#secondly arm veins

[maximura]

[jaylaxies]

KINKTOBER DAY 22 — HAND KINK

PAIRING: jeno x fem!reader

GENRE/CW: smut, roommate au, fingering, praising, usage of nicknames.

WC: 0.9k words

WARNING: 18+ content, minors dni

A/N: hihi, angels! here i have soft dom!jeno as requested by my lovee @lunalovesstories! i hope you like it :3 all likes, comments, reblogs and feedbacks are highly appreciated! iloveyou all <33

✎ kinktober masterlist

“You’re staring, babe.”

His deep, soothing voice was enough to snap you out of your daydream, suddenly hyper aware of your surroundings, and well, your eyes which were fixated on his fingers. 

Lee Jeno was your roommate, and it was normal for you guys to sit down and have a chat, or give each other company occasionally, yet you had never been invited to sit down next to him to do what, watch him play video games? 

The offer was sweet, considering you were bored out of your mind and had nothing better to do at the given moment, yet your whole perspective regarding the situation changed when you realized that you’ll be watching Jeno work his fingers on the keyboard to kill off the enemies. 

Now, the idea of staring at someone’s hands must sound creepy per se, however you weren’t at fault or to be blamed for staring when Jeno had such long and slender fingers. You were rendered speechless when you first encountered the said man in a sleeveless tank top, his muscles prominent, which was also the day when you realized just how buff he is. That same day, he helped you carry the groceries inside the apartment—the veins on his arms more prominent than ever. 

The realization of the fact that he had pretty hands only encouraged your mind to get indulged in the most lewd thoughts of him having his fingers buried deep in your cunt. It had you wondering just how heavenly it would feel if he’d let you suck on his fingers, if he’d pinch your nipples for being naughty and staring, if he’d wrap his fingers around your neck in a gentle squeeze. 

Jeno can’t lie, he’s noticed your stare on his hands quite a few times now, yet he hadn’t ever bothered to point it out before, until today that is, mostly because he found it cute how you had completely zoned out while your eyes were still on the keyboard. 

You panicked, wondering if he thought that you were crazy for staring, yet you only found him smiling at you with a gentle gaze, his fingers coming to caress your cheek, your heartbeat rising up at the feeling of his soft thumb pads on your skin. 

“You like them, hm?” He asked, voice deep and soft. 

You found yourself gulping and saying no mindlessly to prevent any more embarrassment, to which he chuckled, “is that so?” 

“Jeno,” you didn’t mean it to come out as a whine but it did, especially when his thumb brushed your lip, your mouth parting open on its own accord, mind fuzzy already. 

He only pulled you closer effortlessly, making you sit on his lap with a gasp, holding your waist and continuing his actions. You couldn’t help it, not when his fingers were resting on your lips, so you simply opened your mouth further, your tongue gliding along his skin before you started sucking on them. 

He looked at you, mesmerized. Firstly because he didn’t expect his roommate to be interested in him. Secondly, because you looked so beautiful just sucking on his fingers, your lips glistening with the saliva. 

“So fucking pretty,” he muttered under his breath, his other hand parting your legs, massaging your inner thighs, which was convenient for him as you had worn a skirt. 

The cool metal of his rings juxtaposed the warmth of your skin, and you fully gave up trying to conceal your moans when he started rubbing your pussy over the panties, setting your mouth free to hear your pretty noises as you hid your face in his neck. 

“Still don’t like it, baby?” He whispered, cupping your cheek with his free hand to make you look up at him. 

“I do,” you breathed out, “I really do,” you confirmed, making him pull you in a sweet kiss, your knees weak with how effortlessly he got rid of your panties before stuffing you full of his fingers, your back arching with the sudden stretch. 

“That’s it, baby. You’re taking it so well,” he praised, pressing butterfly kisses all over your neck, as you held on to his arm for support, squirming and shaking with how good he made you feel, thrusting his fingers and abruptly picking up the pace when you started rolling your hips to meet his two digits, clenching uncontrollably while doing so. 

“Shh, baby. Calm down,” he whispered, pecking the side of your lip when you felt yourself breathing hard, “take a deep breath, yeah?” He kissed you all over your face. 

It felt too good, the unadulterated pleasure which had your nipples hardened, a tear escaping your eyes, which he kissed away, wrapping his arms around you to squeeze and fondle your tits, veins visible on his hands as he did so. 

“Go ahead, princess. Make a mess on my fingers,” he holds you gently, helping you reach your climax, patting your folds softly, pushing the wet fingers in your mouth to clean him up, “that’s my good girl,” he whispered, hugging you close to him which made you smile. 

You couldn’t believe that your roommate had you falling apart on his fingers, and praising you through it all.

All you knew was you didn’t want it to stop, and neither did Jeno because soon, he was picking you up and helping you get on the bed, pulling his T-shirt up and removing it before he got on top of you with a smirk, “are you ready, princess?”

It was going to be a long night. 

THANK YOU FOR READING!

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[bingwriterxo]

the chase

pairing: vada cavell x reader

summary: in which you and vada play a game of cat and mouse

warnings: none

word count: 4100+

author's note: does this make any sense? great question!

The moment Vada slipped into the passenger’s seat of Nick’s car, words were flying out of his mouth faster than she could comprehend, which was saying a lot considering how often she’d find herself rambling about the most random of things.

“Where were you yesterday?” he started as he shifted the car into drive, beginning their short ride to school. “I called you seven times, and you didn’t answer once. It was Sunday, and you do nothing on Sundays! I was beginning to think you were dead until I texted your mom and--”

Vada shook her head. “Wait, slow down. Back up. You text my mom? When did you get her number?”

He waved her off. “Not important. What is important is you telling me what you were doing yesterday.” He rolled past a stop sign, barely even glancing in its direction as he drove past. “I mean, seven calls, V, and you answered not a single one! So, what were you doing?”

She grinned, giggling in her seat at what she was about to reveal. “I had a date!”

Almost immediately, Nick whipped his head to look at her, his eyes wide and his mouth agape. “With who?!” he practically shouted.

Vada reached out, took his chin between her forefinger and thumb, and turned his head back in the direction of the windshield. “Eyes on the road, stupid. I’m not trying to die today.”

His grip on the steering wheel tightened. “Vada, if you don’t tell me who you went on a date with in the next five seconds, I’ll purposely drive us into oncoming traffic.”

“You’re so dramatic,” she teased with a roll of her eyes. He glared at her quickly before focusing on the road again. She bit her lip, trying to quell the excitement raging in her stomach as she said, “It was with Y/N.”

The car skidded to a stop and Vada was jolted forward, her seatbelt pressing tight against her body.

“Dude, what the fuck--” she began, but she was silenced as Nick twisted in his seat, his eyes hard as they set on her and his frown so defined that it made her uncomfortable.

“What,” he deadpanned.

She rubbed at her chest, right where the seat belt had dug into her. “What?” she asked, confused.

“You went on a date with…Y/N? Popular Y/N? Like, most-popular-girl-in-school Y/N?”

Vada tilted her head. “Uh, yeah?”

“Why the fu--” Nick was interrupted by a car honking at him. He threw his arm up in annoyance before starting to drive again, and Vada gulped as he stewed in his seat. “I can’t believe you went on a date with Y/N!”

“Why are you saying it like that?” Vada asked. She shifted, disliking the tension that was starting to fill the air. “You make it sound like a bad thing. I thought you’d be excited! I finally went on my first date with a girl! You’ve been waiting for this moment since the second I came out to you.”

“First of all, I’ve been waiting for this moment since the second I met you, because, baby, the closet is glass.” He took a hard right. The school loomed up ahead. “Secondly, I wanted you to go on a date with basically anyone other than Y/N.”

Vada furrowed her eyebrows. “I’m not that obviously bisexual.” Silence filled the car and she huffed, crossing her arms. “Fine, maybe I am. But why is going out with Y/N such a bad thing? She’s funny and cute and really smart. Basically, she’s perfect.”

“She’s not perfect, V,” Nick said, sitting up a little straighter as he pulled into the parking lot. “Haven’t you ever noticed that she’s got a new girl hanging off of her every month?” Vada’s stomach dropped, a sudden sense of anxiety flooding through her veins. “I mean, she goes through girls like you go through sugar.”

“No she doesn’t,” Vada tried, but her denial fell on deaf ears.

“She’s the biggest player this school has,” Nick said, leaning forward as he tried to pull into his designated parking spot. “She’s probably the biggest player in the damn county. She chases after a girl, stays with her for a few weeks, gets bored, and then does it all over again.” He turned to her as he shifted the gear into park. “Vada, she’s worse than John Tucker.”

“Are you seriously referencing a movie right now?” She scoffed and unbuckled her seatbelt. “She’s not like that.”

“Fine,” Nick conceded. “But when you get hurt, don’t say I didn’t warn you. She’s just in it for the chase.”

Vada clambered out of the car and pulled her backpack onto her shoulder. “And when we live happily ever after,” she started as she and Nick started to walk into the school, “I’ll say ‘I told you so’.”

He glanced at her before looking forward, his eyes widening. “...I’m not so sure about that one, V.”

She frowned and followed Nick’s line of sight, a sharp pain shooting through her at what she saw. You had your back pressed against your locker, trapped there by Stacey from Vada’s history class, who had her hand flat against the metal and was leaning close to you. Stacey was batting her eyelashes and giggling, and you were smiling along.

“Oh,” Vada said, voice quiet and small. She tore her eyes away and blinked hard, looking back up at Nick. “Well, I guess you were right.”

He offered her a pitiful smile. “I’m sorry, V. But, you should be glad you won’t be another girl stuck in her revolving door of girls.”

“Yeah,” she said, voice low and filled with sorrow. “So happy.”

Nick wrapped his arm around her shoulder, leading her toward his own locker. “Don’t be so sad. It’s for the best.”

Vada glanced away. “I just don’t get it. I mean, if she’s in it for the chase, then why is she flirting with another girl? Was I not good enough to chase?” She frowned. “Am I just too boring? Or do I talk too much?” She looked up at Nick. “Nick, be honest with me, do I talk too much? Could that turn someone off?”

“Yes,” he said simply, nodding his head. Vada huffed. He pulled away as the two reached his locker and focused on putting his combination into the lock. “Don’t think too far into it, though. I don’t think you wanna go through the pain of it anyway.” He shrugged and then hit the metal door when it wouldn’t open. “Stupid, old locker.” He glanced at her. “You’d just end up getting your heart broken.”

Vada sighed and leaned against the locker beside Nick’s, her shoulder pressing against the cool metal. “That’s dumb. And unfair. And not very nice.”

Nick’s locker door finally popped open. “Just ignore her from now on, okay?” He glanced at her and started to put his books into his locker. “Don’t talk to her, don’t text her, don’t even think about her. ‘Y/N Y/L/N who?’ That’s how you should be acting.”

She nodded hesitantly. “Okay. I guess I can do that.”

“Good.” He slammed the door shut. “Now let’s go to class.”

* * *

The first few periods rolled by smoothly. Vada had no classes with you until after lunch, and she didn’t even get a glimpse of you in the hallways. While part of her was still disheartened by your act, she also agreed with Nick’s words: it was probably for the best that she didn’t get tangled up with you.

That is, until she asked to use the bathroom during her science class, and upon walking inside, found you standing by the sinks, fixing your hair in the mirror. Almost immediately, your eyes landed on her figure through the reflection and you grinned, showing all your pearly-white teeth, before turning around to face her. Vada’s breath was practically sucked from her lungs as she stared at you.

“Vada! Hey!” you greeted, voice happy and excited.

It made Vada uncomfortable, how easily you were able to put on that mask. Nick’s voice rang in her head: Don’t talk to her. She bounced on the balls of her feet before promptly making the decision to hide in one of the stalls, slipping away from your field of vision without a word.

“Oh…kay…” she heard you say. There was the shuffling of your feet before she could see your shoes beneath the stall door. “Text me, okay? I had fun yesterday.” You turned and Vada listened as your footsteps receded.

When she knew she was finally alone, she let out the breath she had been holding and leaned forward, her forehead bumping against the metal of the stall.

“C’mon, Vada, get it together,” she mumbled. “She’s a player. She doesn’t want anything from you.” She clamped her eyes shut and shook her head. “She doesn’t want you.”

That was the mantra that repeated in her head for the entire day. It was what she heard when she saw you during lunch, waving at her from across the cafeteria. She reminded herself of it when you sat down beside her during English class and tried to make conversation, to which she entirely ignored you--it did hurt her heart a little when she saw your wide eyes and jutted out bottom lip when you realized she wouldn’t talk to you, but she tried to ignore that, too.

It all came to a head at the end of the day, when Vada was trying to pile as many of her books as she possibly could into her backpack. She was almost done when you sidled up beside her, a gleaming smile on your face and your hands tucked sheepishly in the back pockets of your jeans.

“Hey,” you said softly, like Vada was a scared animal that would run away.

She swallowed, half of her so desperately wanting to talk to you and ask why you would ask her out just to play with her, while the other half of her was set in her stubborn way of not speaking a word to you. The latter half won as she shut her locker door and walked away, but she couldn’t shake you.

You followed beside her, looking down at her as you walked. “I don’t know what happened between yesterday and today, or if you’re just having an off day or something, but I really did have fun on our date, and I’d like to take you on another one.”

She glanced up at you, unable to stop the quickening of her pulse. What if you were telling the truth? She shook her head, Nick’s words in her ear: Don’t even think about her.

Vada managed to lose you in the crowd of students all trying to exit the school at once, but she still heard your voice call over the sound of everyone else.

“I’ll text you then!”

Something about your determination made her want to melt right into your arms, but she stood up a little straighter and continued walking. You didn’t actually want her, she reminded herself. You just liked the chase.

* * *

After a night full of text messages from you that Vada never answered, she sauntered into school the next day with Nick by her side, completely set on avoiding you as much as she could. Unfortunately for both her and Nick, it seemed like you wanted to make that impossible.

The minute she passed through the front doors, you were walking beside her, a bouquet of flowers in hand. Vada glanced at them quickly, feeling butterflies stir in her stomach at the sight, but Nick slapped her on the hand, forcing her to keep her stoic face as she picked up the pace and tried to walk away.

“What, do you not like roses?” you asked, just a step behind the pair. You sounded dejected, defeated--some part of Vada felt bad; the other part thought ‘good. she should feel bad’. After a moment of silence from you, she heard the smallest, “Well, okay,” and when she looked over her shoulder, you were gone, the roses sticking out of the top of the nearest trash can. It was a depressing sight to see.

She sighed. “I feel kind of bad, Nick,” she admitted, and the boy shook his head.

“Don’t,” he said firmly. “She deserves to be humbled for once.” He scoffed. “She can’t just have anyone she wants and then throw them away when she gets bored because she’s pretty and popular. And she most certainly can’t do that to you.”

“But, yesterday she said that she had fun on our date and wants to go on another one. What if she was telling the truth? What if she actually likes me?”

Nick shook his head again. “It’s all part of her sick game. She wants you to fall for her, and then she’ll pull the rug right out from under you.” He patted Vada on the shoulder. “Trust me; she’s bad news.”

Vada glanced back over her shoulder again, and this time she found you in the same position as the day before--leaning back against your locker with Stacey standing in front of you, twirling a strand of her hair around her finger.

Your eyes flitted toward her for a split second, wide and forlorn, before they were focusing on Stacey again. You broke out into a grin, throwing your head back as you laughed.

“Right,” Vada grumbled, an ache forming in her chest and radiating throughout the rest of her body. “Bad news.”

* * *

The ‘bad news’ didn’t seem so bad anymore when, in the middle of English class, Vada was tapped on the shoulder by the boy behind her. When she twisted around to see what he wanted, he unceremoniously shoved a folded piece of paper in her direction, a scowl on his face as he waited for her to take it.

With furrowed eyebrows and a frown, Vada grabbed the paper and turned back in her seat, glancing up at her teacher to make sure he wasn’t watching as she unfolded the sheet.

Vada,

Thought I might try the old-fashioned way. Are you free on Friday night? The drive-in is showing The Princess Diaries, and I remember you saying you had a crush on Anne Hathaway. Wanna go together?

Y/N :)

Vada glanced toward the back of the room, where you had found yourself sitting that day, and saw you already looking at her, hope painting your face prettily. She cursed herself internally at the butterflies in her stomach as she looked back at the note you had sent forward. It was cute--she’d give you that--and she was tempted to say yes, but the image of Stacey flirting with you flitted through her mind, and that was enough for her to crumple the paper in her hand.

She didn’t look back at you.

* * *

The rest of the day passed without incident: you didn’t try to speak to her in the halls, and by the time she went to sleep, Vada hadn’t received a single text from you. Just before she drifted off for the night, she briefly thought that you had given up--perhaps you had grown so used to girls falling into your lap that chasing Vada was just too much energy that you didn’t want to use.

She was proven wrong when she woke up to a voicemail from you in the morning. You had called her late at night--the timestamp reading nearly three o’clock--and when Vada played the message aloud, your voice filling her room, shame bloomed in her stomach.

“Hey,” you started, your voice quiet and scratchy. “It’s me. Or, it’s Y/N. I--I don’t know if you’ve deleted my number or something. I just…Look, I know it hasn’t been long since our date, but…” You sighed, and Vada could hear the faintest sound of a sniffle. “The cold shoulder from you doesn’t feel great. I just wanna know where we stand. I had fun on Sunday. Uh, it’s okay if you didn’t. I just wish you would tell me.” You sniffled again. “I guess if you don’t answer this, that’s my answer. Yeah, okay. I’ll see you in school.”

Vada threw herself back into her pillows with a sigh. She ran a hand down her face, groaning. “Fuck,” she mumbled. “Fuck.” You sounded so sincere in the voicemail, but what if that were just another one of your ploys? What if you did this with every girl? What if—

“Bitch, why the fuck are you still in bed?” Nick asked as he burst into Vada’s bedroom.

She groaned again, throwing her legs up and down like a small toddler not getting their way. Her heart was pulling toward you, but her brain was trying to run away from you as fast as possible. She was torn, and she had no idea what to do.

Luckily for her, she was given more time to think than she had expected. You were absent that day, your missing presence a large hole in her day. There was no one to offer her flowers, or to try to pass her notes during class, or to wave at her in the cafeteria. As much as she hated admitting it to herself, she still liked you, and the lack of you carved a deep pit into her stomach.

That night, when there was still no sign of you--no texts or calls or even posts on any social media--she fell asleep with worry itching beneath her veins and guilt pricking at her chest.

The next morning wasn’t any better. Anxiety sat heavy like a rock in Vada’s stomach as she got ready, while Nick sang some random song in the car, when she walked through the parking lot and into school.

Her eyes immediately flitted toward your locker, a mixture of relief and sorrow surging through her at the sight of you standing there, alone, but with your head hung and your eyes trained on your feet. You were in sweatpants and a baggy hoodie. It was all completely unlike you.

“Nick,” she called, getting the boy’s attention. She subtly pointed at you. “Do you think she’s okay?”

He scoffed. “I’m sure her outfit just didn’t look as good in real life as it did in her head. What else does she have to worry about?”

Vada shrugged, her eyes still locked on you. You didn’t look up once.

* * *

It was at night that Vada’s worry had turned into all-out panic. Throughout the school day, you had avoided her like the plague, making sure to never interact with her. At one point, you had locked eyes with her down the hall and then swiftly spun on your heel and walked back in the direction you came from.

That, combined with getting absolutely no notifications from you, led her to a terribly easy decision as she stood from her bed, grabbed a hoodie, and lied to her mom that she was going to Nick’s house. She slipped out the front door, her pace quick as she rushed the few blocks to your house.

When she arrived, it was almost completely dark, save for the fluorescent light coming from your living room, where Vada had found herself just days before after you had taken her out to dinner.

With a hesitant hand, she knocked on your front door. It took only a few seconds before you appeared, looking completely unsurprised to see her.

“Vada,” you said softly, and she was immediately surrounded by the scent of alcohol on your breath. “What’re you doing here?”

Her eyebrows furrowed. “Are you…drunk? On a Thursday night?”

You shrugged. “So what if I am? What’re you doing here?” you repeated.

Pushing aside her concerns about your drinking habits, she asked, “Why did you stop?”

“Stop what?”

“Chasing me,” she said, like you should’ve known.

You forced out a dry laugh, tilting your head to the side. “You know, you’re a confusing girl.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means that you completely ignored all of my attempts to talk to you, and now you’re upset that I’ve stopped, even though it seemed like that’s what you wanted.” You narrowed your eyes. “Sounds kind of confusing, don’t you think?”

Vada swallowed, crossing her arms and shaking her head. “That’s not fair.”

“Not fair,” you muttered beneath your breath. “Okay. Sure. I was unfair to you.” You leaned back on your heels, your hand gripping the doorknob. “Now, if that’s all, then I’ll see you at school.”

You started to close the door, but something about your indifference made anger rise in Vada. “I just didn’t want to become a girl in your revolving door of girls!” she shouted.

You stilled, your eyes widening before glazing over. “Right. My revolving door of girls. That’s what everyone says, right?” Your voice was hollow, sad. Vada didn’t understand why.

“They say it because it’s true,” she huffed. Your posture fell and you glanced away, clenching your jaw. “You chase, you get, you grow bored.”

“That’s not true.” You looked at her, and faintly, she could see tears glossing your eyes. “That’s not…true. Those girls chase me; they use me; they leave me.” Your volume grew steadily, a sort of rage backing your words. “But since I’m the one factor that stays the same, everyone blames me. And it’s not--” You sighed. “It’s not true.”

You scoffed. “And you know what, I thought you might be the one person that didn’t believe what everyone else said. You seemed real, authentic, like you didn’t really give a shit about the crowd, Vada. That’s why I liked you, why I was trying. I thought you were your own person. But I was wrong. You’re just like the rest of the school.”

With all of the new information thrown at her, confusion and guilt and shame and hurt burning her, the only thing Vada managed to say was, “Oh.”

You nodded, glancing away. “Yeah. ‘Oh’. So, I’ll see you at school.”

When you shut the door, leaving Vada standing alone on your front porch, realization struck her like a tidal wave, and everything from the past few days came crashing down on her.

You didn’t chase. Or, at least, not until her.

“Shit.”

* * *

Vada (11:42pm): need ur help

Vada (11:42pm): 911

Mia (11:43pm): ???

Vada (11:43pm): help me ask Y/N out

Vada (11:43pm): ur her best friend. pls.

Mia (11:45pm): bro u fucked up big time

Mia (11:45pm): shes forgiving and all but…

Vada (11:45pm): mia pls

Mia (11:49pm): fine.

Mia (11:49pm): only b/c i know how much she likes u

Mia (11:49pm): dont fuck up again

Mia (11:50pm): heres what u should do

* * *

You didn’t show up to school again the next day, but it barely registered in Vada’s mind. She had already known beforehand that you wouldn’t be going--Mia had slipped her some ‘secret intel’ that your hangover had you sleeping the day away. Instead, she spent the hours mentally preparing herself, and as soon as the bell rang to signal the end of the day, she set her plan into motion.

At exactly six o’clock at night, Vada was standing at your front door again, a bouquet of flowers in one hand and her (Mia’s) car keys in the other. She knocked on the wood, waited, and when you pulled the door open, her words immediately pushed themselves out of her mouth.

“The drive-in is showing The Princess Diaries tonight, and I know you don’t like Anne Hathaway as much as I do, but I’d like to take you to see it.” She inhaled deeply and continued. “And I’d also like to apologize because I’ve been shitty to you these past few days, and I shouldn’t have listened to the rumors, and I should’ve just talked to you about it all, and I’m really sorry about everything that happened, and I just”--she gasped, her lungs stinging with lack of air, and kept going--“I really do like you, and I did have fun on our initial date, and I’m sorry. Can I take you to the drive-in?”

You blinked once, twice, before you raised a single brow. “What?”

Vada sighed. “The most important thing from all of that is that I’m sorry. I know I hurt you, and I know that can’t just go away, but I’d like the chance to make it up to you, if you’d let me.” She shoved the flowers in your direction. “Want to go see The Princess Diaries?”

You glanced down at the flowers, your bottom lip pulled between your teeth, and then took them from her. With the smallest and softest smile that made Vada’s knees buckles, you nodded.

“Okay.” Your face fell. “But on one condition.”

She nodded fervently. “Anything.”

You grinned. “Let’s get milkshakes after and talk.”

bonus: “like, how could you not have a huge crush on anne hathaway?” vada asked, her eyes glued to the big screen.

you hummed. “i’ve got my eye on someone else.”

when she looked at you, ready to argue about anne hathaway’s attractiveness, you were already staring at her, smiling. 

[yns-world]

lion & lioness

title: lion & lioness

pairing: erik killmonger x fem!reader

summary: erik takes the heart-shaped herb and sees his lost lover.

word count: 1k

warnings: reader death

a/n: i’m now taking requests for killmonger so feel free to send in your requests <3

As the new king of Wakanda, it is ritual for Erik to drink the essence of the heart-shaped herb and to speak with his ancestors. But as the searing power of the herb ran through his veins, he felt himself arriving at a place other than his childhood home. 

When he opened his eyes, Erik found himself at the edge of a lake, in a forest that he recognizes. The creatures of the night sang their songs-- crickets and insects chirped, the nocturnal birds trilled, and the wind lapped at the lake water. The night was full of life under the illuminating light of the full moon. 

Erik craned his head back to take in the sight of the moon. A soft breeze blew past Erik, and a scent caressed his nose-- a familiar scent. 

A moment later, Y/N materialized a few feet in front of him, wearing a sheer gown made of white silk. 

“My King.” Y/N beckoned, with a proud smile on her face. Erik’s eyes filled with a mix of love and heartbreak. He broke the distance and pounced on her, wrapping his arms around her in a bone-crushing embrace. 

His tears were seeping through her translucent gown, and Y/N ached at the sight of his pain. 

Y/N pulled back just enough to see his face. When she cupped his cheeks with her hands, he noticed that they were not cold, but they held the same warmth that they always did when she was still with him. This fact only made him cry more. 

“You’ve come so far, N’Jadaka. You’ve done it.” 

It was true, their whole lives were spent fighting for this one moment-- the moment where Erik was crowned king of Wakanda; where he was revered as the true Black Panther. 

But before he was the Black Panther, they were Lion & Lioness. Hearts and souls bound as one.  

“I need you by my side.” Desperation laced Erik’s voice, his eyes pleading with her.

“As long as the moon is out, I am with you.” She momentarily took her eyes off him to gaze up at the moon, and the moon reflected in her wide eyes. 

Erik’s expression shifted from one of despair to one of bitterness.

This was injustice-- his whole life was an act of injustice-- and Erik swore to avenge each and every action done to him, starting with burning the sacred garden of the heart-shaped herb.

Y/N knew that face, she knew exactly what it meant when Erik’s eyebrows furrowed and his usual scowl deepened.

“If you burn those flowers, you cut off our connection.” 

Immediately, Erik felt a moment of pain that he would feel if he did burn those flowers-- it was scorching pain, like someone took a rod of fire and ran it through his chest before dragging it down his torso and cutting him in half. But that was only the start of the pain, what came next was indescribably worse.

After the initial wave of hell, he was left hollow. He was an empty shell of a man.

He did not remember happiness. He could not recall love. 

He couldn’t even remember the original reason for why he became king in the first place. 

In that single, simulated moment, Erik was no longer himself. He was merely a ghost. 

The feeling washed over him as quickly as it came and he was brought back to the present-- his arms around Y/N as she stared into his eyes, experiencing every emotion with him. 

Erik was silent, but he knew better than to burn those flowers. He wouldn’t dare cut off a connection like theirs.

“Secondly, your heir…” Y/N’s words trailed off and she brought a hand to her stomach. Erik’s eyes followed her hand and was stunned. He gently kneeled in front of her, and placed his hand over her stomach. He pressed a kiss on the baby bump.

He then got back up, asking how many months she had left.

“Soon.” Y/N smiled a bit wider when she saw Erik’s impatient expression. 

Before he could get another word in, Y/N gave Erik a chaste kiss on his cheek.

“Good luck, N’Jadaka. Your story is only beginning.”

---

Erik’s body shot up, his chest heaving as he attempted to regulate his breathing. 

---

Months would pass since that night and there was a significant shift in Erik’s ruling. What was once a war-hungry dog, has now turned into a protector of his nation. 

But recently, something has been eating away at Erik. A gnawing feeling was twisting and churning every moment he was alone. He was restless at night and was suffering from insomnia. 

It was another night in a string of sleepless-nights, but this time he was called to the window. Erik looked up at the indigo sky, a full moon gazed back at him.

Tonight was one year since Y/N’s passing. 

Erik closed his eyes and bowed his head towards the moon. 

“Rest easy, my Queen.”

When he opened his eyes, he witnessed a shooting star race across the sky-- it flew across the moon and seemed to be inching closer and closer towards the castle.

Erik’s body acted before his brain could catch up and he bolted down to the castle entrance.

Outside the entrance sat a baby wrapped in white silk. Erik picked up the swaddled baby and recognized the texture of the cloth immediately-- it was the same cloth Y/N wore when he last saw her. 

Holding up the baby in the moonlight, Erik was able to see the striking resemblance to Y/N.

As he was admiring the baby, a name was whispered in his ear.

Leona. 

And that was what the heir to the Wakandan throne was called. 

Leona Stevens; Lion at heart; born of royal blood. 

The next day, the royal courts would rejoice at this news. The elders were not appalled by the appearance of this heir, they were rather fascinated that they have lived long enough to see this phenomenon happen in front of their very eyes. 

Kings come and go, but nothing could ever dispute Erik’s bloodright of being king since he has been gifted by the gods with an heir. 

Leona’s birth would be celebrated for the next week. She would be revered as the Snow Leopard, for her rare birth and the even rarer occurrence of having an heir blessed by Bast herself.

“Leona!” Wakanda chanted. “Daughter of King N’Jadaka and Queen Y/N; Princess Leona, the Snow Leopard!”

a/n: if you enjoyed reading, please consider reblogging and tipping, that supports me and my account more than likes :)

DON’T BE A GHOST READER!!!!! let me know your thoughts, opinions, ideas, etc in the comments!!! i love talking with y’all <3

i’m open to requests! free feel to request, just make sure to read my pinned post for request rules <3

[soapyghostie]

Hey! Absolutely random request, but imagine reader being a tired person that out of wounds and stress they just fall asleep when they're being carried, about to go on a hook. How would the dbd killers(any, really) react?

Like, imagine. Being carried, without anything under legs can already make someone sleepy if they don't have adrenaline pumped through their veins. Plus, i know that having wounds(aka blood loss) can make people very tired.

Since this request it a little vague, I decided to get a little creative with it and wrote some angst because I’m a sucker for angst with dad slashers (except Frank is your big brother in this request). 😭 Hope you enjoy!

The Ghost Face/Danny Johnson

Danny would be confused at first, bloodlust still kicking through his veins even after killing all our teammates as he carries you, his injured daughter, to the hook (Sorry (Y/N), he’s just doing his job. No hard feelings). He’ll pause for a moment, trying to process the fact that you feel asleep on his shoulder.

As he realizes that you fell asleep due to exhaustion and stress from your wounds, Danny’s demeanor would soften and his parental instincts within him kicks in. He’ll gently adjust you in his arms from being thrown over his shoulder to being carried bridal style, ensuring that you’re comfortable even as he still proceeds to hook you. 

Seeing you in such a vulnerable state would stir up a lot of internal conflict in Danny. He’s torn between his role as a merciless killer and his love for you as his daughter as he hesitates to sacrifice you to the Entity. Danny’s had a lot of bad performances in trials lately and he really needs the 4K. However, to get the 4K he needs to sacrifice you. Of course it has to be you: the Entity is so cruel. 

As to not get punished by the Entity, sadly, Danny will throw you onto the hook. Danny would feel a pang of remorse and sadness. He knows that he’s the cause of your pain and exhaustion, and seeing you in such a vulnerable state serves as a painful reminder of the life he’s subjected you to. He silently reflects on his actions and their consequences. He’ll gaze at your sleeping form dangling from the hook, grappling with the complexities of his emotions and the choices he made. 

Despite his conflicted emotions, Danny remains committed to his role in the Entity’s twisted game. However, Danny’s determination to protect you remains unwavering. He’ll play the Entity’s game and continue this dark path as a killer if it means to ensure your safety as he doesn’t want you to be harmed as a result of his shortcomings… 

The Legion/Frank Morrison

Frank would be initially shocked and panicked to see you, his younger sister, in such a vulnerable state. Despite his tough ‘bad boy’ exterior, he deeply cares about you and seeing you hurt triggers his protective instincts. 

The sight of you falling asleep from exhaustion and stress while carrying you to the hook fills Frank with anger and frustration. He’ll curse under his breath, feeling powerless to protect you and frustrated with the situation at hand. First off, your god damn heavy after going unconscious and, secondly, he has no choice but to hook you due to the amount of failed trials he’s had lately to try and please the Entity. 

Despite his anger, Frank, also like Danny, would feel a sense of inner conflict. On one hand, he wants to lash out at the Entity for throwing her into a trial with him, but on the other hand, he knows he has to get the 4K by hooking you so you end up safe and sound at the survivor camp instead of the agony the Entity threatened to put you through if he didn’t start stepping it up in trials. You’re the reason he has the strength to keep going in this awful, twisted game of cat and mouse. 

Frank would grapple with the feeling of guilt and responsibility for your condition. As your older brother, he feels entitled to preventing you from getting hurt in the first place and blames himself for everything that has happened to you. Despite his conflicting emotions, he would carefully and gently place you on the hook, making sure you're as comfortable as possible given the circumstances. As he watches you sleep on the hook, Frank would have a quiet moment of reflection. He reminisces about y’all’s childhood together and vows silently to himself to do whatever it takes to keep you safe. 

Seeing you vulnerable would only fuel Frank’s determination to perform better in trials. He would be even more relentless in his pursuit of survivors, driven by the desire to protect you from the Entity’s hungry claws. 

The Shape/Michael Myers

Michael would pause, a flicker of confusion crossing his expressionless face. The sight of you, his daughter, falling asleep despite the dire circumstances briefly disrupts his usual relentless pursuit to satisfy his murderous desires. 

Deep within his obscured psyche, a conflict brews. While Michael is driven by an insatiable urge to kill, his parental instincts stir, conflicting with his murderous impulses. This momentary hesitation leads to a brief internal struggle, the likes of which observers of Michael would never perceive. 

Despite the task at hand and the chaos of the trial, Michael momentarily freezes, holding your unconscious body with an eerie stillness. His iconic breathing momentarily ceases, as if he too, like Danny and Frank, were contemplating the peculiar situation. 

In a rare display of tenderness, Michael gingerly adjusts your position, ensuring that you're comfortable even as he prepares to hook you. His movements would be precise, almost caring, as if he’s trying to shield you from further harm, even in your unconscious state. As he gazes upon your sleeping form, fragments of memories flicker through Michael’s mind. Images of you as a child, innocent and untouched by the darkness that now envelopes you both, momentarily soften his gaze, perhaps even cause a subtle twitch at the corners of his mouth – a long-forgotten smile. You are his world. 

Ultimately, the weight of his desire to kill and the futility of his attempts to connect with you wash over Michael. With a heavy heart hidden beneath his iconic mask, he proceeds with the task at hand – sacrificing you to the Entity. With a solemn determination, Michael carries you to the hook, his obsession with killing eclipsing any semblance of any paternal sentiment.

[carlsdarling]

HEAR ME OUT (up to you!!)

Part 4 to no mercy where they had the baby and they can actually resume to being rough and negan is just being an overprotective grandpa😭😭

No Mercy Part IV

Carl and Y/N have their son and are finally back to enjoying rough sex after a jealousy drama with Enid. Everyone is 18 or over.

WARNINGS: smut, nsfw, slightly violent sex (consensual)

After your and Carl's son Jamie was born, you had moved out of Rick and Michonne's household and had been assigned your own house in Alexandria. By now Jamie was three months old and you and Carl still hadn't resumed your sex life; mostly you were too tired because of the baby, you were still breastfeeding, plus you were still showing your pregnancy and that affected you because you were unsure if Carl would still find your naked body attractive. There were veins on your legs that hadn't been there before, and your stomach was softer and less firm than before, and milk came out of your breasts at the slightest touch.

Carl was on guard duty and you were taking care of Jamie and tidying the house. You decided to do some laundry.

You froze as you emptied the laundry basket from the bathroom. There was something red dangling from the pocket of one of Carl's jeans. You pulled it out and frowned at it: it was a thong, and it wasn't yours. Jealousy seized you painfully, because you immediately had a hunch who the owner of the panties was: Enid. The thong had a golden butterfly embroidered on the top edge, and you had seen it often enough over the hem of Enid's jeans.

Enid had also made no secret of how angry she was that Carl had ended the relationship with her after you returned to Alexandria and revealed to Carl that you were pregnant by him. She didn't respect Carl's relationship with you and took every opportunity to try to sabotage you. She kept stalking Carl somewhere and trying to change his mind; to get him to leave you and get back together with her. There had already been several bitter arguments between you and Carl about this. Carl swore he was no longer interested in Enid, but Enid just wouldn't give up, and apparently she had succeeded. It hurt so much.

You stifled your tears and quickly stuffed the panties into your own pants pocket as you heard footsteps approaching the bathroom, then your father Negan appeared in the doorway. Ever since Jamie was born, Negan had been paying you regular visits - much to Rick's annoyance. But Negan was completely in love with his grandson. Even now, he carried Jamie in his arms. "Jamie can already turn himself around," he announced proudly, as if this was his achievement. "He'll be a leader one day. He'll be just like me."

You preferred not to comment on it - firstly, Negan wasn't going to change his mind anyway, and secondly, you had other things on your mind. Your father seemed to pick up on your bad mood, and he looked at you inquiringly, asking what was wrong.

"Nothing, I'm just tired," you mumbled and gathered up the dirty laundry to put it in the washing machine. On your way to the basement, you saw a silhouette on the porch, you pulled back the curtains on the front door and recognized Enid, so you dropped the laundry to yank the door open. "What do you want?" you asked rudely. You would have liked to scratch her eyes out, but it wasn't her who had betrayed you, it was Carl.

Enid tilted her head and smiled sweetly. "Is Carl here?"

"No," you replied dismissively. "He's on guard duty."

"Oh, it's just... He left this at my place recently." With an innocent face, Enid handed you one of Carl's boxers.

There were a few telltale stains on the light blue fabric. Your face turned red with anger and pain. Carl hadn't had these underwear for long, so he couldn't have forgotten them during his relationship with Enid. And then there were the red undies in his pocket! The evidence was clear. Enid was obviously hoping for a reaction from you, but you didn't want to give her the satisfaction, so you grabbed the boxers and slammed the door in Enid's face. Now you couldn't stop hot tears from running down your cheeks.

Negan heard you crying. "Tell me what's going on, Y/N," he demanded angrily. "What did that girl want?" Then he spotted the boxers in your hand and put one and one together. "Are these Carl's?" he asked sharply, reaching for them. You nodded. Negan's expression darkened menacingly as he eyed the stains on the fabric. "So Carl's cheating on you. That little bastard; I'm going to kill him," he threatened.

"No, do not get involved," you ordered brusquely. "Please take the baby carriage and go for a long walk with Jamie." Carl would be home soon and you wanted to talk to him alone - even if there wasn't really anything more to discuss.

When Carl entered the house a little later, sweaty, dirty and exhausted, you were waiting for him with teary eyes and arms folded across your chest. When he tried to hug you to say hello, you pushed him away. "What's wrong?" he asked, puzzled.

"You're the one asking?" you shouted at him and threw the red thong and his stained boxer shorts to his feet. "You're cheating on me! You are a liar and a cheater!"

Carl looked completely taken aback. "What?" he asked confused and bent down to grab the underwear. He held up the red slip. "I've never seen this before," he said, confused. "What does that mean?"

"Oh, don't play dumb, Carl! You're cheating on me with Enid!" you accused him. "These are Enid's panties, and they were in the pocket of one of your jeans!"

"But that isn't possible," Carl claimed, ruffling his hair. "I swear I've never seen those panties before and I'm not cheating on you!"

"Oh yeah? And why did Enid just come by and bring your boxers that you left at her place after you fucked her? Those are yours, aren't they?" You pointed your finger accusingly at the boxers.

Carl picked it up and inspected it. "Yes, it is," he admitted. "But I don't know how Enid got hold of them, I..."

"Stop lying to me!" you shouted. "Enid had your underwear! And there are cum stains on them! The case is very clear!"

Carl turned red with embarrassment. "I can explain about the stains," he mumbled ashamedly. "It's... the thing is, we haven't had sex since Jamie was born, and... and I... I still have needs, and that's why..."

"That's why you fucked your ex," you said coldly. "Great, Carl."

"No!" protested Carl outraged. "Why won't you let me speak? I wanted to say that... well, I have no choice but to pleasure myself at the moment. I was on guard duty alone recently and... well... I thought of you, and then I... and I didn't have a tissue to clean myself afterwards, and that's where the stains in my underwear come from." With bright red cheeks, Carl looked down at his feet.

"Bullshit!" you snarled. "None of this explains how Enid got hold of your underwear."

"But I don't know that either," Carl tried to defend himself. "Any more than I can explain Enid's panties being in my pocket! All I know is that I tossed both the jeans and the boxers in our laundry basket! Last week already!"

"I don't believe you," you cried.

Carl held out his hands to you, looking desperate. "Please, Y/N, I love you, I would never cheat," he pleaded. "Enid's just jealous, she orchestrated this somehow."

The doorbell rang. "We'll continue talking in a minute," Carl promised and opened the door.

Michonne stood on the threshold. She looked suspiciously from one to the other. "What's going on here? Are you two fighting?" Carl sighed and gave a censored version of events. He left out the part about the stains in his underwear. Michonne frowned. "That's strange," she mused, "because a few days ago, on Monday, I saw Enid come out of your house. From the back door, to be precise. You weren't home, and when I asked her what she was doing in your house, she looked caught off guard and claimed she'd just wanted to return some comics to Carl."

"But I hadn't lent her any comics, and there weren't any comics there either," Carl said immediately. "Enid must have gone into our bathroom to steal my underwear and put her panties in my pocket," he stated angrily. "She wants to break Y/N and me up. That bitch!"

"I want to hear it from Enid herself," you insisted. But on the day in question, you had been home before Carl, and you hadn't actually noticed any comics anywhere.

"Let's go to her and confront her," Michonne suggested. "I can confirm that she was in your house."

The three of you went to Enid's house. Enid grinned gleefully at first when she saw your tear-stained face, but when she spotted Michonne, she suddenly looked panicked. Michonne spoke up. "So, Enid, spill the beans," Michonne said angrily. "What were you really doing at Y/N's and Carl's house a few days ago?"

"I...it was like I said...the comics..." stuttered Enid.

"That's a lie," Carl cut her off, upset. "I didn't lend you any comics."

"Yes, you did," Enid contradicted stubbornly. "You just don't remember."

" Oh really? What comics were they, and where did you put them?" Michonne questioned.

"I... I..." stammered Enid. "On the stairs," she then said.

"But I was home before Carl on Monday, and there were definitely no comics on the stairs," you replied.

"Then... then I put them somewhere else, I can't remember exactly..." Enid squirmed.

"Just admit that you wanted to cause trouble between Carl and Y/N," Michonne demanded angrily. "You could have given the comics back to Carl at any time without going to his house, that's a lie, Enid. I'll tell you what you actually did. You rummaged around in their laundry basket and put your panties in Carl's jeans pocket, and you stole one of his boxers. All to pretend that Carl was sleeping with you and cheating on Y/N. That is so vile, Enid. They have a kid together. Don't make it worse, admit it."

Enid blushed crimson and clenched her fists. "All right, yes, that's how it was!" she hissed, "But it's not fair! Carl should be with me, not her! He just ditched me when Y/N came back and announced she was pregnant! Even though she left Carl without a word!"

"That's not true," you said furiously. "I was sent back to my dad all of a sudden! I didn't even get to say goodbye to Carl! I didn't want to go, I didn't leave him voluntarily!"

Enid didn't respond. "And who knows if your brat is even Carl's? Probably not! You foisted it on him! I'm sure you've fucked several guys!"

Carl stepped forward, his teeth clenched. "That's enough now, Enid," he growled. "You apologize to Y/N right now!"

"'Forget it, I only had your best interests at heart, Carl. She's not good enough for you," Enid raged, slamming the door, but you didn't care if she apologized or not anyway - it had been proven that Carl hadn't been unfaithful to you, and you didn't care about anything else.

You and Carl returned home. Negan was still out with Jamie. As soon as you closed the door behind you and realized the two of you were alone, Carl grabbed you roughly by the wrist, kicked off his shoes and dragged you up the stairs to your shared bedroom, where he pushed you onto the bed and began to undress. "Carl!" you protested, "What..."

"Shut up," he said impatiently. "I want you now." He carelessly tossed his flannel and shirt aside and undid his belt, then unbuttoned his jeans and pulled them down and off, along with his boxer shorts. His cock sprang free, hard as a rock and the tip glistening with precum, veins protruding. The sight and scent of it made you tingle with excitement.

You tried to get up from the bed, but Carl immediately pushed you back and pressed you into the pillows, hastily fumbling with your clothes. "Carl, I'm sure my dad will be right back with Jamie, and I really don't feel like it, it's too soon, I'm still breastfeeding, and..."

Carl leaned forward and bit lightly into your neck, then sucked hard and left a hickey. "I don't care," he murmured, his voice hoarse with excitement. "It's been months since I've been able to fuck you. I can't take it anymore. And I don't care if your body has changed. I miss you, Y/N." He tugged at your clothes, dropping them on the floor beside the bed and ripping your lacy panties in his hurry; he held your wrists together above your head with his left hand and spread your thighs with his right. Carl was so needy that he wasted no time with foreplay, he slid his glans over your clit and the opening of your pussy a few times, then pushed his hard shaft into you, moaning.

You let out a soft cry of pain as Carl's dick suddenly stretched your walls, you weren't used to his size anymore and you weren't ready at all, but at the same time, it felt so amazing. It was so intense to finally be intimate with Carl again.

Carl forced himself to wait a moment for you to relax, then he let go of your wrist and began to thrust hard and fast. "There you go," he gasped. "You're getting wet."

You promptly slapped him across the face. "How dare you just fuck me?" you hissed.

Carl grabbed your throat and gave it a quick squeeze that made you black out for a few seconds. "'Slap me again and I'll turn you on your stomach and take you from behind so you won't be able to walk for days," he whispered. "I'll fuck you whenever, however and whereever I want. Remember? Got it?"

Excited to the extreme, you caught your breath as Carl took his hand off your neck; it was true, you were reacting to him as you always had: With every second he was inside you, the wetness between your legs increased. You began to whimper and moan, digging your fingernails into Carl's back. "Oh my god, Carl. You're so good." You put a hand on his firm butt, feeling the motion of his muscles as he thrusted into you.

Carl propped himself up on his elbows and pulled out of you for a moment. He licked off the milk that had leaked from your breasts and sucked and nibbled a little on your nipples. His cock was dripping wet with the fluid from your pussy, even his pubic hair and the area up to his belly button were wet and slippery. "Look how horny you are for me, Y/N," Carl whispered, grinning naughtily.

"Put it back in," you moaned, writhing on the bed. "Please, Carl."

Carl did you the favor, penetrated you again and increased the speed and intensity of his thrusts. Your pussy was on fire, throbbing, you wrapped your legs around Carl's hips, only now realizing how much you had missed having sex with Carl. The room was filled with both of you moaning, sighing and the wet sounds your bodies were making.

"Cum with me," Carl gasped; pounding even faster, unable to hold back any longer. The orgasm swept over you like a hot tsunami, you screamed out, arched your back and buried your teeth into Carl's left shoulder as your muscles spasmed. Carl shot his load into you, collapsing on top of you, quivering with arousal and exertion. You both were totally breathless, Carl's heart beating hard right next to yours. His weight pressed you deep into the mattress, and you languidly stroked his back. You both enjoyed the afterglow, you kissed and looked deep into each other's eyes. "I love you," Carl whispered. "Only you, Y/N. Just you and me, no one else."

"I love you too, Carl." You feathered kisses on his neck and on the red teeth marks you'd left on his shoulder.

After a while, Carl lay down next to you and you snuggled together under the covers, exhausted, sweaty and happy. "Y/N? Are you home?" you suddenly heard Negan's voice. Before you could react, he appeared in the bedroom entrance and stared perplexed at the scene before him - you and Carl in bed in the middle of the day, the smell of sex in the air and your clothes scattered all over the floor. Negan cleared his throat sheepishly. "I'm... glad to see that things seem to have gotten sorted out between you," he mumbled, rubbing his chin, preferring to retreat to the living room.

Carl looked at you mischievously and you both burst out laughing.

--

Tags: @knochentrocken0808 @taylormarieee @xxcarlswifexx @tessasweet @richardsamboramylove55

(Sorry that this took so long. I was simply never completely content with the fic)

[charlesslut16]

-a second chance-

summary : max let you go years ago but then he sees you again after many years, his feeling come back up, and he tries for a second chance...

PAIRING : max verstappen x reader

WARNING : a bit toxic!max

note : Firstly thank you all for the birthday wishes on Thursday. You are all so amazing and i'm so thankful. And secondly HAPPY BIRTHDAY MAX!

masterlist 

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

It hurts like hell when you know that you needed to let go of someone, but you can't, because you're still waiting for the impossible to happen.

************************************************************************

You were running till the point max, never believed you would ever stop. And max could not stop himself from following you. His heart almost sank to his feet, as he saw you.

Looking so beautiful. So perfect. After all these years…

You took a curve, the panic in you leading you, as max panicked, thinking he lost you. Again. Max couldn't take it. He wouldn't: Max ran faster until he believed to collapse.

He was starstruck as he saw you again. It was as if he felt all his feelings for you again. And it made his heart ache. You were are his everything. And now that he finally has you back, he won't let you go that easily.

And then, he finally saw you. His beautiful, special, one in a million girl. On the ground, clutching your arms around your knees to stop yourself from shaking too much. 

Max began to shake with his entire body, fear of speaking to you after all those painful years that overtook him. Angst of losing you again, even though max never got you back, streamed through his blood.

He tripped over a small rock on a ground, your head shot up into his direction, your eyes wide and red from the tears you shed. But max does not stop approaching you.

Instead, max dropped to his knees in front of you, his hands already having the urge to reach for you. But he knew you weren't ready for that. You might never be. And it crushed max into pieces.

“What are you doing here, max?” You words weak, but your voice was a melody in his ear. He had missed you with every fiber of his being and the entirety of his damned heart.

“I'm sorry, mijn engel” he whispered so lightly that you almost couldn't hear him. “I'm so sorry” my angel

You shook you hear, tears he knew he was the cause for, left trails down your cheeks.

“Go.” you spit venomously. Another tear falling down your wet cheeks.

 “It's what you do best anyway, isn't it?” Max pressed his lips together, the urge to touch not leaving.

“I can't” Max croaked, sounding like an idiot. A humorless laugh escaped your cold, plump lips. You couldn't understand why. He had done it before, so why couldn't he do it again?

“Why?” your question was hard, bound with anger reserved for Max Verstappen only. Max was at a loss for words when your eyes connected with his. No sparks between the two of you.

Max Verstappen was drowning in the blue, drowning in the sight of you in front of him. A sight for sore eyes. 

“Because I can't let you go.” Max finally whispered. 

“Stop with this nonsense, max Emilian!” you snapped, your voice filled with anger and frustration.

“You let me go when you left four years ago!”

But Max shook his head firmly, his eyes never leaving yours.

“I did not. I couldn't. I wanted to, but that was before I knew you were EVERYTHING I needed to take a proper breath. You are the sun in the morning when I wake up and the moon when I sleep. You have consumed me whole.”

Max sounded helpless as he admitted his feelings. His true feelings. 

“It's like you are flowing through my veins. You are and always will be EVERYTHING to me! And I can't. Let. You. Go.”

Some people are meant to fall in love with each other… but not meant to be together. And maybe the two of you were never meant to begin with.

[holybibly]

Hello~~ I've previously asked anonymously but I wanna send pics and gifs, so I'm uncovering my identity batman style to lose my mind over Seonghwa 🤭🫣

Like what?? 😭😭

This man man makes me lose my mind so bad, like every picture I see of him just flips a switch in my brain and suddenly *I'm* the rabid wolf chasing after a pretty bunny

I feel like he'd maybe try to be really dominant at first but would so easily let himself be flipped and ruined, I wanna blow this man's mind fr

This picture even has his hands in the perfect position to tie them up ahsjshshsj someone take my internet away please 😭😭

Firstly, hi baby, good to see you. Secondly, should I even mention that I have been drooling over him on a daily basis? God, I think the Ateez have ruined my mind just a little bit. Third, I'm going to go and make that damn fic with the cute hybrid Hwa. So we can all (I really hope) quench our thirst for the whining, submissive, and subservient Seonghwa. God, I fucking need this. I am needy and not ashamed.

In the meantime, I give you this. Have fun, my brave bunny.

"God, why must you be so beautiful? Is that fair?" You coo, running your thumb over the sugary brown flesh of his nipple. He twitches at the touch—too sensitive. "Too beautiful, annoying."

Seonghwa's arms are lifted and tied to the bed frame with silk ribbons, leaving him helpless and writhing as you deny him his second orgasm of the night, bringing him to the brink of pleasure before you withdraw. He lets out a soft, needy whimper as he is unable to make any other sounds.

He looks lost in his pleasure, his pupils dilating so that only a small ring of iris can be seen, his sensuous lips parted, and his chest rising and falling in small breathless sighs.

"Oh, darling, you sound so anxious. Don't you want to cum already, my beautiful boy?" Your teasing elicits another moan from Seonghwa as you delicately run your fingernail along the bulging vein on his cock. He twitches in response.

Overstimulated, Seonghwa closes his big, shining eyes and pushes his hips into your hand, hoping to feel some kind of friction. You chuckle weakly and lower yourself to kiss his beautiful, sensitive cock. As you blow on his dripping, reddened head, you hear another pitiful whimper from him.

Teasing him is one of your favourite things to do in the whole of the world. He melts so easily and submits to the sweet torture. It is too beautiful to ignore. You just want to eat him whole. Sue you for that.

Your soft tongue traces the same vein as your long fingernail did a few moments ago; pre-cum flows freely down his shaft, and you lap it up hungrily. Sweet. Covering his cock completely with your lips, you slowly lower your head down, a movement that you know will drive him crazy, but it's not enough to make him come. This only serves to make Seonghwa even more desperate.

"Please, I can't stand it anymore." He's got this wonderful voice; you could listen to it for hours when he's at his peak.

He lifts his hips, begging you to take him deeper into your hot, wet mouth, but instead he gets slapped lightly. Forcing him to stay still under your care, your hands rest on his hips. In an agonisingly slow motion, you slide down the length of his cock until your nose is pressed against his pubic bone. You simply suck him into your mouth, warming him up and trying not to add any extra stimulation with your tongue.

His high is rising again. You can feel the tension in his lithe, elegant body. The sound of his lingering, unsatisfied moans is suspiciously quiet as he tries to hold himself back. Admiring his delicious, high-pitched moan of utter frustration, you remove your lips from his cock with a pop.

"My sweet, handsome boy." You're just mocking him; it's a little sadistic of you, but who allowed Seonghwa to be so handsome? All your actions are completely justified. "You've been such a good boy to me, Hwa. Are you ready for your reward?"

He nods feverishly; his long hair is spread all over the pillow, and he looks so wonderful in your eyes. You reach out and untie his hands, kissing his chest on the way and leaving a couple of hickeys.

"Seonghwa, this is your wish, isn't it? I need words, my beautiful." You whisper in his ear as you untie his numb hands.

"Yes, I do... I really want my reward." He breathes out.

"What do you need, baby? Tell me what your wish is." He's so unbelievably cute when he's winded. He pauses for a second, thinking about what he wants, and you gently rub his wrists where they were bound with the silk.

"I want you so badly, please." He pulls you by your hips so that you straddle him, gently stroking your curves with his graceful, thin palms. Seonghwa reaches up to kiss you, his plump, wet lips capturing yours in a passionate kiss before you feel his cock enter you.

You let him do whatever he wants to you, but you lean down and put your hands on his shoulders to help balance you, whispering again.

"Come on, my beauty, fuck me good."

[darkmajesty-xo]

the spark between us pt.1

18+ MDNI| himbo!kaminari , cherrychaser!shinsou, nerdy!reader

this was an absolute disaster.

out of all the students in your soc theory class, the professor had paired you with none other than denki fucking kaminari.

why is this such a big deal ?

for starters, he’s an idiot. there isn’t an intelligent thought going on in that pretty blonde head. the only reason he was even enrolled at Yuuei University was athletics. he was set to go pro but the league required at least three years of college before an athlete could be drafted. school was literally a placeholder for him until he was able to do what he really wanted.

secondly, it would be extremely difficult to be partnered with this beautiful idiot because you had the hugest crush on him.

what’s not to like about kaminari ? he’s handsome, funny and charismatic—undeniably one of the most popular guys in school. a super bubbly, “life of the party, attitude that was the complete opposite of your shy, reserved nature.

he was also taken, so that ruined your chances of anything happening if you were even his type to begin with. as far as you knew, he’d never spared you a second glance. so, why was he walking over to your lunch table with his boyfriend in tow.

you knew shinsou a little better than kaminari—he was the son of your favorite professor and you had a couple classes together. on a few occasions he’d lean over to ask for the date or a spare pencil. and it definitely made your heart race when he’d whisper “thanks, kitty” , referring to your favorite headband, and wink before turning around.

okay, so maybe you had a crush on both of them but that made things even more difficult!

“hey, yn!” kaminari shouted as he approached.

god, he was so loud. half the cafe turned to look in your direction. you sunk in your seat silently praying that the ground would swallow you hole.

“helloooo— earth to yn. anybody home?”

he was getting closer and there was absolutely no way out of this, so you gave a small wave as he slid into the booth across from you. shinsou opted to sit next to you, throwing his long arm behind your head.

“hey, kitty. funny meeting you here” he smirked lazily, reaching into your lunch tray to pop one of the fries in his mouth.

“h-hi shinsou. hi k-kaminari” you replied, looking down at your fingernails. eye contact wasn’t your strong suit and it was especially intimidating with the two of them.

kaminari didn’t seem to notice. “no need to be so formal—all my friends call me kami or denki!”

“we’re not friends…” you mutter, sparing a glance at the blonde while chewing at your fingertips. seeing his pout made you immediately regret your words.

“ouch, sparky. sucks to be you” shinsou teases, taking another fry to throw at his boyfriend.

“dick” kaminari scoffs, before glancing back at you. there was the briefest moment that his honey brown eyes met your own before snapping back down. interesting, he thought to himself. “well, we may not be friends yet but i promise to win you over if you give me a chance ! whaddya say partner?”

he extends his hand for you to shake. they’re pale and pretty. with long veins popping out of the flesh and black painted fingernails. your mind flashes to thoughts of them caressing your body—would they be soft and smooth or rough and calloused ?

you knawed at your lip in contemplation. it wouldn’t hurt to try and be friends— you did have to work together anyway. and it would be nice to have someone to talk to outside of schoolwork. if you could manage to string together more than two sentences.

you dare glance up at his honey brown orbs for the briefest of moments before settling on his pouty lips.

“ohkay, k-kami” his lips curl into a smile as you extend your hand to meet his. static electricity courses through your fingertips causing you to yelp and pull back.

“looks like you two have chemistry” shinsou purrs, lazily fingering the tip of your cat eared headband.

kaminari looks at his boyfriend incredulously.

“no bro, i told you we have sociology!”

you and shinsou groan in unison. “whaaaat?” kaminari whines making you giggle. shinsou squeezes your shoulder and smirks down at you and heat immediately floods your face.

this is going to be a long semester.

[aniharas]

𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘴 𝘴𝘶𝘤𝘬 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘪𝘯

pairing: anakin skywalker x jedi!fem!reader

summary: in the soul-shattering aftermath of geonosis, anakin finds solace in forbidden affection, risking everything for a stolen moment under the moonlight.

warnings: angst, ptsd, trauma, phantom pains. anakin just needs a hug.

wc: 4k+ oneshot

a/n: this is mainly written from anakin's pov and detailing his thoughts. i was just craving an angst fest don't mind me. likes and reblogs deeply appreciated :) inbox is open! enjoy &lt;3

The light-polluted nights of Coruscant were not very kind to the Chosen One.

It was becoming a ritual: stirring at the latest hour in a sweat in the night. Almost an hourly occurrence. Poor Anakin would cry out, reaching for the ghost of an arm that was no longer there. The memories of the dreadful incident came around often like an old acquaintance, one who didn't quite get the hint that their presence was not wanted.

The terrors were definitely unwanted. Each nightmare that plagued his mind, almost every waking moment, every phantom pain was a painstaking reminder of his own incompetence. He was too weak, too blind to stop what happened. The flash of the red saber. The brief, agonizing, piercing hot sensation in his right arm followed by a sharp breeze. The unmistakable smell of his own charred flesh. The events of Geonosis were far too grisly to forget. The monstrous nature of his failure grasped and invaded his mind with its tendrils, ensuring nothing but pain as it threatened to pull him down under. 

What made matters worse was the useless words of the Jedi Council when he sought their advice. Anakin nearly trudged out of the Council Room in laughter. Did they know how ridiculous they sounded? Firstly, he couldn't confide in anyone or simply desire their comfort. Secondly, his own limbs were considered part of things that he couldn't stay attached to, and the young Jedi found that piece of grim advice hilarious. He wondered if their powers with the Force and their lightsabers were the only reason that they were respected.

The cybernetic arm that he was given only did so much. It functioned like a normal arm and hand; it simulated the sense of touch. It was a piece of technology revered by many and saved those who used it. Whenever he retired to his quarters, he would simply stare at it, desperately hoping that it would complete him, hoping that the many credits invested into his new limb would save his soul from the relentless torment that lurked whenever the sun when down.

It was never the same. How could it ever be the same? Despite the fact that Dooku had severed his right arm, Anakin felt like he had broken his whole body and spirit. One would describe his state as one of constant grieving, for his arm, for himself. He dreaded training, missions, meditating. Eating seemed to be a monumental chore for the boy who was destined to save the galaxy.

His body was at a disconnect with his own mind, and no amount of tinkering or relentless practice with the replacement would help.  It was like everyone else was above ground, moving at a normal pace, and he was stuck at the bottom of the ocean, unable to control the chaos of the water around him.

He had hoped that the nightly perils would cease in their frequency with time. As the years passed, his hope diminished, at the very least wishing that he could get used to the feeling. 

On another lonely, sleepless night, Anakin had woken from phantom pain. Defeated, he slid himself off the edge of his bed, letting his body slump to the floor. He was the phrase 'human wreck' incarnate, his now grown-out hair askew; sweat and tears mingling as they slid down his face and neck; the pale, vein-ridden skin of his half-bare body being proof of his negligence towards himself. It was only on occasion that he could sleep alongside the moon, with no troubling thoughts to bother him. The rest of those nights were akin to psychological torture.

"Maybe it was karma for all the times I used the Force to extract a confession from somebody. Is that what that felt like?" he said to himself.

At times, he liked to pause as if there was someone there who would respond.

He wanted a response, longed for someone to just be there. Someone could sit across from him and say that his pain was superficial, that he was being overdramatic, and Anakin would still be grateful for the words. Intimate touch was constantly on his mind; not the kind of touch that led to something amorous, but the kind that could leave his battle-torn skin covered in goosebumps, the kind that would make him hyper-aware of every inch of his body.

He brushed his human fingers over the forearm of his replacement, wanting to know if there was some way he could make himself feel that intimacy. His desperation to simply feel was slowly driving him mad, and he once again let himself lose to his rage. A tear seemed to poetically slip down Anakin's cheek as his sweat-ridden fingers fumbled around with the latches, dislodging his mechno-arm and flinging it towards his wall with enough strength he could muster. A pained grunt escaped his lips.

As it slammed against the wall, it made a loud, yet unsatisfying 'thud'. Some of the casing popped off, the wires and inner mechanisms becoming exposed as it fell unceremoniously to the floor. The emotional toll and the sudden action it wrought had left Anakin out of breath. His glossy eyes trailed from the wreckage down to the emptiness where it should have been, and at that moment, he felt truly pathetic. He desperately wanted to blame anything else, but it seemed that with every obstacle, he only had himself to blame. Did he truly deserve this? He started to believe so.

It was then that his ears picked up a soft knock at his door. Anakin had shot up from his seat on the floor, hurrying over to retrieve his arm and fix it back into place. Disoriented from the absence of sleep, he managed to trudge his way to his door, carefully watching his own feet so he wouldn't stumble. Almost like a child.

When he opened the door, the last thing he expected was to see her. Why was she even here this late at night? She didn't even live in this part of the Knights' Billet. Had one of the masters sent her? Her expression and her body language were timid, seemingly afraid to cross the line; but her ever-so-captivating eyes shone with curiosity. Anakin caught those eyes trying to sneak a glance behind him, tilting his head as he made himself comfortable leaning against his doorway.

"Did someone send you? Tell them I'm not in the mood," he said rather curtly without another glance, taking a step back as he moved to close the door. He was growing exhausted with how the Jedi expected so much of him but didn't even respect him.

Her hand seemed to spring out to hold the door open in retaliation. He was growing tired of the antics, ready to glare her down with daggers, until he saw something different in the girl. Her stance was firm as she held open the door. He saw that her eyes held a brewing mix of resolve and desperation as if silently pleading for him to hear her out.

"I was walking by, and I heard a noise. Are you okay?"

Time seemed to stop as she voiced her concern, leaving Anakin breathless once again. There was an undeniable pang in his heart, threatening to set loose what had been building up inside of him. Any other day, he would've brushed her off and forced the door shut without a care in the world. She was jeopardizing her place in the Jedi Order, and his as well. How could she afford to be so careless?

So careless about her duties…but she cared about him.

Struggling to voice his answer, he found himself nearly paralyzed with uncertainty, not knowing how to proceed. The mere act of them meeting this late at night had already broken so many rules...but was he willing to sacrifice some rules to save his own sanity? He saw a look of pity flash over her eyes, and he stayed frozen as she quietly shuffled in, closing the door behind her in a similar matter.

Anakin was sure about the fact that he needed someone to confide in, to share his agony, to comfort his long-tortured soul. It was only until she had uttered her first words to him that night that it dawned on him: she would see him as weak, and not the Chosen One. The dichotomy of his needs and fears clashed about in his brain. He needed a companion, but he was afraid of losing her approval, anyone's approval. Everyone's approval.

"What's wrong, Anakin?"

Her voice had cut through the growing torment of his thoughts, leaving it silent, those three words alone threatening to unravel him. He avoided the piercing gaze that was threatening to see right through him.

"Just insomnia," he muttered.

When his eyes returned to her, he immediately knew that his answer wasn't good enough. Who was he kidding? He realized that he hadn't even bothered to look presentable, hair messy and skin glistening with sweat. As if to mock his own thoughts, a gust of air blew in from his conditioning unit, making the tear streaks down his face feel like they were freezing. He watched her carefully as her eyes examined these very things, a flush gracing her cheeks as she briefly glanced at his bare chest. The faint glow of the stars pouring in from the window only seemed to accentuate it, illuminating her skin. She was pretty.

The very thought angered him. Why did beauty distract him so in such a vulnerable moment of his life? It was a weakness he was not proud of, not only because it represented what he could not have, but what he struggled to be himself. Every rule in his life seemed like it was set in place to keep him from having beauty, being beautiful. He couldn't help but break those rules as his eyes raked over her figure. He saw how her hair cascaded down to delicately frame her face, skin that was once covered modestly by Jedi robes, eyes that seemed to tantalize him even if her intentions meant otherwise.

Would it be so terrible if he indulged in these desires in his moment of need?

Anakin shook his head to his own thoughts, causing her to tilt hers in confusion. Of course, it would be terrible, but why was it terrible in the first place? He was suffering, feeling pathetic with his appearance and in his mind. It was not terrible to need someone, but why was guilt beginning to consume these selfish desires? Maybe it was terrible to need her. He barely knew her, and she took the same vows as he did.

"I understand," she whispered, seeming rather awkward and sheepish compared to before. She avoided his gaze as she turned her back on him. As she began to reach for the doorknob, Anakin was surprised to see that she hesitated. Was it too hopeful to think that she felt the same? He called out for her, more despairingly than he intended to.

"Wait, I..." He hesitated, not sure if he wanted to take the plunge. It would be the start of a slippery slope he couldn't hope to dig her or himself out of. He knew that if he tried, it would be futile, so that must've been why he had the nagging feeling that he didn't even want out.

"I need you here."

He watched closely as her brows furrowed and her grip on the doorknob tensed, immediately realizing that his request might have been too bold, to say the least. His gaze fell to the floor as a wave of humiliation washed over him. If she had run off at that moment, he would've understood. However, as he gathered the courage to look up once more, he saw that she had stood still, eyes continuing to prod him for a better explanation. Swallowing the ever-growing lump in his throat, he leaned against the wall of his dormitory as he tried to find the words that would lead him down the slope. If it meant that he could find peace for one night, one hour, or even one minute, so be it.

"I need you here because…I am cursed. I'm cursed with an affliction I can't ever hope to cure. I feel like I'm at war with myself, and it haunts me to my soul."

Anakin paused, subconsciously holding his breath, unsure if he wanted to continue. All of this was most likely too heavy to hear, especially since she barely knew him. Did she care?

At that moment, as if to answer his silent query, she stepped forward and placed herself in front of him, standing so close he felt the warmth of her body. The scent of her freshly-washed hair polluted his senses, leaving him feeling melancholy. He watched in a trance as her brows furrowed in worry, tentatively lifting up her hand. Her fingers gently prodded at his cybernetic, outlining the broken casing. Once her curious eyes rose back up to meet his, there was a silent acknowledgment. Understanding. It gave him the push to keep going, to muster the strength to hold open the floodgates of his heart. He stopped holding his breath, his sorrowful gaze falling to the floor.

“I'm...completely lost. I've strayed so far from the path of the Jedi that I can no longer see it…and I am afraid I don't even want it. I'm constantly told that I shouldn't feel this way...that hurting is selfish, and that I should focus on the needs of others before my own, to live up to my prophecy," Anakin muttered, his tone turning bitter and his brows furrowing in anger at the last word.

"But how can I do that when I am disconnected from myself? When I don’t feel like the Chosen One? I don’t feel like anyone is choosing me.”

Anakin’s eyes traveled up her figure once more, her minuscule and simple movements making them glaze over with desperation. He found the way her shoulders gradually moved up and down with each breath captivating, the flutter of her lashes with each blink. He took her by the hand that was calmly tracing his forearm, enveloping it firmly in his. She watched him as her breath halted in suspense, her fingers seeming hesitant to move.

“I need you here, not because I expect you to fix me, but because I just need someone. Anyone. I need you to choose me, to touch me,” he whispered, his voice shaking as he watched her lace her fingers with his own. “Please, I need this...bittersweet taste of relief. I can't bear this alone anymore.”

After what seemed like an eternity of silence with their hands in each other’s, she let go, much to Anakin’s chagrin. However, she lifted her hand once again, gradually bringing her hand to his chest, laying it flat above his heart. The sensation sent waves of warmth across the bare skin of his chest, the rippling feeling leaving goosebumps in its wake. He was certain that she could feel the deafening pounding of his heart. A faint gasp left his lips as she began to slide her hand down to his abdomen, his muscles in that area tensing. He didn’t expect to feel this hyper-sensitive to someone’s touch.

She flinched a little at his reaction, causing her to stop her motions. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she looked up at him timidly.

“Is that okay?” she asked, her voice unsure, as if she was testing the waters.

Hearing her words, Anakin’s vision was obscured by his own tears…tears of relief. He savored the straining feeling in his chest and throat as he fought to hold back his sobs, thankful he was even feeling anything like that at all. A slow blink of his eyes betrayed him as a brief stream of hot tears slid down his cheeks, which she quickly wiped away with her free hand. She seemed rather flustered when that very action caused more tears to fall in succession, awkwardly wiping more tears as quickly as she should.

The act made Anakin chuckle briefly, nearly surprising himself with the sound. It seemed to surprise her too, in turn making her laugh along with him. Realizing that this warming feeling was contagious, they both began to erupt into giggling fits, ending with a hush from her, muttering something about “quiet hours”. Though it had seemed silly, Anakin had wished they never stopped.

Again, damn the Jedi with all their rules.

During her stay, they sat together at the foot of his bed as Anakin slowly began to unravel the darkness that had been plaguing him since Geonosis. They spoke in hushed murmurs, afraid that someone might find them together. Their conversation would cease at the mere sound of a distant footstep, the creak of the conditioning vent, and muffled voices from the other side of his dorm wall. 

However, Anakin thought all the sneaking around to be worth it. Her presence and her conversation proved to help more than he could have hoped for. Soon enough, he was pleading for her to come back the next night. A shy expression overtook her features. Something around the lines of “You like me that much?” was uttered, and those very words ignited the beginning of an insatiable fire within him. Her wide, curious, and sparkling eyes continued to feed that very fire.

Anakin wasn’t too sure when he started to kiss her.

He wasn’t even aware of when they had closed so much distance between each other. However, her receptiveness pushed those questions far away, his thoughts taking form in the shape of her. A rush of emotions flooded through him, momentarily drowning out the misery that consumed his existence. In that singular, stolen moment, he felt a profound peace, something that he thought he might never experience again.

Every touch, every gentle brush against him sent electric currents coursing through his body. His senses were enveloped by her, reveling in the taste of her, the softness of her lips, the warmth of her breath mingling with his. Her hands began to clutch onto his frame desperately, her nails digging in and leaving red trails in their wake. The world around him slowly began to fade into insignificance, his focus narrowing to the raw sensation of being alive, of feeling something so intensely beautiful. For that fleeting moment, Anakin allowed himself to be consumed by this sinful, blissful indulgence of the present. It was a sanctuary from his own mind. After a lifetime of monochrome, he was overjoyed to feel anything at all. It was a bittersweet joy, knowing that this kiss was fleeting, and that it came at a heavy cost. As their lips reluctantly parted, Anakin’s mind was only filled with anticipation for the next. He watched her, his eyes filled with a mixture of reluctance and longing, as she began to pull away, her breath slightly ragged. A part of him wants to hold onto her desperately, to stop the inevitable departure. “Wait,” he called out, his voice feeble and vulnerable as he cautiously took her hand in his. “I-i…don’t want you to go. This is…it's everything to me.”

Anakin hated how desperate he sounded in his pleas, embarrassed at the state Geonosis had reduced him to. He almost despised the fact that he needed this…that the Chosen One needed someone else to feel so alive. But the way she flooded his mind was such a high for him, and he never wanted to come down.

“Please,” he begged, his voice nearly giving out as his eyes began to glisten. “I know the risk you’d be taking, but…one more night, please. The same time, tomorrow night. We can figure out what to do then.” He watched as her resolve wavered, noting the longing in her eyes. Anakin knew she felt a pull to him as well, it’s what caused her to come and investigate him in the first place. As she took a deep breath, his thoughts came to a halt, ensuring utter silence to hear what she had to say. “Okay, Skywalker. One more night. But…if we get caught, it’s on you,” she scolded, her arms crossing.

Anakin found her attitude endearing, answering her with a simple nod. Despite her playful nature, he understood the weight of her words. He leaned in, allowing his forehead to rest against hers, enjoying the subtle heat that radiated from her, a stark contrast to the cold room they were in. Pulling away with a lingering touch and a final gaze, they parted ways. As the door closed behind her, a profound sense of emptiness washed over Anakin. Her absence only made him feel the weight of his desperation. The taste of her still lingered on his lips, and it nearly made him want to throw the door open and chase after her. However, as much as he desired that, he couldn’t bring himself to.

As he returned to his empty bed, he decided he would just have to wait until she would return, his newly found moonlight, who had illuminated his dark and harrowing night, who had caused the waves in his heart to surge and swell.

He found comfort in the fact that the moon would always return to the sky.

-

As each night passed, their next clandestine meeting was what occupied Anakin’s thoughts. Every single moment until then felt like an eternity, nearly stretching his patience to the limit. His thoughts were never without her.

It was especially bad whenever he would sit in the Temple’s garden and meditate with Obi-Wan. 

The afternoon after that encounter with her, Anakin and Obi-Wan sat cross-legged across from each other, eyes closed as they sought inner peace with the Force.

Anakin struggled to quiet his mind, to let go of the constant longing that plagued him. He tried focusing on his breathing, to sink into stillness, but the image of her under the moon invaded his every thought. Her face, her touch, her taste, her warmth–it consumed his mind like a raging wildfire.

As Obi-Wan searched through his own mind, he couldn’t help but sense a disturbance. A subtle ripple, a flicker of distraction that emanated from his young apprentice. His brows furrowed slightly as he tried to search for what was troubling Anakin.

After a while, Obi-Wan slowly opened his eyes, gaze fixed on his padawan as his gentle voice broke the silence. “Anakin, I sense something is weighing on your mind. Is everything alright?”

Anakin’s eyes remained closed, feeling sweat break out on the nape of his neck as he fought to maintain his composure. Why did Obi-Wan even bother asking? He was never going to tell his master, and he knew that. That didn’t prevent the feeling of guilt that started to accompany the flurry of his emotions. “I’m sorry, Master,” Anakin responded after a beat of silence. “I’m just…worried about my knighthood. That is all.”

Obi-Wan’s expression softened, his eyes taking on a knowing, yet understanding look. Of course, he knew his apprentice hiding something. He would consider himself a bad master otherwise. He could feel the turmoil radiating from Anakin, yet his desire to remain elusive. He wanted to respect his privacy, but his duty as a mentor compelled him to push further.

“Anakin, you know it is one of my many responsibilities to guide and support you, but I cannot do that if you hide things from me,” Obi-Wan said. “Whatever it is, just remember you don’t have to face it alone.”

With that, Anakin’s eyes fluttered open before meeting his master’s, a mixture of guilt and longing to open up to him. He hated that he was in an order where judgment and the potential consequences of desire prevented him from confiding in his mentor, his best friend, his brother.

“Believe me, master, I am more than thankful for your concern. But this…this is something I have to figure out on my own,” Anakin replied, his voice displaying a hint of vulnerability. “I will be fine.”

Obi-Wan sighed inwardly. He knew that part of becoming a Jedi involved navigating your own path, but he couldn’t help but feel like there were deeper issues at play. However, he was willing to let it go for the sake of supporting his apprentice.

“Very well, young Skywalker,” he conceded, a touch of sadness in his voice. He reached over to give a reaffirming pat to Anakin’s shoulder. “I trust that you find your way, as you always do. Don’t forget that I am here, whenever you need me.”

Anakin nodded, letting his eyes fall shut once more as he continued to “meditate”.

Still, his moonlight danced through his mind, and he could only think about how long it would be until he could see her shine again.

a/n: ao3 saw it first! inbox is open!!

[vraisetzen]

https://www.tumblr.com/vraisetzen/759944146657148928/hi-v-howre-you-after-reading-notte?source=share

Woah! Oh my god, this is such an awesome response! It’s so thoughtful and well-written! I really love your answer to the first question! It’s absolutely incredibly thoughtful!!

I’m not anon, but I’ve also been curious about the way a meeting between Michikatsu and Tengen would go, too… I wonder — does Michikatsu, on some level, want to impress Tengen? And how would Suma, Makio and Hinatsuru react to Michikatsu? What about Amato?

And how would the rest of the surviving people react to the marriage? Would they know or would only the closest — like Tengen — know?

And also just another thing I’ve been curious… what do you think Michikatsu would do now that he’s human again? He’s no longer a demon and no longer has to think about Muzan’s wishes… and because there are no demons, he doesn’t have to think about being a demon slayer anymore… so what would he do?

You are SO COOL. I cannot believe you provided such an amazing response to those questions. You are so thoughtful. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone respond in this way before on Tumblr.

And can I just say? You’re such a cool writer. You are so good at conjuring the mood, using just the right descriptions, writing believable dialogue, and just being able to replicate believably human behaviour… That is so cool!

I honestly wish more people knew about ‘Notte Stellata’ because it’s fantastic. It’s so well-paced and it’s just filled with some of the coolest imagery and dialogue. You truly have a gift for writing.

Hi Anon! I'm so happy that you enjoyed my answer! It was a fantastic question and I had a great time thinking about it~

I think Michikatsu, firstly as the Reader's husband, and secondly as someone who is naturally competitive and always aspires to be the best, would seek to prove his worth — though more so to himself than to others. As a human, he no longer has the supernatural strength and skill of a demon (though his Breathing techniques will always stay with him), so he is keenly aware that he needs to show his capabilities in other aspects of his life even if the Reader assures him that there is no need for him to do so.

On a separate vein, he also understands that Uzui is not just the Reader's former comrade, but also the closest person she could have to a family; he therefore knows that Uzui expects him to show that he deserves the Reader's husband.

"Still, there was no reason for Tengen-sama to come rushing over, demanding an explanation," Hinatsuru said with a sheepish smile. Amato, sitting on her laps, gurgled in agreement.

"I don't think Uzui-san meant any offence nor harm," you offered, embarrassed that you might have sowed some seeds of discord between the quartet. "We really should have told you earlier."

"You had no obligation to," Hinatsuru assured. "It's your marriage, and we understand that you needed some time with each other."

"And Michikatsu-san has been nothing more than gracious towards us," noted Suma as she carried Amato into her arms, tickling the young boy in his sides. "Amato was so happy when he'd made a little wooden horse just for him!"

"Well, he's good with his hands," you agreed, looking down at your reflection in the tea cup just in time to catch the flash of pride that flitted across your eyes.

"Does he work as a craftsman?" Makio asked, setting down a small bowl of sweet potatoes. Instantly, Amato dove for the snack, using his fingers to prod the mash. Makio pulled his hand away. "Hey, manners!"

"Does he work at all?" Suma joked.

"Well, it's not a bad thing to be idle," Makio noted, feeding Amato a tiny spoonful of the sweet potatoes. "But not as idle as Tengen-sama though..."

"Girls..." Hinatsuru interjected, but you waved off her concerns with a small smile, touching your ears in a bid to quell the heat that has stained it a deep pink.

"Michikatsu does have a job," you explained. "Well, sort of..."

"Sort of?" Makio raised a brow, pausing as she hovered the spoon inches away from her son's mouth. Amato cried in protest, and she turned her attentions back to him. "Ah, sorry, kiddo..."

Michikatsu, to your knowledge, has never had to work a day in his life. In the past, he had been a samurai, tasked with managing his estate's finances and ensuring the discipline of his men. And in the following centuries as a demon, he never needed to worry about accumulating worldly possessions and wealth.

It thus came as a surprise to him, after he had recovered from his injuries, when you suggested that he tried to put his skills to good use. While the pension you received from the Corps was enough to keep you two fed and warm for the rest of your lives, you thought it best if Michikatsu could explore this new world as a human.

The only issue, of course, was that Michikatsu was a man displaced from his time. Any skill he possessed had been outdated for many years; the carrying of swords was banned by the Meiji government for several decades before you were born. While he was a skilled Go player, the game had become increasingly unpopular as many turned to Western chess and other new imported curiosities.

It was one thing to be a demon in a world of humans, but another to be an old soul in a world of modernity.

And though Michikatsu may remain silent, you sensed that he was becoming rather antsy at his alienation from this modern world. You noticed that he would retreat into the study or the woods for hours at a time, and would not emerge till it was minutes before dusk with a pensive look on his face. He never spoke of his worries nor expressed his frustrations to you, but it made the atmosphere at home rather tense.

Anxiety gnawed at your bones as you wondered if your marriage was doomed even before you had time to bicker over chores and sleeping patterns.

But you did not tell this to the girls, of course. What you could tell them, however, was a small twist of fate that turned things around for the two of you:

There was a small bookstore in town which you and Michikatsu enjoyed frequenting for its quaint collection of old books from the Edo period and Chinese classics. The owner was a widowed old man, balding and slight with a pair of half-moon glasses, who always allowed you to borrow the texts instead of purchasing them, in exchange for the occasional afternoon tea.

"A few weeks Michikatsu pointed out that the chapters in a copy of The Analects had been written in the wrong order. The shop owner was rather impressed when he managed to arrange them correctly from memory, that he asked if Michikatsu would like to be his assistant."

At the moment the owner made his offer, Michikatsu had glanced at you, a small flicker of light flashing across his eyes while you smiled at him with encouragement. You took his hand in yours, and while your slim fingers were engulfed by his longer ones, you squeezed them tight.

"Of course, I won't be able to pay you as much as those banks and law firms in the city, but if you don't mind keeping an old man company and an eye out for any thieves..." the owner had drifted off, twiddling his thumbs.

"That is fine," Michikatsu had said, looking down at your entwined fingers. "I can start tomorrow."

"A librarian!" gushed Suma. "How romantic!"

"He's not exactly a librarian," you hurried to explain. "Michikatsu's just helping the store owner with sorting the books and making sure everything's in order. He also helps the customers with reaching for the top shelf since he's rather tall..."

"Oh, that we can relate," Makio remarked, throwing Hinatsuru an amused grin.

Hinatsuru nodded. "It sounds like honest work."

"It is," you agreed.

And it was exactly that Michikatsu needed: something on which he could spend his time learning more about this new world, speaking with other people besides yourself (and Uzui, if and when they decide to talk). Just yesterday afternoon, you managed to slip into town and spy through the windows to see how he was faring, and it warmed your heart to see him engrossed in a game of Go with one of the owner's friends. There was a levity in his posture which you missed seeing, and you were delighted that he had found it in the most unexpected of places.

"Why, isn't it the missus!" the store owner — Tanaka-san, as Michikatsu had so kindly informed you — greeted when you stepped into the bookstore, the bells dangling over the doors pealing in an effervescent chime. "Would you like anything to drink?"

Michikatsu looked up briefly from the game board, and crossing gazes with you. As the sunlight poured in from the open windows, you could see every shade of his brilliant eyes, dancing from a soft heather to a rich violet. His scars, barely visible, creased as he gave you a smile — and at that moment, you have never been more thankful for the small, lucky stars that gave the moon its radiance.

And how would the rest of the surviving people react to the marriage? Would they know or would only the closest — like Tengen — know?

This is a very good question too, Anon! I think for most part, the Reader desires to have a peaceful, quiet life with Michikatsu, with as few people knowing about her marriage as possible. It wasn't because she was afraid of their judgment, but because she simply wanted to move on with this new chapter of her life. Hence, I can't imagine her divulging her marriage to anyone else in the Corps, not even Tanjiro.

Tanjiro had a brief encounter with the Reader in the early chapters on Notte Stellata, and ever since he mentioned that he could smell demons near her, she avoided him like the plague. And while Tanjiro was puzzled by the Reader's sudden absence during the events of the Hashira Training arc, he was unable to write her a letter to her because she had not exchanged her details with him.

It would be up to Uzui, a chronic yapper, to finally reveal with a slip of the tongue — not that she was married, but where she lived. Excited, Tanjiro would write a very polite and well-worded letter, asking her if she was doing well, and — if she so wished — to visit the Kamado residence.

The appearance of the letter would naturally surprise the Reader, who had no idea how Tanjiro would come to know where she lived. She had heard occasional updates from Tengen that the young ones had settled down in their family home, but had never been keen on knowing more.

And as she went over the lines of the letter, taking in Tanjiro's innocent invitation and pondering whether she should reply, Michikatsu came over.

"Kamado Tanjiro," he noted, recognising the name of the young boy written on the outside of the letter. He did not spot its contents, however — nor did he wished to intrude, especially when he noticed that you had gone rather silent.

"Should I reply?" you asked, folding the letter back along the creases.

Michikatsu's eyes ran over the worried clouding your expression, and how you bit your bottom lip as you began drafting a response in your head. He took the letter from your hands, placing it face down on the desk where its sender's name was hidden from you. "Take however long you need."

And "however long" was about a week or so, after you woke up one morning before Michikatsu to compose your reply:

"Dear Tanjiro,

Thank you for your letter. It is so wonderful to hear from you, and to know that you are doing well.

I should quite like to visit your home someday, if I am ever close by."

And that was it. No promises, and no lies — and you had meant every word of it.

Sanemi, on the other hand, would prove to be rather difficult. To begin with, the Reader has always thought him a little unpredictable, despite the good nature beneath that fiery temper. And as someone who had fought Kokushibo and lived (something which Michikatsu would eventually tell her), she just couldn't tell if Sanemi would still recognise the first Upper Moon, and how he would react if he did.

Unlike Tanjiro, Sanemi never made the effort of reaching out to his fellow comrades, and the Reader suspected that he, too, would like to spend the rest of his days in relative peace and quiet. Uzui mentioned that he had met a young woman who worked at a wagashi store; despite your friend's slightly sardonic tone, you were happy for Sanemi, and wondered if he had mellowed out in the wake of the battle.

It was then inevitable that you would receive a wedding invite (no thanks to Uzui who also revealed to Sanemi where you lived). This time, you did not reject the good will shown by your former comrade. In fact, it would only draw unnecessary attention to yourself if you did not appear.

The wedding was set to take place in the far reaches of Tokyo, closer to Iruma, Saitama. It had taken half a day for you and Michikatsu to get there, and throughout the train journey you were thinking of the possible answers you could give Sanemi should he ask about your husband.

"I didn't think you would come," Sanemi said by way of greeting, though his eyes were fixed instead on Michikatsu, who stood beside you firmly and quietly. "Is that...?"

"My husband, yes," you confirmed, and Michikatsu took a step forward, offering a small bow. "Tsugikuni Michikatsu."

"Tsugikuni," Sanemi repeated, and you held your breath, waiting for the barrage of questions, or the light of recognition to dawn in his eyes. Instead, he was distracted by Amato, who traipsed into the scene, still carrying the horse Mchikatsu made for him.

"Hey!" Sanemi snapped, as the toddler hugged his leg as a bear cub clinging to a tree. "Uzui, come get ya brat!"

So much for mellowing out, you thought.

The wedding ceremony began and ended without much fanfare, and the dinner reception took place at a small restaurant in town. Sanemi's bride, whose name was to the tune of Kazuko or Kazuki, was a delicate vision of white silk and powder as she and Sanemi exchanged a cup of sake to mark their marriage.

Thereafter, more drinks were poured as side dishes were served; Uzui entertained a distressed Giyuu and his wives with his signature kappore routine, while Michikatsu disappeared outside, volunteering to take care of Amato. You settled into the corner of the room, seated beside a frazzled Sanemi who could finally sit down for a drink.

"Y'know, your danna..." Sanemi began, and instantly you were on guard, your clasped hands gripping so tightly that it cut into the flesh of your palm.

"Yes?" you asked, the picture of perfect calm. It was something you had learned from Shinobu, and Sanemi saw her face in yours too, as he gulped a finger of sake and poured himself another cup.

"Nah, it's just..." he furrowed his brows, looking at the bottom of his drink. You wondered if he was inebriated enough to forget this conversation come sunrise. "It's strange, isn't it? The people we end up marrying."

You blinked, the unexpected turn in the conversation leaving you a little loss for words. But Sanemi was nothing if not unpredictable, a sweeping typhoon whose trajectory one could never quite figure out. You poured yourself a drink from the bottle, and tipped your sake dish in his direction for a small toast.

"Indeed," you observed. "Love is a strange little thing."

Thank you for the question again, Anon! And sorry that this took me a while to answer; I had a great time thinking about the responses here, and I hope you enjoyed reading it too :D

xoxo, V ♥️

[almond-tofuuu]

ahhsksndjsoa I wanna hear ur thoughts on the Medical Rescue card. don't hold back 😂

Oh I have SO MANY THOUGHTS about this!

First if all, if Zayne puts himself in danger ONE MORE GODDAMN TIME I'm going to strangle him (affectionately)

Like sir, pls stop risking your life like this!

Secondly, OMFG I want to do unspeakable things to that man!!!!

The way we not only sat in his lap AGAIN 😫 but he PULLED US IN TO SIT ON HIM!!! god I just know he would let us ride him, like he's practically begging for it atp

(just imagine riding him, his hands on your waist guiding your hips to grind down on his cock 😫 and when you're legs get tired he has enough strength to just take over, using his strong arms to bounce you up and down on his cock 🤤)

Also have you seen how broad he is! 😫 His chest looks so good I just wanna *chomp* take a bite of those titties

And his shoulders UGHHH you just know they would be the perfect place to rest your legs 😉 or grab onto while he roughly pounds into you- 😫😫😫😫😫

And his arm has a visible vein running along it!!!!! (Yes I find that hot, I know I'm a whore)

Also, that back!!!!! I don't know what it is about a toned back on a man that I find so attractive but GODDAMN 🥵🥵🥵 I swear every inch of this man is sculpted by the gods

And speaking of every inch, how many times is he gonna invite us to examine every inch of him?!?!!?

Like sir, I can't tell who's more desperate for it atp, me or him 😂

And then he basically promised to GIVE HIMSELF TO US I- *dies* 💀💀💀💀

I have simped for many fictional men but this man THIS MAN is the only one to make me this feral!!!!

All I can say is he clearly wants us just as much as we want him and I'm willing to get a medical license myself if it means I get to examine every inch of him (if yk what I mean 😏😏😏)

[withacapitalp]

How to Rehabilitate a Jock Pt 4

Okay first of all Here's the aok3 link for anyone who missed it!

Secondly I'm going to let you all know that unfortunately I'm not going to be taking any more tags on this. I've crossed 200 and I am so so grateful for you all, but it's going to be impossible to keep up with them. If you want to stay updated, subscribe on ao3, follow me here, or check the tag 'Steve Joins Hellfire AU' I think I'm the only one using it? If I missed taking you off, I'm so sorry just let me know again it's been totally crazy wrangling this list!

Part 1 here Part 3 here Part 5

Rest of fic and tags under read more!

When the rest finally got used to Steve watching them from over Eddie’s shoulder, the meeting was fairly uneventful. Steve would occasionally interject with a hesitant question, and Eddie would pause every so often to explain something when he noticed confusion on the other boy’s face, but overall it was almost like he wasn’t even there. 

Well, almost like he wasn’t even there for everyone else. 

For Eddie, it was two and a half hours of pure torture. 

Steve had started off a polite distance away from Eddie, clearly only observing. But, as the game progressed, their chairs inched closer and closer together until Eddie’s arm was pressed up against Steve’s, and their heads were knocking together as they pushed in close. 

All of their words were hushed and soft, gentle in a way that no one else would have expected from Steve Harrington. But the quiet snickers Steve let slip whenever Eddie did something particularly dastardly made every thought race out of his head. 

“There’s a lurking sense of impending doom as your party approaches the fiery gate. You each feel a foreboding chill race up your spines when you hear a monstrous roar echoing in the distance. Gather your party, and decide as one what you will do at this point,” Eddie growled out, watching with glee as the rest of them raced to the other side of the room and huddled together to exchange tense whispers.

As the rest of the club continued to strategize, Eddie sat back in his chair, folding his hands behind his head and letting loose a long indulgent sigh. 

Sure, he wasn’t the smartest person in the room, or the best athlete, but Eddie was good at this. He was good at this the same way he was good with a guitar, or with his hands stuck deep in the engine of a car. There was a thrilling sort of joy in doing something that he knew he excelled at, knowing he wasn’t going to fail, or not measure up, and that feeling was enough to give him the courage to turn to the boy next to him. 

“You likin’ it so far?” Eddie asked Steve, thoroughly enjoying the immediate eager nod that came before he even finished his question. 

“It’s really cool actually! I wasn’t expecting to have this much fun,” Steve said sitting cross legged in his chair and holding onto his ankles. 

It should have felt like backhanded compliments. Steve’s words should have offended him. If anyone else had said it, if any other jock had said it, then Eddie would be up in arms, defensive and bitter. 

But it was Steve, and Eddie was kind of already a goner for his big brown eyes and goofy sweet smile. All he heard was ‘cool’ and ‘fun’ and his brain put two and two together to create embarrassed happiness that flooded his every vein. 

Eddie pulled a lock of his hair over his face to hide the stupid grin that was on his face, chewing on the ring on his middle finger as he tried to pretend he wasn’t ridiculously pleased that Steve was having a good time. 

“Well, just wait till they get past this gate. If they get past this gate,” Eddie amended after a brief pause, busying himself with fixing his papers and pretending to be busy, “I have some pretty crazy things planned,”

“I’m sure you do,” 

The sentence was barely a murmur, four mumbled words that came on a puff of hot air that tickled the back of Eddie’s ear. A warm heavy presence settled itself right behind Eddie as Steve leaned up to read over his shoulder. Now it was Eddie’s turn to feel something racing down his spine, but it definitely wasn’t foreboding. 

Damn. 

Eddie’s face flushed deep red, and he pulled away, standing up and pretending to cough as he tried and failed to pull himself together. 

“Are you sure you’re alright? That’s the fifth time you’ve had to cough,” Steve pointed out from behind him. Eddie tossed a thumbs up haphazardly, cursing himself. 

Eddie had been forced to pretend to cough multiple times, just to turn away to try and hide the blush on his cheeks as Steve said or did something that made his entire body turn to jelly. The rest of the club hadn’t been fooled a bit, but Steve had started getting concerned after the second fake out. 

“Eddie’s just fine,” Janet said with a smirk, popping her head out of the huddle just to be an ass. 

Eddie continued to fake cough, sticking up his middle finger at her from where he was sure Steve wouldn’t see. He loved his friends, but honestly? Fuck his friends. 

“Maybe your throat is dry,” Steve offered, standing up and walking over to his backpack and starting to root around in it, “You have been doing a lot of talking,” 

“Yeah, talking is the issue here,” Rocky snarked as the rest of the group came back to the table, each of them wearing shit eating grins that made Eddie know he was in for the teasing of a lifetime the next time they were alone. 

“Well, regardless of why, you need to hydrate,” Steve replied, walking back over and holding out a water bottle to Eddie. 

The entire group instantly began to smother down their laughter. Even Gareth, who had stayed mad the entire fucking time, was hiding a smile behind his hand. Eddie screwed up his face into a completely unamused pout.

“Did I uh- did I miss something?” Steve asked, a sad puppy dog look of bewilderment on his features, sending Eddie's heart into overdrive.  He began to pull his hand back, but Eddie quickly intervened. 

“Thank you Steve,” Eddie emphasized, snatching the water bottle and taking a greedy sip. Water dribbled out of his mouth and down his throat, staining his shirt, “At least someone is worried about my precious, precious, voice,”

“You’re the lead of a metal band, Ed,” Jeff pointed out with a roll of his eyes, “Excuse us for not being too worried about what a few hours of DMing might do to that, oh so precious voice,”

Everyone else chuckled at this, even Steve. Eddie was caught between being annoyed at being teased, and elated at the prospect of the rest of the group starting to accept his ‘pet jock’. He waited until they were quiet before sitting back down, placing the bottle next to his papers and spreading his thighs wide. He placed both palms on his knees, leaning down and giving all of them a corrupted sneer.

“Have you decided what you want to do, travelers?” He asked, getting back into character. 

“We decided…that it’s almost 5:00, so we should pack it up,” Frank said with an exaggerated long pause, the rest exchanging slightly tired nods. Eddie straightened up, dropping the act.

“Seriously?” Eddie said, not exactly whining, but definitely disappointed. This was always what happened. If Eddie had his way, they would go until the sun rose for the next day, but the rest could only handle a few hours of this after eight hours of school. 

He was going to continue, try and talk them into at least another half hour, but before he could, Steve spoke up.

“Um, I actually have to go too,” He admitted, glancing at his watch and giving Eddie a conciliatory shrug. 

“Meeting up with your basketball buddies?” Gareth asked, still acting like a venomous snake. 

“No, we…we don’t really talk anymore,” Steve said, the long pause betraying the long story that hid behind his words, “I’m driving my kids home from AV club,” 

“That’s a point in his favor,” Rocky pointed out, the rest of Hellfire immediately turning on him with fierce glares. 

“Rocky,” Eddie snapped, unable to help himself. Steve gave him another confused glance, and Eddie waved it off, silently giving the rest a look. The group began to pack up in earnest, filling up the room with chatter and drowning out the potential pitfall that their youngest member had almost landed them in.

“Have the kids been waiting for you this whole time?” Eddie asked, slightly desperate to change the subject before Steve could speak any of the questions that were clearly starting to form. 

“Nah, they would be climbing the walls by now,” Steve said, shaking his head and fondly smiling to himself, “They’re not exactly the most patient group of people.”

“Our next meeting will be next Wednesday,” Eddie called out over the din. Frank saluted him as he walked out, Janet trailing close to him and disappearing next. 

“What’d you think, Steve?” Kaiden asked. 

“You guys argue a lot less than my kids do. They’re always fighting with Mike- oh uh the dungeon master?” Steve offered, apparently dropping the concern he had. 

The last sentence was phrased more like a question than a statement, so Eddie nodded along, continuing to put away his binders with care, making sure none of the group could sneak a peek at what was to come the next time they met. 

“If we argued with Eddie, he would only kill us faster,” Jeff said with a chuckle. 

“You’ll see when you’re on this side of the table,” Kaiden added, shouldering his backpack, “Maybe next week?” 

Steve opened his mouth to reply, but Gareth beat him to it. 

“We haven’t finished the campaign,” He stated bluntly, refusing to look any of them in the eye as he roughly tugged on the zipper of his bag, “We can’t just stop in the middle because a- because someone new decided to show up.”

The brightness on Steve’s features dimmed a little, and his smile went from natural to forced. Eddie bit his tongue to keep the immediate scathing remark at bay, working his jaw back and forth and letting his fingers drum along the table. 

As much as he wanted to jump to Steve’s aid (and remind Gareth exactly who was running this club) Eddie knew that it would be better in the long run to let Steve establish himself in the group and fight his own battles. If Eddie let himself get too defensive, then suspicions would start to rise, and the rest would only ever see Steve as ‘Eddie’s’ and not ‘theirs’. 

Still, it hurt to watch his best friend- a boy he had only ever known to be generous and kind- completely reject Steve on the principle of who he thought he was. 

Gareth was supposed to be better than that. They all were. 

“Welllllll, I guess I’ll have plenty of time to come up with a cool character then,” Steve said with a shrug. His nonchalant tone wasn’t exactly faked, but there was a tension in his shoulders that seemed painful. Eddie jerked his head towards the door, and the remaining members left as a group before anything else could go wrong. It was just him and Steve now. 

“Not too bad for your first time,” Eddie said with a soft grin, doing his best to smooth over the discomfort that had popped up in the last thirty seconds. 

“I’m not sure they were happy to have me there,” Steve shot back. Eddie was honestly kind of impressed with the bluntness of that, the way Steve didn’t seem afraid at all to confront the way they had all treated him. 

“They’ll warm up, I promise,” Eddie replied, trying to sound reassuring as they exited the room and started walking down the hall. 

The look Steve shot him from the side told Eddie everything he needed to know about how much he believed that promise. Eddie sighed loudly, wracking his brain for anything he could say that might help with this. 

“A cool character huh? Maybe your kids can help you with that,” He offered. Steve did smile at this, dipping his head low and trying to hide the dopey grin that was overtaking his face. 

“No way,” Steve said, his eyes quickly flitting to Eddie’s face before turning away, “If they found out I was playing DnD without them? I’d never hear the end of it.”

“So we’re your dirty little secret?” Eddie teased just as they reached the exit. Steve stopped, letting his hand sit on the handle. Eddie looked up at him curiously, only to find Steve was looking at him with complete and utter seriousness. 

“No,” Steve whispered, clearly contemplating his next words, “Not a secret. Just something that’s only mine,” 

Eddie didn’t know if it was the intensity of Steve’s gaze, or the mystery of the words that made him pause, but he hesitated. Something about it all just felt…significant. He needed to say the right thing here. 

Or, at least try to say the right thing. 

“Well, let’s keep it just yours for a while then. Sound good, sweetheart?” 

That was the wrong thing. It had started as the right thing, but that was without a doubt the wrong fucking thing. Eddie with his stupid big fat mouth and idiotic crush. Steve was definitely not coming back. Hell, he might never talk to Eddie ever again. 

A soft chuckle dragged him slowly out of his misery. He looked up, watching as Steve leaned his head back, a gleeful look of joy brightening up even the darkest parts of Eddie’s mind. 

“Sounds perfect,” Steve replied, still smiling. He ducked his head down, and Eddie entertained the wild notion that he might’ve even been blushing for two seconds, before banishing that thought from his mind. He had already played the odds enough today, he didn’t need to risk any more. 

“I could walk you over to the Middle School if you wanted, my liege?” Eddie said, instantly cringing at how overeager that question made him sound. 

“I think I can take care of myself, oh wise dungeon master,” Steve smirked, pushing the door open. 

A sharp blast of the cold November air smacked them both in the face, and Eddie scanned the empty lot. His own van was parked in one corner, and Steve’s beemer was in the other. 

And, standing around said Beemer, was a group of tiny humans. 

“Apparently, going to the middle school isn’t even necessary,” Steve sighed, shaking his head. 

“Steve!” One of the kids shouted, sliding off the hood of the car when he spotted the teen heading towards them. As soon as the boy said his name, the entire horde was scampering over, all of them talking at the same time. 

Steve had told him that he babysat. He had said it multiple times, in fact. 

But Steve saying it, and Eddie seeing five middle schoolers all clamoring for Steve’s attention were two very different things. They were pulling on his hands, tapping on his arms, and the one girl even jumped right on his back without warning. Steve caught her easily, but shot a dirty look at her from the side. 

“Where have you been?!” She shouted above the rest. 

Steve opened his mouth, but the other kids beat him to it. 

“We’ve been out here for ten minutes! Ten! Minutes!” One of the boys added. He was a sweet looking kid, tons of curly hair hidden under a big cap, but he had his hands on his hips and was shaking his head with a disappointed little tut

“Wow, ten whole minutes, Henderson. How did you guys ever survive?” Steve asked, sarcasm flooding every word. He adjusted his grip on the little red haired one and turned to Eddie to roll his eyes.

Eddie couldn’t even make a joke or say anything back, he was too shocked by the reality of Babysitter Steve Harrington. 

“You weren’t answering your walkie,” Another snapped. He was the only one that looked genuinely angry, giving Steve a withering glare, “It’s a Party Rule,” 

“It’s in my bag, Mike,” Steve explained, exasperated, “I was busy. Max, get down, you’re strangling me. Oh, and Lucas, how was your algebra test?” 

The first kid to have spoken up, ‘Lucas’ apparently, began to chat with him, the rest of he boys jumping in and interrupting in normal middle schooler fashion. ‘Max’ did as she was bid while Steve checked in with the rest. She hopped down, looking around bored for a minute before her eyes finally landed on Eddie, who had walked over silently, his hands deep in his pockets.

“Who’s this guy?” 

Eddie opened his mouth to say the words ‘dungeon master’, but he remembered just before he started to speak. 

He was ‘something that was only Steve’s’. Steve didn’t want to share him just yet, and the rush of pleasure that came from that wasn’t worth the glee that would come from watching Steve have to explain that he was playing Dungeons and Dragons without them. 

Eddie slowly shut his mouth and gave Steve a wink above the kids, letting him do the explaining. 

“Just a friend,” 

It wasn’t much of an explanation, but Steve wasn’t done. 

“C’mon, we can get McDonalds on the way home,” Steve added, offering the perfect distraction. 

Instantly chaos reigned again. They all began to shout their orders, running towards the car and yelling at Steve to hurry up. 

“Could we maybe get some for El?” One of the kids asked, walking much slower than the rest. Eddie wasn’t sure who ‘El’ was, but he did recognize this boy. He was pretty sure everyone in Hawkins knew who Will Byers was.

“Good idea,” Steve agreed, ruffling Will’s hair and pulling the kid in as he began to walk away. He turned back for a second and caught Eddie’s eye, giving him a tiny secretive little smile. 

“See you later, Alligator?”

“I guess this is where we part ways,”

“I guess…”

“See you later, Alligator?”

The memory hit Eddie like a truck, nearly bowling him over with its force. Steve was still standing there, still waiting for the answer he was sure was coming. This was where Eddie was supposed to pretend. He was supposed to just say ‘In a while, Crocodile,” walk away, and go home, pretending like those words didn’t matter. 

But he couldn’t. He just…couldn’t. 

Eddie lifted his hand and waved, turning around and walking to his van before he could see how Steve reacted. 

Tag List: @paopaupaus @zerokrox-blog @surferboyzaza @whatever-is-a-good-name @minjintea @addelyin @5ammi90 @hagbaby420 @shinekocreator @bornonthesavage @starxlark @electrick-marionnett @resident-gay-bitch @ash-a-confused-enby @classicdinosaurdeathpose @valon-whomsttf @rotten-lil-goblin @thereindeerlady @love-ya-kash @kerlypride @sparkle-fiend @thefreakandthehair @flowercrowngods @milf-harrington @sadcanadianwinter @gothbat99 @hotcocoaharrington @henderdads @lightwoodbanethings @colorful565 @h0n3y-dw @craterbbox @sourw0lfs @lesliiieeeee @bidisastersworld @tinynebula @ravnlinn @bonescaro @mexmatch @cottagecoredreams @joruni @hellykelly @maegan1116 @farewell-wanderlvst @desertfern @due-to-the-fact-that-im-a-slut @anythingforourmoonyedits @eerielake @fandemonium-takes-its-toll @sidekick-hero

[ellethespaceunicorn]

Don’t Take My Sunshine Away, Part II

Title: Don’t Take My Sunshine Away, Part II

Rating: Explicit, 18+, Minors - DNI

Pairing: Lloyd Hansen x Reader (Sunshine)

Fandom: The Gray Man

Word Count: 3K

Series Summary: You lived your life on a schedule. Everything is planned out from sunrise to sunset. But what happens when you go out on a limb and out of your comfort zone? Will it have dire consequences?

Chapter Summary: Lloyd draws you a bath and prepares brunch.

Warnings: dacryphilia, fingering (f receiving), gun, implied/referenced stalking, oral sex (m receiving)

A/N: I barely edited this one. If you catch anything, tell me, please! Unbeta’d, we die like people who tried their best. 

Dividers by: @firefly-graphics 

Support/Reblog banner by me

Cover Art by me

Spotify Playlist is here. 

Series Masterlist

My Masterlist

Lowering your restrained form, Lloyd’s upper body strength is on full display. As your back is finally flush with the ground, you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. You close your eyes and relax your breathing as you feel Lloyd’s hands roaming over your body before beginning the meticulous work of untying knots and working rope around your sensitive flesh.

As each limb is freed from confinement, you can feel the blood rushing back through your veins. You stretch out each muscle from your thighs to your toes, then again from your biceps to your fingers. Lloyd stands up to tie up the long lengths of rope while you sit up and finally get a good look at the state you are in.

You trace along the rope burns on your body. Trailing down to a purpling bite mark and a swelling “LH” on your inner thigh. You keep your face neutral as you examine your war wounds, careful that Lloyd may be watching. 

Speak of the Devil as he shall appear.

Lloyd crouches next to you, running a hand over yours before looking down at his work. “I bet that hurts like a bitch. But, it is hot to see my initials taking up space on this beautiful skin of yours. Come on, Sunshine,” His arms scoop under your knees and behind your back, standing up to his full height, “What say we get you fed and watered, huh?”

You didn’t like how small you felt in his arms. Too small, too close for comfort. “Sir, I…I can walk. You don’t have to carry me–” 

“I know, Sunshine. But if you think I’m gonna trust you to walk on your own, you’re dreaming,” He walks toward the steps and begins the climb, “First off, I don’t trust you not to run off just yet, forgive me. And secondly, I don’t want your blood getting everywhere.” As he gets to the top of the steps, you can see brightness coming from under the door. He turns the knob and the bright mid-morning sun makes you cover your eyes.

How long had you been here? Where is…here?

You are being put down on your feet, the plush rug is soft underneath your toes as you look around the lush bathroom. You weren’t expecting such a pretty display after being in that basement, but here you are as Lloyd turns on the water on the vintage claw-foot tub. He tests the water temperature and adds a generous amount of bubble bath from a bottle you recognize.

“Is that African black soap? I use that…at home…” Your words die as you realize the shelf is full of the same brands of toiletries you use at home. Shea Moisture shampoo and conditioner, Native Coconut and Vanilla body wash, Venus razors. The only way he could know what you use is–

–if he’d been inside your apartment.

If you freak out, he will freak out. Stay calm, and he’ll stay calm.

“Yeah, I know everything about you, Sunshine. Come on, get in the tub,” He holds out a hand and you take it and step slowly into the relaxing bubble-filled bath water, “How is it? Too hot? Not hot enough?”

“Sir…,” You trail off, sinking back into the soothing bath, “It’s so perfect. My entire body needed this.” Closing your eyes, you don’t notice the moan that escapes you as your muscles loosen across your body.

“Watch it, Sunshine, or I might get in with you making sounds like that,” He stood above you, reaching for the body wash and a fluffy bath sponge, before grabbing a stool and sitting on the side of the big tub. He shoves the scrubber under the water to soften it, then pours a generous amount of body wash onto its surface. 

Massaging in the gel, he pulls your left leg out of the water and begins to bathe you. Taking care to get every inch of skin he can reach, he moves to your left arm and then the right side of your body. He’s most attentive with your right thigh with the bite mark and initials. For a second, it looks like he wanted to spend more time fingering where the warm water opened your cut but he decides against it.

He slowly washes your back and neck, reaching around the front to cup your breasts. Dipping his hand under the water, his nimble fingers find your clit. Your swollen ignored button finally getting attention perks you up. Your hands go to the sides of the tub and water splashes onto the floor. 

Lloyd moves to kneel at the edge of the tub, the hem of his sleeve getting wet as his arm sinks further into the water. For someone so immaculate, he didn’t seem to mind his shirt getting soapy. He seems to only give a shit about getting you off at this particular moment.

“Relax, Sunshine. Just focus on coming for me,” Quickening his pace on your puffy nub, he groans as unshed tears appear at the corner of your eyes, “You gonna cry for me, Sunshine? Be a good girl and let those tears fall.” 

His other hand, suddenly at your neck, pulls you forward into his personal space. Looking into his bright blue eyes, the sliver of control over your body that you once had is now floating off into space. 

Your breathing picks up and fat tears roll down your cheeks as your orgasm takes you over. You want to lay back but the hand around your throat pulls you even closer. Your moans of ecstasy are swallowed as Lloyd’s lips slot with yours. Your hands go to his shoulders, unsure if you wanted to press into him or push him back.

As your hands move from his shoulders to his neck, you realize that you want him so much closer. Your orgasm settles as he breaks the kiss, your foreheads touching as you both catch your breath. Your brain is still foggy when you speak.

“Sir? What was…that for?”

He just pulls back and smiles at you, but it wasn’t his normal asshole smile. It was almost…sincere?

“Come on, you must be starving. Think you can stand?” You nod and he helps you up, rinsing off what soap clings to your skin. As you step out of the tub, Lloyd grabs a fluffy white towel and dries you off. As he gets to your right thigh, he takes great care in dabbing the towel on the “LH”.

You watch as he lifts your leg and puts your foot on the stool he was sitting on. He moves to the medicine cabinet and comes back with a first-aid kit. He grabs a tube of what you assume is antiseptic cream and spreads it over the lines of his initials. When you wince at the stinging, Lloyd smiles and bends down to blow on the skin. And that feels so good.

This means he knew it would sting and he could have let you be in pain, but he didn’t. Which is…nice of him?

He applies a couple of gauze pads across the lettering and uses the bandage tape to hold it in place. He packs away the first-aid kit and comes back to stand in front of your nude body. He puts a finger under your chin and tilts your head up to look into your eyes.

“Sunshine, as much as I love looking at your tits and pussy, I don’t want my men to see it and get…distracted,” He grabs your hand, leading you into the attached master bedroom’s massive walk-in closet, and motions for you to sit on the bench in the center of the room. He walks over to a portion of the closet with obviously feminine clothing and you watch as he pulls out a long simple yellow silk dress with a slit up the right side, “I’d like you to put this on. Should fit perfectly.” He hands you the dress and he walks around you back to the bedroom.

Just like that, he left you alone to dress, as if he hadn’t seen every part of you already. You stand and pull the hanger off the dress and put it back on the clothes rail. Touching the dress, you realize it’s real silk, and you don’t recognize the name of the designer. Putting it over your head, you pull the material down your body and look at yourself in the mirror. 

Fit perfectly? No. This dress fit like a glove. As if it was tailored specifically for you. You push down the thoughts of how and when your measurements were taken and brush it off as just a lucky coincidence. You take one last look and then walk into the bedroom.

Lloyd sits at the foot of the bed and looks over when you clear your throat. By the facial expression, he thinks you look pretty good. By the sound that escapes the back of his throat, he thinks you look phenomenal. But it’s the words that come out of his mouth that cement what he really thinks of you.

“Fuck, Sunshine,” He gets up from the bed and meets you, “You are perfection.”

You can’t stop the genuine smile that appears on your face. It’d been so long since someone complimented you. “Th-thank you, Sir. I love my gift.”

“Oh, Sunshine, this isn’t your gift. You’ll get that later. As long as you’re a good girl, that is. Can you be a good girl for me?”

If this designer dress wasn’t the gift then what was it? You shook the thought out of your head to answer Lloyd.

“Yes, Sir. I can be a good girl.” 

Taking your hand, Lloyd leads you out of the bedroom and through a long hallway to the kitchen. Your feet are cold on the tile floor and you are ushered into a seat at the island counter. Just after you notice the time blinking on the oven, 10:19, you feel a presence behind you. Turning around, you see a tall, stocky man holding a very big gun. You can tell he can handle himself and you can see his finger is near the trigger. You slowly turn back around when you hear Lloyd speaking.

“Don’t worry about Tiny, Sunshine. He’s just here to make sure you don’t go running off while I have my back turned. You understand. Anyway, what do you want on your omelet?” There it was, the asshole smile. It was back.

For a moment, you were upset. But then, you thought about it. You’d been alone with him most of the morning and he had been in a calmer mood. Around his men, he had to appear to be the Boss. The asshole smile was just a front, hiding the genuine smile you caused.

“Peppers and onions, please Sir.” You answered carefully, suddenly unsure of what to do with your hands. You decide to keep them on the counter, lacing your fingers together.

“Coming right up.” Lloyd turns around and gets to work on cutting the vegetables, cracking and whipping the eggs, then combining the ingredients to pour into the pan. The smell of the omelet cooking causes your mouth to water, even though you weren’t all that hungry. 

Once the food is plated, Lloyd sits it in front of you. Your eyes light up and you go to take a bite but you don’t have cutlery. Looking up to get Lloyd’s attention, you notice that he is holding a fork and knife in his hands. But he’s not giving them to you. He’s bringing them around the counter and sitting next to you on a stool and pulling the plate closer to himself.

“You didn’t think I was going to give you a knife, did you?” He begins to cut off a bite of omelet and blows on it before holding it out to you, “Come on, eat up Sunshine.”

You debate putting up a fight, but instead, open your mouth and accept the bite of food. Once it hits your palate, you’re surprised that it’s so tasty. A funny thought hits you and you snicker to yourself.

“What’s so funny, Sunshine?” His face is calm, but you know it’s only a matter of what words you use that will make him sway into smiling or scowling.

“I was just thinking if you didn’t want to be…whatever it is that you are, you could always go to culinary school and be a world-class chef.” You smile at him and you see a glimmer of the man from this morning in his eyes.

He only squints before cutting another piece and feeding you. Once you take the offered bite, he studies as you close your eyes and savor the flavors within. Opening your eyes, you notice him watching you. You slowly dart out your tongue to lick your lips and witness as his jaw does ‘the thing’. Biting your bottom lip, you look up into his eyes.

Nothing but fire and desire in those bright blue peepers. He pushes away the plate and grabs your hand, walking before you even climbed down from the stool. He pulls you through the doors of the kitchen that open into a courtyard area with a big fountain. You don’t even get time to look around as you are coming back inside the house on the other side.

You enter what looks to be Lloyd’s office. He lets go of your hand and walks behind the big wooden desk in the center of the room. While he goes about his business, you look around the room at various knickknacks scattered on bookshelves and end tables.

You pick up a ceramic kitten with its tail in the air. It was a dead ringer for the one you had lost weeks ago. Putting it down, you notice a rhinestone hair clip on the corner of the desk. You would know this hair clip anywhere because it’s one-of-a-kind. You got it at the flea market from an old woman who handmade them. But you remembered picking out the iridescent rhinestones because you like the extra shimmer they gave.

You held the hair clip in your hands and squeezed your eyes shut. You didn’t want to see any more of your lost items in this room. And you knew that you would see more if your eyes were open. A hand at the small of your back has you going rigid in an instant.

“Sunshine, I have your gift,” He smoothes his hand over the curve of your backside and you yelp at the smack he delivers when you don’t turn around, “You really gonna make me ask you twice?”

You turn around, eyes downcast. Lloyd puts a hand under your chin, gripping you tight with his thumb and forefinger, and jerks your head up.

“Are you seriously this upset that I took a fucking hair clip?”

“It’s not the hair clip, Sir. I just, I thought we had a…moment. But since then, you’ve been nothing but mean to me. And I know you have to be a certain way around your men but I–”

You’re cut off when Lloyd’s mouth attacks yours. He sucks on your bottom lip, nibbling ever so slightly, eliciting whimpers from you. Lloyd licks into your mouth, tickling your nose with his mustache. When your moan turns into a giggle, you pull away to try and stifle it. But Lloyd feels you pull away and growls before conquering your mouth again and biting at your bottom lip just to the point of pain then stops and pulls back to look into your eyes.

“Nothing but mean to you, huh?” His thumb glides over your bottom lip, your tongue snaking out to taste it, “Look at you, you can’t get enough of me even after I’ve been so mean to you.”

“Sir…you’re all I have.” You try and blink away the unshed tears in your eyes but they have a mind of their own and trickly slowly down your cheeks.

“I know,” Lloyd uses the back of his knuckles to wipe away your tears and puts on a small smile, “Let me give you your gift.” He pulls away and picks up a wide flat jewelry box, opening it to reveal a gold choker that read ‘Sunshine’ in pretty writing.

“It’s…beautiful, Sir. Can I put it on?”

Instead of answering, Lloyd takes the choker out of the box, putting it around your neck when you turn around, and securing it with a hex key. He puts his hand on your hip, turning you back around so he can look at you wearing his collar, so to speak.

“As long as you wear this, you’re mine. You won’t be able to take it off without the key. And I’ll make sure nothing happens to you.” You can see the sincerity in his eyes, past the hunger and the urge to rip your dress off and take you over whatever surface he sees fit.

“What would make you take it off?” Your tone held fear, even if you did get all the words out.

“Well, if you disobey me, I’ll just punish you. But if I get the feeling that you’re against me in any way, I’ll not only take the choker off, but I’ll kill you too. That answer your question?” A different kind of fire brewed in his eyes then, and you didn’t want to push him further.

“I understand, Sir. I’m yours. I’ll be a good girl, I promise.” Instantly, you feel like you’re lying to his face. But when he smiles down at you, you smile back. You have no intention of non-compliance.

“Good girl. Now, why don’t you show me how grateful you are for my gift, Sunshine?” You don’t have to be told twice. You’re kneeling before he even finishes the sentence. 

His hands on your face as he cums down your throat scream romanticism and ownership all in one. When he pulls you up, he slides a hand into the slit in your dress and fingers his initials on your thigh.

“Mine.” He says as his other hand slides around your throat.

“Yours, Sir.” 

Maybe one day, you’ll reconcile the double-edged sword of being his. But for now, you can just relax and breathe in his Earthy scent while he claims you.

Part III

A/N: Good grief, this chapter took me so long to finish. Hope you enjoyed it!!! I think I still have more in me to give to this fic.

**Tag List**

@motivation-idontknowher @buckysteveloki-me @magnificentsaladllama @gyusbrownie @milknhonies @peyton-warren @raccoon-eyed-rebel

Let me know if you wanna be added (or removed) 😁

[filthyjoetini]

Stumblin' In

a/n: Part 2! Enjoy! Likes, reblogs and feedback are always welcome. The usual thank you goes out to @barfightzanddiscolightz for taking her time to beta read and edit and giving input &lt;3

warnings: none

wordcount: 2.6k

part 1 - part 3 - part 4

Part 2

Just as you had finally made yourself somewhat comfortable in the unforgiving embrace of the hospital bed, your bladder made itself known once again. Groaning, you pressed the call button for the fifth time in the past three hours. How much can one person piss? Stupid I.V. drip, you thought to yourself.

-

When they had first wheeled you into the emergency room, you were quickly surrounded by a flurry of nurses and a doctor. They had palpated your neck and spine as well as the back of your head and damn, did it hurt like a bitch. Because of your reaction to the examination and to be on the safe side, the doctor had ordered an x-ray of your neck, spine, and ribs.

You had immediately been pushed out of the emergency room, down a very long and bright corridor and into the x-ray room. In the x-ray room, you had bravely endured the examination, even squeezing your eyes shut, despite the x-ray technician telling you that nothing would happen. Your inner child, however, was hoping for at least one laser beam. Later, you blamed the concussion for your strange behaviour.

Back at the ER, the doctor had checked your results and fortunately found nothing more than a big bump and that your obvious concussion could be diagnosed. Additionally, they had confirmed what the paramedics had already told you: you would have to stay in the hospital for at least a 24-hour observation, and the worst part of it all was that you were not allowed to eat. So, they had put you on a drip, which fed you all the nutrients and medication directly into your bloodstream. The actual procedure turned out to be a mammoth task. It had taken them several tries to find a vein, and when they finally did, they had managed to pop one, turning your arm all bruised and blue. It looked like someone had twisted your arm.

-

“Hi. Do you need to go to the toilet again?”, the nurse asked with a smile, as she stepped into the room.

You nodded and pushed yourself up a little. Immediately, the nurse was at your side, tutting you.

“Dear, I’ve told you not to overexert yourself. I’m here to help you with that. Come on, take my arm.”

You grabbed her arm, and she pulled you into a standing position before taking the IV pole in her other hand and slowly leading you to the small adjacent bathroom.

Once the nurse had brought you back to your bed, you decided to scroll through TikTok, which you got bored with rather quickly. You thought about calling your best friend and your dad again but decided against it. Firstly, because they had both been alerted by the lady at the desk after she had entered you in the system, that you had been admitted to the hospital. You had insisted on giving her both names and phone numbers as emergency contacts and so they had both been waiting for you in your room as soon as ER had transferred you. Secondly, because it was already nearing midnight, and you were sure that they both would be asleep by now.

Before you closed your contact list, you saw it again. The short three-letter name that had only been on the list for a few hours: Joe.

Gingerly, you tapped on the name and a new iMessage chat opened.

Hey...

The three dots immediately appeared, and you almost threw your phone at the wall opposite your bed.

Hi there. How are you?

Blushing, you began typing your reply, your fingers gliding thoughtlessly over your phone’s touchscreen.

I’m fine, all things considered. I have to stay for a 24-hour observation, and I’m not allowed to eat solid food. They have me on a drip, which makes me piss like a horse...

Oh wow. Sorry to hear that 😉

Oh no! Oh fuck. Totally TMI.

Sorry! That was TMI!

Haha. No worries.

Chewing on your lips, you started typing again. You had one burning question to ask him.

OK. Cool. Um. Also. HOW THE HECK DID YOU PUT YOUR NUMBER INTO MY PHONE? DID YOU HACK IT?

Hahaha...do you seriously think I could hack a phone?

Yes?! I mean, it could be your job for all I know!

Hahaha. It’s far from what I do for a living.

Your phone was unlocked. I believe you turned off your auto-lock-thingy or whatever...

You quickly opened your settings, and he was absolutely right, you had it turned off. Snorting, you reopened the chat.

Wow there, IT-God, you were right.

IT-God...good one, Humpty Dumpty.

Stop calling me that!

What else am I supposed to call you. I don’t know your name. You’re Humpty Dumpty in my phone now.

Omg...noooo.

What’s your name, Bambi on ice?

Another one? Is he serious?, you thought with a groan but, quickly let him know your name.

Alright, changed it. See! *attachment*

Smiling at the visual confirmation, you let out a small yawn. Your eyes suddenly became very heavy.

I’m going to get some shut eye, I’m really tired.

Totally understandable. You had a rough day.

Bye Joe x

Bye...sleep tight. Keep me updated. x

---

You woke up from what you considered was the worst night’s sleep you had ever had. If it wasn’t the weird position you were forced to sleep in waking you, it was when a nurse would come check on you from time to time or help you when you needed to use the loo for the gazillionth time.

You were relieved when morning finally came. The first thing the nurse did, was to take you off the I.V. That meant no more peeing every 30 minutes. Thank fuck. She even brought you a small, stomach-friendly breakfast and informed you that the doctor would come by to discharge you soon.

Less than an hour later, the pleasant doctor handed you the discharge form as well as a prescription to take to the hospital pharmacy. You hadn’t shown any unusual symptoms which meant that your brain was working as intended. Therefore, the doctor decided that you could leave the hospital early.

Quickly, you informed your best friend and your dad about the good news, and they both asked you if they should come and pick you up. You told them they didn’t need to; you could find your way home just fine. Your dad, in his usual dad-manner, replied with a thumbs-up emoji whilst your best friend sent you the side-eye one. You knew exactly what she meant with it. Girl, if you fall again, I’ll kick your arse.

You chuckled and exited the message feed when another one caught your eye. It was the one you had started with Joe yesterday. His last message taunted you. He had asked you to keep him updated. So, you did.

Hey Joe!

Hey Tumbleina!

Stop it!

I’m being discharged early!

That’s great news! When?

You hurriedly checked your form. It said that you needed to pick up your medication from the in-house pharmacy and that it would be ready for pick-up at 12:45pm, which was in an hour from now.

I’m still waiting for my medication to be ready for collection which won’t be until 12:45...so, I think around 1-ish?

Cool! 👍

Yeah, I’m glad. Can’t wait to crawl into my bed.

I bet. Hospital beds are the worst.

Tell me about it.

Anyway, I thought I’d let you know. Because you were so adamant about it.

Thank you, very considerate of you to keep me, your saviour, in the loop.

You laughed out loud at his reply and responded with a series of laughing emojis before putting your phone down on the bed.

Too hastily, you changed out of your hospital gown and into your clothes. Your dad had brought you an overnight bag with comfortable clothes when he had come to visit you yesterday. However, the quick movement was too much for your bruised body and you hissed in pain. Slow down, you scolded yourself and continued to get ready at a slower pace.

You packed your few belongings into your duffle bag, cautiously slung it over your shoulder, and quickly glanced back to make sure you hadn’t forgotten anything.

When you arrived in the lobby, the receptionist asked you to wait in the waiting area until your name was called. Nodding, you sauntered over to the nearest available seat and ungraciously plopped down onto it. You retrieved your phone from your joggers to kill some time. You read the news and played some word-based online games.

You were just about to solve a rather tricky one when your name was suddenly called. Letting out a sigh that you hadn’t really intend to let out, you got up and trudged over to the chemist’s counter. The old lady behind it handed you a small plastic bag with your medication. It was ibuprofen and some sort of gel that you were supposed to rub on your neck and back. How you were supposed to do that yourself was beyond you. You quietly thanked the old lady who gave you a dismissive nod in return.

Slowly, you turned around and walked away from the counter towards the hospital’s exit. You were just checking your next tube connections on your phone when you heard someone clear their throat. Looking up, you saw a man standing by the litter bin, tapping his cigarette into the bin’s built-in ashtray. Why was this man trying to get your attention?

You squinted at him and all he did was stare back at you, with big brown chocolate button eyes. You let out a loud gasp.

“Joe?”

“Hey there, Bambi. Good to see you up and about.”, he chuckled, as he took the last drag of his cigarette.

“What the hell are you doing here?”, you asked in complete bewilderment, entirely ignoring his nickname for you and taking quick steps towards him.

Putting out his cigarette, he let out another chuckle.

“Well, I thought I could take you home...you know, make sure you don’t stumble over your own feet and fall again.”

“What makes you think I don’t have a ride home?”, you inquired, your hand now on your hip and his smile instantly began to falter.

“Oh shit! I didn’t think of that! Do you?”

“Nah.”, you giggled and he visibly relaxed, but his cheeks already held a red, embarrassed tint. “My dad and bestie asked me if they could come pick me up, but I declined.”, you continued. “It’s only a couple stops on the tube.”

“A few stops too many, if you ask me.”, Joe concluded, back on his confidence-track. He took a few steps towards you and held out his arms to you. “Let me accompany you home.”

“Fiiiine.”, you groaned, rolling your eyes and eventually linking your arm with his. “You’re insufferable.”

---

Your 20-minute ride home was the most eventful tube journey you had ever had. Joe made sure you held on to every railing, and if there wasn’t one available, his arm. He fussed over you like an overprotective boyfriend, which made your cheeks flush a little. No, you gotta stop thinking like that. He’s just helping!, you reminded yourself, shaking your head to get rid of those intrusive thoughts.

Still arm in arm with Joe, you exited the tube station closest to your block of flats and led the way down the street towards it.

“This is me.”, you announced, suddenly shy as you began to slow down your pace. Joe smiled down at you and let go of your arm.

“Nice house.”, he looked up at it. It was anything but nice. It was one of those ugly buildings straight out of the seventies and most of its residents had lived there since the beginning.

“Ah...it’s nothing. Most of my neighbours are elderly people. I basically live in a retirement home.”, you chuckled lowly, and Joe’s grin grew wider.

“Could be worse.”, Joe determined. “You could have a funeral parlour on the ground level.”

You gave him a puzzled, questioning look.

“Not that I have a funeral parlour in the building I live in.”, Joe clarified, giggling softly. “I just think that’s worse than living with the elderly.”

“You’re very strange, Joe.”, you snorted, shaking your head again.

“I’ve been told that before.”, he smiled broadly and shoved his hands into his trouser pockets.

“Hmmm...”, you hummed, glancing quickly at him. His eyes were fixed on your face, and you quickly averted your gaze.

“Uhm...thank you.”, you started, blushing once more. “For helping me yesterday and bringing me home just now. I really don’t know how I could make it up to you.”

“Hmmm...”, he copied you. Wanker. Then his face lit up like a thousand suns. “You know what? You could make it up to me by going on a date with me.”

Snorting, you threw your head back in laughter and rolled your eyes at him. When you looked at him again you saw him looking at you with anticipation. His big puppy eyes on full display. Fuck.

“Aaaalright. I’ll go on a date with you.”, you relented. How could you not? He could ask anything of you with those fucking adorable eyes.

“Brilliant!”, he replied, grinning from ear to ear, pulling you into his arms. Stunned, you wrapped your arms around him as well. He smelled just like he had yesterday: so damn good. Who needs air when you could live off his smell?

When he, too soon for your liking, pulled back a little, he winked at you and said: “I’ll let you know when and where.”

Gently, he let go of you completely and you nodded in agreement, head still too wrapped up in his scent to give him a vocal response.

“Shall I help you upstairs or are you good?”

“Huh?...”, you questioned, not quite hearing what he had said but since his thumb was pointing at your door you assumed you knew what was asking.

“Oh...uhm. I’m good. Thanks though.”, you smiled and slowly stepped towards the entrance of the house.

“Perfect.”, Joe said with a nod and slowly took a few steps back. “I’ll text you.”

“Yeah, alright. Let me know, when you get home.”, you requested without thinking, whilst rummaging through your duffle bag. Then you saw it, his trench coat. Before he could respond to your demand, you gasped and shouted:

“Joe! Wait!”

“Huh?”, he questioned, swiftly turning around and walking back to where you were.

“Your coat!”, you clarified, pulling it out of the duffle bag. Luckily, for once, it wasn’t accompanied by its other contents which would have spilled out all over the floor any other day.

Joe looked at you, confusion evident on his face but then he saw you pull out the familiar fabric and he suddenly remembered.

“Oh right! I gave it to you.”, he chuckled, and you carefully placed the coat in his outstretched hands, “Thank you.”

“It’s nothing.”, you dismissed him with a polite smile, “you asked for it back and I gave it back.”

Your pathetic attempt at indifference didn’t go unnoticed and it made him grin from ear to ear. Then he skilfully threw the coat over his shoulder and took the three steps down the stairs backwards, eyes locked with yours

You put your key in the lock and opened the door, bashful eyes on his now slowly retreating figure.

“Joe…let me know when you’re home, yeah?”, you repeated your request, just loud enough for him to hear.

“Will do. Bye, Bambi.”, he returned, almost shouting as he waved at you.

“Bye Joe.”, you called back, louder than him, rolling your eyes at his repeated use of the new nickname he had given you. Giggling, because to be honest, you thought the name was very cute, you entered your house and gently closed the door behind you.

---

Taglist:

@ohmeg @daleyeahson @lma1986 @palomahasenteredthechat @mandyjo8719 @aysheashea @eddiebaemunson @littledemon-lilith @freakymunson @sidthedollface2 @i-wont-run-this-time @plk-18 @miserybeans @kylakins88 @deadspellz @thehillzhaveeyez @kayleeelena97 @foreverjosephquinn @punctualhowell @icallhimjoey @ghostinthebackofyourhead @siriuslysmoking @cancankiki @definitionwanderlust @eriancrow @1paire2vans @theonewiththecrackedmind @fromasgardandback @captainonaboat @josephquinnsfreckles @emilyslutface @alessxaa

crossed out = couldn't tag

[tickletastic]

Tomato Red

Fandom: Teen Wolf

Ship: Liam/Theo, Mason/Corey

Summary: Theo's gotten more comfortable with touch, which seems to mean forgetting to hide the fact that he's ticklish.

Leaning over the counter, squinting down at the recipe card, scrawled years ago by Jenna Dunbar, Theo reaches for the measuring cup, walking Corey through the process of making fresh pasta sauce from Jenna’s fresh garden tomatoes. Corey was a disaster in the kitchen, but he got pretty good at the small stuff with Theo’s lessons, and after mastering alfredo, Theo figured tomato sauce wasn’t too much of a stretch. Corey watched patiently, nodding when Theo introduced him to a new ingredient or method, obediently grabbing every ingredient as Theo asked for them.  

Mason had wanted to learn too, to watch Theo’s mastery as he carefully guided Corey through the process, but Liam managed to goad him into a Mario Kart tournament, with a promise of free coffee for the next week if Mason could beat him. The two of them hunched over each other at the kitchen table, both trying to understand the chaos of the race on the Switch’s small screen, cursing and bickering as they kept passing each other by. Mason insisted on using the living room’s flatscreen to play, but Liam made an excuse and said he wanted to supervise Theo’s lesson, though Mason figured it had something to do with Theo’s reading glasses and the fact that the veins in his arms grew more visible the more he concentrated on the recipe. 

As the match comes to a close, Mason huffs through his nose, leaning back in the creaky wooden chair, declaring he needs a break lest he need glasses for his squinting. Theo sends him a playful glare, and Corey teases Theo about the thick black frames on his nose, reaching to smudge a fingerprint on them before Theo swats him away. They go back and forth, laughing and chiding each other on, until Theo rolls his eyes and turns back to the recipe card in his hand. 

“Would you grab the flour?”

Corey nods, but his mischievous smile is hidden from Theo, and, when he rounds Theo to reach for the flour in the cupboard, he tweaks the older boy’s side. Theo giggles–really, truly giggles– and jerks away from the offending hand. When Corey leans back in, getting Theo in the ribs, Theo just giggles and squirms like this is a normal occurrence, like he’s forgetting to be embarrassed by the sincerity of the interaction. 

When Theo effectively squirms away from Corey’s teasing fingers, a ghost of a smile on his lips, he notices the room has gone eerily silent, save for the annoyingly catchy Mario Kart menu music. He slowly turns around, suddenly self-conscious, and is met with the wide-eyed gazes of Liam and Mason, prompting a blush all the way up to his ears. 

Liam is, first and foremost, proud that they have managed to get Theo to a point where he doesn’t think twice about a friendly touch, doesn’t even flinch when he sees it coming from the corner of his eye, even lets it happen. Months ago, Theo would’ve tensed up at the slightest touch, would’ve made an excuse to leave, would’ve lashed out, but they’ve gotten to a point where he welcomes it, lets Corey tickle him playfully in the middle of a cooking lesson. He is, secondly, entirely too endeared by Theo’s brief, shrill giggle, the way he squirmed and wiggled away, the adorable lopsided smile that pulled at his lips. And finally, he is, of course, also delighted to find out that Theo is, seemingly, pretty damn ticklish. 

When Theo sees the mischief on Liam’s face, and the matching grin on Corey’s, he runs, but he’s nowhere near scared or nervous; Liam can smell the playful chemosignals in the air. In seconds, all hell breaks loose: Theo makes a dash towards the door, narrowly stopped by Corey and Liam blocking the exit, the kitchen chair Liam had sat in ending up on the floor, the flour forgotten on the counter. Theo scurries back to the wall, standing next to the open window, considering his options. His eyes are wide as he looks between Corey and Liam, and he keeps making quick, aborted glances towards the window. As if reading his mind, Liam raises his hands in surrender, and motions to Corey to keep his distance.

“Mason, come get your boyfriend,” Theo tries for a warning tone, but there’s a hint of breathlessness in the demand, a pull of a smile at the corner of his lips.  

From his spot at the table, Mason smirks, shaking his head resolutely, “No can do, dude. I want to see how this goes.”

Theo tries for a glare, but it’s hard to take it seriously when he’s cowering away from a little tickling. “I’m warning you, Mason. If you don’t collect one of these two, noses will be broken.”

“They have supernatural healing, and one of them has supernatural strength, I think they can handle it,” Mason responds, and there’s something in the flippantness of his tone that makes Theo that much more skittish. 

“Are you sure?” Theo dares to move his eyes from Liam and Corey to quickly glance in Mason’s direction, “because I’m pretty sure that Pretty Boy Corey, here, has never had his nose broken.”

“You think I’m pretty?” Corey teases, and Theo flashes him the finger, sticking his tongue out like a child.

“You’re so going to regret that in five minutes.”

Theo glances at the window, and Liam puts his hands up yet again, gesturing for Corey to back up a bit. “Hey, we won’t do anything, alright? Just stay here.”    

Theo nods hesitantly, taking half a step away from the wall. Liam smiles, taking a tentative step forward, and Theo is bolting back in seconds, a leg hiked out the window. Liam is just in time to grab Theo before he can fold himself out of the window entirely. 

Theo hits the floor with a dull ‘oomph’, quickly straddled by Liam at his hips.

“You are such a drama queen,” Liam says, rolling his eyes, a stupidly goofy, fond grin on his lips. He looks down at Theo with that cute lopsided look, that shiny mischievous glint, and Theo almost gets lost in it, almost forgets that the mischief is directed at him.

“I’m the drama queen? I must’ve learned that from you.” 

“From me? You’re the one-” Liam scoffs incredulously, “you know what? I don’t have to take this from you right now. Corey, come here.”

Corey grinned, rushing over to kneel beside Theo, smiling down menacingly at his best friend, reveling in watching him squirm. “I want to hear you beg for mercy.”

“Fat chance,” Theo huffs, eyebrows tight and pinched, “don’t forget you’re like a million times more sensitive than I am.”

Corey blushes, but tries to ignore Theo’s snark, he’s not the one about to get tickled to pieces afterall. “You sure about that? You’re so ticklish you can’t even say it.”

Theo ducks his head, trying to hide the blush on his cheeks from the teasing. He opens his mouth, hoping to try for something quick and biting, before he’s interrupted by his own boisterous, unbridled cackle. Liam’s wandering fingers tease at Theo’s hipbones, digging in and pinching sporadically. 

Liam laughs in response to Theo’s sudden, boisterous laughter, grinning down as the chimera tries to fight off the tickles. Theo gasps and wiggles, caught between tossing his head back and wanting to watch where Liam’s curious fingers go. The pinching at his hips has him hiccuping, squirming and trying to grab Liam’s hands. 

“Good spot!” Corey praises, his fingers starting to draw slow shapes on Theo’s collarbones, “that’s one of his worst spots, I’d say it’s a solid 8/10.”

“Shuhuhut up!” Theo screeches, grabbing one of Corey’s wrists and holding it hostage. Corey can’t help but laugh, Theo’s control of only one hand of his attackers not doing much at all for his situation, the other three still very much taking him apart.  

“What about here?” Liam asks Corey when his fingers wander up to Theo’s sides, scratching and spidering over the bare skin, exposed from Theo’s struggling. Theo goes from cackling to relentless, bubbly giggles, the stream so steady and unending that Liam worries he’s having trouble breathing. 

“Not as bad, like a six maybe?” Corey says, his brows furrowed in confusion, “but sometimes he-”

Theo takes in too much air all at once, and snorts loudly before filling the room with more breathless giggles. 

Liam can’t stop himself from audibly cooing, even more so once Theo starts to blush even harder, heat radiating off of his skin, “you know? It’s hard to believe we were once so scared of Theo when all it would’ve taken to defeat him is a little tickling.”

“Shuhuhut up! Shuhuhut uhuhup! Shuhuhuhut uhuhup!” Theo squeals, bucking harder as he feels Corey’s free hand wander down, dangerously close to his underarm. 

“Shhh,” Corey grins, leaning down so he can whisper directly into Theo’s ear, “don’t interrupt, the adults are talking.”

By the time Corey’s hand has finished its slow crawl under Theo’s arm, Liam’s hands have moved up to Theo’s ribs, and Theo lets out a sound that could only be described as a shriek, before descending into booming belly laughter. 

“Plehehase! I cahahn’t! I cahan’t!” Theo yells, head thrown back as he pushes against Corey and Liam’s hands. He squirms violently until he can’t anymore, fighting and squealing as Liam and Corey take him apart beneath their fingers. When the squirming tires him out, he’s left twitching and laughing as Corey and Liam go to town. 

“That’s a ten!” Corey exclaims, wiggling his fingers where they’re trapped under Theo’s arm. 

Liam smiles, watching tears of mirth form in Theo’s eyes, “any other ten spots I should know about?”

“Nohoho! No! Ihihim begging! Thihihis is mehehe begging! Please!” Theo shouts, kicking his legs behind Liam.

“Alright, alright,” Liam relents, pulling his fingers away. Corey is not nearly as merciful, and his restricted wiggling under Theo’s arm is what sends the chimera into silent laughter. 

When Theo starts to hiccup, head thrown back in ticklish agony, Liam leans forward and tasers Corey in the ribs, swatting him away while he giggles in response. Corey squirms away, backing up until he’s sitting on the floor next to Mason’s chair. Liam leans down, wiping sweat-slick curls off of Theo’s forehead, tenderly wiping tears of mirth from the corners of his eyes.

“You alright?” Liam smiles softly down at Theo, hovering an inch away from his face. 

“I will be,” Theo says, his usual sarcasm returning, “once I get some revenge.”

Before Liam can even react, he’s flipped underneath Theo, their previous positions reversed. A nervous grin breaks out on his face, hands up in front of him as a barrier between himself and Theo. He tries for puppy-dog eyes, but feels the nerves set in when he sees the menacing playfulness Theo shoots him. “Have mercy?”

“Not a chance.”