#so you can catch up on his story there if you want

[sunny44]

Stubborn

Paring: Carlos Sainz x Leclerc!reader

Warnings: mentions of surgery, appendix removed, sickness and maybe other things

Summary: Carlos insists on going to the race even after just having surgery.

This story is the second part of Secret Love, but if you haven't read the first part you'll understand this chapter here without any problem. But I would recommend you read it.

Today was race day and we were getting ready to leave the hospital. Since the surgery went well, they discharged Carlos.

“Honey, I’ve finished packing your things. Can we go to the hotel and…” At that moment, he emerged from the bathroom wearing the Ferrari shirt. “Why are you dressed like that?”

“We’re heading to the Paddock,” he said. I looked at him in disbelief.

“Of course not, are you crazy? You just had surgery and you already want to go back there?”

“Honey, I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not. You have stitches in your stomach and you already want to go there? You’re not even going to race.”

“Babe.”

“No, listen, if you want to go, fine.” I angrily threw the rest of his things into the backpack. “But I’m not going with you.”

“Y/n.”

“No, I went through hell yesterday fearing something might happen to you, only for you to tell me you want to go there to watch the race.” I zipped up the backpack. “I hate this, you and Charles are just the same.”

“What does your brother have to do with this?”

“That you both have this reckless tendency to put your lives at risk for stupid things.” I tried to control myself from crying. “I won’t have another one in my life who makes me go through this.”

Before he could say anything, his father entered the room, and I stormed out, heading back to the hotel.

It’s things like this that makes me angry. I already have two brothers who are always putting themselves in danger and often doing unnecessary things. I never used to be so afraid of these things until Jules’ death. It was a dark moment in our lives, and knowing that he died in a way that my two brothers and now my boyfriend could also die leaves me extremely worried and on the verge of having a panic attack.

So the fact that he wants to go to the paddock to watch the race after surgery makes me furious.

When I got to the hotel, I went straight to take a shower, dried my hair, and put on pajamas since I would be here the rest of the day. I ordered room service and turned on the TV to watch the race, and immediately saw Carlos entering the paddock. He was walking slowly because of the surgery, and I just shook my head and settled back into bed.

Midway through the race, I was packing my bags since I would be catching a flight to Monaco early tomorrow morning when the door suddenly opened scaring me and Carlos walked into the room.

“Hey,” he said, closing the door.

“Hey.” I finished packing my suitcase and placed it on the floor.

“Leaving?”

“We have a flight to Monaco tomorrow morning, so…”

“Are you staying at my place or…”

“I’m staying at my mom’s.”

“I thought you were staying with me.”

“That was before this morning.”

“Y/n…”

“I’m not trying to control you or tell you what to do, but you were extremely irresponsible with your health today by going to the race, which could harm your recovery.”

“I know.”

“And yet you went.”

“But I’m here, I came back because I knew you were right and…” He stopped because he winced in pain.

“Lie down.” I took his hand and helped him onto the bed, lifting his shirt. “Did you changed this today?”

“Not yet.” I sighed and got the things I had bought earlier in the morning, starting to clean the wound. “Ouch.”

“Sorry,” I said, finishing cleaning and applying a new dressing. “Here are your medications, they might make you a bit drowsy, so you’ll probably fall asleep.”

“I’m really sorry,” he said again. “Charles didn’t explain the reason, but he told me this upsets you.”

“Yeah, it does.”

“Do you want to tell me why?” He opened his arms, and I lay down on his chest.

“It’s because Jules died doing what you and my brothers do.” He hugged me tighter. “And I remember vividly the pain I felt when they buried him, leaving only memories and grief.”

“I’m sorry you feel that way and that I contribute to what scares you.”

“I don’t mind your job; I like seeing you do what you love and achieving your dreams. But I can’t help feeling scared every time you, Charles, or Arthur get into those cars.” I sighed and started tracing circles with my fingers on his chest. “It’s just that I don’t know if I could handle it if something happened to any of you. It’s not about the surgery; I just want to prevent anything from happening to you guys over something as trivial as going to watch the race in person after having your appendix removed.”

“I’m sorry for not realizing that and for ignoring your advice to rest.”

“It’s okay, I should have been honest about what was scaring me.”

“Are we okay?” he asked.

“We are.” He smiled and kissed my forehead. “But from now on, if you do something like this again, you’ll have to work a lot harder for my forgiveness. I’m just being nice now because you’re recovering.”

“Okay, that’s fair enough for me.” We switched positions, and he lay on my chest. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Bonus scene!

Carlossainz instagram stories

“Thank you all for the love messages you’ve been sending to me, it has certainly helped me a lot. I'm still recovering but with the help of all my team and my wonderful girlfriend I'm getting better every day." Tagged: Y/nleclerc

[quinnylouhughesx43]

Chirps

requested

summary: Luke’s long term girlfriend is a beautician. The team chirps him about his unruly curls so he goes to see her at work.

warnings: none? unedited at the moment

The work day had just come to a close when the bells ringing on the door jingled signaling someone had just entered. You jerked your head to look towards the door to be greeted by your stress stricken looking boyfriend. After leaning the broom you had in your hand back up against the wall, you quickly approached him. “Luke? Is everything okay? You look like you did the day of your draft…” You let your voice drift as you reached him and he made grabby hands to signify he wanted to hold you. “The guys are chirping me about my hair again. Even my own brother is in on it this time.” He’s mumbling as he’s pressed his face down into your neck, but after two years of dating and three years of friendship prior, you’re a Luke Hughes mumbling specialist. Luke lifted his head and rested his chin on your head.

“They’ve gone as far to point out that my girlfriend is a professional beautician for all sorts of people. Celebrities, athletes, everyday people, and I go around unruly. They don’t know how you’re not embarrassed of me.” His voice waivers at the end of his statement. You feel a fragment of your heart break. Pulling out of his embrace slightly, just enough to look up at him and cup the left side of his face. “I promise you, the last thing I am is embarrassed of you. I am nowhere near being embarrassed.” The two hold eye contact, Luke slowly unwinds but it’s still obvious he’s not having what his teammates said.

Rubbing your thumb slightly across his cheek and taking a moment to contemplate a way to help without chopping off his precious curls. “What if we experiment on styling your curls baby? I have different products for curls. Curly hair is all different, so we can try one and if you don’t like it we can try another?” Luke slowly nodded, feeling better already . Luke has always been your soft boy. He’s apprehensive, always considerate, questions his actions, and wants you to be a part of his decisions. That is until you’re both having your alone time, and that is a story for another time.. Luke would never cut his hair unless you suggested it. Luke sat down in your chair waiting for you to work your magic.

Only after a few minutes of your hands in his hair, his head starting bobbing up and down. Catching his face in the mirror the sweet boy had fallen asleep. Deciding to let him rest for a bit, you leaned down and gave him a quick peck on the cheek and a ‘I love you Hughes’ before finishing what you were doing to his hair.

Once finished you sat in the chair next to him admiring him for a few short moments.

The two ended up staying in the salon all night. The next morning your coworkers find you all and take a ton of pictures before waking you up.

**I’ll have to edit this massively, im so exhausted like at one point I put Quinn’s name instead of Luke🫣 glad I caught it

[muwapsturniolo]

✯𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐃𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐄𝐚𝐬𝐲✯

IN WHICH…We experience a toxic relationship between a drug dealer and his baby momma

WARNINGS: NSFW CONTENT AHEAD!!! Toxic behaviors, slight domestic abuse (not really but I’m putting it as a warning anyway), drugs, sex, broken household

Words highlighted in orange is Chris and how he connects with the song. Pink highlighted words is Y/n (aka you) and how you connect with the song. Purple highlighted words is how both you and Chris (or others in the story) connect with the song.

Chris sighs as the beaten-up screen door squeaks open, the hot LA air immediately rushing past his face. He lets it close by itself as he walks along the porch, taking a seat in his chair. He sets down his cup and sparks his blunt, closing his eyes as he inhales the grape-flavored tobacco leaf and weed.

The sound of laughter catches his attention, making him open his eyes. He scans the lawn briefly before he lands on two bodies rolling around in the yard, one bigger than the other.

He whistles catching both of their attention, the younger one gasping in excitement.

"Mama! Daddy is awake!"

Chris catches the eye of the child's mother and sighs.

I know this ship is sailed and this is dead I'm singin', "RIP," I'm singin', "RIP," yeah

He can see the irritation in her eyes, a feeling he has been all to familiar with for the last three years. He doesn’t know when it started but if he had to guess, it was a month after Kehlani was born, their relationship taking a turn for the worst.

The relationship was dead and he knew it, he knew from the beginning they wouldn't last. But he did it for her, he tried to make things work but it seemed like she was against him.

Kehlani runs as fast as her little legs can take her, diving right into Chris's lap. He laughs and quickly moves the blunt away so he won't burn the four-year-old, or get smoke in their face.

I know you gave up long time ago Boy, I'm singin', "RIP," I'm singin', "RIP"

Y/n watches Kehlani and Chris giggle and play with each other on the porch, her heart sinking. She hates to admit it but she was envious of her daughter having all of Chris's attention.

It seemed like he hated her.

From the moment Chris laid eyes on the child, she was pushed back on the backburner. It was difficult to handle, especially going through postpartum.

She tried to do better, act better, hoping Chris would give her an ounce of attention, but he would just ignore her.

She knew Chris had given up on their relationship a long time ago, and it hurt. However, she has come to terms with it.

She stands up and brushes the grass and dirt off her pants, walking towards the home. She runs up the porch steps and frowns seeing the blunt near her child.

She snatches the four-year-old off of his lap and gives him a dirty look, “Momma I want to stay with Daddy!”

“No, it’s lunch time and then you need to nap.” She says getting ready to walk in the house.

She stops when she hears Chris’s voice, “Let her stay out here while you make us lunch.” She turns and sees Chris putting the blunt in his mouth, his eyes trained on her.

“I said no, Finish your blunt and come make your own food.”

She opens the screen door and steps foot into the house, only to freeze hearing Chris’s mumbling.

“Fucking bitch.”

All I need's some Loving,

"Daddy, do you love me?" Kehlani's words make Y/n chuckle to herself, a small smile ghosting her lips.

"Of course I do baby. I love you with my whole life and beyond."

The four-year-olds next words make Y/n stop in her tracks, "Do you love momma the same amount?"

She knows what Chris is going to say, he's going to mask it to the child but he's going to make it clear that he doesn't love her.

She grabs the plates of food and starts walking to the table.

"I love momma a lot, the same way I love you"

His words catch Y/n off guard and she trips and falls, the plates breaking and the food going everywhere. Chris quickly sets Lani on the couch, telling her not to move before he rushes into the kitchen.

"What the fuck happened?" He asks as he sees Y/n surrounded by broken plates and food. "I-Im sorry, I ju-" his eyes soften seeing her sniffling, her eyes glossy with salt water.

He inches forward, careful to avoid the sharp glass before kneeling in front of her. "Talk to me ma, what's wrong?"

"Y-you said you love me....you haven't said it in so long." She sobs out, her whole body shaking. He quickly pulls her into him, rubbing her back softly. "Shh, I know, and I'm sorry. You know I love you baby, I could never stop loving you."

She sobs even harder and grips Chris tightly,

That's all she ever wanted to hear.

"Why don't we order tonight?"

some fucking

"Shhh mama you don't wanna wake Lani up do you?" Chris asks, holding back a groan himself. Y/n moans quietly, her head thrown back in pleasure.

"Taking me so well mama's. Whose pussy is this?"

"Fuck! it's yours- all yours daddy!"

"That's right."

And you say this shit don't matter But we always goin' at it, ain't no trustin

"Why do we always fight?" Chris asks holding the girl in his arms. He can see the gears turning in her head, thinking of multiple reason as to why they fight, but she tells him it doesn't matter.

"But it does matter...all we do is fight." He thinks to himself.

I need some lovin', good, good fuckin'

It's times like this that make Y/n despise the father of her child. He never wants to address anything, he always wants to leave shit in the air, causing more arguments.

She doesn't want argument, she hates arguing.

She wants love, but he has to settle for sex to 'cure' their problems.

And we fussin' and we fight, and you always wonder why

Y/n scoffs as Chris continues to yell at her, "You always do this stupid shit Y/n! You wanna love me one minute, then you accuse me of fucking cheating and hating you!"

"Because you fucking do!" She screams at the top of her lungs. Chris stares at her with no emotion, used to her raising her voice at him.

"You asked me the other night why we always fussin' and fighting and it's because of you!" She stabs her finger in his chest. "You treat me like shit! I hear you calling me out my fucking name, I catch you giving me dirty looks!"

"That doesn't mean I hate you! And it sure as hell doesn't mean I cheated on you!"

Y/n smiles with tears in her eyes, " But it does Chris...I'm not dumb, I've seen the texts in your phone, I've seen you come home with hickeys...and I won't forget the night you came home and told me you cheated on me, because my body changed after I gave birth to your child!"

Chris's stomach falls to his ass as he watches Y/n begin to pack a bag.

"W-Where are you going?"

And my mama told me, "None of this should come as a surprise"

"It hurts so much! I do my best and it's never enough!" Y/n sobs into her mother's arms. She had packed a bag and left with Kehlani after her and Chris's argument, not wanting to spend another second with him.

"Baby none of this should come as a surprise. I've been told you this when you were younger after your daddy." Y/n looks up at her mother in confusion, her brows furrowed.

"W-what did you tell me?"

" love don't come easy, it don't come easy"

Love don't come easy, yeah, givin' up easy

"Don't give up on it yet baby...I know you want it to be a plain and simple game but you have to work for it, the both of you."

Times get hard, but nothing's easy

Let's go out

Y/n approaches Chris in the kitchen who is currently measuring out weed. She sits across from him and waits for him to acknowledge her. "What do you want?" He sounds irritated, making Y/n nervous. She looks down and fiddles with her fingers.

"I was thinking we could go out...like a date... like we used to."

Let's try it out

Chris stops measuring the weed and looks at her, "it was just a th-ok." He shrugs, leaning back in his chair.

"Really?"

She smiles genuinely, something he hasn't seen her do in a long time. He stands up and walks over to her, rubbing a hand over her face. "Yeah, lets try it out." She breaks out into a wide grin and jumps up, planting a fat kiss on his cheek.

You don't hear me out,

Y/n sighs as Chris tells her to be quiet. They were in the car driving home when somehow, an argument started. All she said was that maybe he shouldn't sell as much so they could spend more time with each other.

That's why you always run your mouth,

"You always have shit to say! You never shut the fuck up! It's always complaints and trying to fucking act better than me, and I'm sick of this shit! Just shut your fucking mouth!"

We been talking 'bout our love's runnin' out But you don't hear me out, yeah

"You don't fucking listen to me Chris! that's why I keep saying the same shit!" Y/n yells as they enter the house. She throws her heels in the corner and rushes towards the bedroom, grabbing a bag.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Chris asks, his eyes set on her frantic figure throwing clothes in the bag. She ignores him and goes to Kehlani's room, beginning to pack more clothes.

"I'm leaving you, that's what I'm doing. I'm taking Kehlani and leaving you!" She tries to move past Chris but he stands in her way. "You're not fucking leaving me Y/n, and you're not taking my child!" She ignores him and goes to step to the side but he moves with her. He grabs her making her jerk back, "Don't fucking touch me! Let me go Chri-YOU'RE NOT FUCKING LEAVING ME!" He slams her against the wall.

She winces as her head bounces off the wall, looking at Chris in fright.

That's why you always run your mouth

Chris's grip remains tight on her arms, his breathing heavy. "You're not leaving me, and you're not taking Lani either...J-just stop." His voice breaks as he stares into her eyes.

And all I need's some Lovin',

"You can't leave me, you c-can't take Lani away from me, please." His eyes begin to sting as tears blur his vision. "I'm tired of this Chris" Y/n croaks, her throat closing as she begins to cry as well. He nods, understanding her words. "I know ma, I know and I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry-" he wraps his arms around her waist and starts to kiss along her jawline.

some fuckin'

"Let me make it up to you...Let me show you how much I love you."

And the sex is still compatible But I ain't got no manual for trustin'

She knows she shouldn't, she shouldn't crave his touch, she shouldn't crave to be intimate with him. She should put her foot down and stand ten toes on her threat of leaving, but she doesn't.

Chris sees her hesitancy and continues to convince her, promising he will change, promising he will be more loving.

She doesn't know if she believes him, but she gives in anyway.

I need some lovin', good, good fuckin'

Y/n's head is pushed into the pillows as Chris slams into her repeatedly.

"Fuck, I love you so much Ma. Say it, say you love me."

"Fuck! I love you!" She reaches back, holding Chris's hand as his dick slides in and out of her dripping cunt.

You say something isn't right, only fuckin', gettin' high

"This feels weird" Y/n mumbles as she and Chris sit on the couch. They had put Lani to bed around an hour ago, and now they are on the couch watching TV. Chris looks down at the girl snuggled into his side, "What are you talking about Ma?"

She sits up and crosses her legs, playing with the fraying couch, "I mean...It seems like all we do is have sex and get high. We never sit with each other all cuddled up and relaxed, we're always arguing." Chris sighs and pulls the girl onto his lap, "Is that what you want to do? You want to only argue, have sex, and get high with me?" Y/n shakes her head, begging to play with his chain.

"Good, because I don't want to either."

And my daddy told me, "Hold your heart in order to survive"

"You have to do better son. For yourself, and your family." Chris sighs as he listens to his father's words. "I'm trying pops, I really am it's just hard."

"I know it is, but you have to hold your heart in order to survive. What I mean by that is that, your heart is your lifeline, without it you would die. Y/n is your lifeline son. Without her, you would destroy yourself. Hold her close, cherish her, water her like a flower so both you and your family can grow."

'Cause love don't come easy, it don't come easy Love don't come easy, yeah, givin' up easy

Y/n couldn't do it anymore.

She was fed up with the toxic relationship, so she left. She left while Chris was out dealing, throwing bags in her car and fleeing to her mothers house with Lani.

When Chris came home and saw the note on the fridge, he broke down. Vases being broken, and tables being flipped over as well.

He couldn't believe she gave up this easily on them, on what they could be.

Love don't come easy, it don't come easy (No, no) It don't come easy

Chris bangs on the door, waiting for someone to answer. eventually, it does open and he sees the girl who has been avoiding him for a month now.

"Chris?" She questions in confusion. She never told him she was staying at her mother's home, so to see him was a surprise. She crosses her arms and looks down at her shoes, "what do you want?"

"I want you back."

"Chris I do-"

Times get hard, but nothing's easy

tears form in her eyes as she looks at the ring in the box.

"I-I know I haven't been the best to you. I've said some horrible things to and about you, I-I cheated, and all in all, I treated you like shit. I'm sorry baby, I'm so sorry. I-I want- no- I need you in my life. You're my heart, my lifeline, my everything. I don't know what I would do without you."

"I'll do better I promise! Things won't be easy, but I'm going to try... Just please don't leave me...Don't take my family away from me, don't give up on me."

Tell your man you trust him

Y/n accepted the proposal, allowing Chris to put the ring on her finger. She quickly brings him into a hug, sobbing softly. "I'll do better, I promise. You just have to trust me Ma. I'll give you the whole world if you just trust me."

"I trust you"

Tell your girl you love her

"I love you so much Ma, I love you so much." He whispers as he rubs her back.

Tell your dad you miss him

"Daddy you're back!" Lani shouts as she runs up and hugs his leg. Chris sniffles and picks her up, wrapping one arm around her and the other around Y/n.

"I missed you so much!"

And call your mom and thank her

Y/n walks away from the father and daughter duo, calling her mother to thank her for being a good guide and letting her and Lani stay with her for the month.

Tell your daughter you love her

"I love you so much Lani, with my whole life." Chris expresses as he holds her close, grateful to have the child back in his arms.

Tell yourself you got this

It's unknown to both adults that their minds are reeling as they drive home, both of them giving themselves a mental pep talk.

"You got this, it will be different this time. everything will be better."

'Cause these times get hard, but nothing's easy

They come to a red light and Chris looks over to Y/n who is staring down at her engagement ring.

"I love you," he expresses as he takes hold of her hand.

"I love you too Chris."

idk how i feel about this so if yall don't like it, ion blame you 😭

TAGLIST 🍑

@bernardsgf @bernardsleftbootycheek @blahbel668 @mattfrfr @gdsvhtwa @sturniolo-aali @lily-loves-struniolos @kynda-avery @causeidontlikeagoldrush

@st7rnioioss @carolinalikesthings @mattslolita @suyqa @xxloveralways14 @pepsiimaxx @judespoision

@ivonchetooo1239 @imaslut4kehlani @that-general-simp @m4stermindd @itzdarling @gigisworldsstuff @adoreindie @braindead4l @pettydollie @chrissgirlsstuff @alexis007 @ratatioulle @yamamasjumpercables @luv4kozume @sturnioloslurps @kqyslyho3 @j3tblackt3ars @ilovestarz @lustfulslxt @soimightlikeoldmen69 @tastesousweet @slut4sebastiansallow @whicked-hazlatwhore @stasiesturn @loljackwasfat @nicksmainbitch @ninacutebee16 @mayhem-72 @sturniolosmind @breeloveschris @mattslolita @mattsivy @guccifrog @hysteria-things @mrssturnioloo @koris_009 @patscorner @mayhem-72 @worldlxvlys @nickuniversity @luverboychris @thenickgirl @riasturns @imwetforyourmom @junnniiieee07 @realuvrrr @milasturniolo @fwskullz @hearts4tatemcrae @mattandchrismakemewett @chrissystur @canthelpit0 @strnilo @demistyles @junovrsmp4 @heartsforchrisandmatt @maryx2xx @vecnasnose0 @freshsturns @xxsturnxx @pettydollie @crimsoncorpse @sturnssmuts @sturniolovoid @m0r94n

[midnightorchids]

I am kinda curious

What would Jason be like if the coffee Cafe owner!reader built in a small library in her Cafe just for him,like she saw he liked reading and went like 'yup. I am building a small library for him'

This is such a fun idea, but omg please forgive me, I went a little overboard. Once I figured out what to write, I couldn’t stop. I apologize for how long it is. Also, this is completely gender neutral, so anyone can read!

But omg also, I was literally kicking my feet and giggling writing the end lol, Anyways enjoy!

Owning a cafe was a difficult job, there was always much to do— customers to attend to, drinks to make, and maintenance to do. You were always busy, but you loved your job.

You had spent a lot of time curating the perfect atmosphere for your beloved customers. The lighting was warm, with fairy lights and lanterns dangling from the ceiling. There was wooden furniture and two old couches that sat by the glass windows. The tiny space smelled of freshly brewed coffee and sweet bread. The cafe was always inviting. 

You had many regulars at the coffee shop, each one with their own story, a different purpose.

For the past six months, twice a week, every Thursday and Saturday morning, a tall man walked in. Jason, you recalled his name from the many times you prepared his drinks. He’d order the same thing every time, a small London fog and a walnut banana bread.

He’d sit at the table nearest to the entrance, his back never towards the door.

Every morning, he’d come in with a new book. You had seen him read Franz Kafka, Oscar Wilde and Jane Austen; he’d read a lot of Austen.

He was a mystery and you wanted to know more. 

You found Jason quite handsome. His skin was scattered with scars and you often found yourself staring at the permanent wound near his lips. You wanted to run your fingers along it, to trace it, to kiss it. 

His eyes were always kind, a deep shade of green, forest-like you’d think to yourself. 

He spoke with kindness. His voice velvety and rich, much like the espresso you’d brew everyday, except his voice was never bitter, almost always doused with honey. 

Sometimes you’d catch him looking over at the counter, at you, you’d hoped. 

Your coworkers were afraid of him, telling you to stay away, but you couldn’t help yourself. He was like an enticing book, waiting to be read. They’d warn you, “do not engage in too much conversation with the strange man.” But it was as if they were talking to a small child, their words would go in one ear and out the other.

“Strange,” you would never use that word to describe him.

From the small talk you had with him, to his choice in books, to even his taste in tea, you’d never describe him as strange.

Gentle was the word you’d choose.

He was huge, all height and muscle, terrifying to most, however to you, he was everything but that. You saw an angel and you didn’t even know him… yet, you’d tell yourself.

There were days, where you almost gained the courage to ask for his number, maybe ask for small detail, perhaps get a glimpse of his life. But each attempt was futile. Why was it so hard to speak to him for more than five minutes, you’d curse your inability to speak to attractive men.

-

You were beginning to give up on your dreams of getting to know the beautiful stranger, when he walked in through door.

The conversation began as per usual.

“Morning Jason, what can I grab you today,” you asked politely. He smiled softly in return and you stare at the scar by his lip as he begins to speak.

“Uhh surprise me,” you look at him confused, he’s never done that before and he finds himself smiling harder. “Just kidding, I’ll just the take the usual please,” he says as he places his copy of Jane Eyre on the counter to take out his wallet.

“Brontë, why am I not surprised,” you reply, gazing at the book. You take the cash from his hands and your heart drops. Shades of purple and crimson coat his skin. They’re bruised, again.

“What can I say, I’m a man of taste,” he smirks. You roll your eyes and giggle.

“Now who told you that,” and he shrugs. Then there’s a lull, you don’t know what to say now. It isn’t awkward, but you find yourself starting feeling a little uneasy. God, if you only you could come up with something else to say. You shake your head slightly and begin to warm up his banana bread.

You turn around and wait for him to leave, but he doesn’t walk away to his usual table this time, instead he takes a seat next to the counter. Odd, you thought.

Jason’s gaze doesn’t leave you for a second, he watches you in admiration, you don’t quite catch on.

If you thought Jason was handsome, then he thought you belonged in a museum. You were a work of art in his eyes. The kind of beauty they wrote poetry about. Absolutely stunning.

He wanted to get to know you, speak to you, but he was afraid. If you didn’t reciprocate his feelings, then he may never be able to see you again. The trips to the cafe would no longer be necessary and he wouldn’t know what to do with himself.

However today, Jason pushes his fears aside, he feels bold. He finds his confidence and he speaks.

“Do you read much,” he asks suddenly. You place his cup of tea and bread in front of him, and nod your head.

“I do, but not what you read,” you reply and he stares into your eyes, curious. “I mostly read magazines, you know Vogue and stuff,” his smile drops a little, he’s trying really hard to not look judgemental. Cute, you think. “Kidding, I read fantasy mostly,” and his face lights up again.

“So like J.K. Rowling,” he questions.

“No, Harry Potter’s good, but I’m not really a fan of her, you know as a person. I’ve been reading a lot Neil Gaiman recently though,” you say.

“Oh fuck, yeah, she’s said some pretty crazy stuff huh,” and you nod again. “Gaiman though, I don’t think I’ve ever read his stuff before, he any good,” he asks and your eyes go wide, you’re excited.

You spend the next hour of his visit speaking to him about books, about the things that you both like.

You only part from the conversation when there was a customer.

You’ve never felt this way before, all the assumptions you made about him were true. He was an angel, a kind and gentle one.

-

A month goes by and you notice your relationship with Jason change. Now, instead of sitting by the entrance of the cafe, he sits near you, back against the door. A sign of trust, you assumed. He smiled more, he showed his teeth and he laughed, hard. You loved the sound of his laugh. His eyes looked brighter, greener, emerald-like. He still walked in with a new book, but when the conversation began, it was long forgotten.

You watched his bruises heal and you watched new ones appear, you were always curious, but never had the courage to ask. He’d tell you when he was ready.

As time went by, you found yourself wanting to do something for him, you wanted him to know that you cared. You thought that if your words were going to fail you, then maybe your actions would prove otherwise.

-

Working a closing shift at the cafe on a gloomy Tuesday evening, you find yourself thinking of different gestures you could do.

Ideas came and left, nothing felt good enough. He deserved the best. Trying to busy your mind elsewhere, you begin to sweep the floors and that’s when inspiration hits you.

There, in the coffee shop, lies an empty corner. An odd spot, not necessarily small, but also not large enough either.

A perfect fit for a decently sized bookshelf. A library, for the community, but most importantly for Jason. You smile to yourself, proud at the thought. He’d love this, you knew he would.

The next morning you find yourself drilling holes into the pale walls of the cafe, trying attach the large shelf you lugged down to the shop.

Once everything was fixed into its rightful place, you begin adding the books, by genre and then by the authors’ last names. You add many of Jason’s favourites, multiple copies of Austen. You add children’s books, comics and something for yourself.

The shelf fits right into the ambiance of the cafe, elevating it honestly. The corner looked cosy and you found yourself wanting to sit by one of the couches with a book and a cup of hot chocolate.

You stare at the shelf once more, proud. Now, you just had to wait.

-

Jason walks into the cafe the next day, he’s late. He arrives near closing time. It’s just you and him in the cafe, most of your staff left for the day and not many people stayed this late. It’s quiet, the only sound coming from the machines on your side of the counter. He’s holding another book in his hand, but he has no intention of reading tonight.

His hair is slicked back, and there’s a small cut on his forehead. He’s dressed in a white dress shirt and black pants. He looks like he’s coming back from a big event or maybe he’s going to one later. Either way, he looks pretty like this, his arms look more defined and you can make out the muscles on his back when he walks around the room, waiting for his drink.

His eyes wander around the cafe before settling on the bookshelf nestled in the odd corner. His eyes soften, he’s never noticed that before, it must be new, he thinks.

“When’d you get this,” he asks, his fingers running along the spines of the books. He’s smiling, there’s so many books.

“Yesterday, it’s for you,” you say, holding your breath. This is it, the moment you’ve been preparing for.

“For me,” he looks over at you as you settle his tea on the counter. You begin walking over to his side, slowly, riddled with nerves.

“Yes, since you’re always here, I thought you’d like having a book shelf here. It’s like a library, you take a book and then you-“ he cuts you off suddenly.

“You made a library for me in your cafe, are you serious,” he’s trying to hold back a smile, you can tell. His scar gets more prominent when he does that. “Why,” he as asks, his voice is soft, it feels like warm milk with honey, comforting.

“You’re gonna make me say it,” you can’t see your face, but it feels hot, you can tell you’re blushing.

“Yeah, say it. Why is there a library in your cafe for me,” he says, enunciating the words “your” and “for me.” He’s smirking now. He knows the answer, he just wants to hear it from you.

The point of the library was to not have to say anything, for your actions to speak for you, but here you are. Ears burning and palms clammy.

“I…,” you trail off, you look around the room, anywhere but his face. He notices and walks closer, his hands gently make their way around your waist.

“Say it,” he exclaims, it’s not forceful, he’s smiling and shades of pink dust his cheeks.

You close your eyes shut, fuck, you’re going to have to say it.

“I really like you jas-,” and with that, his lips find their way to your own. You move in harmony, much like matcha and oat milk. His lips are sweet, he tastes like the banana bread, he decided to eat while pacing around the cafe. Your hands find their way to his shoulders, you pull back and smile. You peck his lips. Once where the scar is and once more on the centre. He grins.

“You don’t know how long I’ve waited to hear that from you,” he mumbles against your lips, waiting for you to kiss him again.

And you do, you kiss him again and again.

[kneelingshadowsalome]

Idk if you remember but you wrote a small drabble where reader was konigs secret admirer and it's been eating at my brain ever since😭 would you ever consider making it an actual story?

Oh I fell in love with the concept too! Here's a part 2 to that little drabble, I humbly offer it to you with my fluffy little paws ^^

CW: 18+ smut, fluff. Nothing bad here, just sweetness. Ok maybe a tiny bit of biting and light angst because it’s König after all... (Part 1 here)

He still doesn’t know who the mystery girl is.

She likes to tease him with cute messages and a photo of her tits but won’t tell him her name or where she lives. The girl won’t come to meet him so that he can show her some love, nor will she agree to go on a date with him. She just responds to his pathetic suggestions with a bundle of emojis that are about to drive him crazy, and another message that says: “Soon!” 

König has to fall back on the bed and go to sleep with a rock hard dick and a set of twitching, lonely hands. His dream of having a proper girlfriend was shoved on the back burner ever since he joined the Jagdkommando, but now there’s a certain girl inside his head, a new, even better dream he can’t repel. The next day is no better; he even forgets what he was supposed to bring home from the store, knowing his mom will only sigh and tell him they’ll survive without some ingredient they both know is very well essential.

He stands before the butters and spreads, trying to recall what his mother wanted when he hears a soft gasp further down the aisle. He turns his head and barely catches the sight of a woman, turning in her heels and rushing down the flour section, just somewhere out of sight.

Hope and curiosity spark inside him as he leaves the butter and darts after her, calling “Hey” and “Wait” between the shelves as she flits towards the cashier in mild terror. He chases her as if he were trying to catch a thief, and the girl picks up her pace, then slows down to a complete halt… and turns.

Lovely, fearful eyes behold him the immediate second she meets his gaze, immobile hands clutching a bag of croissants and a jar of chocolate butter against her chest.

He slows down his jog and arrives in front of her with a smile, but the girl only looks more and more afraid. Even her jaw is clenched shut, the spitting image of a prey who just got caught.

“You’re her, aren’t you? The mystery girl,” he asks, trying to make it clear as day just how excited he is to finally meet her in person.

Her eyes stay wide as she blinks, the little bag of croissants crunching a bit further in her grip as she tries to shield her vital parts.

“Are you done shopping…?”

Still no answer.

She’s shy, just like he is... Maybe even more so, which is incredibly endearing: the same girl who sent him a picture of her boobs last night, the same girl who had no trouble teasing him to the point of leaking cum all over his sheets is as shy as a deer when caught in daylight. 

It’s so incredibly cute… He thought she was a seductress of the most dangerous kind, but here she is now, looking up at him as if he was some boogieman about to come and snatch her away.

His smile only widens as he looks at his little minx who just tried to run away from the individual she’s sent postcards and love letters to ever since they were kids… Who knew his secret admirer was a bashful little cutie who sneaks around the local store to get herself some sweets and snacks?

“Let me pay for those,” he gestures at the products in her hand. 

Another awkward silence follows until she finally turns her eyes to the floor and nods.

Perhaps it’s not that odd that she sent him anonymous notes and talked to him in texts and letters if she’s this timid -- he of all people should know how tough it is to walk to someone he likes and tell them he wants to go out. But he can’t help but wonder if the girl is mute, or partly deaf, or both. He wouldn’t mind. As long as they understand each other, it’s perfectly fine. 

She looks at him like he’s a god —or a monster—while he pays for her humble delicacies. She stares at him with eyes still wide while putting the groceries inside a tiny cotton bag she has with her, and says nothing when he extends his hand towards her. 

“Here. Give it to me.”

He’s trying to act the part of a gentleman to the full, and she offers the floor a tiny smile while handing him the bag. It weighs less than a half kilo, but the gesture is all that seems to matter because she is indeed smiling, shy and pleased as he shoulders the so called burden for her.

“I can walk you home if you like?” he suggests while pushing the door open for her. 

She steps out into the luminous sunlight, eyes squinting a little from the sudden brightness. Then she turns to him and says her first meek words.

“But... Then you’ll know where I live…”

“Ah! She talks,” he laughs with a full smile and watches with a spreading warmth in his chest how she starts to grin, too. She’s looking at the asphalt and her shoes but she’s smiling, incredibly beautiful and pretty, outshining even the prettiest summer day.

“Don’t worry,” he starts to banter with increasing confidence—when has he ever teased anyone, let alone been confident around a girl he likes? “I promise I won’t come howling under your window at night...”

“It’s… It’s not that,” she laughs and bites her bottom lip. “I still live with my mom…”

She starts to walk towards where he lives, and he follows, his long legs catching up with her with ease. 

“There was the COVID, and my mom is a little unwell… And with the economy… I’m still a student,” she explains while they stroll down the street.

“Really? I’m a student, too.”

“Oh…? What are you studying?”

“How to kill people,” he shrugs, cursing his stupid carefree mouth immediately. “Fuck… Sorry. That was… I mean, I’m in the army.”

“It’s okay,” she smiles.

He sneaks a peek her way, and she indeed doesn’t seem to be shocked in the slightest. Far more frightened she looked at the store when he noticed her and began to chase the poor girl. 

They proceed to talk about what he does and why, how he only just returned from a month’s training that included concealment training in the mountains. She seems interested enough in his choice of career, which he tries to make sound as striking as possible, far more intriguing than it actually is. He tries to appear a little too glorious in her eyes, fearing he won’t live up to the reputation and fantasy she has built inside her pretty little head.

What if she wanted him to be a doctor instead of a moronic soldier? Maybe she fantasized about a lawyer or a historian with whom she could have fascinating conversations… And he’s just babbling nonsense about weather meters and ghillie suits.

But her eyes are still smiling, always at him when he looks away and starts to talk with his hands. When they arrive at the little wicket gate leading up to her house, he notices she lives only about a kilometre away from his childhood home. 

She was always here, and he never knew anything about it… His secret admirer, his passionate seducer, turns out to be a harmless, lovely angel who lives right in the neighbourhood.

She takes her little cotton bag and turns to open the gate, and his hands twitch and flex. Say something clever, his mind yells, ask her out for fuck’s sake… But he needn’t worry, for his precious girl next door immediately turns back and shields her eyes from the sun while looking up at him.

“I’m sorry… I froze a little at the store. I just… This wasn’t how we were supposed to meet...”

“No? What did you have in mind for us then?”

She drops her hand back down and gives him a little halfway shrug, embarrassed.

“I don’t know. I just… I don’t even have any make-up on...”

He risks to bring a hand to her face, his thumb on her cheekbone, sweeps a little arc there to let her know she’s fucking beautiful.

“You’re very pretty,” he says, and she raises her eyes back to his, this time looking like she’s being blinded by the sun even if he’s shielding her from it.

“I really liked the picture you sent me,” he says boldly, and for the second time this afternoon, hopes the earth could swallow him right then and there. 

A pretty girl sends him one nice picture of her tits, and he has to be an asshole about it… She looks super uncomfortable, so flustered that she nearly guides her face away from his palm. 

Fuck that he’s stupid… Must he always be such an idiot and fuck everything up?

“I’m sorry... I meant to say that–”

“I’m glad you liked it,” she rises on her toes and plants a quick, flustered peck on his cheek, then turns to the gate as quickly as a whirlwind. Opens it, and returns solely to give him a bashful, naughty little smile. 

“I liked your picture too,” she says so softly he can barely hear it. 

“...Oh,” he squeaks, cheek still burning from her kiss.

“Do you want to come and see me tonight...? Mom usually drops before ten...”

“I… I… Sure.”

…

It’s a catastrophe.

His old jeans barely fit him anymore, they’ve become way too tight around the thighs. He’s put on some weight during the past few years and made sure to go to the gym every slack hour he has at his disposal, which means he’s packed a bit of muscle here and there. That, along with the many outdoor trainings, have ensured his appetite remains even bigger than usual so it’s no wonder none of his old pants fit. The only ones that don’t look utterly suggestive and wrong are his grey sweatpants, which he wore to the store today. He can’t very well wear those on a date, no matter what all those thirsty TikTok memes say...

He sighs, and grabs the black military pants he had on when he came here, pairing them with a simple black T-shirt. That’s all he has in his drawers: black, black, black, a few white ones that have some food and coffee stains on them, stains that never leave no matter how hard his mom tries to wash them for him.

The house is silent as he slips the keys into his pocket and hollers that he’s leaving. Like some lovesick, unneutered dog about to slink into the night…

“Mom? I’m going out. I… I have a date.”

“At this hour...?”

“Yeah… We’re… Going out to look at the moon,” he makes up off the top of his head.

His mom would scold him for harassing some poor girl when it’s almost midnight, even if it was her who invited him to her house. And if he’s lucky, there’s going to be a lot more action than just staring at the moon together… Not that that’s all he wants; it’s just that he’s been lonely as fuck and could really use a hug. 

Is it a crime, with the past that he has, to want some human contact? Some skin on skin memories that don’t include punching?

“My little boy,” his mom strolls into the room, looking at him with soft, worried eyes. “You look like you’re about to invade some poor, innocent country…”

“Eh… I know. All the other pants were too small.’

She smiles at him: seeing a grown man sweat like a pig before a date must be a silly sight, even more compelling when that man is your own boy. The clock ticks on the wall as she looks at him like he’s about to march off to war, his only shoes a pair of standard leather boots he’s used for two years now. He showed them some grease and a brush, managed to make them look a little less worn and torn – if he had known some cute girl back home had a crush on him, he would’ve visited a clothing store before he came here…

His mom raises a shaky hand and draws him down to kiss him on the cheek, her eyes glossy and hazed from the gathering tears. 

“I’m glad you’re finally eating enough,” she whispers with a voice that barely holds intact, and they both know why it’s shaking, why everything’s trembling; her hands, her voice and her tears.

His bottom lip is twitching too from witnessing his mom being so happy for his sake. But he doesn’t want to cry. He must stay oblivious and strong and pretend that things are finally how they should’ve been: normal and easy and wholesome and good. For her, he will never show that he’s shaking… Too many things in her life have done that when she needed them to stay stable and safe.

“Wish me luck,” he gives her a nervous smile, laughing the tears away.

“I always do…”

He leaves before his tower crumbles, slips out into the sweet, scented night.

There’s roses somewhere, roses that smell heavenly, some early jasmine too that wishes to intoxicate his mind. He realizes he has nothing with him to take as a gift for her, and cusses again. This is a fucking date, and he’s not even dressed properly; he doesn’t even have flowers to bring with him… She’s going to think he’s a nobody, some penniless freak who dresses like a crazy person when he’s supposed to dazzle her and make her swoon.

On his way to her place, he stops to cut a small branch from a flowering rowan tree and shelters it from the gusts of wind that blow from the river. The tiny flowers are delicate and fragrant, not exactly what he would’ve taken to her had he been clever enough to visit a florist before they all closed. But it’s cute enough, to him at least, especially when it’s cut from the tree that was his safe haven as a boy.

The curtains at her window shift when he arrives at the gate, and he knows she’s been expecting him, waiting for the clock to strike ten as eagerly as he.

The front door opens, and there she is: dressed far more accordingly than he; his lady has slipped into a sweet summer dress like the angel that she is. It’s bright and yellow, far from the darkness he always wears, and his heart is slowly squeezing to bits inside his chest.

“Hey,” she gives him a wide, knee-buckling smile.

“Hey,” he smiles back, marching to her door like a horny, ugly wolf. “You want to go for a walk? It’s a beautiful ni–”

The moment he arrives at her feet, the moment she sees that he’s carrying a tiny branch from the rowan tree for her, she snatches the front of his shirt and pulls him inside with a surprising amount of strength.

His forehead hits the doorframe with a thick thud before he manages to bow, and there’s a bit of a commotion after that. He huffs something akin to Oof and laughs, making the angel flit around him in a wild, flustered shame, apologizing to him at least ten times.

“Oh my god, I’m sorry! I’m sorry… I’m sorry, I’m sorry….”

“Heh. It’s okay,” he smiles while rubbing the achy spot on his head. He’s forced to sit into an old wicker chair, wide enough to accommodate his back but far too low to hold his stature. He sinks inside it like a veritable giant while she continues to fuss around him, inspecting his “wound” and taking the offering from him with a helpless, embarrassed stare.

“I’ll get you some ice,” she says before leaving him in his chair, the flower he brought softly placed on the bed. 

He’s afraid the furniture will break if he moves, so he stays as still as possible while taking in his surroundings, the soft girl adobe he has somehow managed to sneak his sorry rotten arse into. 

She has a large TV in front of her bed, a gaming console and a lot of books, candles everywhere he steals a look. The beige bedding looks freshly changed and incredibly soft, and there’s an old bunny toy on her bedstand along with another book, both loved to bits. Some houseplants on the floor appear to be doing extremely well, a small leather bag and some makeup left scattered on her desk. Rocks and twigs and dried flowers rest on her window sill, treasures she’s gathered from her trails. It makes his heart grow soft because he knows she will probably put his little offering there too. A bouquet of expensive, luxurious flowers wouldn’t have hit their target at all.

She returns with a small pack of ice and rushes to him in her flowy, blooming summer dress. Descends on her knees and brings a small towel to his forehead before pressing the ice over it, ensuring that it’s not too cold to make him uncomfortable. 

As if he could ever feel uncomfortable, seated in a wicker chair with an angel between his legs, treating his supposed wound with ice and the softest touch…

“Remember all those postcards you sent me?” he asks while she continues to look like the worst person who ever lived, simply because she was too eager to pull him inside her room.

“Sadly, yes.”

“Remember what you wrote to me?”

“Not really,” she says, dabbing the ice pack all over the rising bump on his head. “Something stupid, I suppose…”

“You told me that you love me.”

Her eyes dart to his for a while, hope and shame battling in her fae stare.

“...Oh God.”

“Many times. And then you told me that I’m cute…”

She sighs and brings the ice and the cloth somewhere in her lap. The breasts inside their soft little cell look astoundingly delicious when viewed from up here: he’s slouching in a chair and still, is able to take a rude little peek inside her dress. He slaps himself mentally for being such a goddamn pervert, but then she sighs again, the cute little peaches swelling inside her dress once more.

“That’s it?” 

“That’s mostly it, yes…”

He’s getting hard here, which is a problem. A big, big problem…

His shy admirer never notices anything, not even when he softly gestures for her to give the ice to him. He continues to press it on his forehead, trying to concentrate on the cold sensation rather than the swelling dick in his pants. 

How is he supposed to not grow hard when he knows this adorable little creature has been infatuated with him for so long? When he knows she’s flustered now, just from hearing him tease her about those silly, harmless cards?

“I kept every single one,” he tells her, only to watch how the shy girl grows even shyer.

“You didn’t…”

“I did.”

He tells her about the bullies and how they made it look like they had sent the cards, telling him no girl could ever want to be with him. It’s a sad attempt to fish for her affection and pity, words of contempt and judgement to hammer it home that he did receive those cards from this girl, he did, in fact, deserve to be loved and adored.

And then she starts to talk about how she watched him... How she went to a different school than him, but that she sometimes strolled behind him when he walked home. They shared the journey to and from school, and he was always completely unaware that he was being followed.

“You stared at this rowan tree for what seemed like hours,” she recalls with a sad smile. “Then, if a bee caught your eye, or a bird or some flower, you stopped to ogle at those instead…”

He laughs, but there’s a bittersweet stone in his chest. If he remembers correctly, these were the only times of the day he could drop his eternal guard: in school, he was being tormented by cruel kids and at home there lived a tyrant with his sad little subjects. Trees and bees and birds were a welcome distraction.

She smiles a little, but it’s not a happy smile, even if it is affectionate.

“My mom always told me to come straight back home,” she says. “But you were never in a hurry...”

He looks at her, and she looks back, some pity in her eyes. There arrives a sweet and sour pain in his heart, a feeling that comes from knowing there was someone who witnessed a glimpse of the hope and pain he lived in. That there was someone there all along… 

“You even stopped to look at dog poo…”

“Heh... Was that the moment you fell for me?”

Her lip twitches, the pity in her stare breaks. She rises a little to lean forward, and he catches her with ease as she falls there into his arms, snug into his lap. His lips find hers without effort, and sensation bleeds: his hands are sweaty and shaking as he runs them down along her dress, cups her ass so that she gives a little gasp straight into his mouth. 

That’s the thing he was pining for: for her to open that pretty little mouth so that he could pry it further open with his own. Plunge an exploring tongue inside, not too quick and not too greedy, just a little poke to see if she wants to be claimed.

The angel melts in his lap, like pure white snow, until he braces his core and rises to his feet. It’s now or never, and he’s not going to let this moment slip past his fingers. Somehow, they end up on the bed, the smell of fresh linens and her dainty perfume catching his nose before she presses a pair of weak hands on his chest.

“The flower...”

The flower... Of course. 

The flower from the rowan tree.

He huffs a laugh on her face, a relieved smile as he understands she’s only worried about trampling his gift.

It’s set aside on the table, but right after that, he attacks her again, begins the ascension to heaven. His lips won’t get enough of her, not even as he drinks her like honeydew and ambrosia: the dress he used to associate with seraphs and summer now seems like a huge obstacle between his tongue and her skin, the need to taste more of her urgent in his hips.

“Can I take this off?” He roughs a hand down the fabric that shields her breasts, relishing the tiny moan that follows when he does that. “I want to kiss you everywhere…”

Her throat makes a wet, charming sound as she swallows, her eyes now pools of dark, drunken love. 

“On one condition,” she tells him, out of breath. “If I can kiss you everywhere too?”

It’s a deal, his mind exclaims immediately, but his devilish grin is how he tells her he’s more than eager to accept these terms. His clothes find their way on the floor along with hers, black on black on yellow, but he won’t let her shiver in the cold for long. Like a man possessed, his body finds hers, her soft, naked skin colliding with his like heaven after all those lonely nights of slick, urgent fapping. 

He’s not sure who’s worshipping who here, but he vows to never again let this angel fly under his radar, no matter how perfect of a guardian she has been. A guardian angel, following him with her blessed stare, sending him heavenly messages that were real and true all along. 

She should be rewarded for her abundant gifts, and so his lips find her shoulders and her neck; they graze her nipples and claim her breasts in devouring that leaves her back arching on the bed.

“You don’t have a girl? Waiting for you back there...?” she asks shyly, even when half her tit is being sucked by his mouth.

“The only thing waiting for me back there is my hand,” he rasps while diving down, down, down, all the way past her navel and the mound she still tries to protect from plunder.

“...I can be your girl,” she whispers somewhere high above, her hands holding his head like that of an untamed dog. “If you want…?”

He breathes on the apex between her thighs, presses a furious kiss there without care. 

“F-fuck…” she sighs those thighs open, and from that point on, nothing is enough.

It’s horrible that it must be so: that he finally gets to drink his fill, and it’s still not enough. Her sighs are not enough, her trembling body is not enough. Her attempts to muffle her moans with the back of her hand are not nearly enough.

He wants more, so much more: he wants to try all there is to this with her, forever and ever until the day he dies. He wants to hear her soil her tongue with more curses as he ruins her, bit by bit, just a little bit…

“Say it,” he pants into her glistening lips, “Say that you’re my girl…”

When she does nothing but whimpers in return, he attacks her with both teeth and tongue. Bruises the thigh beside her treasure before plunging straight towards the main prize with reckless want. That’s what finally forces the words out of her mouth: his tongue inside her cunt, delving so deep he has to breathe through his nose to keep from fainting.

“I’m your girl,” she moans on the bed, a bit louder now. “I’m yours, I promise… I always… Always…”

I always was….

She doesn’t say it. She doesn’t need to. 

He grants her mercy after that, replacing the tongue with a finger or two. Slow wide circles over her clit accompanied by quick little pumps in her hole make her cum in no time, and he’s glad he listened to the dirty mess talk of his filthy comrades. Patience is not his virtue, but for her, he makes all the effort.... He for sure leaves a little memory on her thigh. It’s not very nice of him, and he fears those teeth marks might stay with her longer than just a few weeks. 

Maybe she’ll forgive him if he fucks her after this, rocks her slowly and softly, fucks her like angels ought to be fucked. But no, fucking is not the right word... He wants to make love to her. Drink her moans right from her lips while he does it.

After the climax, he’s still hard and she’s still panting.

He wonders if he’ll get slapped or kissed if he asks for permission to put it inside now... His dick is throbbing while they stare at the ceiling together, but as always, his angel is two steps ahead.

“My turn,” she says with newfound vigour, and he gets more than he bargained for: everything and more as she gives his body the same attention he just gave her. Bites his nipples a little too hard, the little minx, licks his ribs as if it’s some kind of a contest to try and make him tickle. Laughs angel trails across his skin, draws a finger down his nether hair until she meets his jutting dick.

She gives him a tame little lick at first, then slowly, expeditiously, kisses his cock from root to tip. Before due time, his thighs start to tremble, and that’s when she takes it in her mouth: sucks and licks him deep until his abs and balls pull tight. The sheet in his fist threatens to get torn to shreds when he cums, and for a moment, he forgets everything, even his name, until he notices that the poor little thing can’t swallow all his load. She almost chokes on the first spurt, withdraws to cough with her mouth closed while he hisses fat curses past clenched teeth. 

When he arrives back to Earth, there’s cum everywhere: on her face, on the sheets, all over his abdomen and his thighs, an eruption that spilled everywhere because his angel got a little appalled.

“I’m sorry,” she peeps with her mouth still full of it.

The poor girl swallows it bravely, and his heart is about to explode: his angel swallows his filthy load like a champ and looks so incredibly valiant while doing it.

“Hey,” he raises a shaking hand towards her, too weak to rise from the bed to comfort her. “It’s okay… You didn’t need to do that…”

“But I wanted to,” she complains while the thick, sticky cum drips down her cheek and onto her breasts.

“Shit… Come here,” he coaxes, and she crawls forward to nestle in the nook of his arm. 

He uses the sheet to dry the rest of it off her face. She looks up at him with that trademark seraph stare, so helpless and in love—if this is what having a girlfriend is like, then he doesn’t feel bad at all that he had to wait a little longer than most men. It was worth all the trouble and toil that he has her here now, in his arms, batting her lashes sweetly. 

“You’re still incredibly cute, you know...?” she whispers, and a mountain inside him moves. 

It’s not sorrow, nor is it yearning; it’s just sweet, simple love. The room smells of salt and sin, but there’s nothing sinful about her when she cups his chin. He knows it’s not elegant to tell someone you love them on the day you've met them, but if the one you love happens to be an angel, then isn't it a sin not to confess?

[jaegerrb0mb]

Miss all American </3

Note: this is part two of my hot garbage fic

even if it hurts <3 and this one is just as bad and I also didn’t read over it as well.. 😐

Summary: Visiting her favorite cafe in japan reader runs into her ex bf

Warnings: jokes of being engaged, talks of marriage/having a baby, my horrible grammar, and somewhat fluff?

Pairing: ProHero! katsuki bakugou x ProHero! Fem Reader

"Hello, H/N, what can I get for you?" The cashier asks with an admiring expression, yet he is trying to play it cool that a top-ranking hero from the US is standing right in front of him. "Can I get a (your coffee or tea order) and one of those pumpkin muffins, please?" You point at the little dessert window and give the cashier a bright smile. "Yes, of course, Miss H/N," he says, moving quickly to make your order.

It’s been awhile since you were in Japan; in fact, you haven’t been here since graduation. You moved to the US quickly after finishing school when you heard there were more villains and not a lot of heroes out there, and you wanted to help in the most possible way, so you went abroad. You're out here visiting; it’s the first time you’ve been back to Japan in 5 years. You’ve been considering moving back, seeing as much as you missed it. Especially the cafe you’re in right now,

Taking a look around, it hasn’t changed one bit and still looks like it did when you were a teenager. Memories quickly flood your mind.

and you can’t help the bittersweet pain of nostalgia that burns through your chest.

"Here ya go!" The cashier hands you your order with a huge grin that pulls you out of your short thoughts. "Oh, thank you. How much will this be?" tilting your head to the side when he gives you a funny look. "Didn’t you hear me earlier? I said it was on the house." He laughs a bit at your confused expression. "Erm.. why?"

He leans over the counter a bit. "My family is from America; my mom told me a story about how you saved her life, so take it as my way of saying thank you." You smile softly at his words when he finishes. 'That explains why he recognizes me; I didn’t think anyone in Japan knew of me.

 

"Well, t-

 

"Heeey dynamight! Would you like your usual?" The cashier completely ignores you, focusing his attention fully on the male behind you. 'Dyna, wait, katsuki?' Quickly turning on your heels to face the man, it is in fact him and even more handsome than you remembered from your high school days. He’s wearing his hero uniform without the gauntlets, but it definitely has a lot of new upgrades. He's got a few scars on his arms and neck, some look old and some look more fresh; his hair is no longer the uneven choppy locks you used to love running your hands through; it's now an undercut, but the spikes still remain at the top; he always had a large, broad, and strong body, but now he looks more toned; his muscles are more defined, making him look in better shape than ever; he's a lot taller; and his eyes don’t hold as much hostility as before. He looks mature now. And a lot hotter if that were even possible.

"what’s the matter? never saw the No. 2 up close?" He taunts at you, but he gets no response except your dumbfounded expression. He steps a bit closer taking you in, his own eyes widen before turning to a more softer gaze, "l/n? Ain’t you some american hero now?" his voice is smooth as honey and It takes a second for you to gather your stunned self to try forming words "I am, I’m just visiting." he hums in response. "If you have time, I’d love to chat and catch up with you, Mr. No. 2," you joked before grabbing your stuff and making your way to a nearby table to sit so that you don’t hold up a line by the front.

Sipping from your drink and scrolling through social media on your phone, not really paying attention as you keep glancing up watching katsuki pay for his order until he finally makes his way over to you, now sitting across from you.

"So, what’s it like in America?" He asked, taking a sip of his own coffee and leaning over the table a bit. "It’s nice; I like it a lot, but I was actually thinking about- 

"Do you have a boyfriend?" He catches you off guard almost making you slice your finger as you were about to cut your pumpkin muffin. "Oh, straight to the point huh?" you laugh to play it cool, but your heart has been hammering in your chest since you laid eyes on him. "Just answ-

"no, I don’t.. I haven’t dated anyone cause I’ve been focusing on my hero work and it’s quite hard to find the time for it, you know? How bout you?" Sliding half of a muffin over to him. and taking a bite out of your half. something you always did as teenagers when the two of you came to this cafe in the middle of fall was split a pumpkin muffin. they were always out of them and you could never get your hands on them. and since you got the last one you decided to offer him half. it wasn’t anything special but you hoped it sparked the same nostalgia you’ve been feeling all day onto him. and you know it did when you catch the corners of his mouth quirk up into a small smile.

"I’m engaged."

His sentence throws you into a coughing fit as you look up to see him untuck a chain under his hero uniform from around his neck that holds a sliver ring, but he’s quick to tuck it back before you can even examine it.

he leans back crossing his arms over his chest with a smirk as he watches your coughing die down.  

"Oh, I-wow, congratulations, bakugou." Your smile is forced as you blink back tears from coughing and from pain before leaning down to take another sip of your drink, and he can tell your smile was fake as he begins to laugh. "No need to get jealous now; I’m messing with you." He untucks it again to show it to you.

It’s the promise ring you gave to him when you were 16.

You feel relieved, but your eyes still widen. "You kept it all this time? Why do you still wear it?" You quirk an eyebrow while watching as he takes a bite of his muffin and wait for him to answer.

"I guess to mess around with idiots like you." He finishes his coffee before he continues. "Well, to be honest, I never really could’ve found the heart to throw it, and it’s the only thing I've had from you since you left. Why didn’t you tell me you were leaving? You didn’t tell anyone, and you never called either. I had to find out from damn endeavor out of all people." He toys with the ring around his neck as you frown. "I couldn’t find the heart to say goodbye to you or our classmates. I felt like a jerk, but I knew it was for the better, at least at the time. I don’t know, Kats-Bakugou."

"You don’t have to correct yourself; you can call me by my first name, Miss American." He jokes, trying to make the conversation lighthearted while tucking the ring back once again. "What is your rank there anyway?"

"I’m the No. 2 hero, like you." You stick your tongue out at him before finishing the remains of your muffin. "Wow, with a brain like yours, I figured you’d be at least in the 50s," he smirked, making you lean over the table and hit him lightly. "You’re so mean, Katsuki," you pout playfully. "It’s called honesty, y/n." He laughs when you roll your eyes and slouch back in your chair. "You know you’re lucky you’re handsome, or I’d really be offended right now." You sip your drink. "Oh really? You think I’m handsome?" He rests his arms on the table, leaning forward. you smirk, coping his actions. "Yeah, but it’s too bad you’re engaged." You throw his joke back at him.

"Haha, so funny."

"You’re the one that said it, not me."

"Forget about that. Wanna come back to my place?"

"You shouldn’t cheat on your fiancé."

You smile playfully as he shakes his head, leaning in a bit more.

"The only woman I’d ever be engaged to is sitting right in front of me, but it’s too bad she decided to leave the day after graduation. not even caring to give me a phone call." he playfully clicks his tongue. "Yeah, but the phone works both ways," you shrug.

"doesn’t change the fact that you ruined my plan to take you back after school." He leans back in his chair, now crossing his arms once again. you scoffed. "That’s bullshit, and we both know that."

"Me asking you to be my wife was bullshit? I had the whole thing planned for how I was going to propose, and if you didn’t go Miss all American on me, I bet we’d be married with a baby on the way. That is what you wanted when we were together, right? to have a family young?" He makes a "tch" noise, tilting his head up at the ceiling, causing you to frown. "You shouldn’t joke about that, Katsuki."

He quickly turns his attention back to you.

"I never said I was." His words are followed by silence besides the other people around chatting, but still enough to leave thick tension in the air.

"Katsuki, I-

He suddenly reaches for your drink, taking a sip from it and taking you by surprise. "Hey! I never said you could-

"And it’s still not too late for that." his voice holding a deeper rasp as he clears his throat. "Listen, y/n, I’m going to be straight forward with you because there’s no reason for me to lie. I always loved you, and I never stopped loving you. I don’t care if you live in fuckin’ Guam, Canada, or wherever; I know I can make long-distance work for however long you want it to work. Remember back then when I said I’d take you back in a heartbeat? I still stand by that. So if you still want that future you planned with me, try giving me a call; it’s the same damn number I’ve always had." He places your drink down and gets up to leave, but you catch him by his wrist. "Didn’t you ask if I wanted to go back to your place?" giving him doe eyes while your fingers danced their way up his muscles. He leans down so he’s face-to-face with you. "Gotta finish patrol; don’t worry, babe; promise, as soon as I’m off the clock, I’ll take you there." He gives you a smug smile, turning back around to leave. You call out to him once more before he makes it through the door.

"Katsuki!" He stills but doesn’t turn. "I’m here for two weeks."

"Better be ready; I’ll make it worth your while."

With that, he went.

Tags: @sofilsword @the-dumpster-fire-of-life

[marlynnofmany]

Not Special

The refueling station was on a small moon in the back end of nowhere, close to nothing but a couple of wormhole junctions. Since it had a little convenience store and everything, it really gave off “7/11 next to a desert highway” vibes. Just, y’know, in space. The moon wasn’t big enough for proper gravity or air on its own, so someone had installed a gravity generator under the dusty red ground. And turned it up just a smidge too high, but I wasn’t going to complain.

I was going to buy pre-packaged alien snacks at the store while my coworkers handed the refueling. Mimi was calling the shots, tentacles waving and gravelly voice audible from here, while the Frillian twins handled the heavy lifting of connector hoses and Captain Sunlight was at the payment kiosk. The others were either staying onboard or already browsing the aisles.

I’d just picked up a pack of something colorful (doing an artful fumble-and-recovery because of the gravity) when a rowdy group of Armorlites trooped in. I didn’t pay them too much attention — just a bunch of macho dinosaurs with holstered blasters and bipedal swagger; totally normal here — but one of them said something that brought me up short.

“Hey look, another human,” said the cheerful voice. “Maybe you can get some tips on how not to be such a disappointment.” Raucous laughter followed.

I frowned in their direction and saw that they did have a human with them: a pale and unassuming guy just a bit shorter and stockier than me. He looked annoyed by the comment, but not surprised.

When he walked over to me, I asked, “What’s that about?” The Armorlites were already ignoring him.

The guy sighed. “They heard a lot of stories about humans before they hired me, and I don’t meet their expectations.”

“What kind of stories?”

“Humans doing daring things, like running for hours to get medicine to dying people, catching a diseased rat before it infected an entire space station, throwing fruit at charging fauna hard enough to make it leave…” He ticked things off on his fingers. “Exorcizing a ghost, and riding a hoversled like a skateboard fast enough to catch a bomb before it blew up. How am I supposed to compete with that?” He threw his hands in the air.

“Um,” I said, putting down the snack I was still holding. “Would it make it better or worse to know those were all the same person?”

“What?”

“The rat wasn’t actually diseased, the ghost was a howling dog, and I didn’t know the thing was explosive when I rushed to catch it,” I said. “And I wasn’t the only person throwing things at the fauna.”

“What?” he repeated, with a spread-arms gesture that smacked into the shelf. Rubbing his hand, he asked, “That was all you?”

“Yeah,” I admitted. “Unless there are other humans doing the same things, which is possible.”

He raked fingers through his hair, setting it at odd angles. “I can’t believe this. I’d tell them, but they’d just want to hire you instead.”

I rushed to assure him, “I’ve got a job already, and I don’t want to take yours.” I glanced over at the Armorlites, who were grabbing food and accessories. One clicked a flashlight on in another’s face, prompting curses from him and laughter from the others. That tracked from what I’d seen of Armorlite culture before. Toughness was important. Kindness, not so much. “What do you do for them?”

He sighed again. “Bookkeeping, officially. They needed somebody to handle the boring stuff like money and permits while they focus on hunting the biggest animals they can sell.”

“Gotcha. That sounds … exciting.”

“It’s not. It’s like going on a trip with my cousins again, except they’re even bigger and make fun of me for not having claws.”

“You’ve got other stuff going for you, though!” I said. “We just need to figure which of your differences they’ll respect most.”

“I’m all ears,” he said with a certain level of sarcasm. “Please tell me what about my fragile human physique will get me respect from the Mighty.”

Oh right, they did call themselves that. I’d almost forgotten. At least they were a straightforward species without a lot of mysterious depths.

“Well,” I said, thinking. “They like fighting. You’re more suited to stealth than they are, small enough to hide and do sneak attacks that they wouldn’t see coming. What if you introduced them to rubber band warfare, and sniped from hidden parts of the ship?”

“Nope,” he said. “That would just end with me cornered somewhere, and them showing off how even thin scales are tougher than my skin.”

“Good point. Oh! What kind of animals do they hunt? You said big ones, but do you know the specific names?” I got out my phone and brought up the database of known fauna that I’d talked Captain Sunlight into buying for me. As her own hired animal expert, it was really the kind of thing that I should have. My vet training on Earth only went so far.

“Uhhh, I think the last one was a treehorn,” he said. “Wait, they talked about going for Argoshan Dagger Birds next.”

“Right. Now what kind of noises do those make…” I typed quickly. Big creatures indeed, by the looks of it: Dagger Birds had prevented more than one colony from getting a foothold in the wilds of a nearby world, and were unlikely to stop being a threat anytime soon. I skimmed the rundown for the vocal files. “Here we go. Mating call.” Keeping the sound low enough for just us to hear, I played the croaking warble.

“Okay?” the guy said, confused.

“Can you imitate that?” I asked. “Give it a shot. Kinda like a frog. Woarrrk.”

Looking skeptical, he did. The expression on his face said he wasn’t impressed with his own efforts, but it sounded accurate enough to me.

“Great!” I said. “Give that a bit of practice, then you can go out with your crew and impress everybody by luring in some targets for them.”

“I could,” he said thoughtfully. “I usually stay on the ship while they’re hunting, but it might be worth a try. Can I have a copy of that sound for practice?”

He got out his own phone and I played it again so he could record it. The Armorlites were dumping things onto the front counter, ready to pay and leave. I caught sight of bright packaging that I recognized, and I had another idea.

“Thanks,” the guy said. “This might actually help. What was your name?”

“Robin Bennett,” I said with a belated handshake.

“Oscar Tennyson,” he replied. “Thanks for your help. Looks like I should grab my stuff and get going.”

“Before you go. See those tall cans with the purple labels?” I pointed at something the Armorlites were buying.

“Yeah?”

“Have you ever tried that?”

“No! They get wasted on it; I’ve steered far clear.”

I grinned with all my teeth. “That’s not alcohol. That’s caffeine.”

“What?”

“Humans can process caffeine better than most species on our own planet, and just about everybody in space. It’s a poison to most. It gets them super drunk, but for you—” I pointed at him with glee. “For you, it’s just a bit of energy. Pick your moment, then walk in casually while they’re getting wasted, and slam one down. See what happens.”

He was smiling now. “You’re sure? It’s really just caffeine? How much?”

“I checked into it before. One of those huge cans is like a watered-down coffee. These guys are absolute lightweights, and they don’t even know.”

He grinned to split his face. “That is the best news.”

One of them called for him to hurry up, and he bid me a quick goodbye before scampering off. I saw him grab food cubes, water, and a six-pack of caffeine, which he bundled onto the counter as the Armorlites headed out the door.

“Be right there! Just getting some stuff!”

They didn’t look, simply telling him not to waste any time. He smiled his way through the purchase.

Peeking over the shelves, I smiled too. Then I went back to my own purchases, with thoughts of getting an energy drink or two in his honor.

~~~

These started as backstory tidbits for the main character from this book, and turned into a sprawling adventure series in their own right. The sequel book will feature a return of some familiar faces. And Patreon is coming soon — even the free tier will be a handy way to keep up with the ongoing shenanigans of this particular human in space.

[caxde]

congratulations on a milestone! 🎉

could i request this prompt;

person a comes out looking amazing, and person b is literally too stunned to speak. person b's hand is on their chest as if they're trying to catch their breath. person b so desperately wants to reach out and say something, until person a grabs person c's hand. 

with person a as reader and the others as eddie and steve, whoever way round you like 🖤

thank you for the lovely request anon, hope this is everything you wanted! i might do a part2 cus honestly I had so much fun writing it <33

steve x reader x eddie 2.9k | lovingsomeone

“So, will you actually say something to her this time?” Robin teased Eddie for the hundredth time. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He snapped back, shaking his head as he overly enunciated every word, trying desperately to not blush at the thought of you. 

“Sure you don’t.” She breathed out, pushing her head back. 

Robin had always been preceptive, even more so when it came to her best friends. Maybe that’s why Robin had no problem when it came time to figure out what was going on. 

She was the first -and maybe only one- to catch Eddie’s lips opening, the clenched fists, the way he always tried to make you laugh or how he looked fastly over at you everytime something funny happened, just so he could see you smile. 

It wasn’t long after when she clocked Steve doing something similar. Steve would always fix his hair before talking to you, he took a step closer than he had to when he was talking to you, his hand lingered when he passed something to you. Most importantly, Steve was a big flirt, and Robin could tell it was working. 

She still was unsure about you. 

She had caught you looking at Eddie when he was deep into a story, your eyelids half closed, as if you were daydreaming about him, and she was sure she had seen you bite your lower lip after looking at his neck. 

But today you had called Steve an idiot with a dumb smile, a playful touch to his chest that had left your cheeks with a pinkish hue, only made worse when Steve grabbed your hand so he could make you twirl to the sound of the music emanating from his car before he left when he dropped you both off. 

Robin was now sitting outside the car park, with an Eddie who was lost into you. 

Eddie couldn’t keep his eyes off of you, and the way your hair moved as you walked closer to them. 

“You’re doing okay?” She asked with an eyebrow raised, as she schotched over so you’d sit next to her as you always did. 

Eddie didn’t even look up, he just grabbed the chocolate bar he had in his pocket, for exactly that reason, handing it over to you. 

“You don’t have to.” Your voice came out all shy, a soft smile as you looked at the colorufull wrapper that laid right in his hands. 

“I know.” Eddie muttered, nodding his head at you, the usual grin he had only for you appearing on his face. 

“Thanks Eds.” You managed to say, grabbing it and biting it. 

Robin rolled her eyes as soon as she saw Eddie focusing on the way your lips opened, stifling a laugh as she shook her head. Both of you are oblivious to the way the other feels.

“Are we still going to the dance tonight?” You asked, breaking the small moment of silence that had formed. 

“Is it tonight?” Eddie asked, his usual teasing tone in his voice every time this topic came up. 

“Yes…” You squinted your eyes at him, knowing he’d smile as soon as he saw you. 

“Yeah, we’ll be here.” Robin confirmed, standing up from the little curbside she had settled into. “Can you give me a ride, Eds?” She asked, tussing her hair in the middle of the question. 

“Uh, sure. D’you need a ride, dove?” Eddie was embarrassed as soon as he muttered the nickname he tried, recomforted by the way you seemed to be pleased by it. 

“I think Steve’s picking me up.” You felt a bit guilty saying it, made worse by Eddie pressing his lips together, followed by a short nod as he went to find his van. 

“Okay, what’s the deal?” Robin had had enough of playing detective. She needed to know what was going through your mind. 

“What do you mean?” You scrunch your nose, not really wanting to know if she was asking what you thought she meant. 

“Oh come on! Eddie’s got a crush on you, Steve has a crush on you, you..?” She left the question open, wanting you to finish it with an answer, instead you got all flustered, standing up straight in a fast motion, trying to make sense of what she had just said. 

“Eddie doesn’t have a crush on me! Neither does Steve, he’s just being nice… And I just, they’re both…” 

“Hot?” 

“Shut up…” You punched her on her shoulder, a giggle escaping both of your lips. “They both treat me so well, and they’re kind and yeah… they’re hot.” 

Robin couldn’t help but laugh, and neither could you, it only made it worse when Robin suggested that if you played your cards right, you might see Paris. 

It continued until Steve’s car stopped next to you. 

Steve stepped out, fixing his hair in a movement that made you wish you could be the one fixing it. His other hand held a small gathering of wild flowers, with pink carnations sticking out of them. Robin's mouth opened wide, as she saw how Steve moved closer to you, looking nervous. 

“Hi.” You chirped, as soon as he stood right in front of you, his feet almost touching yours. 

“Hi.” He stuttered a bit, his nervous energy made evident. He gave a quick glance at Robin, who just nodded, stepping back a bit. “I uh… I know this might be cheesy but, these are for you–” He stopped talking when your fingers brushed his, the same feeling he always had invading your body. An electricity, a warmness that was hard to explain. 

“They are lovely… Why…?” The sweetest tone that could be heard as a melody came out of your lips, and Steve could live in it for an eternity. 

“I… I kinnda wanna take you to the dance, if you’re okay with it.” He begged, a faint trace on it on his tone, as he stepped a bit closer, your feet between his opened legs. His eyes locked into yours, you were a goner as soon as you looked at him and the way his lips curved a bit more on the right than they did on the left. 

“Like a date?” You echoed, a glimpse of hope evident enough that his teeth were now showing when he smiled as he nodded. “I’d love to.” 

Steve caressed your cheek as he reached to hold your hand, walking you to his car as he opened the door for you, he was still going to drive you home. 

Unlucky for Eddie, he had seen the whole thing, and Robin said nothing, just waited for him to start the car. 

-

You and Robin were supposed to get picked up by Steve, who was supposed to pick Eddie up. 

It did happen, only that the tension in the car between both boys could be felt, even from outside and with the windows rolled up. 

No music was playing on the radio, Steve was grabbing the steering wheel a bit harder than he needed to -his knuckles turning white- whilst Eddie kept playing with his index finger, one swipe left, two swipes right. 

Eddie wanted to talk, to ask Steve is he was serious about it, but the smell of aftershave was intoxicating enough to confirm he was. 

As soon as the car stopped, Eddie looked at the wooden doors of Robin’s house, and the way Steve walked them up with such confidence -even if he was just faking it, he was nervous about it all going well, so much so he hadn’t even realised he drove over with no music on- he left a knock on the door, for it to open shortly after. 

You were truly breathtaking. 

Red had never looked that good. The dress hugged your chest, a flowy skirt dropping from your waist, your arms decorated with the same red colour as what looked like a scarf fell from them. Your hair was out of your face, your eyes shined a bit more, your lips looked pinker, juicier. He was losing his mind. 

It only hurt a bit more when he realised he had his hand out, waiting for yours to fit in it, but you moved past him, accepting Steve’s instead, as he twirled you around, praising you, telling you just how good you looked. A shower of compliments Eddie was also thinking, but couldn’t articulate. He just stared at the floor, only looking up when he felt Robin’s touch on his shoulder, a look of compassion held between the both of them. 

Nobody would blame you, or the hyperfixation you had all of a sudden with the way Steve’s neck looked, the red tie wrapping around it, contrasting with the white shirt. What was worse, you had never realised just how many moles and freckles Steve’s skin had, the one that laid where his jaw met his neck was particularly driving you insane. You danced the night away, mostly it was the four of you in a little circle, chatting and drinking whatever was inside the punch. Steve’s hands only found your waist when a slow song played. His thumbs grabbed you a bit too hard, in a way that he knew immediately why you bit your lower lip, and in response your hands were behind his neck, your nails tracing a patron in his skin, tugging his hair slightly. He grinned, chuckled and made you laugh, his eyes shining, looking at yours. You had never seen such beauty in brown until now. 

Maybe you did like Steve, and maybe he did like you. 

Eddie went outside. As soon as he saw you biting your lip, his hands on your waist, yours in his hair, he needed some air. 

He wished it were him. He wasn’t as fancy as Steve was, he had a white shirt under his uncle's old muted brown shirt. He struggled to remember in which pocket he put the Marlboro's away. He had been fidgeting with his lighter for a while, needing, craving a moment of silence. 

He was almost done smoking as he felt sorry for himself, when he heard the doors opening, the sudden music became clear for those brief seconds. 

He turned around, seeing you walking towards him with the biggest smile he had seen in your face for a while. 

For a brief moment, he forgot he was hurt. 

“You do look beautiful Moon” You told him as soon as you reached him, your body next to his, snatching the half smoked cigarette that he had in between his fingers. 

He scoffed, turning his whole body to look at you, he saw the way you smiled up at him, you were being sincere which was only just as hurting as you dancing with him had been. 

“Beautiful?” He questioned, a slight teasing on his tone as he inched closer, breathing in the smoke you let out, stealing the cigarette back. 

“Yeah, beautiful handsome Eddie.” You uttered, the faint smell of alcohol left your mouth, Eddie scrunch his nose. 

“You’re drunk?” 

“No, only had one drink. But you’ve been moody, I miss you in there.” You chirped back, your usual playful tone didn’t make him smile, not even grin. You got worried right there and then. Your hand reaching for his, trying to pull him back into the party. 

“I’m sure you’ll have a great time.” He implied, nodding at Steve who was just now opening the door, looking for you with a lovesick grin on his face. 

“What’s going on?” You weren’t sure what you had done to leave him in such a state, he seemed hurt, his words colder than they had even been. 

“Nothing.” Eddie lied, you hated lies. 

Something in you clicked, as you saw the way Steve smiled you, a contradiction to Eddie’s pursed lips as his jawline looked sharper than it ever did. 

Robin’s words echoed in your head Eddie’s got a crush on you, Steve’s got a crush on you. 

“Well, next time have the courage to ask me out before someone else does…” You snapped back, your arms crossing over your chest, a protective stance taking hold of you as you stepped back. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He shook his head, his hair brushing against his face, an apologetic look on his eyes that made you want to cry. 

“It means don’t just suppose nobody will want me, am I supposed to wait for you forever?” 

Eddie couldn’t quite believe that declaration, knowing now you might also have some feeling for him, but he was a little too late. You sniffled your nose, shaking your head, your hair flowing everywhere. “Forget it.” You declared, leaving the little bubble you were in. 

You walked over to Steve, and he just looked at you, the smile he had turned as soon as he saw the way your eyes were crystalizing, menacing with tears. He cupped your cheeks with his hands. 

You gave in, your body hitting his, Eddie just saw the way your shoulders moved up and down. 

You were crying now. 

“Honey…” Steve begged as he took you in his arms. “Do you want to leave?” 

“I’m sorry.” You whispered back, feeling warmer in his arms, the coldness of Eddie’s words brushing away with the closeness of Steve’s body. 

“Don’t be. We can go anywhere you want. As long as I’m with you I’m happy.” He blurted, his eyes looking at yours, his thumbs brushing out the tear that came out of them. 

“Are you sure?” 

“‘curse I am.” He added, a smile returning to his lips, before he kissed the crown of your head. “I can also drop you off.” He offered, you shook you head. 

“I don’t wanna be alone.” You answered, your voice still barely above a whisper. 

“That’s fine, you wanna go for a walk?” He replayed instead, taking your hand, intertwining your fingers with his. 

As soon as you nodded he started walking. He didn’t push for you to talk, he didn’t try to make assumptions, but of course he did. 

The last he had seen was you talking with Eddie. Steve had always thought that Eddie was beautiful, he had a magnetic pull with people that was hard to explain, and he also knew that Eddie was sharp with his words. So he gave you enough time to gather your thoughts. 

“I do like you…” You confessed, your tone remaining low and soft as you spoke, looking at the ground, not confident enough to look at him right now. 

“I like you too.” He gleamed with pride, though he thought that much was obvious. 

“I… I figured that out with the flowers.” You recalled, as a shiver from the cold air made you shake a bit. 

Steve wasted no second, his tuxedo jacket laying on your shoulders now. 

“The flowers gave me away?” He teased, a short chuckle in the back of his throat. “It wasn’t my constant offer to drive you anywhere?” He admitted with a defeated laugh. 

“I thought you were being nice.” You admitted, still not looking at him, much more interested in the way your shoe made contact with the ground beneath your feet. 

“I was. I also have this crush on you.” The word sended shivers down your spine. 

“Robin says Eddie also has a crush on me.” That when you looked up, seeing a defeated nod from Steve only confirmed it. “I… I don’t know what to do.” 

“I don’t wanna tell you what to do, but… while you figure it out, can I defend my case?” He pleaded, his waist bumping into yours, his finger under your chin. He was being brave, he was finally taking his chance. 

As soon as you nodded, and your lips parted, your eyes darting between his eyes and his lips, a neediness that became clear as you realised what was about to happen, Steve got closer. Close enough to breathe the same air as you, his mouth a whisper away from yours, enjoying that tension that had formulated in the air. He was enjoying that bit of power, feeling how bad you wanted him. You were the one to finally close the distance, and he was ecstatic about it. He took his time, his lips moving gracefully against yours, your hands tugging the back of his neck, one of his was lost in the space between your neck and your jawline, applying a pressure that made you moan against his lips, thought maybe that was due to the way his other hand was grabbing your waist, his fingers would leave a mark, that much was clear. 

As soon as you break off the kiss, the lovesick smile on both of your faces was evident. 

“That was…” He muttered, left speechless by your kisses, needing more of them. 

“You are a good kisser.” You slightly teased him back, recalling the rumors about him in a joyful manner. 

He kissed you a lot more after that, having to stop walking in the middle of the road as you went to find his car. 

Robin saw it, and decided it was best if she kept her mouth shut this time, but she did overhear the last thing Steve whispered to you before going back into the car. “I don’t mind sharing, you can figure out whatever you need, honey.” 

She already saw the headache coming, and really regretted that Eddie didn’t see the way your cheeks flustered at the idea of being with him for a while. 

-

if you enjoyed it, pls like a comment, reblog or like, it really helps a lot <33

request and asks are open!

[weebsinstash]

I want yandere Alastor being the biggest fucking hypocrite on the block and getting painfully humbled by reality so fucking bad you don't understand

I want a story where you stumble into becoming his friend with benefits, become the person who gets him interested in sex as a physical activity, and then one day you ask him "hey, what are we?" And his response being ABSOLUTELY RUDE AS HELL, albeit unintentionally, and you immediately cut him off from sex because his reply was basically the equivalent of "you're fun to sleep with, but the rest of you? No :)" (and also maybe he didn't even fully mean it, maybe he only partially meant it but he can tell he's forming some kind of new emotion for you and he doesn't want that to become a point of weakness for him so he's pushing you away but once you're actually gone he wants you back more than ANYTHING--)

I want yandere Alastor who laughs in your face if you nervously ask him if you're his girlfriend or something but then when you show up around town with another man less than a week later and he sees how easily you REPLACED HIM, he's just absolutely losing his mind. What do you MEAN you were still sleeping with other men this whole time?!?! The Radio Demon was getting SLOPPY SECONDS??? WHY would you let these-these disgusting bastards DEGRADE YOU-- meanwhile you and him could've been having like hardcore bdsm sex with actual degradation or some semi respectful form of it and he's STILL over here "B B BUT THESE MEN PROBABLY DONT EVEN RESPECT YOU--" and neither did you, you laughed in my fucking face you bitch!!!

yandere Alastor just having to sit and have a fulllll glass of whiskey and ruminate on his thoughts as he tries to come to terms with these sudden EXTREMELY POSSESSIVE feelings and urges he has. What do you MEAN he wasn't providing anything for you that you couldn't get somewhere else AND BETTER AND ALREADY WERE? what do you MEAN you're making gifts for and going out and having actual fun dates with some of these men? What do you fucking MEAN YOU'RE 'ROMANTICALLY INVOLVED WITH SOMEONE ELSE NOW' AND WOULDN'T SLEEP WITH ALASTOR EVEN IF HE APOLOGIZED BECAUSE YOU REALLY LIKE THIS GUY--

Alastor hardcore coping, trying not to think about you at all, telling himself he just needs time and this'll all blow over and he wont even think about you anymore, and eventually finds his feet carrying him to your favorite jazz club that he would take you to, AND YOU'RE ALREADY THERE WITH ANOTHER MAN. Now THIS is what causes Alastor to finally have a public episode. No, some RANDO can't come with you HERE, this is YOUR place, OUR place, it's special, it's for Alastor and you ONLY!! basically turns him into a little kid stomping his foot going no no no that's MINE!!!

This narcissistic ass man really ain't shit, over here responding to your actually extremely valid question of "what are we?" because you were actually trying to respectfully ask him if there were any certain boundaries or if you were now exclusive, and he hits you with some deflective dehumanizing diversion like "what makes you think I would have THOSE kinds of feelings about YOU?" until he's painfully aware you're sleeping with another man, kissing another man, making hot meals for another man, holding his hand tenderly as you take a leisurely stroll, GOD FORBID HE CATCHES WIND OF ANY MARRIAGE TALK, HE WILL FUCKING L O S E IT

Juat the idea of him being so close to having what he wants - your body, heart, AND mind- and he fucks it up big time and ruins your relationship and self esteem so badly. He tries to pretend that he doesn't need your attention and/or affection but the second he doesn't have EITHER, he's a jealous mess trying to literally one-up whomever you're with, show off, impress you, usually digging his hole even deeper. Alastor becoming more unpredictable over time, literally losing sleep over you, absolutely CONVINCED 500% that all of these, shall we say, "more modern men" that you're choosing are not even worth the dirt in the treads of your shoes.

Just twirling my hair kicking my feet thinking bout yandere Alastor, becoming dead-set on genuinely and fully believing he has to save you not just from these men, but also yourself. Oh honey, he's so sorry, CLEARLY this is his fault for not watching over you better. He already knew you were... delicate and naive, but here you are, running around letting these men treat you like some kind of object just because you need what you perceive as acceptance and validation. It almost breaks his heart, truly, but don't worry darlin'! He's a southern gentleman and, SURELY he can turn up the charm and make it clear to you that you MISUNDERSTOOD HIM, right? :) You're going to GIVE HIM ANOTHER CHANCE, right? :)

genuinely, i feel like this man is more likely to try and gaslight you into believing you completely misinterpreted what he said instead of just apologizing let alone ADMITTING that he himself didn't communicate jack shit about shit, wasn't honest or up front about his feelings, and may have even be intentionally cruel to you in a moment of weakness to try and keep his own insecurities at bay, but then is fully capable of convincing, some may even say BRAINWASHING you into believing, oh sweetie, if these DEGENERATE DELIQUENTS somehow convinced you that your best friend and future husband is somehow your enemy, then, CLEARLY he hasn't been keeping you close enough to properly care for you and help you keep a clear head, has he? guess it's a good thing both of you are Sinners and he has NOTHING but time to show you EXACTLY what his intentions are. So, dear doe, which do you like the sound of more: a spring wedding, or a summer wedding, or maaaaaybe you two could even get hitched during some lovely acid rain so your new spouse can demonically laugh at all your screaming "gentleman callers" captive in the wedding audience who "accidentally" weren't put under any gazebos or any sort of protection while being forced to watch Alastor take you away--

[holylulusworld]

Faking it all (2)

Summary: It’s date time. 

Written for @spnkinkevents SPN Omegaverse Week – Day 7 – Saturday, April 20 - Alpha/Omega for Hire

Pairing: Alpha!Dean Winchester x Omega!Reader

Warnings: a/b/o, reader was an omega for hire, love-struck Dean, nervous Dean

Words: 700+

Catch up here: Faking it all

A/N: This is the last day of the event and the last story I wrote for it.

SPN Omegaverse Week Masterlist

Dean wrings his hands. He didn’t listen and came to your apartment instead of waiting for you at the restaurant. The alpha tried to act like a gentleman and pick you up.

Now the clock is ticking and he’s waiting patiently outside of your home.

“Y/N, I came here to pick you up. I bought you flowers and all. At the restaurant, you cannot put the flowers anywhere.”

You sigh and open the door. “I told you to wait outside the restaurant for me,” you purse your lips. “You can’t even follow a simple order. This is our first date and you already messed everything up.”

“I came here to offer flowers to you,” Dean grunts. “I thought you’d be impressed because I tried to be romantic. I even booked a fucking horse carriage to drive us through the park after dinner.”

You watch Dean despair. He looks at the flower basket standing next to your doorframe, huffing as he messed up the first date with you.

“I wanted you to wait for me at the restaurant so I can drive home alone. Most alphas want to pick a woman up, believing they get laid after the first date.”

“What? I—” Dean swallows thickly. His cock twitched in interest, but he shakes his head. “I didn’t think of getting laid. I only tried to survive the first date without fucking things over again.”

You cross your arms over your chest, simply watching Dean whine.

“Fine. Get the flowers and call that carriage dude. I won’t spend the night in a carriage. It’s cold, and I’m not in the mood to smell horse poop.”

“Poop?” Dean grins.

“Hurry up and get inside,” you open the door wider, walking with it to let Dean inside. He grasps the flower basket and hurriedly makes his way inside your apartment. “I got pasta, salad, and pie for dessert.”

Dean stops in his tracks to stare at you. “What? You cooked. But why?”

“I knew you’d not listen,” you coo and pat his shoulder. “Take off your shoes and coat and put the flower basket on the sideboard over there.” You point to the sideboard.

“You knew?” He quirks a brow. “How?”

“I knew the alpha hindbrain could not follow orders coming from an omega. And I knew you’re an eager puppy wanting to rub your scent into my stuff.”

His grin widens. Dean chuckles and crouches down to unlace his shoelaces. “I knew you were perfect for me.”

“Slow down and hold the horses,” you poke his back with your index finger. “You didn’t make it through the first date yet.”

“I…I don’t want you to work as an omega for hire any longer. I’ll help you find a better job or do anything to keep you away from other alphas,” he blurs out. “Shit. Fuck. Sorry. I didn’t want to say things like that. I’m not a control freak or try to dominate you.”

“As if I’d let you dominate me," you snort. "No alpha will ever tell me how to live my life."

Dean drops his gaze. He did exactly what he tried not to do. Now he lost the chance to get to know you better and win you over.

“Relax. My business went down the drain long before we met. The new girls did more than go on dates with my clients and ruined my reputation.”

You shrug and grab the flower basket.

“You don’t work as an omega for hire anymore?” Dean follows you hot on your heels. “Really? I mean…are you open to pups and nesting in my home? Maybe we can mate and look for a new home together. I got all these plans and…” He gasps at his words. 

You snort.

“Crap,” Dean curses under his breath. “Did I say that out loud? I’m sorry…again. Please, believe me, I’m usually not like this.”

You smirk.

“I swear!”

“Dean.”

“Yeah?” Dean whispers. He watches you turn around. His eyelashes flutter nervously when you cup his face with both hands.

“If you stop talking now, this can still be a nice evening,” you lean closer to peck his nose. “You should use your brain as a filter before speaking again. I don't need to know that you are planning to breed me like a horny dog.”

He chuckles nervously. It’s like you can see right through his cocky façade. “Okay.”

“Good,” you peck his nose again. “If you can tame your libido and stop saying stupid things, you can eat with me.”

“I promise to not talk about breeding or your job again. I’m an idiot, but not stupid.”

“As long as you’re not like your father,” you nip at his lips, making him purr against you, “we are golden…”

Tags in reblog.

[i-put-the-hot-in-psychotic]

Target Acquired PART 1

Pairings: Keegan. P. Russ x Soldier!Reader

Enemies to Lovers Trope

Summary: You and Keegan were somewhat of enemies, if that could be said. You got shot by him when you were on a mission, and hide in a nearby warehouse, but what happens when you actually get to talking, and showing him that you are not a scared woman and you mean business as much anyone else.

Disclaimer: This story will contain curse words, war themes, gun shot wounds, and (NSFW) sexual themes in part 2.

"Fuck"

You seeth between your teeth. You got shot, but from where you don't know. You rested your back against the metal crate breathing deeply.

You are enemies.

He was good, shooting you like that. You couldn't see in the the dusty air surrounding you. The abandoned warehouse. You just need to get there, hide there at least until you patch yourself.

The building is dark and has no lights except for the sunlight from the broken windows. All of a sudden, footsteps start getting closer. A man turns into the room. It's him.

He points his gun at you, scanning your body.

"Take your weapons off and push them towards me." He demands.

"Why? You already shot me. Might as well end it here" you say as you leaned against the wall breathing heavy holding your abdomen and applying pressure.

He walks towards you, still pointing his gun at you. "I need to make sure you are unarmed first. Take your weapons off and put them on the ground. Now!"

Sighing heavily sending him daggers, as if you're in a position to shoot, you removed your weapons and shot them towards him with a kick of your foot.

"There happy?"

He catches each one of the weapons with a holt underneath his heavy boot.

"I need to search you." He says, after a moment of dead silence.

"Take off your clothes and throw them towards me."

You stop dead in your tracks. Eyes trying to meet his, sadly having the light come from behind him it made him just a silhouette. He wasn't serious was he?

The corner of his mouth rises into a slight smile. "You heard me. Remove your clothes."

"Keegan"

"What?"

"Im not going to. I gave you my weapons what more could you want. Leave me to bandage myself." you state finalizing your bandage with a knot.

His expression sharpens, becoming somewhat frustrated.

"You aren't going anywhere until I say so. Remove your clothes, now."

You get up, winching at the pain in your abdomen. Keegan got you good shooting just beneath your chest plate. You removed your chest plate and your thigh holsters. Giving him a look as he urged you to continue.

You removed your top leaving you in your string one and finally went to your cargo pants, removing your boots too.

"This isn't very ethical. Even during war" you state.

Your string top had blood all over it sticking to your naval, but pushing the pain away you strengthen in front of him, trying to subside your anger. He was not going humiliate you.

His eyebrows arch in surprise as he stares at your body. He walks around you, checking every crevice. The look on his face is of disbelief and... curiosity?

"I'm amazed you are putting up this much of a fight... "

"Can I get dressed now? " you reply unamused.

Silence.

You look at his eyes. What game is he playing? Thoughts gave him away from his eyes, but no ounce of emotion from behind his mask.

"Please turn around for me." He says in a calm but firm voice.

You turn around as he instructs. Breathing heavy having him behind your back, you prepare for the worst, arms and legs at the ready years of training on you.

Silence.

Not even the rifle's strap sound, nothing.

He looks up and down your body as if studying it. For a moment, he stares in silence, letting his eyes take everything in.

Finally, he clears his throat. "Alright, I'm done here." He starts walking towards the door. "Once I've left, get dressed and don't try anything stupid."

"So what? What was this all for? Wanted to feel some power over me? That's why you had me take my uniform off?" You reply angry.

"Haven't seen a woman I presume"

You hit a nerve.

He was close to the door leaving. Smirking he wasn't the only one in power here.

He stops walking. This is the first time you've seen his expression change. He's... amused?

"You aren't scared of me?" He asks.

Normally, people are petrified. This is the first time someone's talked to him like this.

You turn and move towards him. He towers over you full gear on. You still in your under uniform garments.

"I'm scared of no one" you say directly looking in his eyes.

The tension in the air grows as your two bodies are now just inches apart.

He takes a small step forward, invading your personal space. He stares down at you, unblinking. You feel like you are caught in a trance, as if you cannot look away.

"You're not scared of me, hmm?"

"Never" you whisper to him.

He inches closer. Your lips are now only a few centimeters apart, his covered by his mask.

His eyes pierce into yours. He seems transfixed, almost like a predator watching its prey.

There is a slight smile on his lips. He speaks barely aloud in a teasing tone.

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure"

You inch closer actually meaning what you're saying. As he angles his head closer you reply; "You should get going, they might be wondering where their leader went. Wouldn't want them to know you were with the enemy would you?" you say walking backwards away from him.

"Hmm... and what if I wanted to be with the enemy?" He steps toward you again, matching your walking pace but remaining only an inch or two behind you.

His lips curl into a devilish smirk and he tilts his head curiously to the side like he can't believe how brave you are.

You're shocked, yet not surprised that would be something he would say, however you remained stoic.

"Maybe the enemy doesn't want to be with you" you tantalize.

He pauses for a moment, still following behind you but not moving any closer.

His eyes are darting around your body, trying to take it all in. He speaks again in a voice that's somehow both playful and yet deadly.

"You're a bold one, aren't you?"

You start to dress back into your uniform, wanting to leave. Finally putting on your cargo pants you don't reply to him.

"Hey..."

He speaks, but at first his voice is so low that you ignore it.

"Hey!"

He tries again, yelling this time. He can't let you leave. And there's something else in his voice, a hint of desperation.

You heavily sigh wanting this game to end. Dressed, you walk towards him hitting his shoulder with yours making your way out of the building.

He grabs your wrist before you can walk further, spinning you around to face him.

For the first time, you see that deep down, he's not a monster. There is a hint of humanity and emotion in his eyes.

"Can I ask you something?"

Without replying you looked at his hand wrapped around your wrist then at him. Lets hear this you think.

He grips your wrist tighter, not hard enough to hurt but just enough to show you he's not letting go.

He stares back into your eyes, studying them, trying to read them.

"Why... are you so fearless?" he asks.

You frown at that. Remembering things that made you who you are today.

"Life" you reply.

For a moment, you see a flash of empathy in his eyes before he quickly masks it with his usual expression. "Right."

He pauses, then lets go of your wrist. He stares silently for another moment then finally breaks the silence. "You're different... "

"So are you" you say heading back to the outside world wanting this scene to end not knowing what actually happened between you two. Hand on the door handle you turn looking to wards him. "See you on the battlefield" you say opening the door.

He stays perfectly still, letting you walk outside first. You notice that he seems almost sad, like he's lost something.

You feel his eyes following you out. They are full of curiosity as if he's wondering if he'll ever see you again.

You are both very different people, but for some reason, you have this strange feeling that you are somehow connected to each other.

[iiotic]

You have my heart | chapter 2

Human! Alastor x Fem! Reader

❥︎ You have my heart | Navigation

Prologue | chapter 1 | chapter 2 | chapter 3..

❥︎ word count - 1.1k

please read the tws before reading this story!! You may find them in the navigation.

You looked up at the man before you. A charming gentleman with brown hair and caramel eyes. Putting your purse down, you decided to respond to his ridiculous question.

- Leaving, and who might you be? - You questioned him as you stood up, only to realise that he was much more taller than you.

- Alastor, pleasure to be meeting you miss..? - He extended his hand for, you thought, a handshake. As you gave him your hand, you were surprised by him kissing your knuckles.

- Charmed - You said, before introducing yourself. You truly didn't want to engage in any small talks nor conversation. You were so tired of this day after your "future husband" didn't even show up. You just wanted to go to bed and take a nap after a hard day.

You tried to excuse yourself from the situation, saying that your cat is home alone, begging for some affection.

- Nonsense, my dear! I assure you cats are very smart creatures and they can take care of themself. - Alastor assured you. Pointing to the table he added. - Would you like to sit down for a nice talk? the dinner is my treat.

You looked out of the window at the chauffeur waiting for you for hours by now, considering his offer. You didn't want to come back home, nor did you want to explain to your arrogant mother that the man didn't show up. However you were so tired and didn't want to stay awake any more minutes. But how are you suppose to find your true love if you didn't talk to anyone?

You sat down at the table, as Alastor did the same beside you. What were his intentions? You didn't know. You couldn't help but to glare at him, yet he still looked so comfortable and calm in his seat.

As he asked you what would you like, you answered harshly unintentionally. The atmosphere seemed tense, as the restaurant was filled with mostly silence. Most of the people already left, leaving you witt just a few people left waiting, not including staff.

You tried so hard to interact with the man before you, but the little voice in your head told you not to, for some strange reasons. Looking out of the window, once again, seeing countless cars and people walking. Pheraps some just went for a walk and others just came back from work? Maybe some of them just got groceries, maybe some of them are going to a important event. Your thoughts were interrupted with a sudden cough.

- Sorry, what were you saying? - You asked hurriedly, seemingly embarrassed by the whole situation. You hadn't had a normal interaction in a while.

- I'd like to apologize for being so pushy earlier, however i wish to get to know you. - He said with his signature smile. Before you could respond your food was delivered by the same young woman. 'Bon appetite' she said before running away.

- If you don't mind me asking, where do you work at? As far as I know the clothes that you're wearing aren't exactly cheap. - He asked, looking up from his now fresh food. - Before you ask "why? ". I'm asking out of curiosity.

You didn't know what to say, you were so embarrassed. You decided to try to dodge his question.

- I accept your apologies for being so "pushy" as you said. And also i don't mind you asking any questions, that's how conversations work, don't they? - You jokingly-asked trying to lighten the mood and make him forget about his question.

Alastor didn't respond, waiting for you to say something, his eyes saying everything. He relaxed a bit after hearing you sigh and finally answer his question.

- If you really must know, I don't work anywhere. - You mumbled quickly, as another sigh of relief could be heard from you. You were so reliefed that you already said it.

- I'm sorry, dear? I didn't quite catch that.

Shit. You truly didn't want him to know that you were unemployed. What would he think of you? When you said it the first time you didn't think correctly. What were you doing? You didn't know but before you acknowledged what you were doing it already slipped.

- I am an medical secretary. - You lied but didn't know what the fuck is a medical secretary. - It's a truly exhausting job if you'd ask me. Where do you work at? - You asked nervously before he could any more question about the job.

- Well, dear i thought you figured out who I am? - he chuckled slightly but when he say the look of confusion on your face he got a bit confused himself. - I am the radio host.

- I'm sorry the Radio host? - You questioned him being confused by his big ego. Frustrated, even.

- I'm sorry, so bold of me. - He fixed his composure. - I'm a radio host, just a radio host.

He was so reliefed that you didn't hear about him. So reliefed that you're not a psycho fan of his.

You thought it was an pretty easy yet exciting job. Sharing your thoughts about his job to him you were interrupted by someone walking in. Your chauffeur. You knew that you weren't the only one tired of waiting. You had to think of an plan quickly. You didn't think that medical secretary makes that much money. But it was too late he was already standing beside your table.

- Ma'am your mother told me that we need to get going now. - Your chauffeur said. Cursing under your breath, you decided to improvise. Just as you were about to say that you didn't know who he was. Alastor interrupted.

- Dear, you didn't say that you had a husband. - But you didnt? You looked at him like a deer at the headline, before fully understanding what he said. Now you had a plan. You stood up from your seat, excusing yourself, standing next to your chauffeur.

- I don't, yet. This is my boyfriend..uh.. - You looked at the chauffeur, trying to remember his name but failing miserably. - yes.

You saw the look of confusion in your chauffeurs eye, not wanting to look at him, you nooded at him to play along. Unfortunately for you, he didn't understand.

- I'm not sure you heard me correctly. Your dad ask- The chauffeur was interrupted by Alastor this time.

- I didn't know you had a boyfriend. - Alastor said glaring at the poor chauffeur.

- Because I don't! - You said after you realized that it was a terrible idea. Your hands sweaty from the whole situation. - This is my dad!

- Your dad? - They both asked confused at the same time. You were in a truly terrible situation. You didn't know what to say so you just nodded and tried to see what will happen next.

However despise your best effort to stay, you stormed out of stress, feeling the tears in your eyes. Gosh, why did you have to be so embarrassing?

Sitting in the car, you tried your best to not burst into tears. Your chauffeur soon following you and driving you home. It was too much for you. You just wanted to be normal, to have a healthy marriage, to love.

Is it that hard?

TAGLIST

@cherry-cola-100 @alastorssimp @cyganep @mutifandomkid @happytacojudgepalace @spirit-of-the-hollow @phisen

[cyborg-squid]

I just read Hell Screen in preparation for Ryoshu's Canto:

1) Wow, it is really good, I can see why the foreword said "If only one work of his [Ryonosuke Akutagawa] were to survive, this should be it." Nice and compact length too.

2) It's also this amazing exercise in narration; not exactly an 'unreliable' narrator, but a very clearly biased one. I concert with this narration style is the fact that no character besides Yoshihide (and the monkey named after him) has a name, it's all Yoshihide's Daughter, His Lordship, His Ladyship, His Reverence, Assorted Apprentices, etc... It really reinforces the fact that this story is all about Yoshihide and, the unnamed narrator would have you believe, illustrates Yoshihide's own arrogance and self-centered nature...

...which we see isn't entirely true, the narrator is forced to relent that Yoshihide very much cares for his daughter, and vice-versa. He repeatedly asks for her return from His Lordship's manor, and is refused, and his acceptance of the Hell Screen commission is likely to try and earn her back through his work.

So it's in that light that Yoshihide's actions are cast in a very different light, the servant narrator would have us believe in the unimpeachability of His Lordship's character, but the reader can catch on real early that, oh, this lord really wants Yoshihide's daughter, and Yoshihide wanting her back isn't a father's protectiveness, it's him wanting to get her out of a very bad situation, and is willing to do anything to accomplish that.

And even then, despite chaining that one apprentice and attacking another with an owl, it's not even Yoshihide that crosses the final line; he initially only requests to see a carriage set aflame, it is His Lordship who adds in a woman to be burnt, and derives such a perverse pleasure in having and seeing the daughter (who struggled against his advances) burned alive. It's fascinating, His Lordship is described as panting like a beast and frothing at the mouth watching this, the 'beast' comparison being levied against Yoshihide earlier in the story for his red lips and giving him the 'Monkeyhide' nickname. And then the monkey itself, given the name Yoshihide, ends up being more human than His Lordship and even the original Yoshihide; the reader sees the moneky's human mannerisms in his tugging trousers to get attention and kowtowing in thanks, and his ultimate humanity comes at the end when the monkey Yoshihide is able to do what the human one is not: to die alongside his daughter, to at least be with her. And yeah, one can't really fault Yoshihide the man for not being able to do anything in the face of such a sight, but the monkey is able to something, even if said thing is to just die alongside her.

3) A wikipedia summary or the like really doesn't do this story justice, I went in expecting Yoshihide to be the 'Mad Artist' type, and for some shades of Pickman's Model-esque 'horrible scene actually witnessed', but Yoshihide isn't nearly as mad as I first thought and is really quite interesting; very fitting then that he is the only character with a name. So I'm really excited to see what Limbus Company will do with him+her!

[braveclementine]

October 19: Non-Bed Surface (Severus Snape)💚

Warning: 18+ readers only, non-Bed Surface, degrading names (not loving), protective Severus, pet name, Professor Kink

Copyright: I do not own Severus Snape or other Harry Potter/Wizarding World characters. I also do not condone any copying of this.

You caught your breath once you were safely hidden under Severus' desk in the potions classroom. You had been sneaking around together for about four months now, having mind blowing sex and sweet kisses, but at the moment, you were slightly terrified of the male classmates that had been chasing you through the halls.

You could've casted a spell- you were a fairly good fighter- but they were popular boys with rich daddies and you really didn't want to get in the situation where you possibly won and they tattled, twisted the story, and you got in trouble. It just wasn't worth it.

Severus Snape was obviously the scariest Professor in school, and even the Slytherin boys wouldn't want to cross him. He wasn't the kind of man that even their rich daddies could intimidate into letting them off. Severus couldn't be intimidated by anyone, you were sure. Maybe Dumbledore. That would be it.

No, you were the only one who could get away with small things. In fact, he found them almost endearing, if you were not paying attention during class because you were staring at him, or if you almost ruined your potion because you were distracted by his presence behind you. He almost found it funny- if the potion ingredient you were about to add wasn't going to blow up the cauldron.

On the other hand, you did receive quite a few detentions from him, marking you as a trouble maker in his class. But they were just for the purpose of fucking and getting non-suspicious alone time.

You heard one of the boys throw open the potions door at that moment, the door bouncing off the stone wall, "I swear she just came in here."

"What's that spell to see if there's a person in a room again?" One of the boys asked.

"Stupid, that won't work, it'd just reveal everyone in the school." Another one scoffed.

There were five in total. They had cornered you in one of the hallways, asking if you'd blow them for a few Galleons. You'd been slightly terrified as they weren't taking no for an answer, upping the amount of Galleons as a tease. A slight distraction of pretending Professor McGonagall was behind them kept them distracted just long enough to duck under one of the smaller ones arms and start running.

You had no idea where Severus was at the moment. You had been hoping, when you'd entered, that he would be sitting at his desk grading papers and you would pretend to ask him a question and he'd protect you.

But instead, he was no where to be found. Maybe he was at the Great Hall, eating. It was just after lunchtime and his next class didn't start for another hour. Perhaps he was simply taking a stroll around the castle, trying to catch any Gryffindors in trouble and take house points.

So you'd hidden under his desk, hoping that they didn't look under there. Hoping they wouldn't even come into the classroom.

But they had. They had most unfortunately seen you come in here.

"She's in here somewhere." The first one said, "Find her and we can take her back to our room."

Unbeknownst to any of you, Severus had heard the boys enter the classroom, as he was sitting in his office, reading a Dark Arts book. At first, he had ignored them, assuming they were playing a childish game. He hadn't heard anyone enter so he knew that no one had originally came in. But when he heard them say 'take her back to our room,' he grew increasingly agitated, putting the book down.

He wasn't sure who 'her' was, but he hated when boys preyed on girls. He absolutely despised it.

"Where are you slut?" You heard one of the boys ask. You shivered a little under the table. You should've just headed for the Great Hall instead. But it had been farther away and you hadn't wanted to risk it.

Their footsteps were approaching the desk and you knew that any moment, they were going to find you.

That was when you heard another door open, "What are you doing in my classroom?" Severus' icy cold voice was asking.

"W-we were looking for a friend of ours." The first boy said nervously.

"Yes, I'm sure you call your friend such degrading names. You're lucky you're in my house and I'm in a fairly good mood, or else I'd be taking several points from you. Don't ever let me hear you speak of someone in such a detestable way again. Out."

The boys scampered and you heard Severus sigh. "Dunderheads."

You crawled out from underneath his desk, bumping your head, jarring the things on his desk, making you hiss. You heard his footsteps and you peered up, rubbing your head.

His heart nearly stopped at your innocent eyes. He'd only had you for four months and he was completely at your mercy.

His blood boiled when he realized that you were the one they were looking for. That you were the one they were calling 'slut'.

He knelt down, "Are you alright?"

"Yes, thank you for scaring them off." You mumbled, crawling into his lap to nuzzle into him. His heart warmed with you.

"They didn't hurt you, right?" He asked, cupping your face in his large, lovely hands. They weren't smooth, but rough with callouses, absolutely perfect. Rough and thick, perfect for so many things from potion making to getting you to scream his name through an orgasm.

"No. I distracted them and ran." You said matter-of-factly. "I didn't want to fight them. They have rich parents."

He understood that all too well.

You looked over you shoulder at the clock. Now that you were safe and in his arms, you were starting to get very needy.

"You know," You mumbled softly, rocking against his body slightly, "You still have forty-five minutes before your next class starts."

"Oh?" He cocked an eyebrow sexily. "And?"

"Will you fuck me on your desk?" You pleaded.

You felt him grow hard beneath you. He kissed your cheek, "Anything you want darling."

You were very quick to shoot up and plop your ass down on his desk, beaming up at him with large round eyes and a pouty lip. His heart was melting.

"No warm up." You demanded.

"As you wish." He mumbled quietly against your neck, pulling your knickers down and pushing your skirt up. Your hands were quick in undoing his belt. He discarded his robe on the chair and flicked his wand at the door, locking it and then charming it with two more locking spells and a silencing one.

He kissed sensually along your neck, sucking dark bruises into your skin. A sign that you were taken, even if no one knew whose you were.

You threw your arms around his neck, kissing along it as he slowly guided his thick appendage into your warm hole. His hands were firmly on your hips, holding you steady as he started off with slow rocking motions.

Slowly, he pushed you further until your back was flat against his desk and he was bent over you, fucking you more ferociously. You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him to you.

With the silencing charm, you could be as loud as you wanted. Moans were ripped from throat and you cried, "faster!" or "harder!" as you needed. Your fingers tugged his lovely black locks between your fingers. It was only illusioned to be greasy to complete his appearance. He actually took great care of his hair and left it smooth, clean, and silky just for you.

"Ah kitten," He grunted as you milked his cock for the third time, "Has it always been a dream to be fucked on me desk?"

"Yes Professor! Wanted to be ruined on your desk." You whined, nails digging into his back. With one last final thrust, he finished in you, calling your name with a grunt.

You both caught your breath and he slowly slipped from you. He cleaned both of you with his wand, handed you your knickers to put back on, and then pulled you into his lap. He kissed you several times, falling more and more in love with you each time.

"If they ever bother you again, let me know." He murmured, smoothing your hair back from your face. "I don't want you to get hurt in any way, okay?"

You buried your head into his shoulder, overwhelmed with the love and attention that he was giving you. "Yeah." you mumbled. "Severus?"

"Hmm, darling?"

"I love you."

"I love you too." He kissed your nose. You gaze at the clock, "You know. . . there's fifteen more minutes and the desk didn't collapse yet. . ."

He chuckled, "What a needy little kitten. Bend over."

You grinned as you slid off the desk to turn around and bend over it. Things were going exactly as you wanted.

[steviewashere]

hello!! steddie and 38 for the kiss prompt?? 💕

Hey, hey! <3 As a heads up, you might hate me for this. Everybody might hate me for this, lol. But here we go <3

Number 38: "Because they're running out of time."

CW: Eddie Munson Nearly Dies Here Tags: Season 4, Canon Divergence, Childhood Friends Steddie, Friends to Strangers to Friends?, Eddie Munson Loves Steve Harrington, Steve Harrington Loves Eddie Munson, Love Confession, Near Death

🕰️—————🕰️ When they structured the plan to go back into the Upside Down, Nancy had suggested that Eddie and Dustin team up for the demobats. Now, Steve loves Nancy—not in that way—but he thought that that was one of the dumbest things he’d ever heard come from her mouth. And she’s incredibly intelligent, like mad scientist level intelligent, surpassing everybody on this earth kind of intelligent.

“Dustin should go with Lucas and Max,” he argued, “and I’ll stay with Eddie.”

The room had fallen silent. Until, Robin piped up, “But we’re going to need your pitching arm, Steve. That—We need somebody to throw the molotov cocktails.”

He scoffed. “No, you don’t. Robs, you used to play softball before getting on the soccer team. You two will be perfectly fine without me. And, besides, if things go haywire—Abort. Walkie on your channel, and we’ll fucking take our losses and replan all this bullshit.”

While the room had erupted into an intense argumentative cadence, Steve held his ground. Looked to Eddie. To his panicked eyes that had not once calmed since they met—again.

Steve knew what he was getting into when they found Eddie. They hadn’t been friendly and sweet on each other since middle school. Since being little kids, but that didn’t mean Steve wouldn’t at least try again. That he wouldn’t put up a fight and demand to be put in Eddie’s corner. So he held onto this, held out on this change in plans, because Eddie looked back on the sofa. He looked to Steve with something like…longing. Like he wanted to reach out and take Steve’s hand. And if the room hadn’t been full of people that just wouldn’t understand, Steve would’ve taken the plunge. He would’ve indulged.

He should’ve indulged, now that he’s kneeled on the ground in a pile of limp demobat bodies. Eddie is in his arms, blood soaked and babbling. And Steve wishes they could start again.

“Keep looking at me, Eds,” he pleads, “look at me and…and tell me one of your stories. You’re good at that. Can you do that?”

For a moment, Eddie’s breath catches. And in those grave seconds, Steve thinks it's over. He brings his hand, which was laying over Eddie’s waist, and places it on his chest. On Eddie’s slow beating heart and his rattling lungs. And he presses. As if, by his touch alone, Eddie would continue to live.

Steve wants him to live. Wants to get him out of here. Get him to safety and hold him and clean his hair and go swimming in Lover’s Lake like they did as kids over the summer. Take Eddie by the hand and go hiking through the woods, turn over every rotting branch to look at worms, and be gifted with rocks Eddie deems cool enough. Ride their bikes until their legs ache and their stomachs are sick and they’re craving lemonade and cookies. Wants to love on him forever because he was a fool; gave it all up for…what…popularity?

Eddie gasps wetly. Coughs up blood from the back of his throat, it drips sluggishly down his chin. Instinctively, Steve cradles his jaw and wipes it all away. Until it’s tacky and red on his own skin. Then, Eddie’s eyes sweep over to him. He blinks. Cries silently. And states, quiet enough for only mice to hear, “’86 is going to be my year, Stevie.”

“Yeah?” Steve prods, breathless and on the verge of crying himself. He thumbs at Eddie’s tears. “Tell me, Eds. Tell me how it’s gonna be your year.”

Another rattling, wet breath. “Graduate,” Eddie mutters, “and…and play with the band. I was—G’nna go to y’r house. Give…Give you a sunflower. You…My S’v’ie likes flowers.” He stares up at Steve, but Steve doesn’t feel very looked at. Like maybe Eddie’s seeing something beyond him, above him. He bites his lip and cradles Eddie’s jaw again.

“I do,” Steve whispers, “I loved when you gave me flowers, Eds.”

He sniffs and tries not to think about the dried petals of flowers he kept over the years. Ones that he stashed away in old books given to him by Wayne. That reside in his dresser drawers and in a cardboard box in his closet. Tries not to think about taking Eddie home with him, after all this is over, and showing him all the things he kept.

How, in moments where Steve felt lost, he pulled out the rocks and books and other trinkets, and wondered. Where Eddie was. What he was doing. Why he forced himself away from the only friend, sans Robin, that felt real.

“S’eve?” Eddie weakly calls.

He only hums, pressing his thumb deep into the going cold skin of Eddie’s right cheek.

Eddie reaches a clumsy hand up to Steve’s face, but doesn’t quite reach. So Steve ducks closer. Lets Eddie pull him in towards his face. Wipe away his own tears. Caress the few moles by his ear.

“I love you,” Eddie breathes. Inhales with a gurgle and Steve sobs in turn. “Love you, S’eve. Wanted…Been wantin’ you for forever.”

“Eds…”

In one fell swoop, Eddie pulls Steve in all the way. Noses along Steve’s. Then, with the strength of a newborn deer, he presses his lips to Steve’s. They’re slick with blood and drying tears. Chapped, split at the corners. He moves slowly while Steve tries not to devour. Eddie’s hand drapes over the back of Steve’s neck, neither grasping nor safe anymore. But he kisses. Like…

Like it’s the last time he’ll ever do it.

Maybe it is, Steve realizes in those few seconds. Because Eddie’s breath grows shallower, raspier between them. He gurgles blood into Steve’s mouth. And that’s tasted on Steve’s tongue, metallic and sweet and harmful. Maybe it doesn’t need to be.

Steve forces them apart. Lets Eddie try and drag him back, but doesn’t go back to that kiss. “Save…Save it, Eds,” Steve begs, “Save it for when we’re home and—I can show you how much I love you, too, okay? Can you—“

“Can’t,” Eddie slurs, “I…S’v’ie.”

He presses another soft kiss, this time to Steve’s thumb, where it’s still close to the split corner of his mouth. But he doesn’t look back.

“S’v’ie, love you.”

“I love you, too, Eds,” Steve murmurs meekly. “I’ll take you home, okay? I can—“ He takes a sharp gasp, sobbing through an exhale. “—Kiss me tonight. You stay with me and kiss me,” his voice wavers, “kiss me like we were never apart.”

“‘M’kay.”

“Okay, Eds,” Steve sighs, crying softly, “okay.”

Though it pulls on all his injuries, Steve hefts them up off the ground. Grimaces at Eddie’s pained yelp. And moves one foot after the other. They can’t be running out of time, Steve tries to digest.

Because he just got his boy back. They can’t be. I can’t be, Steve believes, hefting Eddie’s nearly limp body through the portal. I won’t.

🕰️—————🕰️ Kiss Ask Game <3

[wexhappyxfew]

31. pinky swear from the touch prompt list please!! really i’d love this prompt for all three pairings but maybe carrie and dougie?

- @parajumpboots 💜💜

HI PERI!!!!! ( @parajumpboots ) 🥹 thank you so so much for stopping by and dropping this wonderful little prompt in - it was so fun to fill and write, especially for carrie and dougie!! they’re so fun to write and play around with in context! :) thank you again and please enjoy! <3

you pinky promise?

(a/n): this can be seen a bit as a part 2 to THIS piece i wrote a little while back, but they don’t have to be read together at all, so! please enjoy carrie and dougie and their antics hehe :)

Day was fading to night and she was still feeling like she'd been run over by a truck.

Everything ached, her head was woozy, her throat dry and scratchy, her nose running like it was something fierce, and everything just seemed so loud and in her face. It had been only a matter of time before she would get sick with something like this - even as a kid in school, she'd catch anything that ran through that building, whether from other kids or the seasonal changes of the weather.

And now, she was here, trapped in a cot in the Med-Bay, listening to distant screams from people in Triage or others in the sickness wing launching up lunch. Curled on her side, she stared lazily up towards the window where the sunset was starting to dance across the sky, a beautiful array of colors flickering across, mixed with clouds and nightfall, the blue and purple hues dotting with stars.

At least the sky was having a grand old time.

"How ya feeling, Bergie?" Carrie stiffened for a moment and then shifted, glancing up and over her shoulder to see Dougie. Dougie. Surprise-surprise.

"Okay." she answered, before turning back and resting her swimming head against the pillow and staring up at the sky again, "Queasy." She heard Dougie let a puff of air leave his lips in a response for laughter before a chair screeched against the floor and was pulled up at her side. Slowly, she looked towards him, sat in the chair, lighting up a cigarette and letting the smoke blow upwards.

"You serious?" she murmured.

"Ah, c'mon, just for a sec." he said, talking around the cigarette on his lip, as she rolled her eyes and adjusted onto her back, looking towards him.

"Just a sec, huh?" she said, "I bet even if I could pay you the largest sum of money in the world, that thing wouldn't leave your lips."

"Since when did you become so concerned with me and this cigarette?"

"Because I feel sick enough as it is, Dougie, and you're lighting it up in front of me." she said with a deadpan stare and he raised his hands in defense and then popped it off his lip and stubbed it out.

"Better?"

"You're a real sweetheart, ya know that?" Carrie murmured and he made a face, which she mocked back, "So. What's up?"

"Figured you wanted to hear about Lieutenant Bradshaw nearly throwing me overboard." Dougie offered rather expressively as his eyes grew wide and he held out his hands, "I promise, if you want to have a laugh, I am more than willing to offer it."

"At your own humiliating expense?"

"Precisely." Carrie laughed and then sighed, before smiling slightly.

"Well, go on, then," she urged him on, bringing the blanket up over her form a bit more, "you've got me invested now. There's no backing out."

"I can never back out of these sorts of things, can I?"

"Dougie. Story. Now." Dougie smirked and then leaned forward against his knees, before chuckling.

"Well, first-off, she called me Bergie I don't know how many fucking times-"

"That's because, uh, hello genius, I'm usually the bombardier here, alright-"

"Anyway," Dougie said, sending her a look, which made her smile slightly, "after calling me Bergie, I started making jokes back, ya know, try to give the feel that you probably give Lieutenant Bradshaw, when she basically has to hand the fort over."

"So you're saying I'm funny." Carrie said, with a soft smirk his way, "Thank you for that." Dougie looked to her and for a moment, they just watched each other, before they both broke out into laughter.

"That's a bit of a stretch, Bergie-"

"No, it ain't, you said it with a straight face!" Dougie looked to her and raised a brow and she raised her own back.

"Fine, yes, I realize that you usually try to get people laughing and I figured Lieutenant Bradshaw would appreciate it, so…." Dougie shrugged, "whatever makes you sleep at night."

"Asshole." Carrie murmured, before grinning, "So, what she'd say?" Dougie leaned back in his chair and then smiled wide.

"Well, we landed, right?" he said, "Bes is well, to be the nicest I can be, looking at me like I just bet on a losing horse, and then Lieutenant Bradshaw comes down from the cockpit and chews me out. Pretty sure Bes and Francis got front row seats to my funeral on that one." Carrie let out a bark of laughter and cough rather wetly, which wasn't the most pleasant sounding, but Dougie seemed to hardly care less, as he shook his head with a chuckle.

"God, she went 'Why do I have you doing Bergie impressions in my ear, Douglass! We're here to drop bombs, not put on a show for rich-fucks!'" Dougie said with a laugh and Carrie let out a string of laughter, her head falling back, just as the sight she got in her head,

"It was bad, I gotta admit."

"You really outdid yourself there." Carrie said with a snort, "C'mon, show me it." Dougie looked at her and raised a brow, and with what strength she had, she reached forward and punched his shoulder.

"Your impression of me, asshole," she said, "c'mon, I know it oughta be good enough for 25,000 feet in the air, huh?" Dougie looked to her and his face softened for a brief moment, before he gathered his bearings.

"'This shit tastes like it was cooked on the goddamn barnburner you call an engine!'" Dougie said, in a ridiculously accurate, rather high-pitched voice that made Carrie wheeze to the point all she could was cough wetly, and had to recover.

"I do not sound like that." she managed out, wetly coughing again and pointing a finger at home, "But that is absolutely something I'd say."

"See?" Dougie said leaning forward, grabbing the cup of water at the side of her cot and handing it to her, "No wonder I pissed off Lieutenant Bradshaw so much, she probably thought I was trying to make her lose her mind." She took the cup and drank some water down slowly, and then smiled.

"Got that right," Carrie said with a laugh, before catching his gaze, and placing down the water, "that or you hang around me far too often." Dougie smirked, watching her for a moment as it grew quiet between them. But then he shrugged and she looked away and he scratched his neck.

"Listen, I don't want to bother you much more, you're not feeling great so…." Dougie made to stand, but Carrie looked up at him, before reaching out and grabbing at his arm.

"It's okay," she said, her grip loosening on the sleeve of his A-2, as she realized how suddenly desperate she looked for him to stay (she didn't want to come across like that good Lord), "I'm not exactly tired yet, so….don't feel you have to go." Dougie looked down at her and then smiled softly, before she let go and he settled himself down into the chair again.

"Well, you better heal on up quicker then if I decide to hang around a little while longer, got that? I think Bes was gonna sucker-punch me in the nose of Silver Bullets," Dougie said, "she missed you." Carrie smiled warmly at the thought of Bessie and pulled the blanket tighter around her form and nodded.

"I can promise you, right now, not focusing on the fact I feel like shit is probably the best thing for me," she said, in a slightly joking tone, but genuinely honest one as well, "but I promise, alright?" Dougie watched her and then sent her a look.

"You pinky promise?" he asked her, holding out a pinky towards her. She stared between his pinky finger and his face and felt her shoulders loosen.

"Fine, yes," she said, looping her finger through his and smirking, "you just miss me out there in the chow line messing with your coffee that bad, huh?" Dougie looked at her, pulling a face in her direction.

"Where the hell would you even get that idea?" Dougie said, "And plus, when you do mess with my coffee, and let's just say it isn't entirely detrimental, adding more cream or sugar isn't exactly a negative in my sense."

"It's going to clog up your organs with shit." Carrie said and Dougie raised a brow.

"And here we are. Back again to Bergie Achterberg being so wonderfully concerned with my health," Dougie said, "you wanna write to my Ma? Ask for my birth forms too now, huh? That or you really are trying to get your karma out on me? Clogging up my organs with shit, huh?" Carrie watched him and then unlooped her pinky and sat back against the bed.

"Clogging up your organs with sugar and unhealthy stuff, Dougie," she said, before pulling the blanket up more, "must I repeat it?"

"Please do." Carrie cracked an eye open and watched as Dougie started chuckling and she did her best to hide her smirk.

"You absolute asshole."

"Oh c'mon, you love it."

Both her eyes opened and she looked over at him for a moment. They lingered in silence for a moment - somehow it always seemed to happen. One of them saying something that sent them both, separately reeling in a sense neither could quite compound in their minds. Especially when it was supposed to be something casual, something that rolled off the tongue and was in fact normal to say to friends.

But whatever was going on in this war and between them, it wasn't normal.

And something like that made them go silent.

Carrie watched him for a moment, as he seemed to smile, more to himself than her, and then looked at her.

"Get some rest, Bergie." he said softly, before leaning forward and patting the edge of the blanket where her you could see her legs outlined by the fabric, and then stood, "Need anything?"

Carrie looked at him rather quietly, suddenly feeling like a child again, watching him stand and ready to leave, except in a much more pleasant manner than anyone at home had ever been like. Because at home, it had been people leaving without explanation or well-wishes.

"Just some crackers maybe? Please?" she asked him quietly, her voice sounding more youthful than anything else in the past few days. Dougie smiled at her, that gentle grin rising on his face and he nodded.

"I'll be back, alright?" And she watched him give her a smile, before wandering away, finding a nurse and engaging in conversation.

And after that. He came back. With crackers.