & composed/calm demeanor or your mature appearance. People see you as someone who is hardworking, practical, and determined to achieve your goals. Overall, you’re surrounded by an aura of competence & authority about you that commands respect. The first impression you leave is of personal strength & dependability.
AQUARIUS Rising or Chart Ruler
Aquarius risings tend to exude an air of reliability & seriousness. Others tend to notice your distinct appearance, with features that stand out or a style that reflects your individuality. You may have an air of detachment or aloofness, but when people get to know you better, they discover how forward-thinking, wise & often ahead of your time you actually are. Your demeanor is often calm, which perfectly reflects your analytical nature (air sign). In other words, you leave a lasting impression of intelligence & of being highly independent!
PISCES Rising or Chart Ruler
As a Pisces rising, the key traits people first notice and appreciate are your empathy & dreaminess. Others often notice your gentle, expressive eyes that seem to reflect deep emotions, as well as your soft & ethereal appearance. Your body language flows like water & adds to your otherworldly charm. In terms of personality, you come across as compassionate, intuitive, artistic, or lost in  your imagination. There's also an aura of mysticism & kindness about you that draws others in.
˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
Understanding your rising sign and chart ruler can help you become more aware of the energy you emit, allowing you to leverage how you are viewed by others. Grab your pen & notebook and let's get started!
🌟I explore this topic in-depth on Youtube. If you're excited to learn what to expect, tap the play button!
˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
youtube
˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
Thank you for taking the time to read my post! Your curiosity & engagement mean the world to me. I hope you not only found it enjoyable but also enriching for your astrological knowledge. Your support & interest inspire me to continue sharing insights & information with you. I appreciate you immensely. • 🕸️ JOIN MY PATREON for exquisite & in-depth astrology content. You'll also receive a free mini reading upon joining. :) • 🗡️ BOOK A READING with me to navigate your life with more clarity & awareness.
˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
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janeyseymour · 6 months
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She
an anon requested this song fic based on Dodie's song. It's a really beautiful song about longing... and i attached is my own cover of the song if you'd like to hear my version of it :)
WC: ~2.6k
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From the first day you began working at Abbott, you knew Melissa Schemmenti was an ethereal being. She was perfect- stunningly gorgeous, hilarious and quick witted, fiercely protective of those who she cared about- never one to back down from a challenge or threat that presented itself. And somehow you wormed your way into her heart- you still don’t really know why or how. 
Apparently, you were the absolute opposite of someone who would find themselves interacting with Melissa. You were just… you. You were young. You were positive and fun-loving, coming in with your hair done up nicely and always wearing something that had flowers on it. You were far from the blazers and jackets that she wore, but also just as far from the leather that she was usually clad in- your style was more Janine-esque. And oh how she loved to make fun of her colleagues outfit choices most days with her big skirts and ill-fitting sweaters, the clogs and shoes that didn’t have laces. The difference between you and Janine was that your clothes were shaped to your body, showing off your figure instead of hiding it- you wonder if that’s why she doesn’t make comments about your bright and sunny disposition.
But she liked having you around- she made it a point to keep you close to her during staff meetings, lunches, and outside of school- going as far as letting you come over for dinner and making you various meals.
And after so much time spent with the redheaded woman who loved to play hard and tough but was actually one of the sweetest souls, you find that you’ve developed feelings for her. The more time you spend with her though, it makes it harder and harder to mask and keep under wraps. Because she means everything to you, but you doubt she’ll ever know that. And oddly, you find that to be okay because you would rather have her in your life as a friend than as nothing at all. 
——
But are you allowed to look at her like that? Could it be so wrong when she’s just so nice to look at?
You’ve had ample time to look at Melissa- she’s always sitting next to you or across from you if you’re at her house. You would be lying if you said that you never stole a glance at her figure- it’s killer. But what really draws you in is her face and the way that she is so expressive with everything she does. Her eyes light up when she’s happy, and the way that she scrunches up her nose when she finds something so delightfully adorable melts your heart. The redhead’s smile is radiant, and you swear it could light up even the biggest of cities all on its own. And when she’s sad, you see the way that her usually sparkly emerald eyes dull just slightly in disappointment or regret. It’s in the way that she bites her lip subconsciously when she’s hesitant or nervous about something. 
“What’s got you dancing in here?” you ask as your eyes take a glance at the redhead’s voluptuous figure. Your eyes quickly flit up to her face though, and her eyes are brighter than usual, and you love the way that her smile meets her eyes.
“Just a good day,” she grins at you. “My cousin lost a bet, so I don’t have to make dinner tomorrow night!”
“Oh?” you raise a brow.
Melissa nods. “So, we’s getting Vin’s hoagies tomorrow. You’re still set to come over, right?”
“You know it,” you chuckle back. “As long as you promise I ain’t gonna get sick off ‘em.”
“You won’t. Half those reviews are full of shit.”
-
She doesn’t look thrilled coming into the break room for lunch today. Her eyes are dull, and there just isn’t the same pep in her step that there usually is when she sees you. She sits down quietly at her designated seat, keeping her head down and her mouth shut. She hardly touches her lunch that day.
“What’s got you down, Red?”
“I’m fine,” Melissa blinks quickly a few times. She tries to bring back the sparkle 
in her eyes, but it’s lacking. And it’s still lacking come the end of the day when the two of you walk out together.
“C’mon,” you say softly. “Tell me what’s going through that pretty head of yours.”
She sighs. “I think I have to break it off with Gare.”
“Oh?” you raise a brow as you adjust the strap to your backpack.
“It’s just not working out anymore,” she says quietly. “He wants more than I can give him now, and maybe ever.”
You reach out and take her hand gently. “I’m here if you need support.”
“Thanks,” she says through a sad smile as she squeezes your handle gently before dropping it.
——
And she smells like lemongrass and sleep, she tastes like apple juice and peach.
Your phone rings to life at the ripe hour of one in the morning. There is your favorite coworker’s smiling face; and with you knowing what she was going to do earlier in the evening, you answer.
“Mel?” you ask, trying not sound as though you weren’t just in one of the deepest slumbers of your life.
“Please… come over.”
“Are you okay?” you ask her softly as you pull the covers back and slip on the sneakers by your bed.
You hear her sniffle. “Not really… no.”
“I’ll be there in ten,” you promise her.
And you are. Without the hustle and bustle of the city to detour you, you’re able to pull up to her townhouse in just seven minutes. When she opens the door, you can immediately smell the scent of lemongrass that is coming from the diffuser over in the corner, and she looks exhausted- as if she’s just woken up herself. But she’s also holding a glass of wine, so you really don’t know what you’re walking into. 
“Mel?”
“I- I thought I was fine. I was drinking some of the apple wine that you know I like and I dozed off on the couch. When I woke up… it hit me that I’m- I’m single again,” she whispers. “I don’t want to be alone right now.”
“Okay,” you reply just as softly as her. “That’s okay. I’m here to keep you company.”
She nods as you reach for the bottle of peach wine that she keeps for you at her house. After she’s finished off the apple wine, she pours herself a glass of the peach.
The two of you begin to spend much more time together now that she doesn’t have to go out with Gary for dinners and for various events that his company would invite him to.
——
Oh you would find her in a polaroid picture.
Since her breakup with Gary, you and Melissa have been joined at the hip. It makes her feel less lonely, and you don’t mind being able to spend time with the woman that you’ve realized is essentially the woman of your dreams.
The two of you are currently out thrift shopping when you come across an old polaroid camera. You pick it up with wonder in your eyes. Melissa comes up behind you with a smile dancing across her lips.
“You should get it,” she says quietly. “It’s cheap, and it’s definitely vintage at this point.”
One of the people working there sees that you’re interested in the device and makes her way over. “It’s got a roll in there too. Works nice. We tried it out when it got here.”
You grin, keeping it in your hands. When the two of you leave the store, the camera stays safely nestled around your neck. 
It’s a rather sunny day out, so the redhead has her sunglasses on and looks like she’s practically glowing. Without her noticing, because she’s walking across the street, you snap a picture of her. The Polaroid comes out, and you dry it quickly as you catch up with her before looking at it. 
Yeah, she belongs in that polaroid picture. When you show it to her, she rolls her eyes. But then she gestures for you to take another. You hold the camera up to your eye, and she rolls those striking green eyes again.
“With you in it, ya goof,” she instructs.
Your lips form into a small ‘O’ before you take it off your neck and face the lens so that you’re both hopefully in the frame. She playfully pretends as if she’s kissing your cheek when you do snap the photo. The film comes out, you dry it, and when you look at it… wow. Your heart swells, and she looks at it in approval as well. 
It stays on your fridge. 
——
She means everything to me.
She just does. It’s that simple. She’s Melissa Schmmenti, and you would be a fool for not seeing her for the absolutely goddess-like woman that she is.
——
I’d never tell. No, I’d never say a word. And oh, it aches. But it feels oddly good to hurt.
You would never, ever tell her of the feelings that you’ve developed for her. Not after she’s been so upset about breaking it up with Gary. Besides, you know she says things like ‘decisive women are hot’ but what does that really mean in the grand scheme of it all? And even if she was attracted to women, who’s to say she’s attracted to you- that you’re her type at all?
And somehow, you’re okay with not telling her of your feelings. Because at least you’re lucky enough to have the woman in your life. If you were to confess your feelings and then she was never into you, it would crush you. You wouldn’t want to lose her forever. So, you hurt in silence. And it feels oddly good to hurt over this one- because at least she’s there.
——
And I’ll be okay, admiring from afar, cause even when she’s next to me, we could not be more far apart.
You sit outside of your classroom for your preps most days, responding to emails and grading papers, because you like the change of scenery. It doesn’t hurt that you usually get to see Melissa Schemmenti roaming the halls to chat with her work wife or with any of your coworker friends.
You can always smell her and hear her before you can see her, the lingering scent of lemongrass and clacking of her heeled shoes letting you know that she’s on her way down the hall. When she passes, you smile up at her. She smiles back, giving you a gentle wave, before continuing down the hall towards her classroom.
Sometimes she brings her own things out to work with you- or at least next to you. But you’re still worlds apart. Her single days now consist of going out and staying out to forget about all her problems, while you enjoy the warmth of your home. She tells you about the different people that she meets out at the bars and how they’re good company at the time, but she’s not destroyed when she parts ways with them. You know deep down that you won’t be out at the bars trying to pick anyone else up anytime soon- not as long as your feelings for the redhead are as strong as they are.
——
Cause she tastes like birthday cake, and storytime, and fall. But to her, I taste of nothing at all.
Coworker birthdays usually mean birthday cakes, gatherings, and just enjoying the company of each other. And at the beginning of the school year, your birthday falls on a Saturday. So naturally, you surround yourself with those that you love- your coworkers. Your parents are too far away, you don’t necessarily have friends around here. So, the Abbott crew is at your townhouse, happily sitting outside and enjoying the last of the Summer air with a few beers in hand before the crisp Fall air pushes in.
Melissa had taken it upon herself to make your birthday cake this year, and it’s perfect. It’s absolutely divine, and you can’t help but watch as she eats her own creation. She knows its damn good- you can see her smirk as the others praise her baking. 
As night falls, the cool air sneaks in, and you’re reminded that Fall is just around the corner. And as the moonlight, along with the streetlights out front, light up your backyard, stories begin to come out of times before you had joined the Abbott crew.
Barbara tells you all of how her and Melissa came friends, Mr. Johnson tells stories that you take with a grain of salt but deep down now that there are little bits of truth sprinkled into his tall tales. Melissa lets all of you know that compared to when she started, y’all are soft.
You hang onto her every word, and she looks to you occasionally, but her eyes mostly stay on her work wife as she reminisces about what she claims to be the good ol’ days.
Those tales that haunt the halls of Abbott somehow turn to other stories that don’t revolve around Abbott.
Compared to some of the other people in her life, you realize, you mean nothing to her at all. 
——
And she smells like lemongrass and sleep. She tastes like apple juice and peach. You would find her in a polaroid picture. And she means everything to me. Yes, she means everything to me. She means everything to me.
As your sitting on your couch alone on a Friday night, you stand to get some more wine from the fridge. Hanging on the metal box is that sweet picture of the two of you that you took on your polaroid. The other picture of just her is hanging there as well, as much as she tells you its ridiculous for you to have it hanging there- but you can’t help admiring her beauty. 
Just as your about to sit back down and dig into yet another mindless binge watch of your favorite television show, the doorbell rings.
It’s late, so you don’t answer- pretending to be asleep.
“It’s Mel, and I know you’re still awake,” you hear her voice call.
You make your way over to the door and open it. She looks… well she looks as beautiful as ever with her hair tied up messily and clad in her Eagles apparel, but she also looks beyond exhausted. But she’s here.
“You okay?” you open the door as you invite her in. Her smell lingers as she brushes past you, two bottles of wine in hand.
“I can’t sleep, as much as I tried, and I knew my favorite night owl would still be awake,” she tells you as she settles on your couch. She opens the first bottle- one that has hints of apple. Then she opens the other- a peach wine.
“You brought peach wine?” you raise a brow.
“I know it’s your favorite,” she shrugs. “What are we watching tonight?”
As the night continues on, you stay awake. But her head falls gently on your shoulder as she gives in to her exhaustion and is taken away into a dream- unable to stay awake with you and watch the world pass by in a gentle silence. 
You glance down at her. The frown lines or smile lines that are usually in her face are gone as she’s completely relaxed against you. Her warmth makes your heart swell. And she… she does mean everything to you- even if she’ll never know it. 
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zepskies · 1 year
Note
Imagine soldier boy with dating a supe with siren powers 🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️
Oooh this is different! Thanks for the ask, hun. ❤️ In honor of The Little Mermaid live-action dropping on Disney+ last week...
(Here's one last Soldier Boy imagine before Part 1 of Smoke Eater!)
Pairing: Soldier Boy x F. Supe!Reader Word Count: 800
Imagine: Soldier Boy dating a supe with "siren" abilities. 🧜‍♀️
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When you joined Payback, Ben was ambivalent about you.
You were hot as fuck, sure, but he didn't think the team needed another woman.
Crimson Countess was bitch enough to deal with.
But you were a bit mysterious. You kept to yourself, didn't go out of your way to socialize or train with the others. You were smart.
Though when he heard about your powers, he was skeptical at best. Stan Edgar assured him you were what the team needed right now, in terms of margins and demographics and what-fucking-ever...
Until he hears you singing in the break room, softly to yourself while you make some coffee. Gentle, beautiful dulcet tones that manage to draw his steps into the kitchen.
You eventually notice him with a smile. "Good morning."
He gives you a charming grin, blatantly eying you from head to toe.
"Hey there, sweetheart. Pour me a cup, would ya?" he asks, in a tone that demands.
You do so, and he admires the sweet sound of your voice as you continue to hum to yourself.
"You're a little crooner, aren't you?" he asks, taking the cup of coffee from you. But when your hand brushes his, he feels it. Your power. It threatens to overtake him and draw him into you, where he craves your warmth as well as your body.
He wants you to devour him, body and soul...
Your eyes glow violet along with your knowing smile.
Then you blink. The violet haze is gone, along with your hold on his mind. You go back to sipping your coffee as if nothing had just happened.
Ben visibly falters, having to catch his breath as his mind reels from the loss of connection.
Ben frowns in irritation. What the fuck just fucking happened?
He looks at you harder than before. Secretly, he's annoyed and intrigued at the same time.
He demands to know your name. You tell him with a smile that edges at flirtation. When you ask for his name, despite knowing full well who he is, he smirks.
"Call me Ben."
And from there, he's fucking hooked.
He pursues you relentlessly. You allow it with coyness and flirtation -- push and pull. Hot and cold. You toy with him, which both infuriates him and draws him in even more.
Until you finally allow him to "catch" you. He takes you out for dinner, one of the finest, most expensive restaurants in New York. Bottles of wine, premier service, excellent food and music. You realize then that he's really trying to impress you, and inside you're actually flattered that he's doing all this, when he can have his pick of anyone. (And has had his pick. Several of them.)
You've heard so many stories about him, most of them unpleasant. You see the disgusted looks Crimson Countess gives him when he's not looking.
And you know you haven't yet seen the darker sides of Ben. (You know he's trying his damndest to charm you, draw you in. But your abilities allow you to discern when men are trying to manipulate you. You are the master manipulator, spinning them along with your touch and your voice).
But you're also intrigued by this man. He's more than his bravado would suggest. When the cameras and the press and the rest of the team aren't around, he's not quite so insufferable. You find his arrogance, partnered with his charm, amusing. But it's also become somewhat endearing.
The truth is, he's actually...sort of grown on you. And that's probably the real reason you're here on a date with him.
You lean over and rest your hand over his, frowning when he seems a bit wary of your touch.
The first time you met him, you'd just been teasing him. You'd heard how he'd been talking shit about you to Stan, doubting if you were really powerful enough to be on the team. But now, he's stiff under your hand, prepared to fortify his mind against you.
"I won't compel you again, Ben. I promise," you tell him. Your hand travels up his arm, soothing along his neck, your palm finally resting against his cheek. His green eyes stare into yours.
Soon enough, his wariness bleeds away.
He hooks a foot around the leg of your chair and draws you closer, making you yelp in surprise.
He smirks, finally getting the jump on you for a change as he wraps an arm around your waist and brings you close.
You blink in surprise, looking up at his handsome face with wide eyes. A blush dusts your cheeks, warming your face. His smirk softens around the edges, just a little, and he takes his chance to capture your lips in a searing kiss.
And maybe, you're the one who's caught.
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AN: Aww, this one was really fun! Thanks for the request. 😘
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tickettride · 16 days
Text
I’ve just seen a face || J.D.
𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔
pairing is johnny davis x f!reader
in which the man you've been staring at all night long at a party meets you in the kitchen, and suggests to walk you out where it's safer. the only danger is not being able to stop kissing him.
word count: 2k
warnings: 18+ (mdni), alcohol, mention of weed, men being creeps, smoking, sexual tension, kissing and a touch of fluff?, "girls are prettier without glasses" speech (ugh), maybe a few mistakes and nonsense
AN: I can’t believe I've spent a whole afternoon on this. anyway, this is a gift for myself as I’ve spent my first day at my dream college, and I’m the happiest I’ve ever been. And yes, I love very long gifs.
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The only way to get rid of a temptation is to yield to it. Resist it, and your soul grows sick with longing for the things it has forbidden to itself, with desire for what its monstrous laws have made monstrous and unlawful. — The Picture of Dorian Gray
 
Johnny’s lips hovered over yours, mixing his warm breath with your shaky exhales. You had never felt so connected to another human being before. Never felt your soul leaving your body that way. And here you were now, nose-to-nose with a man you didn't even know.
A deep, unwavering sexual tension had tethered you to Johnny for hours. Even since you had stepped into the house, actually. It had been hard to see right through the smoke, even more since you had decided to ditch your glasses for the night, just for the experience. Well, it had been a fucking mistake. All the faces were blurry, and you swore you introduced yourself twice to the same people, all of them hoisting their beer and exchanging looks you didn't quite understand.
It doesn’t matter, your friends told you. They won’t remember anything the next morning. You supposed it was a relief, to think people would forget about you in just a few hours. At least until you saw that guy who had been standing in a corner the whole time. 
No, not a guy. A real man, with broad shoulders and a certain way of carrying himself. Even from across the room, you knew he was respected.
It had taken you longer than necessary to reach the kitchen behind a group of wobbly men, bumping into shoulders and apologizing inaudibly. Someone talked to you but you barely paid any attention, giving a small "okay" instead as you focused on getting to the kitchen in one piece.
Rubbing your eyelid tiredly, you nearly scratched your eye out when a hand closed around your wrist, though it felt warm and gentle.
“Hey.”
The man from the corner was looking down at you, worry flickering in his eyes. So close to you, he was even more handsome. Full lips, a face that carried memories. Clearly, he had seen a lot.
“Ya need help?”
“No?” You dragged the syllable, confused as you shot a look at your friends. The three of them had crashed on a couch, their loud laughter drawing attention. You might have looked drunk though, you gave him that. “I’m just headin’ for the kitchen. Gotta drink some water before I start feelin’ all…”
Your vague hand motion made his lips twitch in amusement, which pulled a smile to your lips too. It slightly faded when he removed his hand from you, and you turned back around.
So he had noticed you.
A strong scent of alcohol and weed burned your nostrils when you walked over to the sink, your eyes sweeping over the room to find where the glasses were stocked. Littered cups filled with some sort of alcohol mix had your nose wrinkled up at the smell, wondering what was wrong with those people. Did they really enjoy drinking this? Finally, stacked glasses that seemed clean enough caught your eyes.
And now that same man was standing at the threshold.
“I’m old enough to be left on my own, y'know," you said sarcastically, almost nervous to be left alone with him. Was he one of the creeps? Or just a man bored to death?
In response, he nodded like you had made a great point. “Just don’t want ya to feel unsafe, is all.”
You shrugged, retrieving a glass, checking it was somewhat clean, and filling it with water. “I know how to throw a punch. I've been taught the basics.”
“Show me, then.”
The three words made your heartbeat faster. With your free hand, you closed your fist, barely thinking. 
“Nah. Ya’d break your thumb like that.”
Your gaze flitted to your hand for a second. “Yeah. Probably.”
Another nod was addressed to you, and a moment of silence wrapped you both in a comfortable bubble. You drank the water silently while he kept his eyes on you, which would have looked truly odd did he not seem safe. He looked exhausted, though. Maybe a bit entertained. Maybe like he’d been waiting for someone like you to light up his evening.
“I’m Johnny.”
You gave your name back, watching his smile that definitely shouldn’t have caused a hot nudge in your lower body, considering he would surely move on from you the next day.
Still, the tension choked you as he stepped further into the room, picking up a bottle of beer in a bucket. Your hand tightened against the glass when you opened your mouth to ask where he was from–the usual small talk you used when silence made you uneasy–and instantly closed it as two bearded men barged in, ruining the moment.
“I say, "You ain’t goin’ nowhere, motherfucker",” the first one spat, waving a gun in the air. “I captured you.”
Swallowing thickly at the sight of the small handgun, you set the glass back down into the sink and glanced over at Johnny. Your senses returned to you enough to do some calculations. From what you could see, you could slip beside him and make your way back to your friends swiftly. But those two creeps had spotted you, standing there like an outsider or just a woman, and nerves started filling your body as you hyped yourself up to take the few steps toward freedom. There was no way you were staying there to risk being shot accidentally. What a stupid end that would make.
Johnny’s brow furrowed at those guys and back at you, sensing your discomfort. He tipped the drink to his mouth, taking a long sip as you took a deep breath. 
“I think I’ll head out,” you announced quietly, ignoring the men’s hot gazes on your back.
It was a shame to leave so fast, but maybe you just weren’t meant to be talking to Johnny. You believed in all that stuff fiercely.
Johnny’s head turned around, watching behind him before meeting your eyes again. “I can’t see your friends.”
“Oh, they must be smokin’ somewhere out there.”
Giving a small nod, he stepped closer to you and left his beer near the sink. “I’ll walk ya out.”
You cleared your throat, trying to alleviate the lump forming from the thoughts racing through your brain. His hand settled on your lower back as he guided you to the back door, and you didn’t think once. Perhaps you'd finally have that time alone with him, after all. He didn’t look like he wanted to leave either.
The cold breeze hit you in the face as you squinted through the darkness, praying hard not to fall or trip or do anything embarrassing in front of him. And that was exactly what you did. The couple of stairs were poorly lighted, and there was only one idiot to miss that one step. You.
“Shit,” you stumbled, chuckling awkwardly when you felt Johnny’s hand on your waist, making sure you were not collapsing.
“Alright?”
“Yeah,” you replied quickly, unable to stop yourself from smiling. 
Maybe it was his big hands on you, or maybe it was just the one beer you had drunk, but the wind seemed less cold, less aggressive on your skin. God, he looked so... attractive.
A small smile graced his lips as he gazed down at you, almost checking you out. “Should’ve slowed down on the beers.”
Another giggle escaped your lips, trying not to shrink under his gaze. “It’s not about the beers, promise. I just can’t see nothin’ without my glasses.”
“You lost ‘em?” Johnny asked, a wrinkle appearing between his brows. 
“No. Um… I’ve been told girls are prettier without glasses.”
He made a sound. Kept frowning. That was your cue to blabber on. 
“Not that I found myself… unattractive. I just thought I could try one night without wearin' them. Which was really stupid, considerin’ I’ve almost died at least twice.”
You pursued your lips as you caught a whiff of his scent on his leather jacket, willing yourself to shut up and flee. As you were supposed to. And yet, as dumb as you sounded, Johnny’s eyes were fixed on yours and did not leave for a moment. He was listening carefully, blocking out the world to hear your silly explanation. 
“You’re not unattractive,” he said in a low voice. "I bet they make ya look even prettier."
“How would you know?” your tone matched his, your blood heating another degree. 
Johnny came closer, raising his hands to run his thumbs above your cheeks, where your glasses usually fell. His eyes were ringed with dark circles, but they were beautiful. Dark. Full of fantasies. 
“Just imaginin’,” his raspy voice sent a hot shiver down your spine. "I've been lookin' at ya since you walked in, but I hadn’t noticed those freckles right there."
Your heart hammered in your chest. It was all going so fast, but the mere thought of slowing things down was absurd. You couldn’t think of anything but feeling his lips on yours. Moving your body with his. Feeling so wanted he might die, and you as well. You usually were careful and rather shy when it came to flirting, but why would you resist the temptation now?
The party didn’t matter. The people out there didn’t matter. Hell, even your friends didn’t matter. It was only you and the man you had checked out (ogled) all night, the man who had made sure you were feeling safe, the man who had caught you in his arms like they did in the movies. 
It did feel like a movie anyway. None of this felt real. 
“I can’t see much, but you look pretty attractive too,” you dared to say, though you wished you had sounded bolder. 
His lips nearly touched yours. The top of your noses did, causing you to chuckle. What was even happening?
“See me better now?” Johnny muttered, angling his face.
"Much better."
"Good."
You had known a few men, kissed a few of them, but nothing had ever come close to this particular moment. Nothing had ever felt so exciting, so hot and passionate. You didn’t want him to forget you. Fuck, you were sure you would think of these minutes until your last breath. You needed to have him, even for a short moment.
Nose-to-nose with a man you didn't even know.
“Johnny?”
“Mmm?”
“I’m gonna kiss you now.”
Emboldened by his widening smile, you closed what little distance was left between your mouths and pressed a soft kiss against his lips, just testing the waters. You hadn’t expected it to feel that good. Like a taste of heaven. Gripping his shoulders, you drew yourself high against his chest and slipped your tongue into his mouth, a tiny sound mixing with a groan of his. His hands pressed against your back, holding your waist like a fragile doll as yours slid to the back of his head. Fuelled by the need to make him moan again, you wrapped both arms up around his neck until you were shamelessly making out on the grass, wishing he could do something to alleviate the burning in your body. It was bewitching.
You were out of breath when you landed on your feet again, as though you had just taken a trip to the stars for a minute. Clearly, Johnny was as dazed as you were. 
Looking over his shoulder, you found no less than ten faces peering out the window, and a couple more watching from the front porch. Smoking. You bet your friends had seen it all. 
“Shit,” you whispered, at a loss for words. 
Johnny ran his thumb over your lip, his eyes tracing his own movements as he did. ‘Tell me where ya live.”
Forgetting everything about the safety rules you had always followed when it came to men, you whispered, “Next to the shoe store. I work there on weekends.”
The detail had slipped out, but you just wished he would suggest picking you up someday. Don’t let him forget you, your brain kept saying. You couldn’t be anticipating the saddest goodbye of your life yet.
“You’re workin’ tomorrow?”
A bit of hope flickered in your chest. Men usually fucked off after getting what they wanted, but he seemed really into you. That was unreal.
“Tomorrow’s Friday,” you grinned playfully, chuckling as he nodded. 
"Tomorrow’s Friday," Johnny repeated, realizing his mistake. "Guess I don’t wanna spend one day waitin’ to see ya again."
“Me either,” you admitted lowly, removing a strand of hair sticking to your lips. “You can—you can still come on Saturday, if you want to.”
“You’ve been on a motorcycle before?” 
You shook your head, wondering why you felt so bashful all of a sudden. Johnny’s lips curved at your hesitancy, holding your gaze for a moment. His eyes full of promises again.
“Hmm. Ya should leave before I keep ya out here with me,” he declared, snapping you out of your thoughts as he squeezed your hip gently and stepped backward. 
And with that, the moment was gone.
“Saturday, then?” you asked, just to make sure. 
You sounded almost desperate, but you couldn’t care. There was something scary about being so attracted to someone so fast. What if a simple change of heart left you heartbroken?
“Saturday,” Johnny confirmed, making it sound like it was years away. 
You dropped your gaze for a second and raised it again to look at him one last time, the steadying sounds of your breathings filling the cold air. Johnny broke the eye-contact to check that your friends were still standing in the distance.
“Ya need help walkin’ over there?”
The question made you smile. “I’ll be alright. I’ll try to walk in a straight line and avoid people."
Johnny’s stare could have been a good reason to stay with him and let him keep you, but after a second of hesitancy, you willed yourself to utter a small ‘Well, see you, then’. You made a beeline to your friends, blinking a couple of times as though your vision would become clear again. 
You shot one look behind. Johnny was waiting for you to reach the others, not moving.
They all shouted in your ear when you stepped on the tiled floor, but you weren’t listening. Just thinking of how fast it all could change when you least expected it. You weren't fully sure he'd really show up in two days, so you crossed your fingers during the whole ride back home and hoped he wouldn't forget. You were already longing for this man’s touch.
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starker-raving-mads · 6 months
Text
After School Alpha
Summary: Omega Peter had a bad day at school and Alpha Tony is going to make it better.
Rating: Mature
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"I can't - I'm just - ugh," Peter flops onto the couch, reeking of distress and upset.
The moment the little omega had come into the lab Tony knew something was up. His protégé was normally bubbly, excitable, almost uncontrollably hyper, but today the teen had been quiet and, if Tony dared name an emotion over it, sad. The alpha figured he'd give the boy some space to work out whatever it was that was going on in his head but after a sharp clatter of tools a minute ago he'd carelessly asked, 'you okay, kid?'
Which resulted in Peter tripping over his words before planting himself face-first onto the couch in the corner of the lab.
The alpha tried - and failed, drastically - not to notice the tight curve of the younger man's spine where it rose to his ass when he walked over to that corner of the room. He simply couldn't help it; Peter was everything in an omega that Tony's craved: beautiful, incredibly smart, submissive - but only to an extent - and with the most compact little body it made his mouth water.
He tried not to think about this as he laid one hand over the younger man's waist in comfort, crouching down to the side of the couch. Petting down his spine, he released soothing alpha pheromones, letting his scent pervade the little space and draw the omega out of the shell he'd mentally crawled into.
"C'mon, kid," he rumbled. "I know you're not that upset over anything happening with your project over there. What's up?"
Peter shuffled until his face was turned toward Tony, the rest of him still firmly planted between the billionaire's hand and the couch. His eyes were round and as doe like as ever, but the tilt in his brow screamed small and soft and sad. Tony's heart broke at it and he took his free hand and ran his fingers over the creases and frown lines until Peter's face lay smoothed out and more tranquil than it had been all afternoon.
"It's stupid," the teenager muttered, pressing his face into Tony's hand, rubbing at it with his cheek like a cat begging for pets. The older man barely withheld a chuckle at the action and instead ran his fingers through Peter's soft, fluffy curls.
"It can be stupid and still suck," Tony replied, tugging at a loose strand of hair. It made Peter arch his neck in a way that showed off his mating gland and oh there were those feelings he was trying more and more to tamp down. It was one thing to want to fuck a pliant little omega like Peter, but a whole other thing to want to claim him, mate him, breed him full of Stark pups.
Tony was a dirty old alpha and he really didn't need the reminder of what he couldn't - shouldn't - have.
"It's just - " Peter started before sighing and closing his eyes. A moment later they opened back up again and stared right through Tony's soul. "You probably don't wanna hear this especially from me but," the kid swallowed before his face firmed up in resolution. "I love you, Mr. Stark, and it just really, really sucks because you don't look at me like that and you don't have to - like I get it," he rolled his eyes at himself as though he wasn't actively sending every atom of Tony's existence into a supercollider, "I'm just some dumb kid you have to like babysit to make sure I don't die doing Spider-Man things. And - and," his voice hitched and wavered with building tears, "you're so kind to me like all the time like even right now and you take care of me and I can't help what I feel and - "
"Hey," Tony said softly, moving both hands to cradle Peter's face. "Shh, don't cry." He wiped away the tears that had built on the younger mans face with his thumbs, smoothing away the tracks until they were gone and he had a handful of soft, pretty omega.
"'M sorry, Mr. Stark," Peter hiccupped.
"There's nothing to be sorry about, kid," Tony shook his head, hands resuming their path of running through Peter's hair, soothing them both.
"I just don't wanna make you feel bad because of how I feel," Peter frowned. "I just didn't think I could hold it in any more after - after Flash said all that stupid stuff today about being a b-burden." Tony frowned and made a mental note to deal with whoever the hell this Flash kid was. "And even just telling you how I feel is gonna make it all awkward and - "
"Pete," Tony interrupted, every part of him finally aligning to do the one thing he's wanted to do for months. "You aren't a burden, kid, and you're not making anything awkward. You've got nothing to be sorry about."
"But - !" Peter started and Tony rolled his eyes playfully before ducking forward.
Their lips met in a kiss that was, without doubt, the best kiss Tony had ever given or received in his many years of life. Peter's lips were soft and plush, warm, and the scent of sour feelings and surprise quickly was overrun with arousal and pure unadulterated happiness. Almost immediately his delicate little throat let loose an omegan purr of contentment and Tony growled back, proud and possessive over the little thing in his arms.
He pushed himself until he was laying over the teenager, crowding him into the cushions of the couch, weighed down by Tony's larger, alpha form. Their kiss was turning from almost-innocent to downright sinful with their mouths opening, tongues pressing against each other in a dance as old as time.
Peter let out a little whine when Tony maneuvered them to where the younger mans legs were spread around Tony's hips and the alpha thrust down. He pulled back and let out a loud growl as he ground his hips into Peter's, the omega mewling out little sounds of pleasure. Pete tried to match the rhythm of Tony's grinding but was too inexperienced and blinded by pleasure to sync up so Tony ran a hand down to his hip and guided him.
"That's it, little omega," he panted, face pressed against Peter's mating gland as he breathed in the scent of happy, slick, yours. "Take what you need, sweetheart."
"Mr. - ah," Peter mewled, strong hands grasping at Tony's shoulders, hanging on for dear life. "Alpha, alpha, alpha," he panted, back arching as he finally found the right pace to rub his jean-clad cocklette and pussy over the bulge in Tony's slacks.
They both moaned when Tony's cock hooked into a slick indent in Peter's jeans and caused them to grind in place, the only thing stopping their coupling the barrier of their clothes.
"Pete," Tony panted, pressing the teens legs up and around to hook over his hips. He ground down again and again, the slick dripping from Peter's hole drenching his pants. He could feel it on his cock and the scent and knowledge of just how wet the kid was for him was driving him insane. "Fuck, so wet, baby. Is that all for me, huh, kid?"
"Yes - yes all for you, alpha," Peter panted, arching to allow Tony's cock to thrust deeper into the cradle of his thighs. He whined as his jeans stopped the older man from fucking too hard against him. "Need," he cried, tears of frustration gathering at the corners of his eyes. He was the prettiest thing Tony had ever seen.
"Can't - can't breed you yet, 'mega," Tony said, voice coming in huffs as he continued to thrust up into the sweet slick heat of Peter's most sensitive spot. Peter whined, long and low, his whole body begging to be breached and fucked and knotted. It pulled at Tony's heart and his knot started to swell like he was some teenaged pup ready to blow his load in his pants.
Might as well be, he thought, for all that Peter was driving him insane.
"Alpha, please," Peter cried. "Need - need - "
"Need alpha's cock?" Tony teased, rocking them together as tightly as he could. "Need to be bred, Petey?"
Peter let out a choked off moan as his head fell back, overwhelmed by the idea. "Yes, yes, yes," he agreed, rutting against Tony frantically. He was so close. "Need alpha's cock in me," he admitted, rushed, frantic. "Need his knot," he panted. Delirious with arousal and instinct, he said, "Wanna be bred full of his come, wanna give him - give him so many pups." He cut off with a moan when Tony thrust particularly viciously against his pussy.
For Tony's part, he was just as frantic with lust as Peter was. Hearing the omega, his omega beg for his knot, beg to be bred and become the mother of his pups was driving him insane. But he couldn't, not yet, wouldn't breed him until they were mated and they would be mated, he'd figure out a way how.
But until then -
He pulled back and Peter all but cried at the loss. "Shh, little omega," Tony said, hands moving to remove every piece of clothing covering his little mate. "It's okay, alpha's gonna take care of you." He threw Peter's shirt off first before his hands dexterously started unbuttoning and tugging down jeans and underwear.
"Please," Peter begged, legs colt-like and fumbling as he tried to help. Finally, he was completely naked before Tony's gaze and instead of covering himself like he always thought he might - the embarrassment of being naked a truly terrible thing - all he could think was to stretch out, spread out, show off for his alpha, his mate. Let him see what he owned and was about to mark up and make belong to him. He ran his hands over his flared hips and up to his flat chest, touching everywhere he wanted Tony to touch. "Please," he asked again, soft and full of want.
The billionaire leaned down again and kissed the teen full on the mouth, hands immediately roaming to everywhere he could touch. He tweaked the boy's nipples until he gasped, he ran calloused fingers over the sensitive flesh of his ribs and the soft skin of the inside of his thighs before finding his goal.
"Oh!" Peter exclaimed before dropping back into a deep moan.
Tony's fingers found the boy's cocklette and pussy and smoothed over the soft flesh with his hands before dipping a fingertip into his sopping went entrance. "Fuck," he grunted, Peter's hole was warm and more inviting than it had any right to be. "So fucking wet for me, baby," he said, dipping a second finger in when he realized how loose with arousal the boy was.
"All for you," Peter agreed, spreading his legs even wider, begging to be fucked by Tony's hand.
And fuck Tony did. He thrust both fingers fully into the boy who in turn let little ah, ah, ah noises as the alpha's fingers thrust in and out of him. He was already so incredibly close to coming it was insane.
"Please, alpha," he begged, grinding his hips down every time Tony thrust his thick fingers back into him. "Please, please, please."
"Gonna make you come, 'mega, don't you worry," Tony promised. His fingers were so drenched with slick it was amazing his hand hadn't just slid right out. And, god, thinking about all that hot liquid running over his knot was driving him insane. "C'mon now, pup," he said, crooking his fingers until Peter screamed. "Come for alpha, come on my hand, baby."
"Al - alphaaa," Peter cried, body tensing up and eyes rolling to the back of his head. He grabbed the arm of the couch behind his head and held on tightly as his orgasms crashed over him. He vaguely heard the snap of the wooden frame but truly could not care about it as waves upon waves of pleasure rushed over him.
Slowly, he came back down from his orgasm, feeling himself slumped against the couch cushions, crumbled couch arm held loose in his hand. He let go of the fabric and keened when he felt Tony swipe his whole hand up against Peter's pussy.
"Shh, Petey, just need - ah," the older man said. Peter cracked his eyes open to see Tony's cock finally free from his trousers and the older man's hand wrapped tight around it. His cock was glorious, thick and long and angry red at the tip, dripping precome as the billionaire wrapped his hand around it. He jacked himself off in quick, efficient strokes, the glide smooth with Peter's slick.
The teen shuddered, body trying and failing to rev back up because of the erotic image. Tony's eyes were trained between Peter's legs and, in a moment of confidence Peter didn't know he hand, the teen pulled the back of his thighs with both hands, tilting his hips and putting himself on full display for his alpha. "Fuck," Tony said, hips stuttering in their rhythm. He squeezed almost painfully tight against the knot at the base of his cock at then - hot streaks of come shot out, marking Peter from chest to pussy with wave after wave of alpha come. He let out an omegan purr again, happy and aroused and so fucking hot from the display of pure desire from his alpha.
After a few moments, both men had calmed down enough to clean up using one of the many rags from around the shop before curling up together on the couch. Peter, still naked, was pressed tightly against Tony's larger, warm form. For his part, Tony grabbed a blanket from the back of the couch and covered the both of them, wrapping his arms around his little mate.
"Gonna mate you, kid," he promised lowly, leaving a kiss to soft, brown curls.
"Oh, alpha," Peter sighed in contentment. He tucked his head against Tony's mating gland and laved it with his tongue, breathing in the happiness in the air.
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leonw4nter · 8 months
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Give Me A Star In The Sky and Promise To Be By My Side
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Knight!RE4R!Leon x Mermaid!F!Reader
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fluff, medieval setting, no use of super flowery words, mentions of death/dying (once or thrice i think)
SUMMARY : Leon's a knight in shining armor but he begs to differ because he swears God sent him an angel with a voice that outshines all that comes along with an even shinier mermaid tail.
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Fighting. Killing. Coming back alive when men you considered your brothers are dead. This is all something Leon is used to ever since the royal family has taken him in as their knight; no compensation, no amount of pay could ever repair the damage that fighting mutant horrors beyond human comprehension has done to him. He has lost it all– friends, family, and the will to live. He has considered ending this torment with a rope around his neck but he never could bring himself to do so; someone has to do the job because if he doesn’t, then who will? He takes a swig of the strongest whiskey he can get his bloodied hands on, hoping to drown his sorrows and dissolve the faint image of his comrade’s mangled body that lingered in his mind like a taunt that he will never rebuild his life again and one day, he too will die like this and there will be no loved one to grieve his death; no one to lay flowers on his grave, no grave to be paying respects to but as if there was ever anyone in his life to visit him in the first place. He did not think that he would be deserving of praise or recognition; no matter how many times he scrubs his hands clean, there would always be blood on them. He zones out, dead blue eyes focused on nothing in particular as the voices that taunt him grow louder and sound as if they’re doubling in number. The grip on his glass falters, fingers trembling as tears flood the waterline of his eyes. Forcing himself to get a grip, he refills the glass and takes another long swig as he lets the drink burn his throat.
God must certainly exist because it’s as if He saw Leon struggling to keep the voices at bay and decided to send down an angel to sing solely to overpower the demons with her powerful voice; Leon thinks that maybe God still has some compassion to spare for a rabid stray like him. Leon keeps his head down, trying to keep himself grounded as a euphonious voice begins to sway his soul and move him gently. He finally looks up and sees a singer on stage, clad in a beautiful red dress; the color red never fails to make Leon feel a twinge of betrayal and hurt but this red is a shade he will always associate with silencing the raging screams in his troubled mind.
The peace is interrupted when a group of drunken men stumble to the front of the stage, filthy hands reaching out to touch her legs. Her voice weakens and trembles slightly, eyes widened and darting to and fro from the audience and towards the men. Leon decides that this is enough and gets up from his seat, walking over to the front of the stage and grips the wrist of one man tightly but the man does not give up easily; punches thrown, glass shattered, and noses bloody, guests pour out of the club, leaving you and him alone. He tells you his name and you offer yours, both of you knowing full well this is not the last time you two will see each other again. With a small nod, he turns around and heads out the door to retire back to his quarters. Swiftly, you grab a cloak and run outside to follow him. He hasn’t wandered too far off from the club so manage to catch up to him, placing a hand on his back. As a small token of your thanks, you give him a mermaid scale. Drawing him a little nearer, you place the iridescent golden scale on the pocket of his gambeson and give it a safe little pat before pulling away.
“What was that for?” he asks, gaze falling to his pocket.
“It’s a thank-you from me. I feel the need to repay you for defending me so I decided to give you my scale.” you respond, a small smile on your lips.
“A fish scale?”
“Mermaid scale.”
“I’ve seen large, rare fish sold to merchants with scales like these but thank you, I guess. I just did what’s right.”
All the singer does is laugh and look up at him with sparkly eyes.
Leon tries not to hide the bewildered look in his face. Mermaids are not real, they’re simply manatees that explorers have misidentified but she seemed a little too kind and eager to express her thankfulness so he takes it, not saying another word. It wouldn’t hurt to keep around a rare fish’s scale so he decides against giving it back or throwing it away on his way to his quarters.
“I’ll see you around, Leon.” you respond before giving him a small bow and heading back in. He looks back at you once but you look back three times, incredibly grateful for such a man to have stepped in and done something about the harassment.
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Even after a few days of the charming singer giving him the scale, he still keeps it around and carries it with him everywhere. He doesn’t know why he does so but he just does, perhaps out of respect for the singer; maybe it’s in her culture to give a kind stranger something like that and he’s just respecting whatever customs she may have. Sometimes, he pulls the scale out and holds it up to the sun or whatever source of light there is to admire the scale. The scale is a lot thicker and bigger than the usual fish scale so he figures that it must have come from a bigger kind unknown to the region. He has also decided to frequent that club more, staying around not for alcohol alone but also the music; the club had two or three singers but out of all, he most preferred to hear you sing. You always looked radiant, making the room seem brighter than it is but whenever you spot him in the sea of spectators, he swears you seem to look a lot brighter. You two don’t talk, him being a man of few words and you being an introverted person but occasionally exchange glances that said enough. It is easy to admit that the man is attractive but she didn’t feel anything more than just the mere urge to offer the man some company and same goes with him yet there were times where he felt his heart thrum whenever he recalled the way the corners of your eyes wrinkled whenever you smiled, how your eyes squint first before a bright grin graces your red lips; the way your glossy hair would softly sway along to the song as if there were waves causing your hair to dance along to the melody. He found himself subconsciously looking around for any threat looming around to disrupt the peaceful atmosphere you have effortlessly created and to keep you safe, of course. He also began to cut back on the whiskey he always got, making sure he only limited himself to a number of glasses in order to stay sober so he could rush in and protect you fast if the situation arose.
This night, being in the club would stay in his imagination as he is sent to roam the forests for threats of those crazy cultists running around and planting parasite eggs around; news of livestock and villages from more rural portions of the kingdom reached the town, causing the king to raise alert levels within the kingdom’s line of defenses. The evening sky is dark, littered with shimmery dots of white and silver moonlight that beamed through tall and dark trees. The gale is cold, a refreshing contrast to the hot afternoon; the wind gently blows, as if caressing Leon’s body like he’s made of thin glass and gently ruffling his slightly unkempt blond hair. He’s not wearing his usual bulk of armor tonight, opting for white long sleeves and a black leather doublet over it; a belt to contain his sword and daggers hang on his waist, causing a faint clanking noise with each stride. Despite being tall and muscular, his footfalls were trained to be as light and noiseless as possible to keep him undetected when he was on duty. However, light footfalls are nothing when you fail to keep yourself guarded and fall prey to who you are supposed to be preying on. An assassin sneaks up from behind him and renders him immobile, a handkerchief damp with a sedative substance clamped over his mouth which causes him to lose his consciousness. The assassin holds his heavy body, pulling it to some place else to effectively keep him immobile. Blade belt removed, hands and ankles tied, a black cloth covering his eyes, the assassin lugs him to a cart used for the transport of the dead and takes on, disguising themselves as someone assigned to pick up bodies and send them to a burial ground in order to properly execute their mission.
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“Leon! Leon!,” Chris calls out. The man walks and looks around, his booming voice reverberating through the woods.
“Where in the hell is he,” he mumbles softly. Leon is someone who always knows the way and would always come back; he could be set to drift out at sea with a blindfold to his eyes and his arms constricted but he would always get back, no matter what.
“No sign of Leon anywhere,” Luis responds. Luis, one of the palace’s scholars, had been called over by Chris to ask him about Leon’s whereabouts. When Leon was not hanging around the barracks, he could be seen in Luis’ laboratory flipping through books or observing Luis’ notes.
“Ran off with a certain lady friend of his, perhaps?” he jokes, a failed attempt at making the situation lighter. Chris’ forehead creases with worry, fumbling around his pockets for a cigarette only to remember that he left it at his chambers. “So much for trying to quit.” he thinks to himself. They continue discussing where Leon could be, occasionally calling out his name every now and then, wading deeper into the forest. Suddenly, they hear a child’s helpless screaming. The screaming sounded a little more reverb, as if he was trapped somewhere.
“You hear that?” Luis asks, to which Chris nods.
“We’ll help you kid! Hold on!,” Luis exclaims as he and the other brunette set off to find the source of the noise.
“Help us! We’re in a well!” the kid exclaims. Luis raises an eyebrow at Chris; We? What did he mean by “we”? Could it be that Leon is with the kid too?
The pair rushes to the source of the sound, the child’s voice growing clearer and clearer with each speedy stride. Finally, a well comes into their view and they sprint towards the well. They peer down and see Leon, finally conscious but his head is tipped up for if not, he would sink below the water and drown. On his shoulder is the child, legs untied but hands bound together. His clothes are wet, cheeks deeply flushed from all the crying he’s done. The way they are positioned looks odd; the kid, despite being much much smaller than Leon, is standing with the water up until his ankles whilst Leon looks like he’s struggling to keep his head up and it occurs to them that he’s letting the kid stand on his shoulders to call out for help despite his weakened state.
“Don’t worry, we’ll get you chico!” Luis exclaims before scrambling off to find a rope, a vine– whatever they can use to get the kid and Leon out. Luckily, a portion of the rope was stuck on a stone that jutted out from the inside of the well and if Chris took a stick and brought a portion of the rope up, he could get them both out. Unfortunately, there wasn’t a stick sturdy enough to support the weight of a child but Luis piped up with an idea.
“Chico, can you jump for me?” Luis calls out. He smiles half-heartedly, trying to stir up some feelings of confidence in the kid.
“I’m going to need you to jump as high as you can and grab on to that stone,” he adds with a slender finger pointing to the stone that juts out.
“Think you can do that for me?”
The kid hesitates for a moment, looking down at Leon and back up. His bottom lip quivers and a look of fear flashes in his bright green eyes before shaking his head and breaking out into a new set of tears. A grunt could be heard coming from Leon, all his energy going into keeping his body up for the kid; he hasn’t even broken out of the ropes, more focused on getting the child out before himself.
Luis mutters something in Spanish and Chris considers shedding his armor to climb down and somehow try to get the kid and Leon himself, even if the odds are stacked up against everyone. Without warning, a yelp from the kid could be heard as he took a leap without warning, one tiny tied hand holding onto the rock.
“Help me!” the kid cried in a shaky voice and nasal tone. Chris bent down as deep as he could, his hand stretched and trying to get the kid’s wrist and lift him up.
“This might hurt a little but it’ll be fast, I promise!” he says before finally getting the kid’s wrist. Luis holds on to his waist to keep him from dipping into the well too much. With a few grunts, Chris finally manages to lift the kid out. Luis sheds his coats, wrapping it around the shivering kid as he tells the child to sit beside the well and try to stay warm. Leon, however, stays trapped and has gone beneath the water due to the downward thrust when the kid lept. The two men above the water consider shedding whatever clothing and dividing down, spotting a golden glow beneath the water. Golden? But the moon appears silver this evening; the faint light appears as if it’s beneath the waters. Interesting.
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She is backstage, gently patting powder into her face as she gets ready for tonight’s performance. She has her best pink dress on, silk embroidery casting a peachy sheen whenever golden candle-light struck the threads; long locks of her hair is kept away from her delicate face using starfish hair clips, strands defining the plumpness of cheeks the shade of tropical corals and framing her soft jaw. She spreads her lips into a wide smile, trying to get more of the product into her cheeks when she feels a sharp pain in the left side of her chest. She hastily returns the powder puff into the pot, a dainty hand flying to her chest and clutching it as she tries to catch her breath. The pain persists for a few more seconds until she realizes that someone may be in dire trouble. Hurriedly, she grabs her coat and runs out of the club. The ache in her chest could only mean one thing: a recipient of her scale needs her help right away, that recipient being Leon. Leon is the only person she’s ever offered her scale to, that tiny iridescent thing connecting the both of them in a way she didn’t quite expect. She has heard of what offering a scale could entail but she didn’t expect it to be like a map; she doesn’t know where he is but a connection to an item of hers just leads her there. She speeds through the thickness of the forest, legs pumping fast to get her to him as fast as possible. Not too long after, she spots a well and she feels the ache grow stronger. A hand flies up to unclasp her coat, hurriedly moving over to the clips in her hair to let it drop down to the floor. She spots two men and a child right by the well, the men shedding their shirts and vests. One of the men, the tanned and lean one between the pair, reaches out to her but she doesn’t pay them any mind. Stretching her arms in front of her and keeping them together, a shimmery flash of pink plunges into the well and hits the water with a loud splash. Immediately, her eyes adjust to the darkness and her legs shift into an opalescent gold tail. With a strong kick, she sets off to find Leon whose eyes are closed. She spots a muted gold glow in his chest pocket, her scale and sees his hands below his back. Hastily, she swims up to him and takes his arms; a broken piece of rope is attached to wrist and the same goes for his ankles. Wrapping her arms around his waist, she swims them both to the surface of the water but his eyes are still closed. Offering him some of her strength, she unwraps her arms from his wrist and places her tender hands on his face, she lets her lids drape over her eyes and brings her face near his. Tilting her head, her soft lips meet his lightly chapped ones; a surging tide of warmth and some miraculous strength courses through Leon’s formerly limp body, eyes slowly flying open only to be met by a blur of dark blue and a stinging sensation which causes him to shut them again. He could not see but he is certain that it’s her; an odd yet not uninvited swimming giddiness overrides his ability to reason logically and before he knows it, he finds himself pressing his lips back only for her to finally pull back and reach the surface of the well. Leon had always been the savior, the knight in the armor dirtied from war and he does not mind it– not at all but it is at that moment of nearly stepping into night’s Plutonian shore does he realize that maybe, just maybe, it doesn’t hurt to have someone save him for a change. As a man who has seen the face of war and smelt the stench of death, he has learned to raise strong walls to protect his heart from abandonment but through this moment, he comes to the realization that you’re slowly taking those walls apart but he doesn’t resent it– not one bit.
He wakes with a painful cough, sitting up and spitting out all the water from his lungs. With each jerk of his body, tears spring in his eyes from the sheer pressure he’s exerting just to get everything out. He feels a satiny touch fall on his back and he turns around; the singer from the club he frequents holds him in her lap and strokes his back from all those forceful coughing fits.
“You alright?” she asks in the most silvery voice he’s ever had the high grace of hearing.
“Yeah,” he responds with a hoarse voice. His throat feels weird and scratchy, a hand coming up to feel for his Adam's apple. He looks back at her and notices that they’re both drenched, her shimmery sleeveless dress clinging to her body and her long hair still dripping with water. His gaze falls on her cheekbones and drifts down to her arms and spots subtle opaline scales, similar to the ones on her legs. Her hands and feet look a lot more webbed, eyes appearing a little more bright than the average person’s.
“Thanks. For what you did. I mean it,” he softly says.
She smiles, still patting his back.
“It’s nothing. It’s sort of like me returning the favor for when you defended me back in the club.”
She coaxes him closer to her and he lets himself rest against her body, the weariness of the ordeal setting deep in his bones.
“How’d you find me?” he asks.
“The scale. My chest hurt while I was getting ready and I figured that you’d be in some form of trouble. I had this weird intuition on where you are and I ended up saving you.” she responds.
“Didn’t know you had a ladylove, sancho.” Luis chimes in, which causes the both of you to look avert each other’s gazes and attempt to conceal the deepening glow of pink in your cheeks. Chris finally finishes putting his garments back on, a smile on his lips. Urging Luis and the child up, they go to move somewhere else but not too distant from the both of you. Leon lifts his right hand up, gesturing it to you and shows you a gold radiance wrapped around his ring finger like a thread. You tilt your head, bringing his hand closer to you until you notice that the luminescent thread connects to your own ring finger, which also resembles thread.
“Am I going to be a mermaid too?” Leon speaks up.
“N-no… I don’t think so. This is my first time seeing something like this.” you quietly say. The threads disappear, fading into shimmery moonlight that lingered on you two for a swift moment.
“You’re a mermaid.” Leon mumbles faintly.
“Yeah, I am.” you say.
“That explains the voice.”
“And not the scale, which you thought belongs to some kind of rare fish?”
“You aren’t entirely fish but you’re quite the catch if I do say so myself.”
“Oh?”
You turn your head to a side not facing Leon, shutting your eyes and biting your lip in a moment of pure glee as waves of excitement crash over your body, a coral tint adding more color to your face.
“Let’s get back. It’s getting colder.” you finally say as you try to fight back a smile.
“Sounds like a plan.” he says as he flashes that swoon-worthy grin.
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NOTE - THANK GOD I'M FINALLY DONE WITH EXAMS OH MY LORD. Fun fact: I started this fic when I was supposed to be studying for one of my tests and I finished this when I'm currently supposed to be practicing for a music class requirement :3 Making the fic look a lot more cuter took more time than I initially thought but I don't mind tbh. I'll be inactive from January 25 to 26th because I'll be on a day-long school trip. Hopefully I'm passing all my tests because I will be CREMATED if I don't. Also ordered my Leon photocards and they haven't arrived yet (baby come home) That's all and I'm really thankful that you've read my fics and enjoyed them :) I love you <///3
The animated pink divider and chain dividers are from @cafekitsune , the images are made by me (sourced from Pinterest).
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fortunekookie07 · 3 months
Text
Alright, this one is FINALLY ready. I hope you have your tissues ready. It's a looong one. I'm not exact, but it might be twice the length of the first part? I don't have a word count. Just a dang, that's a long scroll thing. Any whoodle here ya go!
@prettytemis @ellieevu @linxiajei17 @chryssikyu @potatosugar
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Moment Forever Lost : Splintered Souls
"Who are you?" You ask, looking at the man in front of you. He is entirely unfamiliar, and he has this weird expression on his face as he stares back at you. It's almost... heartbreaking, soul shredding sorrow.
Your attention is diverted to the opening door. Several more people come in, none of them, you know. The male leading the group is tall, well built, and has mesmerizing gold green eyes. The prettiest hazel you can recall ever seeing. His name badge reads Zayne, and below that, it says Cardiology Head.
The Dr's behind him are from various departments in the hospital. Orthopedics, neurology, physical therapy, your head starts spinning, trying to remember what each Dr is there for.
The woman bringing up the rear of the group has a name badge that says Dr. Mia Evol Specialist. As far as you can recall, your Evol was never very strong or even remarkable. You write her off. She probably will be disappointed when she does her testing.
You focus your attention on Dr. Zayne as he asks you questions. Starting with your name and age. You have no trouble with those. "What happened to me? I can't really recall much. " You say when you've gotten your date wrong by five years. "You were in a traumatic accident and miraculously survived a building collapse." The dr says carefully, and you can tell he is leaving details out. Subtlety is clearly his weak point.
"These questions can wait. We need to run tests to see if you have recovered. Your body took a serious beating, but I believe you will be able to make a full recovery. " The neurologists say moving closer.
"We should get a full work up on her. We need blood draws, a CT scan, and x-rays. " You don't catch all of the things they say as they start conversing amongst themselves about who wants to run what test and when.
Your eyes go to the man in the corner of the room. Tired, is the word that comes to mind now. Looking him up and down you realize that he would be incredibly handsome if he had proper rest.
His white shirt is rumpled and you notice that the top two buttons were done wrong causing the whole shirt to look funny. You almost want to laugh at his silly appearance. A sense of familiarity comes to you as you stare at him longer.
He looks up then, having noticed your gaze. You stare back into his beautiful blue pink eyes and feel yourself falling into them. The longer you stare back at him the more you feel like you know this gaze. Something starts to surface in the back of your mind and you feel enchanted, like a spell has been cast over you.
A memory flashes by in the back of your mind. You just barely glimpse a sulky, pouting face and what you think is a school uniform. But it goes by too fast for you to grasp it. You stare at him harder, your brows furrowing in concentration. A slight ache starts in your head and you wince.
The little gesture is enough to shatter the spell like trance you were under and a nurse blocks your view of him as she unhook various equipment and they prepare to whisk you off for endless testing.
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Rafayel's mind was in endless chaos, he couldn't understand what had happened. He knew your tremor Evol was not strong. You'd told him that yourself many times since you'd gone to the Hunter Academy and tried to become a trainee.
He kept going back to the building collapse and the earthquake that had resulted in the aftermath.
Rafayel had thrown himself through the hole in the floor that had opened up when the supports could no longer take the shaking.
As he dove after you, he could see a glow forming all around you. A symbol appeared over your heart, one he knew all to well. It was incomplete but he still recognized it. He'd put it on his love's heart himself back in his first life as God of Tides.
His mind began racing. How could there be two girls with his mark? He'd confirmed its presence on her a long time ago. Why was it here now? He'd never sensed even a fraction of his power from you before.
Using his flames to boost his falling speed and get closer to you, his hadn't was reached out to you. It felt like time has stopped. The ground was so close and he was not gaining on you to close the distance.
With an anguished cry he summoned the flames and sent it to the ground below. If he couldn't catch you, then he'd would make it so you survived no matter what. He had to know why you had his mark and how it had come to you.
Like time was flowing again he watch you hit the ground. Tears were streaming from his eyes now. The sickening sound of you hitting the earth tore him in two.
Slowing his fall down, he landed lightly next to you and then reached out. He wished he couldn't tell how badly you were hurt. Blood was seeping through your hair and your nose was bleeding. Your breath was ragged and shallow. Like you couldn't get air.
Rafayel knew he shouldn't move you. Internal injuries could cause you to bleed to death, but he could also tell you needed immediate medical attention.
A lite thump behind him had Rafayel glancing around. He caught site of her running over. She had few injuries as well. Her black hair was cover in debris and dust. Shallow cute and nicks were scattered on her face and arms. If the thin lines of blood and tears to her sleeves were anything to go by.
She knelt by his side furiously tapping on her watch trying to get a signal. Glancing over your body and the extent of injuries she knee if help didn't come soon you were going to die.
"Come on, come on!" She said, frustration and worry lacing her tone. Finally the call connected and she immediately spit out the need for urgent medical help.
"A medical team has been dispatched to your location." Tara said without hesitation.
Anxious moments tick by and your breathing gets worse. It'd like your heart had been hooked up to a speaker. He's focusing ok so hard he can hear every shallow breath you take. He stops breathing the moment your heart mutters, skips a beat and then stops. His hands flutter, anxious at giving you CPR without knowing the extent of your injuries.
As if hearing your prayers, a light shines in the dark space and he hears voices calling out for survivors. She stands up and starts yelling, calling them this way.
Two paramedics and four fore fighters rush towards your location. Rafayel steps back and anxiously tells them that you aren't breathing. They get to work immediately. Hooking you up to the portable hear monitor and an IV to give fluids, pain medication, and then they start CPR. Placing a tube down your throat and then pumping air into your lugs.
They cut your shirt open, exposing your chest and feeling along your ribs and abdomen. "Her lung has collapsed were going to need a chest tube Stat. I'm not losing her!" The man says immediately opening the kit and getting to work.
"Got a pulse, get a c-collar and let's move her!" The unsteady beep of your heart on the machine has Rafayel taking a breath again. He hand realized he'd been holding it the whole time. Completely ignoring his lungs burning need for air. They strap you down to a long board and carefully lift you up.
For what seems like an eternity, Rafayel makes his way through the ruble. He's bringing up the rear of the group. Anxiety is eating away at him over your condition. Your heart has stopped once, it could happen again and they might not be able to get you back next time.
Using his injuries as an excuse, Rafayel manages to get a ride in the ambulance with you. The paramedics are hovering over you. Monitoring your vitals and body condition for even the slightest change. Then it happens, the heart monitor loses your heart and a long beep echos in his head as they spring into action. Preparing to do CPR, and manually pump air into your lungs
"Come on, you've got to fight for us. Don't give up now!" The guy who'd gotten you back the first time says to your still body as the heart monitor continues to let out the long beep.
Rafayel can't sit still he gets up. "Can I try something?" He asks but doesn't give them a chance to respond. He pushes his way between them and grasps your hand, squeezing tightly and then he's speaking, calling your name quietly.
"You can't leave me now, I haven't apologized for being the worst friend possible and not recognizing how important you are to me. Please don't go. You can hate me if you want. I deserve that, just don't leave me alone." Rafayel is tearing up, and the tears deips down his face and onto your chest right over your heart.
Suddenly the long beeping stops as the machine finds your heartbeat again. Very unsteady, but stronger than before. "Don't let go of her hand, right now you're her lifeline." The paramedic says as they cover you up to keep you warm. One of them keeps track of the heart monitor and then the same guy is turning to tend Rafayel's mild injuries.
The rest of the trip was a whirlwind to Rafayel. It didn't take long to get to the hospital and then you were rushed off for xrays.
A nurse bandages all his shallow injuries and then he manages to get it our of her what room you were taken to.
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The last test is finally done and you feel exhausted. Going in and out of different areas of the hospital has worn you out. Despite the fact that you were in a wheel chair or in your bed.
Due to not moving for just over two months, your legs have become pretty thin. The muscles deteriorated with out constant movement or walking.
Physical therapy is scheduled to start in two days if your xrays have cleared you. The skull fractures have healed well. Headaches were to be expected.
Finally younare back in your room and just as your had thought, that man is still there. It didn't look like he had really moved. Still sitting on that stiff looking couch.
The nurse hooked you back up to the machines and administered your evening medications and then helped you change into a clean gown. After all that was finally done, you were teetering on the realm of unconsciousness as the door closed.
Rustling had you slightly opening your eyes. He was standing up and moving closer to you. "Do you really not know who I am?" His tone sounds so defeated and his eyes have a faraway look to them. You hmmm before falling alseep, unable to keep your eyes open any longer.
Over the next few weeks, you have come to terms with the fact that in addition to missing fiver years there are significant gaps in your memory altogether. Rafayel, as he told you what his name was finally, hardly ever leaves your side. You're the one who leave this large room more than he does actually.
The day before, your physical therapist had even cleared you to walk without an aide. Though you aren't allowed to run yet, it shouldn't be long. You've even gained back some weight. Overall you look much healthier than you did when you first woke up.
There are several things that concern you though. Th dreams you have at night, you can never remember what they were about but you always feel like you've been on some fantastic adventure and you are almost certain Rafayel was in all of them.
Sometimes you even feel like this is the dream and what you can't remember is reality. Almost like you're disconnected from everything.
Unlike your initial prediction, Dr. Mia has not left the group of Dr's attending you. She has run numerous tests on your Evol and you can see that something is not quite right. She almost seems frustrated. Finally you ask her. She hesitates before asking the question. "Your Evol was tremors right?" You immediately focus on the use of was and you think the worst. Not everyone had Evol, and though yours was not strong it was definitely there. "Was?" You ask disheartened.
"No matter what test I rub on you the result is not tremor. It's Anhausen and your level is indeterminable." She sounded at her wits end. "It's possible to raise your level as you grow stronger and practice your skills. But I've never heard of anyone just having their Evol class change entirely. I didn't think it was even possible." She rambled off muttering.
After she left, you were consumed with thoughts. You wished you could talk to your mother. She had died just before you entered elementary. A car accident. The road had been slick with rain and her car had spun out of control.
You were only six when all you'd ever known was gone. Your father had never been in the picture and from what you'd learned from your mother's friends it had been a drunken night when she got you. With no family to turn to, you'd been sent to an orphanage.
That night as you dream wild visions come to life. A world under the sea, a pair of beautiful blue-pink eyes and a cocky smile seem to linger even as the dream changes.
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The next morning you wake up in a cold sweat and throw the blankets off of you sitting up in a rush. Your gasping for air and the room feels incredibly small. Like your trapped in some kind box.
Your hearts racing out of your chest and you feel like your soul has been split many times. You look around with wild eyes expecting to see those mad researchers come into the room to try their next experiment.
You really felt like you'd died several times as they played a game with your life. Only one person seemed even remotely concerned for your wellbeing. It wasn't much to you, after all, how important was some test subject that didn't even have a name? You'd only been referred to by a code of some sort. Subject 001 and Unicorn remained firmly rooted in your mind.
The door opens drawing you out of your still semi panicked state and fully back to reality. The dream all but forgotten as it moves to the back of your mind.
Rafayel is walking across the threshold and there's a small woman behind him. She's holding a small bouquet of large white chrysanthemums. How did she know your favorite flower? You wrack your brain trying to recall if you've ever met her and come up empty.
Something is gnawing at the back of your mind and you feel like you should know her. Her large brown eyes display her kind nature and friendly personality as they look you over. A smile is on her face as she meets your eyes. Turning to close the door behind her you can see that her dark brown hair is long and straight.
You feel a twinge of envy as you think that her hair would probably never have the audacity to misbehave on her like yours did. Heck you probably had bad bed head now.
"Hi!" She starts off brightly, turning up her smile. "Rafayel said that you had memory loss so I know you don't remember me, but we've met several times before. Rafayel is my good friend and he and I were there to rescue you the day your work building collapsed." Her words are careful and you feel like there is something that she isn't telling you, but you also feel like she is speaking in a manner to not upset or depress you so you decide to let it go for the moment.
"Rafayel told me that you were finally allowed to have visitors and that this was your favorite flower. I'm so glad you woke up. All of us at the Hunter's Association were worried for you. It was a terrible accident. It's incredibly fortunate there were no casualties. Oh I should probably reintroduce myself."
Her face blushes slightly in embaressment as she rubs her head shyly before giving her name.
You sit down on the bed and smile back at her. "Thank you for visiting, I'm sorry I can't remember you. Thank you for saving my life. The doctors told me some details about what happened. I would have died if you hadn't been there. I will be eternally greatful." You extend your hand to her and she lights up before taking it.
A shock goes through you as your palms touch and you jerk your hand back eyes widening slightly. You can tell she felt it to. As your eyes meet an image comes to your head. It's that woman, the one who was in your dreams. But she looks completely different, older, more relaxed. "What was that??" She says alarmed and no longer smiling. She saw something too, but clearly not the same thing.
She shivers hugging herself as if to chase away a bad memory. "Unicorn?" She mumbles very soflty but you still hear it. You gaze at her intently. Had she seen your dream? She shakes her head and then presents the bouquet to you after Rafayel touches her back and softly asks if she is alright.
You take the flowers, careful not to touch her hands again. She's smiling again. "I can't stay any longer, I have to go to work now. I just wanted to bring this to you. I hope you get to go home soon. Congratulations on your recovery!" She waves before turning from the room. "I'll walk you out." Rafayel says leaving behind her.
Once they're gone you mull over the image you'd seen. The woman, much older now. She had to know her. If you saw her just by touching. She must be real. There had to be more to this weird sensation you'd felt just by touching. Maybe it was all connected to the gaps in your memory, the way your Evol had changed, and your strange dreams.
*******************************************************
After another week had passed, the Dr's were finally ready to release you. For the first time in what felt like a century, you were going home. At first you were elated. No more testing, people constantly coming in and out of your room. No more endless medications. You could finally ditch that pushy physical therapist too! Even if there was still the matter of attending the outpatient therapy for two more weeks.
The best part at first had been getting out from underneath Rafayel's watchful eyes. He rarely left and even when he did, it wasn't for more than an hour. When the day had actually come and with it the impending separation you had this echo of loneliness. You had always lived alone. Ever since you had entered high school. Having him constantly around was nice.
When you found yourself standing in front of a door that was familiar and altogether alien you steeled your resolve and walked across the threshold. "Thanks for bringing me home and for staying by my side the whole time. I'm sorry I still can't remember you." You say turning to Rafayel. He only gives you that small smile as he hands over your bag.
"I'm just going to go to bed." You say after standing in the doorway in silence foe a few minutes. "Alright, get some rest. I'll check on you later." He moves forward, coming closer to you. Then his arms wrap around you as he pulls you into a tight hug.
After he's gone the silence is loud. Since waking up a few weeks ago, the constant sound of hospital machinery, and chatter outside your room has become familiar. Without all of that, it's like the silence is screaming, it makes you uneasy.
Bored from just sitting on the couch you flip on the TV to a random show and settle down. It's only with the added noise are you finally able to sleep.
When you wake up again, it's hard to tell just how much time has passed. Your body is stiff from not moving and you feel hungry, though the desire to alleviate any of those issues just isn't there.
A notification popping up in your phone finally has you moving. Of course it's just your phone telling you to charge it. Turning your attention to the notifications you see there are a lot of them. Going back for weeks.
There's texts, alerts, emails, and system notifications galore. Getting the charger and hooking it up, you start with the emails. Most of it is junk. The only things if relevance being bill notices and confirmation of payments. You frown in confusion, who was paying the bills while you were in a coma?
Moving on to the text messages. The conversation with Rafayel catches your eye. Desperate for a clue to your relationship you start reading.
Tears well in your eyes. How could he not tell you that you had been fighting and that you hadn't spoken for two weeks before your accident? The woman you had met, she was involved too. Why hadn't they said anything?
Feeling betrayed, you stop reading and throw your phone. It bounces off the bed and slides across the floor, stopping under the dresser. You flop down on your bed and curl up on your side. Any thoughts of eating having vanished from your mind.
Letting the feelings wash over you, you cry yourself to sleep again.
As your dreams wash over you, your mind seems to be going far away. Back to a time that your soul and heart remember, bit your mind has forgotten.
The next time you wake up, the feeling that you haven't moved for a long time set's off aches in your body. You can't bring yourself to relive your body's discomfort though.
The lingering image in your head is of deep, clear blue waters and a pair of striking blue pink eyes.
Then you hear it, the sound that has initially drawn you from your dreams. Slowly you sit up and look around the dark room. "What is that?" You ask trying to find the source of the noise. It sounds kind of like a whirring noise. Before you can locate it, the noise stops and silence falls again.
You stretch out your stiff limbs and get up. Your joints Crack with the movement as you do. As you are now fully awake and alert, your stomach let's out a snarl. The ache that follows behind convinces you to get some food.
Going into the kitchen and rummaging through the fridge and cabinets you soon end up with a little pile. Everything left is shelf stable. Looks like soup is the best you can do for now.
Before long you have the water boiling and are stiring the noodles as you wait for them to cook. Ramen is probably not enough, but lacking the desire to do much else you resign to the simple bowl of beef noodles.
After scooping it into a bowl you head to the couch and flip the TV on. You slowly sip away at the hot broth and slurp down the noodles as you watch the news. Wanderer attacks are at an all time low and experts are all trying to put their two cents in as to why this is.
You hardly care, less people are getting hurt and the Hunter's for once aren't being worked overtime. Setting the bowl on the table in front of you, you lean back with a yawn. It's silly for you to be so tired now after having slept twice since getting home, but your body is demanding rest and once again you drift off to sleep with dreams you can't remember much of.
*******************************************************
Rafayel looked at his phone with a mixture of annoyance and deep worry. It had been almost five days since he'd dropped you off at home, and not once had you picked up his calls or answered a text. At this point worry was taking a dominant lead in his mind.
If he were in Linkon, he would have just rushed over to your apartment to check up on you. However this was not the case.
An extremely important client of his and one of Thomas's investors had been trying to get Rafayel to appear at his art exhibit for years. Because Rafayel had ditched work and denied all gallery appearances and canceled his last two shows, he hadn't been able to say no. Thomas had threatened to quit, he'd even typed up his resignation and was prepared to submit it, he'd waved the official papers in Rafayel's face.
Having no choice, and not wanting to lose his good friend as his gallery manager, Rafayel flew to London to see the client. He'd had to leave right after dropping you off.
Rafayel's mood was absolutely sour as he watched reporters and guests walk through the gallery while he hid in a corner and sulked. Stupid Thimas and his stupid threats he though darkly as he glared at nothing in particular. Then his phone rang and he answered it without looking at the ID.
"Hello?" Your name tumbled from his lips and his heart sank when it wasn't you. "No, it's me. I didn't want to bother you while your working, but, maybe it's nothing. It's just, she hasn't gone to any of her physical therapy appointments. Zayne mentioned it to me when I was there for my checkup this afternoon. I'd go check on her, but I don't know her address. I'm kind of worried. She just came out of a coma too." Rafayel's heart froze with worry ad he rattled off your address and then begged her to go check on you.
"I'm on the next flight home. I'll be there in five hours." He said walking towards the client. This was the last day of his exhibit so surely he would be alright to let him leave if he said it was an emergency.
Thankfully the client was very understanding, seeing the look on Rafayel's face and hearing the concern as he quickly explained, had him feeling bad for the younger man. He placed his hand on Rafayel's shoulder and shook his hand. Thanking him for coming and wishing him a safe return home.
Rafayel had this foreboding feeling come over him, the same as the day you nearly died. His stomach clenched in knots as he begged the taxi driver to get him to the airport as fast as possible.
Whenever he had this feeling he knew something very bad was going to happen. He was begging to be wrong for once.
*******************************************************
Your eyes flickered open and you were confused about where you were. Where had Rafayel gone and what were you wearing? Confusion grew even more when you realized you also weren't in the sea. "Rafayel?" You called looking around the strange room.
Bzzzzzzzzz
The strange sound had you jumping. In your fright you tumbled to the floor, off your curled up position on the couch. With your fall, reality caught up to you.
Touching your aching head you mumbled "Thay felt so real, I can't believe I forgot it was a dream." As you went to stand, a wave of dizziness had you sinking back down. You felt so weak and the energy to stand just wasn't there. The dizziness grew and you felt your body surrendering to unconsciousness once more.
"S'mthins wrong." You manage to get our before blackness over takes your vision and you fall back into dreams.
*******************************************************
She stood outside your apartment hesitant. It was so late now. Almost three, but Rafayel had sounded so desperate. Finally she swallowed her indecision and rang the bell. It was so quiet out that she could hear the buzz echoing inside. Thankfully she was listening hard for sounds and she heard a soft thump.
Convinced that you needed help she opened the door with the emergency key card and rushed in. The landlord had been very understanding of your situation and trusted that because she was a Hunter she could be trusted and had given her the card.
She rushed past the doorway and into the livingroom. Spotting you on the floor, leaning onto the seat of the couch she rushed over and grasped your wrist, feeling for a pulse. Her blood went cold when she felt how weak it was.
Immediately calling for an ambulance as she checked you over for injuries. Finding none, she grabbed a blanket and covered you with it before lifting you onto the couch. You didn't wake from your sleep. Fear gripped her as your head just lulled back onto the cushion behind you.
Just as fear was taking over the sound of sirens shattered the quiet. Relief started to flood her as she quickly ran to the door and met the paramedics. She rattled off your name and age and approximate weight as the asked questions. She mentioned that you had recently been a coma patient and had been released a few days ago.
"Her heartbeat and blood pressure are dangerously low. We need to take her." The paramedic said packing away the machine. "Will you meet us there?" They asked and she noded before following them out and running to her bike.
Her heart was thumping with uneasiness. Ever since that day she had come to see you at the hospital, those horrific images plagued her dreams. What disturbed her the most was the face of her beloved grandmother. She was the focus of that vision. Ever since then she hadn't been able to shake the feeling of familiarity. That room was alien and she felt like she could describe it in complete detail. Down to every crack and the pick the exact shad of paint in the room.
Rafayel had spoken of you fondly many times over the years. Rafayel held you in high regard and you were very important to him. So she took you as important to her as well. Rafayel was her good friend, her soul mate that she couldn't have this time.
"Please be alright." She said aloud as she sped through the empty streets, almost chasing the ambulance.
She managed to reach the hospital just as the paramedics were unloading you. They were shouting to the waiting nurses. Your pulse was still far to slow and they'd had to resuscitate twice. Things were not looking good.
As she rushed over, one of the nurses stopped her. "Sorry miss, only family can follow. Please head to reception waiting area." Unable to change the nurses mind, she headed to the waiting area and paced.
After three hours of mindless waiting, a nurse finally came to talk to her. "Are you here for this patient?" She asked, looking up from her tablet.
Before she could respond Rafayel came dashing into the room. Out of breath, clothes disheveled and hair messy. He managed to get your name out between huffs. "She's awake now, but very weak. Her heart is giving out." The nurse said solemnly. Her face and expression showed very clearly that she was sad.
"What about a transplant?" Rafayel asked immediately, but the nurse only shook her head. "She is far to weak, she wouldn't make it off the table and the patient has expressed her desire not to undergo any surgeries.
"You can go see her now." She gestured to follow and lead them both down the hall. Rafayel hesitated outside your room. Trying to prepare himself for what awaited him on the other side of that door. A pat on his shoulder and he took a deep breath and opened the door.
His eyes went to you immediately. The slow beeping of the heart monitor tracking your far too slow heart rate, the sound of the oxygen tank giving you clean air. All of it made the reality of the situation painfully real.
His eyes finally went to your face, skin was far to pale and your eyes were lack luster. Walking closer, he stood at your bedside and just watched you. He said nothing for what seemed like hours.
Finally you spoke "I don't want to be here anymore." You said, voice raspy and quiet. Rafayel felt his heart squeeze painfully, the words were daggers, aimed straight at him.
"Take me up to the roof, I want to watch the sunrise one more time." The nurse wanted to protest that staying right where you were was vest for you, but something about your expression had her quieting down.
"I really shouldn't do this, but under the circumstances I'll help you." She got to work unhookijg the heart monitor, all the wires and needles that you had been connected to. Rafayel slid his arm under your knees and around you back lifting you up easily. Your head leaned against his shoulder as he turned and walked out the door.
Having spent weeks in the hospital before he did not need directions to the roof. He took the elevator up to the top floor and then walked up the short flight of stairs leading to the roof access. Adjusting his grip on you he pushed the door open. The sky was just beginning to lighten. Already showing signs of the sun's ascent. He walked over the the center and then sat down. Carefully settling you in his lap.
Finally you spoke again. "When were you going to tell me about our fights?" You asked in a calm voice as you looked at the sky. Rafayel hesitated before speaking. "I wanted things to go back to the way they were before. I wanted my best friend back." You shook your head and glanced at him once.
"What about the fact that I'm just a substitute for her?" Rafayel was confused that you were bringing her up now. "What do you mean?" Your body tensed getting ready to fight and argue but looking at Rafayel's genuine confusion, you relax again.
"I mean that I remember things I can't possibly know. Things that you said happened with her in your first life. Like I experienced them myself. I finally understand why I'm so attached to you. Why I could never let you go." Tears roll down your face as you speak.
"I hope I am never born again. Let this be my last existence." Your words are painful to hear but he can think of no rebuttal. He just sits there holding you and watching the sky.
The mark over your heart starts glowing again as the sun peeks over the horizon. "I never want to see you again." You say weakly. Tears are slowly rolling down your face and your body is feeling heavy. Sleep is calling, the comforting blackness is slowly seeping into your mind. Your head lulls back as your eyes slid closed. Your heart beats once more and then stops.
The silence is deafening, and Rafayel watches as his mark lifts away from you and then fizzles out, flying off in an almost untraceable red trail.
****************************************************
I know this is massively overdue. I had wanted to post this week's ago. I do apologize for the very belated update. I worked to pack it full of the angsty pain you guys crave.
80 notes · View notes
theapangea · 1 year
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Missed You Too
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Missed You Too
Steve Harrington x reader
Summary: You finally kiss Steve.
A/N: Ok this is one that I posted on AO3 after the end of the last season. Obviously I had to write something good for Steve because they do my boy so dirty!! HE IS NOT SOMEONES SECOND CHOICE!! Hope you enjoy my loves <3!!
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The past week was a blur. You didn’t expect your first college spring break to end with you racing back to Hawkins to see the aftermath of what Venca…? One…? Henry…caused. You didn’t want to entirely believe that the Upside Down still existed, that the gate was still open after you all fought so hard to close it time and time again. That’s why you chose to leave Hawkins in the first place, moving across the country to get away from the horrors of that small town. 
But when Jonathan, Will, and Mike show up at your door, pleading for your help to find Eleven, you couldn’t just turn your back on them, not then, not ever.  
You didn’t even know that Joyce, Eleven, and the boys moved to California shortly after you did. No one bothering to stay in touch, mostly you didn’t bother to stay in touch. Almost like you intentionally separated yourself from the people you were closest to. You would never admit it, blaming the lack of communication on school. 
The truth was, you didn’t want to be part of Hawkins anymore. You didn’t want to fear for your life. The scar that Hawkins left on your soul made you paranoid, made it hard for you to live a normal life. Always looking over your shoulder, always ready for a fight. 
The drive back was like riding a bike, you could drive it blind folded if you had to. Everyone thought it would be best if you drove the last bit as Jonathan was barely able to stay awake at this point. The tall, full trees lined the only road in and out of Hawkins. Car after car rushing to escape the town as disaster stuck only nights before. 
Passing shelters, destroyed homes, police and media, all lining the streets trying to make sense of the situation. If only they knew the truth. 
The car swings around the curb, braking suddenly outside of the Wheeler house. You never thought you would be here again, at least not in this lifetime. Pausing, white knuckling the steering wheel as you hear the van door slide open. Mike, Eleven, Will, Argyle and Jonathan exiting the vehicle to be reunited with loved ones again. You take your time getting out of the pizza van, not sure if you wanted to see them, not sure if they wanted to see you .
Finding yourself staying by the van with Argyle. He was new, didn’t know about Hawkins and was thrown into this mess similar to how you all were. How could he continue to want to be part of this? Your gaze drifts down, your chest heaving rapidly. Your feet glued to the ground, unable to move from your spot. 
Closing your eyes, trying to regain a sense of self. It shouldn’t matter that you left then, it should only matter that you are here now . Some relief washing over as you repeat that you are here now, you are here now, you are here now. The held breath releasing as you scan the scene in front of you, the warm breeze picking up making you draw the wild strands of hair behind your ears. 
You watch as Mike hugs his mom, her eyes tender and soft, thanking the gods for him to be returned safely, stating how he is never allowed to leave home again. Her hands never leave his body, afraid that if she lets go then he will disappear without a trace again.
Jonathan approaches Nancy, both unsure of their relationship, both yearning for a solution - but still they hug, the sweet embrace almost made up for the long, angry phone calls and the absence spring break trip. 
Jonathan told you all about his Nancy problems, hoping you would be able to help. He didn’t like your answer of honesty and communication, joking how you were never honest with your true feelings for a certain Hawkins boy. Quietly commenting that you should have made a move a long time ago to get him to move on from Nancy. 
After all this time, you couldn’t believe he was still hung up on her. But maybe he was supposed to move on. Move on to someone who he spent all his time with, to the person he’d drop by at their house unannounced, to the girl who was so tired of the neverending nightmares that she did everything she could to move as far away as possible. Even if it meant breaking the heart of the person she was supposed to end up with.
And there he was…
Boy, was he a sight for sore eyes. The green-blue sweater with the rolled up sleeves to the washed out blue jeans hugging his hips in all the right places. The way his hair was so delicately placed, too messy to be considered neat, too neat to be considered messy. His eyes heartbroken, full of pain and anger. Full of every ounce of love that he is willing to give away in a heartbeat. Your soul aching for him. 
His hand placed on the back of his neck, clearly hurt from the unfolding scene between Nancy and Jonathan. Robin’s hand pressing gently on his back, guiding him away. 
You weren’t surprised that he still had feelings for her. A little annoyed, yes, but not surprised in any way. He would always talk about her, the way she laughed and talked and smiled. And it made you so angry back then. Realizing that the anger never left. 
He hasn’t noticed you yet, his eyes fixated on the ground. Probably hoping to finally disappear. You feel the same. You were two passing ships in the night too afraid to let the other one know you were there, constantly turning off your lights, constantly dropping your sails.
The situation between you both was left pretty rocky. You could never decipher the tension between you both, was it love or indifference? Steve was always there for you and even supported your decision to leave Hawkins, even if that meant never seeing you ever again.
You promised to call each other once a week, which did happen until once a week turned into once a month and once a month turned into dozens of missed calls on both ends. Leaving you both hopeless and alone. Both trying to figure out adulthood without the comfort of a childhood friend.
Before pushing your body away from the car, you look over at Argyle for some sort of friendly relief. After hearing Jonathan complain about you never making a move on Steve, Argyle has been constantly encouraging you since. To not wait for any guy to make the first move, to create your own future. You were surprised at his wisdom.
His kind smile helps ease your nerves as your feet move one in front of the other, your heart beating so loud you can hear it in your ears. The drowning noise of your blood rushing through your body almost makes you want to turn around. Run away like the first time - but you were tired of running. Tired of the ‘what if situation’ that danced between you and Steve. This was your moment and there was no way you were going to turn back. Not this time.
Walking down the driveway, Mrs.Wheeler silently thanks you for helping bring Mike back home safely. Her hand lightly squeezes yours as you pass. Your lips curl, barely a smile forming as your mind is elsewhere.
Nancy watches as you walk by, her body still wrapped in Jonathan’s arms. Her mouth barely parted, maybe she wanted to say something but immediately regretted his decision to make any comment. The strong bond between you both broke when she started to date Steve…then Jonathan. You were civil with one another but you’ve barely spoken a sentence in the past three years. Neither of you wanting to resolve your years-long battle.
Robin’s and Steve’s gaze are on you. Stopping right in front of the pair, realizing you didn’t have a plan once you got to this point. Robin instantly beaming that bright smile that you missed so much. Her hug was intentional, like she was trying to squeeze all the events of this past week out of you. Cleansing you of all the horrors. Your arms wrap around his waist, pulling her deeper, knowing you needed her in that moment. Her comfort washing over you, giving you the strength you so desperately needed. She releases you, arm's length away, her smile inviting and safe. 
Your eyes shifting to Steve. Swearing in that moment that he was smiling but immediately covering it with a cough and a snatch on the nose. 
She squeezes your shoulders before walking away, giving you and Steve a little alone time. Even if that alone time was in front of half your friends.  
“Hey.” You exhale, the tension growing between the two of you. The air suddenly still as his eyes studying your face, his fingers twitching every so slightly. 
In one swift movement, grabbing your wrist, pulling you in for a hug. The instant smell of his cologne filling your head, making you dizzy with the smell of home. No words needed to be spoken between the two of you. He was just glad you were safe, finally in his arms.
You missed him. 
Not just this past week, but for the past 8 months. He pulls you in closer, his body finally relaxing against yours. The breath of fresh air was everything you both needed, everything you have ever wanted, and everything you will ever need. 
In this moment, you were his and he was yours. Everything was right with the world. All the trouble of this past week washes away, your minds clearing, seeing a future with only the two of you. 
You both pull back, speaking in a silent conversation. Neither of you know how to respond in this situation. Both of you felt the buzz, the electricity, the love. 
After all this time, it felt like you never left. The feelings for Steve came crumbling back down. You thought this was your chance, your only chance . Your body makes the decision for you, as your hand wraps around the back of his neck, pulling him down to meet your lips.
Your breath instantly intertwines with his, every inhale pulling him closer and closer. Your other hand balling up into the soft fabric of his sweater as he deepens into you. His hand catching your cheek, his lips soft and warm, gentle yet demanding. The craving of his touch on your skin sends heat waves throughout your body. 
He takes his time, wanting to remember this moment. All the uncertain feelings, all the unfinished conversations, crashing down all around you both. Kissing him was the only way you could tell him everything you had kept in for all these years. 
He pulls back, resting his forehead on yours, pure eyes as he whispers, “I missed you too.” 
~~~
I hope you enjoyed!! thank you for reading and supporting me
351 notes · View notes
mischiefmaker615 · 5 months
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Fangs
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Rating: PG14
Requester: @eleniblue
Promp: "Why do you think that you need to fix me? Who told you I was broken?"
Summary: You discover Loki's secret 
Note: TBH i've been wanting to try a Vampire Loki one shot..
"Why do you think that you need to fix me? Who told you I was broken?"
His voice was barely a whisper, almost as if he were right beside you when you clearly had your gaze on him from across a healing table.
Your eyes flicked up at him, having finished letting your minor cut heal under the magical glow before drawing your hand away from his.
His fingers gave a very small resistance, as if not wishing to let you go just yet as your fingers slid from his, both your finger tips faintly hesitating before your arm returned to your side again. Your other hand gripped your servants gown, your nails reminding you just how tight you had it clutched from your nervousness where you finally released the fabric.
That's all you were weren't you.. servant. But to prince Loki, you were more than that..
A servant and a prince. In his eyes you were nothing more than a goddess, as he's often reminded you. he often found excuses to be able to run into you, to have you on call for mere tasks that you would bring yourself to him as well. And you went willingly. You always did. There was something.. about it, something different.. and with each passing day as your bond grew, you knew there was something he just wasn't admitting. The funny thing was, his feelings were clear and he's spoken of them and his intentions.. but what he hid was deeper than that.. something that grew fear in your chest by the mere thought of daring to ask.
The opportunity always presented itself to ask what exactly he hid but words never left your mouth. How could you? you both have shared your hearts, have shared a bed, and he new your every soul and desire as if it were apart of him. was this it?
The way he gazed at you now had your eyes captive in his and you could feel your heart race as you drew in a breath to not have your prince wait any longer. ''it would seem you are the one always having to fix me..'' you often a light joke, your smile disappearing before you could even fully raise in as he slowly drew his hand off the table and he straightened to his full height. Even with the relationship you both secretly had, the prince never failed to remind you just how different your positions were, making your eyes drop respectfully.
''answer pet..'' he whispered.
''.. I don't wish to fix you Loki.. and I don't think you are broken..'' you answer with your voice just as quiet as his. Your eyes slowly raise to meet his own, seeing how he gazed upon you in question as you boldly spoke his name. ''..i can.. sense that you have been secretly struggling with something for a long time..'' you spoke, your head tilting up ever so slightly to gaze up at him and felt yourself take a breath. ''something to long..''
Loki's eyes roamed over you, his body stiffening as if you were on to him yet his expression never gave you an answer about what he was really thinking. He never did. His words were always answer but you've often had to find the right questions. That is, when he wasn't using seduction to have you forget what you wished to ask in the first place.
Your eyes glanced down where your cut had previously been, a reminder of a small pruning incident with the roses just before he made his presence known in the garden not long ago. He was always there wasn't he.. whenever you got hurt. Whenever you were bleeding..
Your eyes slowly moved up to his, the warm yellow glow of the healers table illuminating his eyes. Those eyes.. they always seemed different until you would begin questioning their color, just as they were now. Back to blue. But not before..
Your steps moved you before you could even register what was happening, slowly moving yourself around the table as you hold his gaze in your own now with a small kindling of confidence that rose in your chest. Your hand slid and followed along the table's edge as you brought yourself around and stopped before him, his head dipping down ever so slightly to look at you with careful breaths rising his chest.
''...you're starving aren't you..''
There was a chill in the air so it seemed, your one, simple statement being enough to draw silence between the two of you which seemed to feel like forever as he wordlessly parted his lips in question.
''i.. pet- i.. what are you-'' for once in your entire life, the prince struggled for words before you.
You both knew.
''it's okay Loki.. you're not broken.. you don't need to be fixed.. you're just hungry..'' your words were a whisper, where you almost couldn't even hear yourself if you hadn't seen the prince's reactions.
Ever so slightly he would take slow steps back as you slowly stalked forward, your eyes never leaving each other's even once as his back reached the wall with still that slight stocked expression that one would miss if they weren't gazing upon him intently.
''I've know for a long time my prince.. and it's okay.. this secret will be unspoken and safe with me..'' you said carefully, seeing how his eyes even questioned your loyalty but you kept your expression serious. He was the god of lies after all, and knew he saw truth in your words. Your shoes stopped just before his, tilting your head up and to the side as you looked at him.
''I love you Loki. It's okay..'' you breathed, love in your eyes as your hand slowly rose up and brushed your hair to one side, exposing your neck to him.
Right in that moment, time seemed to stop. His breath held, his eyes widen and his body stiffened. Those eyes were no longer blue anymore.. but took on the same color as the very blood that had left your hand not to long ago. His hands shook, restraint and control fighting him as he seemed to be losing and coming undone, something Loki has always been skilled at maintaining. Yet not tonight. Not right now.
And he snapped.
His slender fingers wrap around your wrist, using one swift motion to turn you both where your back now is pressed against the wall with the god before you looming dangerously close.
''you're a clever girl, that you are..'' he whispered, his voice almost reminding you of a snake and could feel the tip of his nose rub against your neck as his hand grips your jaw to keep your head tilted to the side. His thumb runs against your bottom lip while you hear him inhale your scent and could see a smile tug at the corner of his mouth. ''I am unsure of how you figured it out love,.. perhaps I was careless around you.. as one does when they are in love.'' His eyes flick to yours. ''their walls come down.''
A knee moved itself between your legs, applying just enough pressure as he rubbed against your sensitive area; your hand gripping his wrist as you tried not to whimper while the other rested against his chest. You always felt small like this- granted your heights were drastically different anyway, but he used this to his advantage.. and absolutely relished in it.
''I know I can trust you love, and that you are telling the truth.. but you should not have offered me this..'' he sighed, your eyes trained on him but didn't move, your pleasure from his grinding knee distracting you as you tried focusing on his words.
''I care for you Loki, I wanted too..''
You bite your lip as you held back a moan, feeling the flat of his tongue slowly drag across the crook of your neck, making your shiver and your fingers tighten.
''and that is why I love you Y/N.. you know of the danger, of the risks and yet you still place myself before your own desires and needs. Truly a treasure to be kept sacred.. which is why I will do my upmost best, darling, to not inflict pain upon you. at least.. not in this way..'' he promised, his red eyes meeting your own to ensure of you the truth behind his words before he inhaled, his eyes closing and his brows furrowed in concentration.
You knew what he was, you knew what to expect, yet your body still reacted once his eyes reopened and his lips parted slightly. His eyes didn't dare meet yours, almost as if he didn't wish to see your possible reaction of fear as your eyes left his lust filled ones to rest upon his slightly long fangs that promised would pierce without much force. Your body tensed and your eyes widened as he kept his eyes trained on your neck and you felt his groin grow hard as he moved his knee away to move even closer to you, grinding himself against you as his hand left your wrist to lace his fingers with yours and kept you pinned all the same.
There was slight fear, more anxiousness of the unknown but you made no move to stop him, to fight him, and as if sensing your worry almost seemed to drive him more as he gave your neck a kiss before you squeezed your eyes shut.
Your whole body seemed to jump as pain shot through your body, almost feeling like you had gotten stabbed by a dagger or shocked with electricity.. perhaps both as you felt his teeth pierce your skin deep before pulling away slightly. Your fingers gripped his shoulder, holding on as if he were to save you although he was your attacker. Just your reaction alone, and perhaps by now to new smell of blood was enough to cause Loki to moan against your skin, pressing himself against you as if he had no intention on letting you go.
The next thing you felt was his lips against your wound, the pain still stinging as you tried to move your head but his hand still on your jaw prevented you from doing so, wanting to remain in his access to your neck while he began to suck at you.
It was like a sort of tingling, it felt like you were being given a hickey but with a stronger suction. Much stronger. It was a strange feeling, feeling your blood leave your body and one could almost miss it if they weren't paying close attention. You felt Loki's body relax a little, knowing his hunger was being satisfied as he drank from you. it was almost explicit, exotic in the strange world of sexual pleasure where your fear seemed to be subsiding and your eyes closed, resting your head back as your lips parted. Your attention switched once he began grinding himself against you again, causing you to shiver as your pleasure began to build.
''Loki...'' you breathed in pleasure and reopened your eyes with a small smile, yet that smile only lasted for so long before you began seeing your vison grow fuzzy.
Blood loss will do that.
Your body began to tense, panic seemed to set in as he seemed to have no intention of stopped and you knew the risk if you lost to much blood- or all. He always paid attention to all your reactions and responses- it was quite frankly his favorite part yet he didn't seem to be letting up as you began squirming, feeling panic from how your vison danced and your strength growing weak- to pleasure as he seemed to keep grinding himself against you.
''L-Loki-'' you whimper, your fingers tightening on his shoulders and your other hand trying to pull out of his. ''P-Please..''
A yelp left your lips as you felt him puncture you once more just below your shoulder, his hand leaving your jaw to pin you by your free shoulder and felt him hum against you as he began drinking again. You felt warm liquid rolling down against your skin by your neck as your body tensed and your lips parted. Words never came as he was quick to swipe the straying blood with his tongue before continuing to drink and you felt his body shiver in pleasure.
Your eyes slowly closed as your body began growing rapidly weak and cold and your grip loosened. Knowing he was happy and alive, sating his torturous hunger was enough to at least give a small smile on your lips before everything went black.
~
Cold, slender fingers slowly stroked your cheek as you reopened your eyes again. Your memory was fuzzy but you knew you had passed out for quite awhile. Your vision met a warm, yellow light, indicating you were laying upon the healers table and you found your body feeling normal.
Moving your head to the side to see who was caressing your cheek, your eyes met the prince's blue ones and a small smile of relief was on his lips as he kneeled down on his knee to be more at your level.
''darling.. I'm glad you are well..'' he said, guilt behind his voice as his eyes moved over your body as if the healing missed anything before moving back to your own, seeing how you seemed relaxed and honestly.. smiling.
''I am well Loki, and am glad you could say the same.. you're looking much better'' you admit quietly, your hand raising up to hold his hand and he opted for it as he stopped stroking your cheek.
''I shall be forever grateful my lady..'' he gently teased as gazed off slightly, his smile fading a bit. ''..it's to dangerous to do it again.. you passed out for some time''
''that's what the table is for Loki- I'll be fine-''
''not with me darling.. I found myself unable to pull away, to have self-control.. I couldn't stop. I didn't want to- I didn't care.. you are lucky you woke up..'' he said sadly, his eyes searching yours as you slowly brought yourself to sit up.
Despite your usual shy state and the constant reminder of your position, this was between lovers. So you brought your hand up too his cheek without hesitation in a gentle stroke, just as he had to yours to wake you up; feeling him lean into your hand as he closed his eyes with shame.
''love is about sacrifice.. if you fought yourself at the door of death Loki, I'd gladly throw myself in replace if it meant saving you. I'll do it again if I find yourself looking the way you had.'' You promised, seeing how he opened your eyes as if he had to search for any sort of lie, shocked as you never hesitated to show how much you felt about him as he brought his hand up to rest against yours.
''I swear by it Y/N.. for you, I will not rest until I have brought myself into a state of self-control.. I will not lose you for the sake of sating myself of the temptation of blood..''
Your eyes gazed upon his, how your smile inspired his own as you brought your arms around his neck to pull him closer. His arms didn't hesitate to wrap around you as well as you both held each other and the great weight of his secret could be felt lifting from his shoulders as he buried his face into your neck with his body fully relaxing. You stroked his hair, just how he liked as you rested your chin against his shoulder and the strong feeling of boldness filled your chest. At the same time, your cheeks reddened at the very thought and darkened once the words left your lips.
''..are you hungry for something else?'' you asked, maybe a bit to seductively as he slowly pulled away from you, his eyes flicking down at your lower self with a smirk spreading over his lips as he gazed back into your eyes.
''..quite starving my darling.''
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yawnderu · 11 months
Text
Bruises That Bloom Purple — TF141 x Reader
>This was originally going to be a part of my 141 x Reader fanfic Stray, though I decided to change the ending, so have this angst one-shot instead.
When Johnny left them, they mourned. But he also took a part of Stray; the part that made her human.
The journal in your hands was a reminder of everything you lost— everything that Johnny had in mind ever since he met the task force. Pages upon pages full of scribbles, drawings, plans. His mind poured into the paper as if he didn't want to forget, some pages stained with coffee and blood, some fully clean. Your hands shook as you held the small book close to your chest, sob after sob escaping your lips for so long that the migraine became a second part of you.
"Johnny..." You cried out, hoping he would walk through the door. Hoping he would appear out of nowhere, hoping he would take you with him, hoping for anything, anything at all that allowed you to see his pretty blue eyes again, to be held securely in his arms again, to be kissed by him again. Fuck, even the image of him hurt.
You didn't lose a teammate— you lost a soulmate. A piece of you, of your soul, a piece so crucial to you Makarov might as well have ripped your heart out and left you to bleed pathetically on the cold floor of the underground tunnel.
You're sobbing so loud you don't even hear the polite knock on the door, eyes screwed shut tightly, sealed by the tears that come flowing down like a broken dam. You don't register anything going on around you until you feel a bare hand on your cheek, vision blurry, yet you can recognize that burly figure anywhere— Simon. You don't do anything other than to keep sobbing, pressing the journal closer to your chest, maybe hoping it'll start sinking into your skin and will allow you to have a part of Johnny within you.
"I'm here, love." He whispers softly, his tone more gentle than anything you've ever heard. He slowly lays in bed with you and brings you closer to his chest, not minding the mess of saliva, tears, and snot now staining his shirt.
"Somethin' to keep your heart safe." He pressed something cold into your hand— Soap's dog tags. You instantly hold them tightly, using them as a lifeline to stay with it. Simon presses a soft kiss against your forehead before his hand presses on the back of your head, holding you even closer, allowing you to cry on him.
"Johnny had the braid you gave him with him all the time, did ya know? Kept it tucked away in his jacket. I r'member him talkin' about it all the time, braggin' about how you gave 'im that." A small chuckle escapes your lips for the first time ever since he died, the sound full of pain and bitterness, yet it was something. It gave Simon all the confirmation he needed to keep talking.
"He kept everythin' you gave 'im. If it wasn't the bloody braid, it was a picture. If it wasn't one of those... it was a letter." And you know it was true. You've read his journal for what feels like hundreds of times, some of the letters you gave him were tucked away in pages with drawings of you. If a letter wasn't there, it was one of the many polaroids he had of you. Some alone, some together, some with the entire task force, including a masked Ghost.
Your throat is too sore from sobbing, you couldn't even speak if you wanted to, so you simply nod while laying your head against his chest. There's something about Simon that has always glued you together— something about the man who, even when you didn't get along at first, gave you an odd sense of comfort. Perhaps it's his smell, perhaps his voice, and maybe even his soul, that always seems to be one with yours.
"For Johnny, 't was a reminder that he was never alone." He kisses your forehead again, one of his hands gently massaging your scalp while the other one rubs up and down your back, spreading the warmth of his hand all over your trembling body.
You remember the exact same moment you gave him that braid. A protection braid made with a small strand of the bottom of your hair, sealed with words of affirmation and wishes of the future, a few months after your relationship with the men started. Love. Survival. Companionship.
"When we..." You began, voice wavering and weak, yet it had Simon's full focus. "When we scatter his ashes, can you do me a favor?" He'd do anything for you.
At 15:30, the 141 arrived at the cliff. You're all stuck in silence for a few minutes, mourning in your own ways while looking at the sunset and the ocean below you. The view is nothing short of breathtaking, yet the heartbreak is too great to fully appreciate it. You can't help but think Johnny would have loved this view, but the thought is quickly interrupted.
"He was the best of us." Price says, gravely voice growing even deeper at the pain of losing such an important part of his soul.
"The toughest." Gaz continues, looking into the ocean.
"He'd've fought the world bare handed..." Simon replies and all you can do is look into the water, trying your best to hold it together. Simon leans down, grabbing the urn from his backpack. He holds it up and you all put your hands on it, holding a part of Johnny for the last time.
"Who dares wins..." And win he did. At the very least, Johnny found a family.
"Sleep easy, soldier." More than a soldier, Johnny was the son he never had.
"See you down range, brother... we'll take it from here."
"Rest easy, my friend. You’ll never be forgotten." You fought off the urge to call him your love, your soulmate, yet they all knew what was in your mind.
"Rest in peace, Johnny." The words barely came out of his lips. It was like losing Tommy all over again. Simon opens the urn and lets the wind take Johnny's ashes, flying away, freeing his soul. You all look at him go and you manage to let a small smile take over your lips, watching proudly as he flies away, despite knowing he took a part of your soul with him.
Simon and you stay behind, knowing Price and Gaz will be waiting in the car for you. You slowly sink down to your knees, hands resting on your lap. It doesn't take long before Simon kneels behind you, hands gathering your hair before he begins to braid.
Revenge. Death. Vengeance.
His free hand pulls out a combat knife that belonged to Soap, lining up the razor sharp blade to your hair. With one smooth motion, he slides through the hair easily, letting the now shoulder length strands fall free. He places the braid on your lap and you look down at it, eventually letting the hair go down the cliff the same way you let go of Johnny.
You never let go of grief— you grow around it. And despite the agony your soul is in, you know these three men will do anything for you, the same way you'll do anything for them.
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