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quizzicalwriter · 7 months

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dally Winston x hyperfemme, soc!reader

You can make it nsfw or just fluff x

It’s you, it’s you

Pairing: Dallas Winston x Fem/Soc!reader

Summary: Dallas wasn’t one to be cordial with Soc’s on the best of days, so how the hell had you wove your way through his heart?

Warnings: Smut. MDNI. Soft Dallas, touching, kissing, fingering, morning sex. It’s cute and I need more soft Dallas moments, he’s capable of being soft dammit.

A/N: Thank you for the request!

Word Count: 2.9k

If someone had told Dallas a year ago he’d be wrapped around the finger of a Soc he would’ve punched the shit out of them, out of principle, of course. Yet here he was, staring up at your bedroom window, wagering on if he could make it up onto the roof if he used the railing from the porch as his footing. He’d had to sneak in to see you after getting caught between your legs by your less-than-thrilled father who subsequently chased him off the lawn with a shotgun.

It sounded cliche, but it was true. The talk you’d had with your parents after the fact mortified you more than anything you’d ever had to go through up until that point. How you were a ‘good girl’, how you had a ‘pedigree.’ Their words made you feel like a damn dog, but that’s all they ever spoke of when it came to you, how you were supposed to marry someone rich and keep the family name out of the dirt.

If it’d been years ago you might’ve been inclined to agree, but that was then, and now you were just as whipped for Dallas as he was for you. You two continued to meet, albeit a bit more secretive than before, usually unprompted and random on his part if he could help it. He liked the way you smiled whenever he showed up unannounced, how you’d scramble to your feet to throw your arms around his neck and kiss him. It made him feel funny, made his heart thump harder in his chest, something he’d never felt with anyone before.

So instead of you sneaking him in as you always did, both of you whispering and tiptoeing up to your bedroom, he decided he could hop up onto the roof. He dried his hands on his jeans, murmuring some self-encouragement under his breath as he ran toward the porch. Somehow he successfully propped himself up on the railing, his hands clutching the lip of the roof for dear life. As he propped his upper half up on the roof his knees knocked against the wooden rails along your parent’s front porch. He stilled, bottom half still swinging in the air as he prayed for your parents to have slept through the noise.

Somehow they did, and after a moment he hoisted himself up onto the roof, taking a moment to catch his breath before moving around the side toward your bedroom window. He’d been dusting off his jeans when he locked eyes with your form, hand behind yourself as you raked your hair back, detangling it from what he could see. But in truth all he could focus on was the near sheer quality of your nightgown, the white fabric clinging to your skin that still appeared wet.

He could hear music softly humming from your record player, your hips swaying in tandem with the beat as you applied your moisturizer. He was mesmerized, standing like an idiot on your parent's roof staring into your bedroom window, unable to tear himself away from the heavenly sight that played out before him. Only when you turned around and locked eyes with him did he move, but in your mind, his figure didn’t register as him, it was just some random guy on your roof. So you stumbled backward, bumping into your dresser as a scream built in your chest.

Dallas could see the fear written across your face, so he moved toward the window, cursing under his breath as he motioned to his face. “It’s me!” He whisper shouted, laughter following his words as your face relaxed, fear soon replaced by blatant irritation as you padded over to your bedroom window, unlocking it and lifting it for him to crawl in.

“You’re a psychopath, you know that?” You huffed out, unable to hide the smile on your lips as you watched him duck into your bedroom. “How’d you get up here? Did you jump?”

“Porch railing.” He stated, tone nonchalant as he closed the window behind him, turning to you with a grin. “C’mon, sweetheart, don’t act like you ain’t happy to see me.”

You’d never been good at lying, especially when it came to Dallas, so instead of playing the part of an irritated girlfriend you moved toward him, looping your arms around his neck as you placed a gentle kiss on his waiting lips. You could smell cigarette smoke on his skin, surely from one he’d smoked on his way over to your house. It wasn’t too long of a walk, but you knew him well enough to know that any walk longer than five minutes would result in a cigarette between his lips.

“Missed you.” You murmured against his lips, pulling back a fraction to tilt your head back to meet his gaze. “Did you want to sleep over?”

The words were so innocent, innocent enough that it left Dallas’s heart aching in his chest, a smile he couldn’t will away if he tried writing itself across his face as you looked up at him, doe-eyes wide with hope. He nodded, placing a kiss on your forehead as you giggled in excitement.

“You chose the perfect day.” You replied, backing away from him before motioning proudly to your bed, the bedsheets and pillows all puffed up and pretty. “Just washed them, they’re nice and warm.”

He hummed out a laugh, kicking off his shoes before moving over to the bed, smoothing his hand out against the sheets. They felt silken under his touch, as much as he wanted his thoughts to remain pure he could only picture how you’d looked only a week ago, face down and rutting your hips back into him as he fucked you.

“They’re nice, doll.” He whispered, turning to you with a smile. You flushed, moving over to him before propping yourself up on the bed, white nightgown billowing with the movement, giving Dallas a perfect view of your ass before it was covered once more. He gave himself a moment, clearing his throat quietly before joining you on your bed, pulling you flush with his chest in a manner he knew you loved.

You tucked your head into his chest, breathing in his scent, the familiar mixture of cigarette smoke and cologne. You’d always loved moments like that, being held by him, savoring the shared comfortable silence. He was a rugged person, someone whose childhood was the polar opposite of your own. You never spoke of it, but in the moments he held you, resting his cheek against the top of your head, you could feel it healing something within him.

“Stuffed animals are diggin’ into my back, man.” He grumbled out, lifting himself momentarily to pull one of your stuffed animals out from underneath him. He looked down at you, holding the plush in his hand with his eyebrows raised in disbelief. “Is this new? Where the hell do they keep coming from?”

You laughed, extending out your hand to grab at the poor thing, placing it behind you on top of your pillow. “Be nice, Dal! They have feelings.”

“Sure, doll.” He responded through a laugh of his own, making himself comfortable by your side again. He’d bought you one or two, those were the ones you constantly kept on your bed, loving how they reminded you of him. But honestly, the rest were cute to you and you couldn’t pass them up. It was like your dresses or your nightgowns, if something looked cute you felt a pull to get it - and you did.

His hand traced up and down along your back, loving the feel of your nightgown paired with the warmth of your skin pouring through it. You relaxed into the touch, unconsciously arching your back whenever he’d near your neck, the sight making him laugh quietly to himself. You only hummed in response, eyes fluttering shut as you felt sleep creep onto you like a warm blanket. Dallas had a way of calming you that stunned you, little did you know you had the very same effect on him to the point that the guys had asked what had gotten into him as of late, how he wasn’t as quick to anger as he used to be. He’d tell them about you in the future, but he wanted to keep you to himself, for now, anyway.

As your breaths turned soft he watched you, a subtle smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he raised his hand to brush your hair from your face, gingerly helping it behind your ear. He hadn’t been planning on you falling asleep in his arms within the first ten minutes of him being in your room, but he wasn’t exactly complaining about the situation either. In a bid to get comfortable, he stretched his legs, a small groan emanating from his chest at the feeling. Your face scrunched, lips pouted as you pushed yourself closer to his side. He let you, wrapping his arm securely around you as he let his head fall back against one of the many pillows you had on your bed.

You couldn’t remember when you’d fallen asleep, but by the time you’d woken up the morning sun poured through your bedroom windows, your bed noticeably empty. You whined, wiping at your eyes as you tried to focus through the sleepiness still lingering in your veins.

“I’m still here.” Dallas responded, directing your attention over to one of your bedroom windows where he stood hunched over, peering out the glass. He looked over his shoulder to you, giving you a faint smile as he straightened himself out, hair a mess from having just woken up. “Your parents are gone.”

You nodded, stretching your arms over yourself as you moved to sit up on your bed. “They have work.” Your words were interrupted by a yawn, face scrunching up as the remainder of your tiredness trickled from your mind.

Dallas moved back to your bed, gentle with his movements as he placed his hands on either side of your hips, his lips seeking yours. You smiled into the kiss, hands moving to cup his jaw as you laid back on your bed, pulling him on top of you. His skin was so warm, making you shiver slightly. You nudged the sheets down with your foot, helping him underneath them before pulling them back over the both of you, enveloping you both in warmth. He moved his lips from yours, trailing kisses along your jaw and onto your throat. You tilted your head back, quiet sighs falling past your lips as you let your eyes flutter shut, focusing entirely on the feeling of Dallas touching you.

His hand smoothed up and underneath your nightgown, fingertips grazing over your clothed cunt and over your stomach, goosebumps following wherever his touch went. Your breath caught in your chest as his hand cupped your breast, thumb circling the soft skin there as his other arm rested beside your head, propping himself up over you. His knee moved between your legs, applying steady pressure to your cunt, your hips instinctually rolling down against him.

“Dal-“ You whined, feeling your wetness coating your underwear as you continued rutting against his thigh. You were desperate, desperate for his fingers, tongue, anything he’d give you. He could hear the desperation in your tone, a coy smile upon his lips as he lifted his head, leaning up to you to press a kiss to your cheek.

He hummed against your skin, hand moving to cup your sex against his knee, fingers prodding against the outline of your folds, delicately rubbing his fingers up and down. Your hips bucked into his touch, whines falling from your lips as you wordlessly begged him for more. You could hear the slickness of your arousal against his fingers, even through the fabric of your underwear. The sound caused Dallas to smile against your temple, placing a chaste kiss there before moving his hand to hook around the hem of your underwear, slowly pulling them down and off of you.

His hand moved back between your thighs, middle and ring finger separating your folds before pushing into your cunt, gingerly brushing against that spot within you that had your legs trembling against him. Your head fell back against your pillow, soft whines of his name tumbling past your lips as he pushed his fingers deeper, wanting to feel you wrapped tight around his fingers for as long as you could manage.

He trailed his lips down your cheek, onto your throat, taking a moment to leave love marks against your soft flesh before moving to kiss along your chest. You could feel his thumb circling your clit, the added sensation making you rock your hips against his touch, your cunt fluttering around his fingers.

“Can feel you squeezing my fingers, doll.” He murmured against your skin, taking your breast into his mouth, moaning against it as he began moving his fingers faster within you. You could only whimper, back arching from the bed as your arms wrapped languidly around him, not wanting him to move from his current position. When your moans picked up an octave he pulled away, slowly pulling his fingers from your cunt, but continuing his movements against your clit.

“Want you cumming on my cock.” He whispered, voice hoarse as he moved his hand from you for a moment, pulling his pants and boxers down enough to free his cock. You wrapped your legs around his hips, scooting yourself down slightly to bring your cunt flush with his hard cock. You could feel his precum smearing against your folds as he guided himself into you, his eyes fluttering at the feeling of your tight heat enveloping him, pulling him deeper within you.

As soon as he’d bottomed out inside of you he moved back up to you, arms on either side of your shoulders. He looked so angelic above you, morning sun highlighting his features, soft lips parted, hair a mess. You’d wanted to take a moment to savor him like that, but the thoughts were wiped from your mind as he rolled his hips into you, tip brushing against your cervix. Your eyebrows furrowed, a drawn-out moan leaving you as you wrapped your arms around his neck, nails subtly digging into the flesh of his back.

He smiled down at you, pulling out halfway before jutting his hips forward, the motion pulling a gasp from your lungs, cunt tightening around him. His hand moved to your hip, squeezing the muscle and plush skin as he fucked you, keeping the same slow and deep pace all the while. You moved your hand down between you, swirling your fingers around your clit as he moved within you. Your eyes stayed locked with his, loving how connected you felt in that moment.

Your free hand moved to cup the back of his neck, fingers threading through his hair. He moved his hand, grabbing your wrist that rested against his shoulder, intertwining his fingers with yours before pressing it back against the bed. You tightened your grasp on his hand, the cold metal of his ring digging into your knuckle, but you only cared about the way he looked down at you, how his cock felt buried inside of you, brushing against that spot paired with your fingers circling your clit.

You could feel your orgasm building in your lower stomach, your hips beginning to rock with his, cunt squeezing around his cock. He sucked in a sharp breath, exhale faltering as he leaned down to connect your lips once more. You moaned into the kiss, squeezing his hand harder as you felt your orgasm sweep through you, causing your hips to jerk slightly as he continued fucking you through it. He swallowed your moans, not pulling away from the kiss until his lungs burned, aching for air.

He pulled away with a groan, eyebrows furrowed together as he pulled out of you, hand moving down to pump himself through his orgasm, painting your lower stomach milky white with his cum. You caught your breath, watching with parted lips as he fucked his hand, the way his head fell back, a moan falling past his lips. The sight was gorgeous enough to make you clench around nothing.

His eyes moved back up to yours, a soft smile enveloping his lips as he leaned down to press a kiss to your forehead. You smiled, tilting your head back to feel his lips against yours. He smiled into the kiss, tilting his head to the side to press kisses against your cheek and jaw, the softness of it making you laugh, eyes squeezing shut at the ticklish feeling of his laughter brushing against your skin.

He moved to lay beside you, a short groan following the movement, causing you to look over at him. He sighed, an irritated sound as he arched his back up, fishing another stuffed animal free from underneath his back. He looked at you, the look making you cover your mouth to conceal another fit of laughter.

“You have too damn many.” He grunted out, placing the stuffed animal onto the pillow beside you. “Too damn many.”

You pouted, wiping your lower stomach free of his cum with the bottom of your nightgown, making a mental note to hide the fabric at the bottom of your laundry hamper before he left. You rolled over to face him, leaning up to place a kiss on his nose.

“Not enough.” You replied, words ending in a giggle as he rolled his eyes, although a hint of a smile could be found tugging at the corners of his lips.

“Whatever you say, doll.”

A/N: My phone died editing this. Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy this! Even if you skip it over I appreciate the interaction with my work nonetheless. As always, you can find my work over on my ao3 account under the user, “Unscriptural.” I hope you guys enjoy soft Dallas as much as I do!

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sapphicmsmarvel · 2 months

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cassian x reader: dating a high maintenance girlie

Hello, if this seems extra its cause it is but this is quite literally my high maintenance routine. This is just one of my favorite parts of life and I love the idea of these big burly men doing skincare with their girls.

i’m a high maintenance girly bc i like to be. pls this isn’t a pick me bullshit type thing. Im a girls girl yall.

-This man doesn’t know shit about self care.

-He knows the basics but like, nothing that would genuinely make him feel comfy in his own skin even more than he already is.

-He uses 3-in-1. Technically 4-in-1 because face wash is separate formula than body wash but you digress.

-Y'all know that stereotype of a guy glowing up after getting a girlfriend? You guys were the blueprint for that.

-You taught him his hair type (2A), his skin type (dry), his preferred scent profile for himself (spicy, woody, aromatic). What his favorite types of care products are, he loves leave-in conditioner, cream cleansers. He’s not a fan of super heavy moisturizers because he’ll get overstimulated.

-These are just things this man has never thought about.

-When you two leave the house for a Court Duty, you end up doing Cassian's hair. He wants to look nice, for lots of reasons, but especially because he wants to be let back into Summer. He wants to be able to take you on Summer Court dates!

-He lives for that sliver of time you’re able to squeeze in before going somewhere. You doing his hair, him staring at you in the mirror if you’re behind him. If you’re in front of him, his large hands on your plush hips as you bite your lip in concentration trying to make his wild hair look nice. The feeling of your fingers through his scalp and how even when there’s a knot, you never tug or pull hard enough that it hurts him. You’re gentle and sweet with him even when he thinks he doesn’t deserve it (spoiler: he always deserves it)

-He loves how high maintenance you are, it helps him remember to take care of himself.

-You do a little self care sunday reset type of thing. It helps you get ready for the week.

-He finds these routines utterly fascinating.

-He begs to watch you do them, not even in the dirty way but it's just so interesting to watch. You also banned him from getting frisky when you do the routines. This was your time, he was welcome to watch but he would step out if you asked because you needed to be alone.

-Some days, your routines are a bit more intense, such as the monthly waxing for your legs and armpits. Coochie too.

-He flinches every single time he watches you wax some part of you, especially the coochie. He kind of has an attachment to that part.

-You do the whole shabang sometimes. Wax legs, armpits, etc. Exfoliating shampoo, regular shampoo, conditioning mask, conditioner. Then the body stuff, exfoliating, shaving any parts you didn’t want to wax, double cleansing your body with antibacterial then the fun scented stuff. Then when you’re out of the bath, face extractions, face wash, whatever else you want to add. And then body creams. Then you’re done.

-He’s just amazed every single time.

-He also loves that you make a little thing out of it. You make it fun for you. There's a whole closet filled with different scents, treatments, formulas, etc.

-You always smell good. There are deodorants shoved in every single bag you own, every room for that matter. Massive perfume, bodycare, candle, anything that makes a room or you smell good, you have it.

-Even going to bed, you put perfume on.

-He loves that you say “I only wear it for myself Cass, it’s just a bonus that you love it.” Because he knows it’s true.

-Sometimes he goes in just to sniff around. The fool just stands there and sniffs stuff. You had no idea why he decided to sit in the closet and sniff things in the dark. However, you did know that when you opened the door to see a nearly 7 foot tall clown smelling your beloved collection, you screamed bloody murder.

So loud Azriel came running with his knives. Cassian just looked at you like “what’s your deal bro?”

You were trained by two of the most powerful warriors, yet your first reaction was to scream.

“Why didn’t you try to fight me?” Cassian asked, “I’ve seen you kick someone down for less.”

“I am in my bathrobe Cassian! You want me swinging my legs around with my flaps out?”

Azriel chose to leave the room after that.

-You also always have perfectly manicured nails. And somehow someway you taught your tricks to the Valkyries so now they are able to have beautiful nails while still disemboweling enemies.

-Great, now he and Az have four she-devils with perfectly manicured nails and glossy hair that can slay their enemies with one swipe. The four of you were feral together. He wouldn’t be surprised if he walked into the camps one day to see some guys dead because they were sexist.

-You also got him and Az roped into these skincare nights.

-He loves sitting there with a face mask on and you using one of your crystal rollers rolling it onto his skin. Bougie bitch eats it up.

-One of your favorite things to do is wear a sheet mask and hide in a closet. Scares him every single time.

-Your stuff is everywhere, you’d be damned if you were uncomfy in your own home. After talking to Cassian and Azriel to make sure you weren’t being a shitty roommate, you kind of went crazy.

-Lip balms in every room, hand creams, candles. Hair ties and claw clips. Fuzzy blankets stashed in every trunk you could find.

-Rhys made fun of it, but ate his words pretty quickly when Feyre saw the beauty of having lip balms and hair ties/claw clips stashed everywhere. (and he later found the joys of said products and gave you a gift basket as an apology….you didn’t even remember that he judged you because you simply didn’t care).

-Also, the guys live in fucking luxury. The home always smells good, they never have to worry about chapped lips or dry skin. Or pesky hair in the way. Anywhere they want is a blanket or cute pillow to prop their heads up.

-they were living like animals until you showed up.

-Cassian having a mate is the best thing to ever happen to Az.

-Feyre, Nesta, Elain, Emerie, Gwyn, Morrigan and even Amren shop your stash of body care if they wanna smell a certain way for a certain fun time (wink).

-Even Nuala and Cerridwen will approach and ask you. Obviously you say yes. You own so much you’ll never get through everything in time.

-Plus you’re a Girls Girl. You’re gonna be there for your girls in your life.

-Speaking of the ladies in your life.

-When you and Cassian have twin baby girls, you were ecstatic. Either way you were going to be happy but you always wanted a girl and now you have two!

-Teaching them how to take care of their skin and hair has been the best for you and Cassian. He loves watching his girls play with their hair. He loves having his hair braided by them.

-Family self care nights become a Thing (that sometimes an Uncle or Aunt will join).

-He loves you because you taught him how to actually care for himself and his mental health. You showed him how he needs to stop and appreciate the smaller things. That not everything has to be a chore.

-He loves you more than anything, maintenance and all.

#acotar #acofas #acomaf #acowar #acotar x reader #cassian x reader #cassian x you #cassian imagine #cassian acotar

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saleeba · 2 months

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the baby-making manual ; william saliba

summary ♡ baby fever hits the salibas full force.

pairing ♡ william saliba x fem!reader

content ♡ 18+, smut, husband!william, kissing, p in v sex, cunnilingus, reader & wilo are so broody & so in love with each other, missionary, doggystyle, riding, lotus position (yes i’m fucking depraved don’t look at me like that 🤕), soft romantic vibes, breeding kink, praise, body worship, size kink ofccc, clitoral stimulation, titplay, unprotected sex (wrap it before u tap it unless ur name is y/n and ur starring in this fic 🥸), creampie(s), a smidgen of cockwarming, blink and u miss the one french word in here, talks about having kids, aftercare included !!

a/n ♡ the title is so goofy & nobody asked for this but the concept has been eating at my mind since the end of summer + i've had this in the drafts since oct so i gotta put me first lucius 😫😩😫😩😫 anyway this is day one of converting you all into wilo girlies hehe WAKE UP WORLD‼️ pls lmk how u all find this fic btw!! ik it won’t get as much attention as my jude ones bc there prob aren’t as many fans but i rlly would appreciate anything u have to say about it !!! 🫶🏽🥰 enjoyyyy mes chéris!! 😌❤️

an unexpectedly warm spring’s saturday had given cause to an impromptu barbecue held by your parents, and you and william had found yourselves in the company of most of your relatives for the day. how your mother had convinced half the family tree to be present on such short notice you will never know but you were grateful nonetheless, extremely happy to especially see the loved ones you haven’t seen since getting married to your now-husband a couple of years ago.

it’s close to eleven in the night now, your arrival at home being so belated due to the clash between your insistence that you and william had to go home as he had training the next morning and your father’s greater insistence that the two of you stay a little longer for another cup of tea, another plate of food, even the whole night if you wanted to. in the end, you had to put a politely firm foot down, more for william’s sake who can’t say no to your parents for the life of him, and who was on his way to accepting your dad’s invitation to stay the night before you spoke up. you knew the events of last night would repeat for the morning, your parents in a tug-of-war with you to make you guys stay for breakfast but you supported your case with the argument of the long drive home and the fact that mikel wouldn’t appreciate william’s tardiness the next day, especially at such a significant time in the season.

you’re sitting in bed by yourself right now with a novel in hand – william having gone to take a much-needed relaxing shower – inwardly laughing to yourself over your husband’s people-pleasing antics and your mind meanders to the scenes of this afternoon, the sounds of children’s laughter and adults’ gossip in the air accompanied with the smokey scent of grilled food taking over your senses. you reencounter images of william chasing your little cousins, nieces and nephews around the garden — small, sweet giggles mixed with william’s deeper chuckles as they’re all engaged in an exhilarating game of tag, little feet and large padding around the property.

your thoughts are pulled back into reality when the ensuite door clicks open, a cloud of steam puffing into the bedroom before it reveals your husband clad in nothing but a white towel around his waist, droplets of water dotted on his toned chest and abdomen. it’s a sheer sight for sore eyes and one that you will never tire of so you shamelessly watch as he smiles at you before gliding across the room, moving to his vanity to apply generous amounts of body lotion to bring back moisture to his skin, the action making his skin glow so prettily under the warm lighting of the bedroom.

it’s these moments of silent appreciation that have you feeling like the luckiest girl in the universe; an adonis of a lover in your bedroom, one that would move heaven and earth at your beck and call, and there’s denying that you would do the same for him.

in all your daydreaming, william’s moved on to pulling his pajamas on for bedtime, a pair of dark grey boxer shorts acting as said pajamas as he opts to go shirtless in fear of overheating on such a toasty night. you place your novel down, the previously read page distinguished with a bookmark, as william places a soft kiss on your forehead before tucking you both in under the thin sheets.

“mum was really bad with the baby talk this time, wasn’t she?” you turn your body on its spot, head propped up by a bend of your arm as you face william who lifts his head at your rhetoric question. “i mean, you did look so fucking adorable with the kids today so i don’t know if i should say sorry on her behalf.”

“not at all,” he only lets out a breathy laugh, now mirroring you in the shift of his own body. “i’ve had most people asking me about it now.”

“really?”

you’re quite shocked to learn that there are indeed a lot of people who are eager to see william and yourself have a family of your own and that it’s not just pestering from your mother in particular, who has asked about when she will be seeing grandchildren from her daughter and “favourite son-in-law” from the moment the two of you had just about exchanged rings. you’ve grown accustomed to answering with the same old ‘we want to focus on us/our careers/our freedom’ response but there’s a little curious something that’s pulling the two of you to consider everyone’s requests.

“mmhm, i think i could count the number of people at the club that have asked me about it using my hands and my feet,” the pair of you laugh at this, a shake of your head over how believable that comment is despite it sounding so silly since the environment of your husband’s workplace is so close-knit and everyone is comfortable with each other. “it’s not just that, though, is it?”

“no?” you question his tone turned serious now.

“when i see the guys and their kids, i can’t help wondering what i might be like in those sorts of situations, y’know?” you sit up at his words, heart racing a little faster with the way he looks at you; looks into you as he again copies your movements, taking your hands in his after leaning his shoulder against the headboard. “can’t help wondering what it would be like seeing you and a mini version of us in the stands during a match… wanna see our baby matching shirts with their papa, wanna hear their tiny voice cheer my name…”

you swear you feel your heart stop as soon as his lips form the words ‘our baby’.

“oh, william,” you sigh over his thoughts spoken aloud, a slight pang of guilt hitting at your heartstrings and causing your eyes to tear up just a little. “why didn’t you tell me about all this, hm?”

you had no idea of his desire to have children, always assuming his response to everyone’s questions to be the same as yours and believing that he wanted to prioritise football over starting a family with you for at least a couple more years.

“it’s not your fault, sweetheart, not at all.” his fingers swipe under your eyes in precaution against any spilt tears. “having a baby, hell, even wanting a baby... it’s a big deal; it’s hard to just drop it into a conversation if that makes sense.”

“of course, that makes plenty of sense,” his hands grip yours in a tight embrace, placing a kiss on the slightly trembling digits in an attempt to soothe you. “you really want to have a baby with me?”

william laughs softly at your words and the way you sit with your mouth gaping, starry-eyed with a million thoughts racing through your mind.

“no, i want to have a baby with mrs khan next door.” he deadpans, referring to your elderly neighbour, before you shove at his shoulder, a blush overcoming your cheeks as you realise how daft your question is, disbelief over how much william wants to be a dad seeping into the way you’re thinking right now. “you’re the only woman that i want as the mother of my children, y/n, the only one.”

his eyes look even more beautiful in the peek of moonlight through the curtains and you fear your heart may give out tonight, squeezing so hard in your chest with the love that you feel for your husband.

“can i kiss you, baby?” he asks so politely, thumb running over the plumpness of your bottom lip. even after so many years together, he’s always the gentleman but still, you tell him that he doesn’t need to ask anymore — you are his to have as he is yours.

his lips descend upon yours with a gentle force, hands clasping over your waist where the black silk material of your short nightdress stops him from touching the warmth of your soft skin. instead, william decides to pick you up and place you on his lap, the urge to feel your body as close to his as possible controlling his actions, your knees dropping to either side of him as your clothed chest meets his bare one.

as the kiss deepens on what seems like its own accord, you feel yourself growing wetter, thankful for your earlier decision to forgo underwear for the night as you grind down onto william’s lap, the cotton of his boxers creating delicious friction on where you need it the most.

breathless sighs turn into light moans from the two of you as william tightens his grip on your waist with the same strength your core presses down onto his hardening length before he turns you both over to have you on your back, his form hovering over yours, lips ghosting over the nook where your neck meets your shoulders, leaving an eruption of goosebumps in its trail.

in the pleasured shutting of your eyes, you can feel william’s hands pull down the loose straps of your nightdress, then a kiss on each shoulder and then the heat of his breath over your exposed breasts.

“so beautiful, darling,” he looks up to your blushing face, the compliment painting a shy smile on it before his lips wrap around your left nipple with wasting any time. a whine is pulled from your lungs over the way william suckles on the nub, a tiny tug of it between his teeth causing you to arch your chest further into his mouth. of course, he doesn’t forget to pay attention to your right boob, taking his sweet time in kissing and swirling his tongue around the stiffness of the other side. “how did i get so lucky, hmm?”

you whimper in response as he brushes his lips down your body over your nightdress; from under your breasts, over your navel and arriving at the base of your tummy, where he places the firmest kiss of them all atop of the lustrous material.

“william…”

“gonna take care of you, baby, i promise.”

his hands now come down to your thighs, where the inner parts are sticky with arousal, and he hoists the hem of your dress up past your bellybutton, the pressing together of your legs to soothe the ache of your core as a light breeze hits it inciting your husband to part them and find home in the self-made gap. his head lowers to where your pussy lays nearly leaking onto the sheets and your breaths quicken, reaching an all-time rapid high when william plants a kiss on your clit, one so soft that it would’ve been deemed innocent had it not been in the midst of an action so filthy.

in the ‘o’-shapedness of your mouth, amorous sighs escape as he starts his attack on your wetness — mouth open, tongue out, lapping at your juices as you sing his praises in the form of high-pitched moans. his tongue slips past your drenched folds to find your sopping hole, the tip of it poking past your entrance as he’s full-on eating you out now, open-mouthed moans from the simple pleasure of your pussy on his lips almost drowning out your sounds.

there’s a particularly lusty moan from you when his thumb finds your tense clit, a couple of rubs on it releasing a string of cries out of the confines of your lips as your legs tremble from their position on his shoulders. from the very beginning of your married life, william had made it his mission to become well-acquainted with you in the bedroom, and you think he’s succeeded as the way he knows which buttons to press to get you to cum at his mercy is very telling, fingers working expertly in toying with your sensitive nub as your walls clench around nothing but the conjured-up image of cumming all over his mouth and pretty face.

“william… i-” you start but are soon interrupted by the intense sucking of your already pounding clit between his moistened lips. the wail you let leave your body is almost pitiful, the feeling so fucking good but so sudden and unexpected that you fall head-first into your orgasm, crashing into it with a spasm of your thighs around william’s head, pawing at his dark hair for some inkling of relief and grounding since you truly believe you’re about to lose all sense of reality with how strong this orgasm has hit you.

william doesn’t relent despite your convulsions, placing kisses over your clenching pussy and shaky abdomen. you manage to still your involuntary motions to catch a glimpse of his face in all its glory; his lips glistening wet with your release and his eyes darker than ever, impossible to distinguish the colour of his pupils from the colour of his irises, an unfolding plan of what’s to come for you both behind his soft gaze.

“did so, so good for me, my love,” he praises, kissing you through panting breaths from the both of you. “want to feel you around me, fuck, need to feel you around me, baby.”

you go to deny him at first, nestling your hand against the bulge of his boxers but he’s quick to deny you in turn.

“no, baby, tonight’s for you, ok? just wanna take care of everything— take care of you.”

you nod in acceptance, knowing that arguing with him would be futile, a gentle flame in his eyes telling you of his determination to do nothing but be at your service until the sun comes up.

“how do you want me first, amour?”

you almost swoon at the question, unable to believe that you essentially have this man at your mercy now, getting dizzy over choosing whether you want to ride him into oblivion first or save that for later and have him take you from behind to start with. either way, you know that tonight was no night for a meagre one round.

“how about as we are right now?” you suggest, the current arrangement of you on your back and william on top proving perfectly convenient for you guys to start with your favourite position in bed.

“sounds perfect, baby,” he smiles before getting up to rid his body of those grey boxers and then almost leaning over you to pull a condom from the nightstand before he stops himself midway, the both of you realising that this is a habit that will need to be unlearnt now. a pair of giggles erupts between you and a silent agreement to forget the condom for the whole purpose of tonight is sealed with a rerouted kiss from william. he then prompts you to lift your hips so he can slot a pillow underneath them and have you as comfortable as you can get. you can’t resist biting your bottom lip at the pulsating anticipation between the two of you, the sight of his bare cock admittedly making your mouth water.

now back on the bed and parting your legs, william resituates himself in between, this time with his cock in his hand running down your increasingly dripping slit, the occasional dip past your folds making you wince in an addictive combination of overstimulation and urgency.

“shit, angel, i’m sorry,” his apology is sincere as he searches your eyes for signs of discomfort. “we don’t have to do this right now, we can take a break, do you want me to ge–”

“babe, i’m fine, okay?” you huff out a laugh, your husband’s honestly innocent face tickling your tummy and making your core ache even more. “j-just fuck me, will, please?”

his answer comes in the guise of an assured smooch against your swollen lips, taking the quiet opportunity to sink into your wetness, completely raw for the first time, with a loud deep groan that makes your stomach feel like it’s gloriously folding in on itself. you revel in finally having the naked thickness of his cock inside you, experiencing every ridge, vein and inch of smoothness directly between your gummy walls with a hushed fuck before he gets to work on setting a moderate pace — slow and savouring it seems, his way of saying that he wants this to last as long as it possibly can.

"william… so big..." no matter how many times you've been under him and how many times you say it, it will always ring true; the initial stretch and burn that his cock creates for you will always light a fire of delicious friction, tonight being a million times more special than every previous encounter put together. and no matter how many times william hears it, it will always set his mind ablaze, hips now pistoning at an unfathomable speed as he can’t hold back anymore, moaning and groaning about how good you feel uninterrupted around him, how there'll be no one else for him, how you're everything to him. it all has your pussy gushing around him to no end.

your whimpers warn him of another impending orgasm, the tightening clasp of your cunt and the way you’re clawing at the softness of his lower tummy in sheer desperation make william’s movements falter just the slightest, a whine leaving his throat as he can feel his own climax catching up to him.

“close, baby,” he warns in sentences incomplete, brain whirring on pure pleasure and nothing else but the desire to have you cumming around him. he’s afraid that he may finish a fraction too soon and leave you disappointed so his fingers find your stiffened clit again, the caressing of his thumb a little harsher this time around as part of an effort to get you both to cum at the same time.

the pleasure you’re receiving from the touch of his thumb and the stroke of his dick is almost too much, hands willing their way to pull his off of you but the speed at which your second orgasm hits you beats any other competition to the finish line, pussy barely squeezing to trigger william’s first orgasm of the night; your lover climaxes inside of you with a sound so guttural, it has him almost collapsing against your shaking form but you invite him to do so, a tender hand on the back of his head guiding him to a safe haven in the crook of your neck as the strangely comforting feeling of thick, white liquid streams down your inner thighs. heavy breaths saturate the dimly lit room as you lay with your lover for a moment, warm bodies basking in the aftermath of a shared orgasm.

after a comfortable minute or two, william speaks up, his voice dropped to an octave so deep it relights the fire in your seeping cunt before your head can even process his words.

“how does round two sound to you?” he’s asking amidst the plotting of a few kisses up your jawline.

you’re ready to jump his bones again on your own accord so when you hear the request fall from your husband’s lips, it’s an immediate “yes please” from you, not even bothered to feel shameful about the reeking desperation of your response.

a knowing chuckle and another kiss seal the deal, william pulling your now-creased nightdress over your outstretched arms, leaving you completely bare but free; accessible to his every touch. he asks you to turn around onto your hands and knees, setting the pillow down underneath your lower abdomen as a precaution.

“there we go, angel,” he places a tender kiss at the bottom of your spine, running a hand up the natural curve of your back while you anticipate his next action. “gonna make my pretty girl feel so good tonight, she deserves it all.” your thighs divide instinctively in response to his voice and the sight of his cum glistening on your skin has william choking on a moan, needing to stroke his cock on the white-stained slipperiness.

“william, don’t tease,” you beg with a shake of your ass against his crotch to get him to hurry and slip his length inside of you. “can’t wait anymore.”

your husband obliges immediately, having lubricated his dick enough with his own release off your thighs, pushing into your hole with so much more ease and a filthy squelch as the realisation that the majority of his cum from the previous round is still inside of you hits him. oh, it sends william’s entire being into a lustful frenzy.

“f-fuck, baby, listen to how well i filled you up,” he gasps out, mouth forming an ‘o’ shape as the dirtiest noises he has ever heard emits from where his cock is connected to your pussy.

you’ve done this position more times than you can count but the raw state of his dick plus the way it definitely plunges deeper from all the lubrication william has created inside you has you growing wetter beyond belief, another layer of arousal helping him reach damn near a whole new dimension of your cunt. you don’t want to lend your name to porno-fuelled incorrect biology but you swear he’s in your cervix right now, the pillow now playing its part in hoisting your bottom half up, back arching so beautifully, making it the perfect setup for william to split you in half with every thrust of his length.

between a melody of cries of his name from your worn lips and his deeper moans, you surprisingly cum without a word of warning; it’s fast and it’s hard and it’s white-hot, almost launching your body off the bed entirely. it’s not so surprising, actually, given the speed of william’s pounding inside of your creaming pussy and the resulting splat-splat-splat noise his actions make, all of it way too much, way too depraved and addicting to try and avoid.

“good fucking girl,” your husband grunts out at the sensation of yet another round of your pussy walls spasming around him, another round of hot cum spurting into your hole as he fills you up with an animalistic fuck! marking the round so differently from the last one, which was so full of love, this one in a tone that is much more lewd and untamed.

you’re still on all fours, moaning softly at the flood of cum that spills out of you from around william’s dick and onto the sheets below, cunt still clenching his shaft which doesn’t seem to get any softer despite the two of you having been at it for nearly two hours without a break. your husband, sheathed still in your core, runs a series of kisses up your back, reaching the back of your ear to leave praises of how good you were for him just then and how pretty you look while he’s balls deep inside of you. eventually, he pulls out with a throaty moan, leaving you panting as you fall onto your back to look up at his fucked out expression.

william’s standing there with his hands on his hips, chest heaving, face all smiley and flushed, an image not too dissimilar to one where he’s fresh off a victory on the pitch. you wish you could take a picture of the scenery in front of you but you trust your memory to sear it into place for you instead.

“fucking hell, if i’m not pregnant by now then i don’t even know what to say!” you laugh out at the mess you’ve both made of the sheets and yourselves, and william joins in before quipping in with a “hmm, we should make sure, just in case, of course.” a cheeky tone in his voice as he snuggles his mouth against your neck, the hair on his chin tickling your skin as you squirm on the bed out of ecstatic amusement.

“okay, okay, but first we have to take a break, babe!” you manage to squeal out before william ceases his tickle attack on you, letting you go to the bathroom while he fetches a glass of water from the kitchen.

by the time you’re finished and clean, william has the bed remade and the glass of water held out by the hand upon your return to the bedroom. you shake your head at him, bemused at this butler act he’s now performing.

“your refreshment, mrs. saliba,” he mocks what you assume to be a posh british accent, his own french one adding so much charm to it.

“i thank you, mr. y/l/n,” you smirk back and take a sip, careful not to choke as william pushes your shoulder in jest with an oi before sitting down on the edge of the bed and watching you set the empty glass down on the nightstand.

“so, about that making sure thing,” you pounce on his lap within a split second, settling your hands on the warmed skin of his shoulders.

william throws his head back in a hearty chuckle. “fucking hell, what was in that water?!”

“shut up and kiss me, saliba.” you command and he doesn’t dare to do anything but oblige, lips catching yours in a heated kiss that reinstalls all elements of hunger and lust inside of the pair of you. running your hands down and over the expanse of his chest has william parting his lips in a low groan, you taking the opportunity to slip your tongue inside his mouth and swallow all of his sugary sweet sounds, not wanting any ears other than your own to hear them. the resumed grinding of your naked crotch on william’s has him hardening quickly, another order from you to go lay himself down on the pillows moving scenes on as rapidly as you like.

“good boy,” you admire the way he’s displayed himself for you, long athletic body sprawled out in all its glory, the moonlight a little brighter now that the night has really settled in. “you look so good like this, william, fuck, need to have you inside me now, baby.” a couple of tugs on his stiff cock and you’re sliding down onto it, william’s hands – slightly sweaty from excitement – holding you in place as you begin to rock and raise your body.

there’s a harmonised whine from the two of you as you’re filled with his thickness once again, william encased in your snug, plush walls, and the swivel of your hips atop him makes his teeth grit in euphoria. seeing this spurs you on more, momentum picked up from the way william throws his head back, leaving his neck at your mercy and you of course can’t help but nip and kiss and lick over it, the sounds being pulled from his throat so saccharine and tuneful.

he pants out with a vice-like grip on your hips, the skin white with the extreme grasp his fingers have on it. “s-slow, baby, slow…” he pleads while you rock and grind and bump into his crotch like a woman gone mad, chasing a high that is just at the tips of your fingers… just a little more.

you whine out his name, scratching at his chest where you had previously been resting your hands for leverage, and he finds a little leeway before taking a gulp of courage and sitting up to meet the stirring of your pelvis with his, cock sputtering up into your cunt as he supports you with his large hands behind your back.

the position is possibly the most intimate you’ve been in — naked chest to naked chest, your nipples rubbing against the softness of his pecs, your knees on either side of him as his are crossed underneath you, body so much smaller than his, lips so close to touching with every jerk and bump but never really kissing, always teasing. it’s all so fucking hot and there’s nothing you want more than for him to fill you up once more.

the knock-knock-knock of another orgasm has you pulling him so close against you, practically forcing him to shift his entire weight on top of you. you feel the need to bury him inside your skin. to be bound entirely and irrefutably. his lips, just now attached to the mounds on your chest, start rambling in his native tongue. you're not quite fluent in french but you've been with william long enough to pick up some things; the important things. through his wanton panting and sighing, he's spilling all his desires to you — telling you that he can't wait to see you swollen with his child, can’t wait to see if they’ll have his hair or your smile, can’t wait for you both to finally be the parents you had dreamed of being. there’s a fire in his words and it sets your whole body alight, scratching down his back in vicious streaks that will surely be present for the next week.

“w-william, please,” you wail, legs burning in their effort to capture your awaiting high. “put a baby in me, fuck, please, fuck a baby into me.” freshly hot tears are fully spilling down your cheeks now, the ecstasy of his cock pounding into you and the promises he’s made to you proving too much and you need relief from it all, desperately.

“gonna do just that, angel, gonna fill you up nice and good,” he moans out, pulling you in closer to his gyrating form. “gonna fill you up over and over until we get that baby.”

and that’s the tipping point for you, your husband’s words, so sincerely sweet yet sinful, being the thing to push you over and have you cumming with a thunderous scream of his name. your pussy gushes around his rigid length, walls fluttering around it so forcefully you’re scared they’ll be stuck like this forever. william soon follows with his own orgasm, a few throaty moans that sound so pretty coming from his plump limps as they match the rhythm with which he spurts his sticky cum into you. your legs tremble in both exhaustion and bliss around william, and he’s quick to soothe them over with his hands, mouth landing kisses over your face and your chest.

there’s only a symphony of heavy panting from you both now, and the occasional whimper or soft moan, as william lays on his back with you on top of him, large hands running up and down your back to steady your breathing, his dick still firmly in you. you're pretty sure you've forgotten what it feels like to be empty and without him.

“you okay?” he mumbles into your hair, a loving kiss left on your forehead before he tilts your chin up to look at him, your eyes weary and ready to doze off. you can only muster up an mmhmm but william is determined to end the night perfectly for you.

“hang on, baby, okay?” he requests before slowly pulling out of your heat and dashing to the bathroom where you can hear the din of him rummaging through cupboards and running the bathtub’s taps, leaving you to laze around with a pool of cum leaking out of you. the sudden crash of something metal followed by a shit! is enough to pull you out of the clasps of sleep, however.

your husband reappears swiftly, a boyishly guilty look on his face to which you raise an eyebrow.

“everything’s fine!” he assures your silent questioning. “i want to take care of you right now, though. please?”

you flash him a tired but teasing smile in affirmation and he picks you up bridal-style, giving a quick kiss to your lips before walking you over to the bathtub and gently placing you in the comfortably warm and bubbly water where you feel your muscles instantly relax. the calmingly fragrant scent of chamomile fills your nostrils as you sigh up at your lover.

“thank you, honey,” you speak, a slight croak to your voice from honest exhaustion. william nods at you before plotting another sweet kiss on your temple.

“room for a little one?” he asks with a beautiful grin on his face, teeth all out in his signature style.

“always.” you scoot forwards to make room for him and he slips his much larger frame behind you, instantaneously pulling your back into his chest, hands delicately soothing over your tummy as he delivers a bunch of kisses across the plane of your shoulders.

“sounds stupid but i already have a list of names that i wanna go over with you.” he says shyly after a moment of quiet.

you giggle and set a devoted kiss to the wedding band on his ring finger.

“i’m all ears.”

#MAH DICK FELL AWFF #guys it’s not even funny anymore i NEED him to put a baby in meeeeeeeeee 😫😫😫😫😫😫#literally the only french person that deserves rights EVURRRRRRRR he can put his oui oui baguette right inside this pu-#the only man i would cook and clean for i promiseeeee you #william saliba #william saliba imagine #william saliba smut #william saliba x reader #william saliba x you #william saliba x y/n #football imagine #footballer imagine #footballer smut #˗ˏˋ 📝 ˎˊ˗

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johnnys-breastmilk · 9 months

Text

what are you doing, step-bro? | steve harrington x reader

a/n — something short to get out of that slump! title isnt serious just the inspo behind the fic, enjoy!

words — 1.9k

summary — After a close encounter in the tunnels with the Demo-dogs, Steve finds you in a defenseless position.

warnings — reader is stuck in a "wall", anal, dirty talk, y'all know the drill by now, biblically accurate hairy steve harrington!

~~~

“Guys? Help!”

What had been an easy mission for the Party—traversing the tunnels under Hawkins to cover as much of it with gasoline—didn’t come easy for you. You found yourself buddied up with Steve, who suggested that the two of you split up when you hit a fork in the road. It made sense, each of you had a tank of gasoline, and there seemed to be no presage of danger in either path.

Then came the time when you ran out of something to douse the infected trails with, and you used your walkie, an old and unreliable TRC-206 model, to let the rest of the group know that you were on your way back to their designated meeting place. While retracing your steps, you heard a screech come from the direction you were heading back to. Your eyes darted for a place to hide, and in the dark, bluish-black tunnels, you spotted a faint red glow coming from the tunnel’s wall to your left. You darted to it, assuming that it had to lead to a little divot or room that the creature couldn’t get to. In some long stretch of your willfulness, it led to the tunnel Steve went down and you could get him to fend the alien off. It was a shot in the dark but maybe it would hit the creature head-on and confuse it long enough to save your ass from becoming an otherworldly snack.

You felt like a mouse scampering to its burrow in the night when something stirs.

But the hole was too small, and even though you could fit your upper half in, it was a struggle to get it out. You were embedded into the wall. The rest of your body was stuck on the outside of the thing you now knew to be a portal, as the air and view reflected the stories that members of the Party had shared with you—all of them being their experiences with the Upside Down. Tufted spores floated around you and reacted to your panicked breathing. You tried several times to free yourself but knew it was impossible thanks to the welling of gasoline at your feet, making it impossible to get a solid footing on the ground.

Every channel laid dormant—static being returned as you waited for an answer. Distant calls of the same monster you heard in the tunnel echoed around you here. Footsteps approached, but they were lighter, more focused, and less sporadic like an animal charging at its food. It was the human kind of gait as only two steps could be heard every second or so.

You should have known that splitting up would mean an awkward reunion. You felt at ease when Steve’s voice was the one coming from behind you. He was still in the real world and could pull you back into it. “Hey—jeez, what happened?”

“Steve, thank fuck. I tried hiding from one of those demo-monsters and got stuck. Watch out, it might still be out there.”

“I didn’t see anything, but I don’t want to wait in here to be proven wrong.” Steve shrugged off his backpack and let it hit the ground. The sound of an empty canister of gasoline rang through the tunnel.

“Get me out of here and we can handle it together, at least.” You swore Steve could have agreed, but the worlds-apart separation made some things he said unclear.

Steve spread his stance out to get as close as possible whilst not getting his shoes muddied from the infected soil and gasoline mixture at your feet. His hands—gloved and still coated with moisture and bits of dirt—took ahold of the bottom of your torso just about where the hem of your jeans hugged your body. At first, he tried pulling, a lot of pulling. When you didn’t budge, he got closer and pressed as much of himself as he could against you to find some leverage.

“C’mon…” He groaned. “I’ve never dealt with something this tight before…”

He wasn’t ready to accept defeat, not yet. There was no way in hell he would leave you stuck in the wall, Steve was firm on that. He couldn’t help but feel like he was trying to help a square that actually fit through a circular hole. Steve knew he wasn’t too far off, they were already in a place they didn’t belong in, and this tunnel system must have had passageways for creatures that surely weren’t human. As expected, his countless efforts to pull you back didn’t work.

Steve reached under you, pushing up the layers on your upper half and undoing the button on your jeans. His gloves gave him a bit of trouble but he undid it nonetheless. Cold air ruminated on your skin in all the places where your jeans used to be. You couldn’t see what he had done, but you could feel it and felt the sudden urge to ask.

“What are you doing?” The sensation of fabric layered over itself, irregularly touching you around only your shins and lower let you know he had pulled any sort of protection over your bottom half down.

“Maybe if I loosen you up, rock you back and forth a little, you’ll slip right out? It’s the right kind of movement we need, and it’ll be more fun than doing it clothed, restricting ourselves, yeah?” Steve stepped away, the heat coming off of him and onto you following him back. It wasn’t really Steve that was the issue. No, it was the situation. The noise, the heat signature—if it could read that—would be potential giveaways to your not-so-successful hiding spot.

Your view on it didn’t change, “All I need is your help, Steve.”

“All you needed was a chance to spread your legs for me and you’d do it.” The faint sound of a belt buckle, then a zipper, then the two falling in tandem play out one by one. You couldn’t see it, but he was cupping himself in his one hand. When a tent formed, he stroked himself through his boxers.

What else could you do but insist on him to quit playing games, “Just help me out, Steve.”

His presence ghosted over you again, some of his leg hair gently bristling against your own skin. His boxers must have been gone by this point, though you couldn’t be sure. “I have to help myself, first.”

“This is kind of your fault since you got me all distracted. You couldn’t go crawling in the opposite direction? Well, if it had to be your mouth I’m stuck with…” You felt a smack to your ass. His gloves were gone, probably thrown to the floor and pulled off with his mouth so he could easily send his hand flying down against your markable skin. “But this is even better.”

Steve was his own shade of red and monstrous. His cock, hot and heavy, could faintly be seen as a raging red in the soft blue glow in the underbelly of Hawkins. Blood rushed to the place he struck with his palm the same way it did to his dick. He was fully hard, and you were still solid enough to stay in place—even with his giddyap smack. Then a sharp pain—more painful than a claw or tooth from one of those Demo-demons piercing the outer layers of your body—darted throughout your body. Steve invited himself in, entered without knocking. If there was a name for a rude intrusion, it would describe the pain in your backside perfectly. You thought that he might have done something, anything to prepare you for his home-runner.

There was nothing except some pooling pre-come that had barely formed enough to cover his tip; the friction at your entrance could have been enough to start a fire then and there. A clash of feelings followed by his roughness. Both were deadly combinations with gasoline surrounding your steps, something that you were only reminded of when he entered you and made your legs shake.

He found the gas to be an easy thing to work around, finding the right footing to swing his hips in the motion he claimed would fix it all. Inch by inch, he pushed himself in and hoped that you would move with every inch he pulled out and pushed himself back in. You felt your world shift. One moment, you were jolting forward as he slammed into you, the world of the Upside Down feeling like it was leaping toward you. The next, it felt like that world was slipping away.

Steve moaned, the sound of it channeling through the barrier between the both of you. “I could loo—oh—ook at you like this all day. Just a cumdump for me.”

There was a sensibility in his words—you could be stuck for a while until the Party got shovels, excavators, whatever they needed to get you out of this mess. Until then, you could be all his and have very little power to stop him.

You tried to ground yourself in his world, how Steve felt, specifically. Maybe the thought of being back in that world would make the one you were partly stuck in show pity, if it could understand such a thing in its laws of nature. Steve was hairy, and his pubes tickled your ass when he pressed himself deep into you. His hands were a bit clammy, cold and sweaty from gripping onto you and dealing with the chill inside the tunnels. Notably, he still wore his jacket and shirt, the zipper of the jacket grazing over you with every thrust.

The zipper seemed to disappear, though, like Steve had raised his arm. And sure enough, while you couldn’t see it, he had placed a hand on the soil-like substance that the wall of the tunnel was made out of for support. His other hand came down to strike your ass, sending a harsh smacking sound through the burrow.

When you started to move less and less, the view of the world around you growing still, you could almost tell that Steve was losing his patience. He was ready to come. His intention came true as Steve gave a few final, slow plunges into you and flooded your ass with stickier webbing than what you had pushed through to get into the second world. After the sensation of it all died down for the two of you, you realized that his so-called plan barely worked.

“I haven’t moved an inch!” If anything, he fucked you further into the other world. “Tell me you're done so you can go get some actual help.”

“Not yet, I love seeing you like this, and I’ll be nice…”

You felt your pants and everything slide up your body, being lazily adjusted back into place as they had been when Steve found you. You could feel yourself leaking with his come, getting your underwear wet with him. The faint sounds of his shuffling resounded behind you, and after a moment, he smacked your ass, “Don’t go anywhere! I’ll be back with help!”

#stranger things #x male reader #x reader #gay #steve harrington x male reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington x male!reader #joe keery x y/n #joe keery x reader #joe keery #stranger things x reader #stranger things x male reader

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dahliaes · 2 months

Text

jean tooth rotting fluff (and smut) hcs

content: lily valley jean & fem!reader headcannons, SIZE DIFFERENCE/KINK IM SORRY, very self indulgent, pet name baby ofc, almost subby jean smut hes, just cute stuff all around <33 thank you to @theragethatisdesire for convincing me they r soulmates last nigit i really needed it,

jean doesnt understand you and hed never try to. he'd never demand an explanation for all your little quirks and strange habits. he just cherishes and adores every weird little thing about you that he doesnt understand, all the things he has the privilege of witnessing he reveres you even though he'll never truly understand you

and hes terrified of someone treating you like you're not special, like you're normal and not this perfect strange and wild girl meant to be observed and free

jean takes you and his dog out to the levee and puts you in his ball caps and follows behind you on your scavenging expeditions for little rocks and snail shells

you get sunburnt and jean has to rub aloe on your back and bandage up your foot because you stepped on a piece of glass :(

jean loves how pretty and small you are in comparison to him. youre like a frail little bird in the palm of his hand he's meant to take care of and nurture. he likes how he pick you up and bend you in half and hold you whenever he wants

whenever jean is driving and you see a hurt wild animal like a possum or a bunny you make him pull over and take it to the vet

jean carries you in the pool and he listens to you ramble on about how you had a dream last night where you were shipwrecked and got rescued by a mermaid that looks JUST like jean and hes just humming and listening and smiling trying not to doze off while you float w him because hes just so relaxed and grateful to have you <3

jean lets you do his skincare because hes so fascinated by your products that cover the bathroom sink (he accidentally eats your moisturizer somehow??) so you sit on his lap, put a headband on him to pull back his hair, and slather his face in cleanser but you keep getting distracted by kissing him that you dont wash it off

jean has to hold you down and clip your long jagged toenails because they keep scratching him in his sleep

when you try to dom him he thinks its the cutest thing ever. he says "yes ma'am" like a gentleman and gets on his knees to eat you out. he likes to do it against a wall so you're like sitting on his shoulders

"you've got me on my back, baby, now what re you gonna do about it?"

"oh, you need to cum? i think i can help you if you let me baby"

"thats it, thats it, keep ridin' it just like that. ride it like its yours"

jean helps you ride him the first few times and then you get fussy when he tries to grab your tits so you push his hands down and tell him no touching otherwise he can cum all by himself >:)

you lay jean on his back and make him jerk off while your teasing him with kisses and he get so frustrated, he knows stronger than you and all he wants to do is grab you and put you on your back and force you to take it but he knows if he does youll be mad at him :(

at the bar, jean gets hit on by girls all the time and hes trying not to be an asshole but he'd rather take off his own belt and choke himself with it than interacting with any other woman that isnt you <3 so he tells these women hes married and to SCRAM BEFORE HIS WIFE GETS HERE (youre at home rearranging your shell, bone, tea herb, and rock collection on the dresser)

you guys arent married yet but he refers to you as his wife when youre not around <3

#chat are yall w me on this #dahlia.valley #jean kirstein #jean kirschstein #jean kirschtein x reader #aot smut #jean kirschtien #jean kirschtein headcanons #jean kirschtein smut #snk x reader #aot x reader

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cambion-companion · 2 years

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I have a request if you’re still taking them :)

Something with reader who knows how to fight and spars Aemond a bit and ends getting injured somehow (perhaps sparring Aemond 👀) and doesn’t tell him about it and he doesn’t know till reader collapses or something

Hope you’re having a lovely day! I love your fics :)

Hi guys! This is a great idea; hope you like what I made! ((His face in this gif hurts my heart))

Word count: 1156

Masterlist here

Aemond x wife!reader | Injury

You let out a sharp curse, throwing your body to the side as your husband’s sword arced down at you. Adrenaline coursed through your veins as your feet skidded on the soft earth, barely keeping your balance as you dodged yet another blow.

“Seven hells, Aemond!” You half-shouted, backing away yet further as he advanced, his one violet eye calculating your defensive stance. “Why must you always insist on sparring with real weapons?”

“It.”

You blocked a blow to your right side.

“Builds.”

You ducked another aimed for your shoulder.

“Character.”

Aemond accentuated each word with a flourishing attack, driving you back until you made contact with the stone wall of the courtyard.

Your swords met, with a ringing of metal, as you intercepted him yet again, your weapons scraping against each other as you struggled. Grunting with effort, you raised a booted foot and kicked at Aemond’s midriff, pushing him away enough to get in a few attacks of your own, though each he deflected with ease.

“There won’t be character to build if one of us gets stabbed through the throat, not that it would be you of course.” You eased up on your offense, panting to catch your breath.

“No better way to prepare for the actual experience of combat, Y/N.” Aemond chided, twirling his sword expertly as he waited for you to recover a bit. “The harder we train, the easier to defeat an actual enemy.”

He rushed you then, catching you completely and literally off-guard. Blood raced through your veins, your body hot and sweaty from the exertion of fending off his rapid strikes. In desperation, you leapt toward him, casting yourself to the ground, rolling on your shoulder to come upright behind him, and taking a swing of your own at his unguarded back.

Your sword made contact, though you were sure to hit him with the flat of the blade.

“Very good!” Aemond lowered his sword, giving you a cursory look of approval before returning it to the weapons table. “You’re improving significantly.” He spoke with his back still turned to you, his thick silver hair messily falling down his back. “Perhaps now you see the wisdom in training with sharpened weapons.”

“Aemond…I-”

“We can move on to dual wielding next, as you were so eager to begin last week.” Your husband continued, not hearing your small voice, wiping the moisture off the metal blade and sheathing it in a leather scabbard. “Would you prefer a shorts word to begin with, perhaps?”

“Y/N?”

He turned to see why you had grown so silent, his eye widening in alarm as he took in your blanched face.

“Aemond. I don’t feel so great.” You removed your hand from where it had been pressing against your thigh, your palm coated in your own red blood. The sight sent your vision spinning, as you swayed alarmingly on the spot.

You registered the crunch of gravel as Aemond ran to your side, scooping you into his arms as your knees gave way.

As he hurried up the stone steps to the Keep, pain began blossoming in your leg as the numbness from all the exercise began wearing off. You began groaning softly as it mounted, Aemond soothing you as best he could while hastening to the maester’s quarters.

You looked down to access the damage, seeing the torn fabric of your tunic pants, the thick blood seeping across the fabric, dripping onto the stone floor. That’s when you fell limp, you head lolling back, as you fainted, heedless of Aemond calling your name.

—

You were aware of soft voices, the feel of warm blankets cocooning you, a dull ache in your right thigh. Your eyes felt heavy, your throat parched.

“She should be right as rain in no time, my prince, there is no cause for worry I assure you.” You heard the voice of an elderly man speaking near where you lay upon soft cushions. “It was a superficial scratch, she’s lost some blood, yes, but I imagine the sight of the wound is what truly caused her to lose consciousness.”

“When will she wake?” This time, it was Aemond’s voice, sounding strained with worry. Something you’d never heard before.

You made an effort to speak, a garble of pain escaping your lips as you shifted, opening your eyes. Aemond crossed to kneel by your side, his fingers intertwining with yours laying upon your belly.

“Y/N, how are you feeling?” His eye roved your features, stress evident upon his angular face.

“Thirsty.” You rasped out, grateful as the old maester handed you a wooden cup full of spring water.

Aemond helped you sit up as you gulped it down, feeling instantly much better.

“Water, food and rest will be the quickest way to recover.” The maester refilled your cup. “The bandages will need to be changed twice a day; I’ll give you the healing salve in just a moment.”

You looked up at the wizened man gratefully. “Thank you.”

“Of course, my dear.” He shuffled to a wooden table, corking a small glass bottle. “If I might suggest.” Turning to the prince, he placed the ointment in Aemond’s hand. “Training with blunted weapons from now on, your highness.”

Aemond nodded briefly, thanking the maester before escorting him out of the room. He was at your side again in two long strides, bending to places a fervent kiss to your temple. “I was foolish, Y/N, and you paid the price.” He pressed his forehead to yours, his eye fluttering closed, brow furrowed. “I cannot stand the thought of you in pain because of me, tell me how I can help you.”

You closed your own eyes, the salve that had previously been applied taking away the edge of the pain in your leg. “Perhaps a nice foot rub would be a good start to your penance, my husband.”

“Hmm.” Aemond pulled back to read your expression, a tentative smile tugging at his lips. “That seems a small price for me to pay. Perhaps you can come up with more ideas in the meantime.”

He pulled your stockings off, rubbing circles into your aching feet, his hands feeling warm on your chilly skin. “You can bring me my meals, read to me…” You smiled slyly over at him. “Kiss me occasionally.”

He shook his silver head fondly, smiling with you. “That all goes without saying, Y/N.”

“Telling me how sorry you are and that I am always right wouldn’t go amiss either.” You hummed a contented sound, snuggling deeper into your blankets as Aemond began massaging up your calves.

He placed a kiss to your knee. “I’ll do all that and more, my love. Again, I am truly sorry for being so reckless with the one person in this world I couldn’t bear to lose.”

The sadness in his voice had you sitting up, despite his protestations to remain reclined. You leant forward, cupping his chin in your hand. “Oh Aemond.” You ran your thumb across his full bottom lip. “I’m not going anywhere I promise you. You’re stuck with me for a while yet, my dragon.”

#aemond angst #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x y/n #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond x you #aemond fanfic #aemond targaryen x you #prince aemond x reader #pro aemond targaryen #prince aemond targaryen #prince aemond x you #aemond imagine #aemond oneshot #aemond targaryen #aemond fluff #aemond fanfiction #aemond x oc

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pro-gamer-moves · 8 months

Text

Couldn’t get this idea out of my head, so here’s the Chain waking up and putting on makeup.

Time was woken, as usual, by the sounds of chaos.

“Give it back!”

“I just want to borrow it! Use one of your other four shades!”

“No, I need all of them! Give me back my eyeliner!”

Ooh. The “e” word. That was never good.

Time reluctantly sat up, rubbing his eyes. “What’s the problem, boys?”

Four ran over to him while pointing angrily at Wind, who was standing on top of a stump at the edge of camp. “Wind took my blue eyeliner and he won’t give it back!”

Wind stomped his foot. “I’m going to give it back, I just need to use it really quick!”

“No, you can’t! If you use just the blue it will run out faster than the others and I won’t be able to replace them all at the same time!”

“That’s a stupid reason!”

Time held up his hand before the argument could continue. “Calm down guys. Wind, give Four his eyeliner back, you can use mine.”

Wind pouted and marched over, reluctantly handing the eyeliner back to Four. “Yours won’t match my tunic though. If I wanted boring black I would have used my own.”

Time raised his eyebrow and reached into his makeup bag. “Who says I only have black?”

Multiple heads turned. Warriors spoke up from where he and Legend were hunched over Legend’s Mirror Shield. “But you only ever wear black!”

Time chuckled. “I only ever wear black now. The things I put on my face in my younger days… Besides, I have enough color as it is with these markings.”

He handed Wind the blue eyeliner he had bought in Zora’s Domain and started applying his own foundation. He was running a little low on the good stuff with the moisturizer, he would have to start using his backup bottle soon.

Wild burst out of the bushes, lips purple and parts of his hair dyed to match. “Guys! I found these great berries! Don’t eat them or you’ll throw up, but they stain really nicely!” He paused and looked down. “Aww, Hyrule… Green eyeshadow again? Mix it up a bit!”

Hyrule shrugged. “I stick to what I know. Pass me the medium brush, would ya?”

Wild passed him the brush and ran over to bug Twilight, who was quietly sharing a mirror with Sky as they both did their eyes. Time smiled. It was mornings like these that really made him glad for whatever twists of fate had gathered them.

He glanced around to make sure nobody was watching, then pulled out a tin of extra-firm chuchu jelly he had traded the Troupe Leader’s Mask for after asking the Happy Mask Salesman how he got his hair so shiny. He covertly used his fingers to comb it through his bangs before anyone could notice. How he got his bangs to stick up so much was a matter of several bets among the other Links, more so than his age. If the secret got out he would never see his prized hair gel again.

Finally, he used a couple pencils to trace around the Fierce Deity markings- he used to try to hide them, until he realized the potential in artistic asymmetry. Look complete, he gathered his equipment and stood up.

“Everyone ready to go?”

“No!” Came the call from Legend. “Warriors still has to curl his lashes.”

“Shut up! If yours were this long you would curl them too!”

“Hey, I’m not judging man. Everybody is jealous of your ridiculous lashes.”

Eventually everyone was as beautiful as they wanted to be, and the Chain set off down the road. Dink had a very hard time resisting the urge to ask for their skincare routine, but eventually his burning hatred for anything hero related won out and they fought to the death again.

#linked universe #lu time #lu four #lu wind #lu wild #lu hyrule #lu warriors #lu legend #lu twilight #lu sky #makeup

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molliiewoodtodd · 9 months

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TIC TAC TOE!!!

#male socks #smelly socks #dirty socks #white socks #gay socks #sweaty socks #sock shoe men #one shoe guy #artists on tumblr #socksandfeet #male toes #vans socks #male foot domination #male foot smelling #sweaty guy feet #cheesy male foot sweat #guy foot moisture #window moisture

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aclowntiny · 10 months

Text

✧･ﾟ: *✧Spa Days With Seventeen!✧*:･ﾟ✧

I did this for Ateez quite some time ago, but after a day of working outside in 43 C/110 F weather for 8 hours spa hours have returned to my head 😅 anyhoo Warnings: just 🤏🏻 suggestive in a couple places

S.Coups

♡ All Seungcheol can do is giggle as you ‘aggressively’ insist on taking care of him, resembling a miffed kitten in his mind more than the lion you thought you were as you shuffled him off to change into cozy pajamas for the day.

♡ Enjoy basically wrestling with him over who gets to pamper who, because nearly as hard as you tell him he needs to relax he wants to be the one to fetch all your relaxation supplies for you and peel your sheet mask for you as you sit against his chest.

♡ You guys get ✨jacuzzi access✨ for the occasion and Seungcheol literally physically carries you into the water because he can and very much wants to. Pretends to drop you at first, smiles at the way you hold his neck tighter and squeal, then lowers you in gently.

♡ A purchase you made for the occasion was floating light-up speakers you were so excited to burst out, coordinating the lights to bob in cool colors to the calm beat of the playlist you chose to lay back together to.

♡ You go back to miffed kitten mode when Seungcheol pulls you into him to rub your back, insisting that's your job and only letting him when he says you can reciprocate, smiling at you with loving eyes and shaking his head as you practically dart behind and in front of each other like Looney Tunes at your request to alternate, feeling like he'd done plenty over your time together to make you feel like royalty, now it was your turn.

Jeonghan

♡ In all honesty, Jeonghan was a bit concerned when you suddenly approached him with an idea for the so-called best date, wondering what was up your sleeve, but the moment you said the words spa day at home it was like a spell came over him, pulling him all in on the introvert dream day. “Can we get these too?” “What are those, headbands? Don’t you think we have enou-” “But (y/n), they’re so cute and we can use them when we do the face masks!” “Oh, alright.”

♡ So there you are, rolling back your hair or simply accessorizing with fluffy headbands- Jeonghan’s being pink with bunny ears on it and yours being black with equally plush kitty ears- as you stick sheet masks on each other. His of course has a bunny print and yours matches your headband too!

♡ Another relaxation method you wanted to try is meditation, so you two sit, legs crossed, adjacent to each other and practice some deep breaths beneath lavender-scented air.

♡ Your significant other being Yoon Jeonghan, though, it’s not long before you feel a poke at your side, barely suppressing a giggle and trying to ignore it. Then another, and another, and you fold completely or rather unfold, collapsing from your perfect posture and falling onto his side, looking up into his smiling face.

♡ Your day ends in a tangle of pajama-clad limbs, Jeonghan holding you close and running his fingers through your hair and up your loose, fluffy sleeves to ghost along your arm as the both of you lull to sleep.

Joshua

♡ It's his idea. He wants to pamper you and thinks it seems really romantic ever since he saw another couple have one and wants to recreate it for you, but even better if he can.

♡ He starts by giving you a foot rub with this really high-end moisturizer they recommended in the video. Somehow he seems to know the exact amount of pressure you like without you even asking him to apply it!

♡ "I got you flowers today, just, you know, not like usual," Joshua jokes as he produces a glass jar with cute lace around its neck. Knowing you like to exfoliate, he had a scrub made with your favorite flowers in it for you to use, too!

♡ The pièce de résistance? Joshua opening the doors to reveal he'd prepared the classic candlelit bath, rose petals drifting lazily across the surface and a whole host of fine things to add to the otherwise-undisturbed water at your discretion. "Do you like it?" The way you fly into his arms hastily pulling his head down answers his question well enough, and you feel him smile against your lips.

♡ "What did I do to deserve this, hm?" You hum as you glance up with fluttering eyes from your legs resting atop his under the water to meet Joshua's across the tub. "All you had to do," Joshua replies, eyes radiant in the face of yours, "was be you."

Jun

♡ Two words: matching pajamas. That’s step one of spa day, just getting all changed into the coziest cutest couple set Jun could find for you two.

♡ "Let's try this massage gun I got that looks like a piece of exercise equipment!" Leave it to Wen Junhui to find the oddest yet most practical contribution he could make, you thought as he held up the strangely triangular device. Before you could protest that it was overkill, he held it up to you and pressed the button really quickly, giving you a little buzz that had you laughing, shaking your head as you accepted it from him.

♡ The thing was powerful, but you had to give it to him: it felt good. Yours and Jun's muscles were practically jelly by the time you slowly ooze up from the couch to brew a pot of chamomile for your afternoon tea, for which Jun had also bought your favorite biscuits. The man never failed to bring a smile to your face.

♡ This time standing up was easier, not least of all because of the large, secure hands that wrapped around yours, practically sending you leaping out of your chair and into Jun's arms as he slow danced you across the hard floors in your animal slippers. At least it didn't hurt if you stepped on his feet!

♡ Your day of self-care ends in the shower, where you get the full Wen Junhui hair was experience aka the 'if I get shampoo in your eye, hit me'. It never runs even close, though, to either of you as you massage each other's scalps, smiling contentedly as warm water cascaded over you both, encapsulating you in more than one steamy embrace.

Hoshi

♡ Hears ‘spa day’ and thinks only of two things: either laying around in robes with cucumbers over your eyes or you guys giving each other massages.

♡ Wants to do both frankly. Takes your idea as an excuse to buy cute robes for you both and also to play around with you, getting DIY kits to mix your own face masks and deciding to try a mixture of both on because it can’t be bad for him, right? “I’ll just by cleansed and moisturized this way!” He exclaims with a grin as he smears the odd green and pink swirled mixture on his eager face.

♡ Of course he has to remark that the odd mixture gives his face the stripes he needs as he bought himself an orange tiger patterned robe, completely uncaring of the clash between the colors on his cheeks and the rest of him.

♡ It’s a massive 180 from him giggling over tiger stripes, horanghae-ing, and eating the cucumbers off his eyes when he’s suddenly sliding your robe off your shoulders, each brush and motion deliberate.

♡ The robes and masks are fun and all, but Soonyoung can’t let that massage oil go to waste. He always starts either a little too tough or a little too gentle, always feeling a bit cautious or a tad too excited, but your guiding words have him turning you to putty in his hands and feeling all the more ready to return the favor.

Wonwoo

♡ So surprised when you suggest having a spa day, he just looks at you with shining eyes and a smile of endearment. “You want to have a spa day?” He repeats back to you, thinking you’re the cutest thing ever.

♡ You end up researching how to make things together, going to the market the day before to seek supplies. “So this is really going on our faces?” Wonwoo chuckles as you mash avocados in a bowl. “Yep,” you joke back, “and the baking soda and sugar aren’t for baking, either, remember?” “Well, I guess that makes sense. Sugar would exfoliate and avocados are rich in oil. As long as it’s good oil! I’m more surprised about the vinegar honestly.” Oh, how you loved having a smart boyfriend.

♡ Removing his glasses, he can’t help but smile as you gingerly dip your hand into the avocado-honey-apple cider vinegar mixture you'd insisted on adding lemon juice to "so it doesn't smell so bad for you", holding his head still by the chin with the clean hand before beginning to smear. Your fingers tightened just so beneath him as he jumped from the cold, nose crinkling slightly at the sensation, and you both giggled. Soon Wonwoo had your face in his hand as you took your turn to turn green, making Kermit jokes all the way.

♡ You’re most interested to see how the bath bomb you guys made turns out, unmolding it into your hand with great focus and nudging Wonwoo with your leg beneath the bathwater when it comes out nearly perfect. A little powder drifts into the water, making little purple swirls between you before you drop in the whole thing, accidentally making a splash that has Wonwoo teasing you for being irresponsible with your creation.

♡ In response, you push the fizzing heart shape his way and he sends it back toward you, creating an impromptu little ball game between you two as you sent the floral-scented bomb zipping along the water’s surface. Finally it dissolves, giving you less reason to slosh violet-tinted water out of your tub and more reason to lean forward, hands on the smooth surface, face almost touching Wonwoo’s. “Having fun?” “M-hm,” he hums in response, hand instinctively reaching up to rub your back. “Good,” you reply, closing the gap between you two as you teased, “I liked our little chemistry experiments almost as much as this chemistry.” That earned you a light swat, but also more kisses.

Woozi

♡ “This seems a bit silly now, doesn’t it (y/n)?” This in question being one of those little foot spas you picked up at the store and insisted on starting your day of relaxation with. “The warm water is supposed to feel good,” you reply with your best puppy dog eyes, “is it not working?” The moment you give Jihoon that look, he caves, shaking his head as his own expression falls into a smile and starts rolling up the legs of his pants.

♡ Honestly it does feel good and he has to admit it as you sit there each in your own bubbling soak, you scooting closer and closer until he notices and teases you about it, casually slinging an arm around your shoulders as he laughs.

♡ Once you’re all dried off from the little spas, you reach into your bag of tricks supplies, producing a little bottle. “What’s that?” Jihoon asks. “Massage oil,” you reply, motioning to the couch, “come lay down.” He obliges, laying flat on his stomach along the cushions as you coat your hands, but you can't help raising a brow at him when he turns to look at you, causing him to do a double take. "What?" "Take your shirt off," you tell him. If you were any closer, surely you would see his cheeks flushing. "Why?" You keep your eyebrow raised, lifting also your now-glistening hands. "I'm not about to ruin that nice shirt with this stuff."

♡ Shy as he seemed, Jihoon melts under your touch, relaxing the moment your palms meet his skin, brushing lightly over it with the cooling oil you’d chosen. Pride washes over you as you knead out several knots he surely gave himself from sitting in the wrong posture, but today isn’t the day to nag him over it, it’s all about relaxation.

♡ Jihoon insists on repaying your favors even if you wanted to give him the luxury day, and would you really deny a massage from him? Instead of the cooling oil, though, you choose your favorite fragrance and insist on sitting close to him, your back almost to his chest as he holds you gently between his folded legs. Some tension leaves your body, too, and you can tell by the smile you see on Jihoon’s face that venture peeking at that the day has been a success, let alone the time together that is yet to come.

♡ The spa day shopping is this 🤏🏻 close to being his favorite part- surely you were already expecting a full basket? He actually picks out really cute stuff- you'll discover he has great taste in candles, choosing the perfect soft scents to relax to.

♡ Draws you a bath, also puts a rubber duck in it. Squeezing it is very relaxing, thank you! It’s enough to fill your heart just seeing Seokmin smiling in anticipation as he pours in a bunch of the bubble bath you picked out, stirring up the water until it’s covered with a fluffy film.

♡ Puts said fluffy film on his head to make you laugh. “What do you think, does this style suit me?” He asks, grinning and patting his new ‘hairstyle’ as you just sit in front of him bursting into giggles.

♡ Seokmin takes such good care of you in the tub, making sure if you sit in the half with the faucet that you never hit it even if he has to tug you away from it and devotedly taking the time to wash your hair with all the products you need and one special scented oil you found just for the occasion.

♡ He gently towel dries your hair off too and once you are both dried and be-robed it’s time for bed! Well, getting into bed anyway. Lighting all the little blue candles with their luxurious natural scents you guys had purchased for the occasion, Seokmin slides into the covers with you, pulling you into his arms as he puts on your favorite movie. There was no other option, sorry. Until, that is, you go back and forth about it and it devolves into a tickle fight, Seokmin conceding to watching his favorite next time when you win.

Mingyu

♡ Taking a bunch of silly photos of you two with pink mud masks on wasn't what you were initially expecting from the day, but in the end you feel gratitude for Mingyu's innocent spirit as you look back on the adorable shoot.

♡ He also insists on feeding you your choice of snack for the day because your mask is set and you can't do it yourself, no siree. You have to accept it by hand, no take backs.

♡ Wipes off said mud mask so gently you barely feel it…but when the washcloth is discarded, you do feel the way Mingyu’s thumb affectionately, feather-lightly caresses your cheek as he stares into those lovely eyes of yours he loves so much.

♡ And there you end up, cheeks sticking together just a little from the residue as your lips meet again and again, hands joined first in at your laps, then sliding up to wrap around each other.

♡ As you finally rise to your feet, Mingyu’s hands returning to yours to help lift you up, he suggests drawing you guys a bath with an intensity in his eyes you can’t deny, and you are glad to oblige when you see the way he’s decked the room all out with candles, a huge, proud, eager smile on his face.

The8

♡ Spa day with him almost turns into a full-blown resort day, not because Minghao insists on being extra but because you get a little salon experience when he decides to paint your nails- but only if you paint his, too.

♡ The first thing you do is just get yourselves relaxed, you two wearing comfortable clothes, lighting some incense, and sharing cups of Minghao’s favorite relaxing tea blend that he knows just how many times to steep.

♡ Next up is getting ready for the salon experience! You two take turns filing each other’s nails to get ready. Minghao’s grip on your hand is so soft even as he runs the gritty file along your nails, and if you aren’t fond of the feeling he keeps you distracted looking at him and listening to what he tells you, probably some new Chinese phrases if you haven’t heard them already.

♡ The hand masks feel like wet gloves, leaving the two of you laughing at the odd feeling. Venturing a high-five is a must, and the wet slap sound has you giggling more and crinkling your nose as you peel the masks off.

♡ When your moisturizer is all rubbed in, you two pick each other’s nail polish color and make it a surprise, once again keeping your eyes on each other as you sit hand in hand. For Minghao, you chose a dark, almost maroon, shade of purple, and for you he chose forest green. Your accent nail was some gold glitter on your ring fingers, which Minghao jokes is what bling you’ll get on your left side…for now 👀

Seungkwan

♡ So serious about it all!!! It starts with an elaborate skincare routine that Seungkwan probably would have made you do anyway and evolves into him showing you every restorative stretch he knows how to do so you're loosened up for your massage.

♡ “Stay still!” He whines as you roll your shoulders beneath his hands, but the only punishment you receive from Seungkwan is his hands lightly tapping against your shoulder as he shakes his head, leaning in to press a kiss to your cheek. “What are we going to do with you?”

♡ You quickly begin taking advantage of that, moving a little bit more so he’s forced to hold you tighter, practically nuzzling into you as he weakly chastises you, a small smile on his face when he sees you leaning in expectantly. “All right, you’re allowed to move if that’s what you want,” he gives in, grinning.

♡ Still remains stock still when you return the favor, practically entering a liquid state beneath your touch, his only movement waves that follow the flow of your hands. The only sounds he makes are sighs of contentment and the occasional request of a shift in pressure.

♡ Sings you your favorite lullabies and love songs alike as if he were your little radio when you guys sink into the tub at the end of the night. Well, almost the end that is. You still have the nighttime skincare routine and mandatory cuddles awaiting you!

Vernon

♡ Your spa day is sort of impromptu, opening up your new skin care purchase turning into a whole day off spent in self care. "Does that thing really work?" Vernon had asked you, pointing to the shining gua sha in your hand with raised eyebrows. "Only one way to find out!" You shrugged with a grin, holding it up higher, and well, curiosity got the better of him.

♡ He wanted to try the steamer you got for your face too. "This opens up your pores, right?" You nodded as you plugged it in, head turned back to look upon him brightly. "Look at you being all smart! All right, here we go!" You turn it on, steam curling out towards your heads where they lightly pressed together. Vernon squeezed his eyes shut immediately and you couldn't help but laugh, even into the steam, at the face he made.

♡ You practically pull Vernon by the hand into the kitchen to make ‘fancy snacks’, which just ends up being wee little finger sandwiches. There are normal ones like microcosm peanut butter and jellies or cucumber sandwiches, then there are a few weird ones because hey, what else was to be done with that leftover sausage?

♡ Eating outside in the sun is much more relaxing, so you take your finger sandwiches in yours and Vernon’s version of al fresco, out in the yard where you trail off to pick flowers and he thinks you’re so beautiful he can’t resist a few snapshots of you. Even if you’re embarrassed about not having any makeup on, Vernon is completely caught up in the ethereal vision of you with your robe falling off your shoulders caught in a sunbeam, a few flowers in hand. Oops, might become his wallpaper, sorry 🤷🏻‍♀️

♡ Back inside, you press a few flowers in the pages of a book, pulling another off the shelf to read from as you soak all the dirt and wear off your feet in a pair of tiny spas, your eyes darting across the page and his following along, brightening as yours widen.

Dino

♡ “Can we do the thing with the hot rocks?” “Why would you pick the most dangerous spa activity you could?” “I dunno,” Chan chuckles in response, “it just seems cool!”

♡ Cue a quick google search on if doing that is even possible at home. Apparently the rocks are only heated to the equivalent of about 38-55 degrees Celsius (100-130 degrees Fahrenheit), AKA oven temperature, so that’s how you found yourself and Chan peeking into an oven full of volcanic stones that were probably intended to go in a garden.

♡ It’s worth it, though, to watch the focus on Chan’s face as he carefully presses the stones between his hands, checking the temperature and tempering the heat ever so slightly before resting them on your bare back. The warmth is startling at first, sending a shudder down your newly-decorated spine, but soon you’re melting beneath its sensation, eyes fluttering shut at the combined feeling of the stones and Chan’s hands over you.

♡ You do the same for him, pressing the stone and giving a satisfied little nod at the adequate temperance. “You look like a professional,” Chan comments, head propped up on his fist from where he lays, chest bare. You can’t help but flush at the sight, bidding him lay down so you can work all the knots and kinks out.

♡ Once massaged, you two stretch, having a little competition to see who can do the funniest pose. You win by a longshot, stealing and modifying that one weird stretch of Seungkwan’s and sending Chan into stitches. When you’re done laughing, he moves over to the speaker you had set up for relaxing music and turns it to something more romantic, pulling you into his chest and swaying lightly back and forth as he thanks you for a day that was both relaxing and fun.

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tokioangelic · 7 months

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✧.* Skincare Georg Listing x Reader

(as usual repost from my wattpad, just a cute little fluffy mini fic thingy whatever)

Georg grunted in disapproval as you bundled his hair into a messy bun on the top of his head, making him look a lot like a pineapple. You leaned back to admire your work, laughing in amusement at how funny your boyfriend looked. Georg rolled his eyes playfully, lifting you up onto the Bathroom counter so you could sit on it. He stood between your legs, waiting patiently as you laid out all the skincare products on the counter. (Guys, I don't really do any skin care other than the little scrub exfoliation thingy, Face wash, Cleanser and moisturizer, so this little skincare thing is going to be basic.) "Okay, so first you need to wash your face" You instructed Georg, who stepped away from you for a moment to rinse his face. He held his hand out obediently, letting you squeeze a little Face wash onto his palm.

Georg followed your instructions, washing his face thoroughly but gently. He stepped between your legs, his arms snaking around your waist as you carefully patted his face dry, Georg scrunching his face as you teasingly tapped his nose with your finger, laughing at his reaction. You reached for the face mask on the counter, Georg leaning forward to kiss your cheek. You turned back to face him, Georg peppering your face with kisses as his hands reached up to cup your cheek. "Georg, it's time for the face mask" You said between giggles, Georg not seeming to care about Face Mask time as he peppered your face with soft kisses. "I want to kiss you" He insisted, his lips sinking onto yours.

"I Promise I'll let you kiss me as much as you want after the Face mask" You promised, Georg seeming to like that idea. He placed one final kiss to your lips before pulling away, letting you screw open the little Pot of the Fruity scented face mask. You leaned closer to him, focusing on applying the Mask to his skin, lathering it on generously and making sure not to get it in his eyes or mouth. Meanwhile, Your boyfriend admired you, only able to think about the Promise you had made to let him Kiss you to his heart's content. he shuffled from foot to foot impatiently, wanting to finish the little Spa session so that he could kiss and cuddle with you. "Stay still Georg!" You giggled, spreading the mask across his skin.

"It feels nice and cold," He commented, standing still as you added the finishing touches to the mask. "All done! now you have to leave it on for ten minutes before you wash it off" You informed him, leaning over the sink as you washed your hands clean, putting away the little Jar of fruity face mask. Georg pouted, wanting the face mask to be off straightaway so that he could kiss you. You laughed at his childish expression, splashing him with some of the cold water from the running tap, the water spraying on his shirt that hugged his muscular torso. His jaw dropped in mock offense, his hands on his hips. You laughed, barely having the time to turn off the tap before Georg lunged forward, attacking you with tickles as you squealed.

You squirmed on the Counter top, squealing with laughter as Georg tickled you all over, your shared laughter echoing around the bathroom. "Georg stop, stop it!" You choked out between giggles, trying to wiggle away from him as he laughed, pulling you into a hug as you giggled breathlessly against his chest, trying to compose yourself. You sneakily slipped his phone out of his jeans pocket, shuffling away from him and lifting the phone to his face, snapping ten photos of him with his face mask on, laughing as you sent it to the Band's group chat.

"The Guys are going to make fun of me Schatzi" Georg complained, snatching the phone from your hands as you laughed, watching as Georg scrolled through the photos, Messages from The Guys already flooding in. "I think you look adorable" You grinned at Georg, who rolled his eyes, clearly not agreeing with your statement. Georg snaked his hands around your waist, pulling you against him. "Can I please take it off now? I want to kiss you" Georg whined, trying to give you puppy eyes as he batted his eyelashes, the expression making you crack up laughing. You nodded, still shaking with laughter.

Georg washed off the Face Mask in double quick time, hurriedly wiping his face dry in his eagerness to get back to you and kiss you. "One last thing," You added, holding up your Moisturizer. "Don't worry, you can kiss me straightaway after putting it on"

Georg smiled softly as you massaged the Moisturizer into his skin, visibly enjoying it. "It feels so nice," He commented, his fingers reaching up to brush against his cheek, feeling how soft and smooth his skin was. "My face is so soft!" he exclaimed. You grinned, setting the skincare products aside and cupping his face with both your hands, pecking his lips. "See? Now you've got lovely skin- and you can kiss me as much as you want"

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aplaceforyourhearttorest · 3 months

Text

Counterproductive Tendencies ✩ James Hetfield

⭒ introductory, part two, part three, part four ⭒ (wordcount: 7.9k)

Part one of multiple: Bottle Caps and Rugburn (16+)

Mentions/Warnings: drug use, sexual suggestion

Ephemeral clouds temporarily obscure your already altered line of vision as you hesitantly trudge forward and off your shared front porch, the huff of uneasiness you let out nearly inaudible as your roommates continuously complain from behind you. You shakily exhale as the bottom of your right, overworn and half shoved on tennis shoe snags on a rough side of uneven pavement, and you attempt to unsteadily stabilize yourself with a blind hand in front of you. Relief floods through you as you feel your palm slide against and make contact with the large tree you remember to be in front of your newly assigned home and dormitory, your fingers bending inward to grip onto its damp curvature as you testily circle your ankle back and forth.

"Don't tell me you've already injured yourself, before you could go and tell our neighbors off for keeping us up until two in the morning." A voice from the still partially warm entrance of the front door teasingly drawls, causing your already squinting eyes to fall shut with barely concealed annoyance and exhaustion.

"Kept you five up, actually. I happened to have already been sleeping just fine," you respond dryly, kicking your foot back down and skidding it up to where your other one balances your weight, once you're sure it won't tense or strain. The thick material of your sock makes a soft, padded sound once it makes rough contact with the sole of your shoe, and you twist your upper half to peer back at the partially huddled group of women surrounding the highest step. "Why am I the one to go and talk to these guys, anyway? I've never even met them."

"You just answered your own question," another one rasps out, her hands gripping onto a thick blanket covering her broad and caving in shoulders, the tip of her nose bright red from the invasive and domineering wind. "They've never met you, which means that they'll give you even less shit than they usually give us. Fresh meat and all. Even assholes like them won't slam a door in your face the first time."

The eldest of the group sends you a small and almost genuine smile, before leaning forward on the side railing to raise a hand and gesture for you to keep moving forward and across the street. "They aren't as bad as they sound. They offered us beer once."

"Yeah, and then egged our house-" "Well, that was because one of you guys called the police, and they showed up right after we knocked on their door to talk to them about the noise-" "I told you we should've just stayed home that night. Now they know we're snitches. We told on them; we're fucking narcs."

You wince as a small pulse of pain travels to each one of your temples and down to the middle of your forehead, the one bright light on the side of the porch glaring its way into your peripheral vision as you wearily look up at the girls. You slowly blink to gather moisture for your sore and dry eyes and breathe out a quiet sound of disbelief as they continue to mindlessly talk over each other, before turning yourself back around to face the tree and throwing a halfhearted wave behind your goosebump-ridden back.

You ignore the increased volume in their voices as you do so and carefully make your way over and down the uneven pavement and curb, your face and bare lower legs numbing as the frosty air envelopes itself over your underdressed form.

You glance around and quickly begin to make your way over to a much larger and nicer house once you discover it to be the source of the loud music and barreling cheers, beer caps audibly crunching underneath your fast paced feet as soon as you make your first few steps onto the stranger's property. You make yourself walk impossibly faster to the half-shut front door, refusing to allow your anxiety to stop you from helping your roommates hopefully get some sleep and for them to finally shut up.

Before you can even reach forward to push the door open wider and take a step inside, it comes whipping open and loudly collides with the wall behind it, causing you to jump in fright and lean back as a man around your age peers down at you with unhidden interest, his eyes comically wide and concerningly bloodshot.

"If anyone asks you about that, you'll tell them it wasn't me, right? Dickheads already had me pay out of pocket for the last time someone cannonballed through our glass table, and it wasn't even me! It was some blonde chick who chugged too much during a keg stand and couldn't handle her lager."

You send him a confused thumbs up, his accent too thick and slurred for you to be able to discern the words tumbling out of his mouth. You can't help but cheer up as he sends you a wide and overenthusiastic grin at your agreeance, and a cold, already opened beer can is being pressed into your already tingling palms before you can even decline.

"For not being a dick about the damage I'm doing to my own property." He explains, his eyebrows raising as your facial expression morphs into animated relief.

"This is your place? Thank God, I thought I'd be looking around all night until I found you," you speedily breathe out, the man now leaning against the doorway and looking at you in drunken shock, as if he wasn't speaking even faster than you seconds before. "My roommates woke me up and pressured me to come over and ask you to turn the music down."

The man's expression quickly drops and almost turns mean, seemingly freezing midway into a grimace as he takes in your uncomfortable posture and tense shoulders. "You were put up to this?" He asks you skeptically, reaching out to take back the beer once he sees you raise your hands up to your mouth to blow hot air on your already windblown, red streaked knuckles and palms.

"I can sleep like the dead. My roommates, not so much," you admit, some of your anxiousness melting away as you watch his face crumple with understanding. "Said I'm fresh meat and you wouldn't be as rude to me as you usually are to them, at least on my first trip over here."

"So, they had you come over to a stranger's house, during a large party at two thirty in the morning, to confront your neighbors, who you were told were hostile and unwelcoming? On your probably, very first week of living there?" At your nod, the man shakes his head in disbelief, before studying you with an inquisitive look and nodding his head in the direction of the ongoing party behind himself.

"Come on in. I'll get you something warmer to wear, and I'll get my even less than shitty roommates to introduce themselves to you," he sends you a cheeky look and makes sure you're following him before moving forward and even further inside. "We won't give you shit this time, only if you didn't call the cops before coming over here first."

A loud bout of drunken laughter petals itself out of the man guiding you inside, and you take in a deep breath, before walking toward and into the large mass of strangers and their inebriated shouts and movements.

"Fuck it." You murmur to yourself, only looking back to see if your roommates were still waiting for you outside. A frown makes its way to your lips once you see that the side porch's light is now off, and the front door is now fully closed.

"Name's Lars, by the way," he nearly shouts at you as you two make it to a staircase, lightly gripping your elbow after you're nearly toppled over by rough and incessant, dance-powered shoves. "I've got a friend's room you can change in, don't worry." You nod despite your nerves and quickly match your footsteps with his as you two make your way up the stairs. You glance out a large set of windows in the hallway and allow your eyes to drink in the ever-growing amount of people dancing outside in the freezing cold air, their heads thrown back and laughter pouring out of them, careless of the wind and everything to all intents and purposes, trying to knock them off their feet. As you're handed an oversized white dress shirt, and a slightly larger than usual pair of jeans and left alone to change, you crouch down to sit on the carpeted floor and force yourself to suck in a much needed and trembling breath. You momentarily close your eyes, before sliding them back open and shoving your flimsy shirt over your head, your hair coming loose from its confines of an earlier and secure ponytail.

So much for a warm welcome and a new start.

⭒

A quiet curse pillows its way out of your pursed lips as you cup your ear and clumsily make your way onto your knees, your stray hairs tickling the sides of your face as you search for your missing earring and stud. Your socked feet nearly slide out from underneath you as you bring yourself down and use your elbows as leverage, closing one eye to look underneath the bed only a foot away from you.

"Oh, come on. You've got to be here somewhere." You whisper out hopelessly, a sound of defeat reverberating in your chest once you're unable to find it beneath the lifted mattress. You let out a groan and allow your arms to let up, the bottom of the dress shirt nearly covering you from the mid-thigh up, lifting as you flop on the floor and land on top of the discarded pair of ripped jeans. You lift your head to rest it on top of your clasped hands and freeze in place as your eyes make contact with bright blue eyes, already looking down at you.

Wavy, dirty blonde hair cascades and rests against beautifully scarred and dimpled skin, accompanied with red and plush lips, them already curved up in a bewildered yet amused grin. Black jeans accentuate long, muscled legs, and a band tee is stretched out against a toned and taut torso. A jean jacket is splayed across sculpted and fully formed biceps, and you have to force yourself to not let out a sound of humiliation as the stranger takes their time drinking in your form.

You can't stop your body from jolting as the man speaks out in the heady air, and your eyes narrow as he chortles out a gentle and mirthful sounding laugh. You push yourself up into a sitting position, your spread legs instinctively curling up underneath you and ankles tightly linking together as you intentionally avert your wide eyes and stare down at the embroidered carpet instead.

"As much as I truly don't mind the view, why exactly are you wearing my only dress shirt, and why are you sprawled out in my room? On the floor, specifically?" You try not to seem affected by the smooth and comforting cadence of his tone, willing yourself to swallow thickly and clear your voice before answering him.

"I didn't want to invade your privacy by getting into your bed without your permission," You blurt out, immediately regretting your choice of words as you take them in yourself. Before the man standing in the doorway can ask you any more questions, you rush to continue. "Lars brought me up here, told me to dress more warmly. This was the first thing I saw when I walked into your closet. I really didn't mean to intrude."

The blue-eyed man's expression insurmountably softens once he notices how out of place and hesitant and nervous you look, going as far to take a step further back from entering his own room to give you more space. He goes to open his mouth to reassure you, before momentarily freezing in place. "Wait, you're here with Lars?" He asks you, his jaw almost slack with shock.

You shake your head adamantly, for some reason having a strong urge to reassure the stranger that you came here on your own and with no one else. "I hate to be the one to tell you, sweetheart, but you could do a lot better. Gremlin can't even admit to breaking his own shit, imagine how he'd treat you," you can't help but catch onto the softness in his tone as he teasingly speaks about his friend, his adoration apparent even as he playfully speaks ill of him. "How about we get some pants on you, and we can sneak you out of here before he realizes you're gone?"

His smile is contagious, and you can't help but temporarily mirror his expression, the frown only coming back to your face once you fully take in your predicament. The man sees your face fall, and he decidedly enters the room and slowly makes his way over to you, sitting down next to you but leaves enough distance for you to still feel comfortable and in your own space.

"What's going on in there, doll?" He asks you and points to your head, his tone surprisingly gentle and in contrast of his clothing, which is emanating the smell of cheap whiskey and half rubbed off cologne. You watch as his hands rise and come to reach out and comfort you, only to stop midway and land on the carpet in between the two of you instead, the rings on his fingers catching light and creating artificial rays up to the top of his high ceiling.

"I don't think I can go back to my place tonight, not without waking up my dormmates and pissing them off even further. The only reason I came over here was to ask for you guys to keep it down, on their behalf," you pause as recognition and distaste culminates on his face, and you sigh and reiterate what you said to Lars earlier, once again. "I was already sleeping, but they woke me up to come over here. They said I was fresh meat, and that you wouldn't treat me as shitty as you've treated them."

An array of emotions temporarily shuffle themselves on the handsome man's face beside you, the emotion he soon settles on being incredulity. He makes sure to maintain eye contact with you before he goes to speak, his fingertips digging themselves into the fabric of the carpet to stop himself from reaching out for you again.

"The only reason we've ever given them shit; was because of the way they came off towards us first. The first time they came over, it was two years ago, and we were celebrating an album release. There was still natural light outside, and it was in the middle of the summer. And they come barging in through our door and threatening to call the police, said their summer studies were more important than whatever we felt like we needed to celebrate for. Spoke to us like we were shit, and when we decided to play music for the first time again a few weeks later, they came back again, only this time with the police," an amused smile tugs his lips upward, and your chest flutters at the sight. "So maybe we smoked a little too much one night, crossed the street and pegged their shit with frozen eggs and blast music a little too loudly when we aren't supposed to. Doesn't mean we're any less than them or any better, also doesn't mean that gives them the right to come over to ours, threaten us, and then talk to us like we're shit."

"Treats other's how you wish to be treated." You murmur, your eyes zeroing in on his and watching as his pupils dilate as he looks back at you. He nods back as if he's in a trance, his fingertips stretching out to brush against yours. This time, you reach forward and slide your own through the delicate and soft fabric, your first knuckles colliding with his. Yours still red, and his ring laden and a pale pink.

Music and shared laughter creates its own traveling sound up the stairs and into his bedroom, yet you two seem undisturbed and unbothered, as it attempts to blanket itself and tries to add on to the comfortable silence the two of you created. "What's your name?" You can't help but ask, a dazed and content look coinciding on both of your expressions as you do so, his thumbs rising from the carpet to brush against yours in a delicate caress.

"James." He simply answers, and your lips raise with the simplicity of it.

"Fitting." You muse, shifting your legs to stretch them out, a light blush dusting your cheeks as your socked feet make contact with his closest thigh. Footsteps traipse themselves up the stairs and pause near the entrance of James' room, and you both let out a laugh as Lars' head hesitantly pops in through the side of the doorway.

The relief on his face is both palpable, and shit-eating all at once. "Looks like I gave you the right room to change in after all," he begins, pleased. "Enough of the chit chat shit. I've got three hundred people downstairs close to passing out, but they're still begging for shots, and I've got three other band members curious about what kind of girl is special enough to keep James away from the alcohol for so long."

The shorter band member ducks down fast enough to miss the tennis shoe coming his way, letting out a hysterical laugh as it flies past him and parachutes down the flight of stairs instead, a resounding shout of muffled pain coming from the bottom of it.

You all share a mutual look of shock, before bursting into laughter. Tears spring to your eyes, and it's hard for you to decipher if they're actually from amusement or from relief. Relief from being around two now named strangers, who seem to be more welcoming to you than your own roommates, who promised to take you in and treat you well. Relief from having to hold back laughter, so you wouldn't be too loud and interrupt a study session, or an afternoon nap.

A ringed hand holds itself out to you once you stop laughing and lightly wipe at your eyes, your own widening as you realize the two of them must be waiting for you. You quickly take ahold of James' hand and avoid Lars' cheeky gaze, the large and calloused palm holding your hand currently helping to keep your own warm.

A shiver travels its way down your spine and goosebumps reappear on your lower legs as you're helped to stand upright, a light breath of laughter coming to life in between you two as you nearly slide from your socks again. Using James' unyielding and firm grasp on your hand for assistance, you squat down to grab ahold of the oversized denim that was offered to you earlier, and shyly wave the pair of jeans in the air near your decently covered chest. "Can you two turn around real quick?" You ask quietly, guilt overcoming you as you appear to provisionally put them out of getting back to their party once again. Lars turns around to face the doorway as soon as you finish your sentence, and James quickly walks over to the door and kicks it shut once you're fully stood back up and his shirt falls back down into place to bracket and cover your upper thighs.

You walk with caution in your socks over to the bed and lean against the bottom frame, before yanking them off entirely and shoving each of your bare feet through the larger legs of the denim. A sound of amusement tears itself out of your chest as you grip onto the waistband of them with both of your hands, and you call out for them to turn back around and see for themselves. Lars lets out a snort and James looks at you with a small smile, before exhaling a breathy chuckle and nodding his head towards his best friend. "You might be better off borrowing a pair of his, since he's closer to you in height and size."

You raise a hand to hide a laugh behind your palm as Lars lets out a half stilted, indignant sound, his bloodshot eyes staring up at his bandmate with unhidden betrayal and his hands coming up to hold onto his hips. "I'll have you know I still get plenty of chicks, short stature and all." You watch as James vehemently nods and runs a hand down his back, before reaching forward and reopening his bedroom door. Lars squares his shoulders and slides through the partial opening, only momentarily pausing to throw his head back to the side to send you both a playful glare. You can't help the wide smile that spreads your lips, the lighthearted sound escaping James' own making it even harder for you to hold back and hide your joviality.

"Is he always like this?" You ask, tired laughter chortling through you as James halfheartedly raises a hand to slowly shake it back and forth.

"Only since '81, when I met him." Your guys' joint amusement delicately turns back into comfortable silence, and the wide smile on your lips melts into a bashful grin. James watches you as you shift your weight on each foot and duck your head, tendrils of loose locks hiding your soft features from his various glimpses of you.

James twists his hand around the doorknob and almost nervously licks his lips. "I'm kind of glad your asshole roommates sent you over here," he starts, his breath stuttering in his chest as you lift your head back up to look at him. "I don't think we would have met if you wouldn't have been." His sentence ends in a near whisper, and your grip on your pants loosens, your fully covered feet making their way over to him on autopilot. You pause mid step, you two now only a breath of a distance away from each other.

"I don't know about that," you murmur, your eyes darting down to his parted lips, your own still lifted and feeling light. "I still think I would have made my way on over to you. To the both of you- all of you, I guess." A light blush dusts your cheeks as you stammer, and James nearly jumps as Lars suddenly reappears, his eyebrows raised and his reddened eyes knowing and glinting.

"Let's get you looking even more mismatched and fucked up for downstairs." He sarcastically cheers, sending a soft smile your way as he places a comfortable looking pair of sweatpants and non-slip socks in your awaiting hands. You thank him and let out a sigh of relief as they turn around to face the door again. You secure the sweats with the drawstring and tuck the bottom half of the dress shirt into the waistline, before bending down to carefully slide on the socks.

"Just to let you know, James has his own bathroom attached to his bedroom and it's only a few feet away." You look up at the sound of an audible slap and yelp, a laugh bellowing out of you as you watch James fluster and shake his head in disbelief. He quickly glances at you once you notify them you're fully dressed, his eyes wide with panic and his plush lips set in a frown. You lightly tap him on the shoulder and grin up at him, letting him know it was alright.

"I- we only stayed in the room because you asked for us to turn around," he excuses, his eyes meeting yours and his tone of voice lowering. "I didn't think you'd be comfortable with me leaving you alone, with such a big party going on downstairs. Anyone could have walked in, and I. I wanted to make sure you were alright." His best friend tosses his head down and hides a grin at his bandmate's uncharacteristic shy tone and body language. You look up at him in silent awe and slowly reach forward to squeeze his hand in thanks, your eyes widening as he instead twists his hand around to securely hold onto yours. Lars glances down at your joined hands and theatrically sighs, before yanking the rest of the door open, not even flinching as it bounces off the wall behind it and James curses him out loud.

"And that was your fault, because you didn't listen to me when I spoke to you guys about the protectant foam plaster," he accuses, his tone sharp but his words light. Lars sends you both an impatient look, before stepping out of the room and beckoning you guys' forward. "You ready to try out a black tooth grin?"

"What exactly is a black tooth grin?" You hesitantly ask, your expression turning cautious as James and Lars smile in unison and don't answer.

"Let's get fucked up, you fucks." Lars sighs out as you three eventually make your way back downstairs, the curse words in his sentence sounding like terms of endearment. You peer up at James once you step off the last stair and onto the bright and chilled tile, hesitantly squeezing his hand before delicately disentangling yours to let go.

"Are you sure it's alright for me to stay the night?" You nearly whisper, the current crowd around you making you feel completely out of your element and uneasy.

James' fingers firmly tighten around yours, before properly engulfing your digits with his, his bright blue eyes looking down at you intently, but gently at the same time.

"You are more than welcome, sweetheart." Lars' head snaps towards you two, and for a moment, you instinctively expect him to decline the offer or disagree. Instead, he sends you both a mirthful, wide shit-eating grin.

"Sweetheart. Fitting." He muses, over the top. James raises a hand to smack him on the back of the head, but he moves too quickly out of the way. "Cheeky, little eavesdropping shit." James mutters to himself, the wide and elated grin on his face counterproductive to the rough tone in his voice. You squeeze his hand reassuringly, smiling up at him as he beams down at you.

"Let's get fucked up, you fucks." You mimic without imitating your new friend's accent, biting back a laugh as James raises an eyebrow and lifts his arm to guide you toward the table full of alcohol. Your eyes widen as a multitude of unknown and already half empty bottles greet you on a table nearly ten feet long, so many bottles on it that they nearly slide off with each step you two take forward. Three pairs of inquisitive eyes make their way on over to you as you step forward to stand alongside James, the awkward smile on your face endearing enough to make them grin back at you and drunkenly introduce themselves. You turn your head to watch as James pours a copious amount of whisky and coke into a solo cup, grabbing a handful of ice and dropping it inside of the concoction before handing it over to you. You wince at the burn during your first sip, but grin as the sweetness of the soda soothes it soon after. James guides you over to a vacant seat once you finish greeting his friends and nearly has you sitting in his lap, letting out a physical laugh against your back as you playfully ask him if he could make you something stronger once you down your first drink.

"Oh, sweetheart. You're going to regret saying that to me, of all people."

⭒

"I just don't think you'd want me on your team is all," you drawl out tipsily, your movements feeling more at ease as you share a secretive smile with Cliff over the edge of your bottle. "I'm not that good at beer pong. Wouldn't want to slow you down or make you lose the game." James narrows his eyes at you as pitters of laughter follow soon after your words, before tossing back the rest of his drink and hastily standing up.

"Alright then. Jason, Kirk, you're with me." he announces, his own tone dazed but still energized. You bite back a laugh as you watch him partially stumble over to a cluttered table and attempt to shove all of its used contents into the nearest trash bin, him missing nearly ninety percent of it and the rest just narrowly making its way inside. You and Lars stand up at the same time and share a wild grin, you quickly following suit of him filling up solo cups and placing them in their assigned spots. Cliff makes his way over and stands in the middle of your side of the pool table, with Lars to his right and you to his left. Thick wafts of smoke encircle themselves around your head and give you a mild second hand high, as he simultaneously sucks on the handmade filter of a backwoods pre-rolled blunt and places his part of the betting money on the side of the table closest to Kirk.

"I saw you make those three beer bottles in that trash can ten feet away an hour ago. You make those same shots with these ping pong balls, we split the money evenly and you'll have something to tease James about," Cliff whispers to you, voice muffled as he inhales a large puff of marijuana mixed with nicotine and allows it to expel out of his nostrils. He shoots an innocent looking smile to James as he watches you two from across the table, his calloused fingertips teasing the precipice of his cup and his eyes rarely straying away from you. Your lips lift even higher as the two of you make eye contact, a blush making permanent dormancy on the apples of your cheeks as an uncontrollable smile lifts his own. You force yourself to look away as Cliff continues to speak. "Although I don't think that'll be a problem. You could miss every point and we'd still probably win; with the way he can't stop looking at you."

"Just stand there and send him a smile every few minutes, why don't you." Lars adds, ducking forward as you try to reach behind Cliff and hit him on his back.

"Just for that, I'm going to try and beat your highest score," you playfully threaten, your eyes lazily rolling to the side as your newly acquired friend cries out a childish ooh. You shift closer to Cliff and begin to pay attention as the game starts on James' side. "Is it dumb of me to feel bad for lying to him about not being good at beer pong?" You quietly ask him, your voice nearly inaudible over the few drunks staying the night and the rest of party goers slowly making their way out and home, their loud declarations of them having a good time making your ears ring. Cliff sends you an inquisitive look, before raising an eyebrow and lowering down his ashtray, his lip ticking upward on the side as Lars curses out loud and lifts up another solo cup. Kirk smirks and leans against the pool table, his slightly crooked middle finger reaching past the few cups left on their side to greet his best friend with his digit.

"I think it's nice of you to feel guilty for something as small as lying about not being good at beer pong. It shows the good in you," he pauses mid answer as he bounces his ball towards the largest cup on the opposite side of the table, his side smirk turning into a full-blown grin as Kirk huffs and hesitantly lifts up the goblet full of vodka. Cliff lightly nudges you with his elbow until you loosen up and breathe out a soft chuckle. "As long as you don't lie about serious shit and you treat him well, then you have nothing to worry about."

You hum, before stopping in place and shooting your eyes upward to quizzically look at him. "Was that a subtle threat?" You ask him, impressed and amused as he gives you an overexaggerated once over and throws his ball without even looking. As you gape and watch as his ball catches along the side of the rim of the cup and lands in the plastic alcoholic beverage with ease, Cliff sends James a wink and passes you a ball from the half empty bucket beside you.

"Your turn."

You take a deep breath and push his half assed response to the back of your mind, the heels of your heavily socked feet lifting from the ground as you toss your ping pong ball over to their side of the table. You close your eyes and hold back a wince as silence envelops everyone around you, before jumping in shock as Lars reaches over past Cliff and grips your shoulders with a loud cheer. "You double tapped, which means someone has to drink from both cups, and you get another shot," a small, celebratory smile makes its way to your lips, it quickly turning into a small, mirthful smirk as James picks up both cups and pours them into one. "Drink it and weep, bitch."

James sends Lars a dirty look, before tossing the half-filled cup of beer back in a few large gulps, a grimace etched in his facial features as he bitterly swallows the room temperature lager. "Last time I checked, you and Kirk sucked ass the last four times we played and nearly gave yourselves alcohol poisoning."

Kirk lets out a resounding groan, the goblet nearly toppling over as he blindly drops it back down on the table, his forearms immediately wrapping themselves around his middle once both of his hands are free. "Don't talk about that, man. I'll throw up just from thinking about it," you send him a sympathetic look and toss him your spare elastic, nodding back at him as he shouts out a drunken thank you and haphazardly ties up his hair. "I think I might need to forfeit. Some crazy shit is going on down there."

Jason perks up and from his tired stupor on the side of the table, his eyes already half closed, and his arms open wide enough for Kirk to fall into. Kirk lets out a sigh of relief once he's embraced and able to lean against something that isn't an inanimate object, blindly reaching up to pat on his bandmate's curly hair in gratitude. "Sounds good to me, I've got another gig in the afternoon and the smell of Yuengling is getting to me."

Lars lets out an elongated yawn and Cliff nods to himself, before turning to you and tilting his head towards a downtrodden looking James. You speak up before you have the chance to second guess it, wanting and craving to see the youthful smile on his face once again.

"You and me," you propose, feeling shy as the rest of the guys pause their slow movements and look over at you. You keep your eyes trained on James, his blue irises reigniting and lighting up with your next words, his hands halting in the process of collecting the still filled cups. "Whoever double taps or gets the next two shots in a row, wins. Whoever loses owes the winner something."

James unfurls and realigns the cups in their original positions, sending you a cheeky grin as you teasingly toss a ping pong ball back and forth in between your cupped hands. "So, what do you say?"

"You know, sweetheart. A lucky double tap or two during a 3v3 doesn't necessarily mean you're going to be able to win against or beat me." Your jaw ticks as he proudly waits for your response, his ringed fingers curling around the thick edges of wood in anticipation for your response.

You take a deep breath and steady yourself, before simply saying, "Get ready to lose, big boy."

⭒

A wide grin lifts your entire face as you watch James chug down the last gulp in his final solo cup, his eyes displaying his obvious exhaustion and drunkenness as he tosses it down once he's finished. "I can't believe I just lost to a girl." You go to look around for the response from the boys, but grin to yourself once you remember that they all forced themselves to go to sleep about an hour ago.

You let out a laugh of disbelief and set down your half-finished bottle of water, meeting James halfway as he clumsily tries to clean up the mess on the table. "I guess I finally found your flaw." You announce, the second hand high and earlier inebriation slowly easing off and allowing you to feel clearer minded.

James places the garbage bag down and gently grabs ahold of your hands, using them as leverage to tug you forward and into his arms. "And what would that be?" You let out a teasing hum and laugh into his chest as he breathes out an impatient grunt. Taking a step back, you smile as his flushed cheeks and slightly disheveled hair come back into view.

"Not only are you the definition of a sore loser, but you're also misogynistic." You hold back a bout of laughter as he sputters and immediately begins to disagree.

"That's not true," he denies, unclasping one of his hands from yours to tilt your chin up and hold you in place with his thumb and index fingers. You playfully raise an eyebrow and allow yourself to giggle as he continues to vehemently disagree. "I respect you, respected you so much that I didn't even try to look at you while you were changing earlier," James' voice lowers into an unsure whisper, his thumb grazing the soft skin on your jawline. "I wanted to."

Your breath hitches in your chest at his confession, your free hand coming up to encircle itself around his raised wrist. You watch as his eyes deepen in color at your newfound touch, his eyelids starting to look weighed down. "Yeah?" You quietly ask him back, warmth pooling in your groin as he silently nods and ardently looks down at you. "I wanted you to look at me too."

James wets his lips and guides you forward with his grip on your chin, close to the point of your breaths mingling and nearly merging into one. "You said the loser owes the winner something," you dazingly blink and nod up at him, the tips of your toes rubbing against the front of his boots as you step closer, are guided closer. Your eyes hood as he brings himself down to your height, his natural scent and combination of cologne and alcohol enough to make your head feel as if it was swimming. James' thumb lightly tugs at your bottom lip, and you open your mouth obediently, your grip tightening around his wrist as he lets out a shuttered exhale. "Tell me what you want then," he pleads. "I'll give you anything. Just tell me."

You try to tell yourself that it's too soon, that he'll get tired of you once he gets what he wants. But you've never had a man look at you like this before. Not just looking like he wanted you, but wanted to engrave you into him, to make you a permanent by his side. You release his wrist and slide a hand into the thick locks near the nape of his neck and bring him in, impossibly closer, your heart feeling as if it was about to beat and land outside of your chest.

"Kiss me," you gasp into the electrified air, the warm puffs of exhalation of his breaths against you full on stop, before he lets out a sigh of relief and places his lips on top of yours.

Whisky and beer and mixed drinks are what you taste at first, but they all fall behind as his arms lower down to your middle and lift you from the ground, your own arms entangling themselves around his neck and your lips parting as an invitation as he kisses you breathless. Day old stubble brushes against your cupids bow as his tongue testily makes its way into your awaiting mouth, and you moan as he instinctively laps at the roof of your mouth and brings his teeth forward to nip at your bottom lip. You suck on his tongue and caress his with your own, wanting to familiarize yourself with the taste of his appendage and spit.

Your legs rise and wrap around his waist as he grips your flesh so firmly, you know they'll be fingerprints embedded in your skin for days after. You feel him grunt against you as you tug at the hair residing right above his scalp, thick spit trails keeping you both connected as you two part, the coolness in the air from the winter now long gone. Heat curls in your middle, and you have to stop yourself from lowering your sex to rub against his front.

James shudders and licks up the slabs of connective saliva that land on his chin, leaning towards you once more to share the taste, before despairingly disconnecting with you once again.

You both gasp for breath, your chests beating erratically and hands grasping so tightly onto each other that if one of you two were to try and pull away, the other would refuse and tighten their grip. You lean forward to rest your forehead against his and airily breathe in his scent. James' large palms rub their way up and down the spine of your back, and he lets out an adoration filled laugh as you only half successfully hold back a quiet yawn.

"Think I should take you up to the guest room." He murmurs in the silent room around you two, the soft and seemingly all-defining cadence in his tone making your eyelids feel even heavier. You peer up at him through blurry eyes, the exhaustion you felt earlier finally catching up with you now.

"I can't sleep with you?" You tiredly ask, a blood red flush making its way down your chest as James simply raises an eyebrow and rests his hands near the swell of your ass.

"If you come up to my room, the last thing we'll be doing is sleeping," he admits, his lips brushing against yours as he speaks. You absentmindedly lick your lips to chase the taste of him and freeze in place as his mouth impulsively opens for you. James lets out a groan and tosses his head back, his facial expression looking almost pained. His fingertips ground themselves into your backside and you let out a helpless moan, his own cock twitching with interest at the sound you emit. "I want to take my time with you, have to," he whispers in the space between you two. James tilts his head forward and places a gentle kiss to your forehead, before maneuvering you back down on your feet. His hands come down to cradle yours, and he brings them up to his chest. "I've rushed things before and fucked them up, but I don't want to do that with you. There's something special here, and I know you can feel it too."

You nod in agreeance and lightly rub the pads of your fingertips against his almost trembling knuckles. "I do. Of course I do, James." You reassure him gently, wishing to bring yourself back in his arms already.

"Let's take our time with this, figure this shit out and make it work," he says in a more stable tone, your admittance of returning what he felt giving him enough confidence to continue. "And when we figure all this out and everything settles through, the only place you'll be wanting to be at is my bedroom." Your grip tightens around his and you let out a huff of annoyance, a small smile gathering on your kissed red lips as James refuses to let you go as you try to tug your hands away.

"Okay," you agree, your eyelids fluttering shut as he lets go of one of your hands to cradle the side of your face instead. You tiredly reopen them and nearly gasp at the amorous look on his face, his pupils blown wide and the lightest shade of blue you've seen of them yet. "We'll wait and we'll take our time."

James leans back down once more, sliding his lips against yours in a slick and passionate kiss, before forcing himself to let you go and taking a step back. You pulse forward, every fiber in your being craving to be closer to a man you had just barely met, but felt like you already knew. Before you can overthink, a warm hand engulfs yours and gently tugs you forward. You fight back a shiver as a cold waft of air makes its way to your feet underneath the front door as you walk past it, and up the staircase. You let out a shocked bout of laughter as your feet are swept out from underneath you, and you relax against his chest as he carries you the rest of the way to your temporary room.

You hold back a sound of displeasure as you're placed back down and stepped away from again, a door only a few feet away from his a few inches away from you now. You swallow thickly and feel yourself flush as you watch James hungrily track the movement.

"Sweetheart, I need you to walk away from me first." You furrow your brows in confusion, before understanding. Fighting back the urge to step closer to him and grasp onto his solid warmth, you instead take a step back and grip onto his dress shirt instead.

"Goodnight." You murmur out, the electrified air that once surrounded you two downstairs, now feels stagnant and needy, hungry. James places his hands in his jean jacket and whispers the same sentiment, watching you slowly make your way into the guest bedroom, and even further away from the only person you currently wanted to be around.

You let out an exhausted sigh and run your hand against the wall until you find a light switch, automatically flinching as it's situated right in front of you and on top of a side table. You kick off the sweatpants and neatly fold them and place them on top of the dresser closest to the door, the ends of James' shirt falling down your thighs feeling like the ghost of his temporary and earlier touch.

You moan in relief once you situate yourself in bed and are under the covers, your nearly fully closed eyes snapping open and a tired smile encapsulating your entire face, as a gentle knock raps itself a few times against the wall separating the two of you. A gentle reminder that he was still there, and you two still had time. As you quickly find yourself falling asleep, the only words that come to mind are the words that you two had whispered to each other earlier, in your guys' first ever promise.

Make it work.

And to this day, I still wish for it to.

#metallica #james hetfield #james hetfield x reader #james hetfield smut #james hetfield fluff #lars ulrich #kirk hammett #jason newsted #cliff burton #metallica smut #metallica x reader #metallica imagines #metallica fanfiction

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gakusbearemoji · 2 months

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Dive into You

wrng: cringe! fluff, idc I put my soul into it so it’s good , reader is turning 20

You have always been a little bit spoiled. Your father paid your tuition, being a coach at your school, your mother still did your meal planning and cooked for you while paying for groceries. You just had to attend classes and at least graduate. Not too hard, right? Sadly, there were a few more terms than that. Your mother didn’t care what you did, but your father cared very much. So much so, that he scares off every guy who has ever tried to date you. Because of this, you have been single your whole life. Since you were turning twenty in a month, you wanted things to change before your age did.

You were going to get a boyfriend. You had about twenty days to do so. Seems hard, but putting your best foot forward you worked to change. You started caring about your style, wearing clothes that match aesthetically and having moisturized skin. You even noticed in yourself that it had made a difference. You liked this version of yourself better, so you kept onto the routine.

And it seemed to have worked, because when you walked into the library, a boy with frizzy, dark brown hair stopped you. “Uhm, excuse me ma’am? Could you help me with something?” He spoke softly, almost entrancing you to listen deeper and make sure you knew what he was saying. “Yeah, what do you need help with?” You questioned, the boy staring at his feet. “I know you’re in my creative writing class, can you help me with our projects? I just don’t understand the prompt.”

You cracked the boy a soft smile, leading him to a table in the library. “Of course! Here, first let’s see which one you’ve picked.” The boy progressively opened up to you, smiling and laughing at your jokes. “If you just follow my specifics, you should easily get an A plus.” You put your hand on his shoulder, and you noticed how the tips of his ears turned red. “T-thank you. My name is, um, Anton.” He spoke, making you smile even wider. “My name is Y/N, it’s been very nice to meet you. If you ever need help again, just ask.”

You walked away, leaving the boy staring at where you were sitting before. He was missing you as quickly as he met you.

“Let’s go, hurry!” Your father shouted, blowing his whistle from around his neck. You had finished your work yesterday, so you decided to sit in during your father’s swim practice. “Have you boys ever heard of a stroke? Cause instead of doing one, you're about to give me one!” He screamed, everyone in the pool climbing out.

Your eyes went wide as you saw probably the best sight of your life. Anton climbed out of the pool, hair wet and clinging to his forehead, with tight swimming shorts on. “ANTON! Get over here.” Your father shouted, Anton dragging his body slowly towards him. “Yes, Coach?” He muttered, looking up through his soaked bangs. “Talk to me like a man! Look me in the eyes and promise me you’ll fix this before regionals.”

“I..I promise.” He spoke, your father rolling his eyes. “Like. A. Man.” You had enough of watching your father verbally abuse that sweet boy, so you went up to him. “Dad, leave him alone! He’s trying his best.” You held onto Anton’s arm, batting your eyelashes. “You’re so mean.” You pouted, Anton’s face burning once again. Coach narrowed his eyes at Anton, almost baring his teeth at him. “Ten backwards, Lee.” He shouted, You let go of Anton as he walked away. “Thank you.” He mouthed to you, making you smile in return.

“Y/n! Hey wait.” He shouted, making you turn around while you were walking to the canteen. “I just wanted to thank you for helping me out earlier. I- I mean, Coach did give me a lot of back talk about it but I was able to get him to leave me alone.” He smiled at you, making you giggle. “My dad is like that. You just have to have tough skin. Anyways, want to have lunch with me today?”

Anton followed you to your mat, sitting under a random oak tree to enjoy your meal your mother made for you as always. Anton was eating a bag of chips from a nearby vending machine, his legs crossed as he admired the scenery. “So, you seem to like swimming. Never took you as the type. I thought you’d be a bookworm.” You stared at the water fountain in the field, admiring its flow. “Yeah, I’ve always found it easy to swim. The water is kind of my safe space.” Anton stared into your eyes, admiring their glow and how it reminded him of a beam of sun hitting the water, the reflection as warm as your presence.

You turned to look at him, making him redirect his gaze to the roots of the tree. “I’ve got to admit, you're starting to grow on me, Anton. I think we should hang out more.” You suggested, making Anton smile widely.

He gave you that same wide smile as he entered your dorm, large as ever, though your roommate was home. “Hi, Sullyoon. Me and Anton are just going to be in my room, so we’ll be out of your hair.” You rushed into your bedroom, slamming your body on your bed. “Ugh, it’s so comfortable here. Do you want to watch a movie? Here, you pick.” You tossed the remote to Anton, crawling under your sheets. “Just, nothing cheesy.”

The movie ended, and you ended up with your face against his chest. Suddenly, he got up to take a phone call. You sat down, facing your floor and waving your feet. You heard shushed talking, “Yeah ... .no just give me time. I'm doing it right now, so be ready for it, ok?” Anton giggled, saying bye and hanging up the phone. He came back into the room, and your mind started to race.

Was this all a prank? Did he know you were desperate for love and was using you to prove a point? You started to get a sick feeling in your gut. “Uh, I think you should leave, Anton.” You whispered, still staring at your feet. “Oh, uhm, yeah. Of course, sorry if I overstayed my welcome or anything. I’ll see you tomorrow?” He awkwardly gathered his things, standing at your door awaiting an answer. But you didn’t say anything.

The next day, you completely avoided Anton. You didn’t let him walk you to class in the morning, you didn’t eat with him during lunch. Worst of all for him, you never showed up to his swim practice. Because of this, his performance was off. His times were leaps behind, and his dives were uncoordinated. He couldn’t stop thinking about what he could’ve possibly done.

His coach blew the whistle to insinuate practice was done, everyone leaving the pool. “Anton! What is up with you? You can’t fall behind this close to regionals.”

“I’m sorry, Coach. I’ll do ten.” He sadly mumbled, inhaling deeply before turning around to get back into the water. “Wait.” He turned back around, an evident frown on his face. “You don’t have to do anything extra. I understand. Just take a rest day, okay?” Anton smiled with his eyes, drifting to the locker room.

After Anton was finished changing, his coach called him into his office. “Yes, sir?” He whispered, sitting down into the chair. “I give you my blessing.” He spoke sternly. Anton sat there in silence, processing his words. “To date my daughter. But god forbid you try anything.” Anton sighed, looking into his coach's eyes. “Thank you sir.”

You were wrapped up in your sheets, messy hair and tears rolling down your face. You really had a magic ability of pushing everyone who cares about you away over the dumbest things. You wanted to call Anton, to say sorry. To tell him it was wrong to avoid him and you were worried over nothing. But you weren’t even sure he would answer.

Sullyoon knocked on your door, making you groan. “What is it?” “A boy is here? He says his name is Anton.” Your eyes blew wide, jumping out of your bed. You put a hoodie on, going to open the front door. Anton stood there, confidently staring into your eyes. “Y/n, I just need to say I’m sorry. Whatever I did to deserve this, I am so sorry. These are for you.” He handed you a bouquet of bellflowers, with a note attached.

“Let me take you out tomorrow, to you know, make up for my mistakes?” He suggested, smiling carefully. You pulled him by the collar into your apartment, pressing your soft lips against his warm ones. “I think I’d like that a lot.”

#riize #riize x reader #riize imagines #riize fluff #riize anton

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kaybreezy3000 · 3 months

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In The Flesh

Five Hargreeves / Reader Insert

Imagine that Five wasn't alone the entire time he was in the apocalypse...

-This is a special reader request for an extended scene from my Five Centric fanfic 'The Anti Hero's Pitfall of Arrogance.' Set during the apocalypse and Five is only 21.

-This request is a bit of a spoiler alert to the story that inspired it. It's written with a non-descript female character with no name, only referred to as she or her, so it's sort of a reader insert/you sort of vibe, or you can think of it as simply someone that Five loved. Think of it as you or someone else, either way, it's sad. 😭

Heed the warnings and click the link in the summary to read the full story if you want to get the full picture of what led up to this very sad moment for our favorite guy.

Warning: possible triggers, suicidal thoughts/behavior issues, alcohol abuse/excessive drinking, extreme grief/loss, graphic description of death/corpse, we get some Dolores in this, meant to be very sad, this fic this is based on is not all gloom and doom but it's clearly not all pretty either.

(5312 words)

In The Flesh

The funny thing about rock bottom is I’d thought I’d hit it many times before she saved me but really there is no depth far enough down to describe where I was after finding her body and where I would be for a very long time after that.

Like I’d done every day since I saw her favorite baseball cap bobbing on that partially submerged branch stuck out in the depths of the churning flood waters, I was out looking for her. On my endless searches, I would yell her name, over and over, till my voice was nothing more than a pained screech of air.

It was as I was scouring a new area that the water had receded that I went to shout her name again but stopped with only the first faint syllable.

The moment I saw her distinctly colorful sandal and what appeared to be the discolored fragments of flesh still clinging to the bones trapped in it, the wind shifted, and my nostrils were filled with a pungent, sickeningly sweet, earthy odor.

That is what the smell of death is like if a body has been exposed to the elements for ten days or more. The anatomy and physiology decomposition literature states, a body exposed to the elements begins to decompose within less than 1 hour postmortem. That rate is accelerated if the tissues are exposed to other factors such blunt force trauma or heat and moisture.

She had been exposed to all of it.

I could still hear the ominous sound of the huge trees snapping and boulders grinding over things in the swift current as I walked along the road, just hours after she’d gone, only then, I didn’t know she wasn’t coming back. I didn’t know what was being done to her.

Now her body was there, under the hardened soil, but her foot was the only part of her that was visible other than her twisted tangle of hair wrapped around a river beaten branch.

For the last week I’d been lying to myself, trying to hang on to the idea that she was still out there, that she was just too mad at me to come home. But really, in that time, she’d been first submerged in the torrents of flood water decimating that landscape, and then after, (not long based on the murky pool of muck and the very small cracks in the clay at my feet), she’d been there, encased in the ground.

I cried out her name.

I dropped the stick I’d been using to poke and prod the underbrush, my body instantly disappearing for a fraction of a second into the snapping vacuum of my portal. Stepping out of it a few yards away, I fell to my knees, my trembling hands not knowing what to do or what was safe to touch. I moved to her foot, then pulled back as the tiny black flies that were startled by my presence flew up in an angry swarm.

The temperature since the day she disappeared had been colder but that had done nothing to prevent her rapid decay.

Entomology and Body Decomp 101: A decomposing body will attract all manner of life forms within 24 after death. If allowed access, scavengers are ruthless in their pursuit of the flesh of the dead.

Having been well read prior to my time in the apocalypse and being well acquainted with death in the years before this, I was still not prepared for what I saw or had to go through over the next several hours it took to free her.

Her body was no longer her anymore, but I couldn't accept that. My mind told me she was under there and she was so scared.

Frantically, I started digging with my bare hands. No matter how careful I was clawing at the clay that had molded her in the ground, anytime my fingers came close to her, they crushed her slick, wet remnants of flesh, tearing it through.

At this point, she had surpassed the early stages of decomposition. Gone was the bloating. The gases and liquids had mostly expelled, and her skeleton was letting go of her skin, though in some areas it remained in denser sections that were identifiable but mostly because her clothes had embedded in her. Her jean shorts made clear where her abdomen was, what was left of her chest was now part of her t-shirt.

What I was seeing and touching and smelling made my stomach heave over and over but still I had to save her.

She had needed me, and I wasn’t there.

Stage 4 post-decay lacks some of the first levels of putridity, but even though I had seen hundreds of thousands of faces of death, seeing hers will always represent the loss of everything; even more so than the day I’d foolishly ran into the future, lost my family, and found I couldn’t get back.

“No, no, no,” I sobbed, my filthy, bloodied fingertips inching along her face, or what should have been her face. “I am so sorry… Please! No! God, please!”

The mouth I had cherished was gaping, her once perfect teeth were more exposed than they should have been due to the skin around them receding or simply just not being there at all.

Her eyes…

Where once someone had looked back at me with so much love and endless understanding, now there was horror, both mine and hers.

Sickness took me again.

Dizzy, I frantically scrambled back, away from where I had unearthed most of her, my stomach emptied, but nothing but acid spilled onto the scattering of broken foliage off to my side.

My ears were filled with the evil buzzing sound of insects that were warming themselves in the open area around us as the sun relentlessly beat down.

I couldn’t take it.

A feral sound of pure agony crawled out of my chest, getting eaten away by all the nothingness.

“Please, I am so sorry… Please forgive me, I never meant for…”

She wouldn’t except my words and I couldn’t blame her.

My broken cries were lost in my delirium. On hands and knees, I came back to her, lifting her to me even though I shouldn’t have.

The gruesome sound of parts of her stickily pulling free from the ground and the sight of the parts of her that remained in the soil were enough to fracture what was left of my sanity.

“It’s okay. I’ve got you, we can go home now,” I shushed her, in my head believing I had the ability to soothe her pain.

She still said nothing, and I told myself it was because she was just too weak.

She just needed my help. She was just mad. She was just…

“You are safe now,” I said, my hand sinking into her, her spinal column hitting my palm not even enough to shock me back into reality.

After cradling her for far too long, I said, “I am not leaving you here.”

Lightly as possible, I let my shaking hand touch her hair, seeing but not acknowledging that it was starting to detach from her scalp. Without thinking, I forced the massive amounts of energy I needed for a jump, the blue power expanding from my hands, then around us.

I only took us across the drying riverbed, up the steep embankment and up the hill to where the road hadn’t been washed out, and that was far, but it was not even close to getting us back to our cabin. For that, I had planned to teleport again and again, as many times as it took but when my feet smacked the ground the force of it made the tendons holding her right thigh to her hip give way and the length of her leg landed at my feet.

“Fuck!” I screamed, slamming to my knees to grab her.

Like a madman, I could at least put together that she was falling apart and that this wasn’t going to work. Even jumping with her was too much. She was so fragile; she’d always said she wasn’t, but she was…

“I am so-ssss-sorry,” my voice cracked as I carefully laid her down again.

The sight of those tiny black bugs as they fought to get a piece of the woman I loved, caused me to feel the burn of violent anger and that almost brought me to my senses, but even that too, I washed away with another imaginary idea, that if I just covered her, somehow all the severed openings that were now more her than anything else, would be spared from further ruin.

In a frenzy, I stripped off my shirt, covering her with it the best I could. The moment I was able to get to my feet again, I swayed, the world spun, but when it came back into focus, I could see again like lightning struck my head, brightening the gray world around me, making the colors of her bright sandals and her hair and the tattered remains of her clothing stand out in stark contrast to the deep darkened purple of her rotting body.

My filthy hand came up, rubbing my face and my blurred eyes, then my fingers tore back as I painfully yanked at my hair.

I had done this to her.

Sniffling and on the verge of a full screaming fit of rage, I turned and started making my way up the road, a few steps away, my hands coming together, my fingers like claws, I tried to gather the light in my hands to blink again, but instead I was met with the impotence of the faintest swirls of azure static crackling to life then fizzling out.

Turning back to the motionless pile on the ground, I again assured her I’d be back. Then in a haze, like a zombie on empty, I mindlessly made my way back, my mud-covered boots trudging up the steep hill, my balance faltering over and over as I’d tripped over the uneven surface.

If you ask me what I was thinking during that walk, I couldn't tell you. All I knew was that I was empty and that a horrible numbness was taking hold.

Even still, I came back fast, like I’d promised. First, I placed her in a thick blanket, sure to get every bit that was her that was there, anything that wasn’t, I never found.

“There,” I breathed, positioning her leg that had been torn off at the hip in such a way that looked less painful. Then flapping away any visible bugs from her, I covered her completely. Knowing that she was in the later stages of decomposition but that it was far from over and she was seeping fluids, I lifted her, and laid the cocoon of wool on top of a tarp.

I could have carried her the whole way but not wanting to hurt her or break her apart more than she already was, I only carried her to the cart I’d brought back with me, then I carefully laid her in.

Though she didn’t answer no matter how much I wanted her to, I spoke to her the whole way as I tugged the wagon with her in it up the hill.

Getting back to our home, the mud encrusted wheels clattered to a stop in the yard right next to the chair I had been sitting in the day we had gotten into our fight. It was dead silent and getting so dark by that point that the stars were coming out but as if in a time loop in hell, I could still hear the cruel things I’d said to her on that sunny morning.

Looking down at the small mound of blanket with her in it, I said, “You have to forgive me. I don’t know what to do without you. I don’t want to live with-”

My heart was racing, I couldn’t breathe. My chest felt a new tightness where before, since the hours after she’d gone and not come back, I’d only felt the stabbing pain of regret and fear, now it was like an aching void as if there were an actual hole inside me.

I stood there blankly staring at the door, then back to her, my mind not working at all but somehow still functioning enough to make the start of a string of very bad decisions.

Taking her up in my arms, we went inside. “We’re back. You're not alone anymore. I never meant to leave you out there like that. I tried so hard to find you,” I said, smothering my words against her wrap. “It’s okay now…we are okay…”

I kicked the door closed then I moved straight for our bed, and I would have laid her down in it and climbed right in if not for the fact that Dolores was sitting in the chair next to it, staring at me looking horrified.

‘No, Five, don’t!’

Saying nothing, I spun around to instead place the bundle in my arms on the couch in front of the fireplace. It wasn’t lit and it needed to be. That’s what she and I did at night. That was our other special place.

Memories of sitting there together, her behind me, reaching around to place my fingers correctly to play the chords she was trying to teach me filled my head. I could almost trick myself into thinking I could hear her beautiful playing and that I could hear her laugh at me every time I’d try to get out of my lessons.

“This is okay. I’ll fix this. We are going to be okay,” I said, as I started to unwrap her.

Dolores panicked at the sight in front of us. ‘Five, no. She’s gone. This isn’t right. What are you doing?”

I stopped, leaving her under wraps but I ignored Dolores’ s warning and started to light the fire.

Again, Dolores asked, ‘Five, what are you doing? She is dead. You can’t do this to yourself.’

“She’s not dead!” I shrieked, my eyes filling with welling tears as I clenched my hands, my broken fingernails slicing half-moons into the flesh of my dirty palms.

‘I am sorry, Five, but she is. You knew that after she didn’t come back.”

My head turned back and forth as I shook away a flood of tears threatening to come out and drown me like the water had done to all that I loved. I pinched my eyes shut, a broken whimper squeaking out of my throat.

‘Look at yourself, Five… You are not okay. That is why she can’t stay here. I love her too, but she is gone.’

I opened my eyes and looked at myself. I had no shirt on, my body was covered in mud and death.

The smell of me…

The smell of her poor body…

‘You need to bury her. She wouldn’t want this.’

“No,” I whispered as my body trembled and I stared blankly at the floor. “No,” I said again, then screamed, “Stop!!!! Just stop! Don’t you fucking talk to me! I didn’t ask for your help! It didn’t ask for any of this!”

Refusing to look up and see the hurt on Dolores’s face, I looked to the motionless pile of fleece blanket.

“I am not putting you out there all alone again, sweetheart.”

With that affirmation, and me placing a kiss to her covered face, the night did not get better.

In the light of the fire, I sat there on the floor in front of the couch as close to her as I could be without touching her. I wanted to protect her. I needed to keep my promise that I wasn’t going to leave her.

So many times, she and I had discussed the possibility of me being able to jump back in time and the fact that doing so with her was going to make it all the harder for me to pull off. Even with the right math, and just me, the energy needed to do it was something I hadn’t figured out how to achieve. Even though she had said that me getting back was all that mattered, I refused to consider leaving without her.

I couldn’t leave her, not then and not now; that was what I kept telling myself.

Sometime late into the night, slumped against the plaid couch, my head resting near hers though she remained covered, my demented and wrong train of thoughts slipped away, and sleep took me but in it l found no solace.

~~~

As I came to in the early hours of the next morning with my body crumbled on the cold floor, I knew instantly that everything I wanted to believe was okay was not.

The dimly lit cabin smelled of death and I was graced with the buzzing sound of a half a dozen or more flies that had found their way in somehow in the tiniest of cracks.

The decay had been clinging to me since I found her, but I refused to acknowledge it even as the putrid odor only added to my ongoing nausea. I clumsily reached for the stale glass of water I’d left at some point on the end table. Drinking it burned my cracked lips and the taste of it felt laced with a bitter acid. I wanted to retch but managed to refrain.

Then, wanting to remain living in the land of make believe, I got up, went to our small kitchen area, and proceeded to grab several bottles of liquor.

Dropping down next to her again, I twisted a cap, sloshing the clear liquid as I tipped it back, dumping the alcohol down my raw throat.

It was awful but that was not the only time I’d drank to forget, or that I’d drank things that were questionable in their quality.

“Remember when we found that stash of cheap wine with the seals broken,” I quietly asked.

I took a long pull at the bottle, then another as I peered over my shoulder at her laying there on under her favorite blanket.

“Smarter than me as always, you refused to drink any of it, but not me… Stupid as always, I gave it a try and boy did I pay for it. You had to baby me for the entire next day. God, I am such a lightweight. I’d be dead if not for you.”

I laughed, the sound of it thick with irony.

“You were always so good to me…”

Eyeing the dried mud and smears of her flesh on my pants, my eyes blurred.

“I didn’t deserve you and you didn’t deserve this.”

I started to cry. Then I started to hyperventilate, my breaths coming too fast and my head spinning.

Shuddering, I drank more and more but I could never turn the image of my girl’s face staring back at me from that riverbed into the beautiful living version I wanted so badly to believe was still with me.

Hours later, I was disturbingly drunk.

One minute I was musing to myself about our better times, talking out loud like a maniac about something so wonderful, like one night that she and I were out scavenging too far to come back, and we’d camped out under the stars. I’d told her the names of all the constellations I knew and there were many. She’d quietly listened, cuddled up next to me, both of us just happy to be in love and together even if our world was a landscape of tragedy.

Together, we could have done anything. We were going to save the world.

Now she was gone.

I had nothing.

She’d been everything and now I had no one again.

With the room spinning, I abruptly got to my feet, stumbling towards the window above the sink basin. The flies zipped and buzzed in front of me, landing in the vomit I had left there after I’d finished the first bottle of liquor. Knowing that those same dirty insects were landing on my beautiful girl made me quake with not just sickness but unmeasurable self-hatred.

I was a fucking mess, and I wasn’t doing right by her.

Dolores was right.

Glancing back to where I had abandoned Dolores almost two days prior, the room tilted in my vision. I dizzily turned back, clutching the white cast iron basin.

The light outside was fading. I wanted to go along with it. I wanted all the horrible pain and debilitating heartache to stop.

Laying on the butcher block counter space where we prepared our meals, was a sharp kitchen blade. With where my head was at, seeing it, I immediately thought of my gun and other times of morbid desperation.

My tears burned down my cheeks.

I hated myself so much for what I had caused. If I had not yelled at her, and if I could only have seen through my arrogance and own my deficiencies, she would still be here. I didn’t and instead did what I’d always done and blamed anyone but myself for my problems.

I’d taken out everything on her, again…

If I’d only learned from my mistakes, things that weren’t okay never would have been said. She never would have felt the need to be away from me. She never would have gone for that walk, and if she had, I would have been by her side. If I had just agreed with her to go to the city to try something new, I may not have had the breakthrough we needed so badly but at least she’d be there.

Feeling on the verge of vomiting again, I wanted to disappear into an alcohol induced coma.

I pushed off the sink, staggering like a drunken idiot the whole way back to the dresser that was next to my side of the bed. In a blur, I saw Dolores sitting there on her chair, but she didn’t say anything. She looked every bit the inanimate object she was.

It was as if I’d killed her too.

I yanked the top drawer open, my hand tearing through the clothes to find the heavy black metal object that my fucked-up mind craved.

My fingers grazed the cold instrument of death. I could feel the barrel of the pistol sticking down my throat, the oiled slickness of it slipping past my parting lips.

Just the thought made me gag but with sick fascination, and I didn't’ stop thinking about it.

All it would take is one second and my finger on the trigger and no more guilt. My brain would be a splatter of nothing, painting the bedspread behind me. The place we’d slept and loved would be ruined just like we were.

Images of us, heated tangled flesh, together in those same blankets filled my mind.

To get away from the hurt that memory caused, I looked up, the weapon in my hand but my eyes aimed at the small dresser mirror. It was as if a stranger was looking back at me. My stomach felt like it was trying to crawl out of my mouth and my vision was closing in with blackness threatening to pull me under.

I was seeing things and hearing things.

The loud pop of the bullet; the sound of my body hitting the floor.

I saw bugs crawling out of the jagged rotting hole in my skull.

Then I saw her face, only not the destroyed one that was hidden under the blankets on the couch.

That was when I finally came back to myself.

“Don’t you fucking do it,” I furiously screamed at myself, throwing the gun back down in the drawer.

My ears were ringing from my own terrified voice reverberating in them, then a few seconds later, the silence of death and that room returned.

It was just me, the mannequin and the body.

Dolores was right, I needed to let her go.

I had to bury her.

~~~

Over the next several hours, through the task of digging a hole in the ground, I sobered up significantly. Having done that, I re-entered the dank, horrid smelling cabin, removing the small pile of remains that had been the love of my life.

I was still covered in layers of filth and knowing that even if Dolores wouldn’t speak to me, she’d loved her as much as me and she’d want to be there to say goodbye, I quickly washed myself outside under the spout attached to the spring fed line that was rigged to the house. Splashing my face with a mix of soap and water, I cleaned my battered hands, and my arms, and I removed my soiled pants, tossing them in the woods.

The water streaming down my body was ice cold and disgusting. My fleshly cleaned and very pale skin ran under my fingers, standing in stark contrast to the filth that I was and the sight of it only furthered the much-needed reality check I'd only recently found.

Once I’d made myself somewhat more presentable, I redressed, then silently approached Dolores.

My voice cracked from being burned by stomach acid so many times and by my screams and lack of simply drinking or eating appropriately for days, but I had the strength and weakness to ask her for something I didn't deserve.

“Please come with me…I don’t want to do this alone.”

When Dolores responded with her softly spoken words of devotion, ‘You are never alone, Five. You will always have me,’ I was nearly beside myself with emotion. I’d thought I’d lost her along with everything else.

“Oh, my God, thank you,” I sobbed as I lifted Dolores up and carried her outside into the yard.

We approached the hole I’d dug. It wasn’t that deep, and it wasn’t that big, but it didn’t need to be. It was in front of an ancient but long dead ash tree that she had once told me had to have been something truly beautiful at one point in time when it was alive.

It was just like her.

The burial was silent, save for the sound of the blade of my shovel slicing through the softened pile of dirt I had removed and then replaced.

The sky was getting dark, the woods full of shadows of monstrous things that looked like they could come out of the night and pull you away forever.

I sat, folded in on myself at the base of the old ash tree, the disturbed soil at my feet as I looked up to the highest branches of the barren tree. Its flesh had been taken. Remanence of its bark were scattered all around me. It would someday be nothing but dust.

We all would be, but it was not my time-yet.

Burying my head in my hands, I kept telling myself that.

~~~

In the days that came after that, it rained and rained. My mind tormented me constantly with the flawed idea that she was trapped out there in the crushing wet ground. One second, I’d be haunted by images of her so scared and trying to breath and break free as then dirty water filled her lungs, and then the next, I’d come back to the dimly lit room I was in; Dolores worriedly watching me as I slowly organized things and cleaned up my many messes.

We couldn't stay there, but I couldn't bring myself to leave either, not when everything I had that she'd ever touched was right there. All around me were parts of her life that she’d shared with me. I’d clung to every trinket; every item of fabric that bore her scent.

Lying in bed at night, I’d break down into sobbing fits of anguish with my face buried in her pillow. I could stay like that for hours on end, fading in and out, tricking my mind and heart into thinking I hadn't lost her and that she was right there in bed next to me. But it would never last because the damp coldness of the empty space around me that had once been warmed by everything that was her was an inescapable reminder that I had failed the woman I loved and who had saved me.

It was in a notion during one of these times of despair that I realized the only thing I could do to redeem what I had done was to fix this like I'd always promised her I would. Out there somewhere in time there was a place where the world was still alive, and she was in it and everyone I ever cared about was still flesh and blood and filled with life.

I had to get back.

The pain that happened here was real and always would be but somewhere out there, there was a chance of better things.

There was a chance of seeing her again.

That idea of saving her and my family was the only way, and it was my reason for breathing again.

Broken, but somehow still standing, my heart though not the same was still beating. The flesh covering my hand could still feel hers in it and it was while cherishing that feeling that I made the decision that it was time to go.

On our final day, I got up like every day since I’d put her in the ground under that tree. I came outside, picking up the wildflowers I had left for her the day before, then I went for a short walk, talking to her in my mind the entire time, making my usual promises while I worked through ideas and math and things that gave me hope. Then I’d come back, refill her favorite vase with new water and place the colorful blooms there above her.

Alone, the sun shone down on me, my shadow stretching across the earth above her, giving the illusion that we were laying there together.

“I love you,” I whispered, my eyes blinking back the enormous weight I felt from her loss and would always feel.

I liked to think I heard her say she loved me back, but I knew she didn’t; it was just a memory of her words tickling my ear as her lips gently kissed along my neck.

I shivered from head to toe as I felt the ghost of her touch but not in a bad way.

I smiled, sniffing like a baby as I rubbed my eyes.

Then, making one last promise I said, “You will be okay. I’ll fix this.”

Going back in the house, with Dolores watching all the while, obedient and loyal and loving with words of encouragement, I packed my final things.

I left our cabin spotless and set up as if we were coming back to it. It was as if I could see us in there again, spending our nights in front of that fireplace, laughing and endlessly teasing each other; our bed ready for us to lay down in and explore each other in new and exciting ways that only made our love stronger. I saw all that but in the back of my head I knew I was never going to come back to that place because it was gone, and if I did return, I may never leave her.

So, it was with that in mind, late in the morning, I loaded Dolores with our supplies, setting her next to the hard black guitar case that held her cherished Christmas present I'd given her and so many other things I couldn’t let go. I pulled a blanket around Dolores and the case, as if the instrument inside it had become something in a way of being the woman I’d lost, so much the way Dolores was a real thing that needed my care and love.

I walked to the old, grayed ash tree, its wind worn and smooth branches shone in the warm sun as I looked down at the ground where I’d left a piece of my heart. I could almost hear the sound of her playing my favorite sone and I knew that when I plucked those strings, a piece of my heart would break a little more with each strum, but I’d be back with her.

My lower lip trembled, and my nose burned with the same heat as my eyes.

“Until we meet again, my love…”

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