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#he is soft and lovely but just closed off because of his fear of losing people
zivazivc · 3 days
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im too scared to ask because of the answer but is Hed and Les relationship ok?
(you should be scared)
They love each other unconditionally and are closer than most siblings, and I want to answer with a definite yes, but it’s more of a soft yes.
They’d die for each other and would never want to cause each other any harm, but they both hold very deep-rooted and painful resentment toward each other. This anger, while valid on its own, feels unjustifiable and selfish to both brothers, and is why they have a hard time addressing it. It only starts to get resolved later (for now I’m aiming at the time frame after Floyd leaves the band and before Les runs into him again, which is Hed’s late twenties and Les’s early thirties) when Les finally opens up to Hed about things that happened during their early childhood in the Rock Kingdom, which Hed was too young to comprehend or remember, and this revelation puts a lot of things into perspective for Hed and is extremely cathartic for both of them.
Like I’ve mentioned, Les didn’t talk to Hed about his trauma, (they are four years apart which is a big gap when you’re a kid), and Hed could never fully understand why Les had taken him with him to the Funk Kingdom. It’s a question he never receives an honest answer to, and it’s something he (although unwillingly/with doubt) resents him for since he had a difficult childhood in Vibe City as the only tiny Rock Troll who always got othered and excluded, even bullied.
There is also the related issue where Hed doesn’t understand why his brother is so troubled and disconnected, because he’s under the impression that they’ve more or less been in the same boat all their lives. That it’s always been them against the world. He even thinks Les had it better than him since he is half Funk and sticks out less like a sore thumb among a Funk society than Hed does…
I realize I’ve never addressed this directly, even though I figure some of you probably assume it already, but Les is a deeply depressed character and has been like this since he was very young (similar to Branch, although it’s expressed differently), and he has occasional episodes where he spirals and even becomes suicidal. The first time it happened and he tried to go through with it, Hed was only 8-10 years old, and the fact that his big brother was willing to end it all and leave him alone shook Hed’s entire world. The incident filled him with such intense fear and hurt that he cannot find it in him to forgive his brother for it no matter how much he wants to. He also developed anxiety surrounding Les’s mental state and is terrified of letting him out of his sight for longer periods for fear of losing him.
Les’s resentment towards Hed stems mostly from jealousy and not knowing where to direct his own hurt, and he hates himself for these feelings because none of it is Hed’s fault. — Hed is/was both of their dads’ favorite son, and as far as Les is convinced, he was their mom’s favorite too. He dodged all the worst abuse Les experienced under Butch, Butch even flaunted Hed as his son just to put Les down, and as a little kid Les pretty much hated his baby brother for it. Hed was always seen as the “better” brother even though Hed was a loud brat compared to Les. But it didn’t take long for him to grow on Ish and his roommates while there was always tension between Les and his dad (due to Les already being deeply messed up by the time they got to Ish). Hed in general is a charismatic social butterfly who knows how to get on trolls’ good side. He vibes with both Rock and Funk Trolls, and clicks with most music and trolls in general, while Les struggles with social interactions that aren’t work related and often comes off awkward, especially as a teenager, he’s more casual in his twenties and onward, though still very much closed off.
Hed is also very smart (academically, in regards to reading the room he is a dumbass), he always kept up with school, which he was allowed to attend without question, there was even early talk about uni, while Les never even got to finish elementary school because of his poor performance and him getting expelled over an incident, and was forced to start working early.
Hed also (because of his small size) was often let off the hook when he’d get into trouble/do something stupid. He was babied (word used loosely) by Ish and their uncles a lot in general. If Hed broke something, he’d get yelled at while Les would have to fix it or pay for it out of his pocket. 
They lived under two completely different sets of rules all their lives and Les festered a lot of hurt from the unfairness of it.
Les’s resentment wanes over time. Floyd is the one who helps him find release for a lot of his bottled up pain during their time together. Floyd is basically the first person Les confides in about nearly everything he was put through, and he encourages Les to talk to Hed about it. Which he does after a few years, and Hed learning about what his brother was put through as a little kid is what allows him to finally understand and forgive his brother…
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milomilesmib · 11 months
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Nico: why is Leo clinging to you like that?
Jason: a few hours ago he heard me singing "Nobody Loves Me" and thought I genuinely felt unloved and had a mental breakdown so I offered him comfort and he's been here ever since.
Nico:
Nico: oh, honey.
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pseudowho · 2 months
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The Wristwatch
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You had not known you were Nanami Kento's girl, until the Wristwatch Incident.
In truth, your affection had been brewing so slowly, you had not known if you were imagining it.
You had not realised you were in love with Kento, until he leaned in close, and you smelled the smoky, wood-rich warmth of him. Until you found yourself nursing stomach-dropping disappointment, if your phone pinged and it wasn't him. Until you woke up in cold sweats, the memory of the dream of his skin on yours so vivid that your heartbeat throbbed between your legs.
You couldn't accept it. It couldn't be love, when he did not love you back. And yet...that intoxicating dance continued, while your head dipped in denial...blinkered.
The extra coffee that would be slid over the desk to you, by a strong, gentle hand. The late night phonecalls, decompressing from the stress of your missions. The occasional dinner in each others' company, because, well...we both need to eat? Why not eat together?
You were afraid to label it; afraid to lose the soft skirting intimacy that you had. Nanami Kento was a hard man to gauge; alternately sincere and distant, warm and cool, closely familiar and objectively analytical. He kept you at arms' length; close enough to brush fingertips, but far enough that you could run...if you wanted. And you never did.
You had gone shopping, together, one balmy spring afternoon. You both needed new clothes...so why not together? It makes sense, really. Nothing else in it, I'm sure. Just friends. He doesn't feel that way about me, anyway.
He had insisted upon Ginza Shopping Mall. You balked at the exquisitely-expensive-upmarketness of it, but you could never deny him, for fear of losing this time together. You had perused for new earrings, your belly clenching at the many zeroes on every pricetag. He had ambled over to another counter, just browsing, and there for quite some time.
"See anything you like?" That deep-roast voice broke you out of your reverie. You looked up, into twinkling hazel eyes, and blushed. Yes, you. One of you, Kento, please and thank you.
"No," you scoffed, turning your back on the jewellery, and walking towards the shop door, "too cheap for me. I couldn't possibly be seen wearing them."
Kento laughed, slipping a box into his pocket, and walking just close enough to send your brain into a spiral. You barely functioned through lunch. Kento remained, as ever, a gentleman.
As he drove you to your door, and you bid him a flustered goodnight, you felt that same big, warm hand on your arm, holding you back to him.
"Wait," Kento insisted, "I have...something. For you. Open it when you're home." He pressed a smooth, embossed box into your hands. You could not see what it was, under the glossy paper sleeve. You opened your mouth to chastise Kento, and he interrupted smoothly.
"It's your birthday soon. Consider it an early gift. You couldn't possibly refuse...?" One raised, fine eyebrow. That cool, impassive gaze. You pouted. Sneaky old goat.
"Alright. You win this time, Kento...but I'll get you back," you had promised. He had simply smiled indulgently, stepped out to open your door, and watched you until you were inside.
With trembling hands, you slid the smooth paper cover off the box, and your stomach somersaulted.
Tag Heuer.
"No...Kento-- you didn't," you hushed to yourself, rushing to open the box.
You fumbled an exquisite silver, blue-faced women's watch out of the box. It seemed, somehow, familiar. You couldn't possibly. You knew the pricetag on these. Even the packaging was too expensive for you.
With one hand over your mouth and a pounding little heart, you sent Kento a text with shaky hands;
Nanami Kento. Absolutely not. Take it back.
A few anxious minutes, pacing, looking at the watch resting on the table and gasping each time. Three small dot dot dots...dot dot dots...and a response.
Sorry. Lost the receipt. It will look good on you.
Squeaking and grinning to yourself, you tried the watch on. You took it off. You paced. You tried it on again. You fell back onto your bed, legs kicking, and hands over your face.
Every further refusal you send to Kento, was flatly ignored. He left you on read all night.
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The next day, at work, you couldn't help but notice the looks you were receiving. They weren't bad looks, certainly, more...surprise? Happy acceptance? Knowing smiles? Each person the same; glancing to your watch, eyebrows raising, and searching your face with a grin. You didn't understand it.
Over lunch, Shoko reached over to you, a coffee in her other hand, and tapped the new watch on your wrist.
"Couples' watches now, hmm?" She smirked. You frowned, questioning. Shoko scoffed at you, as if you were playing coy, when you didn't even know the rules of the game. Shoko's smile didn't falter once.
You confronted Kento later that afternoon, dragging him into a dusty narrow corridor, and holding the watch up to him with fighting eyes.
Kento's heart burst with pride, biting his lip with a sly smile, and taking your wristwatched hand in his own. He tipped your arm back and forth, admiring the watch on your wrist from all angles, with a lovesick sigh. You suddenly recalled, with flushed cheeks, where you had seen such a similar wristwatch before.
Kento watched your mental gymnastics with a slowly growing smile. You almost caught on fire as he raised your hand to his lips, pressing an adoring kiss to the back of your knuckles.
"Wondered how long you'd take to notice," Kento rumbled, eyed closed and nuzzling his nose against your fingers, "that you're my girl. And always have been."
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skyahri · 3 months
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How They'd Do You |Naruto Men X Reader| HC
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Characters: Sasuke Uchiha, Kakashi Hatake, Shikamaru Nara, Madara Uchiha, and Naruto Uzumaki.
Summary: How they are in bed.
Warnings: NSFW. Mentions of sex and foreplay. Breeding kink, breast and nipple play, head, etc.
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Sasuke Uchiha
Sasuke isn't one to give up control very easily, especially when he's in any sort of vulnerable state.
More often than not, he's on top of you, forcing your legs against your chest and not holding anything back as he thrusts into you.
On the rare occasion he allows you to top, he's still 100% in control. He always ends up taking over towards the end when he can't take it anymore. His release is close, and something in his brain is begging him to rail you.
He wouldn't be into actual choking in fear he'd lose control of his strength, but he's not afraid to use your neck as a handle of sorts to keep your body from moving too much.
Hes the embodiment of a breeding kink.
He's close to his end. He places his hand on your stomach and forces his seed in you.
If he's still got stamina, he's pushing you onto your hands and knees for round two, ass high up in the air.
"Not a single drop spills. Got it?"
Emergency contraceptive is your best friend, but let's be real. It fails sooner rather than later based on the sheer amount you rely on it.
Kakashi Hatake
Foreplay king. He loves head, both giving and receiving, sometimes even at the same time. Nipple play, fingering, whatever it is you're needing, he's providing.
Passionate.
When he does share his mind, it's never a light matter, and sex is no different.
Kissing, hand holding, praising - it's all a very important part of the act for him. He's pouring his heart and soul into you every time you're together.
But don't get it wrong, he's still a man. Those sweet nothings and soft whispers about how much he loves you quickly turn into dirty talk.
"You're such a good girl."
"You look so pretty wrapped around my cock."
"You're mine, you know that?"
He definitely sticks his fingers in your mouth.
After a certain point, he let's his dick do the thinking for him. You don't mind one bit.
He's all about aftercare. Rags or showers or just physical contact, whatever you want, he's got it. He knows he's not always the best at taking care of you, but this is one instance where he's confident about what he's doing.
Shikamaru Nara
My man is lazy and that doesn't change, even in the bedroom.
He usually doesn't go down on you but enjoys when you sit on his face. He'll wrap his arms around to grip your thighs. He's never one to turn down head but doesn't really make foreplay a priority.
Some might call him a pillow princess at first glance, but it's deeper than that. He has the control, he just let's you do the work most of the time.
You may be on top, but his strong grip and guiding fingers tell you exactly what to do.
Sometimes, he doesn't care for the pleasantries that come with dragging it out. He'll nestle between your legs and let his head dip down to your neck.
Lazy thrusts, but that's fine. Deeper is always better than faster.
He doesn't really do dirty talk, but he's definitely not silent. He's vocal, always groaning, maybe he'll tell you that he loves you if he's feeling a certain way.
Madara Uchiha
Most of the time, he's hate fucking you.
There's no time for foreplay when he's immediately slamming you against the wall when he gets home.
Despite all the anger radiating off of him as he mercilessly thrusts into you, he's calling you the sweetest nicknames he can think of. Love or Darling or something of the sort.
He always finishes inside. You're not sure if he's just too busy letting his frustration out to think, or if he's actively trying to get you pregnant.
It's both... sort of. For him, anger is just passion and fuel. It has nothing to do with his actions. He's pumping you full of his cum because he likes to claim you. He wants you to bare his children. He wants people to know you're his.
Aftercare isn't as straightforward for him. He's not offering to clean you up, but he tries to find ways to subtly apologize for turning you into a toy.
Naruto Uzumaki
Naruto runs on pure instinct in every aspect of his life.
He's doing what feels right in the moment and confirming it with you if it's something he's unsure about. (Consent is key).
He's a people pleaser. He's always making sure he takes care of you before he even thinks about himself. Eating you out, fingering, breast play, whatever you want.
He's sloppy. It's just something that always emerges with him. He's placing wet kisses on your neck, his hand placement can sometimes be a bit awkward, but it all adds to the experience.
His head gets so foggy with love and lust that he honestly can't think straight. The way his body takes control and he ravages you in an almost primal way, it's to die for.
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gojosatorubrainrot · 18 days
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Scars don't define you💫
Summary: Gojo starts to feel insecure about your love for him because of his scars
Feat: Gojo Satoru x reader
Content: fluff, mentions of Gojo vs Sukuna fight, reassuring, body insecurities, husband!Gojo x Wife!Reader. Ch 261 doesn't exist lol
Wc: 1121
Author's note: Hi!! I've never thought I will ever be doing this but here we are! Encouraged by my gojo friends in discord to continue this drabble🥰 Sorry in advanced for my poor grammar, English is not my first language 🫡
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The Shinjuku incident meant a reborn for the the strongest sorcerer, and you, his wife as well. You almost lost the love of your life by the hands of the King of Curses. At first, you thought everything was over when you saw him laying down on the floor, his lifeless body starting to be covered by the heavy snow storm that had began to fall minutes earlier.
You felt useless, after all, you were a non sorcerer, so,as a civilian, you didn't to have another choice than staying where Shoko and the others were watching the battle being broadcasted.
But its been a long time since that jumpscare and you thanked every existent God and also Shoko for bringing your reason of living back to your arms.
Satoru and you both were laying in bed together, you are running your fingers along his scarred face; each fingertips of yours feeling every single injury of his skin.
As you continue with your doing,he closes his eyes at the softness of your sweet touch, at first, he enjoys it a lot, he always loved the way you did it, always being careful as if he was a glass meant to break, but fear set up on his mind;he thought you hated his scars, that you despise them and  those marks ruined his pretty face, that you wouldn't love him anymore and, eventually, you would leave him alone as everyone did during his life, but this time, he wouldn't have a reason of living because you are his everything.
He doesn't even want to think how a life without in it would be, how alone he would feel again just like he did after Suguru's departure.
When that event occurred, when he was ordered to kill his best friend, he has never felt so useless as a sorcerer, but most of all, as a human being, so that was the reason he chose to stay alone for the rest of his days, to prevent someone from getting hurt by the mere fact of being involved with him. That was his idea until he met you at his favorite kikufuku store. He didn't believe in love at the first sight until he met you nor how does it feel to be in love until you.
you, his everything
He was afraid of losing you again, but now it was because of his appearance, he hated those scars because that meant you won't call him pretty angel or pretty face ever again. On the other hand, they were his reminder of a second opportunity, an opportunity he would take advantage of. His second chance to make things right and spend as much time as he could with you: not spending nights working or on mission trips, only with you, his home.
Now he is debating if telling you or not about his insecurity with his scarred skin, because he thinks you would laugh at this and ignore him, but call him silly for thinking that.
As he thinks about that, he sits up, preparing to get his shirt on. You can see how the mood changed, how an intimate moment filled with love and adoration became one filled with insecurities and non spoken words. He is looking for his shirt to put it on and leave the bedroom towards the balcony, so he can spare his mind off a little bit.
You wonder why he was feeling troubled and why he decided to ignore you and not talking with you as he has always done before. You are hesitant about ask him or not, you always wanted to give Satoru his space, you always respected that because after some time, he will come to you and tell you everything between thousands and thousands sorry for not telling you before.
All you can see now is his scarred back, and your intuition is screaming at you to do something so he could open himself up to you. After few seconds, an idea popped up in your mind; while satoru has his head between his hands, you approached to him slowly trying to not get noticed.
Satoru, who was lost in thoughts, suddenly felt your plump and soft lips along his scared back, giving it small pecs and smooches, replacing your lips with your small fingers tracing every single scar. He didn't understand what you were doing so he let you do so. Suddenly,he feels something he has only felt with you and you only: loved, adored, cherished, he was seen as a human, not a pretty face as he has been called few times, the strongest weapon for the jujutsu society, he was Satoru Gojo for you, your Toru.
He turned his head to where you were tracing your fingers and stared at you: you were focused and determined to make him feel alive again.
His small chuckle made you look up and meet those blue eyes you fell in love with many years ago;
"Hi sweets" he whispered without looking away" What are you doing?"
"Hi Toru" you giggled at that nickname he gave you only when you both were in an intimate moment "Nothing, just admiring your beauty" you responded never looking away from his mesmerizing blue eyes.
"Nothing about me is beautiful, princess" he said defeated. "Look at me" he pointed at his scarred skin, despising it, hating it.
"I'm looking at you, Toru. I'm always looking at you and all I see it's the prettiest, the most caring, loving man that I've ever met" you said putting his face in between your hands "I love you,Toru. If you ever think those scars will stop me from loving you, I must tell you don't me well. These scars are telling me that you are here" you give him a kiss in the tip of his pinky nose "alive, with me in our home"
After yours words, Satoru’s eyes immediately fill with tears, but before you notice, he closes his eyes to stop them and leans his head to your warm and reassuring touch, a warm feeling inside his chest arises.
He feels so grateful with you, you are his everything.You stopped caressing him at the moment he opens his eyes, blue like the ocean itself "I love you, angel" he says at the same time you started caressing the scar across his cheek.
"I love you too, Satoru and remember that you can tell me any trouble or inconvenience you are living through, okay? I'll always love you until my last breath" you said finishing the sentence with a quick kiss, which is immediately reciprocated 
With this Satoru knew that he would never feel alone again.
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solbaby7 · 4 months
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Still Your Best
pairing: azriel x reader
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inspo: Still Your Best - Giveon
warnings: jealous azriel, some teasing, sexual tension, misogyny, this some toxic relationship shit so don’t expect the right decisions to be made here
summary: You’re trying to move on after years of pining over a certain Shadowsinger but he’s not ready to let go
Damien was—nice.
A little predictable but he tried to be a gentlemen; held open your doors and pulled out your chairs at every dinner. He remembered the little things, was a decent cook, clean enough and worked hard.
But, you didn’t feel the spark.
Even after weeks of planned lunches and candlelit dinners accompanied with fine wines and good conversation but you couldn’t see yourself falling in love—at least not yet; not without effort. It’s partially why you’d never brought him around the Inner Circle; slightly worried about making your private life public in fears that it was moving things along too soon.
Was it normal to invite someone you didn’t love to meet your family?
There’s not enough time to really figure it out, to work out the kinds and tie lose ends before Damien is asking to meet them. “You’ve met mine.”
It was true; his family was—nice. A kind enough mother and a father who wasn’t exactly present but he was a good provider and Damien insisted that even without his dad around much, he still had a good life. You don’t think much of it until you start noticing little things; condescending responses when you tell him you’re leaving to go train with Cassian. “Enjoy it—a wife of mine will be too busy with our children to be running about playing with swords.”
You bite your tongue, deeming it too soon in the relationship to give him a piece of your mind and falling into a placating role is anything but love inducing. “You’re entitled to your opinion. It’s awfully early to be talking about that sort of thing anyway.”
Damien shrugs it off, already bored with the conversation and moving onto another. “Either way, I’d still like to meet them—your family,” Your eye twitches at the way he says it; like just because it wasn’t by blood that it wasn’t something real. “Get to know the people who’ve been stealing you away from me all week.”
You comply with a strained smile, dread beginning to settle in when you bring it up to Rhysand a few days later. You downplay it, reiterating multiple times that it wasn’t obligatory in hopes that he and the other would be busy for now and the foreseeable future.
Of course, that’s not the case.
“Don’t be silly, we’d love to meet your new boyfriend.”
He doesn’t miss the way you cringe at the title. “Oh, that’s just—that’s just wonderful. Great.”
Your mood is no less sour three days later when you’re getting ready for said gathering, form stuffed in a little black dress you’d been saving for a special occasion and you figured now was a better time than ever. Plus, the confidence boost would help sooth the nerves that wouldn’t stop swarming beneath your skin.
“That’s a little short, Angel.”
You try not to roll your eyes at the pet name—soft and sweet and completely non-threatening. As if you hadn’t spent the entirety of your life beating your knuckles into the bones of men five times your size in a ring meant for close combat.
Still, your hands slide over the fabric, staring at your figure in the mirror when you murmur, “Not too bad though right? I thought it was really pretty.”
“Very pretty, just not for other eyes.” Damien gives you a small smile, warm palms cupping at your arms when he continues as if he’s doing you a favor. “I’ll let it slide though, just this once.”
“How generous.”
It takes everything in you not to scream when he makes a point to throw a long cardigan over his arm before you leave; trying to distract you by asking for a full run down of everyone and you’re quick to skip over the fact that maybe, once upon a time, you and Azriel were more than just friends. But the steaming, boiling anger subsides when you winnow him to the Night Court, his cheeks green as he struggled to keep his breakfast down.
Damien hated winnowing and for some reason that made you love it.
Even as you soothing rub his back, acutely aware of the eyes staring into your back from the entrance doors. Damien composes himself fairly quickly, sparing you a look when you’d promised he’d get used to it after a while. “It happens,” The High Lord of the Night Court greets, a friendly hand patting at Damien’s shoulder and you don’t miss the way Azriel’s eyes roll at the gesture. “Welcome, I’m Rhysand and this is my wife Feyre.”
Damien’s eyes go wide, making a move to bow to his knees but you stop him with a gentle smile. “I apologize, I’ve never really met a High Lord before.”
“He’s just Rhys right now,” You soothe, tugging him along to introduce him to the others and they can tell it’s a little overwhelming so you’re both quickly ushered to the sitting room. “The same Rhys who always splurges on the good shit—“ You cringe at the way Damien clears his throat, a brow raised at the profanity and you have to hide the burn of embarrassment for being checked in front of your friends. “Stuff. He always gets the good stuff.”
Nesta and Mor share a glance, watching you pour up a glass just for it to be swiftly snagged by your date who offers you one too but it’s significantly smaller. “Should take it slow, Angel. It’s not ladylike to get drunk when you’re being hosted.”
Your friends watch you nod with a tight smile, quietly thanking him for looking out before taking a slow sip.
Azriel scoffs in the corner, eyes rolling as he fills a glass of his own and your jaw clenched in response, an arm looping through Damien’s to show him around. You point at art you’ve seen a million times and nod every now and then when he runs off into a winded explanation of a vase he was sure was a prized possession but you were certain Rhys had gotten it from Mor as a gift three Winter Solstice’s ago.
Cassian wanders over, striking up casual conversation that you use as a chance to slip away, re-filling your glass much higher than respectable and took it back in one go with a glance over your shoulder. “Where’d you find this guy?”
“Do you actually care or are you being a prick?”
Rhysand lets out a laugh, hands tucked in his pockets as violet eyes scan the room. “Are you even allowed to say that word?”
You scoff, a hand swatting at his arm but you can’t smack away the embarrassment that appears. “This is exactly why I didn’t want you guys to meet him.” You lower your voice, fingers toying with the stitching on your dress. “We’ve only been seeing each other a few months. I didnt have enough time to—“
“To dump him before we found out about him?”
A pause, your lips purse and your fingers twitch for something stronger than whatever had been filling the decanter. “Fuck off, Rhys. Not everyone gets to have a fairytale ending like you do.”
His voice is softer, more careful and it takes effort to even hear what he’s saying. “Why don’t you just talk to him? I know you’ve seen him brooding in the corners.”
“Azriel made himself perfectly clear,” You hiss, no longer caring who saw when you reached out to grab a whole bottle of wine and all out ripped the cork free. “He can brood in the corners for the rest of our lives for all I care.”
Your form radiates agitation, positivity seething over a nearly overflowing glass before taking hefty gulps to quench the rage but it only seems to fuel it. Taking you back to that night, the cool breeze sifting through a dragging duvet while standing on the balcony with Az. You could still feel the afterglow, body radiating perfect health and contentment when he finally faces you, a grimace on strong features. “I think I have feelings for Elain.”
It hadn’t even amounted to much, grazing fingers and hushed conversations; strolls in the garden and hours hunched over a table putting together puzzles.
But Elain didn’t want more, barely grasping at the strings of her life as she knew it and more anger burns when you’re robbed of the ability to enjoy it. Enjoy him being hurt a fraction of the amount you’d been but the feeling never comes, just breathtakingly aching love—the need to hold and cradle him close and make promises you weren’t positive you’d be able to keep. “I’m sorry,” Rhys rests a hand on your shoulder but you’re quick to shift away from it.
“Forget it, can we just hurry this night along?”
He nods stiffly, lips pursed at your agitation but it doesn’t stop him from swiftly blocking you from sight when Damien begins walking over, offering enough time for you to finish your glass and ditch the bottle. “Anyone hungry?”
Nesta grins beside her mate, a knowing look in her eye when she sits down, tugging Cassian along with her and it takes a moment too long to realize that she’d directed every seat be filled—except the one before you. Teeth grind against each other when the shadowsinger sits down, chair creaking against the hardwood as he scoots in until you felt the tips of his shoes against your own. “Absolutely ravenous.”
Azriel doesn’t play nice, smirking to himself over his mashed potatoes when those familiar shadows creep under the table, licking up your ankles and leaving goosebumps in their wake. You tense, grip slipping on your fork and Damien raises a questioning brow. “You okay?”
You refrain from looking at the dark haired man across from you and force a smile. “Perfect,” You lean in for a kiss, lips millimeters away when Damien’s head turns to the side, choking on nothing but air. It passes rather quickly but your hands curl into fists under the table, swatting away the shadows curling around your knees, teasing at your thighs.
“Damien, do tell us how you two met?”
Mor doesn’t acknowledge your grateful stare but you’re certain she’d noticed it, biding you just enough time to swiftly throw Azriel a look that could kill—but it only seems to spur him on further. “I ran into her in the city, asked her out to apologize.”
“Clumsy, are you?”
Az doesn’t even acknowledge your heels stomping at his foot, smirk growing over the rim of his wine glass and you straighten in your seat. “I try not to be but when in the presence of such beauty,” Damien grazes his knuckles against the curve of your cheek, watching as you pile food on your plate. “She didn’t have such an appetite back then though—slow down it’s not going anywhere.”
A brow raises, hands freezing in their place, serving spoon hovering in midair as his words settle but you’re quick to recover. Offering a smile, you put the spoon back, returning the dish to its place.
A beat of time passes in complete silence.
“Excuse me?”
“Az, don’t.” Maybe it’s the nickname that slips—one Azriel hadn’t heard you use in months—that forces him to clamp his mouth shut but the way golden eyes go dark is unmistakable. The others are staring; more so at your date than you but ever so gracefully you take control of the situation, resting a hand lovingly on Damien’s shoulder, sparing a quick kiss there over the cotton of his shirt. “It’s fine, he’s right, I had a big lunch.”
Rhys takes over, directing small talk and grilling Damien with subtle questions. Where he was from. His parents and their lineage and you wince slightly at the way he describes the relationship between his parents. “I suppose my family is like any other. My father always raised me to be a strong male who provides and instills order within his home and my mother handles the other duties—certainly none of this fighting mess my angel seems intent on participating in.”
Nesta perks up in her seat, fork scraping against her plate. “She’s actually really good—taught me when I first got here.”
“Be that as it may,” Damien doesn’t even seem to notice the displeased looks directed at him, the shared glances and mental conversations about just how fucking awful they thought he was. But, none of them say a thing, intrigued by your lack of irritation. In fact, you looked quite pleased with yourself, sparing the spymaster quick glances after each degrading comment—like you were getting off on his growing anger. “It’s just not how I was raised. Playing with swords isn’t where she belongs.”
“And where exactly do you feel she belongs?” It’s a loaded question and judging by the low growl that laces Azriel’s words you know Damien’s answer will dictate how the rest of the night goes. If he’d be able to leave the house in one piece.
Damien shrugs as if the response is as easy as breathing, not aware in the slightest of the cobalt glow beginning to push through the thickness of Azriel’s leathers. “In the—“
“Dessert?” You sharply interject, standing abruptly and smoothing the wrinkles in your dress. “Come help me carry it out.” You don’t even look back, ears catching on the linen cloth smacking against the table before the gentle scratch of the chair. You don’t make a sound until you’re behind the kitchens double doors, fingers raking through your hair when you spin around.
Damien is not behind you.
Azriel is, and he’s entirely too close, stalking forward with a growing snarl on god-like features. All sharp cheekbones and a dark brow, even darker hair that falls over his forehead and tickles at the nape of his neck but your eyes are caught on the shape of his mouth. The ripple of his nose and the tightly strung cord of his jaw as he cages you to the counter. “Dump him.”
The smell of his cologne nearly knocks you clean off your feet and your body’s reaction to the proximity was steadily becoming the ultimate betrayal. “What?” He watches you shake yourself from the momentary stupor, a hand smacking at his chest but Azriel doesn’t so much as flinch. “Are you crazy?”
“I will go fucking batshit if you keep throwing yourself all over that sorry excuse of a male.”
It’s the promise coating each syllable that has your thighs clenching but it’s the large hand that ghosts over your silhouette that has arousal pooling in your underwear. Azriel tracks the slow swallow you take, the roll of your throat and it’s like you’re catapulted back in time. Back when it would’ve been your right to lean forward and press your mouth to his, to let those hands roam wherever they pleased as long as he was planning on reciprocating the pleasure. Your fingers clench at your sides at the very thought and there’s no hiding your scent in the air. “You don’t get to do this. You wanted her—you chose her.” Your heart slams against your chest so hard you feared an imprint would begin to form. There’s nowhere to run; nowhere to go that wasn’t completely engulfed in everything Azriel and you have to close your eyes as to not get lost in the familiar touch of his shadows on your skin. “We are over.”
“No, we aren’t.” He noses at your cheek, free hand curling at the side of your neck to make room and you swear at yourself for allowing it. For falling victim to his fucked up game and the way he seemed to know exactly where to touch; plush lips pressing the softest of kisses along your racing pulse and he fucking groans. “It isn’t over—we’ll never be over.” So low and deep, hand tightening ever so slightly at your neck in such a claiming gesture that you have to rip yourself from the delusions beginning to set root. “You will always be mine.”
“You’re insane if you really think that’s true.” Hopefully it sounds more sure than it felt coming out and it takes every ounce of strength you have to pull away, to push through the thick cloud of darkness surrounding you until the glow of the lights were visible again. Fluffy cakes and neatly iced cookies rest on elegant trays and you can’t seem to stop yourself from grabbing one and retreating as far away as possible. “Absolutely insane.” A choked yelp escapes when you bump into the wall, mouth stuffed full of sweet dough and light icing to occupy from the grating thought of dropping to your knees and letting him shove his cock as far back as your throat could allow.
“I can be,” He nods, a smile pulling on his handsome features and your gut clenches. “I’ll be nice and ask you one time to break up with him.”
“And if I don’t?”
Shadows slink up the back of your legs, over your ass—higher and higher until they wrap ever so delicately around your neck. “Then, I’ll kill him.”
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imsilay · 9 months
Text
Dozakh
i’m back? :>
word count: 1k
not smut just obsessed, manipulative König. also not very proofread cus im lazy and have no time T-T
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cr: @gruhhhuu
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His heart skipped a beat when you pushed him away. He just wanted to kiss you like he always did, but you didn't seem to be in a mood for it. Because you were determined to talk about what had been bothering you. "We need to talk, König." His eyebrows frowned with confusion and hunger. He needed your taste, and he wanted it now.
“Nein. Come here.” he growled, pulling you back into his arms and wrapping them tightly around your body, trapping your arms and leaving you no room to move. You struggled and squirmed to break free, only making him angrier. "Scheiße." He lifted you up, sitting with you on the couch. "Fine. Talk." he said, breathing impatiently, still holding you down in his arms.
His big, calloused hand ran through your hair as he tilted your chin up to meet his eyes. "I need some space." you murmured, trying to push him away once again to put some distance between your bodies. He sucked a sharp breath, squeezing your body to stop your movements. The moment you told him that you wanted to be at your apartment for a week to think about your relationship, his brain stopped working completely. How would he continue living without you? How would he eat, sleep and breathe? It was already difficult for him to be away when he was deployed, but how could you expect him to survive without you? "Ja? Why?" his voice sounded calm yet cold. You sighed and attempted to explain: "It's overwhelming, I know you love me, and you want me close, but this," gesturing to your place on his lap and his arms holding you firmly when his voice was cold like ice. "This doesn't feel like love. I love you. I really do, but I don't know if I like being so... clingy." you watched his jaw clench as you spoke. He was always like this, getting angry whenever you mentioned leaving. His arms tightened around your midsection, as if he feared you would slip away. You could hear his breathing, feel his searching eyes scan your face and body. He wanted to be brutal, but couldn't quite lose himself yet. Not yet, at least.
"You think I'm clingy, meine kleine?" he trailed off as his hand wrapped around your throat, not in a menacing manner, but enough to make your breath hitch. "I just wanted to show you how much I love you..." His thumb caressed your pulse, feeling it increase with every passing second. "You can't leave me... You couldn't live without me. That feeling will fade. You'll get used to it." he mumbled and pulled you under his mask, kissing you breathless until you forgot why you were pushing him. His lips devoured yours with such hunger it made your head spin. He pulled back for air and saw that you had a blank look on your face. “See? You didn’t actually want to leave.” he said, his voice slightly hoarse from lust. You panted and tried to catch your breath as he kept you just inches away. It was hot under his mask and his cologne was intoxicating. The arms around your waist slid into your shirt, and his fingers caressed your soft skin. You shivered and softly sighed at the feeling of his big palm covering your body. "König, not again." you sighed, as you tried to resist the temptation he was casting. "I'm not doing anything." he pouted playfully, and kissed you again. The kiss was soft, but you felt the hunger. You felt as if you saw a spark of possession in his eyes. "I know what you're trying to do." you said as he broke the kiss and leaned his forehead against yours. "What do you mean?" he mumbled, but you could still feel his hand squeeze your waist and his fingers dig into your skin. He moved closer and said, "I'm just showing you my love, meine kleine. Your lips are so addicting." As you tried to turn away, he growled and kissed your lips again, this time, forcefully. He then started moving downward to your neck, cheeks, and even your ears, without hesitation. You were his, and it didn't seem that you had a choice. He was marking you with red hickeys on your neck and jaw. When you tried to push him away, he caught your hands and pinned them between your bodies, holding your wrists with one hand. He used his other hand to grip your neck and hold you in place, stealing your breath away. "König, please stop!" you yelled. He finally stopped with your yelling. His eyes wide, and his pupils dilated, making him look like a starving predator, and you his sole prey. "Don't leave," he breathed, leaning in to kiss you again. You pulled your head out of his mask for some much-needed oxygen. You hoped he'd calm down even a little, but he didn't. Instead, he nearly ripped his mask off and glared at you, his jaw tightly clenched and his eyes filled with determination. "Can't you see how desperate I am? How could you abandon me?" he pulled your head closer using his grip on your throat and growled into your ear. Then a moment later, he began trembling, and tears filled his eyes. You felt his desperation and started to feel guilty. He let go of your wrists and moved both of his hands to hold your waist. "I'm sorry, darling. I'm not going to leave you. Don’t cry." you mumbled. You wiped away the tears. Your heart ached as you saw his tear-filled eyes, and you felt an urge to pull him closer. The sound of your voice, that sweet murmur of surrender, was the sweetest music to him. All he had wanted this whole time was you. And you were here. In his arms. He leaned forward and captured your lips. A hot, hungry, desperate kiss.
After the kiss he hugged you and buried his head into your neck as if inhaling your smell directly into his soul. “You’re so easy, but you’re mine.” he mumbled against your skin and kissed your neck softly. He smirked when you worriedly apologized and tried to soothe him. It always worked. If his words didn’t, his tears would definitely…
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a/n: please support me by reblogging, if you liked the content ofc <3 your comments also makes my day :* and i love to reply all of them :>
hii ~(T-T)/~ i have a really busy studying schedule that’s why im not online like before :’) but writing is my therapy AND my acc isn’t abandoned (i’m barely looking at my phone screen)
2K notes · View notes
cozage · 8 months
Note
First of all, love the way you write the characters and stories!! They’re so fun to read and always is a huge moodbooster!
May I request Law or the monster trio finding reader after finishing up a huge battle? (Like where the reader is too exhausted to move)
Please remember to take care of yourself so to not end up like overworked reader!! You’re always allowed and deserving of rest 🫶
Characters: gn reader x Law, Luffy, Sanji, Zoro Cw: post-battle exhaustion  Total word count: 800
Post Battle
Law
Law would be pissed that you spent all of your energy to fight a battle. Especially a battle that he started.
He would be more scared than anything, and he would also blame himself for putting you in this situation. He just wants you safe, and it’s not fair that you ended up like this because of him.  
He would probably scold you and warn you not to take things too far again (“your body can’t take much more of this y/n-ya. You know better”)
But he doesn’t want to lose you. That thought is the scariest thing in the world for him. He can’t live without you. 
And the fear of losing you comes out in the form of anger. But his fear will quickly extinguish, and he will quickly become the soft, loving man you know in secret. 
He’ll pick you up and shambles you both away to safety, where you are priority number one. He cares to your wounds and caters to anything you possibly need (even if he does fake-grumble about it, he really does love it)
In the future, he promises himself that he will do better and he will never put you in a position like that again. 
Sanji
Sanji didn’t even want you to fight. He’s angry that you put yourself in harm's way. Someone should’ve been there to protect you. He should’ve been there. 
Not that you can’t handle yourself. He trusts you to get the job done. He’s just mad at himself for leaving you in the first place and putting you in a situation where you had to fight. 
When he whispers your name and coos in your ear, promising you that you’ll be okay.
He calls for Chopper and he wipes your hair out of your face. He doesn’t want to move you in case he ends up hurting you further. He’s trying his best to stay calm. 
He wants to panic, and every bone in his body is screaming in agony seeing you like this, but he doesn’t want you to panic, so he tries his best to act normal (he's not super great at it tbh he is so obviously scared for you)
He keeps saying stupid things like “no no don’t talk, save your strength” or “you look so beautiful everything is going to be okay” and you have to remind him that everything WILL be okay. You’re not dying, you're just tired. 
While you're recovering he makes so. much. food. You have to pawn some off to Luffy when Sanji isn’t looking because there’s no way you can eat so much. 
Luffy
Luffy would be proud. SO so proud. 
Covering you in kisses and cheering and showing you off to the world proud. 
He trusts you to handle whatever battle you’re in. And he knows you’ll hold up your part of the deal. You’ve never let him down before. 
He keeps you close though. He takes a post-battle nap with you, intertwined with your body. 
He feels safe with you next to him like that. He swears your body has magical healing properties, because he always wakes up 200% better after sleeping next to you (you feel better too, though you can’t explain why).
He keeps you next to him through the feast and the party, and he examines your new cuts, bruises, and scars. He only admires them, which helps you feel a little less insecure about them. 
Sometimes you all have matching cuts or bruises, to which Luffy celebrates with another round of booze and another plate of meat. 
Zoro
Zoro is also insanely proud of you. 
He never doubted you, but he knew it would be a hard battle. It was for everyone. But of course you got it finished. You were a person of your word and you would do what you said. 
He tries to be casual about it. He won’t admit that he was a little worried about how you would end up, but he’s so relieved to find you mostly okay. 
He doesn’t admit how his pace quickened when he saw you crumpled on the ground. How just for a moment, he found himself considering a quick prayer to some random god to make sure you were okay. 
But you were just tired. And he knows how to fix that. He gently picks you up and carries you back to safety. 
He lets you sleep while he runs his fingers through your hair and across your skin, so so thankful that all you need is a little nap to be okay. 
And to be honest, he could use a nap too. He’ll blame you for needing a nap, but he always sleeps easier with you around, especially after a battle.
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andvys · 2 months
Text
Dancing with our hands tied | S.H.
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Chapter fourteen ⭐︎ Somewhere in these eyes, I'm on your side.
Warnings: fluff, lots and lots fluff, just a teeny tiny bit of angst, just a bunch of tooth rooting sweetness
Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader
Summary: On a rainy Thursday, something shifts between you and Steve, something you can not see yet, while Steve gets lost in a glimpse of the future he could feel on this day.
Word count: 9k+
Author's note: @hellfire--cult thank you for helping me as always, roe. especially with the last bit, you're the bestest ♡ Steve's shower scene was fully written by her so give her some loveeee
Series Masterlist ⭐︎ Previous Chapter ⭐︎ Next Chapter
The rain paddles against your windows softly, the sun is hidden behind the heavy dark clouds, and the light wind rustles the trees outside. You didn’t close the blinds last night, but it doesn’t matter anyways, it’s dark and gloomy outside. 
The soft covers touch your bare skin, the smell of cologne is heavy in the air, along with the smell of sex that still lingers after the previous night. 
The weight of his arm keeps you in place, keeps you close, he is making your heart flutter in this early morning hour already. 
He is facing you, just as you are facing him. His palm rests on your lower back, his legs tangled with yours underneath the sheets. He pulls you closer when you try to move, tightening his hold on you, but he is still so fast asleep. His lashes look so much longer when his eyes are closed, his features are completely relaxed, he is breathing softly, his heart beats against your palm as you keep your hand close to it. 
You eye the moles on his skin and the scars on his body. 
Your hands always itch to touch him, to graze his skin with the tips of your fingers, and you can do so when he’s fast asleep and unaware of your loving touches. 
You raise your hand up to his face, pushing away the curl that hangs loosely over his forehead. Your touch is light as a feather as you trace the bridge of his nose, and his cheek, before you return your hand back to his chest, freezing when a sigh falls from his lips and he stirs in his sleep, pulling you tighter against him in the process before he sinks deeper into the pillows, eyes still shut and heart still beating softly. 
You breathe out and relax when he continues sleeping deeply. 
You don’t want to get caught admiring him, and touching him like this, when only a few days ago, you feared that you would lose him after Eddie confronted you both. 
You cried yourself to sleep that night. 
His words cut deep, and the fear of losing him added to the hurt. You weren’t ready to lose this, you weren’t ready to lose him, and you thought that you were so very close to it until he showed up the next morning, and asked if things would stay the same between you and him now that someone found out.
The weight that stayed on your shoulders nearly crushed you, but he took it off you, and without realizing that he did, he took some of your worries too, just not the pain, and the mark he left on your heart with a few simple words. But it didn’t matter, because kissing him and feeling his touch again, was all that mattered, to know that it wasn’t over just yet… that mattered. 
You can hide the sadness and the pain when he holds you like this, you can even forget about it… momentarily. 
You forgot about it last night, when he kissed your neck and he marked your skin, when he unraveled you with his tongue and the touch of his hands, when he split you open and kissed you like you were his, when he looked into your eyes and he held your wrist as the tips of his fingers touched your palm, like he wanted to entwine them with yours and feel you closer and closer as you were chest to chest and his lips moved with yours like none have ever did before. 
Shivers run down your spine, and butterflies dance in your stomach when the sound of his voice calling out your name echoes in your mind. 
You might not be the one for him. And you know that there might be others, but you don’t even want to let your mind go there, just the mere thought of it, fills you with nausea. He keeps coming back to you, that’s what matters the most to you. You know that you can give him so much more than anyone else ever could. If only he let you. If only there was a chance. 
You nearly jump from the bed when the ringing of the doorbell pulls you out of your thoughts, and it echoes through the quiet house. 
Your eyes widen, and your heart starts pounding as panic settles deep in your chest. You stare at Steve, who is peacefully asleep, still. 
You flinch at the second ringing. 
“Fuck,” you whisper when you remember the burgundy car in your driveway. There is no reason for Steve to be at your place so early in the morning. There is no believable explanation either, what will you say to whoever it is on the other side of the door?
If this is one of your friends, you are screwed, so screwed. 
You know, as a matter of fact, that it isn’t Eddie – he wouldn’t show up this early unless it was an emergency, and even then, he’d be in your room by now. 
“Steve,” you whisper, trying to shake him awake, but he only grumbles in his sleep and hides his face further into the pillows. 
You sigh. 
You push his arm off and escape his embrace. You throw the covers off, and jump up from your bed, standing in only your underwear for a moment as you search for your clothes, you reach for his shirt instead and throw it on, before you rush out of the room, trying to fix your messy hair as you run down the stairs. 
You don’t have much time to come up with lies and excuses as to why Steve’s car is in your driveway, whoever it is on the other side of the door, is getting a little impatient. 
“I’m coming,” you grumble and unlock the front door before you rip it open, holding your breath. 
“Finally!” 
You sigh out in relief, rolling your eyes at your own panic. You step aside and open the door a little wider. 
“What took you so long?” Your sister murmurs as she steps inside and brushes past you. She is carrying a bag in one hand and the bright pink baby carrier your baby niece is currently sleeping in. 
All your annoyance leaves your body right this second, your eyes soften and a smile appears on your face. 
“Hello to you too, Twinkie.” 
She rolls her eyes at your nickname but pulls you in for a side hug after dropping the bag on the ground. 
“Give me her,” you smile as you take the carrier from her arm, and carry it into the living room, smiling as you eye the little features of the baby girl. You put the carrier down on the couch. “Hi Francine,” you whisper, gently tapping her tiny nose. “She’s so big already!” 
Your sister laughs as she follows you into the living room after kicking off her shoes, “you’ve seen her last week, I don’t think she grew much.” 
“She kind of did,” you whisper, taking Francine’s tiny hand. “They grow so fast.”
Your sister walks over to the window, peeking outside, she clears her throat, “do I wanna know whose car that is?” 
You glance over your shoulder and swallow nervously. 
You’re glad that her memory is awful. 
Everyone knows who is driving the burgundy BMW, and your sister still lived in Hawkins when he got it. She should know who it belongs to.
Her lips curl into a smirk, and she wiggles her brows, “casual hook up, or… is it something serious?” 
You know that she has been waiting for this day. 
It is something serious, to you. 
It is something serious when he holds you closely and kisses you softly, when his eyes soften and his lips curl into a smile at the sight of you. 
It is something serious when your heart flutters every time his knuckles brush against yours. 
It is something serious when you fall asleep in his arms and wake up in the very same spot. 
It is something serious when you keep falling and falling with no end in sight. 
Will you ever stop falling in love with him? 
Will there ever be a moment where your feelings and your love will stop at one level, or will you continue falling harder every passing moment? 
Your sister raises her eyebrows, lips curling into an even bigger smile, when she notices the flustered look on your face, the dreamy look in your eyes. 
“Something serious, huh?” 
You blink. 
Staring at her, with your cheeks now feeling warm… way too warm, you shake your head quickly. 
“N-No.” 
You curse inwardly, for giving yourself away so easily with your stuttering and your blushing. That’s not how you ever reacted before when she mentioned any of your hookups. 
She grins at you, wiggling her eyebrows, “mhm sure, Daisy.” 
You roll your eyes at her teasing glances, but the nickname makes you smile. 
Out of all the flowers, your mom loved Daisies the most, she would put the dainty flowers in your braids, and behind your ear whenever you were out in the garden. You would pick them for her and make little bouquets to surprise her with. 
She always called you her little Daisy. 
Your sister picked up on that nickname, though she used it to mock you at first when she went through a weird phase of hating flowers – which is really ironic considering the flower shop she ended up working at when she moved to the city.
She could’ve given you another nickname, something silly – something like the name you gave to her, but she spared you, luckily. 
“Shut up, Twinkie,” you mumble, as you look back at your niece, who is beginning to stir in her sleep, her long lashes fluttering as small noises escape her mouth. “As happy as I am to see this little bean, why are you here at uh,” you pause, turning your head to look at the clock on the wall, “ten in the morning?” You ask. 
She makes her way over to you, a sweet smile appearing on her face, as she gives you her best puppy eyes. 
“I was hoping that you could look after Francine?” She asks, still smiling. “Lisa is getting married soon, and she asked me to go wedding dress shopping with her, I can’t take her, we’ll probably be out all day, and I can’t wait for Ethan to get home, his shift won’t end before–”
“It’s fine, I’ll look after her,” you interrupt her, despite the slight nervousness that rises up in you. 
You have no experience with babies at all, you have given her the bottle, you even changed her diaper, but your sister was around, and you didn’t spend the whole day alone with her. 
She sighs in relief, she puts her hand on your shoulder, “oh thank you!”
“Don’t mention it, I’d never say no to hanging out with my favorite girl.” 
“You need to spend more time with her anyways, you coming once a week isn’t enough!” 
You frown at your sister, “you’re the one who moved away!” 
She waves her hand at you, walking around the couch, she walks over to the carrier, “she always does that little scrunch with her nose before she wakes up.” 
You smile, watching as she leans in to place a gentle kiss to her daughter’s cheek. 
“Okay,” she whispers, pulling back to look at you, “I put everything into the bag, diapers, bottles, formula, a change of clothes in case her diapers leak, and uh… pacifiers. And uh, you know if she cries just lie down with her and put her on your chest, she loves cuddles.” 
You nod, “yeah, I know, I haven’t forgotten. I got this.”
“Yeah you do, Daisy. And if you need help, just call Eddie–”
“Are you kidding?” You laugh, shaking your head as amusement flashes in your eyes. 
Eddie and Max were there, the last time your sister showed up with her husband and little Francine. 
While the redhead was rather excited to hold the little girl, Eddie felt too afraid to even touch her, and he nearly gagged when Max chased him with a dirty diaper. 
“He looked at her like he was scared of her!” 
Your sister laughs, “yeah, right. Okay, so not Eddie then, I’m sure Max would love to help though, or maybe someone else – but I’ll get going now, I promise, I’ll make it up to you, you got this, Daisy.” She smiles, ruffling your hair, she leans down to look at her daughter one more time, “bye bug, I’ll see you soon,” she whispers and squeezes her tiny foot before she steps away. “Okay, I’ll see you later.”
“Yeah, see you later, Twinkie.” 
The moment the front door is slammed shut, you let out a long sigh, and throw your head back against the pillows on your couch. You bring your hand up to your face and pinch the bridge of your nose. 
You are still tired, and it seems as though Steve is still sleeping soundly. 
You want nothing more than to return back to bed and sink into your pillows again. 
You definitely won’t get any sleep now, but you still get up and slowly lift the baby carrier, hoping that the movement won’t wake her up. You try to be careful as you make your way out of the living room and up the stairs. 
When you walk into your room, you find Steve now laying on his stomach, his face buried in your pillow. The sheets are low on his body, his whole back is exposed. 
The tiny cooing sounds from inside the carrier, cause your lips to curl into a big smile. You place it down on your carpet, and kneel down, giggling when you’re met by her big eyes. She starts wiggling around when she sees you. 
“Hi little angel,” you whisper, and lean closer to unfasten the safety belts, before you lift her up from the carrier, placing your right hand behind her head, you pull her into your chest, her hand instantly reaches for your hair, clasping her tiny fingers around it, she makes you laugh when she starts pulling it, making happy noises while she does so. 
You sit down on your bed, and lift your legs up, scooting back until you’re resting against the pillows behind you. You pull the covers over your lower body. 
A small squeal leaves her mouth.
“Shh, someone’s sleeping,” you whisper, tapping her little nose, glancing at Steve who is starting to stir in his sleep. 
You place her on your lap, and giggle at the cuteness as she stretches her little legs out. “That’s a cute onesie,” you whisper, rubbing her belly, “I bet you picked that yourself didn’t you? Pink is a pretty color on you, princess.” 
She babbles and wiggles around as she stares at you with her big eyes. 
Your voice, and the small coos pull Steve out of his deep sleep, his mind is still in a haze, his eyes still closed. 
“Da da da.” 
Your giggle follows the tiny voice. 
Steve scrunches his brows together, gripping the pillow underneath him, he slowly opens his eyes and looks at your side of the bed, his lips part and his eyes widen completely, something in his chest stirs strongly as he stares at the sight in front of him. 
He is still sleeping. 
He is still dreaming. 
A smile is resting on your face, eyes lightened up as you entertain the little baby girl on your lap, a pink bow around her head, big eyes resembling your own as she stares at you with a smile on her face, her hair color is the same as yours. 
Steve swallows the lump that grew in his throat, warmth settles in his chest, surrounding his heart and filling it with something, with adoration. 
His eyes soften when you lean down to kiss her forehead, squishing her tiny cheeks. 
“You’re the prettiest girl, Francis,” you whisper, using her nickname. 
His lips curl into a smile, despite the confusion that still lingers in his features. 
This is surely one of his dreams, he is convinced of it, why else would he wake up beside you, and a baby who looks like you?
But when you turn to face him, and the little girl follows your movement, looking at him with wide eyes, he isn’t so sure anymore. 
He blinks, watching as you reach for Francis’s little arm, waving her tiny hand at him, “say hi Steve.” 
The little girl babbles even louder, making a grabby hand at him. 
Steve smiles at her, raising his hand up, he waves at her.
You can’t help but laugh at the lost and confused look on his face, his brows are pulled together, his lips parted as he looks between you and your niece. 
He turns around on his back, and pushes himself so he’s leaning against your headboard, adjusting the cover, he pulls it up higher. He looks around the room, before his eyes return to the two of you, he runs his fingers through his messy hair, eyes flickering back and forth.
Your lips tug into a smirk, you can tell that he doesn’t understand a thing right now. 
You look at him, as you pull your niece closer, holding her up, you press her against your chest, “can you believe that we made a baby overnight?” 
You almost burst into laughter when his brown eyes widened with pure shock, and he choked a little. 
He blinks, shaking his head, “I know I just woke up, and I’m still sleepy… but… I still kind of remember biology.” 
Francine makes another grabby hand at him, “ma ma.”
“I dunno, but I’m pretty sure she just called you mama.”
Steve’s cheeks heat up, and he turns away from you, looking around your room again before his eyes catch the picture on your nightstand, the one of you and your sister. Oh. 
“Ah… Your niece,” Steve murmurs as he looks back at the two of you. 
“Good morning, Harrington,” you giggle. Francine copies your giggle, and Steve can’t help but smile. “Oh you like that name, huh? It’s funny isn’t it? Harrington.” Her little eyes crinkle, and she starts babbling with a laugh. Steve keeps her eyes on her, smiling at the little girl.
“That’s Francine,” you smile, introducing your niece to him. 
Steve lifts his hand up, waving his fingers at her, “hi Francine, I’m Steve.” 
She squirms in your arms, making happy noises as she blinks at him. Steve chuckles, he scoots closer to you, and he lifts his hand, and touches her tiny one. Francine wraps her hand around his finger, gripping it tightly, making his smile even bigger. 
“Is your sister here?” He asks, without looking away from the little girl. 
You shake your head, “no, she asked me to babysit today. So uh… I’ll be busy with my girl here today.” 
The urge to stay here with you, and this cute little mini you, feels so strong. 
“Want me to help?” Steve asks. 
You’re a little stunned by his question, and can only stare in surprise. 
“Huh?” 
“I mean, I don’t mind staying to help,” Steve shrugs, glancing at you for a second before he gives his attention back to Francine, who stares at him in awe.
The thought of spending a whole day with Steve, taking care of a baby with him, sounds like heaven. 
The only reason why he’s ever even around you without the group is because of sex, and that only. You don’t meet up just to watch movies, cook together or anything else, you only meet up for one thing, that’s all. 
The fact that he is willing to just spend time with you, without expecting anything to happen baffles you a little. 
“I-I… Do you really want to stay?” 
He nods. 
“Not much of a choice, to be honest,” he murmurs with a fond smile on his face as he gestures to your niece who is still holding his finger tightly. 
“O-Okay,” you whisper, shakily as nervousness and excitement rise up in you. 
“She’s so adorable,” Steve whispers, chuckling when Francine babbles at him, “she looks like you.” 
You smile before you realize what he just said, and heat rushes to your cheeks. 
She’s so adorable, she looks like you.
“I-I uh,” you stutter, trying to keep your cool, “so you’re gonna stay then?”
“Yeah, I’d love to hang out with Blondie and mini Blondie over here,” he chuckles as he taps her nose. 
Your heart could burst right then and there, your cheeks feeling incredibly hot the longer you sit here and stare at him. 
“Cool,” you say with a small voice as you suddenly feel the need to escape for a moment, “would you mind looking after her for a moment then? I wanna take a quick shower or else I’ll walk around looking like a bum all day.” 
Steve turns to look at you, he takes in the sight of your messy hair, and the shirt on your body, only now noticing that it’s his. His insides tingle, and his lips curl into a smile. 
You look like a cute bum. He almost blurts out, but bites his tongue. 
“Sure, go ahead, me and Francine are just gonna hang out, right?” 
She squeals in response, making jumpy movements. 
You both laugh at her. 
You lay her down beside him, and tickle her belly, giggling when she starts kicking her feet, “alright, I’ll be right back, angel.” 
Steve doesn’t even notice how big his smile is, how soft his eyes are as he stares at you, how warm the feeling in his chest is. 
“She might roll over on her belly, and if she gets a little fuzzy just pick her up, she loves snuggles. I’m gonna be quick.” 
Steve scoots closer to Francine, leaning his elbow on the pillow, he rests his head against his palm, and glances at you, “it’s fine, take your time, I’m just gonna chat with her.” 
Francine is still kicking her feet and waving around with her little arms.
“Oh yeah, she’s very talkative,” you giggle, and get up from the bed, you walk over to your dresser and pick out some clothes to change into. As much as you would love to wear his shirt all day, he needs it himself – although, you wouldn’t mind him walking around shirtless. 
Once you get everything you need, you turn back to take a look at them, and you nearly melt into a puddle when you see the way she is still clutching his finger, kicking her legs and babbling something to him, while he watches her with a smile on his face. 
“O-Okay, I’ll be right back.” 
You leave the room in a haste, but Steve doesn’t even notice, too busy staring at little Francine. He adores the resemblance of you, and the color of her eyes that matches yours, she truly looks like you. 
Steve can’t remember the last time he saw or even held a baby, he’s not sure if he ever even held one. He was ten when one of his cousins was born, but he didn’t care to hold him back then. 
Francine keeps making a grabby hand at him, while she tugs at his finger, starting to get fuzzy after a few minutes pass without your presence in the room. 
He sits up straighter and pulls the blanket up higher, he reaches for one of your throw pillows and places it on his lap. 
“Alright Francine,” Steve whispers, he takes a deep breath and furrows his brows in concentration as he carefully lifts her up, supporting her head with his palm, he pulls her closer and lays her down on the soft pillow. 
She coos and starts blowing bubbles, making Steve laugh. 
“Oh, you’re so adorable,” he smiles, pulling her a little closer, “did you pick that bow today?” He asks, eying the headband around her little head. 
She makes a few grunting noises, though looking at him with a happy look on her face. 
“Your auntie loves those bows too, she puts some in her ponytails sometimes,” Steve says, talking to her as though he will get more than just a few babbles from her. “I bet you’re gonna steal them from her someday–”
Prrrrrrrrrrrrrrt
Steve’s face pales at the sound, his eyes widen. 
The noise that came from her diapers sounded more than just air. 
“Oh fuck,” he mumbles before his eyes widen further at the curse word that just left his lips, “I shouldn’t have said that, shit– I mean, I’m sorry, please forget what I just said,” he rambles, as though she understood a single thing that he said. 
Francine babbles, kicking her feet into his stomach with a happy squeal. 
“Um,” he panics, looking around the room, “Blondie!?”
“What Steve!?” You call from the bathroom, “it’s been five minutes!” 
“I uh–” He mumbles, scratching the back of his neck as he furrows his brows, “code red…?” 
You nearly laugh at his choice of words, you only ever used code red in the upside down, for the real emergencies. 
You can already guess what happened, and it only makes your amusement grow bigger. You quickly put your clothes on, and brush your hair before you make your way out of the bathroom and back to them. 
“Okay, I’m here,” you announce, placing his shirt that you stole earlier on your bed, you walk over to his side, and take a seat beside him, “that was the quickest shower of my life.” 
He gets a whiff of your vanilla body wash, of the mint from your toothpaste, and the smell of perfume that lingers in your hair, making his chest flutter. 
“She uh– I think she needs a diaper change.” 
“Oh,” you laugh, “that’s what you’re panicking about?” 
Steve glares at you.
“You wanted to help,” you shrug as you get up again, making your way out of the room again to get the bag with Francine’s stuff. “You gotta learn how to change diapers, Harrington!” 
Steve huffs nervously, “no big deal right?” He whispers to Francine. 
“Da da da.” 
“Yeah,” Steve laughs, “right.”
You come back into the room, and put the bag on the ground, picking out new diapers, wet wipes, baby powder and the spare onesie, along with the thin baby towel that you spread out on your mattress. 
“Alright, Lego head,” you raise your eyebrows at him, “do you wanna practice for your future nuggets or are you scared of baby poop?” 
He snorts, shaking his head at you.
“No, I’m not scared of baby poop.” 
You walk over to them both and lean down before him, you pick Francine up, and scrunch your face up, “yeah, you really need a diaper change, angel.”
Steve watches as you carry her over to the other side, placing her down on the towel you spread out. You undo the buttons of her onesie, smiling at the little girl. 
“Well, come on,” you giggle at him, “it’s an experience you gotta make, Steve.” 
Steve takes a deep breath, he throws the pillow off his lap and removes the cover. He gets up from the bed, standing there in his boxers for a moment, until his eyes find the sweatpants he discarded last night, he quickly throws them on, along with the shirt you wore earlier. 
“Alright,” he murmurs, running his fingers through his hair, he walks up beside you, “just tell me what to do.” 
You chuckle at his nervousness, you place your hand on his shoulder, “don’t worry, if Max was able to do it, you can do it too.” 
A breathy laugh falls from his lips. 
You guide him, giving him a little step by step of what to do. 
You watch the way his brows knit together, and the way he is nodding to himself as he follows your words. 
He doesn’t even look disgusted when the smell hits him, he only chuckles at the way Francine continues babbling happily. 
“She’s a happy baby, isn’t she?” 
You nod, smiling down at your niece, “yes she is.”
You hand him the new diapers and the baby powder, before you put the used wipes into the dirty diaper, roll it up carefully and throw it into the trash in your bathroom before you return to your room. 
“How old is she?” 
“She’s gonna be three months old tomorrow,” you say, smiling as you step up beside him again. 
Steve raises his eyebrows at Francine, “oh, you’re gonna be a big girl tomorrow?” He jokes as he tickles her belly, making her laugh. 
The smile on your face widens, the feeling in your chest growing stronger and brighter. 
Her small giggles, and the fond smile that rests in his tired features spark something deep inside of you, a warming and comforting feeling appears as you watch him take care of her with careful and slow movements. 
“Is that okay?” He asks you, gesturing to the diapers he put on her, “or is it too tight?”
You lean closer to him and check the pressure, “no, that’s perfect, Steve.”
“It is?” He asks, surprised. 
You nod, and start to put her onesie back on, “yeah, I don’t even know what you panicked about, you’ve done a better job than me, I didn’t know what I was doing the first time,” you laugh. “You did good, Lego head.” 
A dimpled grin appears on his face, despite the redness in his cheeks. 
“I-I think caring for a bunch of kids that turned into teens turned me into a natural, even babies. I mean, Dustin counts as a baby, doesn’t he?” He jokes, watching the way your eyes crinkle and your lips spread before you burst into giggles. 
Francine watches you with big eyes before she copies your giggles like before. 
Steve’s eyes light up, as he watches you both. 
The warmth in his chest spreads, as happiness rises up in him. 
After adjusting her clothes and the bow on her head, you pick her up into your arms, leaning down to kiss her cheek. 
You don’t even notice just how soft the look in his eyes, how the ghost of a smile now lingers on his lips, as he stares at the both of you in awe, watching the way Francine buries her face in the crook of your neck, and you keep a gentle hand on the back of her head. 
“Do you want some breakfast? I can make you something after I give this princess her bottle, I think she’s getting tired again.”
Steve’s heart thumps strongly in his chest, he can’t deny the emotions of adoration in him as he looks at you with the baby on your arm. 
“I can make you a breakfast sandwich or anything else you want.” 
Steve blinks. 
“Uh, you don’t have to make anything for me, Blondie. I can make you something though.”
You shake your head, “no, you’re my guest, I’ll make you breakfast, and you can feed her if you want.” 
“Okay,” he says with a sigh, nodding his head, “I’ll make you lunch or dinner though.”
“Oh, are you gonna woo me with your cooking skills now?” You giggle. 
He looks down with a smile, “I promised I would, didn’t I?” 
“Yeah, you did.” 
Francine clasps her fingers around your hair again, pulling it stronger than before, making you wince a little. 
“Okay, okay, someone’s getting a little grumpy now. I’m gonna go make her the bottle.” 
“I’ll be right there with you, I’m just gonna go brush my teeth real quick,” Steve gestures to your bathroom, “do you need me to carry the bag down?”
“No, it’s fine, it’s not heavy,” you say as you step towards him, “but can you help me put it on my shoulder?”
“Yeah, of course.”
He grabs the bag and steps towards you, putting the strap around your shoulder. His eyes soften yet again, when he sees you looking down at your niece, smiling as she blinks at you with her big eyes. 
Steve doesn’t even notice that his hand still lingers on your shoulder, or that he’s rubbing your back, he is too in awe of the two of you, and that feeling stays with him, even when you leave the room and go downstairs, even when he goes into the bathroom to brush his teeth and wash his face, he stares at his reflection in the mirror, and he can’t even unsee the happiness and the relaxation in his features, but he decides to pay no mind to it. 
When he joins you downstairs, he finds you in the kitchen, finishing up on Francine’s bottle, you’re shaking it, while whispering something to her as you’re still holding her in your arm, still. 
Steve doesn’t know what it is, but the sight before him, makes him freeze in his spot. 
As you stand there in your kitchen, with a smile on your lips, and a look of adoration in your eyes, you’re cooing at your niece, giggling every time she babbles something at you, he realizes something. 
You are comfortable, right now. 
You’re in your home, away from the eyes of strangers, hidden from the world that you have only shown one side of yourself to, your walls are down, you are just yourself, and there is no shame behind your eyes, because all your attention goes to someone you adore and love, and don’t feel the need to hide from. 
Your eyes shine brightly, your features are relaxed in a way they have never been before, and your smile is so genuine, so real. 
You’re talking to her with a small and gentle voice, you hold her tightly against your chest – and you… god you look so beautiful like this. 
You look so beautiful with a baby in your arms. 
Warmth spreads across his whole body, he likes the sight in front of him, he likes it so much that it should scare him, but it doesn’t. 
“There he is, Francis,” you smile, glancing at Steve, you don’t even notice how frozen in place he is, how heaven struck he looks, “are you ready to give her the bottle?” 
Steve blinks, snapping out of his mind, he nods at you with a blush on his cheeks. 
You brush past him, and gesture for him to follow you into the living room, after you grab the cloth from the counter. 
You place the bottle on the coffee table, and wait for him to take a seat on the couch. 
“Alright, you gotta tell me what to do,” Steve says nervously, as he sits down, “I’ve never done this before.” 
“Don’t be nervous, you got this,” you assure him. 
You step between his legs, and lean down to place Francine into his arms. 
Without needing to be told, he cradles the back of her head, as he gently pulls her into his arms, a smile spreading on his lips when her big eyes look into his. 
“Okay,” you whisper and put the cloth under her chin, adjusting it over her clothes in case a little accident might happen. 
“Am I holding her correctly?” Steve asks, looking up at you. 
The side of her face is nuzzled into his chest, the back of her head resting in the crook of his arm. You didn’t even need to guide him, he truly is a natural. 
“Yeah,” you smile, “you’re doing great.”
You hand him the bottle, and sit down beside him. 
“Did you test the temperature?” Steve asks, and you almost want to laugh at his question. 
“Yeah Steve, I did.” 
He nods at you. 
With a chuckle, you pull your feet up onto the sofa and sit on your knees, turning your body towards them. 
“Okay, now gently place the teat into her mouth and slowly tilt the bottle, she will do the rest.” 
He furrows his brows, poking his tongue through his lips, he focuses on your niece as he follows your words. 
You watch him closely, how soft and concentrated his eyes are, how careful his movements are, how small she looks in his arms, how sweet the sight of them is. 
Francine raises her little arm, and places her tiny hand on the bottle as she starts sucking on the teat, small noises falling from her. 
“Oh my god,” Steve whispers, the biggest smile you have ever seen, now glowing in his features as he looks at her in awe, “she’s the cutest little bean.” 
“Yeah, she is,” you smile and tilt your head as you watch them, the fluttering feeling in your chest sparking.
Her eyelashes flutter, her big eyes still staring into his. 
“I’m gonna cry, Blondie,” Steve murmurs, adoring the little human in his arms. “She's so tiny and adorable.” 
You move closer and reach for the corner of the cloth, wiping away the bit of milk that rolls down her chin. 
“You’re gonna have one of those someday too.”
Steve smiles at your words, nodding as he whispers “hopefully.” 
But he doesn’t notice the way your own smile falls, the way your eyes sadden for a moment, the way you look down and blink away the feelings you don’t want him to see. And he doesn’t realize how quiet you get, he is too distracted by Francine and the thoughts in his head, the pictures of a future he longs for so badly. 
Only when the bottle is empty and he removes it, does he turn back to you, but still too blinded by his mind to see the look in your eyes. You take the bottle from his hand, and place it back on the coffee table. 
“You gotta hold her against your chest now,” you tell him and remove the cloth from her body, you place it on his chest instead, “and gently pat her back so she can burp.” 
You guide him again, helping him hold her correctly as he places her against his chest, he puts his hand on her back, and starts patting gently. 
“Is that good?”
“Yeah,” you whisper and scoot closer to him, you reach for her tiny hand, caressing it as you watch her with a smile on your face, “she’s tired.” 
“Yeah, pooping must’ve been really exhausting,” Steve jokes, making you giggle. 
“Yeah, totally–”
A loud burp falls from her mouth. 
“Oh that was a big one,” Steve chuckles as he stops patting her, “you did good, bug.”
“She didn’t even spit, she usually does a little, wow you really do have magical hands,” you chuckle, and remove the cloth from his shoulder. 
“Told you, I’m a natural,” he smiles proudly. 
You roll your eyes playfully. 
“Do you want me to take her now?” You ask. 
He shakes his head at you, “can I hold her for a while?” 
Confusion flashes in your eyes. You know how badly he needs his coffee in the mornings, it’s one of the first things he does after he wakes up, going into the kitchen to brew his beloved morning coffee. He didn’t even take a single sip yet, but he doesn’t seem to mind, he is too in awe of the baby on his chest. 
Realization replaces the look in your eyes – he is entering a baby fever trance, with your niece nonetheless. It makes your smile reappear, that’s how you feel too, every time you get to spend time with her. 
“Of course,” you whisper, as your gaze softens. 
Francine’s eyelashes flutter, her blinking getting slower and lesser. 
“She’s gonna pass out though, you should sit back a little so she can lay on you.” 
He nods at your words, placing one hand on her back and the other under her bum, he lays back slowly, his lips twitching into a small smile when he sees her already falling asleep. She scrunches up her nose as she nuzzles her face into his chest, making you both laugh when she suddenly throws her hand up, managing to catch onto a strand of his hair. 
She wiggles around for a moment, before her eyes start falling shut. 
“And she’s out,” Steve whispers, chuckling to himself. “I wish I could fall asleep this fast.” 
“Yeah, me too.”
Her cheek is squished against him, she’s breathing softly now, her hand falling from his hair and onto his shoulder, her little headband beginning to slip off. 
You reach out to take it off her head slowly, and lean in to place a soft kiss on her forehead, unaware of the fond smile on Steve’s lips, or the feelings that rush through him because of you. 
“I’m gonna go make some coffee and breakfast now,” you mumble as you pull away, and get up from the couch, grabbing the bottle and the cloth. 
Steve’s eyes follow you as you walk over to the TV stand, and grab the remote, handing it to him, “you can watch something if you want, it won’t disturb her, she’s a heavy sleeper.”
“I’m good, I’ll watch her for now,” he whispers. 
“Okay, I’ll be right back,” you say, and give him a smile before you leave the room. 
A genuine smile. 
You smiled at him before, countless of times actually, but he could never tell what was real and what wasn’t, what was genuine and what was forced or just sarcastic. But this, this was a real smile, and there was no second meaning behind it. You just smiled at him, naturally. It makes him feel… happy, and as he looks down at the little girl that has your features, he realizes something. 
The feeling in his chest was never for nothing, it was never false or misleading. 
It was just as real as the smile you blessed him with. 
Suddenly, everything before him doesn't seem as dull and colorless as it did all these past months and even years, something sparks before his eyes and he can see again, he can feel something besides the never ending gnawing in his chest and the restlessness in his bones, the fears that nestled deep into his soul. He finally sees something other than the darkened clouds and the red lights that keep flashing before his eyes. 
A light that keeps peeking through every once in a while is on the verge of breaking through, making the walls around him rattle as the foundation starts to crumble, one brick at a time starts falling into an abyss. 
A future lays before his eyes, calling out to him and waiting to be grasped, an echo, a whisper, a glimpse of what could be if things were only different. 
For the rest of the day, Steve feels as though he had fallen into a pleasant dream, a world where it’s only you and him, a little girl that made him realize just how badly he wants to have a family of his own – he already knew that he wanted it, but he pictured the wrong person by his side, a person he no longer even wanted. 
He was blinded by old feelings, and the wish to have something real again, when it never even was to begin with. 
The feelings that are sparking in him now, feel so different from anything that he had ever felt before, and he only opens his eyes to them more and more as the day passes, and he sees a side of you that he had never seen before. 
He sees with how much love and gentleness you treat your niece, he sees the way your eyes hold nothing but adoration for the girl that you would do anything for. 
He hears how soft your voice can get. 
He feels how soft your touch can be when you once again hand her to him. 
And his heart beats so strongly, so fastly in his chest when a giggle falls from your lips after Francine pouts when you take her away from him again, only to be forced to place her back into his arms when she almost starts crying. 
Steve adores her, and he adores you – a little more as every second of this day passes. 
The thing that pushes him nearer towards the finish line of realization, is this very moment in front of him. 
Your niece fell asleep on his chest yet again, you are sitting right next to him, with your head on his shoulder and your eyes glued on her, your finger tracing her little features. The urge to pull you closer and hold you feels so strong to the point that his fingers start itching. 
“I’m sorry I didn’t cook dinner for you,” he whispers. 
You look at him through your lashes, the corner of your lip twitching as your eyes flicker to his lips for a brief moment. 
The only light in the room now coming from the TV, the volume set on the lowest. The rain is still falling, even as the night nears. 
“It’s okay, Francis didn’t let you,” you giggle softly, not knowing that the sound makes his heart flutter. “Besides, the pizza was really good.” 
“Yeah, it was,” he whispers. 
He notices how tired you look, how the sleepiness is beginning to set into your features now too. 
“Look at her tiny nose,” you whisper as you look back at her, “and those little hands.”
Something in the way you hold her hand and whisper so adoringly about her, makes him long for you even more – but not in a way he had felt before, no, this is different, this is so very serious. 
Steve lifts his arm as a blush creeps up to his cheeks, he wraps his arm around you, and pulls you closer, “come here,” he whispers into your hair, “there’s space for two Blondies on my chest.”
He doesn’t know what kind of emotions he can trigger in you, with such simple words. 
He doesn’t know that you have been dying to feel this. 
You lay your head on his chest, and he can’t help but smile at the sigh that falls from your lips. You put your arm around Francine, and snuggle against him, and you stay like that, for a while at least, until Steve allows his feelings to take the lead. 
He adjusts the blanket over Francine before he pulls you even closer, and he buries his fingers in your hair, allowing himself to play with it like he only ever does when you’re fast asleep and unaware of his soft touches or the glances that fall upon your skin. 
He would feel joy if he knew about the emotions that linger inside of you. 
“You will be an amazing dad to your little nuggets someday, Steve,” you say in a whisper, it’s almost too quiet for him to hear, “and a good husband too.” 
The shakiness in your voice and the sadness goes by unnoticed by him, he is too stunned by your words. 
If he could see inside your head, he would know how much sadness there is, how the dark clouds always reside, how you don’t see a future for yourself because you know that he won’t be in it, and without him, what will you have? What will you be? A wilting rose, left behind to die. You are barely holding on now, but you are still here, because he is still keeping you alive. Your life is in his hands. 
Steve takes a deep breath, he opens his mouth to whisper to you, only to see you fast asleep now too, your cheek squished against his chest just like Francine’s is. 
He breathes out, lips curling into a smile as he stops playing with your hair. 
“You will be amazing too, Blondie,” he whispers. 
A girlfriend. A wife. A mother. 
Whatever you choose to be, whoever you will bless with your love, they are going to be so lucky to have you. 
And before he can even realize where his thoughts are taking him, a frown nestles into his features. The thought that he will become a memory to you, makes him feel uneasy. The thought that someone will step into your life, and take away what you both have, fills him with gray-ish sadness once again. The image of someone putting a ring on your finger and getting to be the one to lift the veil and kiss you on the altar openly, in front of everybody, and without needing to hide, spreads the darkness in him, yet again. 
He looks down at you, at the way you look so comfortable in his embrace, while your soft hand stays on the girl’s back, he admires you, and he feels no shame to do so, not even when he lifts his hand to brush your hair out of your face. 
But his time with you is cut short when the front door unlocks and opens, and footsteps echo in the hallway, a moment later. 
He turns his face away from you, when your sister steps into the living room, freezing in her steps when she sees him. 
Steve swallows the lump in his throat, giving her a tight lipped smile, he raises his hand to wave at her, “hi…”
She furrows her brows as she takes in the sight of you three, her lips pulling into a confused smile. She takes her denim jacket off and walks further into the room, her lips curling into a big smile when she takes a look at her girl. 
But then her eyes fall back on him, and suddenly, her lips part in surprise. 
“Hi…Oh– you, hang on,” she mumbles, tilting her head before her eyes widen, “Steve Harrington?”
Steve doesn’t know what to think of the look on her face, or the stunned tone in her voice. 
He met her before, at the hospital when she came to visit you, but he didn’t talk to her, and her reaction makes him wonder if you have mentioned him before. 
“Yeah… that’s uh… that’s me.”
The silence that follows is almost too loud, he can see the way she looks between you both, back and forth, as her brows stay furrowed. 
She points a finger between you both, “so uh… you’re her boyfriend?”
Steve hesitates, and he glances down at you, bitterness lays on his tongue when he utters the next words, “uh… no… no, I’m not.” Sadly, he thinks.
And when he registers the words that popped into his head out of nowhere, he suddenly wants nothing more than to escape this situation, fearing his own feelings again. 
“I-I should go now.” 
“Oh, you’re not staying another night?” She asks, a somewhat smug tone in her voice as she looks at you. 
He would love to, but it’s better to go now. It’s not safe to stay, not for his heart.
“No, I have to work tomorrow.”
“Ah,” she nods and walks over to the three of you, “I’ll take her now,” she whispers, and carefully picks her daughter up. The little girl stirs in her sleep, grunting quietly but not opening her eyes just yet. 
“She’s a heavy sleeper,” Steve chuckles as he watches the way Francine relaxes into her mother’s arms. 
“She really is,” your sister laughs, and walks over to the armchair, taking a seat before she looks back up at Steve, “kind of like Daisy when she’s relaxed,” she nudges her chin towards you. 
A smile appears on his face, and he looks down at you, his arm is still wrapped around you, and he already dreads the feeling of having to let you go. 
“Yeah,” he whispers, taking a long look at you, before he decides to get up. 
A sigh leaves his lips, and he slowly slips away from you, replacing his chest with a pillow for your head, his eyes soften when you scrunch your nose up just the way your niece did earlier. He adjusts the blanket over you, fighting the urge to leave a kiss on your forehead before he steps away. 
Your sister eyes him closely, watching how he treats you with so much care. 
When Steve steps away, and looks away from you, glancing at your sister, heat rushes to his cheeks when he sees the way she looks between you both, a smug look lingering in her eyes, a small but teasing smile on her face. 
He wants to run. 
“Okay uh,” he mumbles, scratching the back of his neck before he points his finger at the hallway, “I’m gonna go.” 
“Okay,” she nods, “thanks for helping with Francine.”
He waves his hand, a smile now reappearing on his face as he looks at the baby girl, already missing the feeling of holding her. 
“No need to thank me, I loved spending time with these two,” he chuckles, pointing between you and your niece. “But uh, I’m gonna head out.”
“Alright,” she smiles at him.
He takes one last look at you before he turns around and makes his way out of the living room, he puts his Nike’s on, and grabs the car keys he threw on the counter, last night. 
“Bye, Twinkie.”
“Bye…” She mumbles with furrowed brows, confused at the name he just called her by. 
The front door shuts quietly, yet loud enough to wake you up. With a flinch, you open your eyes, and look around the room, feeling a little disoriented. You look to your side, the empty spot beside you, making you frown. 
“Your boyfriend left,” your sister's voice sounds through the room. 
You turn to her, finding her in the armchair she always loved so much. A smug look is resting on her lips. 
“Shut up,” you mumble, glaring at her. 
She laughs at you, and leans back, getting comfortable in her seat. 
“Spill. Now.” 
-
The hot water rolls down Steve’s skin, the smell of shampoo surrounds him as he washes his hair. 
His eyes are closed, but a smile rests on his lips, as images of all the things that happened today replay in his mind. 
The fluttering in his chest hasn’t stopped at all, everything you did, everything you said, every single touch of yours has seemingly turned him into a hopeless teenager again – only, he isn’t one anymore, and the feelings inside of him, go much deeper than the ones of a seventeen year old boy. 
And no matter how much he tries to deny them, he just can’t, because it becomes less and less possible to pretend that they aren’t there.
Today, they shined through so brightly, when he saw how soft and gentle you could be, when he saw the sides of you that you never wanted to show. He saw something he never thought was even there. And it causes awful feelings to rise up in him, when he comes to the realization that all these years, you were only protecting yourself from the hurt in this world, and you did so by putting up a front and giving people the wrong pictures of yourself.
You were mean and rough to those you didn’t trust, and he was one of them, maybe he still is, but he saw you today. 
When you greeted him this morning, with your niece in your arms. 
When you kissed her little forehead, and held her in your sweet embrace. 
When you taught him to bottle feed her. 
When you admired her with him, and traced her little features with your finger and a loving smile on your face. 
When you told him how great of a husband he would be someday, and an amazing dad to his nuggets.
Wait… you said nuggets, plural. He never told you he wanted kids, so how did you know? How did you even know he would love to call his children that particular word? Was it intuition? Was it a coincidence? 
His eyebrows knit together with complete and utter confusion as the water just keeps running over his head, and the realization hits him like a ton of bricks. 
The RV. His conversation with Nancy. Him telling Nancy he wants to be someone’s husband and have six nuggets. Him pouring his desires out, thinking that everyone else in the vehicle was sound asleep.
But you weren’t.
Fuck, you weren’t asleep. You heard him. You heard him talking to Nancy, and you– you think that he wants those things with her still. He should clarify it, shouldn’t he? He wants to tell you that it was the dread of the world ending talking for him. He wants to explain himself to you–
Explain himself? Why? You probably wouldn’t care who he has kids with, or who he marries. You would simply give him a thumbs up and a confused look on your face. But– He feels his stomach contracting with nerves, nerves he knows all too well. He doesn’t need to explain anything to you. He doesn’t need to clarify anything. 
But, he doesn’t want you to think he wants that family with Nancy Wheeler.
He really doesn’t.
And he is terrified that he doesn’t want you to misunderstand.
Absolutely fucking terrified.
And then, the realization, the surprise and the nerves turn into absolute guilt. He had also said a few things about you. Nancy told him that it’s sad you had to be included this way into the party, into their problems, but that you looked strong and determined after going into the upside down just one time.
And he replied with how much he desired you wouldn’t have gotten involved at all. It sounded harsh, it sounded vile and venomous… And it was intended that way, or at least that’s what he thought. 
Now, he realizes that he didn’t want you involved so you wouldn’t go through danger, but you did, you went through so much pain and suffering. Nancy was right, you were strong, and you didn’t second guess your actions when it meant saving someone. 
“Shit–” He jumped a bit when he felt the water turn cold, not realizing for how long he had been in his head, thinking, running through his thoughts and memories. He turned the water off and shook his head to get the excess of it out of his hair. 
He got out of the shower and grabbed a towel, a white one that had the smudge of a lipstick stain that never got off. Your lipstick. 
And just that mere stain made his heart jump and miss one beat, two beats, maybe three. Fuck… Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.
He really wants you to know he doesn’t mean what he said in the RV.
To both of those things.
Especially the one about Nancy.
“Fuck me.”
tagging friends and mutuals
@prettyboyeddiemunson @taintedcigs @mysticmunson @sherrylyn628 @munson-mjstan @maroon-cardigan @joekeerysmoles @munsonlore @ibellcipem @corrodedcorpses @agirlwholovesrockstars
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cammys-imagines24 · 2 months
Text
•Being in a Relationship with Levi•
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People are terrified of you.
Just because of the simple fact that you're Levi Ackerman's partner, so his scariness has by association, traveled to you as well.
You're treated with respect, everyone listens to you and goes out of their way to help you because if word got back to Levi that you had been mistreated, well...
Let's just say that it never ends well for the person who has dared to disrespect you.
He is the most thoughtful partner ever. Acts of service is his love language. He will remember everything about you.
How you like your drink of choice, your favorite flower, your favorite foods, if you're cold he will wrap his emerald cloak around you.
Your favorite flowers will show up on your bedside table with a note whenever he is away for a long time, your favorite drink, like tea or coffee, will show up on your office desk whenever you're swamped with work.
He'll memorize your fears, your dreams, your likes and dislikes.
Levi pined after you for so long before ever daring to start anything with you it's not even funny.
He's lost so many people and the thought of losing you, too, made him feel so weak and he hated feeling that way.
But then eventually he realized that he loved you whether you knew it or not, and you had made a home for yourself deep in his heart, all without trying to, so he just decided to tell you how he felt.
And since then he has had so many nightmares of you dying.
He wakes up, from what little sleep he manages to get and immediately searches for you.
The sight of you sleeping soundly, soft and warm, at his side comforts him in ways you cannot even imagine.
You don't know obviously, because you're asleep, but he will pull you close and whisper how much he loves you, grateful you're not conscious to hear the crack in his voice.
Levi may not be able to reach things on the top shelf for you, but he will personally lift you up in his arms so you'll be able to reach it yourself. Showing off just how effortlessly strong he is.
Calls you "love" in private or whispers it in your ear whenever others cannot overhear him.
Whenever you suggestively call him "Captain" he will have you bent over his desk in 10 seconds flat.
You two have had sex in his office more times than you can count.
Lowkey calls you his "wife" before you're even officially married.
Especially if you're being hit on by another man.
Levi will sidle up to your side, glare ice cold daggers at the scum, wrap an arm around the small of your waist and say to them, "Are you bothering my wife?"
They'll take one look at humanity's strongest soldier, how if looks could kill they'd be six feet under already and scamper away like a frightened mouse.
Matter of fact, Levi already bought your wedding ring a long time ago and he keeps it in his uniforms pocket always.
So whenever Levi goes out on missions, and fights titans beyond the walls, he can feel the weight of that ring and know that he has someone to return home to.
He will propose to you once the battle has been won, when the War is finally over, but until that day he will keep that ring as a reminder.
A promise to you, and you don't even know it yet.
Incredibly protective, but not in a controlling way. He knows you can handle yourself but also, you're the love of his life, so he is always ready to defend you.
There isn't anything Levi wouldn't do for you and he would protect you with his life.
He figures, you are his heart, so he will do everything he can to make sure you're both safe and alive.
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dark-night-hero · 2 months
Note
hi :'D man your writing of tragedy makes me want to cry and i love it
the first one i read from your works is zhongli losing y/n his mate because he wasnt there when a god wrecked havoc, so i got an idea.
neuvi's old old, and focalors invited him to be the iudex of fontaine right? during his early days in fontaine he struggled so much with interacting with humans. what if, he meets a human (y/n) who doesnt care that their new iudex had come from nowhere, and completely aids neuvi with communicating with humans and they form such a close bond that he doesnt understand, but right as he decides to go for it and ask yn he receives news of a new case ; yn's murder :D
i swear i did not mean for this ask to be long i am so sorry 😭
Humans can be cruel ang cunning creatures. If not then crimes and wars would have never happened. They are beings who are capable of hurting each other for the sake of their own gain. They would not hesitate to use each other and kill each other.
That is the human on Neuvillette, the new iudex of Fontaine. He does not even know why he accepted such invitation. In the first place, his hesrt was distant from the people. His imagine of them was quite... bad. Maybe that was just his discrimination, but the more he get to stand on trial, then more distorted his imagine of mortals become.
And then he met you. You who was a human, but different from the humans that the knew. You were just... different. You do not look at him with fear nor do you look at him with indifference. The way you act around him, you just act like yourself.
He met you in a rainy day, a rainy day after a trial. He was walking unbothered under the rain, when a figure with umbrella started walking towards him. "Ah- Ah! Mister-!" At first, he ignore it despite the softness of the voice whom was talking to him. "Wait-!" He was avoiding people as good as he can. He saw no good in interacting with them.
"Hey!" He was getting pissed to be honest, the rain was getting heavier and once in a while a thunder could be heard. He was ready to brush the person off when suddenly, the rain stopped. There was an umbrella over his head. "Are you crazy! At this rate you're going to get sick!" What? Neuvillette was stunned, letting himself get dragged by this mortal who does not seem to recognise him or did they? "Iudex or not, what are you thinking walking under the pouring rain? Here! Take this umbrella!" After going under some shade, he watch you left him out much thought, he was holding your umbrella as you only have your hands protecting you from the rain.
You are weird. Weird in a good way that does not make sense. Maybe it was a coincidence, but after thatm he kept bumping into you. In his walk in his way into the court and when he was coming back from the court. In the path he talk, you were always there talking to him even though he does not reply. Still, it was strange how with you, he felt comfort.
"It's raining again, and here you are walking under the rain. Seriously, what's with you?" ... "Rather than that, what's with you?" "Me? What's wrong with me?" "You're different from other." "What makes me different from them?" He did not answer after that, for he too does not know what to say. How weird.
You were pretty close to him. He does not know how, but many all those walk together with you was working. In the end, he found himself completely relax and comfortable around you. "Now that I think about it. I'm your only friend, no?" ... "gasp! For real?" "Humans... I found them rather hard to communicate with." After all those trials, he does not know what to think about humans anymore. That is why he found you weird. "Why? Why is that?!" You pout. "Well..." He stopped walking and ponder for a while. "Maybe it's because I have seen mostly the dark side of humans that I cannot seem to know what to think and say to them." He replied after a little while. "Hey! That's totally unfair! If you try hard enough to know more about us there is more than the dark side there is to see!" "Hmmm. I doubt..." "No! Seriously, you jut have to open up your heart to the people and you will see the goodness in their heart." You laugh. To be honest, he does know that. After all, there was no other ways he could describe you but a good person and perhaps, maybe even more than that. But to open his heart to the people other than you... "Right... I'll think about it."
Neuvillette always find it difficult to interact with people. Most of the time he had this instinct to stay away from them. Maybe it has something to do with their origins, he was a high being after all and humans. Humans are just... humans. Nevertheless from the moment he have met you, he knew he was doomed. Doomed to understand humans. From the moment he get to know more of you, the more he mindset starts to change. Maybe... maybe humans are not as bad a he thought them to be.
"Are you okay?" The cafe was not crowded. It was almost midnight when the two of you decided to go into one. "Of course! Why wouldn't I be?" You asked with a smile on your face. Nevertheless Neuvillette did not fail to notice the way your eyes quickly scan the surroundings, the way you seemed to be anxiously playing with your fingers. But then, you are looking at him dead in the eyes telling him you are fine. Maybe it was nothing. "It's getting dark, shall we go?"
That night, Neuvillette decided to give it a try. Maybe just as you said, humans are not bad as he thought they would be. Maybe just like you said, all he need to do is to open his heart to the people and see things in a different perspective. Thinking about it makes his lips curl up, thinking how joyful you would be if he were to tell you that in person. But.
Humans can be cruel ang cunning creatures. If not then crimes and wars would have never happened. They are beings who are capable of hurting each other for the sake of their own gain. They would not hesitate to use each other and kill each other.
"What is this?" His hands were shaking. "Earlier a citizen named (First name) (Lastname) was found mur-?! Monsieur?! Where-" He rush out the room. He run and run and run until he was under the heavy rain. Hands still clenching the piece of goddamn paper with such gruesome, unbelievable concent. No, he would not believe it. He could not believe it. You were just walking with him earlier this day, your smile as too real for it to be unreal. He had just seen you earlier so why? Why are you there sitting in your own pool of blood soaked under the rain?
He could not even approach you, he just watch there along with the other people watching the crime scene get cleaned up like it was nothing. People were looking at you with interest like yu were some kind of entertainment after all. It was the very first case of murder in Fontaine.
Neuvillette could hear nothing under the rain, he just stood there under the same spot even after tour body was taken away. Countless thoughts running in his head. Why? Why does it have to be you? Why do humans never change? Why does t has to be you? Why? Just fucking why you? You asked Neuvillette to give humans a chance. But how could he do that now that he knew humans were the very same being that took you away from him?
Neuvillette did not cry but he just stand there, eyes bloodshot as his lips leak blood from bitting so hard, hands curl into a fist. He was mad, so mad that he wanted to end things right now. He was starting to blame everyone, the world for taking away the only good thing that ever happened to him. In his eyes were those full of hatred and is ready to explode. He would never forgive-
Neuvillette felt a weak thug on his pants, for a moment, he looked down. The first thing he noticed was the blood stained water right in front of him before the child that was holding on into him. "Ha-hydro dragon. Do-don't cry." The child sniff, tears rolling down his cheeks upon saying so.
Neuvillette does not like humans. They are a cruel and cunning being who took away the love of his life before he could even realise it was love. At the same time, these humans were the being that his love one loves very much. "Don't worry." He slowly reach out and pat the little boy's head and magically, he was suddenly dried despite the pouring rain. "The hydro dragon doesn't cry." Just like that, the rain that seemed to be drowning in sadness stopped.
[ⓒdark-night-hero] 2024°
: I think I fucked up. Na bobo ata ako sa sunod sunod na quiz at exam kanina HAHAHA IT'S SO HOT IN THE PH HUHU
: No but seriously I think I fucked up making this asked. HAHAHAHHA did I do it right? Imma delete this na lang charot.
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monamourbladie · 10 months
Note
AHH OKAY SO.. this feels so weird typing out but IF YOU'RE COMFORTABLE CAN YOU WRITE LIKE PROTECTIVE/POSSESSIVE DAN HENG IL? idk how to describe it aaa like.. id imagine because he is a vidyadhara, they stay with their lovers for life, so he's be like very protective over his lover. maybe smut but its up to you!!!!!!!
Possessive Dan Heng/IL head canons
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okay firstly i wanna say i was sitting on this ask for days bc i was trying to think of a possible plot but I couldn’t:( so i’m just gonna do some head cannons, i hope you don’t mind! I’ll be including some nsfw ones at the end too don’t worry :)) and thank u for being my first request on this blog hehe~
Dan Heng:
alright, so Dan is a very reserved and kept to himself kinda guy as we can see on the Express. he doesn’t show his emotions a lot and he’s kind of hard to read
you’re one of the few people that can read him like a book due to how close you guys are and how much he trusts you. like, even MARCH couldn’t get him to open up as much as he does with you
so when he’s upset, you just know. like it’s so obvious to you and you alone lol
so let’s say you’re out in Belobog and he’s speaking with March & Stelle when some guy comes up to you and starts chatting with you
initially he wouldn’t think much of it until he starts hearing laughter from you, and then all his attention is on you and him. like, why are you laughing at his jokes? what’s he even doing talking to you??
he’d just kind of keep his distance and just watch. nobody else really understands what he’s doing, but you can immediately recognize the coldness in his eyes as he’s glaring daggers at the man.
eventually he’d have enough when he notices him starting to touch your arm and he immediately walks over, keeping a calm & collected stature
“y/n! there you are, i was wondering where you ran off to.” he’s walk up behind you and wrap his arm around your waist, keeping you pressed close against him.
your cheeks would flush and you’d immediately lean into him, feeling better now that he’s here and can scare the guy off. “i was just waiting for our drinks.”
“and speaking with me. i was offering to give her a tour around Belobog, since she’s new,” the man said with a smile to her. dan’s grip would tighten around your waist and he’s grit his teeth.
your drink would be called and he’d move away for just a moment - (it helped that you were waiting by the counter, anyway) and grabbed your drinks for you, handing you one and kissing your forehead as he did so, “that’s sweet, but we already have a tour guide. let’s go.”
he’d grab your hand and fast walk you away, his heart almost aching from the exchange.
you always understood how sensitive he is about you dating him, since he’s been so heavily traumatized by his previous marriage in his past life. any scenario where you could leave him in any way terrifies him more than he wants to admit.
“was that supposed to be intimidating?” march would comment with a giggle as they walked over. dan simply sighed as he handed march her drink, “leave it, march.”
you’d look up at him with a soft smile and tilt his face to look down at you. you’d grin and kiss his lips longingly, “don’t worry, sweetheart. i was just being nice and keeping conversation.”
this eased his mind greatly - it’s not like he doesn’t trust you, he’s just extremely insecure and fearful about losing his loved ones, even to a random stranger in a planet they have no plans to stay on.
back at the hotel when you’re alone though? that’s another story. he doesn’t feel the need to keep his usual reserved facade up, and you know that.
the moment the door is shut, he’s immediately behind you, his arms trailing up yours as he peppers kisses up the back of your neck, “i hated seeing him speak with you, you know that?” he’d mutter against your skin.
you’d hum and close your eyes as you leaned into his touch, knowing this was going to be a pleasantly long night. “were you jealous, baby?” you’d playfully tease him.
he’d let out a low growl against your skin as his grip on you tightened, moving you in his arms so you’re pressing your chest against his own. he leaned down and started to kiss against your jawline up to your ear, “i don’t get jealous. i get protective.”
“you’re so jealous,” you’d giggle, moving your head so you could kiss his lips instead. he’d kiss you back harshly to immediately shut you up, beginning to walk the two of you slowly over to the bed as you’d kiss
he’d pin you down against the bed quickly, his kisses getting more feverish as his hands start exploring your body, “that’s enough out of you. you’re my girl.”
you’d squirm under his touch in enjoyment, cheeks flushing red from being called his girl. you loved when you got him to act all touchy, especially when he was riled up like this.
he would absolutely tease you all throughout the night just to get you so riled up that you’d just be panting and begging for him to finally let you have your release.
he’d click his tongue and lean in against your ear, his fingers teasing you unbearably slowly as you squirmed. he wouldn’t let you have your release until you cried out that you were his and only his, reaffirming him in the best way.
he’d lean down and kiss you heatedly as he pumped his fingers quickly to push you over the edge, “good girl, that’s right… you belong to me, no one else…”
youd cry out as he helped you through your high, “o-only yours, dan… f-fuck…”
there was literally nothing he adored more than seeing you a sobbing, moaning mess all because of him. part of you wondered if you should get him possessive more often if he would treat you so nicely afterwards…
Imbibitor Lunae:
if you thought dan heng was closed off and reserved, dan feng was another level. we all know everyone described him as cold and uncaring, but when it came to you? he was a total opposite and an absolute sweetheart.
he had his moments of being a typical brooding dragon, but the love he has for you is so immense that it outweighed every once of coldness in his heart and actions
it honestly surprised most of the quintet when he announced that you two started dating, because out of everyone they expected to actually get a girlfriend the high elder himself was last on the list — let alone a short life species such as yourself.
dan feng does not like showing any ounce of PDA in public by any means. in the public eye, he only would have his arm around you if you were walking around, or occasionally held your hand. he would never kiss you if he knew a lot of people would be seeing it
at least that’s how he acted early on in your relationship. this lead to most people thinking you were single, so it was not uncommon that you would have guys flirt with you right in front of him.
the first time dan feng noticed a drunk guy coming into you hardcore, it made his blood boil. unlike dan heng, dan feng was totally cool with showing off his angry side.
he immediately stormed right up and got between the two of you, resting his hand against your chest and glaring at the man, “i think it’s best if you leave.”
the man scoffed as he crossed his arms, “actually, it would be best if you left. i was having a great time with her.”
dan felt his blood boil and he glared at him, “that’s my fiancée, and i suggest you get away from her immediately.”
“or what?” the man spat back. “for being her fiancé, you certainly don’t act like one.” without thinking, dan shoved the man against the wall, his arm pressed firmly over his chest, “you have some nerve to speak to your High Elder in such a way. I told you — stay away from her. you should be thankful i’m not throwing you into the Shackling Prison for being an ass.”
the man’s eyes widened as he started sobering up enough to realize how badly he fucked up. he squeaked and nodded furiously, “i-i’m so sorry, your highness! it won’t happen again!”
he’d step back and let him run off quickly. turning back to you he saw your cheeks burning red with embarrassment, and his demeanor immediately changed back to stoic. he approached you and began to walk away with you, his hand wrapped around your waist, “i believe i owe you an apology. i didn’t realize i wasn’t acting as much of a fiancé as I thought i was.”
and ever since that day, he made sure he always had his arm around you in some way, and made it very, very clear that you were his fiancée.
he’d pretty much be the same as dan heng, except way more passionate and dominating about it. he’s not afraid to entirely let his guard down in private with you, especially about anything sexual, so absolutely be prepared for a long, pleasure filled night
he’d be very dominate but definitely a pleasure dom … most of the time lol, other times he’d just be absolutely rough with you if he was really, really feeling jealous or possessive
he would not be afraid to leave a lot of marks - it made him proud that others would absolutely know you’re taken just by one glance at your neck, and he wasn’t ashamed of it, either. he knew he fucked up early on, and he made sure to always make up for it, especially in bed
and yes — part of the reason why he’s so protective over you is because you are a short life species. it absolutely destroys him that while you will grow old and spend the rest of your life with him, he cannot share the same blessing with you, and he absolutely hates himself for it. it’s not fair.
that’s why any time anyone tried anything with you, he’d get so angry over it because how dare they flirt with his one and only?
he also gave 0 fucks that some vidyadharans did not approve of you, in fact he loves to flaunt it in their faces now and kiss you at public events when he hears people murmur about the high elder and his “short-life woman.”
moral of the story, don’t fuck with the high elder’s woman or you’re a dead man
i hope this is what u had in mind alenfhehddhhd thank you for the request 🫶🏻
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actual-changeling · 9 months
Text
"It would have been you."
It's raining.
Of course, it's raining.
A soft, constant drizzle leaving his hair a damp, curly mess that falls into his face and clings to his skin. Even though the cold is slowly seeping into his clothes, Crowley stops and turns around. Condensation is collecting on the inside of his shades where his breath drifts up, warm and too fast, and even if it hadn't been late at night, if the street hadn't been empty, he would have still taken them off.
Aziraphale is licking rain drops from his lips and blinking with dark, heavy lashes.
"What?"
His voice is rough, almost drowned out by the noise of rain hitting the pavement, collecting in small puddles around his feet.
"If it had been a choice, a real one, it would have been you."
The world did not end, questions were answered, apologies spoken, but their last conversation before everything went to shit is still a sharp splinter lodged in his chest, cutting him open more and more with every heartbeat. All of the fears he had left unsaid, the viscous doubt pooling in his lungs and weighing down his breaths—the truth might tip the scales and finally destroy him, and yet he cannot bring himself to stop Aziraphale from talking.
"It has always been you, Crowley. You must know that."
"I don't."
Bitterness laces his voice despite his best intentions, a drop of oil tainting an entire river, six thousand years of history, and it hurts because it's the truth, because they both wish it wasn't.
He doesn't know, couldn't know, because Aziraphale always needed him to stop them, to step back when they got too close. Every single time he had tried to push, gone too bloody fast, the angel had recoiled, scared for him, scared for the both of them. Crowley knows, and at the same time, he doesn't, because he still has hope and there is nothing more dangerous than allowing it to bloom; it's small, withered, brittle, on the verge of death and has been for centuries.
(It's still there, though. It keeps fighting, keeps trying. Keeps hoping.)
They're drenched to the bone, wet and pathetic, and there is nothing romantic about any of it when Aziraphale retraces his steps and closes the distance between them; there is, however, love.
There has always been love, whether they could admit it or not.
"I'm sorry. For- for everything, for making you think that I don't care about you."
"Angel, don't lie-"
"I'm not lying."
Crowley stares, frozen to the spot when Aziraphale presses cold, wet palms to his cheeks, his breath a ghost of warmth on his skin. This is too much, too close to 'our side', and if he didn't know better (does he know better? does he really?) he would think that he is about to—
"I'm not lying," he whispers, broken, truthful, "I love you. I won't leave you."
The rain stings in his eyes, masking the tears—hot and wistful—meeting Aziraphale's skin where it is touching his.
"Don't make promises you can't keep, angel."
His voice cracks and so does his heart, and he can feel the walls they have built together crumbling to dust under their feet. It's not real, it can't be real, and yet the truth is shimmering in storm-blue eyes he has been carrying with him since the moment he first put stars into the sky.
"It's you, always has been, always will be. If you let me."
Crowley kisses him as he falls apart, barely healed fractures reopening as his essence spills over and out, drowning him in please, please be real, please let us have this, please, God.
Just this once.
Aziraphale holds his face so incredibly gently, as if it's something worth keeping, something to protect, something he is afraid to lose. When the ground doesn't open up and swallow them whole, when the sky doesn't reach for them with greedy hands, he allows himself to seize Aziraphale's face in turn, cupping his jaw and kissing the rain drops off his lips, his cheeks, the tip of his nose, tasting his tears when they begin to fall.
"It's always been you. God, of course I will let you."
Sapphire blue eyes blink up at him, a smile pressed against his lips, a smile he can feel, a smile that is for him, them.
"Perhaps you could let me somewhere less, ah, sopping wet?"
"I was right, though. It's the rain that did it."
Aziraphale laughs, bright and happy, and infectious enough to make Crowley laugh too, and grabs his hand to pull him back towards the bookshop - back home.
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lowkeyremi · 1 year
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OK HEAR ME OUT! Reader who is a single mother of one of Aizawa’s students X Aizawa???? PLEASE I need it!
IM IN LOVE WITH YOU YES OMG I NEED THIS anon im giving you kisses rn
Aizawa x fem!reader (also your denki's mom bc why not)
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A small sigh escapes your lips as you pull into the parking lot of your son's school, it's still early in the year and his teacher has requested to meet with you.
He doesn't even have to explain why you're here because you already have a good idea: Denki's grades.
You smooth out your skirt and double check that your blouse is buttoned all the way. Security stopped you at the gate which took around ten minutes to defuse, they honestly thought you looked too young to be anyone's mother.
Thirty-two is a bit young to have a fifteen year old but you know how it goes: unprotected sex = baby. It's the same old story, your boyfriend freaked out and dipped on you.
It made you proud Denki got into a school like this, your goal is for him to further his education... something you never got the chance to do.
Finding his classroom was a whole other situation. UA is HUGE. So poor you is walking around every corner looking for class "1-A".
"Are you lost?" A voice loud and energetic asked, it caused you to jump in your skin. When you turn your head you see blond hair sticking upward toward the ceiling and a pair of goofy shades. He notices your giggle and quirks an eyebrow.
"Are you a new student?!" The blond questions, his face is full of energy and excitement.
"No.. do I really look that young?" You ask, smile bright.
"You do look pretty young." As soon as he says that it dawns on him that you might be a younger mother.
"Ah- sorry! I just-"
"Don't worry about it. I was actually looking for class 1-A, my son's teacher requested to meet with me." His eyes widen.
"Don't you worry, I can take you to Eraserhead's class!" With that you follow him down a flight of stairs and you guys turn like four corners. Well damn, you were way off.
You had been too caught up into your thoughts to realize he stopped, you bumped right into him.
"Sorry." He gives you a soft smile, "It's nothing!"
He knocks loudly, "Oh, Eraser! You have a visitor!" The blond doesn't even wait for a response to open the door, he just bursts in.
"Well I've gotta go now! Take care Miss..."
"L/n, the name's L/n." A thumbs up is sent your way before the loud blond man leaves.
A deep voice causes your brain to stir, "Thank you for coming on such a short notice, Miss L/n."
And what the fuck because Denki's teacher has beautiful long black hair, stubble, and a little scar under his right eye. He must be married you assume, because no way a handsome man like him is single.
You respond with confidence in your voice, "Of course, I apologize for keeping you waiting. I got lost."
His face softens as he motions for you to sit on the chair he's placed by his desk.
"Understandable, UA is not small. Let's get down to business, shall we?" He sits at his desk, organizing some papers before handing you a few. You feared the worst, Denki always strived to do his best so you shouldn't have anything to even fear.
"My students have been under attack a few times by villians, we've spoke to the board about the situation, because parents are worried about their children." You were relieved this had nothing to do with his grades but it scared you that villians were out for high schoolers.
"I thought the attacks stopped." Aizawa nods at you.
"They have for the time being but we fear they won't completely stop, which is why UA is building a dormitory system to keep students safe. What I've handed you is the consent form for your son to live on campus. It's not manditory but it is highly suggested." He explains to you and you read the pages.
"How do I know Denki will be in good hands?" You ask biting your lip, it doesn't go unnoticed by Aizawa because his eyes flicker to your lips then back up to your face.
"I understand what it's like to lose someone close to you, which is why I put so much effort and care into my students, they may say and think otherwise but they don't see what happens behind the scenes." You could tell his words were sincere, it wasn't convincing enough though. You worry too much about him and just the mere thought of losing him is enough to scare you.
Aizawa leans in to place a hand on yours, it feels tingly.
"I know all you have is my word to go off of, but I promise you I will protect your son and all my other students with my life." His eyes burn into yours. You get lost in those beautiful black eyes.
"Uh- hah. I'll look over the papers."
In the end you sign the papers.
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"Mom you have to tell me who's taking you to dinner!" Denki says for the millionth time over the phone. You call him almost every night to check in on him.
"It's none of your business, young man." You'd tell him when you were ready. Just... not now. He'd freak out if he knew you were going out to dinner with his teacher.
Before you left that day, Aizawa asked for your number. You happily gave it to him, there was no way in hell you'd miss out on a chance like that.
After a month of just talking (and flirting) he asked you out for dinner, you agreed of course.
"But mommmmmm why nottttttt?" Denki whined.
"I'll tell you when we're ready. Anyways I have to go. Take care, sweetheart." He sighs but tells you he loves you. "I love you too, Denki." He hangs up, leaving you to finish your makeup.
The plan was originally to meet at dinner, but Aizawa was not letting up until you agreed that he could pick you up.
Your hands were starting to sweat again. It's normal to be this nervous, right? Dating hadn't really been in your line of vision while raising a child. It seemed to be the same process: go out with someone, get along nicely, start developing real feelings, they find out you have a son, they leave.
It seemed refreshing to finally go out with someone who knew you were raising a young man. Waiting it out seems to have been the right choice. Aizawa is a mature man.
The door bell rings and you shoot up out of your seat like a rocket.
"Fuckfuckfuckfuck, I look okay right?" It felt weird to ask your reflection, but self love is everything these days.
Your burgundy v cut dress was a bit on the short side, it hugged your body which made you a little insecure. You'd heard some women say pregnancy made them glow. You were convinced otherwise, it took you some time to finally feel beautiful.
Your walk to the door was dreadful, what if he takes it all back? Upon opening the door he was standing there in all his beauty. His raven colored hair was put up in a messy bun, his stubble cleaned up some, and he looked a little less tired. Your eyes inched down his body, he's wearing a white button up and black slacks.
"You're beautiful." The two of you say at the same time. Your eyes widen.
"Thank you, I was actually kind of nervous." His face softens at your words. The hero holds his hand out so you can take it. Just like the last time his hand was warm and made you feel tingly. You chuckled at how dumb that sounded, definitely sounds like something from a cheesy romance novel.
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Dinner was a little awkward but beyond amazing. A waitress spilled wine on you, she apologized like a million times. You weren't mad though, having a son meant many messes were made... especially on you. The wine didn't stain that bad because of your dress color.
Aizawa offered you the jacket he kept in his car. Accepting it was a no brainer. He held it out for you and you gave him a confused look.
"I'll put it on you, come here." His voice was low and seductive. He noticed your smile. "You're so cute." He whispers as you put your arms in the jacket sleeves.
"Only cute?" Your question was followed by your signature smirk. The food was paid for, his hand wrapped around your waist and he walked you two to his car.
"Sexy, funny, chatty.... I could go on." He says with a smug smile.
"Oh stop it, I'm not sexy-" You don't get to finish your sentence, Aizawa twirls you around so you guys are facing each other. His hands rest on your hips for a second and in a flash he's cupping your face.
Your heart started beating a mile per minute... no second. He slowly pulls you in, those lazy eyes looking into yours. His lips look so kissable.
You pucker your lips and he presses his lips to yours, there weren't any fireworks or sparks like in Disney movies, it felt like he was one with you. Your body was connected to his in a way.
When the kiss is over he's staring at you, "you are sexy, I don't know who's lied to you."
__________
When he pulls into your driveway, you realize this date is almost over. Hopefully he'll agree to going out again. He seemed to enjoy the night as much as you did.
He walked you up to your door, eyes trained on you.
Your feet stop on your doormat. It felt like you were stuck in cement.
"Will I be seeing you again, Aizawa?"
"Call me Shota, and yes, I'll be seeing you again." He faces you and kisses you again. A sigh of relief escapes your lips.
"Call me." You say and he hums in acknowledgement.
Maybe... trying again at dating won't hurt you.
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Hiii anon, I hope you like this!! I don't think this has been my best work but I think it shouldn't be that bad? Lol imagine how Denki would react when he finds out you're with his teacher. Love you guys, working on Teacher's Assistant ch. 1
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artaxlivs · 11 months
Text
Eddie just knows how to get under everyone’s skin. It’s his superpower. He’s always been great at it. Knows how to piss people off so they’ll leave him alone. Knows how to talk to his flock to motivate or inspire fear. But then...Steve fucking Harrington happened. And he thought he knew. He thought - I’m gonna get up in this jock’s space and make him uncomfortable, make him shy away in fear of Eddie touching or flirting or smiling. 
But Steve flirts back. Figures out that touching Eddie makes him skittish. No one ever touches Eddie. He’s forged his relationships on keeping people at a distance. But Steve doesn’t follow any rules. He’s not like everyone else in Eddie’s life. He’s not afraid of repulsed or annoyed. Or maybe he is and he doesn’t care? 
However it is, he’s figured out that trailing a hand across the small of Eddie’s back will make him shiver, that Steve tugging gently on his hair as he walks by elicits a groan from him, that Steve manhandling Eddie when he’s being obnoxious and in the way makes him pliant and easy.
So Steve fucking Harrington gets under his skin. On purpose. Eddie knows its on purpose. He can see a gleam in Steve’s eye every time. What’s he supposed to do though? Call him out? Ask him out? Run and hide? That seems like the best option for awhile but he’s afraid Steve would just hunt him down.
It’s a Wednesday when it happens. Eddie finally calls Steve’s bluff. But he can’t do it in a normal way because he’s Eddie and he’s nothing if not a mess of a human being. So when Steve puts his hands on Eddie’s hips and bodily moves him to the side so he can reach over him to pull a glass out of the cabinet, Eddie turns to him, bats his eyelashes and simpers in a high obnoxious voice, “Oh, I do love a big strong man who can handle me.”
And Steve. This fucker. This absolute fucker. Instead of being weirded out like most guys would, instead of backing off or playing it off or, hell, telling Eddie off, Steve smirks, puts his hands back on Eddie’s hips, leans in way too close and says softly but with so much promise, “Oh, I can handle you if you really want, Munson.” His fingers dig in as he squeezes Eddie’s hips through his jeans, “Gotta say please though.”
Eddie’s pretty sure he lets out an embarrassing whimper. Sure he looks like a deer caught in headlights. Knows that his pants are slowly becoming uncomfortable - particularly in the front region. He can’t pass this up, though, right? That would be crazy. So he stutters out, “P-p-please?”
And that’s how Eddie Munson loses his virginity in Steve Harrington’s kitchen, Because, as it turns out, Steve wasn’t bluffing. And maybe Eddie doesn’t mind if Steve gets in his personal space. In fact, Steve can get in Eddie’s “personal space” twice a day for the rest of their lives if he wants. Give Eddie an hour and he’ll get in Steve’s “personal space” this time.
******
That’s it for this drabble but feel feel to check out my Masterlist or if you want more Soft Dom Steve check out Destroy the Silence (Drummer Steve) and If Eddie on top is more your thing, I’d suggest  An Accidental Flogging. No matter what you read this week - happy reading and I hope it’s time well spent!
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Alastor - [ ELATION ]
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A/N: This was originally an nsfw quick thought but it spiraled out of control so I guess it's a story sneak peak now?!…
WARNINGS: [ NSFW ] + [ MDNI ] + [ FEM READER ]
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You look down on him. Pure joy on your face as he kneels, sitting there at your feet, and all at his will.
It feels so odd but intoxicating. You, so much smaller than him, who can only harness half the power he holds and are seen by everyone as the softest being ever to grace the hotel halls. You, an almost picture-perfect doll many thought fell from heaven, towering over one of the most feared overloads without a hint of fear in you.
Alastor at your whim, willingly, and all because you flattered him with your existence. So polite, so sweet, and so daring. You were fragile and fearless, an ordinary sinner who had him wrapped around her little finger within minutes of your first meeting.
And you knew it.
You knew it and you used it against him shamelessly.
One look from your doe-like eyes and he felt incapable of refusing any wish you asked of him.
It gave you a rush, confidence even, and boosted your hidden ego, knowing you could crumble such a powerful demon to his knees so quickly. The slight smile you'd learned to showcase daily became a grin looking down on him now, in the confines of his room, in the dead of night…
You'd come to him for attention, and though he was busy preparing the script for his next broadcast, he immediately disregarded it as you waltzed into his space.
“Hm, seems you missed me a lot, Al,” you teased him with a giggle, perching yourself on the sofa he'd just been lounging on himself and lowering your gaze as he crouched his taller frame before you.
A true gentleman….acting without being told to.
How sweet….
“My dear,” he addresses you quietly, smile ever present as you tipped his head up with your stocking-clad foot; the soft black fabric reached your thighs, drawing his attention to the exposed skin above it as you playfully nudged his chin to refocus his wandering gaze.
“My eyes are up here, sir. Don't you know it's impolite to gawk at a lady?” You flash a closed-eye smile while chastising him, crossing one leg over the other as he looks upon your face, but he finds it incredibly hard to leave it there as the silk of your nightgown shifts with your every move.
Alastor could easily rip it off, pin you down, and take what he wanted from you.
Use you for all your worth and dare you to run as he did…
He had the power to but basked in your control instead, loving the trivial games you'd play with his undead heart and undeniably amused by your confidence to do so.
You didn't need his affections, his ownership, or permission.
Protection or popularity wasn't your prerogative either…
You needed nothing from the feared Radio Demon…
Not a single thing…
But you would damn sure take everything from him.
“What is it that you desire, sweetheart? Tell me, and it's yours…” Alastor felt his chest lose all its air as you giggled again, humming quietly, hearing his offer and only answering him when you'd taken an excellent, sultry look at him.
“Anything?” you question him, reaching out to gently pet his ears, brushing the same delicate fingers through his town-toned hair a couple of times before tracing over his hidden antlers. Alastor felt an invisible shiver rack his body as you toyed with the familiar areas, aware of their sensitivity but selfishly stimulating them to get his reactions.
“Anything…you want..” the stag groaned lowly, smile growing tight as you massage his right ear before switching to the other and using that hold to drag him closer while uncrossing your legs. He obediently leaned in, the subtle scent of your aroused heat stirring a dormant hunger in him instantly and the plushness of your thighs fitting perfectly into his clawed hands as he reached for you.
You moaned quietly as he dragged his claws over your skin, careful not to rip your stockings, panting heavily against your clothed cunt like a starved man.
It'd been days since he last tasted you, had his fill of your cunt that you so graciously allowed him access to, and Alastor had long forgotten how to mask his greed for it…
He saw no point in hiding his craving when you came to him in a state like this. Demanding and desperate, just the same as he was.
“So…” you sighed in delight as he nuzzled his head closer, blood-red eyes drifting up to meet yours as you continued to speak, “…you’ll help me fall asleep then? One last time…”
A lie.
You both knew you'd return to him for all your needs, desires, and troubles.
“One last time “ meant nothing to Alastor and even less to you.
“Of course, I will, my darling…” he let the static drop from his voice, admiring how your small canines dug into your bottom lip, eyes lidding over with unmistakable pleasure.
That was all you needed to hear from Alastor, voicing no refusal as he shifted closer to your heart and moaned loudly as he passed his tongue over your clothed heat once, then twice before ripping it away with his sharp teeth.
You jolted from sudden action, not startled by Alastors microaggressions and rather proud of yourself for causing such a ravenous reaction. “Careful, or you might hurt me, Al…” you feigned concern, petting his head gently as a lazy smile tugged at your lips, and said deer demon responded to your coy reprimand by slowly lapping at your folds.
“Oh, mmm…” Your back arched from the velvet cushions you sat against, hands fisting the fabric of his red dress shirt as he wrapped an arm around each of your thighs, effectively keeping you still.
His grip was bruising, a normal pain you'd come to expect since you tended to struggle to tease his efforts at pleasing you, but your little habit persisted.
“Y-you think- ahm…you think you deserve this?… To have me…t-to get anything you want…ah…” you writhed in his hold, glaring at him vengfully despite drowning in a pool of ecstasy everytime he passed his unruly tongue over entrance. Alastor chuckled at your brazen remarks, reveling your warmth as he switched between teasing your clit and exploring your inner walls, and you lost your breath from the familiar pattern.
He knew you inside and out, committed your every reaction to memory, and thrived off seeing your tender body betray your power-hungry mentality.
Your thighs trembled as his tongue slithered deeper into your cunt, leaving no inch of it unexplored while his gaze remained on your flushed face. He couldn't look away, not when you threw your head back before letting out a string of whimpers, blinking back tears as your hips rolled closer to his face.
He had you now, legs shaking, and your count steadily streaming a mix of his saliva and your cum.
He had you, and there wasn't a thing you could do to stop him.
You'd asked for it…
“Earn it…earn me…Alastor,” you praised his efforts through grateful moans, vibrating with pleasure as the coil in your stomach curled itself impossibly tight the longer he feasted on your cunt. Stars dotted your vision as your high approached, his distorted groans and deathly grip coaxing it.
Blood trickled on your thighs, his nails gradually digging deeper into the fabric covering them, but you refused to care as Alastair brought you over the edge.
“That's enough..” you whine as his tongue swirls inside of your cunt, leaving nothing to waste as you come down from your high. He didn't relent to the ministrations, overstimulating you on purpose, and you tugged one of his ears roughly to correct him. Alastor grunted in pain, grimacing at you as he backed away from your entrance slowly, “What a violent little thing you are.” He chastises you, eyes narrowing as a huff leaves your lips, “And you're an arrogant son of a bitch…” you snap back childishly.
His eyes glow bright red at your snarky remark, smile widening as you follow it up with an innocent smile. No one but you could get away with talking to him that way, smug and inconsequential.
Indeed, Alastor would find a way to fuck the meaning of genuine fear into you…
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This was literally a drabble…ughh my writers block is actually debilitating atp… :(
[ BONUS CONTENT + ]
His eye brow raise kills me everytime…like okay yes sir whatever you say sir mhm will do sir no need to ask me twice sir!!! ❤️ credit to the creator
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