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byechristopher · 29 days ago

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fuck'em all, but us.

– CHRIS STURNIOLO ANGST.

Author's note: Hello, little angels. I have been gone for months, but I've been wanting to write something for a while now. Excuse me for the hiatus. However, I still can not promise that I'll be consistent from now on – but i love you still. Do not copy/steal my work. :)

Warnings: HELLA LONG. This is almost 3.000 words, sweet Jesus. As usual, if you know me, I like writing about dark, angsty shit. Nothing too bad, but you know, mention of fights, blood, smoking, etc.

I caught Chris staring at me again, that same cold, unreadable expression on his face. He had a cigarette between his fingers, as usual. His eyes were like ice, and whenever they landed on me, I felt a chill run down my spine. He never says anything — just watches, arms crossed, jaw clenched, as if I’ve done something to offend him without even knowing it. I don’t understand what I did to make him look at me that way, like he’s barely holding back some hidden resentment. And yet, every time I catch him watching, I can’t help but wonder what he’s really thinking.

I’ve seen him with a few other people. He’s not exactly warm with them either, but there’s something different when he talks to them, a sort of casual ease. With me, it’s like he’s built up walls — high, thick ones, and I’m just standing outside, banging on the gates. And every now and then, I think I catch a glimpse of something behind them, something vulnerable and unexpected, but it’s gone before I can be sure.

Chris was my older brother's closest friend, and he has been ever since they were little kids. No one ever got as close to him as my brother did. Whereas when it came to me, he was rather cold; I never understood why.

My thoughts were roughly interrupted by my brother's hand, which took a strand of my hair and pulled on it to annoy me.

"Ow, you fucking asshole!"

"Hey, wake the fuck up. I said me and Chris are leaving." I rolled my eyes and looked at Chris one more time, seeing that he still had that same look on his face.

Deciding to ignore it one more time, "yeah, bye. God." I said and grabbed the remote to switch on the TV.

I didn’t want to watch anything in particular; I’d just rather avoid looking at my brother’s best friend once again.

"Where the hell are you?"

A notification popped up and before I read the sender's name, I already knew it was Fred. My ex.

Of course, I ignored it, but deep down, I knew he was losing it. Ever since we broke up, he’s been acting stranger and stranger — showing up at places he knows I’ll be, sending messages that alternate between apologies and accusations. It’s like he can’t decide if he wants me back or wants to make me regret ever knowing him. I kept telling myself he’d get over it eventually, that he just needed time. But lately, his behavior had me on edge, and I began wondering if he’d ever really let go.

I’d never go back to him; that’s something I’m certain of. He crossed too many lines, left too many scars I can’t forget. But now, it’s like he’s everywhere—lurking just out of sight, always one step behind me. I feel his presence even when he’s not there, a constant, heavy reminder that he’s still watching, still obsessing.

I’ve started checking over my shoulder more often, catching myself dreading the sound of my phone vibrating with yet another message from him. I tell myself it’s just paranoia, that he’s all talk and no real threat. But some small part of me can’t shake the fear that this time, he might actually be out of control.

And I was right to be cautious. Because he finally crossed the line I’d been hoping he’d stay behind. When I got home, my stomach twisted as I saw it; my car, with its tires slashed and a deep scratch running along the side. It was unmistakably his work; I’d ignored his messages, blocked his number, and now he was trying to force my attention.

My hands shook as I took in the damage, a mix of anger and dread flooding through me. How could he stoop this low? He knew that car was everything to me, the one thing I’d saved for and bought on my own. The memories of late nights spent driving to clear my head, the freedom it gave me — he’d tainted all of it in a single, desperate act. I wanted to scream, to call him and let him know just how furious I was. But I knew that’s exactly what he wanted.

He wanted a reaction, wanted me to feel trapped and afraid, wanted to pull me back into his twisted little game. But I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. Instead, I took a deep breath, locked my jaw, and stared at my car.

"What.. the fuck is that?" My brother's voice echoed in my ears and I turned around to see that he was with Chris.

"Fred. Fucking Fred." I screamed, not able to contain my anger.

"That bastard.. I will fucking kill him." He said and got closer to the car to see the damage, "calm down" was what Chris said to him.

Chris looked shocked and angry, he walked towards me, "this motherfucker lives nearby?"

"Yeah… just a few blocks away." I sat down on the ground, pulling my legs to my chest and hugging them tightly. I looked up at Chris, my voice trembling, "that was my fucking car..." a tear slipped down my cheek, and in that moment, I couldn’t tell if it was from anger or sadness.

Chris clenched his jaw, and I felt a rush of warmth as his hand reached down to cup my cheek. His touch was soft, gentle, and completely disarming. I couldn’t remember the last time someone had held me like that, with such tenderness. He looked down at me with a promising expression, his eyes filled with determination. “I’ll see what I can do about your car. I might have a friend who can fix it.”

His thumb brushed softly against my skin, and I felt a flutter in my stomach, a strange mix of comfort and something deeper. The way he touched me sent a shiver down my spine, pulling me out of my anger for just a moment. In such a chaotic moment, I couldn’t help but think it was nice seeing him like this for once. I stayed silent and leaned into his hand, seeking that warmth, desperate for a distraction from the whirlwind of emotions coursing through me.

I was rather quiet the following days – I didn't want to go out of the house much. Not because this asshole scared me with what he did, but because that car meant a lot to me. Me and my brother lived by ourselves, and that car was the only thing I could call my own. Fred would pay and I'd make sure of that.

I was alone in my room getting ready for work, trying to drown out the chaos of the previous days when I heard the front door slam shut. My heart raced with curiosity and unease. Just as I was about to head downstairs, my brother’s voice boomed through the house, cutting through the silence, “what the hell happened to you?”

I sprang to my feet, instinctively rushing toward the sound of the voices. As I reached the living room, I froze at the sight before me. Chris was leaning against the wall, blood dripping from a cut on his eyebrow and cheek, and staining his shirt. My brother stood in front of him, fists clenched, a mixture of concern and fury etched across his face.

“Chris, what the actual fuck!” my brother exclaimed, his voice a mix of anger and worry. Chris turned his gaze toward me, and in that moment, everything else faded. Despite the blood and bruises, there was a softness in his eyes that held me captive, a silent plea that made my heart race.

“I’m fine,” Chris replied, though his voice was strained. He shifted slightly, not even a single emotion of fear, or pain, nothing. If anything, he had a pleased expression on his face, I could almost make out a smile. My brother continued to glare at him, demanding answers, but Chris seemed unwilling to give them to him.

“What happened?” I asked, stepping closer, my heart pounding. Chris’s gaze flickered back to my brother, and for a brief moment, I felt a wave of unease wash over me. I could sense that whatever had happened involved more than just a simple altercation, and the tension in the air was thick with unspoken words.

"Nothing happened. I just shouldn't have gone to Mike's. There was another fight and I got involved." My brother seemed to know what he was talking about, because his whole body language changed, softened.

"I told you, asshole. You should never go to Mike's. This bar is a shithole." He went off to the kitchen, probably going to grab something to clean the blood.

I walked closer to Chris, my sweaty fingers digging into my leather bag. I reached out hesitantly, my fingers trembling as I brushed against his cheek, feeling the warmth of his skin contrasted by the coolness of the blood that trickled down from the cut above his eyebrow.

“Chris,” I whispered, my voice barely above a breath, my heart racing. “Does it hurt a lot?” My fingertips lingered on his skin, tracing the line of the wound as if I could somehow erase the pain with my touch. His eyes locked onto mine, a storm of emotions swirling within them — vulnerability, frustration, and a glimmer of something deeper that sent shivers down my spine.

He winced slightly at my touch but didn’t pull away. Instead, he leaned into my hand, a subtle gesture that felt almost intimate in the tense air between us.

“Not much.” he said, his voice low and rough, but it was the way he looked at me that stole my breath. There was a rawness in his gaze, as if he was baring a part of himself that he’d kept hidden, and in that moment, everything else faded away.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” I asked, my thumb brushing lightly over his jawline, searching his eyes for reassurance. The moment felt suspended in time, a fragile bubble where nothing else mattered but the two of us. His expression softened, and I could see the flicker of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips despite the pain.

“I will be,” he replied, his gaze steady and unwavering, filled with a mixture of gratitude and something that felt like longing. It was as if, in that brief exchange, we shared an unspoken promise — a connection that transcended the chaos around us. My heart raced, and for the first time since the chaos began, I felt a sense of calm in the storm.

Having to go to work and leave him like this pained me, but I had to go, "I have to go to work.." I explained.

"Mhm. D'you want me to take you to work?" He said and I sighed.

"No. Of course not. Stay here, with my brother. I'll see you.. later." I nodded my head and said goodbye one last time before leaving.

The night air was cool against my skin as I walked home from work, each step feeling heavier than the last. The streetlights cast a faint glow on the pavement, illuminating the shadows that seemed to stretch endlessly in the darkness. My thoughts were consumed by what had happened — I couldn’t shake the image of him standing there, bloodied yet resilient, leaning into my touch.

My heart raced at the memory, but alongside it was a gnawing concern. What kind of trouble had he gotten himself into? It was like him to end up in trouble, but I'd never actually see him like this.

As I approached my apartment, a sudden impulse gripped me. I didn’t want to go home and drown in my thoughts; I wanted to see Chris again. I needed to know he was okay, to check on him in a way that felt more personal than just a casual conversation. With each step toward his place, a mix of anxiety and anticipation bubbled within me.

I turned the corner, the familiar path leading me to his apartment building. The windows were dimly lit, casting a warm glow that made me feel a little lighter despite the weight of everything else. I hesitated for a moment, wondering if I was overstepping or if he’d even want to see me after everything that had happened. But the thought of him alone, nursing his wounds and possibly replaying the day in his mind, pushed me forward.

I climbed the stairs, my heart pounding louder with each step. When I reached his door, I raised my hand and knocked softly, the sound echoing in the silence of the hallway. What if he wasn’t ready to see me? But as I waited, I couldn’t help but hope that he’d open the door, that he’d let me in — not just to his apartment, but to whatever was going on in his life.

"What.. are you doing here?" He furrowed his eyebrows, a little band-aid covering the wound on his eyebrow now, a cigarette between his lips.

"Sorry, Chris.. I couldn't.. stop thinking about you. I mean.. what happened to you.. today." I was nervous, I couldn't quite understand why.

He cleared his throat and stepped aside to let me in, and of course, I wasted no time. I sat down on his couch and he sat down beside me. So many years of knowing him, and I've never actually been inside his house, so I took a quick look around, trying to take in everything I could.

"I'm fine. I told you." He insisted and sipped from his beer that was on the coffee table, his cigarette nearly done now.

"Your cheek is swollen, you didn't even bother putting some ice on it. Geez." I huffed and got up to go to the kitchen, opening the freezer and wrapping some ice cubes in a towel.

I walked back to him and sat closer to him, cupping his cheek and gently pressing the ice on his other cheek. Only then did I realise how close we were, I could feel his breath fanning over my lips, his dark blue eyes staring into mine.

"My fiend. Zack. He will help you with the car." He whispered and I whispered back, "thank you.. so much."

The sight of him so vulnerable, the blood still seeping from the cut and the way he tried to mask the pain, made something deep within me stir. I forgot about everything else — the fight, the worry, the uncertainty of where we stood. All I could focus on was him and the way he looked at me, those fierce eyes filled with a mix of gratitude and something more that made my pulse quicken.

I could see the way he held back a flinch, how he tried to remain stoic despite the pain. I felt the heat rising in my cheeks, a flush of desire that surprised me. I wanted to kiss him, to close the distance between us and erase the hurt with something softer, something intimate.

As I leaned closer, his gaze flickered to mine, and in that moment, everything else faded away.

“Chris,” I murmured, my voice barely above a whisper, as I hesitated just inches from his face. I could sense that he was just as caught up in the moment as I was, his eyes darkening with something that mirrored my own feelings.

Then, before I could overthink it, I closed the distance between us, pressing my lips against his. The kiss was soft at first, tentative, as if we were both afraid of what this moment meant. But as I felt him respond, his hand gently cupping my neck, deepening the kiss, I knew I had crossed a line that I never wanted to return from.

The kiss was hungry, needy. I needed to catch my breath. As we pulled away for a breath, my heart raced, and I felt a rush of conflicting emotions, “this is so wrong..” I whispered, my forehead resting against his.

“I know,” Chris replied, his voice thick with desire. He searched my eyes, a mix of guilt and longing swirling between us, "I cant stop now.”

“I shouldn’t be here,” I breathed, feeling the warmth of his body so close. Yet I leaned in again, capturing his lips with mine once more.

He pulled back slightly, looking conflicted, “what if your brother finds out?”

“I don’t.. care right now,” I admitted, my hands threading through his hair as I kissed him again, the heat of the moment overwhelming any reservations I had, “I just want to be here with you.”

“I shouldn’t want this,” he murmured against my lips, his breath mingling with mine, “but I do.”

“Me too,” I confessed, pulling him closer, lost in the moment, “I can’t stop.”

“Then don’t,” he whispered, his eyes darkening with intensity, “don't think about anything else.”

With that, we dove back into the kiss, the world outside fading as we lost ourselves in each other.

As I left Chris's apartment that night, a rush of exhilaration filled me, and I realised that the unexpected had happened; my ex hadn’t reached out at all since the incident with the car. And for the first time in weeks, I felt a weight lift from my shoulders.

A few days later, while I was passing by my brother's room, I heard him talking on the phone. Curiosity piqued, I paused outside the door, trying to listen in.

“I can’t believe you did that, man,” my brother said, his tone a mix of disbelief and admiration, “how did you even find his place?”

“This bitch peed his pants when he saw me.” Chris replied, his voice low but amused, “it wasn't that hard, just had to ask around.”

Something shifted inside of me, realizing that Chris had taken matters into his own hands.

“You know, you didn’t have to do that, I was planning on destroying his car instead", my brother said.

“But I wanted to,” Chris replied firmly, and I could hear him chuckle at what my brother said next.

I stepped back, my heart racing. So, it was Chris who had put an end to my ex’s harassment. I couldn’t help but smile, feeling a warmth spread through me. I knew then that my feelings for Chris were deeper than I had allowed myself to acknowledge, and knowing he had my back made me feel safer than ever.

I found myself running back to his apartment again, right then and there, running up the stairs of his building as if someone was chasing me. I knocked on the door, loud enough for him to open it quickly, worry written in his eyes.

"What–"

And this time I didn't let him finish. With tears in my eyes, I pressed my lips against his and lost myself in his arms.

⠀

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lovebugism · 9 months ago

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I positively adore steeb and shy!reader 🥹 can I please request steve comforting shy!reader after her first experience with the upside down? he just vows to take care of her?

ty for requesting!! — steve takes care of you when you won't let anyone touch you after fighting vecna (shy!fem!r, hurt/comfort, friends in love, cw for mentions of bruises/injuries, 0.9k)

Hawkins Memorial Hospital smells overwhelmingly of bleach and very faintly of copper. You think the last bit might just be you, though. The scent of metallic blood and alternate-dimension muck hasn’t quite left you — even though you’ve scrubbed yourself raw in the shower, three times over.

You sit in Max’s vacant room while she’s out for surgery. Everyone else is either sleeping off the grief or getting themselves checked out. You can’t do either — too plagued by nightmares and too frightened at what the doctors might find if they look at you too close.

Steve finds you in the dim room, lit only by natural sunlight, standing in front of the small square mirror against the wall. You get lost in the splotchy bruises on your face until he knocks gently on the cracked open door.

“Hey…” he greets, gently to keep from startling you.

You swallow down the fleeting panic. “Oh. Hi.”

“I, uh, I brought you some ice,” he tells you and steps further into the room, waving a plastic bag of chipped ice in his hand. “I saw you flinch when you wrapped up Dustin’s ankle. I figured your shoulder was bothering you…”

He’s visibly shy, but you’re impossibly shier. The deafening quiet and the proximity of your bodies are equally suffocating. You cower beneath the weight of it, wringing your clammy, cut-up hands together. “I’m— I’m fine. Thanks…”

Steve flashes you a wavering smile, lopsided and perfectly pink. He forces a laugh through an aching chest because you haven’t talked about what happened since you got back. He figured it was normal at first — that you were still grappling with the whole fighting monsters thing, but you haven’t let anyone touch you in days. The doctors have been begging to look you over since you got here.

“I just… I wanna help,” he confesses.

A pleading look swims in the deep honey of his eyes. It becomes impossible to turn him down. You’d have an easier time fighting Vecna, you think.

You swallow hard. “It’s… It’s my back,” you shrug, then grimace when the movement makes you ache.

You’d fallen through the decrepit floor of the Creel house and landed hard in the basement. The vines slithering there broke your fall. For the most part, anyway. The damn things would have swallowed you whole if Steve hadn’t been brave enough to jump in after you.

“Can I see?” he wonders.

You hesitate for a moment. “I haven’t really— looked at it yet,” you murmur with a pained look twisting your features. You turn around when Steve approaches you. You feel his warm fingers along your back, knuckles skimming over your skin as he lifts your shirt with a slow and gentle touch — giving you ample time to stop him if you wanted.

When you don’t, he raises the fabric to the middle of your spine. The entire canvas of your back is darkened with a hardly healing bruise. The sight of it makes him grimace. “Jeez…” he mumbles before he means to.

Your brows pinch. “Is it bad?”

“We’re gonna need a lot more ice,” he answers with a forced laugh.

You giggle at his half-joke. The pretty sound makes him smile.

“You should probably see a doctor—”

“No,” you interject with a firm shake of your head, sterner than he’s ever seen you.

“But it’s— It’s kinda gnarly—”

“I’m fine,” you insist, despite the bruises darkening your skin. You turn back around to face him and avert your gaze at the pitiful look he gives you. You cross your arms over your chest and bite back a wince. “I’m okay, Steve. There’s other people to worry about right now.”

Max, for one. And all the rest of the kids for another. And the rest of the town who lost something in the earthquakes. You got off pretty lucky, all things considered — just a couple of bruises. And a cut or two. And some pretty gnarly nightmares. But that’s it.

Steve’s lip quirks in a sympathetic smile. “Here. C’mon. Sit down.”

He urges you to the made-up hospital bed with a hand hovering over your lower back. Your perch on the side of it, one leg curled beneath you, as Steve slides in behind you. He raises the hem of your shirt and presses the icepack against your shoulder blade, where the bruises seem darkest. His touch is gentle and feather-light, almost comically so. The bag of ice just barely grazes you.

“Is this okay?” he asks.

You nod. “Yeah… Thanks.”

His hand grows heavier when his touch becomes more confident. The stinging of the cold soothes the deep ache in your shoulder.

“No problem,” he says before swallowing down the nerves crawling up his throat. “I’m always here, you know? If you ever need anything.”

You exhale a sharp laugh through your nose. “I feel like you have better things to do than take care of me,” you murmur, wringing your hands into a knot in your lap.

“Well, I don’t.”

“I find that hard to believe.”

“What?” he scoffs. “That I’d rather dote on you than do anything else?”

“Yeah,” you laugh and shoot him a playful look over your shoulder. You smile when you find him already grinning at you.

“Well, believe it, alright? ‘Cause you’re stuck with me now.”

“Am I?”

“Yep,” he answers, popping the p.

“We fought monsters together, and now we’re bonded for life?”

“Exactly.”

You flash him another glance, eyes glittering as you bite back a beaming grin. “Sounds miserable,” you tease.

Steve nods with a crooked smile. “Absolutely horrible.”

#published by bug #steve harrington x reader #stranger things x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #stranger things #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfic #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fanfic #st drabbles #stevie drabble

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just-my-latest-hyperfixation · 5 months ago

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Another celebration ficlet. The ask for this one somehow got deleted from the inbox, but I know it was sent by @weirdandabsurd42 - hope you enjoy! 🥰

On being seen

Rated: T

Words: 990

Tags: Post-Vecna; Injury; Hospitals; Hair loss; Referenced parental death; Hurt/comfort; Steve Harrington is a sweetheart; Pre-Steddie

“Brought you these,” Dustin says, stacking some books on the bedside table. Eddie spots The Hobbit at the top of the pile. “They’re mine, but you can keep them until …”

“Until what?” Eddie asks. His voice is a thin rasp, grating on shredded vocal cords. “Until they unearth my home from that interdimensional sinkhole? Fat fucking chance, huh?”

Dustin swallows, hiding his face under his cap. Guilt churns in Eddie’s gut like acid. His left hand - the one that’s not hooked to the beeping machines - flies up to fiddle with his hair, only to come up blank.

Oh, right. They cut it off during the surgery. It’s gone, just like half his face and jaw.

“You should go,” he says. “s getting dark and your mom will want you home.”

Dustin looks up, eyes bright. “But-”

Eddie shakes his head as well as the bandages will let him. “C’mon, I need my beauty sleep. I promise I won’t go anywhere.”

Dustin hesitates and Eddie’s afraid he’ll start to argue, or worse, plead. But then, the kid sighs, rising from his chair.

“Okay. See you tomorrow.”

Eddie raises his hand for a wave, pausing when he catches sight of his bare fingers.

“Henderson?”

Dustin turns in the door, face gaunt in the sterile light of the hospital corridor.

“You haven't heard about…?”

Eddie wiggles his hand. Dustin’s expression morphs into one of regret.

“Sorry,” he says. “I asked the nurses, but there were so many emergencies. Maybe they got thrown in the trash or something.”

Eddie nods. Tries to tug at his hair again. “Yeah. Okay.”

Dustin shuffles uncomfortably. “Listen, I could-”

“I said it's okay, Henderson. Good night.”

Dustin sighs. “Night, Eddie.”

The beeping of the machines follows Eddie into his dreams, where it turns into the shrieks of the swarm.

When he startles awake, it's dark outside his window.

There's a figure in the chair beside his bed, backlit by the heart monitor.

“Fuck, Henderson,” Eddie groans. “I told you to go home.”

The figure jerks upright with a snort.

“Shit,” it mumbles. “Sorry, ‘m awake.”

It’s not Dustin.

Eddie freezes, terror sinking into his every limb like lead. The noise of the machines drowns under the roar of his own blood in his ears.

“Hey,” says the figure, voice low and soothing, and he realizes a bit belatedly that he made a sound - a raw, terrified thing, like a trapped animal. “Hey, it’s okay. Eddie, it’s me. It’s Steve.”

A hand reaches for his. It’s warm and strong and so much bigger than his own. He jerks away so violently he almost pulls the iv-cord from his arm.

“No,” he rasps. “Don’t touch me. Get away from me.”

Steve flinches, hand falling limply into his own lap. Eddie can’t see his expression in the dark. Doesn’t want to see. Doesn’t want Steve to see him, not like this. Hurt and bare and small with nothing left to hide behind.

Neither of them speaks or moves for a while, the slowly calming heart monitor the only sound in the room.

“I’m sorry,” Steve says at length. “I just … I’ll go. Just wanted to give these back.”

He rummages for something in his pocket, then holds out his open palm - carefully, like an offering. Eddie’s breath catches in his ruined throat.

“Where’d you find these?”

“Um,” Steve shuffles in his seat. “Saw them lying on the nurse’s desk the other day. Sorry I didn’t return them sooner, things have been sorta crazy out there.”

Eddie doesn’t say anything, just snatches the rings. He attempts to slip them on, but he can’t use his right hand, and his fingers haven't stopped trembling since he first woke up. Nerve damage, the doctors said. He fumbles and drops the rings, but Steve is there to scoop them up before they can fall to the ground.

“Here, let me.”

Eddie watches, frozen in place, heart in his throat, as Steve slips the rings onto the fingers of his left hand. Cross on the index finger, boar in the middle, skull on his ring finger. His breath tickles the skin of Eddie’s wrist.

“This one's special, right?”

Eddie blinks out of his stupor. Steve has taken a hold of his right hand, infinitely careful to not disturb the needles and cords, and slipped the last ring back on. The delicate one with the dark, oval stone.

Eddie nods. His voice won't obey him, but this time, it has nothing to do with his injuries.

“My mom's.”

Steve hums in understanding, and Eddie knows he doesn’t need to say more.

“Tell me about her?”

Not a request. An offer. Eddie squints at Steve’s shadowy face as he settles back in his chair.

“Why?”

Steve shrugs. “You’re one of us. I’d like to know more about you.”

Eddie can’t help it, he needs to laugh. It burns in his throat and sends tears to his eyes. He tries to tug a strand of hair in front of his face to hide them and grasps only at thin air.

“Not sure what to tell you, big boy. Not a whole lot left of me, is there?”

“You’re brave and kind and tough,” Steve says, and Eddie’s mouth goes dry. “You’re great with the kids, and an amazing musician, and you were willing to die for a town that hates your guts. I think that’s a whole lot. The outside stuff will come back.”

Some of it already has, Eddie thinks, fingertips rubbing against the familiar shape of his rings.

“Her name was Elizabeth,” he says. “She died when I was seven.”

Steve listens for a long while, not interrupting once. He doesn’t switch on the light. He doesn’t need to, Eddie thinks. He feels more seen than he has in a long while, sitting here in the dark, allowing Steve to get to know him.

Somehow, it isn’t as scary as he thought it would be.

More celebration ficlets

#steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steddie fanfic #steddie brainrot #fanfiction writer #fanfiction #fanfic #my writing #hype's 1k follower ficlets

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cherryberry444 · 3 months ago

Text

Tryna Smoke

pairing: luke castellan x ares!reader

summary: in which you share a blunt with your sworn enemy

warning: kissing, sexual innuendos, a whole lotta weed

contains: flirting, smoking, banter, cocky luke

word count: 1562

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

You couldn't fucking stand Luke Castellan. As cliche as it may sound, it was absolutely true. He was a pain in your ass, the bain of your existence. He never ceased to find a way to ruin your day, every day, all summer. Everyone knew it, they were well aware that the two of you never did see eye to eye. And the fact that the two of you were the strongest swordsmen in camp sure didn't help your rilvary.

Luke was an asshole, that was a given, but you also just found him so so irritating. He was way too cocky, although, if you were honest you could say it was valid. He was gorgeous, even after he came back from his quest with that nasty scar on his eye, he was still gorgeous, strong and an incredible fighter. But so were you. If you were a man, you're sure you'd be worshipped just like he was. It's not that you weren't respected or praised for your attributes, but it just wasn't the same.

You'd never admit it, but you were jealous of all the attention Luke got. It just didnt seem fair, you were the daughter of Ares for crying out loud, not Luke. Hermes' kids were worthless bums compared to your likeness, but not him, never him.

You had just finished training for the day and you needed a breather. You went and took a warm shower before walking to a little spot between the lake and the woods. You squeeze your damp hair with the towel you brought out there in hopes it doesnt drip all over your camp half blood shirt. As youre walking towards the spot you smell something familiar but refuse to believe your senses.

You turn the corner to see none other than the bane of your existence, Luke Castellan sitting there and even more shocking, with a blunt in hand. He quickly scuffles at the sound of footsteps before realizing it was just you. He lets out a sigh.

"Shit! Y/n, you scared the shit out of me!"

"Luke Castellan? Scared? You must be up to no good" you tease. "What are you doing out here?"

"What am I doing out here? What are you doing out here?" he retorts.

"This is my secret spot" you both say at once before a moment of silence begins.

You squint.

"How is it your secret spot if it's my secret spot?" you ask.

He shrugs. "Must not be much of a secret" he says before taking a puff.

"How the hell did you sneak that in here.."

"I have my ways.." he says before taking a puff.

You roll your eyes. "You're such a criminal"

"Mm say it again im close" he teases, closing his eyes.

You scoff. "How the hell have I never seen you out here?"

"Beats me..I'm out here pretty often"

"Hm..I can't believe you're brave enough to do this out in the open"

"Please everyone's sleep, I'm not stupid"

"Yeah sure"

He scoffs. "Can I have my peace and quiet now?"

"Why should you? If anything I should snitch"

"You wouldn't.." he looks up.

You shrug. "You're right I wouldn't"

He smiles slightly, shaking his head before smoking again.

"You wanna hit this?" he asks casually, surprising you.

"Are you offering me a blunt Luke Castellan?" you walk closer towards him.

He chuckles. "Fuck no" he coughs. "Im offering you a hit, sweetheart. Dont get ahead of yourself."

You roll your eyes. "Indica or sativa?"

"Indica, of course"

You smile softly, going to sit next to him. "Pass it" he hands it over.

You take a couple hits before he asks, "So you smoke?"

You pass the blunt back, clearing your throat. "Yeah..I just haven't smoked..Shit, since I got here"

Luke laughs softly. "Man I been smoking here for years" he says before taking a hit and blowing the smoke out.

"That explains the stupidity"

"Hey! Don't bite the hand that feeds you!"

"Pass!" you demand before he obeys.

"So fucking demanding" he rolls his eyes.

"I have to be"

"Says who?"

"I just do"

"What, cus of your father? The gods aren't the only thing that matters you know"

"Shut up Castellan"

"I'm serious"

"You're high"

He shrugs and frowns. "Thats pretty likely"

You roll your eyes with a smile.

"Are you high yet?"

"Not enough" you groan

"Then keep on, I'll be generous tonight"

"What a gentleman" you say sarcastically, taking another hit.

"You know, I could be quite charming if you didn't hate me so much"

"I know you're charming, its why I hate you."

He scoffs before groaning. "You wanna be different so bad"

"Why cause I don't worship the ground you walk on like everyone else at camp?"

"No one worships me"

"Oh please" you scoff

"Can you blame them? I'm incredible"

"Youre an ass!"

"Is this how you treat the guy that grants you free weed?"

"Just stating a fact is all"

He rolls his eyes. "If im such an ass why are you here with me?"

"For free weed! Duh, c'mon!"

"Nah, youre not that shallow. I think youre tolerating me y/l/n"

"The only thing I'm tolerating is this blunt" you joke.

"Yeah but youre sitting here, close to me, late at night, by the lake, looking into my eyes" he begins

"And you came out here with your hair all damp and.."

"Luke what are you saying" you laugh lightly.

"I'm saying its kinda sultry dont you think?" he suggests.

You scoff. "In your dreams, Castellan"

"You have no idea" he says in a way that kinda makes you believe it.

You squint. "You are high"

"Yeah, but.."

"But?"

He turns more towards you. "Well..I just think youre too harsh on me y/n. I think you should give me a chance"

"A chance at what, sword boy?" you tease.

He smiles. "A chance to show you why you shouldn't hate me so much"

"Oh yeah? And how do you plan to do that?"

He shrugs. "A few kind gestures, starting off with the weed obviously"

"Luke, we've always hated each other, why change that?"

"I've never hated you y/n" he says before blowing smoke out.

You squint.

"I've never hated you. I've always respected you, been impressed by you.. Yeah we have our banter but..I've never hated you"

"Oh"

"You just hate me"

"Oh"

"Finally at a lost for words? The world stopped spinning" he jokes

"I just assumed.."

"You assumed wrong"

"Well now I look horrible"

He laughs. "Youve never looked horrible a day in your life. Hey..Have you ever shotgunned?"

You laugh nervously. "What? Like with weed?"

He laughs. "Yeah, with weed princess"

"I haven't...It's kind of intimate, no?"

He shrugs. "I guess..You wanna try it?"

You tilt your head. "You tryna fuck me Castellan?"

"What?!" he laughs nervously. "No I... Do you trust me?"

You scoff. "Fuck no"

He rolls his eyes. "Alright well..Do you want to or no?"

You must be high by now because you nodded your head and said "Yes"

"Cool" he smiles nervously. "It'll be cool I promise, it's only weird if you make it weird" he moves closer to you.

"Alright" you take a nervous breath, wondering what's gotten into you.

"Alright" he says lightly pushing your hair out of your face and softly pulling your face close to his.

"Keep your mouth open"

You laugh. "Im gonna look stupid"

"Not possible, c'mon" he says before taking a long hit.

He holds in the smoke before tilting his mouth towards yours and blowing the smoke into your mouth slowly, his lips so increduously close to yours. You close your eyes and consume the smoke, trying to inhale it after before breaking into a coughing fit.

Luke laughs, but pats your back as you let it out.

"Oh gods, that was a lot" you wheeze

"You alright?"

"Think im fine now..Um that's embarrassing"

"It's alright it was your first time" he rubs your back softly.

"It was definetly something...At one point I thought we were gonna-"

"Kiss?" Luke finishes your sentence.

You blink fast.

"You want a kiss, y/n l/n?"

Suddenly youre flustered.

"Don't tease me.."

"I'm serious, why not?"

"Um cus I hate you?!"

"Yeah but you also think I'm sexy, huh?"

"No I d-"

"Y/n, be truthful."

"Shut up"

"Make me"

"Oh gods Luke"

"I could get used to the sound of that" he moves closer. "Tell me you don't want this and I'll move away"

You grow quiet.

"Hm" he smirks slightly.

"You're crazy, Castellan"

"Crazy for you"

"Quit flirting"

"Not flirting..I mean it" he cups your cheek.

"Luke what is happening?" you ask.

"Im confessing my feelings for you y/n that's what's happening. I like you, I always have."

"Luke..."

"And it might be the weed talking but I'd really like to kiss you right now"

You lose all control of your body and plant a soft, chaste kiss on his lips, leaving him shocked.

"Thank you, but honestly sweetheart, is it ok if I kiss you a little more than that?"

You nod before he leans in and kisses you sweet and long, syncing your lips together slowly.

"Thank god for marijuana" he jokes after he breaks the kiss.

#luke castellan #luke castellan oneshot #percy jackson #pjo series #camp half blood #luke castellan x reader #smoking #tw weed

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goodnightmemes · 4 days ago

Text

AGATHA ALL ALONG SENTENCE STARTERS

❛ You don't seem like yourself. ❜

❛ If you wanna be in control, you can be. ❜

❛ Is this really how you see yourself? ❜

❛ Do you remember why you hate me? ❜

❛ The things that you're roasting me for are the things that make me dangerous. ❜

❛ How long have I been here? ❜

❛ Call me "nosy," I'll cut out your tongue. ❜

❛ Can you put on some clothes? 'Cause you... 'Cause you're naked. ❜

❛ Do you remember pain? It kind of tickles, doesn't it? ❜

❛ Maybe I can't kill you, but I can make you wish you were dead. ❜

❛ I am not the only one that wants to see you dead. ❜

❛ Ugh! It really warms the heart. ❜

❛ You don't have a heart. ❜

❛ Be sure to tell the vengeance-seekers I said hi. ❜

❛ That's why I saved you from the spell you were under. ❜

❛ Wherever you are, a coven there shall be. ❜

❛ I feel really optimistic about this. ❜

❛ So you're a bit of a kook. Every witch has their process. ❜

❛ Witches like you are the reason people think we poison apples, and steal children, and eat babies. ❜

❛ Don't you miss the glory days? ❜

❛ The path you're currently on leads nowhere. ❜

❛ Hey! Where do you keep your jade eggs? I'm fresh out of marbles, and my pelvic floor is all over the place. ❜

❛ I haven't seen you since I made a really pointed effort to never run into you again.❜

❛ Historically, we as a group don't do well in courtrooms. ❜

❛ People like you are dangerous. ❜

❛ Are there any real witches in the house? ❜

❛ What a team of rejects. ❜

❛ This is just a really, really, really horrible party. ❜

❛ It's giving "middle-aged second chance at love" vibes and I'm here for it. ❜

❛ Okay, so a witch is really just another name for a bad girl, is that right? ❜

❛ I'm not saying that I wanna join the club or anything, but I would drink the blood of a virgin if it would smooth out some of these wrinkles. ❜

❛ So the hallucinations seem chill. ❜

❛ I can't protect you! ❜

❛ I do not wanna die here. This is not where I die. ❜

❛ They can take your power, but they can't take your knowledge. ❜

❛ I didn't think you had it in you. ❜

❛ We were supposed to look out for each other, but we didn't. That was our fatal mistake. ❜

❛ I wish we could go home. ❜

❛ People can't be replaced. ❜

❛ Are we in trouble? Like, more than we were ten minutes ago? ❜

❛ Honestly, I don't know how to feel. Do I hate her? Or do I want her phone number? ❜

❛ I'm feeling impatient. I'm feeling like I wanna cause some damage. ❜

❛ Once vengeance is loosed, you can't reel it back in. ❜

❛ The only way to end a curse is to face it. ❜

❛ Sad is better than angry. ❜

❛ You don't have to know a person's name to know who they are. ❜

❛ Are you really defending a noted serial killer, you creepy lurker? ❜

❛ The moral of the story, kids, is always finish what you started. Also, mercy is overrated. ❜

❛ Who better to commune with the dead than someone who's put so many in the grave? ❜

❛ I mean, or we could just slit her throat. ❜

❛ But we were getting along, weren't we? We were clicking. There was unity. ❜

❛ She's possessed! For real this time! ❜

❛ I hate ghosts. ❜

❛ Why do you hate me still?❜

❛ You were born evil. ❜

❛ Please take me with you. ❜

❛ She was protecting you. But you don't deserve it. ❜

❛ I couldn't... I couldn't control it. ❜

❛ Death comes for us all. ❜

❛ You're so much like your mother. ❜

❛ We love you more than we could ever hope to communicate in human words. ❜

❛ You don't need to be a psychic to see that you're a good egg. ❜

❛ Enjoy the now, baby. It's the only thing that's certain. ❜

❛ Nothing in my life has felt normal until I met you. ❜

❛ I want you to know the real me. ❜

❛ You're so adorably trusting. ❜

❛ Word to the wise, don't go sniffing around there. ❜

❛ You seriously don't know what kind of crazy that lady eats for breakfast. ❜

❛ I panicked, so I ran. ❜

❛ Could we, like, maybe not, with the physical violence? ❜

❛ Power doesn't interest me. ❜

❛ Yeah. Well, what you did was ehhh … but life goes on. Yours, anyway. ❜

❛ I mean, I've killed...uh...my share. But you don't see it holding me back. ❜

❛ Don't you dare feel guilty about your talent. You survived. ❜

❛ So you broke the rules. Big deal. That's what kept you alive. That's what makes you special. ❜

❛ I don't need you anymore. I don't know if I ever did. ❜

❛ If you really wanna finish this together, just know that I do not trust you. At all. ❜

❛ You'll get a nosebleed trying that hard to read my mind. ❜

❛ Hey, you want straight answers, ask a straight lady. ❜

❛ Tell me what more I should see, when I look at you. ❜

❛ You know, we really hated each other from the beginning. But now...I love you, guys. ❜

❛ I'm a forgotten woman. ❜

❛ Death comes for us all. It is what we all have in common. ❜

❛ I can see all the pieces falling into place. The gaps are filling in. ❜

❛ I'm telling you now because soon I'm not going to remember any of this. ❜

❛ I hope you'll join me. ❜

❛ I needed you. My coven. ❜

❛ What can I say? I like the bad boys. ❜

❛ I loved being a witch. ❜

❛ That's it? That's all the... That's all the time I get? ❜

❛ This can't be the end. It has to be the beginning. ❜

❛ I watch you. Just as closely as you watch everyone else. ❜

❛ No one in history has had special treatment like you. ❜

❛ You gave me nothing. You took. ❜

❛ Why do you let them believe those things about you, hmm? ❜

❛ What fresh horrors await us! ❜

❛ You seem relaxed. Usually at this point you're either complaining loudly or freaking out loudly. ❜

❛ It's nice. That feeling when your body knows it's safe. ❜

❛ Sometimes...boys die. ❜

❛ Congratulations, my love! I'm sorry I didn't have a ribbon for you to run through. ❜

❛ Why don't you want me? ❜

❛ Power looks good on you. ❜

❛ You do this and I will hate you forever. ❜

❛ Please let him live. Please, my love! ❜

❛ If you want to survive, get used to this feeling. ❜

❛ I cannot protect you from what's coming. ❜

❛ I saw you die. ❜

❛ And now, I'm a ghost. Can you dig it? ❜

❛ By the way, I did not sacrifice myself for you. I took a calculated risk. ❜

❛ You're making fun of me. This is just one of your tricks. ❜

❛ You have something of mine. I know you took it. ❜

❛ Why are you still here? Why won't you just die? ❜

❛ I'm sure he would forgive you for... whatever you did. ❜

❛ We could make a good team. You and me. ❜

#rp meme #sentence starters #inbox meme #rp prompt #roleplay meme #roleplay prompts #rp memes #sentence meme #sentence starter meme #*tv

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bubbles-for-all-of-us · 1 year ago

Text

Pretty like the wind

Previous chapter / Next chapter

a/n Part eight! Buckle up, that's all I will say. Much love.🤍🥹

warning: kids, past trauma, wing clipping, wounds, blood, all the horrors of Illyrian camps.

Not proof read yet!!!

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The room felt warm and quiet. You could hear people talking outside as they passed by, but it didn't bother you. The sound was muffled enough to mix and twirl with the sounds of the river. You had no idea when the last time you slept so peacefully was. Not a single night terror. Not a single flinch. There was no need to jump up every time an unknown sound filled the room. This felt safe. Happy. You blinked a couple of times. You could tell that the room was brightly illuminated by the morning sun, but no direct sunlight hit your eyes. Now you know why. Azriel had his wing wrapped around you, the bridge of it acting as your shield against the careless beam of light. You reached up mindlessly, brushing the tips of your fingers over the delicate leather, making Azriel growl ever so slightly.

You moved to turn towards him. Last night felt like a dream. Cordelia, Azriel's mother, had welcomed you with so much love that it was overwhelming. Zofie and Axel were high on attention. They sang all the songs they knew and even danced together. You had never seen them so lively. So eager to be on the receiving end of attention. Sure, they enjoyed the activities in the sanctuary. But most of them were mandatory. Children had to attend classes and have afternoon activities. And yes, they smiled while doing it, but it never came close to the smile that shined on their faces last night.

You moved your hand to the side, where Zofie usually slept. Eager to brush your fingers through her, no doubt, messy hair since she was way too tired last night to detangle her curls. But all you were met with were the cold sheets. Your heart instantly sank. Your body jolted as you sat up, pushing Azriel's wing away.

"Where are they?", your words came out almost breathless as you looked across the room. There was no sign of Axel either. A warm palm moved to caress your lower back. "Hey, calm down", the spymaster's voice was low and husky. Laced with deep sleep. And even if you wanted to bask in the sight of him, your anxious brain quickly pushed the image of him sprawled out next to you away. "Azriel", you hissed, moving to get out of bed, but he quickly caught your wrist. "They are with my mom", he muttered. "Alone?", your eyes darted towards the window. So many what-ifs were clouding your vision.

"Get back in bed", you felt a tug on your hand. But it was not only the fear for your kids that clawed at you. You two hadn't talked after the kiss. You sat on his lap last night. He had an arm wrapped around your lower back. A feathery kiss here and there. But... what if it was just a high of the moment? What if he had changed his mind? The next tug was way stronger. Azriel practically dragged you up and over his chest. As if it was nothing. As if moving your body around was the easiest thing ever.

"Azriel", you huffed, trying to fight against his touch but knowing full well that there was no way you were getting away from him. So you turned to face him. His loving eyes were already gazing at you. The shadowsinger made a quick move by pushing some of the loose strands of your hair away from your eyes before muttering, "My shadows are with them. They are safe. Mom is looking after them". You opened your mouth to argue with him, but he cut in quickly, "They are eating street pancakes now". A light smile tugged at his lips. A knowing one. "How do...", you muttered. "I see through my shadows. They are safe and happy", Azriel said with a little chuckle, no doubt watching these two do something they probably shouldn't.

"And before you ask, yes, they have mittens on", Azriel jabbed his fingers into your side, making you squirm. "Fuck you", you huffed, rolling your eyes. A deep chuckle slipped through his lips. "I would not decline", the spymaster said in a teasing manner. You gapped at him, shoving at his shoulder. "Azriel", you winced, hating how your cheeks were already getting crimson. "You say my name awfully often this morning, love", he breathed out innocently. But the embarrassment that ran through you had you hiding your face in his neck. Azriel instantly opted to run his palm up and down your back. Fingers innocently brushing against the ham of the shirt you had on. His shirt. Because magically, all of your nightgowns had disappeared, and last night you didn't want to argue with Azriel about it. A tight pang ran through your chest. Brushing a dark layer over the sweet moment. It all felt too good. Too nice. Too calm. You had never... never had a chance to have a boyfriend growing up, so, love, let's say it's been tucked deeply into your chest. Dusty, forgotten. So it couldn't just come undone so easily. Right?

"Stop worrying", Azriel grumbled. You could feel the way his chest moved with every word that he spoke. The fact that he could read you so well when, for so many years, no one could... "I can't", you muttered so quietly. Voice barely a whisper. Azriel quickly shifted, pulling just enough for him to see your face. "Do you think I would seriously let them do something that would put them in harm's way?", his voice was much more serious now. There's not a thread of that teasing undertone. Puff. Gone. A soldier made of steel.

You shake your head, "No", you hate the doubt that still rumbles deep within your gut. "I'm just scared to let them go... I don't know", you admitted, shrugging your shoulders. Azriel quickly cupped your face and turned your attention back to him. "You gave them a chance at a beautiful life, love. This just adds to it". You let out a sigh. "Well, so did you", you smiled at Azriel softly, finger running over his eyebrows, trying to learn every detail of his face. "They adore you", you humed after a moment of silence. The memory of Zofie and Axel making this hulk of a male twirl in the kitchen last night flushed through your mind. "I adore you", Azriel mused softly. You couldn't help but let out a chuckle. "Smooth", you muttered, shaking your head.

But you're met with Azriel's dazed eyes. As if there's nothing he would rather be looking at than you. As if you are the most important thing right now. "You look pretty", and it's the endless love-sick words that cause you to drop your gaze as you try to hide your face from him. "Very funny", you mutter. You could only imagine how disheveled you looked. Messy hair, no makeup. Not put together at all. Most males would run. But not Azriel, as you feel his fingers moving over your bare thighs. "I'm serious. It's like you're... glowing", and you can't take his adorations any longer as you move closer to him, reaching for his face. "What are you doing?", Azriel says as you move to straddle his hips. You only throw him a grin and say, "Keeping your mouth busy."

You two were halfway through your breakfast when the door creaked open and fits of giggles filled the place. You nearly fell back as you moved to stand up, hurrying towards the hallway. Too long. They had been away from you for too long. Waking up without them next to you had left you anxious, no matter the distractions. "Y/n", cheerful squealing filled the space as the two kids took off towards you, muddy shoes still on. "My babies", you kneeled instantly, opening your arms to them. Not minding the cool material of their winter clothes, dampened by the snow.

But keeping them still seemed impossible. Too much energy and excitement still bubbled within their tiny bodies. "You would not believe it! There's a fountain with spinning water fairies", Axel beamed, his hands flailing upwards as he showed you different shapes. "And there are golden flowers, too", Zofie pulled at your hand eagerly. "That sounds beautiful. I hope you were behaving nicely", you looked at the two of them as they nodded their heads.

Azriel watched you from the doorway. Arms crossed over his chest. He had seen the things they had gone up to, so it was you who had his full attention. The way the blanket of worry melted away. Leaving the smell of happiness behind. No longer was there a painful tug deep within him. The pain seemed glossed over. Gone simply. Watching you smile at the two kids, he suddenly realized that he would be fine with watching you like this forever. In reality, it seemed as if he needed nothing else. "Granny bought us roasted chestnuts to try", now those words had made Azriel bite down on his breath, and from your way, your shoulders stiffened; he knew that it struck you too. Granny. Azriel wondered how long it would take his mother to usher the kids to her side. Even if his childhood was horrible, his mother was the only thing keeping him alive. That hour, which Azriel was allowed to spend with her, always fueled him. Ignited enough strength so the tiny bat would not crumble completely.

"These two had stolen the whole town's hearts", Cordelia mused happily, arms full with bags, Azriel moved swiftly, taking them from her. A knowing look on her face said it all. Azriel didn't need to say anything. If he could fool his brothers, he could never fool his mother. "Did you two say thank you?", you gave both of the kids a look, and they once again nodded eagerly. Not missing a beat. Cordelia smiled right back at them.

"Y/N, can I have a quick word?" The older lady turned your way, and dread instantly bloomed within you. You threw Azriel a look, but he just shrugged his shoulders before turning to the two troublemakers, drawing shapes in the mud that they stomped inside. "Let's get you two washed up", he said, lifting the two of them easily, each resting in the crook of Azriel's armpits, laughing hysterically.

"I hope they haven't caused too much trouble, ma'am", you stood up quickly, smoothing the wrinkles in your dress. Making a mental note to mop the floors after. "Sweetheart, I thought we agreed on Cordelia", she shook her head in disbelief, but the smile didn't leave her face. "And it's not about the kids...", her eyes followed the noise coming from the end of the hallway. You could hear the mixture of laughter drowning out the silent walls. "It's about my boy", Cordelia breathed.

You watched her gaze get distant for a moment before she squeezed your hand. "My boy, I see the way he looks at you. Last night he couldn't keep his eyes off you", your cheeks heated at her words. You thought the glances were careful. Not too obvious, but it seemed you had been wrong.

"He's a handful at times, but... when he loves... he loves with all that he has", sadness lined her words now. You knew snippets of his past. Who hadn't? The whole court drummed with stories of him. His arms were a dead giveaway of his traumatic upbringing. But you never held that against him. It was a part of him. A part that needed to be loved just as much. "Don't play with his heart", Cordelia's last words came out more like a plea, and your heart bled alongside hers.

"I'll cherish it; I will", You turned to the elderly lady, taking both of her hands into hers. She threw you one of her signature-knowing looks. "Promise to bring my grandchildren around often. Been waiting way too long for them", you can't help but chuckle lightly. You doubted you would be able to hold Zofie and Axel away even if you wanted. They had fallen hard for the love they never got to experience. A grandmother's love. You turned to reach for the rest of the scattered things when Cordelia caught your hand. "And, YN", she said softly, "You were meant to find each other". It felt as if your chest hallowed out for a moment before filling with so much light that it was almost too painful to bear.

Azriel grew more worried as the day moved toward the evening. He was planning and talking with Rhys through his mind. Setting up the final times for the dinner. Shoving Rhys smug ass right out when his brothers started teasing. He was nervous. Was he nervous? He realized now that he had never brought anyone around. Well, he wasn't an innocent man. The three of them had shared females in the same room while they were young. But this wasn't that. This was so much more than that. The thought of having to share you with anyone made Azriel's blood run thick. No, you were his. As much as he didn't want to grow possessive, his scent had mingled with yours. In the same way, notes of oranges and vanilla were now intertwined with his musky scent, in more than one way, you had became his.

A thud from behind the closed door made Azriel lift his head. Axel and he had been waiting in the living room for you and Zofie to get ready. And while Axel had been fully occupied with the book that Cordelia had slipped into his hands, Azriel was growing impatient. He hadn't seen you for over a couple of hours. A couple of hours too long that was.

He heard you hissing Zofie's name, making his eyebrows scrunch. "What's going on in there", the spymaster muttered under his breath. Mostly to himself. So he was more than surprised when he heard a response,"You know females", Axel laughed under his breath, not lifting his eyes from the pages. "Axel", Azriel brushed his hand over his stubble as he tried to contain his smile. That boy was seriously way too smart for his age. Azriel chose to stay back until he could hear the frustrated stomping; that was enough to pull him from his chair.

"Can I come in?", he breathed after knocking softly. The door opened almost immediately, and Mother have mercy on him. He was ready to fall to his knees as his eyes landed on you. Wavy hair falling behind your shoulder, and a deep blue velvet dress hugging every curve of your body. And all of a sudden, the top button of Azriel's shirt felt too tight, cutting off the normal airflow, pants too itchy. The spymaster quickly pulled his eyes away from you, trying to find something else to look at.

"What's wrong", he tried to peek behind your shoulder. Getting a glimpse of Zofie with her hands crossed over her chest. You let out a sigh as you stepped aside, "She doesn't like her hair". Azriel strided ahead, moving toward the little ball of frustration, glaring at the floor as if it had done something to personally offend her.

"Hey, what's wrong?", Azriel directs the question at Zofie, who only pouts harder. "My hair", the girl tugs at her messy curls, the color of the night itself. As wild as her too. "I think it looks pretty", Azriel says softly, but Zofie is quiet enough to throw him a look that tells him that she's not buying his bullshit, no matter how hard he tried. Azriel just shakes his head in disbelief. These kids... His eyes catch a glimpse of a light blue ribbon, his hand reaching towards it almost subconsciously. "Come, sit on my lap", the shadowsinger urges the girl up the bed before his fingers brush through her long hair. And soon he finds himself in that long-forgotten rhythm of braiding someone's hair.

The rest of the evening was a big blur. Brushing at Axel's shirt. Reassuring Zofie that there was nothing to fear. Cordelia waving you all goodbye. Azriel talking, but you barely heard him through your panic. And then there's Rhys walking towards you all on his massive balcony, arms outstretched.

"Welcome, I was worried Azriel had hidden you in his cave", the high lord jabbed at his brother, making Azriel roll his eyes. But he doesn't say anything; his attention is more focused on Zofie, who has her head hidden in the crook of his neck.

"It's good to see you here, darling", Rhys reaches for your hands, and even if you know this man, had seen him at his lowest, it still feels weird being here like this. You work in his sanctuary. You are summoned by him. But it's only his office you agree to go to. Only if he winnows you straight there and back. And you know deep down that you two are linked in more than one way, but you push those thoughts away.

"It's good to be here", you say, smiling up at him. "Hope my brother didn't give you too much of a hard time", Rhys chimed, making you turn towards Azriel, who stood there more than unimpressed. "I'll issue you a paycheck", you chuckle, and you could swear that even Azriel's lip twitched with a smile for a moment.

"Uff, right in the nuts", another, much louder voice cuts in, followed by the sound of heels clicking against the tiles. "Cassian, there are kids around", a female tugged at the winged male's shirt tightly, but that only made his grin wider. "I've seen your head", and it's Axel who's pointing his little finger at the high lord. You quickly bat his finger away, shaking your head at him for the inappropriate gesture. But Rhys doesn't seem to mind as he leans closer to the boy, "And I've heard that you're growing up to be quite a soldier", your eyes darted up to Azriel. Had he been talking about you all with his family? Well, of course, he planned this, but... you can plan something without talking about the person you bring. But Azriel has a proud smile on his face as he watches the boy, and the way his eyes grow big. "Will give us competition, huh", Cassian adds, and you could swear Axel holds himself even taller as he glances at the two males, nodding.

"Why don't we all go inside", a female moves to wrap her arm around Rhys. You don't even need her to introduce herself; you know who she is, Feyre. You've seen her through Rhys's eyes, and, well, she's even more beautiful in person. "Come, my son is excited to meet you too, bud", Rhys reaches for Axel, who clasps the lord's hand tightly. You feel Azriel's hand on the small of your back as he ushered you towards the glass door.

The evening is nothing but lovely. The food is delicious, and the conversation flows surprisingly easily. The light-teasing remarks and jokes that keep flying left and right slowly eat at the tension in your shoulders. And sure, they all seem nice, but you also understand why being here would hurt Azriel. You would have to be blind to not see the amount of love that pours out of the two couples. And even if you were blind, you would still feel it. It's in the air. The looks. The touches. You imagine how lonely it must have been for Azriel. How... your hand reaches for his beneath the table, giving it a little squeeze. The spymaster glances your way, a light smile tugging at his lips.

Your eyes dart toward the three kids next. Nyx is about Zofie's age, and quite frankly, from the moment he saw her, he's been looking at her as if she's hung the stars in the sky. But the two are way too shy to talk to one another. So it's Axel who's been babbling away all evening. You can't help but smile once more. It would be lovely for them to have another friend. Someone out of their circle. And Nyx has wings too. Him and Axel could learn together. The boy practically has a heart of gold, so you're nothing but sure that he would never make fun of Axel for the way his wings were. Considering that that hadn't been brought up ever once tonight.

Just suddenly, the door burst. You don't even get to turn your head to the side before you feel Azriel moving to stand up; the absence of him is instantly unsettling. And then you see it. Someone you knew was missing from this table all along.

"Elain", Azriel's voice is filled with disbelief, and your gut curls into itself. You grip your fork tightly. What right did you have to get upset over this? You watch the surprise rippling through the female, who looks shocked to see Azriel. It doesn't help that she's gorgeous too. From her perfectly braided hair to her light pink dress, she's the complete opposite of you. "Azriel?", she says, shaking her head before leaping into his arms. And something about that hug. The way he's holding onto her sides and the way she has her arms wrapped around his neck makes you want to run away and hide. You feel a light tug at your side, turning to find the two kids now by your chair. Big eyes, full of questions, watching you.

"I thought...", the female stuttered, right as another male walked through the door, still fixing his shirt. "We do apologize for being late", his dark red hair swaying as he moved towards the table. "No, I'm aware that you two have been busy", Rhys purred back with a smirk. A knowing look painted the autumn male's features. "You... you accepted the bond?", Azriel muttered, and it's as if he's freely chosen to take chunks of your heart out tonight. And you're ready to talk and listen about anything but this. You don't want to be here anymore. Anything, you plead, give me anything.

As if summoned by you, a paper note falls right onto Rhys's plate. The male startles for a moment before reaching for it. His face darkens more and more as his eyes race through the words. The high lord's eyes meet yours over the table, "North Camp," and that's all you need to hear before moving to get up.

The dinner is long forgotten after that. Rhys winnows everyone back to the sanctuary. The grip Zofie and Axel have on you is making it hard for you to move. The troupe is getting armed, and you know that you need to be doing the same. "I want to go to Grammy", Zofie says quietly into your skirt. You kneel in front of them, "We can't go now. You two will have to stay in our old room", you say softly. You never had to leave with them present, and suddenly you realize why. Leaving them like this is more than painful.

"I can take them," Feyre cuts in. You saw the way all color disappeared from her face when she saw all of these kids and females in front of her. "You two hear that, high lady will take you to Cordelia", you cup their faces gently. "And Azriel?", Axel looks around, trying to spot the tall figures through the sea of bodies. "I don't know, bud. He was never a part of our world anyway", you hate the words that slip past your lips the moment you see confusion running through the boy's eyes. Your petty hurt is the last thing they need now. So, you kiss both of their foreheads and say, "Don't get into too much trouble without me", you flick both of their noses playfully before stepping away quickly. Turning from them so they won't see the tears on your face.

"Stay close", the voice alone has a shiver running down your back. You turn to face him. Azriel is in full Illyrian leathers, striding towards you. "Don't make this complicated", you hiss through clenched teeth, putting a dagger in the strap around your thighs. "I'm trying to keep you safe", there's that same pleading tone in his voice, but you no longer buy it. Not after tonight. Not after his whole body changed when he saw Elain.

"I was perfectly safe before you came around", you bite back. And you know, the words sting. Taking Azriel by surprise, almost. But you don't know what he expected. For you to bounce back? To not mind. "Take your brothers, go to the upper camp, and find the kids", you say bluntly. You know you are in no position to order him around, but you don't care anymore. Azriel opens his mouth as if to say something before closing it back up. You shake your head at him. And he's left to watch you rush towards the sanctuary soldiers, shouting commands before your hands disappear into a glowing light and everything grows static for a moment. As if your powers had managed to slow down time, draw elements from the air around everyone.

Azriel can't shake the sick feeling as he winnows alongside his brothers. He caught the disapproving look on Rhys's face, but the male said nothing. Deep down, Azriel knows that's not the thing that's making him uncomfortable. He didn't say anything to the kids. He tried to look for them in the sea of people but to no avail. He only found you because a soldier directed him. It's as if you didn't want to be seen by him. His head was a mess; it was not how he imagined the night to go. And Elain and Lucien... It took him by surprise, but he was happy for them. Elain reeked of the autumn male, and Lucien swaggering in all disheveled was a true cherry on top. But they were meant to be together.

"Front door", Rhys murmured through the mind bond, and Azriel only nodded before kicking the door open. The three males inched inside. The letter looked sketchy if Azriel was being honest. A sacrifice. The camp leader made a sacrifice to make a point. Show Rhys that he had no powers up in the mountains. With kids held in the upper cabin before the slaughter. And he could hear the cries, but no matter where they looked, there wasn't a single body in the house.

"What the fuck is this?", Cassian cursed as he yanked yet another door open, only to be met with the same nothingness. "Basement?", Rhys asked, his eyes scanning the floorboards. But they all knew there was no way; the sound was coming from the side. And then Azriel felt it. As if someone reached into his chest, yanked his heart out, and ripped it to pieces right in front of him. Shier panic washed over him. "Y/N," he breathed, stepping towards the front door. "The sounds are illusions", he hissed through gritted teeth. "A trap", Rhys said in disbelief as the same worry coursed through his veins. "Y/n!", a roar slipped past Azriel's lips.

Something felt off, and you could feel it. There were two little people in this camp. No commotion. You couldn't even feel the heartbeats. So what were you slowing down? You looked around, trying to catch the sigh of a single soldier. Your head up to reach for the daggers and do your scope, but there was no one here. A shiver ran down your back. And then the birds fled from the mountains. Rumbling as the snow fell from the top. Whatever caused that to happen...

But you don't get to finish the thought. You heard it before you saw it. You felt it before you could even register what was happening. A painful sob slipped past your lips as an arrow pierced your left wrist. You staggered back. Warm blood trickling down your palm instantly. No, there was no way. You barely lifted your head as another arrow hit your right palm. You let out a cry. Your vision growing hazy. Fear bubbled deep within you. You tried to summon through the pain, but the more you moved your hands, the more blood you were losing.

And then you saw a group of males, all with iron armor. "Fuck", you cursed under your breath, trying to get up and move away. But the arrows must have been dipped in venom. You stumbled, making the males laugh as they slowly inched closer towards you. "Azriel", you muttered quietly. "Azriel, please", your eyes slowly started burning with tears.

"Well, well, well...", one of the males grabbed at your ankle, dragging you through the muddy ground towards them. "Two for two, it's my lucky day, boys", the other pulled at your hands, breaking off the tips of the arrows, causing you to scream out in agony. "Please", you pleaded once more.

I'm almost there. Hold on, love. Hold on for me. Azriel's voice filled your head, and you couldn't help but let out a choked-out sob at that. "Why don't we end it once and for all? Pay your daddy an omega", one of the males pulled you up by the hair right as the other threw him a dagger.

"Any last words, princess?", his voice was thick in your ear. But you don't finish. You don't make another move. Reaching deep within yourself, you wrap your hands around the glowing golden thread, caressing it softly one more time before whispering, "I'm sorry". They erupt with laughter; but they don't need to know that those words aren't for them. And then you close your eyes right as the cold blade touches your throat.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Taglist: @naturakaashi @hoemadegrace

#azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel acotar x reader #azriel acotar imagine #azriel acotar #azriel imagine #azriel shadowsinger #azriel spymaster x reader #azriel spymaster #acotar imagine #acotar x reader

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hellsburners · 1 year ago

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best mistake

summary: you're new york's hero: spider-man. your roommate peter is the brains behind it all and the love of your life and he doesn't even know it. pairing: tasm!peter parker x male reader word count: 1.6k warnings: unprotected s3x, blowjobs, casual hooking up. a/n: i'm back? (based on this amazing prompt)

masterlist | more peter parker

Peter hears a loud thud from his window. It was dark outside, the clock on his desk reading past midnight, the city more quiet.

He peers on the glass, a dark figure resting its head on the pane. He gently lifts the window, your body slumping on his arms, your face bruised and bloody. He carries you to the bed, your suit all tattered and dirtied. Peter runs to the bathroom to get a basin of warm water and a towel.

He takes his time to wipe the blood from your face, gently wiping it on your soft skin, and brushing your hair away from your face. His eyes wander to your face, a familiar one, a face he’s seen ever since he was a kid, but now much older.

He takes the medical kit under his bed, gently moving you so he can remove your ruined suit. His calloused skater hands brush your chest with the damp cloth, scrubbing away the dried blood crusting your wounds. He applied a salve on some of the cuts to prevent infection, the bigger gashes he stitched.

The two of you have been doing this for eight years now. You, the web-slinger, protector of the city, while Peter, the brains behind your crusade. He came up with the idea of making the web-shooters, his bio-engineer degree with your experience as a research scientist in aerophysics helped hand-in-hand in keeping the city safe.

You turned in your sleep, groaning from the pain. “Hey, easy up tiger your wounds are still fresh,” he said, helping you prop yourself up on his bed.

“How long have I passed out?” you said, noticing your suit was pulled down to your waist.

“Just a couple of minutes,” he said. “Saw you on the TV.”

“Yeah, that Electro guy short-circuited my web-shooters,”

“About that, I sketched up a new prototype that could be resistant to his attacks,” he said, gesturing at his messy table with his new creation. “I also made some tweaks on the web fluid, I increased the tensile strength so they can withstand greater velocities.”

Peter’s eyes glimmered as he talked about the new shooters. Your mouth lifted into a smile as he continued to ramble. “What do you think?” he said, “Did you even listen?”

“Yeah—increased tensile strength blah blah,” you uttered. “How’s the job hunt by the way?”

“Terrible. I did sell some pictures to the bugle,” he said. “Jameson gave me $350.”

“$350? That’s not even enough for groceries and the electricity bill.”

“Well it’s better than nothing,” he said, taking his glasses off. “I saw Gwen earlier.”

Oh. Peter’s high school ex. You diverted your gaze away from his, finding the city lights outside the window was a distraction. You felt your chest tighten, your heartbeat much louder.

For the fifteen years you’ve known Peter Parker, you’ve also fallen in love with him. The two of you have shared some casual encounters here and there but you knew it was never serious. So the idea of him meeting his greatest love made you uncomfortable.

Peter noticed the way your attention left his, your eyes hooded as you stared far away. He noticed your hand clutch on the sheets, your jaw clenched. “She got engaged recently,” your muscles relaxing. Oh, you said. “Yeah, to some rich socialite from the Upper East Side.”

“Good for her,” you whispered.

“Have you thought about something like that?”

“Marrying a rich man?” you chuckled.

“No, just marrying,” he uttered, the corner of his lips lifting north. His fingers trace your skin, drawing circles. You let him.

“Not at all. I guess I’m gonna be broke my whole life,” you try to get up, your back betraying you. You stagger for a bit, your hand finding Peter’s shoulder for stabilization. He stands as well, his large hands around your bare waist.

Your breaths were close—too close. You could feel his heat, his warm musky scent, his brown eyes set on yours. He bends his spine so he can reach your face closer, his pink lips hovering off yours.

You pull back, clearing your throat in the process. “I’m gonna go get a drink.”

“Yeah, sure,” he coughs.

You walk to the kitchen, holding onto your wounded torso. Peter’s eyes dropped to your underwear-clad ass, his cheeks blushed from the shame. Stop ogling your best friend Peter.

You find the fridge bare of any beverage, you turn your head back to see Peter staring at your ass, his face absent of any expression.

“Stop staring at my ass!” you shouted, throwing a kitchen cloth at him. “Plus, where’s all the beer.”

“I was not!” he shouted back. “And I think I drank all of it.”

You let out a sigh. You found a can of Coke on the bottom shelf of the fridge. You jumped to sit on the kitchen counter, your legs dangling off the linoleum countertop. The liquid sizzles as you chug it, the brown syrupy consistency dripping from the side of your mouth to your bare chest.

Fuck it. Peter walks to the kitchen, joining you. “If you want to seduce me you could just say it.”

“Seduce you?” you laughed. “And why would I do that?”

Your legs wrap around his waist. He takes the can from your hand, drinking the rest of it before placing it on the counter. “Because you’re like that, always making sure I can see that ass around,” he whispers to your neck.

Your head falls back from his kisses, your hands spread behind you for stability. He pulls your underwear off, your erection pointing north. He licks a strip underneath, you shudder from the sudden sensation.

He wrapped his long fingers around it, stroking it with his saliva, the only thing you could let out was a moan. He lifted you up the counter so your legs were mounted on his shoulders. He takes his digits inside his mouth, lubing it before pressing it into your hole.

“Fuck,” you moaned.

“Feel good, huh?” he said. His fingers curl up inside you, teasing your sensitive spot. Your body winces from the sensation, your legs automatically closing on his head. He strokes your erection again, simultaneously stimulating your prostate. The combined sensation made your legs weak, and your arms almost collapsing. “To be honest, you’re the only one I do this to, Spidey.”

“Liar,” you let out a groan. “I know you kicked yourself over and over for not bagging Gwen.”

His grip on your cock tightened, his fingers went deeper. “Aw, are you jealous of her?”

“You lost your virginity to me asshole,” you whimper. “I get to ride that dick, not her.”

“Ride?” he chuckles. He pulls back, his hands wet with spit. “Go at it then. Ride me.”

The two of you were in his bed now. Peter sitting on the bed as you sucked him off. His hand found your head, running it through your hair. “Fuck baby,” he moans.

Your head bobs on his tip, your tongue licking around his head as you take him in. Your free hand was stroking his length, it was long enough that it was actually difficult to take him all in your throat.

“Fuck the blowjob, just ride me please,” he whimpers.

“I was preparing it you dick,” you said. “I can’t fit all that without some lube.”

You straddle his legs, aligning his tip against your hole. Your hands find his broad shoulders for support. The two of you moan from the contact. You hole slowly taking his length in. Peter shuddered from the warmth enveloping his erection. He cursed, he could cum from this alone.

You looked beautiful, Peter thought. Your hips moving against his sex, your eyes lidded, and your mouth agape, the sweetest moans leaving your lips. It was a sight he could look at forever. He takes your faces to his lips pressing them together. You let out soft whimpers, Peter blushes from the sounds.

“It’s too fucking big,” you groan.

“You can take it, baby, please, do it for me,” Peter moans.

He was a mess, you thought. All sweaty and red. He didn’t have the enhanced stamina you had. Your hands fall on his toned abdomen, your fingers finding the ridges underneath his shirt. You moved your hips up and down his length, your brows furrowing from the amount of pressure on your behind.

Peter stroked your erection as you continued riding him. His mouth was agape as your eyes locked on each other. You pulled him to you, your arms around his head as you quickened your pace. Your hips gyrated on his cock with such swiftness Peter’s cock felt like it was being bombarded with so much stimuli he could combust into flames.

“Shit, I’m close–”

“Me too, Peter,” you moan. “Cum in me.”

“You sure?” he said. You nod against the whimpers.

Peter rocks his hips against your ass, gripping onto the mounds of flesh. Your body draws out the pleasure from him as you move your hips. He could let out curses, pleading for release. From the same beat of your movement, the two of you let out your climax, your own release covering his torso as he filled you.

You lay in bed catching your breath. “This was probably bad for your stitches,” he said, his brown hair drenched.

“Yeah, I think I tore it again,” you breathed heavily.

It was probably a mistake. For you to continue this charade with Peter. To exchange bodily pleasure knowing your heart beat only for him, but it was a mistake you were ready to commit over and over again.

interactions are greatly appreciated btw if u liked this fic and want more send me a prompt and i'd gladly make something from it :>

#peter parker smut #peter parker x reader smut #peter parker x male reader smut #the amazing spiderman #tasm!peter parker x reader #tasm!peter parker x male reader #tasm!peter parker x male reader smut

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pastelsnowcat · 7 months ago

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Three is a charm, two is not the same pt. 111

» [3 - Britney Spears] «

1:25 ─〇───── 3:33 ⇄◃◃ ⅠⅠ ▹▹ ↻

Third and final part to my first series 👀 hope y’all like it 👉👈

Minors, do not interact or I will chase you like a dog with rabies :) The blog is an adult space

Pairing: Yuki x Shoko x fem!reader

Third part, better read Part I and Part II first! Polyamorous relationship, threesome, power dynamics with softdom Shoko and harddom yuki (not really but like.. a little) so be aware. Just in general lots of filthy lesbian smut with my favorite women<33 consensual somnophilia, bondage and free use! Choking! Consent declared within the text! Always make sure you got consent when you decide to be kinky!

1.18am.

1.19am.

1.20am.

You were in bed, waiting for the return of your girls but even you couldn’t fight the exhaustion of the day that finally caught you. Before you drifted off into sleep, you left a note on the nightstand ‘Missing you.. feel free to wake me up however you please ;)’ - and therefore giving them consent to.. well, wake you up however they please. A cuddle, a kiss.. someone between your thighs, didn’t matter.

1.32am.

Yuki was the first to return from her mission, covered in curse blood and guts and other unidentifiable substances.

The blonde quietly enters the bedroom, aware that surely you must be asleep by now, and she was right. There you were, wrapped around her blanket with Shoko’s pillow tightly in your clutch.

“Hi Princess..” she greets softly, aware you’re not going to reply. She brushes away a loose strand of hair, her hand now resting on your cheek as she places a gentle kiss upon your forehead. With the intention of taking a shower Yuki stands up just as quickly as she sat down next to you mere moments ago.

Then the note catches her attention, and she reads through it in a haste, already having a hunch of what it might say.

And she’s correct, like usual.

“Look at you.. naughty girl” she chuckles to herself, and disappears into the bathroom.

A few moments, maybe 3 or 4 minutes after Yuki stepped into the shower, Shoko returned as well.

Her gaze wanders through the living room which connected to the open kitchen and the adjacent bedroom, and it halters at the glass of whiskey on the coffee table and another note directed at her.

‘Hi honey, hope the shift wasn’t too exhausting. Did you know that camel’s have very efficient livers? You know, because they don’t get to drink much and need to keep as much water as they can when they do, hence the efficient livers. Maybe you should get one of those for yourself ;)?’ You love telling Shoko all about the little facts you know and learn about, it’s practically a love language at this point. But so did she, always happy to listen to you. Your voice was comforting but so was just your presence. You, you were comforting. A bright sunshine illuminating the darkness of the sorcery world.

Cheeky little thing, she thinks to herself sipping the warm, smokey liquor as the corner of her mouth twisted upwards. A smirk at your sly little comment. Shoko knows she drinks a lot, but how else is she supposed to cope with the stress of her occupation?

The answer is clear: booze, cigarettes, you.

She enters the bedroom, although a little startled as she didn’t except to walk right into the blonde beast of a woman, Yuki.

“Hey Love.. how you doin’?” Yuki grins, wrapping her arm around Shoko’s waist and pulling her closer. “Have you seen the video already?” Shoko chuckles, her voice low and raspy and wanting. “Ugh, yes. Poor kid had to finish the rest of the curses, had to get home..” Yuki mumbles against Shoko’s neck while placing kisses on it, marking the brunette’s pale neck with a hickey and a bite mark. Shoko hums in agreement with lips slightly parted at the burning sensation. It’s easy to notice the change of Yuki’s voice. It isn’t as high and clear as usual, but an octave, or two, deeper, huskily whispering dirty words into Shoko’s ear “Missed you sooo much.. couldn’t stop thinking ‘bout my gorgeous girls..can’t wait to bend her o’er ‘nd fuck her nice and good, pretty princess can eat you out in the meantime. How does that sound?”

Shoko shudders at the image of Yuki’s proposal, leaning her head to the side so Yuki can reach more of her skin and a sigh escapes her throat. “Mhm, would like that. Had a shitty day”

“Let’s wake bunny then, hm? Don’t think she’d mind, considering video and note she left us ‘nd stuff” She grins, holding up the note and showing it to Shoko. The doctor is quick to read through it, and as a result of your lovely invitation is now crawling between your thighs, eager to wake you up.

Shoko loves your thighs, how soft and pretty they are, always marked up by her and Yuki with numerous love bites and hickeys and bruises, how they always wrap around her when she drags her own cunt across yours slowly, teasingly.

Shoko is a tease.

She’s quick to pull down your panties, her panties originally, and reveals your glistening core to Yuki and herself, and immediately latches onto it with her lipgloss stained lips. You shift slightly, but still fast asleep. Shoko hums, your sweet taste coating her tongue and driving her just a littttle insane.

“Fuck, how she tastes?” Yuki groans at the vulgar view in front of her as she lays down next to your sleeping, warm, so incredibly good smelling body and runs her much larger hand across your chest. Slowly it pulls the vintage shirt up your torso, finally exposing your braless tits. Soft, warm, so pretty. So easy to use, easy to handle and play with as they please.

Shoko only hums satisfied, working your hot, throbbing mess between your thighs with her tongue and lips. With half lidded eyes and a flushed nose -it always reddens when Shoko is aroused, it’s a telltale sign- she can’t ignore her own wet cunt anymore, and finally she musters up the motivation to let her hand snake down her lower body. Since your eyes are still closed, they find Yuki’s instead and fixate on them as she continues to lap at your continuously-growing-wetter cunt and shoving two pretty, long fingers up her own dripping hole.

“Fuck love, look at you..” Yuki hums, her hand pinching and rolling over your nipples and eyes wandering over your body, and then Shoko’s, following the doctor’s hand downwards with quite a fixation.

Shoko likes being watched. Shoko also likes watching. Yuki likes to record and film all of the filthy things the three of you do. Yuki also likes fucking you dumb while Shoko drags at her cigarette, touching herself.

And you?

You, sweet thing, are a kinky whore for them.

Doesn’t matter if it’s Shoko toying with you, simply because she wants to. Edging you until you’re a crying mess, begging her to finally let you cum, or placing a vibrator against your swollen clit and playing with it on her phone. She insisted that she can control the black toy through her phone and a strong enough connection for her to play around on her phone even if you’re not in her immediate vicinity.

Doesn’t matter if it’s Yuki overstimulating you instead, making you cum over and over again and torturing your poor cunt until you just can’t take it anymore. But if you think she’s done with you simply because you can’t cum anymore, you’re mistaken. Instead, she simply holds you tightly, making sure you can’t wiggle out of her strong arms while you cockwarm her strap.

It’s torture, sweet torture, your two favorite women on opposite ends when it comes to fucking you senseless. Strong, direct Yuki never getting enough of you and taking what she wants directly, bending you over the nearest surface or throwing you into the air, your core now in Yuki’s immediate reach as she holds you up with your thighs thrown over her shoulders.

And calculated, teasing Shoko driving you insane with her ghostly touches and faux sympathy, getting you all desperate and whiny and making you beg like a bitch in heat until she finally lets you cum- but never even stopping her cruel stimulation to let you catch your breath, never giving you the chance to hold back your orgasm as efficiently as you wanted to.

You’re their sweet girl, their precious Angel and the love of their lives, but you’re also their plaything. Entertainment for them. A way for Shoko to relive her stress after patching up sorcerers and students alike. Yuki’s very own workout, showcasing her strength, her endurance and making those muscles of hers work to catapult you into ecstasy.

Your sudden movement startles Yuki for a moment, not having expected for you to wake up so quickly. But you just can’t help it, the stimulation making you whimper even in your sleep. “Hnm..fuck..” you gasp and wrap your hand around Yuki’s wrist, something to hold onto while Shoko licks up your cunt, pressing against your clit.

The air was thick, heavy with need and love. “Hey there, bunny” Yuki greets but not stopping her determined touches and pinching your nipple between her index and thumb. The little squeak of yours at the subtle sting pulls Shoko out of her trance, and she pauses for a moment.

“Hi Angel. We missed you” the sultry purr of her voice causes you to breathe out heavily like you just ran a marathon, eyebrows furrowed and eyes screwed together.

“H-hi Sho.. ahh, please, please keep going!” You whine and wiggle and bury your fingers into her hair, trying your best to keep Shoko between your thighs. Barely awake and already chasing the dizzying high, cute. “Easy now, pretty girl” she warns, nipping at your inner thigh.

You knew better than to get impatient, to get greedy but you just can’t help yourself, can you? No, you can’t, you’re needy and aroused and you just need Shoko to finally eat your cunt like it’s her last meal in this world. Like it’s her very own, personal last supper.

“Shooo..” you draw out, pathetic whimper echoing through the bedroom. “C’mon.. just- just do it already!” You beg, or at least you try to, but it’s more like a command than anything else. Something Shoko isn’t pleased with. She trained you better than that, and she removes herself from between your legs entirely to remind you of that. Shoko adores you, she will reach out to the stars and pull the moon from the night sky if you had asked her to. But there’s no need for that, you got your moon right here, in front of you. And the sun, with her warm touches and soft breaths tickling your neck, laying next to you.

And you? You’re their star. Shining bright, always leading them back home. Even after cruel night shifts at the infirmary, or exorcising one curse after another. The moon and the sun always return to their star.

“Needy little bitch” your favorite doctor sighs, circling the bed to reach into the nightstand, retrieving some rope. “If you can’t be patient, I ought to remind you of your manners. Don’t you think?” She explains calmly, rarely ever getting worked up. She doesn’t need to be, the slight change of her tone enough to put you back into your place. She doesn’t need to get worked up because you’re entirely aware that if she does, Shoko will make you cry and she will not stop until you call out your safe word. Since you intent to cum, you obey, like an obedient pup and nod.

She hums satisfied, her raspy voice causing a shiver to run down your spine right into your core, Shoko cooing and comforting you. “You’re going to be good for me, yeah? Going to behave now? I know you can do it, you can be a good pup, hm? Just need to be reminded, occasionally” the older woman hums, twisting and wrapping the rope around your wrists and securing them behind your back. Then, with practiced ease -it’s not the first time Shoko has tied you up with the same, delicate hands that also heal you when you get a little too reckless on your missions once again- Shoko places the rope down your chest right between your breasts and around your waist.

She’s subduing you, clearly not wanting you to be able to move around too much. But why? To edge you?

No. No, she isn’t going to edge you. Instead, after you’re rendered immobile, Shoko straddles Yuki’s lap, placing a tender kiss upon the bridge of her nose. Yuki had been patiently watching the both of you, lazily running her hand up and down her body to try and ease her own growing want.

Now, you might assume Shoko to always be the dominant one, considering how she treats you. Right?

Wrong. Not with Yuki. Around Yuki, even Shoko is docile, submissive.

And the only thing you’re capable of doing right now is watching them- your pretty girlfriends as they kiss and bite and claw at each other, watching as Yuki’s hands creep underneath Shoko’s turtleneck, her hands cupping her soft tits. You tried to rub your thighs together, create some sort of stimulation to ease the throbbing between your thighs but to no avail, Shoko had tied you up just too well.

Curse her skilled hands, may they be damned for eternity.

Now, if you look away you might be able to calm down a little, catch your breath but Shoko wouldn’t really like that. Besides, watching Yuki’s hand slowly moving between your doctor’s thighs, putting gentle pressure against her panties causing her to sigh..

Yea, you’d much rather keep watching, not caring too intensely about your own arousal. If you’re good and behave now, surely they will make you cum. Right?

Right?

“Fuck babe, look’t her.. poor thing can barely keep it together” Yuki chuckles amused, her left hand rubbing delicate circles on Shoko’s tense shoulders, the right one playing with her sopping cunt, the vulgar squelches ringing in your ears.

“Listen up, Angel. Be good and keep your eyes on us, okay? If you do that, we’ll make you cum” Shoko commands, her voice far too self-assured for it to be a simple offer. And you nod eagerly, your eyes wide and big and hopeful. “Yes! Yes any-anything you want, Sho” you bark like an excited puppy, ready to do whatever she wants, whatever she might ask of you.

Both Yuki and Shoko spoil you rotten, treat you like you’re sculpted by god herself, protect and take care of you.

But you better behave when they let their frustrations out on you in return, thighs spread and chest pushed out for their taking. Consensual, of course. Neither would ever do anything that could put you at harm or make you feel uncomfortable in any shape or form, but they loveeee pushing you beyond your limits again and again, slowly, taking you further each time they fuck you.

Yuki is splayed across Shoko, limbs twisted around each other, her muscular thigh dragging across her cunt. Both are undressed, finally, and you’re watching them closely. Yuki’s back and thigh muscles working to pleasure Shoko, her raspy moans causing you to shiver and the wet, sloppy noises of her cunt rubbing across the special grade sorcerer’s leg. Sinful, dirty.

It’s filthy, the image in front of you, your girlfriends making out with teeth clashing aggression, Shoko rutting against Yuki chasing her high while Yuki is mindlessly pumping two- or maybe three?- of her digits in and out of her plump cunt.

But you, poor puppy, can’t do shit right now. You’re stuck like Shoko has left you previously, body entrapped in rope and unable to move. Needy, so needy and desperate for a hand or two touching and grabbing at you. But you’re far too focused to keep your teary, glossy eyes on the doctor and special grade, blonde and brunette hair sticking to their forehead respectively and using each other’s body to reach their climax. It’s primal, animalistic with no regards to space or time. All that matters is fucking and fucking and fucking. Cumming over and over again, kissing and loving and touching each other.

Shoko’s eyes- have they always been so dark? ? And Yuki, the way she’s grinding and moving her digits, has her voice always been so high pitched? But fuck, they look so good, sound so good, smell sooo incredibly good. Shoko’s voice has always been a little rough, but it sounds so fucking pretty when she’s moaning and panting against Yuki’s neck. And just watching Yuki work to bring Shoko -and herself- to climax, it’s about the most attractive thing you’ve ever witnessed.

The blonde’s squeak tears you out of your trance as the doctor finally reached her orgasm, biting into Yuki’s shoulder without any regards if it hurts just a little too much. After all, Shoko may just be a little sadistic.

“Fuck baby, watch those teeth..” Yuki sighs, cheeks flushed and fingers twitching, sticky and glistening in the soft lighting coated in her own arousal. Her climax, obviously.

A few minutes pass, both of the older women coming down from their high and you still kneeling all pretty and behaved next to them, a single droplet of your saliva running down the corner of your mouth. A dog, a filthy bitch ready to be pushed over and taken, like an animal. You want, no, need it.

Yuki is the first to move and ties her long, golden hair into a ponytail. Fuck. Finally. A clear sign you’re finally going to get what you have been craving since you returned home- Yuki fucking you stupid with her pretty, clear strap, the ponytail keeping her hair out of her face as she bullies the silicone cock into your sweet cunt.

Now Shoko is crawling over to you, and releases the ropes while carefully caressing the red marks it left on your soft skin. “Ready, Angel? Think you can take it? Just relax, let her take control” She muses, kissing up and down your jaw and throat, her pearly teeth grazing your skin.

The mattress sinks at the sudden weight next to you and large hands hold onto your shoulders, massaging them as her hot breath fans across your nape. “How d’you want it, princess? Keep your mouth busy while I fuck you from b’hind?” She giggles, her bright voice cutting the tension built up around you, and you nod.

“Use your words, cutie” she hums, kisses tickling your shoulders, your neck all the way up to your ears. “Ye-yes! Yes please, Sir!” You bark out, voice whiny and trembling and breaking ever so slightly.

Sir. Sir.

You don’t remember when you first called Yuki the honorific, but afterwards she was relentless with you, didn’t stop fucking into you and coaxing one orgasm after another out of you. That day something snapped in her, and you’ve been addicted to the sweet violence since then. Yuki could snap you in two like a twig, if she wanted to. Of course she doesn’t, but she still makes use of her strength when holding you down to fuck into you while she’ll be telling you how much she loves and adores you.

Consensual, of course. Neither Shoko or Yuki would have ever touched you in the first place, if you hadn’t established a safe word. They might fuck and treat you like a whore in bed, but they still adore you more than words could describe, you’re still -and always will be- their sweet girl.

What’s that saying? Gentleman in the streets, freak in the sheets? Yea, that’s what they are.

Not a second too much, and you were pushed over, your ass flush against her groin with long fingers entangled in your hair which were pushing your head into Shoko’s cunt.

In other words: heaven. This was heaven right here, right now. Shoko’s enticing scent is making you dizzy, her taste makes you feel lightheaded. It’s like she’s choking you, without actually putting a finger on you. Kinky.

“Go ahead, Angel. Use your pretty mouth, won’t you now?” The brunette engages with quite the excited look on her face. She always gets a little.. giddy, actually, when you’re about to lap and lick at her cunt, well aware that you won’t disappoint. Your vigor and your excitement to be lucky enough for Shoko to wrap her legs around your head, as well as your -natural, if I might add- endurance and talent at such things makes for quite the exciting combination.

“Yea c’mon bunny, don’t mind me..” Yuki groans as she slowly, veeery slowly, bullies the tip into your twitching hole, eyes fixated and pupils blown wide. Yuki looks feral, and she very much feels the same.

Shoko? Shoko is lost, entirely lost in the feeling of your tongue pushing against her clit with a sweet mewl. Sometimes she wishes she was born a male, or at least had a dick like one, curious how it would feel like hammering into your mouth, pouty lips clinging around it. And fuck, she looks so good. So pretty, dark hair a little disheveled and darker eyes staring right into your soul. Can she see it? See your admiration and respect for her? How you’re just so eager to make her feel good, to be good?

The sudden snap of the blonde’s hips redirects your focus back on the strap buried in your cunt. The pleasurable pain of her stretching you out, filling the entire space and the tip kissing your cervix, it all just feels so fucking good. But when she starts to move, the fake cock dragging along your gummy walls and covered in your candy-sweet honey, it threatens to drown you.

As Yuki fucks into you over and over again, focused on making you cum -finally!-, the grasp on your hair tightens like a vice, reminding you of the task at hand. With a muffled moan you’re quick to lick and suck at the nub between your lips and Shoko involuntarily bucks her hips, still just a little sensitive from her former climax.

“So good, so damn good..” Yuki chants, each word accentuated with the snap of her hips towards you with a tight grip on your hips and hair.

“Atta Girl, just like that..!” The doctor praises at the same time, both of their praise encouraging you to surrender entirely.

Even the erotic sins of Sodom and Gomorra couldn’t compare to the events occurring in this very bedroom, your mewls and suppressed moans coaxed out one after another.

You were close, so very close to cumming, but would Yuki let you? No scratch that, would Shoko let you? Your lips tremble against her swollen cunt as your tongue runs along her slit, savoring the taste and how it’s sticking onto the tip of the muscle. If you make her cum, surely she’ll let you climax as well, so you shift your attention from the filling sensation of the special grade’s cock to the medic’s reaction and occasional twitch of her legs.

Picking up the pace a little, you’re now lapping at the sex like your life depends on it. Such an obedient dog. Shoko’s hand replaces Yuki’s, pulling at it, pulling you closer. But the blonde’s hand won’t stay dormant and finds its way to your hips, accompanying the other as her fingertips dig into the soft flesh, her strap thrusting into you relentlessly.

“Fuck, fuck pup, keep going!” Mrs. Ieiri pants huskily, gaze switching between you and Yuki, and with Yuki cowering over you and her errect nipples rubbing against your back even she can’t hold back quiet huffs and shaky moans.

You’re surrounded by them, their scent, their noises. Yuki’s tight hold on you, the stinging pain of Shoko scratching at your scalp, pulling your hair- it’s all too much. Fuck, is she cumming? Must be, your tongue and entire mouth is coated in her, drinking it up afraid to forthirst. Shit, Yuki is picking up the pace, isn’t she? It feels so good, so very good, the cock bullying into you over and over, her heavy panting against your spine driving you crazy. Too much, it’s too much it’s all just too much for you to take, poor thing. Threatens to spill over, your climax. Can’t hold it, can’t hold it back any longer, you have waited too long for this. What? What’s that? Oh god, Yuki’s hand circling your throbbing clit, is she trying to kill you? Whining and whimpering, like a puppy. Their puppy, such a good girl, so good for them.

Shoko’s moving, turning around, facing you. Finally. A bitemark on her bottom lip, did she bite it? Fuck, can’t think about that right now, not with her hammering into you like there’s no tomorrow. You can’t take anymore, the sensational sting combining with intoxicating pleasure, you’re so damn close to spilling. But you can’t, not yet. Not yet!

“Beg, and I might allow it..” she whispers against your ear, hands roaming over your body, lips pressed against your temple once again. A promise, or a threat? Might. She might allow it.

“Please- pret-pretty please, please! ‘M begging.. begging you, mhmpf please!!” You bark and mewl and beg, shaking all over, gasping every time she plunges back into your fluttering hole. “Please Sho, Sir, fu- fuck please!” A needy whine, desperate. You’re desperate, shameless. Nothing else matters right now. Fuck, shit, damn! The tip catches at the entrance, pulls at it slightly. Is it intentional? Yes of course it is, silly thing. She’s teasing, she always is. Not as much as Shoko, but enough. Enough for you right now to moan and pant. Bitch in heat, that’s what you are. So good, please Shoko just- just..!

“Look at you, so cute” she chuckles, clearly holding the reins right now. You wouldn’t have it any other way. Your face is flushed, big puppy eyes begging her, hopeful.

“Cum for me baby, go ahead..” Shoko finally allows, pulling your hair back so you look at her, sleepy eyes watching you closely. Finally, thank god finally! If Yuki heard? Oh fuck, she definitely did, proven by her deep strokes. Like a jackhammer, in and out. Deep, digging and drilling into your sore cunt, wet smacks and squelches combined with your pitiful moans and mewls the only sound within these walls. Her calloused hands, so used to delivering heavy hits and exorcising curses of all kinds of grades, massaging and kneading the soft, sweet flesh of your body trapped underneath her. Her lips kissing and nipping at your jaw, your throat, hickeys forming a trail, the same lips that wrap around her cigarettes or the opening of a bottle after another sorcerer lived or died. And you’re convinced you’ll surely die reaching your orgasm, but it’s worth it. It’s all worth it, for them. Just for them, only for your girlfriends.

You’re completely silent for a moment. Neither of the two women stop the assault on your body. She’s a devil, the devil Lucifer, you know she can put a stop to this with ease. She’s sadistic, she likes to see you suffer and break you down so she can put you back together afterwards, heal your bruises and cuts. Please don’t, please Shoko, let me cum. Be good to me, I’m praying to you. Don’t be mean, not now, not this time, waited too long. Like an Angel she’s fucking into you and you could bet it’s the halo on top of her head igniting your skin, not her plump lips. She’s getting you there, Yuki will make you cum, surely she will. But will she stop afterwards? Will she show mercy on your bruised and swollen cunt? You doubt it, experienced enough to know otherwise. It doesn’t matter, nothing matters. Only this moment, being surrounded by the two most important people of your life and them making, and letting you cum.

But something is missing, you’re so very close but it’s just not enough, and it ruins you. Crying out for release, silently praying to your gods to touch you more, to help you get there. Shoko understands, knows you so well. “Cum for me, now” assertive reminder causing you to shiver, her hand tightening around your throat. Fuck yes, just like that Shoko, keep going. You never realized how much you liked to be choked, but Shoko, with her expert hands and great knowledge of the human body, opened a whole new world for you. She will take you to the brink of blacking out, and then release her grip on your throat for oxygenated blood to rush back into your brain. Like she is right now, all while whispering sweet words into your ears. Yuki slows down just a little, but only for her thrusts to hit deeper and deeper, filling you to the brim, digits circling and stimulating your clit, other hand leaving imprints on your hip.

As Shoko releases her grip, your climax crashes down on you, engulfing you and every little nerve of your body. You’re on fire, it feels like liquid magma replaced your blood coursing through your veins, and you cry out. Of course Yuki isn’t stopping, why would she? You’re like a drug, seeing and, at least she’s convinced of it, feeling you clench around her strap all while shaking and twitching underneath her, caging you in to coax another orgasm out of you- stronger than fentanyl, than any other substance.

“Another one?” Yuki hums, the question not directed at you but at Shoko. With a sly smirk and nod, the special grade picks up the pace again and Shoko’s hand finds its way back to your throat, enveloping it gently, her thumb grazing over your skin.

You’re at their mercy now, little bunny, enjoy.

First series of mine is done!! Thanks for reading it hehe 👉👈 if you have any suggestions or requests for the next Drabble, lemme know 👀 Also I'm so sorry for the delay, oops.

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streamafterlaughter · 5 months ago

Text

Safe

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summary: a night out with your friends turns sour, but you’re rescued by an unexpected hero

A/N: i wrote a chapter based on this post for my main fic, but feel a desperate need to write it again putting more detail into it bc i love a fictional man covered in blood idk what to tell you!!! let me know if you want a part II, im feeling a miniverse comin’ on (dw, chapter 23 of FD is in the works, i promise!) reblogs and comments always appreciated!

tags/tw: friends to lovers, mentions of sexual harassment, blood, violence (eddie gets in a fight), swearing, slut shaming, confessions, drunkish!eddie. (lmk if i missed something!) fluff, angst, slight hurt/comfort. reader and eddie are about 22-23, out of high school, happy etc etc. best friend!robin and best friend!steve feature, of course.

—

Your friendship had been simple, at first. You and Eddie had met as kids, before boys had cooties and girls were lame. Eddie had been cornered on the playground, by some giants in the grade above you. They'd shoved him against the chain link fence, their greasy leader demanding he hand over his lunch money. When Eddie blubbered that he didn’t have any, that he hadn’t eaten lunch in weeks, the goons cackled at him, shoving him to the ground while calling him things like “trailer trash.” You couldn’t stand it, even at eleven years old. The poor kid, with hair buzzed closely to his scalp, dressed in all black, carrying around a battered notebook with doodles of dragons on its cover. Your face had warmed with anger, hands balled into fists ready to swing on the group that would outnumber you five to two, or five to one if you were being realistic. This kid clearly wasn’t a fighter.

“Hey!” You had shouted, stomping your worn out converse against the mulch of the playground. “What the hell are you doing, Jared?” You hadn’t been afraid to get in the kid’s face, brows furrowed together as you jabbed your tiny finger into his puffed out chest. “What’s he ever done to you, huh? I don’t think it’s his fault your mother left.” You know now, it wasn’t the nicest thing to say, but it had worked. Jared’s goons had gone silent, anticipating his retort, but all he’d done was cry. What a bitch.

When he’d run, tail tucked between his legs, you’d turned to the cowering boy behind you, offering your hand. “You okay?”

He’d nodded, clearly still shaken up but trying to be brave. “I can take care of myself.” Of course, it had been embarrassing. Not because you were a girl, or younger than him, but you were braver. You didn’t give a shit what people thought of you. Even then, he could tell. You were fucking cool.

”Yeah, sure looked like it. Whatever. I’m Y/n.” You held out your hand to him again, this time to shake, like you were a seasoned lawyer, or something.

“Eddie.” He’d taken your hand, given it a brief shake, but you could tell he was nervous by the way your palm stuck to his.

”Hi, Eddie. You wanna walk to Benny’s with me? Get some burgers?”

He’d shaken his head. “I don’t have money.”

You’d only shrugged. “I got it.” You didn’t think mentioning that Benny was your uncle, or that you and your friends could always eat free, was worth mentioning. From that day on, you and Eddie had been inseparable.

—

The Hideout is loud. You’re wrapped around your best friend’s arm as he leads you through the bar. It’s the only time you’ve seen this place busy, let alone filled with people that don’t qualify for a discount at Denny’s.

The crowd must be the fault of the band. They're full of life on the tiny stage in the back of the bar, somehow convincing patrons to take to the sticky wooden floor to dance.

“You wanna drink, sweets?” You hear him even over the loud music, like a siren call meant only for you.

“Yes, please!” You look up at Eddie, who’s already staring at you. His rich brown eyes sparkle in the dancing stage lights, and you find your tongue in knots at the sight of him.

He nods, sliding his jacket from your shoulders before seating you at a table. “I’ll be right back!” He promises before skipping off to the bar. You keep your eyes trained on him, hypnotized by the way he glided towards the bar, weaving between the mass of gyrating bodies.

You can’t exactly pinpoint when your feelings for him started changing. You assume it had to have been high school. He started growing his hair out, dressing in leather and denim, and listening to a lot of heavy metal. Something about it was attractive to you, watching your best friend become the man he is now, at twenty three years old.

Even with an exterior most find scary, Eddie is still the kindest soul you know. That’s what really pulled you in. He’s always treated you with kindness and care, never once letting you leave his house angry, and knowing just what to say to calm you down. He always makes sure you’re home safe after a night drinking, sometimes even willing to forfeit his own fun to drive you to your place, or crash at his trailer.

Of course, these feelings have stayed stuffed deep, deep down. You can’t bring yourself to ruin what you have with him, risking your closest friendship to maybe be told what you want to hear.

“Hey! You still in there?” Eddie waves his decorated hand a few inches from your face, and you’re dragged back to earth. He places your drink on the table in front of you.

“Yeah, sorry.”

“Penny for your thoughts?” He rests his chin on his knuckles, full attention on you, and you feel your face warm.

“Just happy to be out with you is all.” Not a lie, but not exactly the truth. Safe.

“Alright.” He’s never been one to pry. “You wanna dance?” The song has changed to something slower, and you try not to read into his timing as you nod your head cautiously, taking Eddie’s hand as he leads you to the floor.

Eddie places his hands on either of your hips, and you can’t help but stiffen. “This alright?” He must have felt it too.

“Yes, yeah,” You stumble to reassure him, nervous you’ll scare him off. He’s always been such a gentleman, so careful with you.

You drape your arms around his neck loosely, casually. Safely. Still just two friends, swaying to some angst ridden tune you can’t understand the words to.

—

It’s later when Steve and Robin arrive, already drunk from spending the night at a concert in the city. You’re still not down for the count, and Eddie’s nursing his sixth drink of the night as the music has switched from guitar driven to computer beats coming from a turntable.

“Since when does The Hideout hire DJs?” Robin shouts over the bass driven music, eyes squinting in the bright lights.

“Ever since the place sold to some big wig in Indy, they’ve been doing this shit on weekends!” Eddie informs her as Steve starts talking about how “this is actually a great business tactic.” You decide now is a good time to slip back to the bar for a refill.

Unfortunately, you are one of about fifty people to have that idea, and you groan as you fight to find an open space along the counter. You mumble “excuse me” after “sorry” after “move, please!” until you’ve almost reached the front. As you’re about to order, you feel a hand squeeze your ass.

You whip your head around, and come face to face with a large, muscular man in a tight t-shirt and even tighter jeans.

“Hey, baby,” He winks, the disgusting smirk on his face sending a chill through your body. “You here all by yourself, gorgeous?” Your throat tightens. This is what it’s like, you know that. You shouldn’t be by yourself, that was your mistake. Your throat tightens, impossibly dry, before looking back up at this man. He is seemingly a foot and a half taller than you, likely able to break you in half using only his bicep, and he’s is standing way too close. You can even smell the whiskey on his tongue. “Uh, well,”

“Cmon, let’s go dance, huh?” He interrupts, snatching your wrist with an iron grip, and you squeeze your eyes shut as he leads you towards the dance floor, already formulating an escape route. You’ll say you need to use the bathroom, then you’ll find your friends and leave. Easy enough, right? Unfortunately as you reach the dance floor, the song slows again and you find yourself flush against this beast of a man, his big arms caging you into his chest. You feel the tears start to well in your eyes, blurring your already obscured vision. Your heart drops into your stomach when you realize you are completely, fully, and hopelessly trapped.

—

“Sooo,” Robin turns to Eddie, who’s been staring across into space, daydreaming about you for the last five minutes. “Where’s your girl?”

“What?” He’d heard her, but he wants to hear it again. And again and again.

“Your baby, dingus! You’re one true-“

“Would you shut up?” He interrupts her slurring of teasing, aching jabs, feeling his face heat up with every syllable. “She’s not my- y’know, she’s not mine.”

“Oh, please!” Steve snorts, causing Eddie to whip his head to look at him. “We all know she’s yours, and you’re hers, and all that romantic bullshit, okay? No use trying to squirm out of it. Be grateful you got that much. We all know she loves you.”

He rolls his eyes, but his heart is skipping with each word. He wants to believe them, desperately. He can’t bring himself to have those hopes, though, not about you. He’d only disappoint you, or scare you off when he got too close. It’s better, keeping you at a distance. Safer.

“Is that… No,” Robin looks beyond Eddie, and he turns to follow her gaze. He finds you easily, the only figure he’d recognize in such a loud, multicolored environment. You’re squished against a boulder of a man as you sway to the music, but he can’t see your face. Eddie feels his heart catch in his throat as he turns back to his friends.

“See? I told you she’s not mine.” He clears his throat when he hears his own voice crack. Not fucking now.

“Who is that guy?” Steve asks, craning his neck to get a better view.

“Probably just some club sleaze, she’s probably not even having fun.” Robin shrugs. Her comment clicks in Eddie’s brain before it clicks in her own, though.

“I gotta go.” He shoves himself from the table.

“Should I go with him?”

Robin shrugs. “That dude is gigantic. Maybe watch his back.”

—

“Hey, um,” The song has ended, and you need to get the fuck out of here. “I’ll be right back, I gotta use the ladies’ room,” You peel yourself away from him, but he grabs your arm before you can.

“Nuh uh, you can use the bathroom at my place. C’mon.” There will be no talking yourself out of this. Usually you can confuse a man into leaving you alone, but this guy’s different. You can sense the danger, the complete lack of empathy, like it’s a scent he’s giving off. You have to make a scene.

You twist your arm, writhing to get out of his grip, when you feel the cooling rings of a familiar hand on your shoulder. “Hey, sweetheart,” Eddie’s voice is low, so this man/monster can’t hear him. “I’m gonna get you out of here. Hang on.” He moves in front of you, between you and the giant causing him to drop your arm. There’s an angry red ring of his lasting grip around your wrist. “You gotta problem, buddy?” The guy puffs his chest out at Eddie, like some weird, animalistic instinct to seem bigger. Like he needs that advantage.

“Yeah, I do. Why were your hands on my girl?”

You try not to think about the words too much. Despite the situation though, you feel your heart skip. Steve joins him beside you, placing his hand on your other shoulder protectively.

“Your girl, huh? Well your girl’s a fuckin’ slut then, she’s been dancing with me for the last ten minutes.”

“What the fuck did you just call her, you prick?”

“You heard me bitch boy, she’s a slut! And I like my girls dirty.” Before Eddie can respond, the guy swings his arm into Eddie’s unsuspecting face as you watch, frozen and helpless. Your hands fly to your mouth to muffle the shriek, but you catch the attention of some nearby patrons.

Eddie doesn’t go down, though. The adrenaline keeps him on his feet. “Oh, we’re doin’ this now?” Eddie smirks as he wipes the blood from his split lip. “Cmon, I know you got more in ya than that. You’re massive!” Eddie taunts him before launching at the guy, managing to double him over with a punch to the gut. “You’ll have to do more than that if you want her, big guy. I’ll lay down my fuckin’ life in this bar for that woman.”

The crowd has now turned their attention to where Eddie’s got the brute in a headlock. He gets one more punch in before his opponent breaks out of his grasp, sending his elbow straight into Eddie’s nose. “Oh, ho, ho,” Eddie cackles maniacally as he lifts away from the counter, blood now dripping from his nostrils into his mouth, staining his skin and his shirt. “Look at you, tough guy.” He spits a mouthful of blood onto the bar floor. “Real big of you beatin’ on someone a quarter your size.”

Before anyone else can make a move, the bouncers are rushing up behind them, escorting both men out the front entrance while you follow behind with Steve and Robin. It takes six guys to move the giant, leaving Eddie to comply with the disgruntled manager. You watch as your adversary curses at Eddie before walking into the night, disappearing before anyone could think to call the cops.

“Oh my god, what the fuck?!” Robin is laughing nervously as she looks between you and Eddie, then to Steve with that annoying, know-it-all glint in her eyes.

“Eddie, he could have fuckin’ killed you!” Steve, ever the babysitter, scolds his friend with an elbow to his ribs, causing Eddie to wince in pain.

“Yeah, maybe, but if it meant keeping her safe-,” He cuts himself off as he meets your teary eyes. “Oh, no. Sweets, what’s wrong?”

You shake your head, barely able to look at the bloody boy in front of you. He’s hurt because of you. You were supposed to keep him safe.

“I’m so sorry, Eddie.” You whisper, afraid your voice will betray you for speaking at full volume. “You shouldn’t have done that, I shouldn’t have let you.” The tears are warm on your cheeks when they spill, and as quickly as they do, you have six arms wrapped around you.

—

“Get some rest, we’ll see you guys tomorrow.” You shut the cab door behind you before following Eddie into his trailer. You don’t want to be alone tonight, and Eddie has graciously offered a sleepover at his place.

“How’s your face?” You ask, already on your way to the freezer for an ice pack.

“I’m fine, honey, I promise.” His voice says otherwise, low and scratchy from a night of straining it. “How are you doing, though?”

It’s a loaded question. How are you supposed to feel, watching your best friend risk his life for you? You’re grateful, sure, but the guilt eats at you still. “I’m just so, so sorry Eddie,” You carefully lift your hand to caress his swollen cheek. “You really didn't have to do that.”

“What was I supposed to do? Let him hurt you? I couldn’t live with myself.” He shakes his head, wincing in pain. “I meant what I said. I’d risk my life to keep you safe.”

You shake your head, not accepting his answer. “Why?” It’s meek, barely a whisper as you blot the remaining blood from his lip.

“What do you mean why?” His words are muffled by the tissue.

You huff, getting upset despite yourself. “You’re telling me you’d put yourself in danger if it meant keeping me out of it? What’s the point? Why do that to yourself because I’m too stupid to make the right decisions? What do you gain from that?”

He shakes his head, clearly frustrated. “Do I have to gain something from it? I do it because I love you, y/n. Simple as that.” You gape at him, and he rolls his eyes, the beginning of a smirk twitching on his face. “Do I have to spell it out for you?”

“It would be helpful, yes.” You’re just about begging now, the nervous sweat causing your shirt to stick to you.

“Sweets, I accepted that I would die for you a long fuckin’ time ago. If it meant keeping you happy, I would tie myself to the train tracks. Or, in this case, let some fucker twice my size beat the living shit out of me.”

You can’t accept it, logically. Your brain won’t let you believe any of his claims. “But I don’t-“

“No.” His voice is stern, almost scolding. “No more of that ‘I don’t deserve you’ shit. Okay? Absolutely not. Because you do. You saved my life all those years ago, and I promised myself I’d make sure to protect yours, too. You are my best friend, and the absolute love of my life, so I’m gonna give you everything I’ve got.” He laces his fingers with yours, and you watch as his rings catch the light.

“It’s okay if you don’t feel that way about me, I’ll never ask you for that, it wouldn’t be fair. But I can’t stand by when you’re in trouble, it’s not what I do.”

Your heart is fighting to free itself from your ribcage. It wants to jump from your skin, straight into Eddie’s open palms. Though the ever present coward in you wishes to curl up inside yourself and hide from him, everything else in your body is being pulled towards him, compelled as if by nature.

Before you even notice you’re crying again, Eddie wraps himself around your shaking frame, rubbing soothing patterns on your back as you sob, open mouthed and ugly, into his t-shirt. “It’s okay, sweetheart. I’m right here.” He coos, and you focus on his breathing, matching the pace to calm the stutter of your cries.

You claw at his jacket, inhaling his scent of cigarettes and pine soap. You need him closer. He tightens his grip on you, and you look up to face him. His own cheeks are wet with tears, his eyes screwed shut trying to stifle the bite of the wracking sobs you know the strength of well. This is the only chance you’re getting, so you move with calculation. Despite the anxious pounding of your heart, and everything in your head telling you that he’s not yours and never could be, you crane your neck to reach Eddie’s split and swollen lips, squeezing your eyes shut as you place your mouth on his, ever so gently.

Before Eddie can react, you’re gone, face inches away from him as his eyes flutter open. “Whoa. Uh, w-what… what are you doing?” He sputters, face now bright red, and you feel your own cheeks blush.

“I’m- I am so sorry. I shouldn’t have assumed… ” You cover your mouth with your hand to hide the shame, feeling the fire in your stomach. You have just ruined years of friendship, and for one stupid kiss! But Eddie’s beaming, and he’s still gripping you close to him. “I've just wanted to do that for so long.” You admit shyly, shifting against his grip, ready to retreat, but he holds you tighter.

“Can you do it again?” His voice is more confident now. You’re not sure you’ve heard him correctly, but when you look at him, it’s undeniable.

You mirror his smile, nodding before leaning into him again. He makes the connection, taking the lead as your body contorts around his, lips locking together as he holds you flush against him. His lips are so soft, and he’s so gentle with you, even though you can tell he’s eager, like maybe he’s also wanted to do this for a while. The thought causes you to smile against his lips, and you feel his own lips stretch against yours as your hands move from his shoulders to his hair.

One of his hands moves from your waist to caress your face, holding your jaw like a precious pearl he’s discovered after years at sea. Your tears fall freely now, ones of overwhelming love for Eddie, ones you never could have hoped to shed, content letting them simmer in the pit of your throat if it meant keeping your best friend. You’re breathless when he lets you go, fighting the urge to chase after his lips. After almost a decade of wondering what Eddie would taste like, what kissing him would feel like, now you get to know. “I have been in love with you since that day on the playground,” He confesses, tightening his arms around your waist to keep you close. “But I’m such a chicken shit, I didn’t wanna ruin anything. You were so sweet to me, I couldn’t risk losing that, losing you.” The words seem to spill from him now, like he’s been craving to tell you. You suppose he has.

You take in the sight of your best friend, battered and bruised for the sake of your honor, like a knight thrown into battle without armor. He’s beautiful, even in black and blue. You bring your hand to his cheek, rubbing small circles on his skin as he leans into your touch. You could stay here forever, you think. “I love you too, Eds. I have for as long as I can remember.” He smiles at you, lip splitting again but he doesn’t even flinch. You return the grin, feeling your cheeks ache from how wide you’ve stretched your mouth. “Thank you for keeping me safe.” You kiss him again, letting yourself taste the blood he’d spilled for you, a silent promise that you’ll make sure he never has to again.

taglist @children-of-the-grave :p

#friends to lovers #best friends to lovers #eddie x reader #eddie x you #eddie munson #st #st4 #eddie munson fanfic #angst #fluff #stranger things #strangerthingscentral #f!reader #willow writes sins #i keep forgetting to use that tag bc i made it when i was 12

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goldfades · 1 year ago

Text

✮ 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐯𝐞, jump then fall au

au masterlist! masterlist!

♡ ─ word count | 2.7k

♡ ─ summary | cece has been working for adam for a month, forming a bond with paloma. she comforts paloma during a tantrum and later helps adam when paloma won't stop crying, late into the night. they discover the meaning of paloma's name as they bond over it.

♡ ─ warnings | toddler tantrums, sleep-deprivation LMAO, um nothing else (i think)

♡ ─ taglist | @literatureluster @itsnotgray @valluvsu (fill in form in my navigation in you are interested!)

♡ ─ ev's notes | after weeks of writer's block, we GOT OVER IT. war is overrrrr, finally. we survived the great war. anyways, this chapter is so sweet and i love it so much. i also realized my love for adam is very much eternal and undying, i will love him more than anyone else 4ever and idc. should i start a go-fund-me so i could get his jersey?? help a broke college student get her fav hockey player's jersey✊🏼✊🏼 also happy spooky seasonnnnn!!!

also if anyone has au thoughts please send them in for my entertainment, i love love LOVE asks.

It had been a month since Cece had started working for Adam and she has loved every second of it.

Well, maybe not every second but Paloma was the sweetest girl she's ever worked for. She was funny and easy to work with, unlike some of the other kids she's worked with. Cece had quickly adapted to the rhythm of the new job, finding ways to connect with Paloma and make their time together enjoyable and overall fun. She had become an big part of Adam and Paloma's daily routine, and it was clear to everyone that Paloma adored Cece.

Cece was sitting comfortably on the floor next to Paloma, watching her favorite movie, "Beauty and the Beast" for the fifth time she couldn't help but smile at the toddler's enthusiasm. Paloma's eyes were glued to the screen, and she occasionally mimicked the characters' actions or lines with her limited vocabulary, making Cece laugh in the process. She was adorable, her heart melted with every little word she mimicked.

As Belle and the Beast danced in the iconic ballroom scene, Paloma attempted to mimic their graceful movements, stumbling slightly in her excitement. Cece chuckled and gently held Paloma's hand, helping her "dance" along with the characters.

She laughed as Paloma kept her dance up, "You're doing good, sweetheart!"

Paloma beamed happily at Cece's words of encouragement. Her tiny feet shuffled clumsily on the floor as she continued to "dance" with Belle and the Beast. It was a sweet sight, and Cece couldn't help but feel a deep affection for the little girl.

Right as the dance ended, the apartment door had opened. "I'm home!" Adam's voice rung out through the entire apartment. As he walked into the living room, he smiled at the scene in front of him.

"Hey," Cece greeted him with an equally bright smile as him, still sitting on the floor next to Paloma, who had now shifted her attention from the movie to her dad's arrival.

Adam bent down and scooped Paloma up into his arms, eliciting giggles from the toddler. "Did you have a fun day with Cece, sweetheart?"

It was sight she had grown used to now, Adam and Cece had become a staple in her life even if it only has been a month. She couldn't help but feel like she was a part of the family, somehow, even if she wasn't exactly blood-related.

Paloma nodded enthusiastically, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "Daddy, dance!" she exclaimed, her arms moving in an attempt to recreate the dance moves she had just seen on the screen.

Adam laughed, sharing an amused look with Cece. "You've been dancing, huh?"

Cece nodded, her smile warm. "She was quite the dancer, just like Belle."

Adam chuckled as he watched Paloma's attempts at dancing. "I see that. Thanks for keeping her entertained, Cece."

"No problem," Cece replied, a light tint of blush coming onto her cheeks. Adam continued to play with Paloma, making her giggle and laugh. Cece watched the father-daughter duo with a fond smile, her heart warmed by the sweet scene before her.

After a quick lunch, Adam had to go back for a team meeting so Cece had to stay with Paloma a bit more, which usually wouldn't have been a problem ─ except now, Paloma had suddenly decided to have a tantrum because of her father leaving.

Cece tried her best to soothe Paloma as Adam prepared to leave for his meeting. She understood how difficult it could be for a toddler when their parent had to leave, especially when they were as attached as Paloma wa.

As Adam headed towards the door, Paloma's cries grew louder, and she reached out for him, tears streaming down her cheeks. Cece held Paloma close, trying to comfort her. "It's okay, sweetie. Daddy will be back soon."

Adam paused at the door, his heart aching as he looked back at his daughter. He wanted to stay and comfort her, but he also knew he had responsibilities. "I'll be back soon, sweetheart," he reassured her, his voice filled with love. "Cece will take care of you."

Cece nodded at that and gave him a quick nod, gesturing for him to leave. He sighed and nodded, exiting the apartment as Paloma's cries continued for a while. Cece did her best to distract her with toys and games, hoping to ease her distress until Adam returned.

They played with her building blocks, read some of her favorite books, and even had a little tea party with her stuffed animals. Slowly but surely, Paloma's tears began to subside, replaced by the occasional hiccup.

Cece kept a watchful eye on the time, knowing that Adam would return from his meeting soon. She didn't want Paloma to be too upset when he got back. As they continued to play, she whispered comforting words to Paloma. "Daddy will be back before you know it, sweetheart. He loves you very much."

Paloma, still a bit sniffly, looked up at Cece with her big blue, teary eyes and nodded. Cece couldn't help but smile at the toddler's resilience. Paloma gave her a whine and gave reached out her arms towards her, gesturing for her to pick her up.

Cece gladly picked Paloma up and held her close, cradling her gently in her arms. Paloma's sniffles gradually turned into contented sighs as she rested against Cece's shoulder.

──

Cece awoke with a jolt as she felt Paloma being carried from her arms and Cece almost screamed until she realized it was just Adam. Relief washed over her as she blinked away the remnants of sleep, "Shit, you scared me."

"Sorry," Adam laughed softly, his voice filled with warmth as he held Paloma against his chest. "I'm back. How was my little princess while I was gone?"

"She was, um... she was good." Cece yawned, her eyes watering at that. Sudden embarrassment washed over her as she realized that she fell asleep on the job but before she had the chance to apologize, it seemed he had read her mind.

"Don't apologize, I get it." Adam offered Cece a reassuring smile as she nodded, gratefully.

"Thank you," she laughed softly as she got up from the sofa, standing in front of him. She never really realized just how tall he was but suddenly, she felt like he was towering over her. Sudden butterflies emerged in her stomach as she looked up at him and they gazed at one another.

"Well─"

"I─"

They both spoke in union before they paused, looking at one another for a second until they laughed. God, they were so in sync. "You, um, you go first," Adam smiled down at her, Paloma looking very pleased with the scene before her.

"I was just gonna say, I have a Chem test tomorrow and I haven't studied for it," she explained groggily, exhaustion clear in her face.

Adam couldn't help but feel disappointment building in his stomach as he heard those words come out of her mouth. "Oh, yeah of course. Go, don't worry, I'll take of our Paloma." It had come out so naturally he almost didn't catch it. Our Paloma. It sounded so... perfect and Adam could feel himself getting used to staying it, our Paloma, our girl.

Luca's words kept repeating in his mind as he waited for her response, "No girls." But as he stared into her eyes, her big, beautiful, deep─

"Yeah, our Paloma," she repeated softly, a warm smile spreading across her face. "Thank you, Adam."

"Of course, no problem. Um, get home safe and good luck on your test tomorrow."

As soon as she reached the door, Paloma whined. You looked back at Adam knowingly as Paloma started reaching for Cece.

"Hey, hey." Adam started trying to distract Paloma which did nothing but make it worse, somehow. "Princess, it's alright, she's coming tomorrow."

Paloma's whines grew louder as she continued to reach for Cece, her little arms outstretched. Adam didn't know what to do; she usually stopped crying after he comforted her, but this time, it seemed she only wanted Cece.

Cece hesitated at the door, torn between her responsibilities and the adorable toddler who clearly didn't want her to go. She looked at Adam with a questioning expression, silently asking for his help.

"It's fine, Cece. I can deal with her." Adam's voice was gentle, and he tried to hide any disappointment he felt about the situation. He walked closer to Cece, giving her an understanding smile. "You should get some rest and study for your test. I've got this."

Cece sighed in relief at Adam's understanding. She bent down and gently placed a kiss on Paloma's forehead. "I'll see you tomorrow, sweetheart," she whispered softly to the toddler before reluctantly stepping out of the apartment.

Adam watched her go, feeling a mixture of gratitude and disappointment. He knew that Cece needed to focus on her studies, but a part of him wished she could stay. He turned his attention back to Paloma, who was still crying in his arms.

"It's just you and me, kiddo," he said with a soft smile, carrying the crying Paloma back to the living room. He was determined to make the evening as comforting (as he could) for his daughter.

As the night wore on, Adam did his best to comfort Paloma. He played with her, read her a bedtime story, and even sang her a lullaby, but nothing seemed to calm her down completely. The toddler's cries continued, growing more tired and desperate as the hours passed.

He felt like he didn't know Paloma anymore, he spent less time with her than he had done in the past. Was he being a terrible dad by prioritizing his career over Paloma? He didn't know, he felt truly helpless as his ears began to sore from the constant crying from his daughter.

It was around 1 am when Adam realized he was at his wit's end. Paloma had been crying for hours, and he was exhausted and frustrated. He felt like he was going to go insane, especially because none of his family was here to give him a break. That was until he remembered: Cece.

He pulled out his phone and sent a text message to Cece, his fingers typing quickly.

Adam: Hey, sorry to bother you, but Paloma won't stop crying, and I don't know what to do.

He felt guilty for even asking, knowing Cece probably has her own worries and problems. But he truly had no one else to turn to, his body sore from practice and he was fatigued from all the crying, on top of everything.

His phone started buzzed almost immediately and he looked at the caller ID: Cece was calling him. He slid to answer,

"Cece, I'm sorry, did I wake you up?"

"No, I've been up." Cece laughed through the speaker. But Adam could hear the exhaustion in her laugh, as much as she tried to hide it.

The guiltiness hit him like a truck when he heard her voice. He almost wanted to cry, "I'm sorry, Cece. I just had... no one else to call who I trusted."

That statement made Cece's heart swell. He trusted her? "Oh, Adam don't apologize. That's what I'm here for. Do you want me to come?"

"No, no. It's too late and I don't want anything to happen."

Another soft laugh escaped her before she started hearing some crying from his side. She was almost concerned, thinking it was him until it registered in her sleep-deprived mind that it was just Paloma. "I'm a big girl Adam, I'll be there in 10."

Before he could protest, she hung up and Adam let out an exhausted sigh before he turned to Paloma, who was still crying. How much tears could one little girl have? Adam thought to himself.

Cece arrived at Adam's apartment right on time, her heart heavy with worry for both him and Paloma. She had come as quickly as she could, not wanting to leave Adam to handle the situation alone any longer. There wasn't any traffic because it was 1 in the morning, the only real plus of this whole thing.

When she entered the apartment, she found Adam sitting on the couch, looking utterly exhausted, with Paloma crying in his arms. She had never seen him so tired, his hair messy and his eyebags visible. Without hesitation, Cece went over and gently took Paloma into her arms.

"Hey there, princess," she cooed softly, rocking Paloma gently. "It's okay, I'm here now. Shhh, it's alright."

Paloma's cries gradually began to subside as Cece worked her magic. Adam watched in awe as the two of them seemed to have an unspoken connection. Cece had gotten Paloma to quiet down after four hours of nonstop crying but Adam was too tired to feel anything but exhaustion. He had been at his wit's end, unable to calm his daughter down, and seeing Cece work her magic with such ease was nothing short of amazing.

"Thank you, Cece," Adam whispered, relief washing over him as Paloma finally began to calm down. He felt a deep sense of gratitude for the young woman who had come to their rescue once again.

Cece smiled warmly at him, despite her feeling just as (if not more) exhausted than him. "No need to thank me, Adam. I'm always here to help." She looked down at Paloma, who was now resting peacefully in her arms. "Besides, I think I've started to become quite attached to her."

Adam couldn't help but chuckle softly at that. He appreciated Cece more than he could express in words. As he looked at her, holding the most precious thing in his world like she was also the most important thing in hers too, he felt his heart do a little loop-di-loop and he couldn't stop it even if he tried.

"Thank you, Cece," he repeated, this time with a warmth and admiration that went beyond words.

"You know, Adam," Cece began softly, her voice barely above a whisper, "I'm here not just for Paloma. I'm here for you too."

Adam's heart skipped a beat at her words. It didn't feel like some grand confession, it felt like just a simple fact. And now, as he gazed back at Cece, he no longer questioned if she was responsible or sweet enough for his daughter, he knew it for a fact.

"I know," Adam's voice sounded even more exhausted than before, smiling back at her.

As Paloma fell asleep in her arms, Cece took a seat next to Adam on the couch. They both knew she wasn't going anywhere for at least a couple hours until Paloma is fully asleep, so she got comfortable.

As Paloma fell asleep in Cece's arms, a sense of calm settled over the room. The exhaustion and tension from earlier seemed to fade away, replaced by a peaceful stillness. Adam and Cece sat side by side on the couch, watching over Paloma as she slept.

In the quiet of the room, they didn't need to say much. Their presence was enough, and it felt strangely comforting. It was as if, in that moment, they were a small, makeshift family brought together by circumstances.

Cece was the first to speak up, her voice tired. "Do you know what Paloma means?"

Adam was too tired to say anything but shake his head as she continued, "It means Dove, I looked it up earlier. Isn't that cute?"

Adam had named her after his great-aunt (per request of his mother) but had always liked the sound of it. He had never thought of looking up the meaning but now that he knows, it's perfect. Dove, Paloma, it was just perfect.

Adam smiled at that. "That's so cute. Our little dove." His head fell on Cece's shoulder as he yawned, his eyes feeling heavy. "Dove, that's a cute nickname."

"We should start calling her that." Cece's eyes suddenly felt heavy too as she yawned along with Adam, nodding.

"Dove," Adam repeated softly, a smile playing at his lips. "I like it. Our little Dove."

Cece nodded in agreement, her voice barely above a whisper. "It suits her."

The exhaustion of the long night finally caught up with them both, and they began to drift into a comfortable silence. Adam rested his head on Cece's shoulder, and she gently leaned into him, their shared warmth and the sense of family they had formed providing a profound a great sense of comfort.

-> make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated! <-

thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

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dalilacherie · 3 months ago

Note

Can you please do something about Dally being shown affection for the first time? Preferably from Darry and/or the Curtis parents? Can be a fic, hcs, whatever, just please give my little boy some love.

𝐅𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐲

[𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐠!𝐃𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐬 𝐖𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐧 𝐅𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟]

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: This story takes place two years before the book because I can't remember if I mentioned that at all in the story. (+ Little Pony because I think his scenes are cute).

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: ~1,300!!

Inside it was warm and filled with the smell of dinner cooking. It was a chilly evening, and I was just finishing setting the table when the front door creaked open. I expected to see one of my boys, but instead, a disheveled figure stumbled in. It was Dallas Winston, looking more of a mess than usual.

His clothes were dirty and torn, his face bruised, and there was a haunted look in his eyes that sent a shiver down my spine. "Mrs. Curtis," he mumbled, swaying on his feet.

"Dallas, what happened to you?" I rushed over, catching him just as he started to fall.

"Got into some trouble," he muttered, trying to sound nonchalant but failing miserably.

I guided him to the couch, feeling the tension in his muscles. "Sit down, sweetheart. Let me get you something to drink." I hurried to the kitchen, pouring a glass of water and grabbing a wet cloth. When I returned, he was slumped over, looking more vulnerable than I’d ever seen him.

I knelt in front of him, gently dabbing at the blood on his face. He flinched at first, then relaxed a little, his eyes watching me warily. "You didn't have to do this," he mumbled.

"Nonsense," I replied softly. "You're hurt, and you need help. We're family here."

He blinked, as if the idea of being part of a family was foreign to him. "Family," he echoed, his voice filled with a mix of longing and disbelief.

"Dallas, you’re always welcome here," I said, my voice firm but kind. "No matter what."

He looked away, biting his lip. "Ain't used to people caring," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

I felt my heart break a little for him. "Well, you better get used to it, because we do care. Darry, Ponyboy, Sodapop... and me. We care about you, Dallas."

He didn’t say anything, but I saw the tears welling up in his eyes. I pulled him into a hug, feeling him stiffen at first, then slowly relax into the embrace. "It's okay, Dallas," I murmured. "You're safe here."

He stayed like that for a while, clinging to me like a lifeline. I stroked his back, whispering soothing words until I felt him start to calm down.

The door opened again, and Darry walked in, his eyes widening at the sight of Dallas in my arms. "What happened?" he asked, concern evident in his voice.

"Dallas got into some trouble," I explained. "But he's going to be fine. He's with family now."

Darry nodded, coming over to kneel beside us. "You need anything, Dallas?" he asked, his tone gentle.

Dallas shook his head, but there was a grateful look in his eyes. "Just... thanks," he muttered.

"Anytime, man," Darry replied, giving him a reassuring pat on the shoulder.

I could hear Ponyboy's soft footsteps approaching, and I looked up to see my youngest standing in the doorway. His eyes were wide with concern as he took in the scene, Dallas still slumped on the couch with Darry beside him.

"Pony, come here," I called gently, waving him over. He hesitated for a moment before stepping forward, clutching something in his small hands. As he got closer, I realized it was his favorite stuffed animal, a well-worn brown bear he'd named Mr. Snuggles.

"Hey, Dally," Ponyboy said softly, his voice tentative. "I brought you something."

Dallas looked up, his expression a mix of confusion and exhaustion. "What's that, kid?"

Ponyboy held out the stuffed bear, his face earnest. "This is Mr. Snuggles. He always makes me feel better when I'm sad or hurt. I want you to have him."

Dallas's eyes widened, and he looked from the bear to Ponyboy, then back again. "Uh, thanks, kid, but I'm too old for stuffed toys," he said, trying to sound tough.

Ponyboy's face fell, his eyes filling with hurt. He looked down at the bear, then back up at Dallas. "But... Mr. Snuggles really helps. I thought he could help you too."

There was a moment of silence, and I could see the internal struggle in Dallas's eyes. Finally, he sighed, reaching out to take the bear from Ponyboy's hands. "Alright. Thanks," he said, his voice softer.

Ponyboy's face lit up with a relieved smile. "You're welcome, Dally. Mr. Snuggles will take good care of you, I promise."

Dallas looked at the bear for a moment, then back at Ponyboy. "Yeah, I bet he will," he said.

Ponyboy beamed, then climbed up onto the couch beside Dallas. "You can keep him as long as you need," he said, patting Dallas on the knee.

Dallas gave a small, almost shy smile. "Thanks, Pony."

I watched the interaction with a warm feeling in my chest. Seeing my boys care for each other like this made me feel hopeful for all of them, especially Dallas. He needed this – needed to know he had people who cared, who would be there for him no matter what.

Darry glanced at me, and I could see the same pride and relief in his eyes. We both knew this was a step forward for Dallas, a small but significant moment of acceptance and love.

"Alright, boys," I said, standing up. "How about we get some dinner on the table? I'm sure everyone's hungry."

Ponyboy hopped off the couch, eager as always. "I'll help, Mom!"

Dallas looked up at me, holding Mr. Snuggles a little tighter. "Thanks, Mrs. Curtis. For everything."

I smiled, reaching out to ruffle his hair gently. "Anytime, Dallas. You're family, don't ever forget that."

Darry’s eyes shifted, taking in Dallas's torn and dirty clothes. His jacket, once tough and proud like Dallas himself, was now a tattered mess. Darry’s brow furrowed with concern. “Hang on a sec, Dally,” he said, rising to his feet.

Dallas looked up, confused. “What’re you doin’?”

“Just hold on,” Darry repeated, disappearing into the hallway.

Ponyboy was still hovering nearby, watching everything with wide eyes. I gave him a reassuring smile and a quick hug. “You did good, Pony."

Ponyboy scurried off to the kitchen. I turned back to Dallas, who was eyeing the hallway suspiciously, his fingers still gripping Mr. Snuggles tightly.

Darry returned a moment later, holding a large leather bomber jacket. It was one of his favorites, worn but sturdy, with a timeless look that seemed to suit Dallas perfectly.

“Here,” Darry said, holding the jacket out to him. “Your jacket’s seen better days. Take this.”

Dallas stared at the jacket, then back at Darry. “I can’t take that,” he protested weakly. “It’s yours.”

“I want you to have it,” Darry insisted. “You need it more than I do right now.”

Dallas hesitated, his eyes flicking between Darry and the jacket. Finally, he reached out, taking it with trembling hands. He pulled it on, and despite his rough appearance, the jacket seemed to fit him like it was made for him.

“Thanks, Darry,” Dallas said, his voice barely above a whisper. He looked down at himself, almost like he didn’t recognize the person wearing the new jacket.

Darry smiled, a rare, gentle smile that softened his usually stern features. “Looks good on you, Dally. Now, how about we get you cleaned up and ready for dinner?”

Dallas nodded, the smallest hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah, okay.”

Ponyboy came back into the room, his eyes lighting up when he saw Dallas in the new jacket. “Wow, Dally! You look cool!” he exclaimed, his admiration clear.

Dallas chuckled softly, the sound almost foreign after the tension of the evening. “Thanks, kid. You picked a good bear, too.”

Ponyboy beamed, proud of the small part he played in making Dallas feel better.

As we all moved to the kitchen, I felt a sense of warmth and togetherness that filled the house.

#the outsiders #the outsiders imagine #the outsiders headcanons #dallas winston #ponyboy curtis #darry curtis #mrs curtis #young dallas winston #the outsiders pre-book #dally winston #little ponyboy #dallas winston imagine #dallas winston headcanons #the outsiders fic #dalilacherie

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mvltisstuff · 1 year ago

Note

hi omg thought of this while rewatching s2 ep3 with the earthquake but okay so there’s the little montage of everyone being happy and eddie running to christopher - but what if there’s something similar for buck? instead of him being with abby he’s dating reader and reader has a lowkey job (maybe librarian at an elementary school?) so when he gets home the first thing he does is yell for reader and then holds them and they both shed a few happy tears just talking about how happy they are that the other is okay.

you’re honestly the bestest and i am saying this in advance that this is gonna be fabulous, as always. PLEASE AND THANK YOU!! <333

something in the orange - e.b

summary: request

evan buckley x reader

gif

a/n: the end of this ask was literally so sweet, i appreciate this so so much and i’m so happy you enjoy my works, that’s why i do them <33

buck was so sick and tired of watching everyone else have someone to run to. he hated having to see everyone in each others arms, watching a warm embrace ensue in front of him, just wanting it to be him instead. it was years on end of him watching kids with their parents, husbands with their wives, friends with their own friends. he always had the quick breakfast with a lay in bed, but he never had the long run of love that was supposed to come with it.

he thought his parents would be able to supply that love for him, but he must’ve been mistaken. they had no issue jumping out on every little thing in his life, nonetheless missing out on it. there was only so much love maddie could give, and he needed every drop of it. he thought maybe, someone mature like abby would come with the cherishing attitude to stay, but it left as fast as she did.

the earthquake had given a huge jumble to bucks brain, being able to save a bunch of people, but just wanted to go home at the same time. it felt selfish, and he hated himself for it, but how could he wish for anything else but just to be with y/n at home? he’s seen calamity and chaos the entire day, a constant strain of it into his shift. he’s seen death, broken bones, sobs, blood, anything that one doesn’t want to see. it took incredible pursuing to make bobby let buck take a break, but he could see he needed it.

he held his phone shakily in his hand, squinting over y/n’s name on the screen being darkened by the sunlight. he was nervous to even press the call button, not knowing if she’d be the one to pick it up, or an emergency responder who had her phone.

“hi, baby,” her sweet voice rang through the phone, leading him to sigh out and he couldn’t contain the light smile that formed on his lips. “are you ok?”

“i’m fine, i just wanted to hear your voice, make sure you’re ok.”

“we’re alright over here, there’s still kids here that need to get picked up, but they’re going pretty well with the evacuations.”

“i’m sorry i didn’t get over there, i got sent in the opposite direction.” y/n was working at the school on the other side of the city. buck was, of course, sent to work on the east side. he wanted to be able to save her, even if she wasn’t in trouble. he wanted to touch her so he knew she was breathing and alright, but he’d have to wait.

“don’t apologize, you’re doing amazing, buck,” she reassures him, letting his mind relax for a moment as she speaks to him. “go do your job, i’ll see you tonight, i promise.”

“i just want to see you.”

“i know, but you can in a few hours. do it for me, ok?”

“i love you, so much.”

“i love you, too, buck.”

the moment his fingers connected with the cold metal of the door, he instantly twisted it open to reveal the dim, yellowish lighting in his home. he felt like the introduction to his apartment felt like the ground stopped shaking. he was so excited to be able to rest, lay in his bed with y/n in his arms.

the thick soles of his shoes thumped against the ground as he threw his bags onto the floor. his shoulders instantly slumped and his feet automatically led to the stairs.

“hey,” y/n spoke, drying her hair with a towel to the side as it rested on her shoulder.

“hi.” he replied, slowly blinking his eyes.

“baby, you’re exhausted.” y/n steps forward down a few steps, standing a few inches taller than buck for once. her hands run over his shoulder blades, wandering over his skin and magically lifting the tension and stress from the earthquake.

“i know,” he says. “i just wanted you so bad today. there wasn’t a minute where you weren’t on my mind.”

“i’m here for good, buck. i’m not going anywhere, and i want you to get some rest.” she grabs his hand, pulling him up the steps and leading him to sit on the bed. he strips down to his boxers, leaving him shirtless as he puts on a warm hoodie that y/n handed him. he stops by the bathroom, washing his face as y/n prepares the bed for the two of them.

“i got you ice water, i left it on the nightstand.” y/n smiles softly up at him as he walks back in. “i turned the AC up, since you like it cold and i turned on the mattress heater.”

“you treat me too well, honey.”

“you did amazing work today, you deserve the treatment of a saint. come lay with me, please?”

“don’t have to ask twice.”

he crawls back into the bed as y/n dims the lights and turns their TV on. the white lights brighten their faces as he leans into her chest. his cheek rests right against the middle of her breasts, over her heart.

her arm is wrapped warmly around under his arm, the other hand rubbing his short hair. one of his legs lay between hers, his hands running against her sides. he breathes softly matching the rhythm of her, letting the noises of her gentle words and quiet noises from the TV lull him to sleep, allowing his deserving body to rest against the person he calls home.

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poppitron360 · 3 months ago

Text

Digging through my old fanfics, and I forgot I wrote this one based on a conversation I had with @four-leafed-queer-gal ages ago in this post

I wasn’t really confident posting fics at the time, and this technically never got finished, but I thought I’d post it anyway.

——————

“Hey, you weren’t at Lunch?” Jason asked.

Leo turned around to look at Jason, brushing a curtain of curly hair over the left side of his face. Jason thought that was odd- Leo hated his hair in his face.

“Oh… yeah- I was busy. Argo II stuff.”

“Leo, I know the other campers have been giving you weird looks ever since you revealed your powers-“

“It’s fine, Jason, don’t worry about it.”

A warm spring breeze danced around them. Leo put a hand on his curtain of hair, desperately trying to keep it over his face. Jason moved closer, and swept those curls out of the way behind Leo’s ear.

Leo had a black eye- his skin was purple and bruised. There was a cut on his cheek. Jason reached up to touch it but Leo grabbed his wrist and pulled his hand away.

“Who did this to you?” Jason snarled, his voice low and deadly serious.

“It’s nothing- a- an accident at the workshop. Yes. Nothing to worry about.”

“Who. Did this?” Jason said again.

Leo looked flustered, obviously trying to hide his panic.

“Was it one of the other campers?” Jason asked, “It was, wasn’t it?”

“It- it’s nothing, Jason, really. I’m fine,” Leo’s voice was high pitched and a little hysterical.

“Tell me.”

“I- I… You know I’m not good with names. Plus, I didn’t really see their faces,” Leo stammered.

“Leo-“

“Look, just drop it, okay!!!” Leo yelled, “It’s not a big deal. Besides, it was worse in the Foster Homes…”

Leo was not at dinner. Jason was worried. He said goodnight to Piper and decided to go look for him. He searched Cabin 9- not there. The forges- not there.

As he approached the basketball courts, he heard voices.

“Look, guys, I don’t want any trouble,” It was Leo. He was using his whole suave-jokester voice, but Jason could hear the fear and panic underneath it.

Jason ran towards the voice.

He heard a scuffle, and yelling. When he walked onto the court he saw two Ares kids, punching and kicking Leo. Leo was curled up on the ground, whimpering.

“Freak! Monster! Arsonist!” One of them, Marcus, yelled.

Jason wondered why Leo wasn’t fighting back. He’d seen Leo in battle, he could do more than hold his own, but he was just taking it lying down, completely defenseless.

Jason rushed forward, grabbed the two oafs by the shoulders and pushed them away. Then he drew his sword, and held it at their throats.

“If you EVER hurt my friend again, I swear to my father-“

They got the message. They ran for the exit of the basketball courts. Jason wanted to chase after them, but thought better of it. He turned to Leo. He was still curled up in a ball, trembling and sobbing. His nose was bleeding. His hands and knees were bruised where they had been covering his head. His face was grazed and covered in dirt. Jason crouched down, and tilted his head sideways to get a better look at Leo’s face. He reached out and put a hand on his shoulder. Leo flinched.

“Leo…”

He looked up at Jason, his tears mixing with the blood and the grime on his face. Jason grabbed his shoulders and sat him up against the fence. He really was shaking quite a lot. His breathing was shallow and raspy, and he clutched his side as he breathed. Jason figured one of his ribs might be broken.

“Oh my gods… what did they do to you?”

“It- it’s nothing, Jason, I’m fine,” then he got hit with a coughing fit, while simultaneously wheezing in pain and clutching his side.

“We need to get you to the infirmary.”

“I’m good. Really. ‘Tis but a scratch!” He stood up, but his knees buckled and Jason had to catch him and steady him.

“You could’ve stopped them…” Jason said, his voice low, and serious, “Why… Why didn’t you?”

Leo shook his head. “I couldn’t… not again…”

“Leo-“

“If I lashed out, Jason, if- if I lost control…”

He didn’t need to finish the sentence. Jason understood. Leo could not fight back, because if he used his fire, then someone could’ve gotten seriously hurt. Marcus was a dick, but Leo didn’t wish the fate of his mother on anyone else. So he had to just take it.

“Thanks… for helping me…” Leo said.

“We have to tell Chiron what happened.”

“I’ve dealt with bullies before, Jason, this isn’t new.”

“But camp is meant to be a safe space! For you to be accepted for who you are- for your powers.”

Leo laughed. A painful, raspy laugh, Then he clutched his side, his face contorting in agony.

“Bullshit,” he said.

It made Jason’s heart break seeing Leo like this. He wanted to yell at Leo for pretending like this was nothing. But instead, he reached into Leo’s tool belt and pulled out an antiseptic wipe.

He moved to wipe the cut on Leo’s cheek, but Leo flinched and pulled back.

“Hey, hold still,” Jason instructed. He put a hand on Leo’s waist and pulled him closer, steadying his shaking body, “Now this might sting a bit-“ He said, softly. He dabbed at the cut, and Leo winced in pain but he didn’t pull away this time.

——————

Baby boyy…

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