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#so I was like i apologise it won’t happen again .
aroaessidhe · 7 months
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2024 reads / storygraph
A Tale of Seashells & Shenanigans
YA fantasy
follows a grumpy 19yo who works in the fantasy thriftstore
when a girl tells them she accidentally donated her selkie sealskin on their watch, they have to go on a quest with her across the sea to the other store the donations were sent to against their will
but things quickly go wrong and they get stranded on a desert island, and they have to survive by busking, and hitchhike with some pirates to make their way there, and their frustration eventually grows into attachment
nonbinary ace disabled (cane user) MC, aroace ‘love interest’, QPR-ish
#A Tale of Seashells & Shenanigans#aroaessidhe 2024 reads#Hm.. I like the idea of this but it was a bit all over the place and I feel like the relationship development wasn’t great#the MC spends most of the book being pretty horrible to a very timid well-meaning autistic girl who isn’t mean back.#(like mutual antagonism can feel more even yknow?) Like yes this is the focus of their character development - we know why they’re like thi#the fact that they’re mean to her is very much addressed; they apologise eventually; the author is autistic and making intentional choices.#but......they apologise but then are mean again over & over. it keeps happening and it’s just not fun to read when it’s 80% of the book?#them being nice to her is a way smaller part and I just don’t really buy the love at the end.#I think the author’s strength is definitely in real world settings where it can just focus on the characters#- I feel like this kind of silly anachronistic fantasy world needs to be leaned into a bit more?#I also felt like Tillie was quite self hating (or: only focusing on the negatives) about being autistic and aroace with the MC there to tel#her that no it's ok! Of course that’s a realistic experience but I find when it’s so succinct like that it feels really….reductive; idk.#pet peeve i keep running into#I did kinda enjoy the detail of ‘I’m ace siren’s won’t effect me’ *immediately flings self overboard after hearing them* lmao#but yeah I feel like some sections of this could have been cut out and a couple things expanded on and I might have enjoyed it more
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deadandwalking · 4 months
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if teenage years are the best years of my life why am i apologising to the little girl in my head why am i fearing my family falling apart why am i failing to accept my bio family are not good for me why am i worried about grades and jobs and life why am i preparing to mourn my best friend why am i fearing growing old why do i miss what i never had why do i miss people who don’t miss me why am i disgusted by my own urges, wants and needs why do i cry over the things i love the most why do i seek comfort in fiction because reality is against me why do i fear the touch i crave why do i feel i am dying
#thinking a bit too hard now#am i even going to survive long enough to make it all ok#why does nobody see i’m a kid#also side note obsession hurts so fucking bad especially when your object causes guilt because you know it should be someone else#pattern recognition is a curse#mmm yknow what fuck it i’m gonna elaborate briefly on everything because fuck silence i deserve to be heard for once#apologising to Boo because i ruined her life#i fear my family falling apart because most of us want to die and it’s impossible to keep everyone happy it seems#the bio family kinda speaks for itself but uuuh yeah i am not accepting my sister is bad#worried about grades and jobs because there’s a lot less money at home now but my brothers won’t cut back so i have to#which is really fucking up my progress with my ed#preparing to mourn because Angel’s been dying a while now and now he’s trying to finish the job himself#fearing growing old because will i really be better or will i spend my life miserable and psychotic#i miss Vermin again#i want him back but he was never here#i miss Wade#but i don’t think he misses me#he’s been online he’s just ignoring me#disgusted because hypersexuality is a bitch and i’ve tried sliding it into conversations with people i really need to fucking talk about it#it’s starting to feel suffocating but i’m too fucking embarrassed still#like i know it’s just a coping mechanism for all the trauma but#i can’t help feeling disgusting still#i cry over my family near every day because i just want us to be fucking happy for once#i have been clinging so hard to newer headspace members to give the others a break#two of them just happened to take the form of Chris Redfield and Mewtwo#again a sex thing i want to feel like my husbands want me but i’m too scared to do anything yet#ok confession done i’m gonna regret this tomorrow but whatever who really cares
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voiceshearingyouloud · 8 months
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I was like dude why am I spilling my guts to my parents even after everything and why am I risking letting something slip that I don’t want to, and how do I stop doing that. And then I realised that I’m trying to fix my parents’ relationship with my brother and I went ah. I need to stop trying to fix other people’s relationships because it is not my job as the child to explain emotional maturity to my parents, nor do I need to hear ‘there are always extenuating circumstances’ from my mother ever again.
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strawbabycowboy · 1 year
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i left the floor today for a personal convo, and then lied abt it to my manager - who immediately called me on it. because he saw me leave . and while im like i shouldn’t have lied, absolutely, why didn’t you just ask me . why i left the floor during a busy time, and reprimand me from there? like , i realise you wanted to see if i would lie, but then you just made me panic .
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cringe-but-proud · 21 days
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Can I request headcanons for Kurt, Remy, Logan, and Wade reacting to his gender neutral crush kissing him because they're so in love with him before apologising when they realised what they just did please?
Ofc!!
X-Men with a gn!crush!Reader who suddenly kisses them 🤯🤯🤯
Includes: Remy LeBeau, Wade Wilson, Logan Howlett, and Kurt Wagner
A/n: I love them a normal amount. This took me a long time to write because tumblr kept deleting all of my work 😋😋😋 But, it’s here now. Hope you freaks annoy it. Requests are OPEN 💜
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Remy:
It happens one day when you guys are in the kitchen cooking together
Remy (ever the opportunist) is helping you out by occasionally guiding your hands or gently grabbing your waist/hips whenever he moves past you. And you're definitely not complaining
Overall, the vibes are very flirtatious and cutesy, and you sort of get caught up in it.
After the food is in the oven and Remy is washing dishes, you walk over and kiss him.
Remy damn near drops the bowl he was rinsing, but he manages to keep his cool and almost immediately starts kissing you back
You're the first to pull away because it suddenly clicks for you that you're kissing your friend, so you break the kiss to start apologizing
"What you apologizing for, mon Ami?"
"I kissed you."
"And? I certainly didn't mind."
Remy has liked you for a while. That was pretty obvious to everyone. Everyone except you, since you thought he was just being flirty with you like he was with nearly everyone.
But, that's obviously not the case. He makes sure to make that very clear.
Once all of your feelings are cleared up, Remy pulls you closer to him by your hips and smirks softly. "You wanna try and kiss me again? For real this time?"
His ass did NOT finish those dishes 💀
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L ogan:
He comes back from a long mission, exhausted and not really in the mood for dealing with anyone
Well, that is until he sees you walking down the hallway. Then he decides he can maybe deal with one more person.
You're happy to see him back, wrapping your arms around him in a warm embrace that he didn't know he needed
"Ugh, I missed you!"
“You say that every time I come back from a mission."
"Yeah, because it's true."
He missed you too, but you don't need to know that.
You pull back from him just to lean in and kiss him.
That's probably the last thing he expected you to do. I mean, yeah he really like you, but he'd always been certain that you'd never want a guy like him.
After a moment of shock, he starts kissing you back, arms tightening around you
You pull away to ask "is this okay?" And he doesn’t even let you finish, just pulls you in for another kiss.
Sorry. He’s just wanted this for such a long time.
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Wade:
He's liked you for a pretty long time. But, he knows you probably won’t like him back with how he looks. And he tells himself he’s fine with that.
But, since you two have been friends for a while, you get curious. So, you ask if you can see his face.
He agrees eventually and pulls his mask off to show you.
Normally he doesn't get so nervous to show people his real face. But, it's different with you. He doesn't think he can just laugh off your disgust.
When he pulls his mask off and your eyes widen, he immediately assumes the worst
"Yeah. Hideous, I know. Not the chiseled supermodel that I sound like under the-"
"Wade, you're like, hot."
"Excuse me?"
He can't believe it. Actually, he doesn't believe it. After you repeat yourself, he starts telling you that he doesn't need you to lie to him and that's when you cut him off with a kiss.
He pulls away immediately just because of utter shock "Woah! Cool down, hot stuff. What are you doing?"
You tell him you've always liked him, and that you still like him (maybe even like him more) now that he's shown you his face.
He's over the moon.
"Well, why didn't you tell me sooner? We could've been doing this all along!"
"Doing what?"
And then he kisses you again. Heheheheehehehe 👅👅👅
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Kurt:
Kurt loves helping you with anything and everything whenever he can. It’s one of the ways he shows his appreciation for you.
So, when you receive a (very minor) injury during training, he’s at your side almost immediately
He drags you away and makes you sit down, treating your small cut as if it were a leg that had fallen off
“Don’t move, Schatz. I will be back with a first aid kit.”
“Kurt, you don’t need to-“
“Stay, please.”
So, you let him patch you up, and he does far too much for a wound that you could probably just slap a bandaid over
But, you don’t mind. You admire him as he’s crouched down to the floor, delicately treating the small cut on your knee
And then he looks up at you with those bright, yellow eyes and he smiles. And you can’t help yourself. You lean down to him and kiss him.
This poor boy is so surprised he can’t do anything. He just freezes up. So, you assume you’ve done something wrong and you pull away.
“I’m so sorry. I thought- I was just-“
“Please do that again.”
“What?”
“Please.”
And you do 🧚‍♀️
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luveline · 5 months
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hellooo I have a request for Spencer x bombshell! reader (I'm not sure if you've done this before and if you have I apologise!!) but like they're on a case and one of them gets pretty badly hurt somehow & then the other is really worried about them & stuff and then I'm not sure (I think this could be good but not the way that I have spoken about it and so I'm very very sorry!!)
u r so awesome don’t worry!!
cw canon typical violence and injury
Everything is crisp and quiet at the precipice of the stakeout. You adjust your gun where it’s poised over the roof of an SUV away from a moving officer’s body. The negotiator adjusts the megaphone at their thigh nervously, waiting for Hotch’s go ahead. You’re all waiting for it. A hand raised, sending you in, hostage recovered, a long case coming to a short close. 
“Don’t forget your leg,” Spencer says to you under his breath. 
“Trust me, babe, I can’t forget it,” you say back, glancing quickly at him to your left. He’s facing forward, trained on the window where you’d last seen the unsub. The distance between you both and the danger is small, less than three feet of space. You and Spencer don’t have a clear shot, the agent’s behind you better equipped and better trained, but you can make do in a pinch. 
“Hurting?” he whispers. 
“Half as bad as it was yesterday.” 
“I have a bad feeling.” 
“Yeah?” You follow Hotch’s hand. The negotiation begins. You and Spencer don’t talk again. 
The unsub is sour, the victim terrified. When the screaming inside begins in earnest, the FBI rolls inside, confident in taking down the unsub, if a little worried about the victims wellbeing. You and Spencer sweep in less than ten inches away from each other, unafraid, and you don’t see the sledgehammer until it’s hitting you in the jaw, spraying blood like dark ink over Spencer’s pale cheek. 
“I don’t care if that’s what you recommend.” A drag of a soft touch somewhere on your skin. “Sincerely. I want a second opinion.” 
“It’s a mandibular fracture, we have a suitable follow up procedure.” 
“I understand, but I’m doing what she’d want me to do. When she wakes up, she’ll say the same thing, and so there’s no point in starting the paperwork for a procedure she won’t agree to.” 
“I doubt her cosmetic preferences will outweigh functionality.” 
It’s Spencer’s voice, Spencer’s hand on your leg. He’s reaching back to hold you as he defends you. “Respectfully, you don’t know her. I don’t want to talk about it anymore. She needs peace and quiet.” 
The doctor harrumphs but leaves. Quiet is restored, and for a while you doze, the only thing at your attention Spencer’s hand where it climbs. He takes your hand. You know his fingers well where they twine between yours. 
A few hours pass by in sluggish slee, the bed elevated to an uncomfortable sitting position. 
“Hey?” he asks, fingertips to the hill of your shoulder. “Are you waking up?” 
You can’t make your mouth form words. Your eyes flash open in shock.
“Hey, don’t panic. I’m sorry, I’m going to explain, but please don’t panic.” 
You wait. 
Spencer stands in a rumpled shirt, hair in his eyes, glasses slipping down his nose. “Your jaw is broken, fractured, actually, pretty badly. You’ve had so much pain relief over the last few hours I’m surprised you can even open your eyes, and it’s good you’re struggling to move your mouth because it would only hurt anyways.” He claps your arm gently. “I’m sorry. I’m not going anywhere though, okay? I’m right here.” 
That’s not what scares you; you know Spencer’s gonna stay. It’s not a question. 
Your hand strays up to your face. 
“It’s not bad,” he swears, and perhaps lies. 
“Spence,” you manage, a croak that aches and lisps at once. 
“It’s okay,” he says, leaning down. “Please don’t get upset.” 
You blink tearfully. You don’t remember what happened, just the flash of pain and now Spencer looking down at you like you’re wounded. He sits carefully on the side of your bed and grabs you by the waist, two hands on your sides and arms resting on your stomach, like a hug that hasn’t crept forward. 
“You won’t like the bruise,” he says apologetically. 
“Bad?” you whisper. 
“It’s all the way up to your eye. He also chipped two of your teeth… I’m so sorry, angel. It was my fault.” He thumbs your ribs. “I’ll fix everything. I already talked to your dentist, and tonight they’re coming back to talk about your plastics because the blow split your skin, okay? But you're mostly fixed already.” 
“‘M I… still pretty?” you ask. 
“Still the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen,” he says, not half as shyly as he’d usually would. 
You cry panicked, dribbly tears. He rubs shapes into your sides and swears again that it’ll all be okay, and it’s not that you don’t believe him, it’s just that it’s really starting to hurt. 
“Had a bad feeling,” he says, wiping your tears as gently as he can before they can wet the bandaging on your jaw.
“Did you get him for me?” you ask. 
Morgan clears his throat from the doorway to announce his arrival, a coffee cup in hand, pastry bag hanging between his pinky and marriage finger. He sounds like he’s about to laugh, “Did you, lover boy?” He beams at you. “I’ve never seen him pistol whip someone before. You would’ve loved it.”
You groan in agony. Missing out on seeing that is almost as bad as breaking your jaw. 
“I’ll recreate it for you,” Spencer promises. 
“And now it’s time for him to eat,” Morgan says, putting the pastry bag on the bed, “and get some sleep. He hasn’t slept in the two days you’ve been in here.”
“I had important stuff to take care of,” he says, rubbing your side. “While you couldn’t do it yourself.”
“Sleep,” you insist through your achy mouth.
Spencer’s eyes go soft and sad. “I will.”
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lightsoutletsgo · 6 months
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flowers are a language of their own — mv.1
pairing: max verstappen x reader word count: 4.2k warnings:  slight angst
four times max gives you flowers and the first time you reciprocate, a childhood friends to lovers oneshot this is basically inspired by gwen and for gwen 😭 @verstappen-cult once again thanking you for my max brain rot bc these conversations are just DOING something to me skskksjsj but MWAH! I hope you like it my love 🤍 happy reading! mimi
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i. daisies; new beginnings, innocence, cheerfulness (age 6) You hadn’t been at your new school very long, having moved to the town recently. You’d struggled with making new friends, the new language making things even more difficult. But this had really ruined your day. Your bottom lip jutted out and began to wobble as you looked at your drawing you’d spent the whole morning perfecting before tidy-up time. What had once been a beautiful explosion of scribbled crayon colours across one page now lay in two halves. It was more than your poor six year old brain could handle and so you immediately burst into tears. Wailing and sobbing, your teacher hurried over to see what the issue was. Between gasping inhales and snotty sobs you pointed to your crumpled torn drawing. She picked it up and turned to address the class of wild six year olds, “Alright class, does anybody know what happened to Y/N’s picture?” Your teacher’s voice was gentle, “You won’t be in trouble but our friend is very sad so we need to apologise and make it right okay?” Your bottom lip wobbled as your sniffles quietened a little and a small voice could be heard from the back of the classroom, “I didn’t mean to!” A small boy stepped forwards, bright blonde hair with blue eyes and you glared at him. He looked down at the floor as he awkwardly scuffed his shoe against the carpet. The teacher approached him and crouched down, “Thank you for being honest Max… Can you come and say sorry?” He nodded and took the teacher’s hand as she lead him over to you, “I’m sorry…” His apology was accented by a slight lisp and you frowned, arms crossing in front of your chest. “Thank you Max, Y/N? Max said it was an accident and that he’s sorry okay?” You let out a slight ‘hmmph’ as the teacher straightened up at the sound of the lunch bell. Max was quick to run out of the classroom with his friends but you plodded behind the group, still sad about your artwork. 
You grabbed your lunchbox from your locker and looked for a chair in the lunch hall. Spotting your favourite yellow chair you couldn’t help but gasp as your little legs headed over as fast as they could carry you. You sat down and opened your lunchbox, legs swinging under the table. You’d barely taken two bites of your sandwich before a boy approached the table. You looked up and saw Max standing there, his hands behind his back. “I’m sorry I broke your drawing.” Max did his best to speak so you’d understand.  “‘S fine.” You grumbled, annoyed he was talking to you. Six year old you could really hold a grudge… His cheeks tinted pink as he removed his hands from behind his back to hold out a small bunch of daisies he’d clearly picked from the playing field. Your eyes widened and your mouth dropped open. “Here, for you…” He took a step closer and you held your hand out for him to gently place the flowers in your palm. Your eyes looked at him and you noticed how his knees were slightly muddy and there was a streak of dirt on his cheek. You giggled and he beamed back at you, you suddenly felt very shy,
“D-do you want to sit here?” You patted the seat next to you, “We can eat lunch together?” Max nodded, racing off to grab his lunchbox. He dashed back and sat next to you, unzipping his lunchbag to compare the contents with yours. “Are we going to be friends Max?” He nodded enthusiastically, taking your hand in his, “Mhmm! Best friends Y/N! So you can call me Maxie!” 
ii. yellow amaryllis; pride, happiness, strength, determination (age 18) “Smile!” You stood with your friends, taking pictures in your graduation gowns and giggling together. But your heart panged, something - or rather someone - was missing from your day. Your eyes scanned the hall, desperately looking for a familiar blonde head. Despite knowing he was currently halfway round the world at a Grand Prix, “Boo!” A hand covered your eyes and a grin spread across your face at the familiar voice, “Maxie!” Turning around, you jumped into his arms and he laughed out loud, “Easy there bug!” You could hear your friends and family laughing and taking pictures of the two of you behind you but you still didn’t pull away, too embarrassed to let anyone see that you had tears welling up in your eyes. “I didn’t think you’d be able to make it…” Max squeezed you a little tighter, “I left as soon as the race was over, there was no way I was missing this!” You pulled back and he wiped the tear that had slipped down your cheek. He let go of you and extended his arm towards you, holding out a beautiful bouquet of yellow amaryllis flowers, complete with yellow and white ribbons. 
“Max,” you gasped “they’re so beautiful!” he nudged your shoulder with his, “Hey, you deserve it. They stand for pride, strength, happiness and determination.” “Determination” You spoke at the same time, finishing the sentence together. His eyes stared at you so adoringly, you felt like you couldn’t catch your breath. The moment was broken by your parents urging you to stand together for a picture. “What a beautiful couple!” You heard a teacher say as they walked past, “Oh no we’re not-” “Me and him? No way-” Both you and Max spoke over each other, completely missing the knowing looks your friends and family all gave each other. You couldn’t help the fresh wave of giggles that overtook you as Max pulled you into his side. You could have sworn that for the briefest of seconds, butterflies took flight in your stomach but you quickly brushed it off, blaming it on the excitement of the day. 
iii. - yellow roses; friendship | bluebells; comfort (age 22) Max couldn’t deny the way that panic flashed through his entire body when he answered your call and heard nothing but your sobs on the other end. “Maxie!” You hiccuped, “Y/N? What happened? Are you okay?” He stood up, not caring that he was interrupting an important team meeting. His alarm grew even more when your only response was to cry even harder. He looked back at the group of people sat around the conference table, “I’m sorry but it’s a family emergency, I have to go.” He raced down the corridor and poked the elevator button far more times than was necessary. “Talk to me bug… I can’t help if you don’t explain what’s going on.” “He cheated Max! I went to his place and he was in bed with my roommate.” Max felt a weird combination of calm and anger wash over him at the same time. Calm because he knew you were safe and anger because who the fuck did your boyfriend, well ex-boyfriend, think he was? Fuck the elevator, Max headed for the stairs, wanting to get to his car and book a flight to you as soon as possible. “Oh Y/N…” “Said he only did it because he knew that I’d been cheating on him with you.” You heard Max scoff, “God he’s so fucking dumb Y/N… I never really liked him, you know that right? You’ve always been too good for him…” You heard Max sigh on the other end of the line and you curled up into an even smaller ball in your bed, pulling Max’s hoodie up even more as your nose inhaled the comforting scent of him, 
“Can we move to facetime? Just wanna see you.” You choked out and he obliged, quickly filling your request. Max felt his heart breaking as he looked at you in your bed. “Hey! Is that my hoodie, bug?” You nodded with a sniffle as he did his best to cheer you up even just a little, “Traitor! You told me you didn’t know where it had gone…” A watery smile spread across your face. “Look, I’m gonna come see you okay?” You sat upright and stared at him hard, “Max Emilian Verstappen, you cannot do that! You have important meetings this week.” “Ooo full name?” He hissed through his teeth, “I am in trouble.” You shook your head at him, “You’re incorrigible.” “Big words we’re using today hmm?” You flipped him off and he laughed, “I’ll be there soon, bug okay?” You nodded and he smiled at you once more, “Just hang in there for a little longer.” He ended the call and immediately your smile dropped. In those brief few seconds you’d forgotten why you’d even called him in the first place. But now in the quiet of your apartment, the sad feelings crept up once more, smothering you and dragging you down. 
You weren’t sure when you’d fallen asleep the night before, but the combination of the doorbell ringing and the knocking on the door jolted you awake. Rushing to the front door, you threw it open, still slightly disorientated from your rude awakening, “Hey bug.” “Maxie!” You felt wide awake staring at Max who now stood on your doorstep, a warm smile across his face. You immediately felt like bursting into tears once more and Max was quick to see that, pulling you into his chest and wrapping his arms around you as he rested his head on top of yours. “It’s okay bug,” you felt him press a kiss to the top of your head, “I got you.” He waddled with you in his arms, through your doorway and into the hallway to close the door and give you some privacy. As he held you, he felt his heart race a little, thinking how he would never make you or let you cry like that if you were his girl - wait what? Now was not the time to be thinking about those kinds of things! Max held you until your sobbing had quietened down again, “Sorry,” you sniffed all snotty and he just poked your nose and laughed gently, “It’s okay Y/N.” His hand gently rubbed your arm as he watched you take a few deep breaths to compose yourself, “Here.” He pulled a somewhat squished bouquet of flowers out of what seemed like nowhere, “Sorry, they got a little uhhh… too involved in the hug?” You let out a breath of laughter and took them from him, a finger gently tracing the petals, “Yellow roses? For friendship right?” Max nodded with a smile, “Yellow roses, because I’m always gonna be your best friend who has your back and bluebells because they’re comforting.” You couldn’t help the way your heart clenched hearing his words. It seemed that Max not only bought you flowers often but he even thought of the meaning of what he was buying. For some reason, the thought had those pesky flutters appearing in your stomach but you quickly reprimanded yourself and shook them off. You hadn’t even broken up with your ex for more than 24 hours yet, but here you were thinking about Max romantically? You shook your head, that was a line you could never think of crossing, no matter how much it seemed to be crossing your mind more and more the older you got. 
iv. pink tulips; perfect love, affection (now) Now that you were living in Monaco, not too far from Max, movie nights were a common occurrence, with evenings being split between your apartment and his. Food would be ordered and wine would be drunk, movies would be played but barely watched as the two of you would end up talking into the night and continue long after the credits had finished rolling. If there was one thing you could count on Max for, it was his promptness and so when the clock read seven o’clock exactly, you knew it would only be a matter of seconds before you heard his footsteps down the hallway to your apartment. You were proven correct as Max let himself into your apartment, calling out as he did so, “Hey bug! It’s just me!” “In the living room!” You called back, smiling as he appeared in the doorway, holding something behind his back, “What have you got there hmm?” Max’s smile wavered for a second and you frowned, sitting up on the couch, “Max?” He exhaled and bit his lip nervously, “Maxie?” You tried again much more softly, not wanting to make him uncomfortable, “I’m about to say something and…” He sighed, “I just want you to let me finish okay?” You nodded confused as he came to sit next to you, holding out a bouquet of pink tulips as he did so. You felt yourself gasp as you stared at the flowers, admiring the pretty wrapping and how the ribbon matched the flowers. You wracked your brain as you stared, desperately trying to recall the meaning, Max always gave flowers with meaning. Appreciation? No, apology? Nope not that... No. It couldn’t be? Could it? “Affection?” You didn’t even realise you’d spoken the word out loud but a sharp inhale from Max was enough to tell you he’d heard you. Your eyes shot up to his face and noticed he wouldn’t even look at you, instead choosing to gently trace over the bouquet ribbon, “Yes.” His cheeks were pink and you could have sworn you stopped breathing. It was silent in your apartment. The only noise coming from the traffic outside and the thump of your neighbour as their work boots clunked over the floor before their door slammed. The noise pulled you out of your silence as you stared at Max, “What did you just say?” Max finally dared to look up as he gazed into your eyes, “Pink tulips, affection, perfect l…” “Perfect what?” There was no way he was going to say what you thought he was going to say… “Perfect love.” You stood up from the couch, immediately pacing back and forth as your hands started to fumble together, “Max…” You breathed, finally stopping to look at him sat staring at you. “Okay so this is the part where I need you to listen…” You let out a laugh of disbelief but said nothing as he swallowed, hands nervously rubbing the legs of his jeans. “I like you.” You froze as he continued, “I like you and I think I honestly have for a while… I know that this might not be the best time to tell you but I just can’t keep kidding myself anymore. The feelings I have for you? They’re not things I would be feeling if you were just a best friend to me Y/N. God I think I always knew it was you… From the day I ruined your drawing and then when I surprised you at your graduation… And then that horrific breakup,” You both winced, “I swore then that I would never let you cry over another man like that again. Because I wanted to be the only man that you had from then on.” Your lips parted as a nervous exhale left you. He stopped his rambling, panting slightly as he looked at you, “If you have anything to say, now would be a good time to say it…” You looked at him. Max, your Max. The boy that had been there for you through everything, your best friend.
“No…” You whispered out, your own heart breaking at your words, “I can’t…” Max looked absolutely crushed, “No?” His voice was quiet, “Why?” You shrugged, bottom lip trembling, “I can’t risk losing you.” Max scoffed, “Losing me?” “What if we break up hmm? You’re telling me we would be able to go back to being best friends like nothing ever happened? What if it doesn’t work hmm?” Max shook his head as your spoke, “You think I would say this to you if I didn’t think it would work?” “I-I… I don’t know!” You exclaimed as Max stood up, “You won’t even try?” “I’m too scared to Max…” He nodded, stuffing his hands into his pockets as you stared at him, “I’m so sorry.” You whispered, “Me too.” he said before turning and walking out. The door hadn’t even closed behind him before you’d collapsed to the floor, your legs giving out. You’d never cried so hard because of him before. Not when he’d ripped your drawing, not when he'd surprised you at graduation, not even when he’d held you after your breakup. 
You stared at the pink tulips as they lay on your couch, their bright happy hopeful colour taunting you. You stalked over to them and picked them up, heading straight to the trash, pulling your arm back to throw them away but you found yourself physically unable to do it. 
i. flowers are a language of their own You weren’t sure whether it was convenient or not that Max had a double header after that conversation. Usually you would spam him while he was away and he would pick things up when he could. Often late at night in his hotel bed, a goofy grin plastered across his face as he opened your fit pics and food diary pics of the day, reading through your spam about work, friends and cute cats you’d spotted on the street.
But this time there had been nothing. From either of you. It had been strange and hurtful. You sighed as you checked your phone again for the millionth time that day, already knowing there would be no new notifications from him. Why would there be? The guy you liked had confessed to you and you’d broken his heart because you were too scared he’d break yours. Groaning you dropped your head to the kitchen counter, thumping your forehead against it a few times in the hope of gaining some sense of clarity. It didn’t work. You sighed and stood up straight. You were still kicking yourself for shutting him down so quickly. Yes, he was your Maxie, your best friend, but wasn’t that the point? He knew you so well, he cared for you and loved you, in whatever capacity. He would never intentionally hurt you. You couldn’t lie to yourself, there had been a continuous pull in your stomach and a slight ache in your chest the longer you went without talking to him. You knew if you could do the situation over again you would give a completely different answer. You didn’t want him to break your heart but now you had lost him completely. 
Your head shot up as a plan began to form in your head. Grabbing your phone you looked up plane tickets for the country you knew Max was in at the moment. You knew things would be tricky without his help and you didn’t even know if it would work out, but for him you had to try. Selecting your seat you rushed to pack a bag, noticing how the now dry and dead tulips still lay on your bedroom vanity, the pink now much less vibrant and tinged with brown. Your stomach flipped and you hoped to god it would all work out. You knew which hotel the team usually stayed at when they were racing in that specific country and so after making a quick stop you headed straight there, planning to just wait until you were spotted by someone from the team who recognised you and took pity on you. You didn’t have to wait long as one of Max’s race engineers was exiting the building just as your taxi pulled up. Clambering out of the vehicle as you spotted him, he smiled and waved, “Hey! Didn’t know you were coming this weekend? Max usually says something.” “Ah,” you shuffled awkwardly, not wanting to give anything away about your strained relationship, “it’s a surprise!” His eyes widened and he grinned at you knowingly, especially when he spotted what you carried in your arms. “Well… Seeing as it’s you, I’ll give you his room number.” After obtaining the information you needed you thanked him and headed inside, getting on the elevator and pressing the button for his floor as you thanked whatever higher powers there were that so far the plan was working. As the bell dinged for your floor you gulped, a whole new wave of nerves and anxiety washing over you. What if he didn’t want to see you? What if he got angry with you and sent you away? But what if he heard you out? Oh crap, what were you gonna say? 
Through your internal rambling, you had somehow managed to walk to his door and now you stood frozen. Unable to knock and unable to move. Swallowing the lump in your throat you knocked the door gently. You heard a crash and then a curse in Dutch came from inside and you winced. Oh god, if he was already in a bad mood… This wouldn’t help. The door swung open and a tired looking Max stood there. Dressed in cosy sweatpants and navy hoodie, no logos in sight but still fitting his team colours. His eyes widened as he took in the sight of you in front of him.  “Y/N?” You gave the softest of smiles nervously, “Hi Maxie.”
You weren’t sure what you’d expected when you saw him. You’d thought about how he might yell or cry or get mad or slam the door in your face but you certainly hadn’t expected him to grab your arms and pull you into a hug, burying his face in your neck, “Fuck, I missed you so much I’m so sorry…” You sniffled, pulling back and looking at him, “Why are you sorry?! I’m sorry! I never should have doubted you-” “I never should have pressured you-” “You didn’t! I never should have jumped to conclusions about how things would end. God. It’s been so miserable without you…” You noticed his eyes growing tearful. “Here, come in.” He gently pulled you into the room and closed the door behind you. Your eyes swept the room and zeroed in on an object on his bed, “Is that my t-shirt?” You asked incredulously, mouth gaping at him slightly as he rushed to shove it in his suitcase, “N-no!” “Max Emilian…” Your voice was low, “M-maybe…” You gave him a pointed stare and he relented, “Okay yes fine it is.” He sighed, “I found it at my apartment that night when I got back and… I just… I didn’t have you and it was the closest thing…” He trailed off, sitting on the bed. You padded across the room to take a seat next to him, one hand gently rubbing his back, “I know Maxie… Me too.” His head rested on your shoulder and you inhaled shakily, it was now or never. 
You looked back across the room at where your things lay in the entrance. You stood up and made your way over, picking up what you needed before turning back to him with your arms behind your back. “I’m about to say something…” His head shot up to look at you, “and I need you to let me finish.” You gave him a tearful smile and he swore he felt his breathing quicken as you practically echoed his words from a few weeks ago. You approached him and offered him the bouquet from behind your back. He stared at it for a moment before his eyes flicked up to look at yours.
“Red roses?” You nodded, unable to keep looking at him - partly shy and partly terrified of his answer, until he gently held your chin and tilted your head up to meet his gaze once more, “Red roses.” “You know what they mean don’t you?” “I picked them for a reason.” He stood up and gently took them from you, one hand sliding round your waist to pull you into him, “Baby’s breath?” “Baby’s breath.” You looked down, breathing your answer as his face got closer to yours. “Is this your speech then?” You let out a breath, “I figured I would let the flowers speak for themselves, god knows you’ve been doing it long enough.”
His lips were practically on yours and it took everything in you to keep standing as his next words were brushed against your lips, “Is this your answer then?” You nodded, “No schat, please… Let me hear you say it…” His eyes closed as he felt your shuddering breath, “Yes, Max. Yes, I want to try with you, I love you and that’s enough to tell me we should try-” Any further words you had were cut off by Max’s lips meeting yours. His grip around your waist tightened, the flowers sliding from his other hand to the floor as he gently cupped your face, thumb rubbing back and forth across your cheek. You couldn’t help the way you smiled against his lips and he laughed at the feeling, the two of you giggling and grinning between kisses like the lovesick idiots you were. 
Red roses; declaration of love, Baby’s breath; eternal love.   
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astonmartinii · 1 year
Text
into the arms of another part two | max verstappen social media au
pairing: max verstappen x reader
part two to this !! part three
yourusername
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liked by arthurleclerc, maxverstappen1 and 661,230 others
yourusername: winner winner chicken dinner !! congrats maxy i’m so proud of you always
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user1: i know charles’ head is hot right now
user2: i hope netflix are taking notes cause this tea is steaming hot
maxverstappen1: thank you baby, helps when i have the prettiest cheerleader in the world
yourusername: i am the sexiest sargent in all of the orange army
maxverstappen1: too right you are
user3: i miss when y/n was the head of the tifosi the red monochromatic fits ate so hard
user4: i need charles to pull his head out of his ass and apologise so we can reclaim her before monza
user5: do not even bring up the fact we may not have custody of her for monza
danielricciardo: leave some for the rest of us maxy
yourusername: no actually i think it’s illegal for max not to win sorry
danielricciardo: will that change if charlie apologises?
yourusername: considering that hasn’t happened and doesn’t look to be happening any time soon - no.
user6: CHARLES PLEASE DO SOMETHING
user7: he doesn’t have to do anything, she’s just bitter cause she’s always been the bridesmaid and never the bride. we ALL know she’s always loved charles and she can’t handle that she’s not the centre of his attention it’s kinda pathetic
maxverstappen1: what made you think you know any of us enough to comment something like this? what told you that you even had a right to talk about y/n like that? she’s everything you could ever wish to be and more and she will never ever deserve the things you people are saying about her. charles would be lucky to have y/n in his life platonically or romantically but it’s his loss
user8: boyf of the year right here
user9: charles take note ^^^ this is how you’re meant to defend your best friend
landonorris: i am once again asking for photo credits i’m not gonna be your personal photographer for free
maxverstappen1: i literally paid for your dinner
yourusername: you’re literally a millionaire
landonorris: i don’t care a man still likes to be wined and dined
yourusername: just to make it clear we are not looking for a third
user10: i promise i can change your mind give me a chance
f1tea
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liked by user11, user12 and 2,349 others
f1tea: charles leclerc caught liking this tweet about the situation between him and y/n. seems like he won’t back down on this. what do you think?
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user13: i need this mans head on a spike i’m so serious
user14: i want to play pinball with the single marble in his head
user15: i think ferrari have genuinely caused real head rot in him cause no way he thinks this is a serve
user16: let's be real charles' biggest rivals are ferrari and himself
user17: not this man at his BIG AGE is liking shady tweets about his best friend
user18: i think it's safe to say they're not best friends any more
user19: also "biggest rival" my ass max and charles are fucking friends now so this whole narrative is complete horse shit
user20: i'm so bored of charles playing the victim bro YOU ARE THE INSTIGATOR YOU ARE THE PROBLEM
user21: the way charles is liking shit like this but max is writing whole ass essays in the comments defending her
user22: and that''s why i'll always back that she ended up with the right man
user23: max is so far in the lead in the championship i need him to take charles out for the narrative
user24: are we in high school? like seriously this is so fucking petty i cannot wait for media day this weekend
user25: he's either gonna be the funniest man in the world or he's gonna bite someones fucking head off
user26: and i'll back it either way
user27: i know y/n is about to have her revenge dress moment in the paddock someone get kym illman ready STAT.
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f1wagsupdates
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liked by lilymunhe, carmenmundt and 4,530 others
tagged: yourusername
f1wagsupdates: REVENGE DRESS MOMENT !!! y/n y/ln enters the paddock in monza in this stunning black dress, showing the world what a catch she is, oh and that is max holding the umbrella for her, what a gentleman.
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user28: mother came to slay i cannot even
user29: this right after max came for charles in the press conference is PERFECTION + NO RED IN MONZA !!
user30: i see lily and carmen in the likes in knew they'd be on the right side
user31: girl i don't think anyone is on charles' side
user32: yall see the stink eye from the red bull garage when charles walked past they have y/n's back LOL
user33: the red bull garage been ride or dies for max so it defo makes sense that they would extend that to y/n
user34: christian was defo waiting for a question about it in the press conference
user35: someone on twitter got a clip of him putting his arm around fred going out of the paddock and telling him to get his driver under control
user36: yall are we on the kardashians what the fuck is going on
user37: people may hate christian but he defends his driver so much that he's inserting himself in the relationship drama
user38: i don't even follow f1 but whoever this is this serving oh my
user39: this is so exhausting like i need charles to just apologise so we can get cute y/n x max x charles content
user40: torturing myself thinking about how cute that dynamic could be
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f1
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liked by yourusername, maxverstappen1 and 1,203,457 others
f1: max verstappen clinches his tenth win of the season at monza, joined by sergio perez and oscar piastri. home heroes charles leclerc and carlos sainz came together at turn one, awful showing for ferrari in monza
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user41: this narrative is so so poetic
user42: i feel bad for the tifosi at this point y'all get your hopes up every season
user43: charles you aimed the wrong way if you wanted to take max out
user44: the way max kissed y/n after winning god they're so cute
user45: also the way christian got everyone to move so y/n could get to the front to see max
user46: even marko looked happy about it what is going on?
user47: y'all we knew it was gonna be bad for ferrari y/n wasn't wearing red, call me superstitious but every time she's worn red charles has either won or been on the podium
user48: well that's just what he gets for not appreciating her
user49: as fernando would say KARMA
user50: someone check charles' blood pressure please
maxverstappen1
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tagged: yourusername
maxverstappen1: winning on and off the track, some of you can't relate.
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user51: parents omg
danielricciardo: fighting words maxy, not pulling your punches
maxverstappen1: i do my fighting on the track, not my fault people can't get past turn one to give me a real battle
danielricciardo: i need to be inside your brain
maxverstappen1: no there's images of y/n in my brain that no other man will ever see
danielricciardo: you crack me up maxy
yourusername: woah who's that fine ass piece of woman
maxverstappen1: she's taken sorry
yourusername: that's a shame, i hope that man is taking care of her
maxverstappen1: i don't believe she's got any complaints
yourusername: wow you sound like a gentleman, she's a lucky woman
maxverstappen1: believe me i am the lucky one.
yourusername: awwww maxy you're literally the sweetest person in the world
user52: if i was charles and i saw this after that race you'd have to restrain me i'm so serious
user53: i'm happy for y/n and max but i need them to stop being happy in my face
alexalbon: ur welcome for that first picture btw
yourusername: lily taught you well
alexalbon: so no thanks?
yourusername: i joke thank you very much sir albon
user54: so like all of the twitch quartet are on y/n's side? awkward.
yourusername
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liked by maxverstappen1, georgerussell63, 706,835 others
tagged: charles_leclerc
yourusername: charles and i have been best friends since i knew what the word meant and it really hurts that is has gotten to this point. when charles got his first girlfriend i chalked it up to the excitement of the experience, but when he routinely got in and out of relationships and falling back on our friendship once scorned, i started to question what he really felt about our friendship. i overlooked it every time even when it made me doubt my worth and hoped our friendship meant more. however, the cycle continued and after being left stranded at a beach in a country i do not know i decided it was the end. i have reached out to you so, so many times and want nothing more than our friendship to work and so we can be life-long friends that we can tell our kids about. but i guess it's not worth that much to you and that's something i'll have to reconcile with. the only positive coming from this the fact that it pushed me to the love of my life, so thank you for that.
comments are turned off.
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charles_leclerc
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liked by joristrouche, pierregasly and 1,305,783 others
charles_leclerc: i've already got my trophy, sorry not sorry.
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user56: WHAT THE FUCK
user57: my brain is actually scrambled
user58: charles' must be as well cause no way he thought this was a good idea
landonorris: so this is a low blow
charles_leclerc: since when were you the reference point for morals
landonorris: damn dude, you're in the wrong but go off i guess
user59: why do i actually want to cry for y/n right now? she did this whole ass heartfelt post with no comments so people wouldn't be able to speculate and he replies with a pic of his gf's ASS
danielricciardo: not cool dude
charles_leclerc: i see you all took her side and our friendships mean fuck all
danielricciardo: kinda ironic you bring up respecting friendships
charles_leclerc: spare me the lecture
maxverstappen1: you're a child. but this is the closure she needs. cheers to being an asshole.
charles_leclerc: so you managed to get some of my sloppy seconds, you're welcome
maxverstappen1: she's not sloppy seconds and i can't believe you'd refer to her as that. but if you wanna talk sloppy seconds you can hold the 100 point gap between us in the championship. and y/n will never say this so i'll say it for her GO FUCK YOURSELF
user60: SHOTS FIRED
user61: men are so confusing
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yourusername added to their story
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[caption: taking some time for myself. thank you for your kind words and know i have an amazing support system around me now]
f1wagsupdates
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tagged: charles_leclerc
f1wagsupdates: charles leclerc spotted outside y/n y/ln's office with flowers this afternoon. idk at this point, any time i report on this man i lose more brain cells.
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user67: lol even wag page admins are done
f1wagsupdates: he gives me a lot of content but damn he needs to sort his head out
user68: lol this is gonna be an all time apology tour i can't wait
user69: i honestly don't want y/n to forgive him he doesn't deserve it.
user70: yeah max has proven ride or die for y/n so i know who she should stick with
user71: i need him to donate his brain to science cause in what world is a measly bouquet of flowers gonna cover all of this shit ?
user72: legit he's systematically ditched his best friend, let randomers on the internet drage her name through the mud and then liked it and then flaunted the fact that he didn't care about their friendship for everyone to see
maxverstappen1: lol nice try
user73: my petty king i love him so much
user74: i know y/n is taking a break from social media but i hope she knows how much love she's getting
user75: for real we're all on her side i hope she slammed that door in charles' face
user76: i hope that bouquet ended up in the bin
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maxverstappen1 added to their story
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[caption: special delivery for a special girl]
note: i know this was heavily requested so here it is!! i really like it and it's defo open for a third part if yall want charles and y/n to reconcile? thank you for reading xx
3K notes · View notes
avocado-writing · 20 days
Note
Not sure if this is enough to go off of but I loved the poly!poolverine fic where they rescued the reader. I was wondering if we could get some more of them being protective of the reader 🙏🏻
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The bar is pretty crowded tonight. You nurse a rum and coke and hope Logan and Wade are able to find you in the corner booth you managed to snag, because you know the second you go to order another some opportunistic patrons will take your spot - and you’ve been on your feet all day at work so there’s no way in hell you’ll let that happen.
You take a sip. It’s warm now, ice long since melted in the heat of the room. You grimace at the taste as someone slides onto the bench next to you. 
It is not one of your boys. 
“Hey, baby.”
He’s big. Kinda guy who goes to the gym every day big, which isn’t inherently bad - but from the way he uses his size to press up against you there’s a little bit of unease rising in your chest. He puts his elbow on the table so that he can rest his jaw in his hand, biceps flexing in the tight shirt he wears. 
“I’m waiting for someone,” you say, as calmly as you can, hoping this will deter him. It does not. 
“So? We can have a little talk, can’t we? Not hurting anybody.”
His hand goes to cover yours where it rests on the table. You snatch it back. He frowns. 
“Dunno who you’re waiting for, but they probably shouldn’t have left you here alone. Looks like they don’t care about you, honey.”
“Jesus Christ,” you mutter, annoyed, deciding it’s not worth it. He won’t go so you will. You slide out the free side of the booth - but you’re forced to stop when he grabs your wrist. 
“I wasn’t done talking to you yet,” he says. Okay. Now you’re panicking. You manage to shake yourself free of his grasp and quickly push through the throng of people, hoping to lose him in the crowd. No such luck. He knows where you’re heading. 
The air is cold on the street as you speed up; not running, never running, that might incite a chase. He’s on your heels anyway. 
“Hey, are you just gonna keep ignoring me?”
“I told you I’m not interested!”
He grabs you again, harder this time. A grip you can’t break free from. 
“You know, you should learn not to be such a bitch —”
“Oh! Isn’t this fun! Sorry to interrupt this little show of misogyny in action but it’d be great if you could let go of our pookie.”
You’ve never been more relieved to hear Wade’s voice. Suddenly you’ve got someone either side of you: the brick which is Logan on your left, and the snark which is Wade on your right. 
The guy who’s holding you does not drop your arm. He frowns. 
“Who the fuck are you?”
“They’re who I was waiting for,” you say quickly, as if this will deter him. The man laughs, loudly, cruelly.
“Sorry, you’re in some kinda threesome with this old fucker and whatever this dude is? Fuck, honey, you really need someone to show you what a real man—”
He does not get a chance to finish. Logan’s fist has collided with his face with such ferocity you can hear his nose break. The man yelps and staggers backwards, you bring your hand to your chest for safety. 
“Should’ve let go, bub,” he mutters, massaging his knuckles. Wade deflates. 
“Aw, I wanted to get the first hit in!” He peers over at where the guy is laid out flat. “Go on, get back up. If I don’t throw a punch it emasculates me, and I’m very sensitive about it.”
You roll your eyes, tugging at his sleeve. 
“Let’s just go, guys. I don’t think he’s gonna follow us.”
“One sec.”
Wade strolls over and puts his boot on the guy’s chest, pushing down until he’s wheezing.
“You wanna apologise?”
The guy groans out a sorry, and you give a curt nod when Wade turns to see if you’ve accepted it.
“Don’t do this bullshit again, with anyone, or I’m gonna find you, rip your dick off, then feed it to my adorable, hideous dog.”
They cage in around you as your turn, two loyal hounds at your beck and call. You throw a couple of glances over your shoulder as you leave but it’s as you suspected: the guy remains on the cold concrete. When you’re far enough away to feel safe they slow to a stop. 
“You okay?” Logan asks, lifting your chin with a finger so that he can get a good look at you. You nod. 
“Yeah. Thanks for being there in time.”
“I’m sorry baby, we should have got here earlier, but peanut here tore a guy’s arm off so we had to go and clean up first—”
“Oh god, stop,” you say, pulling a face. You don’t want to know about their line of work, very happy for the business and personal life gulf to be a wide one. “Let’s go get some pizza and head home.”
“Anything you want,” says Logan, squeezing your hand. 
Anything where you’re between them is what you want. Safe and happy, they’ll make sure you’re both. 
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sweet-as-an-angel · 10 months
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Yandere Wild West Outlaw!'s Reaction to You Trying to Escape
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Warnings: Slight Sexual Content, Implied Sexual Thoughts, Dominant Outlaw Confirmed, Kidnapping, Restraining/Binding, Binding Kink ( 👀), Punishment, Outlaw having Intrusive Thoughts, Forced Proximity (And They Were Roommates), No Pronouns Used For Reader Except ‘You’.
♡ He has you tied down to a chair so quickly you don’t even get the chance to feel the wind being knocked out of you.
♡ Yandere Outlaw hasn’t survived this long by letting pretty little things like you turn the tables on him. And if his unwavering strength and endurance aren’t enough to confirm that, his knotting skills are.
♡ “Thought ya could pull the wool over my eyes, didn’tya,” the Outlaw drawls, pulling the rope tight over your wrists, panting, recovering from your frolic with freedom.
♡ He leans in, close enough that you can smell the rock-beaten freshness of his shirt, can feel the warmth of his anger radiating against your skin.
♡ “Suppose I’ll just have to discipline ya. Make ya nice and obedient.”
♡ Despite the low, husking tone of his voice, the quiet promise of promiscuity in his drawl, Outlaw’s rendition of punishment comes as… solitude.
♡ He leaves you tied to that chair for hours, riding off into the desert, leaving you with nothing to entertain you save for your thoughts and the wonderings of what he’d do to you when he returned.
♡ You might view this as a cold, calloused method of behavioural conditioning. Starving you, not letting you stretch your legs or go to the bathroom.
♡ Of course, the punishment is still horrific. But, rather unintentionally so.
♡ You see, in the moments between Outlaw’s two-minute tango between you, himself and his rope, something in his brain had switched. Snapped.
♡ Having you look up at him with wide eyes as you writhed beneath his touch, the burn of the rope, the pleas starting to fall from between your lips for him to let you go, stirred something in him. A primal frenzy. A dark need.
♡ Yandere Outlaw can’t think straight, his mind flooding with involuntary ideas, notions of what he could do with – to – you while you’re bound and at his mercy.
♡ He doesn’t know what happened; why having your body pressed so closely to him in such a thrashing, violent, desperate encounter has left him with a heavy burden in his heart and in…other places.
♡ He’s wrangled captives before and they’ve never had the same licentious effect as you did. Then again, he’s never kept a captive for this long, either. And certainly not willingly.
♡ Yandere Outlaw eventually returns, the thought of you helpless in that chair weighing heavy on his mind all day, taking him down avenues and annals of thought he’d only have the opportunity to explore under the cover of darkness.
♡ Of course, he was concerned that you must be hungry by now. Thirsty, too.
♡ That, and…
♡ How there’d be nothing to stop him from having his way with you.
♡ Yandere Outlaw shakes his head, his horse letting out a puff, as if she could read his mind. Don’t, she told him.
♡ “Don’t worry,” he said, voice quiet. He patted her mane, rubbed the space between her ears. “I won’t.”
♡ Upon Yandere Outlaw’s return, he cuts you loose. He doesn’t apologise, but his silence is thick enough with the accent of shame that you can tell he regrets, in whatever slim capacity, what he’s done.
♡ He puts together a simple meal tonight, either for a lack of trusting that you won’t spike his meal with one of the earth’s thousand natural poisons, or as an apology for his actions.
♡ That night, as you lay next to the Outlaw in bed, your hands and legs bound to the bedposts, the Outlaw looks over you. Watches you.
♡ He doesn’t know why the image of you being tied up hadn’t aroused him as much as it had earlier. Especially now, of all times, with you sleeping beside him, entirely incapable of defending yourself if he acted on his primal desires.
♡ Perhaps it was the thrill of the prospect of having everything on the line, of losing you. Perhaps it was the display of his strength, his ability to make you do whatever he pleased through physical force alone.
♡ Yandere Outlaw tried to dampen his thoughts by placing his hat over his face; to stop the heat he was certain made his cheeks glow in the pitch blackness of the cabin. 
♡ And to stop the onslaught of another issue. 
♡ Taking a dip in the cold waters of the river this time of night didn’t much appeal to him. Especially when he could indulge himself a little longer in the image of you gagged, bound and entirely his.
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Masterlist Yandere AI Masterlist Masterpost
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caxde · 9 months
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drunken confession | steve harrington x reader
summary you're Dustin's older sister, a night out with you're friends makes you see that here might be more between you and Steve (7.5k)
warnings fem!reader, fluff (a lot), mutual pining, yearning etc, slowburn friends to lovers, idiots in love!!!, mentions of alcohol use, tabacco and anxiety (briefly). and eventual smut (p in v, hj unproteccted) english is not my first language so I apologise if there’s some mistakes, not proof read! 
“So, are you going out tonight?” Dustin asked once again, making you center your attention on him, you stop daydreaming. 
“Um, I dunno. We’ll get some drinks, better if you don't wait up I think.” You answered, looking at him. Your brother always seemed like he had more to say, like there was always a puzzle, or an equation that he had to solve in the back of his mind. 
“You’re gonna have to talk to mom.” He scuffed, almost like a laugh. 
“What? Why?” Your eyebrows scratched as you asked, your shoulders got high, and so did your voice. 
“She’s not letting you the car again if you’re out drinking.” 
“Well, I’m not driving so…” You finished, letting the fork in your plate, the clinking of it ending the conversation briefly. 
It seemed like it was going to be a quiet night anyway. Just you, and your friends, nothing unusual. Though you still didn’t know if you’d be drinking in someone’s house or out out. 
Because those are two very different things. 
If you were in someone’s house, you’d be calm, the lights won’t annoy you, the music won’t be too loud, and there won’t be too many people. 
And you’d promised yourself that even if that happened, you weren’t going to overreact, because these things are normal, and it is okay. You're safe, in someone's house, and out in a club or bar. 
Thankfully the bar was still empty when you arrived. 
And the first round of beers went down pretty quickly. 
So did the second one. 
Nancy was excited. You could tell she was really happy, finally having received her acceptance letter to the college of her dreams. She couldn’t stop blushing every time somebody new walked into the bar and said congratulations. 
Robin was as chatty as ever, as she normally was to be honest. You’d found out that Robin gets excited over other peoples’ excitement, and you often thought to yourself what a good cheerleader she would make if she wasn’t as clumsy as she is. 
Eddie was quiet. It wasn’t unusual, not this early in the evening. He always gets more comfortable once he gets used to the people that are wherever you guys end up, and once he realises that nobody looks at him like he’s a freak anymore, in fact, since Corroded Coffin was gaining a bit of a reputation people tried to get close to him, talk to him. He’d never say it, but he loved it. 
And, Steve. 
Well, he was just electric. Something happened whenever you two were in the same place. He’ll participate in whatever conversation is going on at the table, but for a moment, however brief, he’d look at you, and you swear time would stop. 
You didn’t know why that happened, you just enjoyed it. 
And it was happening right now, as you were finishing your second beer, and he was already asking for the third round, his hand up with the empty bottle, once the barman saw Steve, he putted five fingers up, Steve nodded. 
And as it always happened after two beers, you needed to go out, get some air and smoke. And as always, Eddie walked out with you. 
“You doing okay Henderson?” Eddie muttered as he offered you his lighter, smoke already escaping his lips as he talked. 
“Yeah, just thinking.” You answered quickly, just before lighting the camel you had in your pocket. 
“You need to stop doing all that thinking.” He laughed, trying -with no success- to make you at least chuckle. “You wanna talk about it?” 
“I think you already know if I’m being honest.” Your voice was barely above a whisper, pleading that he won’t make you actually say it. 
“For what it’s worth, I think he’s just as much in his head as you are.” He admitted, as he took one long drag of his cigarette, almost gone now. 
“You’re only saying that because you’re my friend.” You brush it off, not really ready to believe that he might be right, not wanting to believe him, in case he was actually right. 
“And I’m also his friend.” He added, looking into your eyes, a soft smile in his face, and something else that you can’t recognise now. “And honestly, you two… something’s going on, it’s not hard to see it.” 
“Nothing has happened. Nothing can anyway.” You add, as you throw your cigarette to the floor, stomping on it so it’s definitely put out. 
“Why would you say that?” Eddie asks, his eyebrows raised, curiosity filling his voice. 
“Because he still likes Nancy.” 
-
Everyone had paid for one round. And you were now debating if you should go home or stay for a little longer. 
Nancy wanted to leave, and so did Robin. 
Eddie didn’t mind.
Steve wanted to stay. 
And you weren’t sure why but so did you. 
So, the table only had three new beers now, and a louder conversation. 
The bar had filled up, and the music was louder now. So of course you needed to scream a bit to hear each other. Again you weren’t really talking about anything important, just enjoying the company they provided, and the warmth that you felt being in a space with your favourite people. 
“Edds, I’m going out for a smoke break, wanna come?” You asked softly, the yellow packet already on your hand, trying not to feel nervous as you feel Steve looking deep into your eyes. 
“Um, not really… I really need to take a piss.” He laughs a bit more than necessary, the alcohol finally taking him over. 
“I’ll come.” Steve's voice finally could be heard. That stupid smile in his lips anytime he gets to spend quiet time with you. 
“Come on.” You smiled shyly as you stood up, a bit too fast, feeling the alcohol all at once once you finally were out of your chair. 
The cold air was the first thing that you felt, hitting you right in the middle of your chest, though you did not feel its coldness, at least not now. Not when he was right there beside you.
You’ll deny it every time somebody asks, but the way he lights the cigarette was hypnotizing. 
His long fingers curving to stop the wind from blowing away the flame, his lips holding it tightly, his eyes looking down carefully so that he does not burn himself. And just the way his nose and parted lips would shine in a soft orange light once the flame was ignited, it made him look both peaceful and angelic. But honestly, that wasn’t the best part. 
The best part of his little ritual came when he’d scooch over you, his face still -even if it was soft enough that he wouldn't notice- scrunched up, concentrating so that the flame wouldn’t disappear. His hands covering the end of your cigarette now, and he would look at you attentively, holding the lighter until smoke came out of your lips. 
You didn’t pay attention to him in that moment -you never could if you didn’t wanna burn yourself- but if you did you’d see the way his eyes couldn’t stay away from the way your lips look. 
And then, he’d always say and do the same thing. 
First, he takes a step back, so he’s not actually so close to you in case it would annoy you, but his feet would stay pointed at you, just like his attention was fully with you, and the way you look up at him. her and her dove eyes. He thinks he could see them even if he closes his eyes. 
Then his free hand would travel to the top of his head, retouching his hair once again, he does that right before he tilted his head to the left.
Then he always asks the same thing. 
“So, how are you doing?” 
And you’d always say the same thing. 
“Good, I’m doing good.” 
But really, you wanted to say. 
“I’m always good when I’m with you.” 
But it didn’t matter how much you'd drink, you never find the courage. 
But for some reason, today, after he asked you how you were doing he kept talking. 
“I’m not gonna lie to you Henderson, I’m getting pretty drunk today.” And he laughed. I could listen that laugh forever, you kept thinking. Though you didn’t need to say it, he knew it as soon as you smiled up at him and bite your lower lips as you looked at him. 
It drove him mad. 
“Honestly?” You asked as he kept laughing. He nodded and scratched the bridge of his nose with his thumb, cigarette still in his hand. “I’m getting drunk too.”
“Can I tell you something else?” He demanded, his eyebrows raising for just a second, your cheeks starting to hurt from just how much you were smiling. As soon as you nodded he lowered his head, and his voice. “It’s a really stupid thing.” He added, his words slurring a bit. 
“It’s never stupid if you say it.” You say back. It always happened, when you were drunk you could not lie, and with that, you’d say things more sincerely, calmer and softer. Even more when Steve was the one listening to them. 
“You look really pretty today.” 
You were expecting everything but that. Your face lighted up, your eyes shined brighter and you didn’t even know your smile could grow wider. You shook your head and scoffed. A friendly and shocked reaction over such sincerity. 
“You’re an idiot.” It’s the only thing you managed to say back. 
But he knew you were happy. Just as much as he knew his heart had skipped a beat as soon as he saw your eyes squint for a second. It was becoming impossible to act normal around you, he realised. 
You stayed there, under the cold starry sky, not saying anything, and it didn’t matter. You didn’t need to. 
Once you finished smoking in such a comfortable silence it was hard to go back inside, but even if you wanted to stay in that quiet moment, you headed back, only to find Eddie deep in a conversation with a girl you didn’t know. 
Well, it wasn’t really a conversation, more so he had his arm around her waist and was following her out. 
Steve laughed in shock first, after looking at you. 
“Guess that means we’ll have to drink his beer.” You add in a chuckle. 
Your body was all warm and fuzzy. You weren’t going to drink anymore. 
But Steve seemed to keep going, you weren’t sure why, probably just the habit, oblivious to you, it was to calm his nervous thoughts. 
The bar was about to close, and that meant that it was getting quiet again, no need to scream anymore. 
“Your ears get red when you’ve had enough to drink.” You point out touching the tips of Steve’s ears, brushing his hair behind them. You were giggly and touchy, even more so now that no rational thought was in your brain. 
“Well… so does your nose.” He replays back, his eyes softer, as he lets his index finger touch the tip of your nose. “bub.” He adds. You’re not sure if he says it as a reaction to touching it or as a pet name, but you don’t care either way. 
“You’re wasted Harrington.” You giggle as you say his last name, your hands travelling down his neck, into his chest, falling clumsy -but softly- into his lap. He loses his breath for a second as he lets himself enjoy the way your skin feels against his. 
“Like father, like son, right?” He half jokes as he raises the beer he still is working on finishing. 
“What?” You shake your head at him. “No, no way. You look just like your mom.” You add. Your voice feels like a soft song to him at that moment. People never tell him that he looks like his mom, even if he always wanted that. 
“You’re the first person to say that, y’know” He confesses, his hand now resting on his hand, his eyes looking deep into yours. 
“Well… It’s true. Your mom’s beautiful, and so are you.” Your cheeks go red as soon as you realize what you just said. Though you mean every word of it. 
“You think I’m beautiful?” He asks, for a second it seems like he’s mocking you, but you know him well enough to know that he’s just shocked at the way you say things, so truthfully, so honestly. You always have the ability to leave him speechless. 
“Yeah, that’s what I said.” You sound more sure of yourself now, as you snatch a little beer from his bottle, he looks at you with his eyebrows raised, surprised and in absolute awe of you. 
“Not handsome?” You shake your head no as you giggle a bit at him, “Beautifull” He elongates the last L, a grin appearing on his lips. 
That stupid Steve grin. 
“Beautiful people are soft and kind. Not just on the outside, but all of them. That’s you.” His whole expression softened, even more if it was possible. His eyes were a pool of honey and coffee, and they could not stop looking at you, with pure adoration. 
“You’re the one being an idiot now.” 
You giggled as you felt the last sip travel down your throat, you nodded before looking back at him. 
“They’re closing, we should go.” You point out once you see the lights of the bar light up. The universal sign that the night had come to an end. 
-
The ride home was always fun, and worth remembering, every single one. 
This one however, was special. 
Your hand rested on the back of his head, playing with his hair lazily, not really thinking about it. It felt nice, and it was the closest you could be to him. 
That’s what you thought anyway.
What you didn’t expect was Steve deciding to let his hand rest on top of your thigh, not striking it, not squeezing it, it just rested there. His thumb drew a repetitive pattern, a kind of gesture that to you meant I’m here, but to him it screamed I don’t wanna leave.
Once he stopped the car in front of your house, he whipped around to look at you. Once again, he said nothing. He just looked at you. You knew what Robin would say if he saw that, probably something like stop admiring at each other and go to bed, please?. Eddie would probably just laugh and give you a little shove. But right now, the only thing that escaped your lips (that might be trembling because of your nervous heart, or maybe it was because his hand was still in your thigh, and yours was still on the back of his neck) was a soft “Thank you” And he just shook his head, a its nothing gesture. 
Though you weren’t ready for him to get out of his car once you were already on the steps of your house. 
“You okay Steve?” You asked as you saw him approaching. 
He didn’t say anything. 
He just hugged you. 
It had never felt like this. His hands holding you closer than ever, his head resting on the nape of your neck. Of course you returned the feeling, holding him thigh, not wanting to let go. Your head rested on his chest, and you could smell every inch of him. Aftershave, a deep cologne, the beer that you had drank and cigarette smoke. You closed your eyes for a second, trying to memorise how it all felt, how his respiration slowed for that moment, how he took a deep breath before letting you go and how he looked down at you, his honey eyes shining. His cheeks a bit flustered, and you're guessing that yours are too. 
“Yeah. Good night honey.” 
honeyhoneyhoney. 
-
“It would just be a quick drop, you wouldn’t even be five minutes late I swear!” Dustin whined again. He knew he was getting you annoyed, and frustrated, he could tell by the way your eyebrows were scrunched up and your nails were getting buried into your waist, holding tight onto something so you wouldn’t snap at him. 
“It’s not about dropping you off, it’s just…” You always had trouble communicating when you were like this, when your thoughts were going faster than your actions, when you got overwhelmed by things that nobody seemed to get overwhelmed by. “I’m supposed to go to Edds show, and I really don’t want to be late, because if I am, I might not find them and then that would mean I-”
“They’ll wait for you.” He looked down at the floor, his hands had his fingers intertwined, the same anxious tick you had, it looks like he inherited that too. “Please? Will goes back to California in a couple days and we really want to finish his campaign.”
You nodded, you understood the need to see someone, a friend. You know how much Dustin misses Will when he’s not around. He nodded back, and he sat on top of your bed. Happy. Calm, not pushing your buttons anymore. 
“So… Who’s going?�� 
“Where?”
“To Eddie’s show.” He gestured with his hands, a weird look in his face that you had no time to get into. 
“Um, Robin and Steve.” You add back, your voice a bit higher in pitch, turning your back so you can look into your closet, hoping to find something that might work. Your indecision -you often think- is the worst thing that happens to you. “Nancy was supposed to come but she said something came up, so…”
“She didn’t tell you?” The tone of his voice made you turn fast to him, a shocked honesty that makes you wonder. 
“Tell me what?”
“Her and Jonathan got back together.” 
“Oh.” oh. “How do you know?” Your ears were ringing, poor Steve you thought. Poor heart-broken Steve, the only thing you ever wanted for him was for him to be happy, it didn’t matter with who, as long as he actually loved the person and was loved in return. 
“Steve told me.” Even if your little brother’s voice was calm, he was still looking at you with that same look. The one he uses when he’s trying to gather information, seeking a reaction, and if you were being honest, he was getting one. 
“Is Steve okay?” You needed to know, because right now it was all you could think about, about the kind boy that deserves to be loved, even if it can’t be by you. 
“You’re kidding? He helped Jonathan get her back!” That confused you even further, why would Steve help him get the girl he’s in love, get together with someone else. You turned back and started grabbing different tops and shirts and laying them above the bed. 
“Why would he do that? Isn’t he like, in love with Nance?” The way he started laughing made your shoulders tense for a second, jumping at such a reaction. “What are you laughing for?”
“He’s not in love with her! Jesus, you can be blind sometimes…” The palm of his face brushes his face as he looks at you, a puzzled look still on yours. 
“I don’t know what you’re on kid, but I need to get ready and have no clue what to actually wear so…” He picked up the white tank top and threw it to you. 
“You’re an idiot sometimes, you know that?” Dustins i’m much clever than you tone came back as he stood up. You rolled your eyes at him and gave him a petty smile. 
“Yeah, I’ve been told.” 
-
As you parked outside where Eddie was playing, a few minutes late, you grew nervous. The parking lot was full of cars, and finding a spot took longer than you anticipated, so by the time you found a spot and got to the entrance, the queue only seemed longer and longer. People standing in a not-so-neat line, chatting amongst themselves, shivering away the coldness of the night. Cigarette smoke and off-key lyrics filled the ambient of the people pulled away. 
You realise at that moment, you didn’t have a ticket. 
Steve and Robin had gotten in with Eddie. 
And you had no idea how to get in, so you took a quick lap to see if you found someone, anyone. 
Thankfully for you, Steve was by the entrance door, chatting away with one of the security guys. Even if Steve was tall, and had a wide back, the man talking to him toward over him, it almost made you giggle, seeing him as someone smaller, when he usually was the one that filled the room, even with just his presence. 
As you walked to him, smoke escaping your lips and a scent of burnt smoke following you, you remembered the conversation you had with Dustin. And still, you didn’t believe him, at least not until you saw the way his demeanor changed when you approached him, and a relieved “Steve” came out of you. 
Steve lost his breath for a moment. 
You looked truly angelic, and you didn’t even need to try. You in that white tank top that made your breasts appear larger, more exposed than they’re usually are, your hair down, letting the left side of your neck free, as the wind blew, and your jeans hugging every curve of your body. It drove him mad. Even worse, he always loved when you wore red lipstick, like tonight. 
Of course he wasn’t in love with anyone but you. 
But you didn’t know. 
The same way he didn’t know just how much it drove you crazy when his shirts hugged his arms like that, his veins more prominent when his arms were crossed on his chest. His hair always seemed to float, like it had a gravity of his own, but that single strand of hair that felt in between his eyes made you focus on him more. His soft honey dark eyes that were only looking at you, half lidded and full of adoration. It drove you crazy.
Of course you weren’t in love with anyone but him. 
But he didn’t know. 
Just like you had thought until a few hours ago that he still loved, or liked Nancy, it wasn’t until he had picked up Robin a few minutes ago that he didn’t find out that what you had with Eddie was purely platonic. Robin had laughed just as much as Dustin did, and called him an idiot all the same. But still, you both thought that your feelings weren’t returned, because that would be too perfect to be real. Impossible, just a dream. 
However, the way your name sounded when Steve said it made you forget about everything else, and just focus on him. 
A quick hug, not like the one he had given you that night he had driven you the night after you’d spent your entire night in a bar. You had come to realise, he became braver once some time had passed, and so did you. 
So you headed inside, where Robin was waiting for the both of you in the bar, a warm welcome and a big cheers with some beers that you grabbed as you moved further into the pit. 
The crowd was electric, everyone cheering for the show to start, eager to sing along with the band. You followed along, screamed when Corroded Coffin finally came on stage, whoo’d Eddie when he asked How are you doing Indianapolis and laughed when he admitted that he missed saying how are you Hawkins. 
Robin cheered the loudest and it made Steve laugh. One of those authentic, closing your eyes and holding your stomach kind of laughs. You thought that it was one of the highlights of the night already. 
But as these things often go, once Eddie’s band was over, and the next one came, the bar got even more crowded, and the lights felt brighter, and everyone seemed to be looking at you, judging or god knows what. Everyone seemed to bump into you, and you had already pulled the glue out of your empty cristal bottle on both sides. Breathing was becoming a hard task, and so did hearing anything that was being said to you. 
“Honey” You heard Steve as soon as you felt his warm hand on your shoulder. You looked up to him, a haze in your eyes.”Are you okay?” He halved screamed into your ear, his breath lingering into your skin. 
You pull him closer for a moment, afraid he might not listen. 
“Too many people.” You’re not sure if he could hear you, or what he could do. You try even harder to relax your breathing, to stop looking around. But it all ends when you feel his fingers intertwined with yours. 
You look up to him, he just nods to Robin who nods back at him, and he starts walking to the back of the pit, the lights seem to not burn anymore, and the people are few and far between. He just stays there, with you for a second before he opens his mouth. Looking at you and the way your eyes are scanning every single person in the room, looking for something that you don’t know what is.
“Honey?” There it is again, the soft worried Steve voice, his attention only on you. 
You look back at him, as you feel his hand grabbing yours thighter. He’s the only thing you’re looking at now. 
“Do you need to get out? Get some air?” He knows you won’t actually answer, but takes the nodding that you do as a clear enough sign. 
The creaking of the door and the friendly doorman brings you back down to earth, and so does the wind hitting your chest. 
“Better?” He asks again, desperate for some sort of confirmation from you. 
“Yeah, I just- Sorry…” You sort of mumble, more to yourself than to him. 
In that moment you realise that your hands are still tangled together, and the blood rushes to your cheeks as soon as you look down at them. They fit together so naturally, you think. Like a missing piece of a puzzle. 
“Don’t apologize. We’ll stay here as long as you need, ‘s fine.” You instinctively bite the inside of your cheek as you nod at him, a soft smile, a thank you of sort appears on your face, as does a grin on his. 
Without letting go of you, he reaches down into his jeans front pocket, and takes out a box of Camel, offering you to take one. Smoking might be bad for your lungs, but it does help with regulating your breathing, and he knew that’s just what you needed, and honestly, you were craving one, so you nodded again, searching for a lighter with the cigarette already in between your lips. Before you even find it, you feel the warmth of fire close to your mouth, and you just inhale the smoke. 
“Thank you…” He shakes his head, as he inches closer to you, the same strand of hair falling between his eyes again. 
“There’s no need for that.” He whispers, his words just as sweet as he is. His free hand pushes your hair behind your ear, and falls slowly to the nape of your neck, letting it rest there for just a second, his thumb stroking the end of your jaw in soft short motions, holding you up so you look at him, your doe eyes looking deep into his, he swears he could melt right here and there. You were driving him crazier everyday with the way you looked at him. 
For a second there, he thinks you might even love him back. 
“I just don’t know why I get like that, when there’s so many… I dunno” you scoff off, as your shoulders shrug ever so slightly, enough for him to catch, enough for your hair to move again and let the smell of your shampoo reach him. “I’m okay, don’t worry.” You say with a smile. 
He looks deep into his eyes, looking for any sign that you might be lying, he doesn’t find any. And he likes to think that you’re better because of him. It's funny how right he is. 
“We can stay here as long as you need.” Steve reasures you once again, getting closer again. Your body and his only a push away from touching. 
“You’re always so sweet to me.” You’re thinking out loud now, you bite your lower lip as soon as you see him mask his blush with a soft chuckle, as his grin deepens, and you stop for a second to look at his pretty pink lips. You even let yourself imagine what it would be like to kiss them. 
Steve debates what to do next. He knows you’re not lying, he knows that you’re being sincere and truthful. He can tell by the way your eyes are half lidded, looking at him like you’re in the safest space possible -even when you’re actually outside downtown Indianapolis- so in the end, he just wraps his arms around you. And he holds you even tighter when he feels you wrapping your arms behind his neck, and the way you stand on your tiptoes so you can hold him closer, your leg between his, his hands playing with the ends of your air. He breathes you in, intoxicating himself with the way you smell. You’re worried he’ll feel just how fast your heart is beating. But you’re too occupied smiling deeply and sincerely. 
He feels safe. 
Yes, there might be some butterflies, but they’re not nervous ones, it’s all just calmness. Love even. 
-
He ends up paying for your drinks, and you spend the night dancing at the back of the pit with Robin and eventually Eddie joins you. You laugh, and dance around, sing the songs off key with Robin making Eddie laugh as he joins you. Admiring the way Steve covers his face embarrassed, that the idiots causing the whole club to cheer you on as you move are indeed his friends. But what makes you have the deepest smile is everytime you catch Steve eyes, thay always seem to be on you. He even dances with you a couple times when Robin or Eddie go away to the bathroom or to grab more drinks. 
You don’t care because he is here and everything feels right. 
But the night was coming to an end, and you still were buzzing with energy. 
Even outside, where the cold wind wrapped around you you were still singing and dancing until Eddie started speaking. 
“Steve, can I take your car?” He asks, and it makes you all turn around and look at him. 
“What for? Where’s your van?” Robin followed, her voice raised a little too loud. 
“I think Gareth might have taken it.” Eddie explains as he points at his van driving away, with Gareth in the driver’s seat. You can’t help but laugh a bit, stopping slowly as you feel Steve laying his arm around your shoulders, you let yourself think of it as an embrace. Or maybe he was just cold. 
“Who’ll drive me home?” He mutters as he searches for the keys in his pocket. 
“I’ll drive you.” You say, looking up at him. Steve’s eyes shine brighter, with that look. A look you have only seen in him once before, long ago. 
“Sure.” He mutters, a grin in his face. “You won’t kill us?” He jokes as he pushes some hair away from your face with the hand that rests right where your neck meets your shoulder.
“I’ll come with you” Robin mumbles as she approaches Eddie, her eyebrows raised. 
Steve knows that if Robin could talk to him now she would plead with him, to actually make a move. He decides that she’s right. 
“Alright, let’s get home.” Eddie winks at you, a look that begs you to be careful. He grabs the keys that Steve throws him, the jingle of them making you realise that this was actually happening. 
You blame it on the alcohol. But you have to admit that holding his waist was something you have wanted to do for so long its feels fucking angelic once your fingers touch his skin, under his shirt, right above the seam of his jeans. 
Steve chews gum when he’s nervous, and the minty flavor, or maybe the amount of beer inside his system makes him say the most stupid thing ever. 
“Do you like gum?” 
“Yeah” 
“You want some?” 
“Sure.” You stop, expecting him to reach down his pocket and grab the small packet. You part your lips open expecting him to do so. Instead, Steve in a bold move opens his mouth and pulls you closer. 
Before you can even process what he’s doing, his thumb reaches your jaw, opening your mouth a bit more for you, and you see the way his tongue places the minty gum on your lips. You had closed your eyes. Thinking he was going to do something else. 
It had made you nervous and weak all the same. You can’t help but think, as you take a few steps, your hand holding even tighter onto him, that was one of the hottest things you had ever seen. 
It got better. 
After a few steps he talked again. His voice sultier, deeper. His eyes somehow were darker, but still looked like they were full of adoration for you. 
“Does that gum still have some taste on it?” 
“Yeah, minty” You manage to say. 
“Can I have some?” 
This time around, it's you who grabs him. And you can feel the way he smiles at that, and the way his fingers hold your face up again to meet him. This time it’s you who gives him the gum back. 
Only, you place it between your lips, and it's his tongue that gets it. 
In that moment you know, you’re fucked. 
And so does he. 
-
“Honey?” He asks as he sees you pulling into his street. 
The whole drive back home had been exactly like the last time. Except this time the way he would caress your leg felt hungry for your touch back, and your fingers would end up intertwined, singing the songs that came into the radio, not really paying attention, all of it focused on the way he was playing with your fingers. 
“Mmmh?” 
“My car keys may have been chained to my house keys.” He admits, embarrassed, as he covers his face. You can’t help but look at him and laugh a bit. 
“S’okay, you can sleepover.” He nods and you change directions. 
And before you know it you’re already parked, and he’s already following you inside. 
That’s when it hits you. 
Steve is in your room. 
Steve is sleeping over in your bed. 
Steve had practically kissed you. 
whatthehellisgoingon
You shake your head, not wanting to read too much into things that haven’t and might never happen. 
“I uh… I’m going to change.” You whisper, a bit of shame could be felt on your words, and Steve just nodded, lost in the sight that was you in your room. “Do you need anything?” 
“No, I… Usually just sleep with my boxers on.” That confession made you blush and bite your lower lip as you nodded. Not really knowing what to do or say. 
So you just turned around, you took off your bra, tossing it on the floor before you took off the white tank you had. You reached for your sleep shirt. An old grey shirt that was way overdue to throw away, but it was long enough and soft enough that you felt it was perfect for sleeping in. So, Steve just enjoyed the show. 
He stayed there, watching the way your body moved. He was the one that had his eyebrows raised, his chest racing and his cheeks flushed. He was lost in you. And you were painfully obvious that he was looking, maybe that’s why you take a bit longer to take off your tank top before putting on the gray shirt. Maybe that's why your heart skips a beat when you hear the sound of his belt hitting the ground at the same time that his jeans did. While you took your own jeans off, he took off his shirt. 
You knew you had to turn around now. 
And as you did you go lost in him. 
Him standing there, in nothing but his black boxers, framing all of him. Him and his chest with some hair, trailing all the way down to his waistband. That was an image you probably would never be able to forget. 
He took the first step. A soft grin appears in his lips once again. As he pushes the same flock of hair behind your ear, you can't help but tilt your head into his touch. He takes another step forwards, and just looks at you, deep into your eyes. You both chuckle, nervously at the situation, and like before, he holds you. Thight. Only this time, you can feel him against your leg. It makes you press your own legs together a bit more. 
Once he lets go, you slide into the bed, and he closes the lights, following you closely. 
“Is it okay if you hug me?” You ask. 
“Mmh.” He’s at a loss for words. 
He cuddles you, feeling you closer than ever before. And one of his hands gets lost into your thigh, right where your waistband meets your skin, tracing it. Softly. It drives you insane. Steve’s breathing into your hair, and you can feel how his breathing is fastening, just as much he can feel yours, by the way your stomach goes up and down. He can’t help himself anymore. He leaves a wet kiss on your neck. 
That’s all it takes. 
You turn around and you know you’re fucked. You can’t hold yourself anymore. You explote. 
You kiss him. 
The way his lips press against yours feels like he really wanted this, maybe even as much as you did. Your body pulls him closer, and his leg finds itself tangled in between yours. He’s lost in you and the way your mouth feels. He bites your lower lip, softly. And as soon as you feel the tug a soft whimper escapes your lips. Steve melts into you even more, his legs putting pressure in that spot between your legs that is already throbbing for him. Your hands find the back of his neck, and become buried into his hair. His soft chestnut hair. His hands begin to train up, inside your shirt. Holding your waist harder than before. Another moan escapes your kiss swollen lips, and he grunts in return. 
He tries to memorise you, and the way you look like now. To him, you’re a goddess fallen from the sky, and he’s the lucky one. 
He climbs above you, tracing kisses down your neck, as his hands travel up, up enough to meet your breast and press down, even carefully he’s strong enough and skilled enough to pinch your nipples, making them hard. And your legs wrap around him, and you can’t quite believe just how big he’s gotten just from kissing you. 
His hands take off your shirt and as soon as he looks at you he’s a goner. 
“Fuck, you’re beautifull honey.” He groans. A deep voice you’ve never heard from him. 
It makes you pull him closer. And he starts to move, his cock and your clit being only separated by the small fabric between you both. 
“Can I-” He cuts you off as he looks up at you, stopping the trail of kisses he wanted to finish on your left breast. 
“You can do anything you want to me honey” 
You can’t help yourself. The wetness patch only growing on your thong. You needed him, but you were so desperate to touch him, to see him. 
You flipped him around, leaving him laid on your mattress, his hands up in shock. He’s surprised by you in the best way possible. 
You were the one kissing him senseless now, as you grind on top of him. HE grew harder and stiffer with every time your clit pressed against him. His hands grabbed your ass in that moment, hard and burying his fingers as deep as he could. You wasted no time kissing every beauty mark that you could see, slowly going down his stomach, his breath shortening, sucking in and groaning your name in the most delicious way you have never heard anyone say it. 
Your hands found the hem of his underwear and pulled it down. He was so big. His pink tip already wet with pre-cum, and it was all because and for you. Your eyes widened with desire, you had to taste him. 
So you did. 
It only took a lick for Steve to shiver, and that made nothing but turn you on even more. His hand had now started to press on your clit through the fabric. It didn’t matter, it felt too good. 
So, as you looked deep into his eyes, you wrapped your lips around him, and you went down. 
Steve had never been more desperate, the eye contact, you and your pretty doe eyes looking at him like he was the only thing in the world. 
His fingers had pushed your thong to your side, and started messing around your entrance, it wasn’t until his waist flinched forward, making you swallow him whole, that he didn’t actually finger you. 
But once he did, he couldn’t stop, and neither could you. 
The way you moaned, with him still inside you, the way your waist moved, letting him get more aces into you, it drove him mad, he needed you, like really needed you. 
“Steve, please” You begged. 
That’s all it took. 
His hands took off your thong and pulled you up, he kissed you deeply, his tongue getting lost with yours. Your soft lips fit perfectly with his, and the wetness of his cock still in them. 
He was above you again. Three fingers in, your legs already up, he had you prepared you enough for him to enter, but anyway, when you felt the way his cock slided into you, your walls tensed up for a second, and you both moaned as soon as you felt each other. 
“God, you feel so nice honey” He whispered into your ear before biting it. 
Your legs wrapped around him, tightly, and your hands were on his back, pushing him deeper. He wanted to go slow, but seeing you so helpless, so needy for him, made him pick up the pace. With every thrust, your eyes rolled deeper into your head, your muscles relaxed, and your feet were pointed. 
The warmth of his skin felt so good against yours you felt as if it would never be enough, even if you wanted to scream his name, you couldn’t. Everyone was sleeping. So you did the only thing you could.
“I’ve wanted you for so long Steve '' You whispered into his ears in between thrusts. You felt how his head hangs lower after that, his back arched so he could reach even lower. And when you thought he was as deep as he could, he placed an arm behind you, reaching that place that even you couldn’t. 
“So have I honey.” He admitted before kissing you, a deep, wet kiss. Followed by many more repressed moans and loud groans. “I’m all yours.” 
“I’m all yours” You repeated. 
He grabbed your leg and pushed it up, he was so deep now you could feel him everywhere. You were lost in him. The way his hair bounced, the way his eyes looked at you, his lips swollen because he couldn’t and wouldn’t stop kissing you. 
He was a goner. And so were you. 
You hadn’t come this hard in so long. 
You melted into eachothers arms. 
You had a silent moment, where it was all soft kisses and caresses. You couldn’t quite believe that that had just happened. 
Or how good it had been. 
“I meant it.” You heard him whisper, his lips pressed against your ear. 
“What?” 
“I’m all yours.” He repeats. Leaving a kiss in your hair. “I’ve always been.”
“I mean it too.” You let him know, your nose brushing his, your fingers tangled with his. “I’ve liked you for so long, my love.” 
He laughs a bit. Maybe it was the confession he had just got out of you, maybe it was because you had just called him my love. 
“God, me too.” He finally admits, a weight being pulled away from his chest. “But I thought you had a thing for Eddie.” 
“And I thought you still loved-” He shuts you up with a kiss. 
“We broke up because I was falling for you.” He finally admits. 
You can’t stop smiling or kissing. 
You don’t think you ever will. 
-
if you enjoyed it please leave a comment or reblog. i promise it makes a huge difference <3
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grapejuicebrat · 2 months
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carry you home
PAIRING: rafe cameron x reader
SUMMARY: where rafe finally found someone who loves him. and where finally rafe falls in love.
my masterlist
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The best love is unexpected. You don't just pick someone and cross your fingers it'll work out. You meet them by fate and it's an instant connection, and the chemistry share is way above your head. You just talk and notice the way their lips curve when they smile or the colour of their eyes and all at once you know you're either lucky or screwed.
That’s what Rafe loves about you. Well, actually, he just loves you. He loves the way you smile, the way you walk, the way you talk. The way you hug him wherever he is sad. The way you talk him through hard times. The way you immediately know when something is off. The way you taught him how to trust people and not be afraid to express feelings.
You were his light in the darkness.
When he first met you he thought that you were disgustingly cute and sweet and shit. You didn’t care about Rafe being a total dick to you. You just wished him a nice day and offered a free ice cream just because you were in a good mood to make people happy.
And guess what? In the evening, the same day, Rafe felt guilty. You were so nice to him and he did everything to ruin your good impression of him. Like you weren’t like this pogues who just see him and are ready to throw all shit at him. You were literally smiling and offered a fucking ice cream. When he told you to fuck off and stop smiling.
Guess again? The next day Rafe bought you an ice cream in your own shop. And he apologised for being a dick. And of course you forgave him.
“Sure thing! Everybody has a bad day, it’s okay!”
And your sweet voice wasn’t that disgusting anymore.
You showed him one important thing that no one has ever been able to show him before. Not that he’s beautiful, not that he’s smart, not that he’s sweet. None of that. You showed him something more important than any of those things. You showed him that he was important, that there's a reason he’s here. You made him feel like the world was lucky to have him.
And Rafe doesn’t know if anyone will ever make him feel that way again.
Waking up next to you was Rafe’s favourite thing after coming home to you after a long day at work. Honestly, it is so nice - knowing that here is someone who is actually waiting for you. You were always there for him. Supporting in every decision, giving advices when he needs them, just being silent because comfortable silence is so underrated.
And when you said you loved him? Rafe thought that he was about to pass out. It was the best fucking thing that ever happened to him. Knowing that someone loves him. Just because he exists. Maybe he is toxic, manipulative. But she loves him. The way he is.
“I love you. Today. Tonight. Tomorrow. Forever. If I were to live a thousand years, I would belong to you for all of them. If I were to live a thousand lives, I would want to make you mine in each one.”
And then Rafe cried. And no, he wasn’t embarrassed of this. Because you taught him that it’s not a disgusting thing to express your feelings. It’s okay to cry. Just because you’re a man it doesn’t change anything. You’re still allowed to cry and to laugh and to be silent. Rafe is a human too after all.
“You know what i’ve learned from your stupid romcoms?” Rafe asks you and kisses your cheek.
“They are not stupid!” you roll your eyes and laugh. “But anyway, what you’ve learned?”
“The world was made so that we could find each other in it.”
And he was finally happy, having the love of his life in his arms.
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this one is so special to me and no i won’t stop writing about rafe being a softie lmao
if you would like to be added to my taglist leave a comment or let me know by sending me in my ask!
tag list: @ivy-34
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cressidagrey · 3 months
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Lightning in the Bottle - Chapter 9
Summary: 
Eira Archeron was neither a Valkyrie, nor a Seer, nor the High Lady of the Night Court. She was actually pretty much useless. The only thing she wanted was to be somebody's first choice for once in her life.
Also known as: Azriel's shadows decide that if he doesn't treat his mate right... they'll just do it for him.
Warnings: 
Elain Bashing, Rhys is trying to be a supportive big brother, This is officially the penultimate chapter of this story, but the series will eventually go on!
(super pretty dividers by @tsunami-of-tears)
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“When was I supposed to tell you?” Eira asked Feyre calmly. “You said you were busy with more important things. You were busy with running this court.”
She didn’t give her sister the fault for that, but…
“I would have…” Feyre protested but then cut herself off. “No, I wouldn’t have,” she sighed. “That’s on me. I gave you no opportunity to come to me, no reason why you should ever trust me again…” Feyre said softly, trailing off, staring at Eira with wide blue eyes. “I am sorry.”
“For what? Saying what you were thinking?” Eira asked her sister, her eyebrows furrowing. “You are allowed to do that, Feyre. Even if I don’t like to hear it.”
Even when she didn’t want to hear it…even then.
“Talking to you like this,” Feyre pointed out, reaching out for her hand.  “When I told you that I had more important things to do when you were only trying to be nice to me…or when I put my nose into what happened between Azriel and you.”
Eira swallowed at that. 
“Don’t be,” Eira assured her sister, forcing a smile on her face.  “It was time for me to…to realise that he’s completely uninterested and that any hope of him changing his mind is a fever dream.” Azriel wasn’t interested and he never would be. It would be better for everybody if Eira just accepted that. 
She would get over him. Find somebody else…maybe somebody that she wouldn’t annoy… maybe some long-suffering male… who was willing to take pity on her.  “You don’t need to worry about it anymore, Feyre. I won’t try and talk to him again,” she promised her sister. 
Feyre had enough other things to worry about. Eira’s feelings weren’t going to inconvenience anyone any more. 
“No!” Feyre exclaimed and she stared at her sister. 
What? 
This was what Feyre had wanted, wasn’t it?
“No?” she repeated questioningly, a hand still gently running over Nyx's back that was happily cuddling with her, playing with her fingers. 
“What Feyre means is that…you have every right to…handle your relationships as you see fit,” Nesta hurried to add. 
Her relationships?
“There is no relationship. There never will be a relationship. I’ll get over myself,” Eira promised. Eventually. “You don’t need to worry about it. I won’t annoy him any longer or inconvenience you.”
You’ve never annoyed Master, the shadows hissed at her, suddenly appearing and wrapping themselves around her hand. 
“It’s very sweet of you to say that, but we both know it is a lie,“ she said quietly, blinking back the tears that threatened to run over her face. It was so sweet. So sweet of them to do that…but it was useless. 
Don’t worry, I’ll find somebody else,” she said with a confidence she didn’t feel. Somebody that…somebody that maybe wanted her…somebody that she wouldn’t annoy…somebody that… “Is everything alright with Elain’s wedding planning?“ she asked, changing the topic. Eira hoped everything was alright with that, otherwise poor Elain would be so stressed once again and…
“Eira, forget that fucking wedding for a moment,” Nesta snapped and she flinched, worriedly looking at Nyx that didn’t seem to care one way or another about Nesta’s cursing. What was wrong with the wedding? Had something gone amiss? Was it her fault? Was it something that Eira had done?! “Look at me,” her older sister said with a sigh. She did. Eira’s eyes met Nesta’s, silver and grey, so similar. “I am sorry,” Nesta told her earnestly. 
“Why are you apologising?” Eira asked. What was…
“Because I threw everything I could think of at your head when I…during those weeks and you still came to visit me every week. You wouldn’t have needed to do that but you still did,” Nesta said quietly. 
“You’re my sister. Of course, I came to visit you,” Eira said fiercely. Of course, she had come to visit Nesta. She would have…otherwise, she wouldn’t have been able to live with herself. ”You don’t need to apologise,” Eira assured her. It was fine. Nesta had…had a really bad time and…
“Yes, I do,” Nesta snapped. “You should be angry with me!”
Furious…Angry…But then Eira had never really been angry quickly. She had never…And even when she had gotten angry, it had never held for very long…even her anger at Elain had gone away in a few hours. 
It sparked and then it went out again.
“You should be furious with me! For belittling you, for telling you that all the dresses you make are ugly, for behaving like I did!”
She repeated the words, and something deep inside Eira curled together once she heard them again, even when Nesta was sorry about all she had said. 
It was fine. Nesta could… her dresses weren’t as perfect as some that one could buy maybe…maybe Nesta was right. Maybe she should keep to hemming them and shortening sleeves and alterations and stop making things from scratch…maybe she should…“You are entitled to your own opinion,” she said softly. 
“Not when I use it to hurt you on purpose!” Nesta yowled. “You never told me you made me a wedding dress,” she said, her voice dropping, sounding weak. 
How did she…
For just a moment it felt like Eira’s heart was stopping. Then she swallowed, and she looked down at Nyx, still cuddled up to her, as she answered.  “You wouldn’t have wanted to wear it, so what did it matter? It’s ugly.”
Not good enough. Not pretty enough. Worthless.
“It’s beautiful,” Nesta responded, her voice splintering. 
Eira just closed her eyes. 
She couldn’t stand it. She could deal with the harsh words but she could not deal with the outright lying. She could not… “You don’t need to tell me that to spare my feelings, Nesta. I understand,” Eira said weakly. She did understand it. 
It was alright. It was…
“I am not lying to you!” Nesta snapped.” “Be angry at us. Scream at us. Throw us out, Eira. But don’t just…accept it. Don’t just turn the other cheek. Don’t just…”
What good could that possibly do?
“So I am angry and then what, Nesta?” Eira finally asked, for the first time feeling so utterly tired. “Is screaming at you supposed to make me feel better or you?” she asked, for the life of her not understanding what Nesta wanted from her. “I love you, but I don’t know what you want from me.”
“I think it may be better if you all take a break,” a voice came from the doorway and she looked up to see Rhysand there. 
Gods, couldn’t she at least be spared that? 
At least…
“I am not…” Nesta started, but Rhys cut her off quietly. 
“Nesta. Please.” She had never heard the two of them talk to each other like that. 
Never. 
But now they did. And to Eira’s shock, her older sister listened. 
“Fine,” she agreed with a sigh, as Feyre scooped up Nyx, who gave her a toothy smile as she waved at him. 
Both Feyre and Nesta left the room, leaving her alone with Rhys. 
“If this is about my ill-hidden puppy crush on your spymaster, you don’t need to worry about that,” she told him, trying to make her voice seem frosty and probably failing horribly. “I promise I’ll do whatever you want so that he’s not uncomfortable.”
Maybe then she would get out of needing to have a conversation about it with Rhys…maybe then he wouldn’t start making fun of her or laughing at it…
God, it must be utterly ridiculous to a man who was over 500 years old. She probably was just…
The last thing she had expected was for him to watch her with his dark violet eyes and then say three words: “I am sorry.”
Why was everybody insisting on apologising to her today?
And why was Rhys of all people apologising to her? Was it because of him looking into her mind? Seeing her deepest darkest secrets? Stripping her mind naked for him to see and gawk at? 
Was it that?
“About taking a peek into my mind? Weren’t you trying to keep my pain at bay?” she asked, crossing her arms, ignoring the pain that appeared again in her ribs. 
“I was,” Rhys agreed. “But I should have known better. I was arrogant and not careful enough. You have a right to privacy, Eira, and I violated that. And then I violated it further when I told everybody what you felt when they were talking to you.”
Oh great. It just got worse and worse. 
“It’s fine,” she said, waving him off meekly. She didn’t have the strength to argue with him right now. 
“It’s not,” Rhys disagreed with a sigh. “And that’s not the only thing that I am sorry about either. I am sorry about the role I played in making you feel like you have no place here in Velaris,” he continued and her head snapped up to him. 
How…of course. He had seen everything. 
 “Like you are worthless…that you don’t matter,” Rhys continued softly. “I should have never talked to you like that, and I should have realised that we have taken you for granted a very long time ago,” Rhys said. “Even now you are wondering why Feyre and Nesta even bother to apologise to you. Eira, it wasn’t right how we treated you. When I finally got to pull myself from your mind, I threw up, because I was so utterly disgusted with what members of our family said to you. And I am counting myself onto that list as well.”
She didn’t even know what to say to that. 
She didn’t…
It was everything she had ever wished anybody would tell her…Everything right there offered to her on a silver platter. 
She could feel the tears burn into her eyes because she was…”What do you want?” Eira finally choked out. “What do you want, Rhysand? You wouldn’t say that if you didn’t want something. So what is it?”
What did he want that…
But she hadn’t expected him to reach out, one warm broad hand settling on her shoulder. 
“Oh, little one,” he breathed. “I don’t…I don’t want anything from you. This isn’t me manipulating you into giving up even more of yourself. The only thing I want is for you to be happy. I want you to know that we love you. I want you to know that none of us took for granted what you did…that you took this knife for Nyx. You were willing to give your own life for my son, Eira.” 
She had. 
“I am sorry for the role I played. I am not expecting you to forgive me now, but I would…hope that you may let me earn your forgiveness. May let all of us work for it.”
She had no idea what to think of that, didn’t know what to say about any of that, as the tears ran over her cheeks and he handed her a handkerchief from nowhere, his magic easily answering his call. 
“Think about it?” he requested softly. “If you don’t think you can ever forgive us…we’ll figure out somewhere else for you to stay…you won't ever need to worry about money or anything else…but if you were willing to give us a second chance…I know that Feyre and Nesta would be so happy to have you here.”
She didn’t want to go anywhere else. She was too connected to her family for that, she loved them too much that she thought that she could be happy anywhere further away from them. Maybe a smarter person would have taken Rhys’ offer with both hands, would have made herself a nice little life somewhere near the Summer Court maybe…but…
So finally she just nodded. 
She would give them a chance to fix things. She could try. 
And if it didn’t work out…maybe she would find herself somewhere else then. 
“There is…something else, I need to show you, if that’s alright, though,” Rhys continued quietly. “And it’s not..going to be…nice,” he warned her. “Elain had a vision.”
A vision? A bad one? “When?” Eira asked tonelessly. Were they in danger? 
“Close to two years ago,” Rhys answered gently. “Soon after you were made…and since then Elain has…manipulated circumstances so that it wouldn’t come to fruition. She didn’t tell anybody about it.”
This didn’t sound well. This didn’t sound like her sister either. 
“Is she alright?” Eira demanded and Rhys nodded. 
“She’s fine,” he promised her, his voice even. “I think it’s better if you see it if you’ll let me show you.” 
She nodded her agreement, swallowing…steeling herself for death and destruction and then getting…neither. 
Actually, that vision was…the softest, sweetest thing she had ever seen. 
It was…It was everything she had ever wanted. 
A little girl with her caramel brown hair…dark eyes…hazel and green…and wings. She had wings? Illyrian wings?
Eira watched herself with the little girl…watched them pull the carrots out of the ground…watched the little girl grin at her, gap-toothed and beautiful…everything she had ever wanted. 
And then…then she saw these violently scarred hands that had only ever touched her with so much gentleness…scoop up the little girl, her daughter…her mud-sprinkled dress decorated with little floral embroidery and settled her on his hip in a move that looked like he had done it hundreds and thousands of time. 
It was…
Azriel. 
What? How…why…the wings. It was his child? Her child? His child? Their child?!
He lifted up the basket that they kept their harvest in and then helped up her…the touch gentle and…intimate in a way that spoke of their…that…
One hand was pressed against the swell of her belly…another child slumbering inside her. 
A baby. 
Her babies. 
Their babies. 
No, this…this…
Her blood rushed in her ears, her breathing rapid as her vision cleared and Rhys looked at her quietly…nearly pitying. 
“The mating bond snapped for Azriel during dinner a few days ago,” he told her, his voice quiet. 
No. No. No. 
“This isn’t funny.” She wasn’t even sure how she forced these words out of her mouth. She wasn’t sure how she did that…How she…
“It’s not a joke,” Rhys assured her quietly. “It’s the truth, Eira. Elain saw that and decided to stop it from happening.
No. 
Not Elain. Not her twin sister. Not…
Azriel. Azriel?
At least I found two males in my life willing to marry me. The one you have your ridiculous puppy crush on is never even going to look at you!”
But you do need to realise, Eira, that that is never going to go anywhere. 
Azriel is completely disinterested. And it would be better for you if you finally realised that.
I want you to be happy. And thirsting after a male that will never return your affections you won’t do that. He’s not going to change his mind, Eira.
You should just stop your pathetic attempts to flirt with him. All you manage is to make him uncomfortable. 
There are plenty of fish in the sea… You’ll find somebody else one day.
It’s still never going to go anywhere!
He’s completely disinterested.
Her breathing came in sharp gasps. Blood rushed in her ears. 
Elain had said all of that. Elain. 
Elain, who had known that Eira had fallen in love. Who had seen this vision…who had seen her…her children. Her babies. 
Azriel’s children. These perfect babies? 
And Elain had tried to make sure that they never would exist?!
Her babies…
The first sob that broke out of her chest, the first fat tears that spilt over her face as she buried her face in her hands…as she cried. 
“I know. I know, little one,” Rhys whispered quietly. 
“Why did she do this?” Eira forced out, forcing a deep lungful of air into her constricting lungs. Why would she do this? Why had she…Why had Elain seen this and then…then behaved like this…why had she…Why…
“Shhhhh,” Rhys shushed her softly, gently brushing a hand over her hair, smoothing it over “It’s alright. It’s alright.” 
It wasn’t alright. None of this was alright.
And she couldn’t stop the tears or the sob that shook her…even as she didn’t know how long it took until Nesta crawled into bed with her, hauling her against her body and holding her tightly. Even as Feyre curled up next to her, holding her hand…until it was the three of them, just as it had been in that cottage…lacking one sister. 
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ellatoone7 · 6 months
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Comfort in Chaos
Alexia’s favourite girls series
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Alexia picks the pieces up after a fight
“Isabella Maria Putellas get down here right now!” You had told your daughter countless of times to put her dirty plate into the dishwasher and yet you are looking at said plate. Emilia and Alexia send each other curious looks from where they are lounging on the couch. 
Your sixteen year old trudges down the stairs with a scowl plastered on her face and an attitude that is not going to get her anywhere in this conversation. “Why would you say I called you down here?” You sternly asked, crossing your arms and trying not to pinch the bridge of your nose in frustration. Bella shrugged as she nonchalantly leaned against the wall, “Isabella I won’t ask you again!” The threat flew over her head as she rolled her eyes, “Will you please just put your plate away, that’s all I’ve asked you to do.” You pleaded on the verge of tears, you were extremely tired from your day of work and nobody seemed to be on your side. 
Alexia picked up on your tone and knew that this was not going to end well. Isabella however didn’t even bat an eyelid to your pleading, “Emilia didn’t put hers away.” You took a deep breath, “Your sister helped make the dinner.” Isabella scowled as she glared up at you, “No, no voy a guardar mi estúpido plato de comida!” You were taken aback by her sudden burst of anger and you knew you had to put your foot down. “Ya está, up to your room and don’t come out for the night. You’re grounded, give me your phone.” 
Isabella scoffed and stomped her foot much like she used to do when she was younger. “You are the worst, Mami would never treat me like this, ¡Te odio!” The words rattled around the house as it fell silent. Isabella looked taken aback by her words as she caught her breath, regret starting to seep into her but she was still angry. Alexia quickly made herself known, “Habitación ahora.” She firmly told her eldest, Isabella went to argue, “¡Ahora!” The sixteen year old knew better than to argue when her Mamí was mad so she retreated back upstairs. 
“That was mean.” Isabella heard a small voice as she started up the stairs, Val was clinging to the door of the living room as she looked up at her sister with an unsure look. “Lo sé.” She sighed regretfully as she hung her head. She wanted to apologise straight away but she was stubborn. Meanwhile in the kitchen Alexia was trying to assess the damage. She watched as you went back to washing up seemingly unbothered to anyone else but your wife saw straight through the façade. It was obvious in the way that your shoulders tensed and the deep breath that was released. 
You walked passed her, picking up the plate that was the cause of all this and aggressively starting to wash it. “Vale, no come here bebita.” The blonde sighed as you dropped the plate to fall into her arms. Her strong arms were wrapped tightly around you as she kissed the top of your head, “It’s okay, she didn’t mean that.” You Cleary didn’t believe her as you hummed non committedly. “I am a terrible mother.” You decided as Alexia’s eyes widened at your confession, “Basta, eres la major madre e Isabella lo sabe. Fights happen, we’ve fought does that make me a terrible wife.” 
You gripped her jumper as you breathed in her comforting scent, “No, you are the best wife.” Alexia smiled gently, wanting to bring you as much comfort as she possibly could. “So what does that make you?” Her large hands rested on either side of your face as yours stayed firmly gripped in her hoodie, “A good mother.” Alexia tutted softly before correcting you, “The best mother and the best wife and the greatest woman I have ever known, we are the luckiest girls on earth to have someone like you in our lives, vale?” You leaned up to kiss her sweetly, trying to convey just how much you adored the mother of your children and your soulmate. 
“She is so grounded.” Alexia sighs as she looks up at the ceiling where your daughters room is. “Yeah right, as if that will last.” You chuckle before pulling yourself together. It was then that you noticed Emilia hovering by the door, concern etched all over her face. You nodded her over and suddenly she was standing right in front of you. “You okay mommy?” Your twelve year old asked as she glanced up to your wife for reassurance. Just like she had with you Alexia managed to calm her daughter down with a few strokes to her hair, “I’m okay Meels, prometo.” She nodded before pouting cutely, “Am I going to be grumpy when I turn thirteen.” You had to stifle your laugh as your wife reassured her that she was already grumpy and that nothing would change. 
“By the way Dani’s a sleep under the table again and Val painted all over her face.” Emilia said as she left the room. Alexia winced as she turned slowly around to where you were glaring at her playfully. “She can sleep with you tonight while you sleep on the couch.” You teased as her eyes widened, rushed pleas as she grabbed a towel and prepared to wake up the three year old that was sure to be grumpy. 
Isabella was in fact let out of her room not even an hour after the incident with a warning and a tearful apology to her mom. 
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flowercrowngods · 1 year
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this wouldn't leave me alone, so have my thoughts on a steve-centric "who did this to you?" steddie concept inspired by @imfinereallyy (i hope this is okay, even though it's uhhh nothing like what you mentioned)
When Eddie gets to the boathouse, he immediately notices that something is off. The door is cracked open but he can’t hear anyone talking or moving stuff around. No one ever comes here — it’s been his hideout spot since the ripe age of thirteen when he’d had hist first real fight with Wayne. 
No one comes here. But now the door is cracked open and Eddie stares at it for a good minute as though that would make it come to life and tell him who’s inside so he won’t have to look and deal with whoever decided to steal his spot. He’s really not in the mood to start any shit today, or to be called all sorts of names — most of which aren’t even half as true as people fear. 
His first instinct is to leave, find somewhere else to hide from this miserable world today, when he hears it. The sound of sniffling, followed by wet, heavy breaths. 
Oh. It sounds like someone’s crying. In his spot.
Maybe it’s some girl who got her heart broken, some dude who lost the last bit of faith in his family, or some kid who— 
Ah, fuck it, he’ll just come back later. Not his problem. Definitely not his problem. And it’s definitely not guilt or worry that gnaw at him as he turns on his heel to leave. 
But then there’s a groan. A pained groan. Someone’s in pain, and crying in his spot, and Eddie really shouldn’t make that his problem. He shouldn't. Nopbody cares when he's crying and in pain either! But fuck if he won’t be thinking about it for the rest of his life if he turns his back on whoever it is. Maybe they need help. 
They most certainly sound like they do.
With a heavy sigh, Eddie is already at the door before he can think about it too much. 
“Hello?” he asks the darkness, and immediately the sniffling stops. 
Silence falls, but only for a moment before whoever it is has to draw shaky, wheezing breaths that make Eddie swear under his breath. 
“Listen, I know you’re here.” He’s taking slow, deliberate steps, his eyes roaming he mess of boats, tools and tarp he knows so well.  “And I’m not trying to start anything. Tell me to go away and I will. But I have a first aid kit in my car and, uh, you sound like maybe you need it.” 
There’s no response, but the wheezing breaths turn into whimpers with every second that whoever it is tries very hard not to make any noise, and Eddie’s heart starts to race in his chest. He can feel worry and panic starting to rise. And overshadowing it is an overwhelming sense of dread.
What the fuck is happening? 
He tries to be careful but his mind is racing and his limbs are starting to feel like lead. His wary steps become heavy and clumsy, and then he accidentally boots something that makes a terrible, horrible noise, breaking the eerie silence. Eddie cringes and is about to apologise, when finally there is movement in his peripheral vision. 
And then he sees him. There, hidden in the shadows between a boat and the far wall, his face breaten and bloodied, his eye swelling around a nasty bruise. Wait, do bruises bleed? Should they look black like that? Is it a cut? Something worse?
Even after years of constant bullying and goading in middle school and high school, he has never actually seen someone look like this. With their face completely smashed in. It makes him freeze for a horrible, horrible moment before he saps out of it.
“Fuck,” Eddie breathes, hurrying over as fast as he can, stumbling over tools and tarp as he does. Something falls to the floor with a loud clunk and it makes the boy flinch again. Eddie curses. “Sorry, shit, sorry!” 
He makes it to the boat rather quickly, crouching down in front of the boy a few feet away so as not to spook him, not to crowd him. And then his heart only plummets further, because he knows this one. 
Steve Harrington. The boy who’s come to school with many a black eye over the past two years — but never this bad. The boy who’s been looking like the world might be about to end each time he rounded a corner in school; ever since things started happening around Hawkins. Since the Holland girl died and the Byers boy disappeared. 
It fascinated Eddie, the way Steve fell from grace. The way he turned quiet, and showed up with healing bruises. There are stories woven around it, because teenagers like to gossip and word spreads fast, and Eddie always listened with rapt attention as Harrington turned into a bit of a myth. A legend. A ghost story.
But fascination is not what he feels right now, seeing Steve like this.
His eyes are unfocused and Eddie knows about the danger of head injuries. He knows about the consequences of blood loss, he knows that Steve will be warm to the touch even though he’s shivering already, and… Fuck!
“Shit, Steve,” he rasps, not daring to speak louder lest he spooks the boy. Of all the reasons he’s had to be afraid of talking to Steve Harrington, this one might be the cruellest. "I..."
He takes in his wounds, his bruised and scraped knuckles where his hands are wrapped around the knees he’s pulled to his chest, and his split lip that he keeps biting. 
Eddie swallows before he asks, “Who did this to you?” 
But Steve just shakes his head clumsily. Sniffles again, and then his breath comes in wet heaves, and Eddie worries for a moment that he’s going to throw up now. 
He doesn’t. 
Steve’s just staring. Eddie isn’t even entirely sure he can see him, or maybe he did and then forgot, or maybe he’s fading. Eddie should do something, he should get help, he should— 
“Steve,” he says, and dares to touch him when he doesn’t react. 
A light touch to the knee shouldn’t make anyone flinch like that, but Steve’s whole body jumps, and then the shivers and the wheezing get worse. It almost sounds like a whimper, and Eddie curses again. Feels like crying now, scared and helpless as he is.
“Fuck, I’m sorry. I’m sorry, okay, I— Jesus, okay.” He swallows hard, trying to think, willing for the panic to subside and a plan to form. “You’re okay. I... I’m gonna, I’m gonna grab the first aid kit. I have it in my car. It’s not, it’s not far. And a blanket. So you'll be warm again. I’ll be right back, okay? Don’t move, don’t…" He gestures wildly, caught between reaching out and pulling away. "Don’t move.” 
Eddie takes a wavering breath and moves to stand on numb, tingly legs, nearly missing Steve’s, “Can’t.” It’s barely more than a whisper, hardly even a wheeze. It’s like he’s just breathing out words because everything else is too much effort. 
Right. Right. This is messed up and Eddie’s panicking, but Steve will be okay. Because things like that don’t happen, not here, not today, and not to Steve Harrington. 
Except this is Hawkins. Where Will Byers disappeared and Barb Holland died and many people are missing and weird shit just ends up happening everywhere even though they’re all just kids. They’re just kids. And Steve’s not even conscious enough to realise that right now. 
Eddie all but runs outside, sprinting to his van with a speed that would make the coach swallow his stupid whistle if gym class only mattered right now. It doesn't. Nothing matters, because Steve is... He's hurt. And there's no one else around to help.
Grabbing the first aid kit, a bottle of water and a thick blanket he always keeps spread out in the back of his van, he makes it back to the boathouse in no time. 
He wasn’t even gone for three minutes, but still he sighs in relief when Steve is still awake. He even looks up. Blinks. Frowns in what can only be confusion and makes Eddie's heart fall.
“Munson?” 
Fuck, that’s not a good sign. That’s messed up, it’s fucked up, it’s— Focus, Eddie! 
“The one and only,” he says, voice shaky and his smile not fooling anyone. He wraps the blanket around Steve, whose eyes are unfocused again, though he tries so hard to blink it away. 
Brave boy, stupid boy. Head trauma isn’t blinked away. Though Eddie is inclined to let him try. Maybe he’ll find a way. 
“Here.” He hands the bottle over to Steve, who grabs it with clumsy hands. He can hold it, but he can’t get it open — again, not a good sign. 
Eddie opens it for him, then turns to his first aid kit. It seemed like a great idea five minutes ago, but he’s petrified now. It’s too dark in here and he can’t really see the wounds, he doesn’t know what to use, what’s in there, he doesn’t, he can’t, he— 
The bottle, empty now, is handed back to him, bumping into his hand, tearing him away from his spiralling thoughts. 
“Thanks,” Harrington breathes, and there’s a small smile visible in the darkness. Eddie just nods and takes it with hands that are still shaking.
“I wanna help you,” he says, like it isn’t obvious. “But I don’t know how. You gotta tell me where it hurts, Steve.” 
A beat. “Everywhere.” 
Eddie sags, falling back to sit opposite Steve, frantically rubbing at his face. “Shit.” 
“Yeah.” Steve chuckles, but it sounds so wet with tears and pain, Eddie never wants to hear it again. “Thought I could do it.” 
He’s talking. That’s a good thing, right? He can’t pass out as long as he’s talking. That’s how that works, isn’t it? So, Eddie asks, “Do what?” 
“Doctors told me,” Steve sighs, his voice slow and slurring. “Told me to... to stay out of fights. Stay out of them. Said I had to make sure my head won’t—“ 
He makes a motion with his fist, and Eddie thinks he’s simulating a punch, disoriented as it is. It makes his heart fall. Is that what happened? Someone beat Steve to a pulp? Again? Just like that?
Eddie is so stuck on that thought, trying to piece together the puzzle, that he almost misses Steve’s mumbled speech. 
“Y’know, th— Said I’ll go blind. Or deaf. Or just… die.” He says it to matter-of-factly that Eddie’s heart stops for a second.
What the fuck happened to Steve Harrington? Not just today, no. What happened to him?
What happend to make him look up at Eddie Munson, out of all people, with glistening eyes so endlessly scared, and say, “I don’t wanna die, Munson. I never… I didn’t. With the monsters or the torture. I can't—” A wheeze, a keen, a whimper, and Harringtin pulls at his hair, uncaring that he's making things worse.
Meanwhile, Eddie is stuck on his words. Because what. 
“Can’t, can't die now ‘cause Tommy thinks he’s so… He’s… He’s just sad, man. Griev'n' and confused. But Billy’s gone, an'— And now I’ll…”
Steve looks at him now, his eyes shining with tears and something that Eddie’s written poems about and created characters around. This expression, like the world will end. And inspiring as it is, it fucking breaks his heart now. 
“They said my brain is hurt, Eddie.”
Eddie swallows the hurt and the fear and the complete overwhelm he's feeling. Steve is telling him things that Eddie doesn't know how to handle.
“You won’t die, Steve,” he says in as gentle a voice as he can muster right now, because that's the only thing he knows.
And he won’t, right? People don’t just die. Not from taking a punch, not when they just graduated high school, not when they’re Steve Harrington. Right? 
“Yeah?” 
“Yeah.” 
“Okay,” Steve breathes. “That’s good.” 
Eddie wants to hug him in that moment. He never knew that this was possible, wanting to hug Steve Harrington, wanting to wrap the blanket around him even tighter and keep him safe and convince him that he won’t die. 
And then the rest of what he said catches up with Eddie and leaves anger in its wake. 
“Hagan did that to you?” 
Steve nods. “Started going off about Billy.”
Eddie’s blood freezes at that name. "Hargrove?” 
Another nod, though Steve doesn’t look too happy about moving his head, and he groans quietly. “They were friends. Tommy is angry. Grieving. Con— Confused. He was just saying shit, like it’s my fault. And it is. Kinda. But Tommy’s, he, he’s... Just saying shit. And then he punched me. A lot. And he didn’t stop. And now… is now.” 
“Yeah,” Eddie breathes dumbly, carefully bandaging the glaring wound at his temple, needing to start somewhere. “Now is now.” His blood is still frozen as he tries very hard not to listen to Steve. Nothing that Harrington says has any right to matter anything to him; they live in two different worlds. If Harrington confesses to murder while severely concussed under Eddie’s watch, then there are no witnesses to drag either of them through the mud for it. Eddie is just gonna forget about it. Or try, anyway. “But you’re… Shit , Steve, you’re really hurt.” 
Steve blinks. Pauses. And Eddie thinks he’s lost him. But then, “Yeah. I’m always hurt.” 
And that, in this little voice, is like a gut punch. Because Eddie knows something about always hurt. “What?” 
“What?” 
There is ice in his veins as he asks, “Who’s hurting you, Steve?” 
Steve looks at him, opening his mouth once, twice, like he’s about to say something and Eddie holds his breath. But then Steve’s eyes droop and he shrinks in on himself a bit more. 
“Jus’ everyone, sometimes. God you don’t… You don’t even know.” 
Know what, Harrington? Eddie can barely breathe anymore.
“’M tired, Eddie,” Steve mumbles, closing his eyes. “Don’t wanna hurt anymore.” 
“Hey, hey, no!” Eddie reaches out, catching Steve’s head and preventing it from colliding with the floor as he’s slumping and falling over. 
And just like that, the panic is back, frantic but determined this time. He’s going to get help; there’s nothing he can do with his lousy first aid kit, not when Steve keeps going in and out of consciousness like that. Not when he can barely see anything or clean the wounds properly.
He’s going to get Steve to a hospital and allow them both to forget this ever happened. Because Steve Harrington and Eddie Munson don’t breathe the same air or share traumatic stories in a boathouse like this. 
He’ll get out of Steve’s hair the second the hospital doors close behind him, and get out of whatever trouble someone like Harrington could be in. Eddie doesn’t even want to know. He doesn't want to be part of his ghost story.
But as he’s scooping him up and helping him out of the damned boathouse, clumsily preventing him from stumbling over his own feet or tools or tarp or planks or whatever fucking shit is littering the floor of this godforsaken place, he can hear Steve speaking quietly. 
"Where‘re we going?"
And even though a second ago he was determined to take Steve to a hospital, there is only one place on Eddie's mind right now. Only one place he knows where he won't be scared anymore.
"Somewhere safe," he says, tightening his hold on the boy even though his hands are shaking now, too. He looks over his shoulders the moment they're out of the boathouse, stupidly worried that whoever did this to Steve – Hagan, apparently – would still be around, would follow them and do the same shit to Eddie.
"Safe?"
"Safe."
"Okay," Steve sighs, like he believes him. Like he trusts him. Hell, they've never even spoken before, but something inside Eddie breaks at the little sigh, at the way Steve goes slack in his arms. And even more at the little, "Thanks."
If Eddie's eyes are filled with tears and the hands around the wheel are clenched so tight to hide the way they're shaking, then Steve is not conscious enough to comment on it.
(addendum 7 december) onwards to part 2
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artinvain · 5 months
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abby is terrible and toxic and really good at gaslighting apologising and so sexy and oops - dacryphilia
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• ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆• ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆• ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ Abby had called you sixteen times. you huff as your phone rings, make that seventeen. your scalding shower cleared your mind for it’s duration but as soon as you stepped out you were bombarded with thoughts about abby.
was she okay? why should it matter to you, because she does stupid things when she’s upset. you chastise yourself for even defending her — you were the one that caught her sharing air with ellie. with her fucking hands on ellie’s hips, your best friend, the thought made you sick.
abby: please talk to me
you ignore the message, pulling clothes on while it continues to buzz incessantly. abby: I’m so sorry you saw that, I can explain
abby: I won’t stop I need you to talk to me
you sighed exasperated as you sat on your couch and started to type, redacting words and switching things around until your eyes hurt and you can’t see from the tears. you wanted to reply to abby, you wanted to give her a piece of your mind but why should you? she’d done this before, she promised —
you promised abby, you promised it wouldn’t happen again.
you bit your fist while waiting for her reply. more tears as you thought about your first reconciliation, when she’d finally earned your trust. and now you couldn’t even trust your best friend. abby stops typing and your heart drops, until she’s banging on your door and calling your name.
“baby, please, please open up for me,” she whimpers, “just wanna talk,” you hate yourself for it but open the door and abby sighs relived. you glare at her as she steps closer, “honey you know this happened last time too,” abby sighs stepping closer when you cross you arms and look away, “that was different-“ but abby shushes you and tips your chin up with her finger tip, looking down on you with big watery eyes.
“no it wasn’t -“ she whispered “you were wasted you thought you saw me kissing someone but I wasn’t,” she said softly, following your eyes, “but you and ellie -“ you sighed.
“we didn’t kiss, she wanted me to,” she hummed, “I would never, she was all over me,” a hand coming to sit gingerly on your hip. “I promise you baby, I’m all yours,” you lean slowly into her touch and -
god yes — she knows she’s getting you and almost feels bad, she didn’t like doing this but she couldn’t lose you, she would go on a killing rampage. she needed you. but abby also couldn’t seem to stop herself from making mistakes again and again.
“you didn’t kiss her?” you ask, you sort of felt bad for doubting her, abby took care of you, she protected you. you knew she had bad dealings but she kept it all away from you. “no love I didn’t,” she hums her hand cupping your cheek as your eyes start to leak.
“I’m sorry,” abby says, looking into your eyes and kissing your forehead, “I love you okay, and I wouldn’t - I can’t lose you,” she whines as your arms engulf her and she pulls you close her warm arms caging you. “I’m so sorry,” she whispers, kissing your temple, your cheek again and again until you’re desperately clawing at her vest, rugged her impossibly closer and tasting her lips, your mouth on hers -tongue licking into her mouth for a taste. her tongue lapped over yours, her arms pulling you in tight, her whole body apologising.
“let’s-“ you say inbetween kisses, “bedroom,” you stumble back through the hallway into your bedroom, as she removes your top and you run your hands over her sensitive tits until you fall into your bed. “m’gonna prove it,” abby says with ragged breath. “prove you’re mine, that I’m just for you,” she leans over you sucking your bottom lip and kissing you pressing her mouth to yours I need you is what she’s saying.
you grip her head as abby kisses down your chest, taking your bra off and gently squeezing your tits and then “fuck,” you moan as you tangle your hand in her hair as abby sucks on your nipples, lightly grazing them with her teeth, groaning as she mouths at and kisses all over your chest leaving marks glittering your torso. abby licked her lips as she lay between your legs, “i’m yours baby, jus for you,”
she slurs as she sniffs you mouthing your pussy through your panties, tasting your wetness and sucking on your clit, “ungh-abby,” you gasp, bucking your hips as she tears the fabric down your legs. she’s fucking drooling at the sight of you, humping the bed huffing like she was in heat. there was no one like you. she marvelled for a second how you pulsed as she gently touches your folds and spread you wide, her breath making you jump. “please! fuck abby please,” you didn’t realise you were crying but abby could hear it in your voice and she clenched her jaw, trying to stop herself from cumming, but when she tasted you she groaned loudly, her hips jerking as she explodes, she can feel her clit rubbing on her strap. gripping your thighs tight and laying your legs over her shoulders abby licks her thick tongue through you and suckles at your clit all the while, the tip of her tongue breaching your hole.
“jesus! fuck, abby!” you near yell as she devours you, her head shaking from side to side, her tongue constantly softly sucking and then her finger is curling gently into you, pressing in and out, “mhyour cunt is so fucking good baby,” abby words slur as she goes back to kissing and licking you. you moan loudly your thighs going to tighten around her head and she lets you muffle her ears, pulling you close and exploring your body with her free hand.
when she looks up at you, you’re glorious, skin dewey as you writhe and your nipples so tight, god she wants to suck on them again. and your face is beautifully contorted, your mouth open in a constant series of grunts and moans and callings of her name and god. “abby, shit, i’m - fucking ahh—“ you yelp as Abby stretches you, her fingers fitting you to the hilt and curling. your back arches and your brain melts as you shake, “fuck!” abby hears you, sees the tears on your pretty face and goes cross eyed. “abs- baby, abby! god that’s so good,” you grunt out your body still jerking and grinding up against her as she works albeit gently on you.
abby slowly releases you, her chin and cheeks covered in your sweet stickiness, she licks handfuls as she comes to kiss you, removing her pants and you don’t even question why she’s wearing a strap but you know it’s your favourite and you were too stuck dumb by pleasure to care.
“I’m yours, you hear me?” she moans as she slicks herself up with your cum and her spit, she eases you in, watches your face as you close your eyes up tight. “say I’m yours,” she tells you, gripping your cheeks and kissing your pouting mouth. “you’re mine, you’re fucking mine,” you scratch your nails down her back as she eases in to the hilt.
“mine abby, you’re mine,” and there are those pretty fucking tears again, “so pretty fuck,” she moans holding you tight and snapping her hips into you. “abby—“ you gasp “I can’t hold - I’m gonna cum,”
“cum f’me baby,” abby whispers, “it’s okay, please baby you can cum, please for me,”
You can barely breathe with the way your body constricts and then releases as she moan scratching Abby’s back and arm as she fucks you through your orgasm, until you’re yelling from oversensitivity, “okay baby, okay,” she cooes removing herself and kicking her strap off, pulling you in close and gathering a blanket to cover you. abby kisses your forehead and you lay on her chest. and you wonder if this cycle will ever end.
• ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ jesus please don’t be like this in real life. this is deranged behaviour please please it’s just fantasy to test waters and get my emotional experiences out safely thanks bye 😘
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