#I AM THE VOICE IN THE WIND AND THE POURING RAIN. I AM THE VOICE OF YOUR HUNGER AND PAIN. I AM THE VOICE THAT ALWAYS IS CALLING YOU.
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eunchacha · 2 days ago
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PAIN (pink pantheress) - no-eul x f!reader GENRE: suggestive, fluffy like her thighs. WARNINGS none! Unless u hate wholesomeness... SYPNOSIS domestic relationship with kang no-eul / how a day is spent with ur babyy — ty for the req!! WC n/a TAGLIST none yet!
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It was those early mornings, birds chirping as wind blew under the seams of the roof.
No-eul was already up — cuddling you closer everytime the wind got too cold for her liking.
The sheets were a mess, like wild bush over-powering and out-growing eachother.
There's a slight sound of patter on the window — as rain softly falls down and drizzles down.
Eul was half asleep, half awake. She whines sofly "mm .. t'cold.. I need you.."
Her arm was draped over your waist like a curtain. You smile sleepily, lazily — you murmur "Hey, lets get up. Its almost 9."
No-eul knew you were one to wake up REALLY early. It made her feel grumpy — due to the fact her body is more content with almost 15 hours of sleeping. But yet, it was also a reason she was so inlove with you. You were always so calm, never tired or lazy.
She groans "can we just stay in bed..?"
"no. We're getting up." you say, as you gently scoop her up in a sitting position.
She slouched, visibly tired. Letting out the cutest whine — your heart melted.
You almost felt bad about waking her up out her natural habitat.
No-eul slides on her slippers and wraps herself around you, as if shes trying to make you fall.
"you're being clingy." you say, trying to sound stern.
but there was silence.
almost too silent. You turn your head slightly to see no-eul sleeping peacefully on your back. "Eul? wake up baby.." You say softly, before chuckling.
The stairs creaked softly as you walked down, no-eul was pretty light so it didnt bother you. — other than the fact she was drooling on you.
The sleeping no-eul instantly gets up — rubbing her eyes drowsily.
"wake me up.. next time.." no-eul said, almost hesitantly. You smile, knowing that 'next time' would be the same old sleepy, grumpy no-eul.
No-eul gently slides off your back, her taller frame looming beside you — you wonder how you even lifted her up. She then lazily travels to the cabinet, grabbing a mug and rinsing it off.
She makes coffee for the both of you, while you sit and admire her.
The sound of birds chirping and the coffee machine whirring fills the air. The sound stops — but is instead filled with the scent of coffee and the sound of it pouring.
No-eul walks over with the mugs while elongating your name groggily like a prayer. She sets the two mugs down and she instantly wrapped her arms around you.
"i love youuu.."
"i love you too."
The sound of water runs as no-eul showers — you're sitting by the shower, listening to no-eul ramble about some new species of plant (shes a nerd.. If u can tell..)
Between her rambling — you decide to be mischeivous and steal her towel.
Soon after, the shower cuts off and you hear a low grumble "give me back my towel.."
You snicker, pretending to be clueless. "i dont know where your towel is-" "give me back my towel before i fold you like one."
you hesitantly slide the shower curtain to give her the towel.
It was currently midday, on a grocery shopping misson. No-eul was dressed like 12 year old boy (per usual.)
You're rolling the cart, list in hand. No-eul is next to you, quiet but attentive — until you glance away to pick up the oat milk and she places a ginormous bag of strawberry candies in the cart.
You do a pause and furrow your eyebrows at her. "No-eul."
She doesn’t even look guilty. “What?”
"You said we're eating clean this week."
"I am." She leans against the cart, face completely deadpan. "but i dont want to."
You raise an eyebrow, pulling out the bag.
She yanks it back, quicker. "Touch it and I'll bite."
You laugh. "You wouldn't."
She steps closer, head cocked. Her voice drops. "Try me."
You lose. The candy stays. She smiles in victory — and takes your hand as you proceed down the next aisle.
It starts with music.
You're cooking lunch — something savory, rice bowls, meat and kimchi — when your playlist shuffles onto a indie sweet song.
You hum along. No-eul wraps her arms around you from behind, her chin on your shoulder.
"You're singing off-key," she teases.
"I'm too hungry to be musical," you say, scooping rice into a bowl.
"Help or stay out of the kitchen."
She won't budge. Just starts to sway, slow and deliberate, pulling you into the beat. "Technically, dancing is helping."
You fight not to grin. "stop it."
"But you're smiling." She presses a kiss just below your ear. "You're also mine."
You let her bother you. Her arms wondering while you concentrate, music soft, annoyance a fading memory
You're doing laundry. No-eul is pretending to help — although she's mostl sitting on the dryer, eating the candies from before.
You throw a sock at her. "That's your third one."
She catches it. "I've noticed.."
"Yeah."
You grab a hoodie, but she's behind you now — arms wrapping around your waist, voice whispering against your neck.
You know," she whispers, "this dryer is warm.. solid.. I could fold you up right here."
You chuckle, slapping her hand. "That's not the way laundry is done."
"Mmm. And so?"
She kisses your shoulder and steals another candy — and one of your folded shirts to wear.
You're all snuggled up on the sofa, movie on, popcorn forgotten.
No-eul has you in her lap — arms around your waist, cheek against your back. She's very warm and relaxed, except when you burst out laughing at the movie.
You like this one?" she asks.
"Mm-hmm." You turn to her. "Why? You're barely listening."
"I'm busy." Her hand slides up underneath your hoodie, coming to rest on bare skin. "You're a much better view."
You blush. "No-eul…
"Shh." She nuzzles her face into your hair. "I'm trying to appreciate art."
You roll your eyes but don't interrupt her. Her fingers are tender, calming, a whispered I love you in the soft rhythm of her fingers tracing along your side.
The bedroom is quite dark, except for that soft light down the hall.
You are in bed, no-eul is reading a book. Before closing it and sighing, half-asleep when you feel her wrap you closer. Her lips press against your shoulder.
"I hated nights so much," she whispers.
You hum. "Why?
"Too quiet. Too much time to think." Her hand finds its way into yours beneath the blanket. "But now… I like the quiet."
You kiss her cheek. "Because I'm here?
She doesn't answer right away. Then: "Yeah."
She closes in, her nose touching yours. She whispers, almost timidly, "If I had to live one day forever. I'd absolutely pick today. Grocery fights and rice and your annoying humming. All of it."
You kiss her softly, slowly. "So, we'll make tomorrow even better."
She smiles. "Deal."
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kuokuana · 1 year ago
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god, odette would so be a bard
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bluebellhairpin · 2 years ago
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Mood in the tavern tonight.
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littlelamy · 6 months ago
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a/n: since i have seen a lot of people ask for a part 2 :), keep in mind I am not that good at part 2s so please give me your honest opinions. hope you like it! credits: gifs are from @rafeyscurtainbangs and oyster pngs are from @saizun
part 1
boat aftermath
The storm hits harder without a warning.
One minute, the sky was clear, the ocean calm, the boat slicing through the waves with the group laughing...but that all changed in an instant.
A flash of lightning split the sky, followed by a deafening crack of thunder. The wind whipped through the air with the fury of a wild beast, and the once-gentle waves became monstrous, crashing against the boat. Water poured over the sides, swamping them with a suddenness that had everyone scrambling to hold on.
Rafe’s heart pounded as the boat lurched violently beneath him, leaving you in the corner. “Where’s Sarah?” His voice cracked, strained with panic as he scanned the chaos around him. The boat tilted again, threatening to capsize, the weight of the storm pushing everyone to their limits.
“John B, what happened?” Kie screamed over the howl of the storm, her voice tight with fear as she grabbed onto the wreckage. “Where’s JJ?” She was drenched, shaking, but her eyes were wild with terror.
“Sarah! Y/N!” Pope shouted, coughing violently from the saltwater that sprayed his face. His voice cracked, sounding desperate.
“JJ! J!” Kie yells out, but the storm swallows her words, and the panic in the air grows thicker, darker.
The boat tilted again, more violently this time, and Rafe’s stomach dropped. “Where’s Y/N?!” he roared, his eyes searching the spot that he left you in. His hands clenched the edge of the boat as he fought to keep his balance. 'I only left her for a second' he thought to himself.
He couldn’t see Sarah. He couldn’t see JJ. The waves were consuming the boat, and he was being pulled deeper into the chaos. His heart raced, choking on the terror building in his chest.
And then he saw you.
His breath caught in his throat when his eyes locked on you, struggling against the violent currents, gripping a broken piece of wood. You were soaking wet, your body trembling with the cold, your face pale from the shock of it all. Rafe’s mind screamed as he pushed through the chaos, calling your name over the roar of the wind.
Without thinking, he lunged toward you, the boat tipping dangerously as he reached out for you, pulling you toward him. The storm raged around them, but in that moment, nothing else mattered but getting you close. As soon as he had you in his arms, he pulled you in tight, his heart hammering against his chest.
“Are you okay?” His voice was rough, frantic, his hands shaking as he cupped your face, feeling the cold rain mixing with the saltwater.
You barely had time to answer before his lips crashed onto yours, soft and desperate, kissed by the storm itself. The cold, the fear, the urgency of it all melted into the touch, a kiss that was more than just a kiss. It was relief. It was raw emotion, the panic slowly starting to fade as the sensation of you in his arms grounded him.
His lips lingered on yours for a moment longer, the kiss gentle, as if he was making sure you were real, making sure you were alive. The storm whipped around them, but it felt like the world outside had ceased to exist. It was just the two of you, holding onto each other, breathing through the chaos.
“I thought I lost you,” he whispered against your lips, his voice shaky with emotion.
“I’m right here,” you breathed back, your fingers clutching the wet fabric of his shirt as you held onto him. The rain poured down, but the world seemed to slow as you both clung to each other, trying to find solace in the midst of the storm.
You both held on to each other as the boat began to break apart completely. Waves crashed over them, threatening to drown them, but somehow, they held on, refusing to let go. Finally, after what felt like hours, the storm began to calm, leaving only the broken pieces of the boat scattered across the water.
Rafe helped you onto a piece of wreckage, his body still trembling with adrenaline. He couldn’t stop looking at you, his heart still racing, afraid that any second, you might slip away. But you were there. You were with him.
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Hours later, the storm had passed, leaving only a cold, eerie quiet. The fire on the beach crackled weakly, the warmth of it barely enough to fight off the chill of the night. Rafe sat on the sand, his eyes fixed on the horizon, his mind still reeling. The adrenaline was starting to wear off, leaving him with a hollow ache in his chest.
“We need to keep looking,” Rafe muttered, his voice low, eyes distant.
You sat next to him, not saying anything, just letting him process the fear that had taken over him. His chest still rose and fell in uneven bursts, as if his body didn’t know how to calm down. His hands shook, but you noticed how he’d been holding onto you tighter than before, the lingering fear still not fully letting him go.
He glanced at you, his eyes haunted. “I can’t lose her. Not like this. Not again. I... I can’t do it.”
You didn’t respond right away, not wanting to say the wrong thing. Instead, you reached out and placed a hand on his, offering what comfort you could.
“We’ll find them,” you said quietly. “We’ll keep looking. We won’t stop until we do.”
Rafe nodded, but the fear in his eyes didn’t fade. His thoughts were still on Sarah, surprisingly on JJ, but he was trying to hold himself together—for you, for them. But he couldn’t stop the wave of emotions crashing inside him.
You squeezed his hand, feeling the coldness that still lingered in his body, but you stayed close. You didn’t speak again. You didn’t need to. Instead, you just held him, your warmth offering him the reassurance that nothing else in the world could.
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The night stretched on, but Rafe couldn’t sleep. His mind was stuck in a loop, the terrifying thoughts of losing Sarah, of losing anyone, eating at him. He could hear your breathing, steady and calming beside him, but it wasn’t enough to drown out the chaos in his mind.
And then, as if it was the only thing left to say, he spoke again.
“The night we...you know,” he began, his voice barely a whisper, the vulnerability in it almost too much to bear. “I keep thinking about it. Over and over again.”
You turned to him, noticing how his jaw was clenched, his eyes clouded with thoughts he couldn’t bring himself to say out loud.
“I don’t know why,” he continued, his voice tightening, “but I can’t stop. I just...” He paused, swallowing hard. “I just don’t want to lose this. I don’t want to lose you.”
The words hit you harder than expected, and you could feel the weight of everything that had been left unsaid between you both. You didn’t answer right away, letting him gather himself, feeling the rawness in the air.
And then, with all the emotion you both had been carrying, you simply did what he needed.
You leaned in, pulling him close, wrapping your arms around him in a way that felt like it could heal something deep inside both of you. Rafe let out a shaky breath, and for the first time since the storm hit, he let himself be vulnerable, holding onto you like a lifeline.
"Please," he whispered, his voice cracking with the weight of everything. "Just... just hold me. I can’t do this alone."
And you did. You held him, letting him find peace in the way your arms surrounded him. No words were needed. It was weird seeing Rafe this vulnerable, but you did care for him, so if he needed this you were willing to give it to him. The chaos raged on, but inside, for a moment, everything was still.
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The next morning, the sea was finally calm, but the air remained heavy with fear.
And then, against all odds, Sarah and JJ appeared, walking from the shadows of the desert shore. They were both disheveled, drenched, and exhausted, but they were alive. Their feet shuffled through the sand, their movements slow and labored, but there was something undeniably real in the way they approached the group.
John B spotted them first, his breath catching in his chest as he realized they were okay. He rushed toward them, his face lighting up with relief and disbelief.
“Sarah! JJ!” John B shouted, his voice cracking as he ran to them, pulling them both into tight, desperate hugs. “You’re alive. You’re both alive.”
Sarah’s chest heaved as she tried to catch her breath. Her clothes clung to her, drenched from the sea and the rain, but her eyes shone with something that could only be described as relief. Her lips trembled as she looked up at John B, barely able to keep herself steady.
“Hi,” she whispered through shaky breaths. Her voice was hoarse from the saltwater, but she was alive, and that was all that mattered in this moment.
“I’ve got you,” John B said, his arms tightening around her, not wanting to let go. “I’ve got you.”
JJ, still standing behind Sarah, wiped the rain from his face, his eyes scanning the group with a quiet intensity. He was exhausted, too, his body battered by the storm and the struggle to survive. But there was a faint, tired smile on his face.
“You both are crazy,” Pope said, his voice filled with relief. “You made it.”
JJ shrugged, letting out a small laugh, though it sounded tired. “Yeah, well, someone had to keep her alive,” he said, glancing at Sarah, who was still clinging to John B as if he were her anchor.
John B chuckled, his hands gently stroking Sarah’s wet hair, the shock of seeing her alive still overwhelming. “You saved her,” he said, voice thick with gratitude.
But it was Sarah who finally spoke again, her words breaking through the moment. “We were drowning,” she said, her voice trembling. Tears welled up in her eyes as she remembered the panic, gently rubbing her stomach. “JJ saved my life. He saved us both.”
JJ shifted uncomfortably at the praise, looking away. “Look! I was just the closet to her. That’s all.”
As they stood there, the moment of reunion filled with the overwhelming joy of survival, Rafe remained at the edge, standing alone, apart from the group. He watched, his heart pounding as he saw Sarah and JJ, both alive. They had made it. He should’ve felt relieved, but the unease still gripped him. The fear of what could have happened, of what nearly had, lingered in his chest.
You noticed Rafe standing off to the side, far from the embrace and the chaos of joy. You couldn’t help but walk toward him, sensing the weight of the moment he was carrying. He didn’t seem to notice you until you stood in front of him, your presence pulling his gaze up.
"You okay?" you asked softly, your voice low and gentle.
Rafe didn’t respond immediately, his eyes lingering on the group who were laughing and cheering, embracing one another in relief. He exhaled, his hands clenched at his sides. He couldn’t tear his gaze away from Sarah, still wrapped in John B’s arms, as they celebrated their survival.
“I don’t know how to feel,” Rafe said, his voice heavy with exhaustion and relief, but there was something else beneath it, something he wasn’t willing to admit out loud. “I’m glad they’re alive. I’m glad she’s alive. But I just—I don’t know, man. I can’t shake the feeling that something could’ve gone wrong. That I could’ve lost her. Lost you.”
You reached out, placing a gentle hand on his arm, pulling him out of his thoughts. “Rafe,” you murmured, your voice soft yet firm. “You didn’t lose anyone. You didn’t lose her. You didn’t lose me.”
His eyes flickered to yours, and you could see the rawness in them—the fear that had been gnawing at him since the storm first hit. His body was tense, like he was still bracing for the worst, for something terrible to happen. But your touch, your words, they brought him back to the moment.
“Just don’t go,” he whispered, his voice rough, almost pleading. “Don’t leave me like this. Not after everything.”
You stepped closer, closing the space between you. Without saying another word, you wrapped your arms around him, pulling him into you, offering the comfort he didn’t know how to ask for. For a long moment, he didn’t move, just letting himself lean into you, his breath shaky against your shoulder.
You whispered into his ear, “I’m not going anywhere, Rafe. I’m right here. We’re all still here. And we’ll make it through.”
He held you tightly, pulling you in closer. You felt the warmth of his body, the tremors running through him as he finally allowed himself to relax against you. Then, almost as if it were instinct, he pulled back slightly, his eyes searching yours for a moment before his hand cupped your face gently. Without a word, he leaned in, his lips finding yours in a soft, desperate kiss. It was fleeting, but it was full of unspoken relief, fear, and something deeper—something he hadn’t fully understood until now.
When he pulled away, his forehead rested against yours, his breath mingling with yours. "I needed that," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.
“You’ve got it,” you replied, your voice steady, your arms still wrapped around him. “I’m right here.”
The sounds of the group celebrating in the distance—their cheers and laughter—faded into the background as Rafe let the moment wash over him. It wasn’t perfect, but it was enough. And for now, that was all that mattered.
As the others gathered around the fire, their joy palpable in the air, Rafe stayed by your side. He watched them from a distance, not quite ready to join in the celebration, not yet willing to let go of the weight in his chest. He didn’t know how to express the relief, the gratitude, the fear that still lingered. But with you there, holding him, he didn’t need to.
Together, they had survived. Together, they would face whatever came next.
taglist : @namelesslosers @princessslutt @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @starkeysprincess @sixrosberg @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0 @kissrotten @rafesangelita @sstargirln @rafedaddy01 @soldesole @bakugouswaif @skywalker0809 @vanessa-rafesgirl
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rynwritesstuff · 4 months ago
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Nosferatu - Kylo Ren x Reader
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Vampire!Kylo Ren x Reader
Warnings: NSFW, PIV sex, blood-sucking, brief mention of death, and a deep eternal bond between Reader and Kylo (duh)
Word Count: 1.3k
Summary: You and a mysterious man - or creature - from beyond share a passionate, lustful evening together. (Heavily inspired by Nosferatu)
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“Come to me.”
Thunder claps and booms outside. The rain falls, heavy as hooves against a paved road. Midnight approaches, a massive and dark blanket falling over the town. The window of your bedroom is open, your arms outstretched as if to say: I am here. I am open. I am ready.
Ready, you are, for whatever he may give you tonight. You ache for it, long for it like a man starved and thirsty. Many a time you have gotten drunk off of his touch, and you picture him now, above you with wide eyes like a beast in the night who has caught his prey. His hair, long and dark and wavy – like a black halo around his pale face. His eyes, brown and unshining as they stare into yours. His nose, his cheeks, his forehead – unflushed and white yet still so touchable, so easy to need. 
He is not always nude when he comes to you, but whenever he seems to be, it is something that you savor. You remember the taste of him and bring two of your own fingers to your mouth. You rest them on your tongue. They are heavy when you press down, and your lips close around them. You hunger for him, for the way he makes you feel. What you wouldn’t give, now, to feel those large, cold hands on your breasts, on your cheeks, around your throat . . .
The lawn in the back of the home is well-manicured, trimmed to perfection, but the wind blows leaves and flowers to and fro across it. There is a fountain in the center of the green grass. Rose bushes surround it on both sides, and as you open your eyes and stare out into the wet night, you feel it – you feel him. 
His presence washes over you suddenly, so suddenly that you gasp for breath and pull your fingers from your mouth. Sweet air rushes into your lungs, and a chill runs down your back. However cold it may be, though, it does not diminish the heat between your thighs. The knowledge that he is here, that he sees you . . . It is enough to make your core flood. 
Tree branches scrape against the side of the house angrily, but you pay them no mind. He is here. Here. 
Your Kylo Ren.
The ground is wet and cold beneath you. How you got here, you aren’t sure. Your nightgown sticks to you as rain pours from the Heavens. He is coming. You press your hands against the grass as rain water soaks into your clothing from the ground. Your hand moves down your body; over your throat, over your breasts, down your stomach–
He is on you. You gasp, eyes wide with terror and arousal. Kylo Ren’s bare, cold body straddles yours, and when you try to move your hand, you realize that he has you in his grasp. 
“You are not for the living,” comes his deep voice. Your breath hitches as Kylo presses his hands against your thighs. He slides his hands up, up, up, and with his movement, your nightgown slides up as well. “You are not for humankind.”
Your bottom lip trembles. 
What an endeavor this is. What sin, what joy. What luck it is that you have this at all. You hardly feel the rain against your face, now. It seems to no longer touch you now that Kylo has thrust himself upon you. You bring your hands up to touch his cheeks. He lets you. 
“Kylo,” you breathe, voice barely audible above the thunder and lightning in the sky. If someone in the house were to look out into the yard, they would hardly see you. The rainfall is too persistent and steadfast for much to be visible through it. You are alone with Kylo Ren, alone amongst the dirt and grass and flowers. 
His tip presses against your core – when did you spread your legs? – and you gasp again, head falling back. His hand comes to rest on your jaw. He holds you there as he presses in. You groan in pleasure, nipples hard from the freezing rain and the pleasure of it all. This is filthy, you know it. You are hardly sure if it’s real or if it’s simply a fantasy you’ve made up for yourself to lessen the pain of being alone, but God, if this is what gets you sent down to the Devil, then perhaps you’ll die pleased. Why see Heaven if erotic pleasures such as this cannot take place?  This is worth it. This is worth everything. 
“Kylo . . .” you moan as his body rocks above you. His hand slides from your jaw to your throat. He squeezes, and hazily, you groan again. Never have you ever felt so full, so complete. The Earth falls away from you. Are you floating, or just imagining it? Is Kylo real, or just a manifestation of all the dirty things you yearn for? 
Oh, what silly questions. None of it matters. Not really. Not now, when his cock is deep inside of you. Dirt stains you – your nightgown, your skin, your hair – But no part of you cares. Perhaps this is what it is like to be buried, you think between thrusts. Heavy. Wet. Cold. Suffocating. Delicious.
Life, powerful and strange, seems to find a way. You hope that when you die, it will not be frightening. You reach up and cling to Kylo, taking handfuls of his dark curls as he grunts above you. 
“Please,” you sob. “Please . . .”
“You shall be one with me ever-eternally,” Kylo tells you. Your heart swells. He needs you. You are his affliction. What good is a man without a woman? What needs are met? What joys are felt? What is the meaning of anything if Kylo Ren doesn’t have you? “Do you swear it?”
You pull at his hair. You need him. Whatever he will give tonight, you need it now. White hot pleasure fills you. You scream, but the thunder swallows it. He fills you, and the feeling of it makes your body lurch. His hands grip your breasts as you push your chest up. 
“Do you swear it?” Kylo demands again. You feel as if your eyes have opened. Was there a time before him? Does any other man exist? You offer up your chest even further, and he rips open the front of your nightgown. 
“I swear it,” you sigh. Kylo presses his face against the center of your chest, mouth open, and deep down you must know what is coming, because you run your fingers through his hair and pull him closer. 
“My dearest love . . . I swear it.”
Teeth sink into your skin, and you gasp sharply as tears fill your eyes. Gulp. Gulp. Gulp. Your head is light, your body is numb. You moan softly as he pulls away and looks down at you. His hand goes to your cheek and wipes away the tears and raindrops. 
“You cannot love,” you breathe. A realization, a prayer. Kylo’s mouth presses against yours firmly. You can taste your blood, metallic and warm against the coldness of him. Perhaps this is not a dream . . . 
“I cannot,” he says. “Yet, I cannot be sated without you.”
You look into his eyes and hold his cheek. You believe him. A scar runs down the side of his face, and you wonder just how long it has been since this scar was fresh. Somehow, you cannot bring yourself to care about whatever the answer may be. 
“I am yours, just as you are mine,” you say, nodding. Kylo kisses you once more. You close your eyes. The rain is falling against your face again, sharp and chilled. You feel as if you sink against the ground, falling further into the grass. You open your eyes and see nothing but the fountain, the rose bushes, the leaf-strewn lawn. You sit up, soaked from the storm, your heart pounding against your chest. 
Your chest. You look down. Yes, your nightgown is still torn open. Yes, your skin has been punctured by teeth that must have been hungry and ready. 
Oh, yes, it was real.
Tagging a few vampire-loving friends: @safarigirlsp @babbushka @mrs-gucci
Divider by saradika-graphics
rynwritesstuff, 2025
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ilium-ilia · 1 month ago
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a fox cries; never howls
simon "ghost" riley x fem!reader | in limbo au | masterlist
epilogue: forever
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Last night, I dreamt of my mother. 
It’s the first dream I’ve had of her where she’s not rotting on linoleum, or trying to clean her blood out of my school uniform. No, she was alive, with the light in her eyes and a smile on her face. Just like she ought to be. Just like I remember her when I was a kid. 
We sat together in the library Simon built for me, but the walls seemed to roam on forever, adorned with bookshelves and paintings I couldn’t recognize. It rained outside, thick droplets hitting the window like drums in an empty forest echoing in the midst of winter. She held one of my journals in her hand and read my poetry out loud, reciting it just the way I always imagined it would be spoken if I were ever brave enough to share it—that part of me. Too twisted that only a mad dog would ever love. 
I can’t recall how she left. I just know that the window was open when she was gone. Rain spilling in, flooding over the sill, pouring onto the floor until it filled the room whole. Suddenly, I was in the ocean. Thick waves beat against my skull so violently that I could taste the salt and iron it suctioned from my body. 
It was Simon who dragged me onto the shore. I knew it was him the moment his hands gripped my wrist. Even in my dream, I remember thinking, “Oh, it’s him.” 
It’s always him. 
Years have passed since he first saved me. Since he first pulled me out from beneath churning waves that would have otherwise crushed me. It’s been so long that I can’t even recall the exact date he dragged me out of Marco’s grasp, but I remember all the important ones that have come after that. Our wedding anniversary in October. The day we bought our first house together. 
Everything that ever happened to me before this took place in another life. It happened to a different me. She’s still here, somewhere, lurking in dog-eared pages and smudged ink, but I am here now, and this is the end. 
This is my forever. 
Wood creaks behind you, prompting your pen to freeze and your neck to turn. There, peeking through the french doors with eyes darker than the woods that surround your home is Simon. He attempts to hide it, but you see the steam wafting from the tea he holds in his hand, mug dwarfed by fat fingers and meaty palm. Dawn hits his chest. It illuminates his pallid skin until he’s on fire, caught in burning saffron as he pushes the door open. 
“Mornin’ sweetheart,” he says. His voice is quiet. Soft, as if to not interrupt the singing choir of the birds that flutter from tree to tree. 
“You’re up early,” you note, a lazy smile pulling at your lips. 
“Course. Big day today.” 
Sighing, you nod as you stuff your pen in your journal, closing up the pages until it’s swallowed whole. “Big day indeed.”
Simon looks different these days. Softer, anyway. You notice it as he sits next to you, bare chest bulging as he hands you your tea, soft stomach falling over the waistband of his joggers in a way that leaves your tongue eager to lap at the tender skin. He’s still a force to be reckoned with. It’s not uncommon for him to return home with split knuckles or a black eye, but he’s yours, now. All gentle with sharp teeth—just the way you like him. 
As you sip on your tea, the two of you silently look out over the balcony’s ledge. Thick patches of grass and moss coat the backyard, leading deep into the thicket of trees and bushes that line the property. A walking path winds like a snake through the foliage, dissipating into the woods like a fading line. You and Simon have often trudged along that path, fingers intertwined, shoulders knocking together as it narrows, bringing you two closer until you’re coincident lines. 
“I suppose we should get ready,” you hum, placing your mug against your thigh, fingers tapping against the china. It warms your skin, nearly burns it like a hearthstone. 
“Reckon we’ve got a bit more time,” Simon counters. 
“Maybe.” 
Warmth spreads along the bend of your knee, sliding up along your thigh until you feel a tender squeeze. “Excited?” 
“More than I ought to be, probably,” you chuckle. You breathe in—a soft breath, fresh spring, damp air—and hold it until you’re ready to let go. Then, you lean against him. Bare cheek against bare shoulder. “But it’s hard not to be.” 
A few more fleeting moments pass. The sun rises further above the horizon, kissing the tops of trees and warming the feathers of sleepy birds. You close your eyes. Orange seeps through the lids, urging you to look, but you opt to feel instead. Growing rays on your skin. The even breathing of Simon as he rests his head against yours. A slight twitching in his fingers—nerve damage that can never quite be repaired. 
“Is it time now?” Your voice is fragile, like a child’s. 
Once more, Simon’s fingers squeeze your leg, flesh dimpling beneath the pressure, but it’s not enough to hurt. It’s never enough to hurt. These days, there’s not a single ounce of pain that you feel that he can’t kiss away. 
“Yeah, baby. It’s time.”
Your grin bleeds like warm milk over the rim of a glass as you eagerly spring to your feet, journal and half finished tea long forgotten on the bench. Slipping back through the french doors, you and Simon don proper pyjamas before you’re trotting down the hallway, leading him behind you. Various pictures adorn the walls. Professional photography and at home film plastered in cheap frames meant to grow out of. Meant to change. Meant to mould. They display loving limbs, captured giggles, three smiles caught in a perfect moment. 
Her room is marked with a handwritten sign adorned with flowers and an amateur’s interpretation of the heavy wooded landscape that lines your home. When you push the door open, you’re greeted with periwinkle walls bedecked with stickers and posters from her favorite shows. A small bed with pink sheets is shoved into the corner where a mound of blankets and stuffed animals sit, some that have spilled onto the floor in the night, casualties of young, fluttering legs. 
And there, in the midst of it all, is your daughter Mary. 
She pretends to be asleep as she lays on her side, nose buried into her pillow, but the smile pulling at her lips gives her facade away. Kneeling next to her bed, you brush the apples of her cheeks with the back of your hand. Her skin is soft. Young. Ignorant to the world of strife, only knowing the love of her mother and father. 
“Good morning, Mary Lamb,” you whisper. 
Unable to hold herself back any longer, Mary’s eyes flicker open, and her quiet smile morphs into an uncontrollable grin. Her little body sits upright as her hands pat around the bed for something, fingers instantly grasping it once she finds it. Red fur. Amber eyes. 
“Good morning, Pumpkin,” Mary says, kissing her stuffed fox on the forehead, throwing herself into her morning routine. Then, she turns to you, leaning forward, kissing you on your shoulder. “Good morning, Mama Fox.” Then, she looks at Simon, hands outstretched, fingers curling for him. Chuckling, he extends his forearm, allowing her to kiss the fox tattoo lying on his skin. “Good Morning, Papa Fox.” 
“How’s our birthday girl?” Simon asks, turning his hand around to ruffle the hair on her head. 
“Good,” she says sheepishly. 
Petting Pumpkin on the head, you nod towards the door. “Ready for breakfast?” 
Your sweet Mary turns four today, and each day that passes you find yourself stunned at the rate she’s changing before your very eyes. Each day she grows bigger, and more sure of herself. Her father’s fire lies deep in her chest where it festers into a roaring blaze, and the proof of it appears before your very eyes as she sternly insists on helping cook up breakfast, stuck to Simon’s hip as he holds her in one arm and stirs with the other. She has yours, too. It manifests in the love for books, and the movie she demands the three of you watch as you eat, old hand drawn animation crackling across the screen like a dream. 
When the afternoon rolls around, and Simon helps Mary put her shoes on, you remember how you never thought you’d reach this point in your life. For so long, all you had known was pain. A special kind of solitude that kept you bound to monstrous men with easy smiles and sharp claws. But your life fractured, sending tiny fragments barreling throughout the space around your existence, forever compartmentalizing what so desperately yearned to stay whole. 
But as the three of you meander out the back door, grass underfoot, carefully tracing the path that leads away from home, you know you like this piece of your life more than any of your others. Not even bitter nostalgia can trick you into wishing for your old life back—before Marco found you, when you were still in school and had both of your parents to love you. 
The only people you need to love you now are Simon and Mary. 
Rays of sun seep through the canopy above you as you push further through the trees until you reach a small clearing that houses a muddy pond. You’re not sure why Mary is so infatuated with the sordid body of water, a proper breeding ground for various bugs and other critters, but she often begs to visit it when the days are warm and the skies are clear. A fallen tree with a thick spine makes for a good bench, covered with enough soft mossy to pad your bottom as you take a breather. On the other hand, Mary has found no shortage of energy, and instead traces the environs of the pond, eyes carefully scanning the shore as she trudges along the mud. 
Simon sits next to you, old wood creaking beneath his weight as he stretches out his legs, heels of his boots digging into the pliable soil. “Tired?” 
Humming, you lean your head against him, eyes fluttering shut. “Might settle in for nap time with Mary when we get back,” you hum. 
“You deserve it. You’ve been workin’ hard.” 
Scoffing, you scoot closer along the log to him. “Hardly.” 
Simon moves beneath your head, shoulder rolling until he’s wrapped his arm around your side. His other hand comes up to cup your jaw, tilting your attention to him before his palm falls to your stomach. “This isn’t an easy feat, baby,” he whispers. 
A smile blooms on your face. It’s only been three weeks since you held that positive test in your hands—several weeks of fatigue and sleeping during odd hours—but you think about it every day. Not far enough to show, but enough to feel them grow. This child. A sibling to Mary. 
Before either of you can say anything else, a sopping splash redirects your attention back towards the pond. There, you find Mary, knee deep in the mucky water, palms diving beneath the surface as she grabs at something, dipping her bottom in along with it. Both you and Simon chuckle, heads shaking at the mess she’s making as she begins to squeal. 
“Certainly like her father,” you murmur. 
“But pretty like her mama,” he retorts with a kiss to the crown of your head. 
Your repeated chuckles sound in unison as Simon pushes himself to his feet and trots off towards Mary. She’s standing upright again, shoulders hunched forward, clothes dripping wet. Something is cupped in the palm of her hands, and she only allows herself to look at it through a small opening between her thumbs. 
“What’cha doin’ sweetheart?” Simon calls out to her as he stands at the edge of the water. 
“Look! It’s a baby! A uh, a baby frog,” she claims. 
“The only frog I see right now is you, Mary Lamb.” 
Eventually, he manages to coax her to shore where she begins to whine about her soggy shoes, but refuses to release the creature in her hands. Simon crouches to her height, but still is so much larger than her small frame. He cups her hands in his, gently prying them open until you’re able to make out a mess of green and black spots on a small, fat frog. 
Mary grins, feet stomping on the ground, socks squelching in her feet, as she turns to you. “Mama, look! A frog! No, come here, you gotta look!” 
Smiling, you hop off of the log. Each step feels like a leap. You’re jumping across valleys from mountain top to mountain top, traversing the world just to reach your daughter and her naive grin. Every pace you’ve made has been a battle. A war you’ve won. A fight just to get here, where you are now, in this very moment.
Still, as she looks up at you with those bright eyes, and hands outstretched to showcase her new friend, you take comfort in the fact that you know that some things truly do last forever.
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Thank you to everyone who came along this journey with me in writing this alternate universe. Finishing this makes my chest feel tight in the type of way that's telling me I don't want to let go, but I need to. Chip and Simon need it, too. If i'm feeling this way about this version of the story, I can't imagine how torn I'm going to be over In Limbo, haha.
Anyway, thank you all. It's an honor to send these two off in the way they deserve (:
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joelscurls · 11 months ago
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stranded
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pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader
words: 2.6k
summary: your shitty boyfriend dumps you on the side of the road after a fight. joel miller finds you.
warnings: 18+ minors dni, no outbreak, explicit smut, oral (f receiving) (joel miller is a munch and u cannot convince me otherwise), slight angst, reader has a shitty/abusive (ex) bf (only briefly mentioned), allusions to piv sex, i think that's it? lmk if i missed anything!
a/n: this is my entry for the summer lovin' writing challenge put together by the incredible @pedgito, @amanitacowboy, and @chaotic-mystery (ily all so much), based on the above moodboard with the location hiking (i went for hitchhiking) and the quote "i'm your only hope". i haven't written in what feels like years & am admittedly rusty, but alas! it was so much fun to get back into writing with a little challenge. dividers by @/saradika-graphics. this was minimally edited; all mistakes are my own.
His red pickup truck had been the first car you'd seen in hours. Rain pouring down, drenching your t-shirt and streaking mascara along the apples of your cheeks, it'd been like a beacon through the fog. 
You’d asked to borrow his cell phone to call a friend. Don't have one, he’d drawled. Got a landline at my place, but the whole county’s without power.
And though you knew nothing about the man in the driver's seat -- not his name nor his history with the law -- you'd still gotten in when he'd pushed open the passenger-side door. After all, you had little other choice.
It was either that, or risk freezing to death on the side of the road where your boyfriend had deserted you.  Ex boyfriend, now. That asshole had taken everything from you: your phone, your keys, your dignity -- and left you for dead. So really, how much worse could this admittedly handsome stranger be?
Just a bit, it turns out. 
Okay, so he's giving you a lift. Back to his place to wait out the storm and call a friend on his landline once the power returns. And he's not hurling nonsensical accusations at you with hands curled tightly around the steering wheel. No declarations of, "My buddy swears he saw you dancing with another guy. Why would he lie about that?"
Still, his silence is beyond off-putting. His brows seem permanently contorted downward, his eyes narrowed on the road ahead as he drives, the highway closer and closer to flooding with every mile that passes. He hasn't asked if you're okay despite the fact that you're holding your ankle in your lap, its incessant throbbing a reminder of when your ex pushed you out of his car earlier. No, he hasn't even offered his name.
You wonder if you're driving to your death.
The first words he speak are muttered under his breath, a quick, "it's just down this road," as pavement turns to gravel. He slows the truck, tires crunching and mud splattering until the trees give way to a tiny wood cabin. The driveway is a long stretch of dirt that winds through an unkempt yard, all tall grass and overgrown shrubs.
It's dark, the sky an angry black as you hobble out of the truck. Your ankle stings and your heart pounds when the strange man rounds on you, and you flinch when he outstretches a hand.
"You hurt?"
His voice, though unamused, drips like thick, rich honey. Pools at your feet with the rainwater.
"Yeah," you respond meekly. Your fingers curl against your palm, nails digging into the skin there. "It's uh, my ankle." His eyes follow yours down to your feet. Widen at the sight of black and blue. 
"Shit."
It's quiet for a long moment. You can tell he's trying to piece it all together: how you ended up alone on the side of the road, hurt.  He still doesn't ask though. Not until a particularly loud rumble of thunder sounds overhead, causing you to nearly jump out of your skin.
He sighs, a half-hearted comforting hand on your shoulder. 
"Someone dump you out there?" 
"Yeah," you sigh. "Boyfriend. We got into a fight and he just...lost it."
The man nods. Takes a small step forward as you hop on one foot next to him. 
It must take five whole minutes to get to the front door. Your ankle only feels worse by the time you step onto the porch, throbbing having turned into searing pain somewhere along the way. You bite down hard on your bottom lip as he jostles the key in the doorknob, the metallic taste of your own blood a temporary distraction.
He motions for you to follow him in, which you do, albeit hesitantly. His house is as you'd expect it to be from your brief encounter: little furniture or decoration, dishes in the sink, a general air of…man…throughout the small, dark space.
“Sit down,” he says. “I'll get a first-aid-kit.”
“Wait,” you stop him, because for some reason it seems of utmost importance in this very moment, despite the flash flood outside and your inability to walk, to know–
“What's your name?”
“Joel.”
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You situate yourself on the couch as you wait for him to return. Scan the room for any signs of imminent danger. There’s a bookshelf on the far wall, stacked top to bottom with hardcovers and carved wooden trinkets. You wonder if he – Joel – made them himself. 
You wonder if the books keep him company out here; if the stories of Huck Finn and Moby Dick make him feel less alone. 
You wonder why he’s so isolated in the first place. 
You have little time to dwell on it though, as he re-enters the room promptly, dusty first-aid-kit in one hand and a lantern in the other. He places the latter down by his feet before pulling up a footstool. Opens up the kit and pulls out a roll of gauze.
“Might hurt a little,” he warns, beginning to unravel it.
You nod. Brace yourself. 
By the look of his hands – large and gruff – you expect him to be a bit rough. But he’s gentle, surprisingly so, cradling the lower half of your leg and wrapping your ankle with laser focus. His fingers, though calloused, skate across your skin with a near-startling softness. 
You watch his face as he works on you, quickly finding yourself transfixed by the way his brows contort and his eyes narrow, by the absentminded twitch of his mouth. He looks so much less intimidating like this, and you inadvertently begin to relax into his touch.
He seems to notice this, leaning in closer to your body, and while you know it's just to get a better angle, more precision, it still sends a rather confusing shockwave of electricity up your spine. In this proximity, you can practically feel the heat radiating off of his body. Can practically see every fiber of muscle in his biceps as they flex under his flannel shirt.
This close, you're met with the rather inconvenient realization that Joel is beautiful.
You try to tell yourself that it's purely situational, that if you hadn't just been dumped on the side of the road by your asshole boyfriend, you wouldn't be seeking the physical comfort of another man. Still, this does nothing to stop the steady acceleration of your heartbeat, nor the growing arousal between your thighs. 
All of this, despite the pain in your ankle.
You almost don't realize he's done mending you, the shifting of his hand to your opposite calf sending you into a prompt spell of dizziness. Mind flooded with images of him spreading you apart, taking you right here on this worn, leather couch, you're silently reeling. 
His eyes flit up to meet yours, a little darker than you recall them being. His fingers curl against your skin and your breath hitches. 
Does he feel this too?
You shift experimentally. Let your legs fall apart just an inch. To your dismay, he pulls his hand back; clears his throat.
And just like that – the bubble bursts.
“All set,” he announces as he stands, before practically running out of the room.
A little humiliated, you retreat back into yourself. Stare out the window and pretend not to notice when he rejoins you in the living room and wordlessly drags his footstool to the opposite side of the room.
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The remainder of the day passes agonizingly slow. Minutes feel like hours, the sky only growing darker, and it’s a wonder how Joel can even see the pages of the book he’s currently got his nose stuck into.
Not that he’d offered you one. 
Instead, you’ve been stuck in place. A prisoner to this couch, the springs of which are digging into your back uncomfortably. Staring out the window like some harrowed female protagonist in a period piece.
Joel doesn’t seem to notice your presence, after a while. He reads, drinks warm beer, and quite literally twiddles his thumbs. Anything to avoid talking to you. 
You’re not sure what you did wrong. Had you said something to offend him without realizing? Had your subtle pass at him been less subtle than you’d thought? Had you crossed a line? You’d really just considered it innocent flirting. Maybe Joel hadn’t.
Regardless, it makes you wonder why he even brought you here. Maybe he’d just wanted to feel like a hero – hadn’t thought about what came after. About you occupying his precious space. 
After a while of sitting in the same place, your muscles begin to ache. Plus, your throat feels dry. You need to stand, need to get something to drink. Except, when you move to get up, Joel immediately stops you. 
“Where you goin’?” 
“Need a drink.”
“I’ll get you one,” he offers. “What do you want?” 
What you really want is to go home. To forget this entire day even happened.
So you settle on–
“Vodka?” 
He hums. “Don’t got that.”
“Tequila?”
“Got some scotch left. Might be one more beer. Was really hopin’ to have it though.”
You scoff. 
“Okay. Water, then?” 
“That I can do.” 
He disappears into the kitchen and returns moments later with a glass. Hands it over without making eye contact. 
“Thanks,” you mutter. He says nothing in response. Just collects his empty beer bottles from off the floor and retreats once again. 
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By the time he comes back, the sun is setting – at least, what can be seen of it through the dark clouds that still rage in the sky. 
He seems tense, fixating himself by the window and watching the storm with such acuity you think he may be waiting for the second it ends to kick you out. 
“Have you heard anything about when this is supposed to pass?” you ask.
“Have no electricity,” he grumbles. “So, no.”
You stretch out your back. Stand. This time, Joel doesn't stop you. “Just didn't know if you had a radio or something.”
“I don't.”
Rounding on him, you attempt to get him to look in your direction. Still, he stares straight ahead, like you're not even there. Frustration bubbles in you, quickly reaching a full boil.
"What is your problem?"
He finally looks at you. And then he laughs, though you get the sense that he's not amused in the slightest.
"My problem?”
You nod. Raise your eyebrows at him.
“I'm lettin' you wait out a storm in my house right now,” he says. “Doesn't seem like somethin' you should be asking me."
You scoff. "I just don't know what I did to piss you off."
He turns to face you completely now. 
"Are you kidding? Haven't done nothing but inconvenience me since you got in my truck. Askin’ for a fuckin’ cocktail like this is some kind of resort. Starin’ at me all day like i'm a guest in my own home.”
Is he fucking serious?
“Why’d you even pick me up?"
"Wasn't gonna drive by a stranded girl on the side of the road, was I?"
You're both silent for a long moment. You can't exactly be mad at him for rescuing you. Still, you feel extremely uncomfortable now, knowing that he doesn't want you here. Tears pickle the corners of your eyes threateningly. You choke them back.
"Well fine, if i'm such a fucking burden, i'll leave."
You're expecting him to open the door for you. Throw you out to the wolves. So you're more than taken aback when he shakes his head at you disapprovingly.
"Like hell you will. There's about two feet of water out there. Where you gonna go?"
"I don't know,” you admit. “But i'll figure it out."
"You'll figure it out?"
"That's what I said."
Joel tuts. "Look at the state of you right now. You can barely even walk. There’s no power anywhere. Just face it: you wanna get home safely, before tomorrow, i'm your only hope."
“Fuck you,” you spit, stepping closer to him. Where does he get off, acting like such a righteous savior? You're going to brush past him, leave anyway, but as soon as you go to move, his hand is winding around your arm.
“Don't.”
“Or what?” you hiss. 
“Just – don't.” His voice is less angry; more pleading.
“You don't want me here,” you say. It's not a question, but he nods anyway.
“Yes I do. I mean – I don't want anything to happen to you out there. Please just – let me make this up to you.”
His hand slides up to your shoulder. Squeezes gently. Your eyes wander to where he holds you. When they flit up to his face again, you find he's already gazing at you.
You're not sure who moves first.
You're back on his couch in an instant, your shorts being tugged down and off your legs, along with your panties. And then Joel is shouldering himself between your legs, shimmying down the couch and situating his face right in front of your pussy.
His nails dig into the skin of your thighs as he gets his first taste of you, and he groans. You shudder at the sight of him, the sound of him. Your fingers find their way to the curls at the crown of his head and grasp tightly onto them.
“Is this what you need, baby?” he slurs, and you nod deliriously.
“Yeah,” he smirks. “I know.”
His tongue dips into your apex, greedily lapping up some of your sweet nectar before he finally decides to put you out of your misery, dragging it up to swipe over your swollen clit. 
You instinctually buck against his face, trying to force him closer, and he chuckles. Grabs onto your thighs and pulls you toward his mouth. His tongue begins to relentlessly massage your clit and you cry out, a needy little whine that echoes through the room. 
“Mhm,” he hums against you in understanding, the vibrations of his voice sending a wave of pleasure coursing through your core. And then he pulls away, only momentarily, to spit on your pussy, the sound of it so obscene that your eyes roll back in response. He's back on you immediately, plunging two fingers into your soaked cunt and curling them against your g-spot as his tongue laves at you.
In less than a minute, you're coming hard, gushing all over his chin and his hand. He doesn't relent until you're gasping for him to stop, scratching at his shoulders in desperation. And then he's kissing you, the taste of your arousal on his mouth, and though satiated, you've never felt so starving.
“Need you,” you mumble against his lips, your hands roving restlessly across any part of him you can reach, grasping at fabric and skin.
He nibbles at your neck and you inhale the scent of him. Commit the smell of his sweat and musk to memory. This'll probably be the only time you have him, after all. You push that thought to the back of your mind. 
Sitting back on his haunches, Joel pulls off his shirt and undoes his belt. Shucks his jeans off. He hovers back over you with a newfound ferocity in his eyes. 
“Up,” he orders. Helps you sit. You pull your own shirt off and toss it aside. Unclasp your bra and let it fall from your body as Joel stares wolfishly at your exposed chest.
Your eyes, on the other hand, fly straight to his cock. It tents in his boxer, his bulge a bit intimidating, and you feel yourself beginning to salivate.
He chuckles above you, hand coming to rest placatingly on your waist.
“Think you can take it, baby?”
In truth, you're not entirely sure. But you're sure as hell not about to waste any more time wondering.
“Please just – fuck me.”
He shifts his weight. Props your ankle atop his back and rests with his elbows on either side of you. And then he grinds against you, the heft of his hard cock rubbing against your bare pussy.
“Patience,” he tuts. “We got nothin’ but time.”
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andvys · 10 months ago
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Dancing with our hands tied | S.H.
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Chapter twenty two ⭐︎ Let the world around us just fall apart
Warnings: no warnings, I am not gonna spoil anything, read at your own risk and minors, get outta here as always
Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader
Word count: 10.5k+
Author's note: @hellfire--cult can you believe we made it here?... feels like we just started planning this story! anyways thank you for helping me proofread and perfecting the story ♡
Series Masterlist ⭐︎ Previous Chapter
“I don’t know if a dress would make him say yes to a date with his mortal enemy.” 
Billy scoffed at your words, rolling his eyes. 
“Mortal enemy, my ass.”
You were fidgety as you were walking towards the GAP store with your best friend by your side. You looked around you and stopped at the entrance, a sudden nervousness came over you when you looked inside. 
This was insane and it didn’t even feel right. You knew he would say no, not even a pretty dress could change his opinion of you. 
Steve couldn’t stand you, it felt ridiculous to even think of asking him out, knowing how it would end but your best friend put so much hope in you, he encouraged you so strongly, how could you not try?
Billy stood before you, a comforting smile crossed upon his features. 
“I– I can’t…”
You looked into his blue eyes, the kindness that was shining just for you, making your lips twitch. 
He took your hand in his and squeezed it, tilting his head down with a nod, he gestured to the store. 
“You can do it, sweets…”
His words echo in your mind, repeating over and over again, blurring your vision further as you look at the man before you with tears rolling down your cheeks and rain pouring down on you, you’re shaking like a leaf, not from the coldness that envelopes your body like an icy blanket but from all the emotions inside of you. 
And Steve, he stares at you, eyes blurred with tears that even you can see through your own. 
His head is pounding from all the sobs that left his lips, from all the tears he shed over you after what Robin told him about you, about your feelings for him. He feels ready to crumble to his knees as he looks at you now, ready to let those tears spill again, ready to take you back into his arms and try to forget. 
But despite the sadness, the brokenness in him, he also feels anger, not even for you but for himself. 
“What do you want?”
Tears spill from your eyes and your chest aches in pain and fear as you look at the heartbroken, angered boy in front of you. 
You have not heard that voice from him in a long time. That voice that had venom in it, directed only at you. The voice that held dislike, disgust, hatred. The voice that Steve once had towards you… and this time it hurts even worse than it ever did before. 
You see the way he looks at you, so different from how he did this morning and it makes you feel small, just the way it always did and suddenly you want nothing more than to turn around and run again, to leave and spare yourself more pain. 
But this can’t be the ending. 
It just can’t be. 
And the pain in his eyes, his reaction to whatever Robin had said to him fuels the hope that began to dwindle. If he didn’t feel anything for you, he wouldn’t stand here like this. 
Thunder crashes behind you so loudly that it makes you flinch and shut your eyes tightly, for only a second but a second enough for Steve to snap and truly look at the sight before him – the storm that rages behind you, the wind that curses through the forest, the lightning that surges through the sky, illuminating everything around you as loud rumbles vibrate against the ground while the rain pours down on you. 
You are standing here, in the middle of a storm, caught in the rain, you are standing here before him. 
His heart lurches to his throat when he hears your sniffle, sees the tears in your eyes and the way you are shaking as your bottom lip trembles. A broken cough falls from your lips and he instantly steps forward. Worry crosses out every other emotion in him as he reaches for your hand, his gaze softening the longer he looks at you. 
“Blondie! What the fuck are you doing here!? It’s— It’s storming!” He yells through the rain and tries to pull you into the house but you shake your head at him and take a step back, refusing to step inside. 
All the words, all the sentences, everything you had rehearsed and looked forward to all day flet away from you, the confession you planned no longer exists in your mind, it’s all blank. 
“I–I… I need to know… I need to ask… I-I never asked and I feel like I’m losing my mind now–”
A desperate sigh falls from Steve’s lips, he shakes his head at you, begging with his eyes as he moves closer to the doorstep, not understanding a single word you are saying. 
“What…? Blondie, you need to get inside, you’re fucking soaked–”
“No!” You shake your head at him, feeling uncomfortable beneath the pouring rain but refusing to give into the warmth just yet. “I need to… I need to tell you something!”
He can see the way you try your hardest not to cry, the way your glassy eyes look into his so brokenly, the way you look as though you will fall to your knees any second and it only makes the aching in his chest so much worse. 
“W-What?”
You take a deep breath and you almost choke from the sob you have kept inside for too long, that you can no longer hold as it falls from your lips so brokenly. 
“It’s all my fault! All this time, I blamed time and I blamed bad luck but never myself! If I only had said something to you, if only I had even shown you a little bit of what I truly feel, you may have noticed! I-I never tried! I never fought! And I am the only one to blame if I end up broken in the end!” 
Steve shakes his head at you, his tears falling yet again at the sight of you crying and speaking so desperately through your cries. 
“Blondie– you’re– you have to get in–”
He tries to reach for you again but you swat his hand away, sniffling and shaking your head. 
“For years I held it in! Even before the upside down, before joining the group and quarreling like never before with you! Even before any of what we had been doing for the past few months! When you passed me in the hallways, when you sat behind me in science class, when you had your basketball matches and even when I went to parties, I always looked at you!” Your voice cracks when another sob escapes you, and then another before they continue falling uncontrollably, feelings overwhelming you as you finally let them out after years of keeping them locked away. 
And Steve, he stares at you with wide glassy eyes, feeling stunned and frozen in place as his heart stops beating for a moment. 
“And– And now– I can’t hold them in anymore, because I feel like if I keep going like this I will explode– but my gut is telling me that I have to say it… but I’m so afraid… I’m so fucking afraid! I-I can’t lose you, not you, Steve.” 
His knees nearly buckle at your words, at his sudden movement as he finally rushes forward, stepping under the rain with you, not letting you move away from him again as he cradles your face with his hands and tilts your head up to make you look at him. 
It all moved so quickly, he didn’t have the time to properly digest everything that just left your lips but it all was enough to bring him back to you, to start his heart again, to fill it with the hope that he thought was burned to ashes only hours ago. He already saw his grave, he already saw his demise, the death of his heart when he thought that he found out what you had really felt for him. 
But you are here, not caring about the storm above you, not caring about the vulnerability you’re letting come through, not caring about anything but him at this moment. 
He grows desperate too and so does his heart as it calls your name. 
He rubs his thumbs against your cheeks, holding you so tightly as he fears that you will slip through his fingers at any moment, that he might wake up to an empty bed after sobbing himself to sleep, thinking about you but then you wrap your hands around his wrists, clutching them tightly as you cry. 
Now he can see it in your eyes, the look he always searched for but couldn’t find, now he can see it all so very clearly but it still isn’t enough, he needs to hear you say it. 
“Please… Please I beg you to say it… I need to know, baby, please. Y-You don’t have to be afraid anymore… not with me… So please, say it.” 
Your body trembles like it never did before, your heart pounds so strongly in your chest, you blink through your tears and stare up at him, into his hazel eyes that beg for you, the eyes that look at you with so much hope and desperation as tears cascade down his cheeks along with the rain that crashes down on the both of you. 
The boy you never thought could ever feel a sliver of what you feel for him stands in front of you, holds you so tightly as he pleads for you, for your love. 
“Please,” he whispers so brokenly, like your words, your love is the only thing he wants and needs. 
He begs for you and no one else, only you. 
The one you always wanted, the one you would give your life for, the one that had your heart from the very start. 
You take a deep breath and hold onto him tightly, your heart jumps to your throat when you finally, finally whisper those three words. 
“I love you.” 
Steve’s breath hitches in his throat, a weight he didn’t even realize he was carrying falling off his shoulders, his brows furrow as his lips part, fresh tears well up in his eyes and his heart starts beating again. 
He can’t believe that this is real, he can’t believe that he just heard those words coming from your mouth, he can’t believe that you are here, standing right in front of him with no walls built around you any longer, he sees a side of you that he wasn’t sure was there but it is and you let him see, you let him see all of you, the real you, the vulnerable girl that hid from the world, from him.
And now that those words have finally left the sacred place in your heart, you feel an overwhelming sensation taking control over you, your body begins to shake harder than it did before, tears are flowing and sobs continue on falling. 
“I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you!”
Your voice is so small, yet so loud as you chant those three words through your cries, clinging to him so tightly so you don’t fall to your knees. 
Words that Steve never thought he would hear echo through his driveway, falling from your lips so beautifully, nothing but the truth lingers in your eyes, nothing but vulnerability, nothing but a love he had never thought he would get to feel in this life, let alone from you, you who he had fallen for so unconditionally, so deeply that it hurt not only in his heart but in his soul when he thought that you didn’t feel what he does. 
“I love you, Steve Harrington,” you whisper, sniffling. “I love you so much, I always did, I–I loved you from the moment I first saw you, I have loved you for more than you can imagine! I have loved you for–”
A choked sob falls from his own lips before he pulls you tightly against him and smashes them against yours, kissing you with everything that he has, pouring every ounce of love into it, enveloping you in his arms, in his embrace, in his warmth. Holding your face in his hands is no longer enough, he wraps his arms around your body, pulling you tightly against him so your chest is pressed against his own. 
You lift your arms up and cup his wet cheeks, kissing him deeply, holding him tightly, not caring about the salty taste on your tongue or his. 
Steve cups the back of your head, deepening the kiss and getting lost in it, not minding the rain or the storm and you don’t either, you don’t even flinch when the thunder crashes. He kisses you hard and he makes you forget about everything around you, everything ceases to exist, everything but him. 
He murmurs something against your lips when you both grow too breathless to continue the kiss. 
He could not begin to describe the emotions that exploded inside of him. 
You love him. 
You love him just the way he loves you. 
You have loved him for absolutely nothing, when he was cruel to you, when he mistreated you, when he gave you nothing but cold gazes and his cruelty. 
You have loved him during times when he felt most unlovable, when he thought he had no one, when not even his parents wanted him, when his first love lied to him, betrayed him, left him only to come back and fill him with false hope again, only to leave him once again. 
You have loved him when you showed up at Scoops Ahoy that day, you have loved him when you jumped into the water to save him, you have loved him through it all, when this started, and when he began falling, you were already in it so deeply. 
But you were so good at hiding it, you were too good, too good at making him and everyone else believe how great your dislike was for him but you were such a good actress, why else would he have believed Robin’s words?
His hands settle on your upper back and he slowly brings them back to your front, sliding them upwards to your shoulders and then your neck. His brows pull together so strongly as the kiss slows down when the lack of air gets to both him and you. 
Your lips tremble against his, your lashes flutter when you open your eyes again, you trace his bottom lip with your thumb, still sniffling, still crying as you look at his pretty face. You feel so relieved now that it’s all said and done, that your feelings are out in the open and no longer hidden underneath all your layers that you protected yourself with, all these years. 
But you don’t know what this means for you now, not even the kiss could lay it out for you. 
But Steve, he stares at you in awe, at the girl he fell so deeply, unconditionally, otherworldly in love with. The girl that stands under the pouring rain with him, the girl that lets nothing stop her from confessing her love to him, not even the thunder, the storm she fears so greatly, the girl that stands in front of him isn’t the one he started this affair with, the one he bickered with, the one with the harsh words, no, this girl is the real you, the one that lost but still gave love a chance, the one that loved despite the blows to her heart he caused, despite the hurt he put her through. 
You felt that way during his worst days, you felt that way when he loved another, you felt that way when he was with other girls, you felt that way when he spit mean words into your face – all these thoughts overwhelm him, a mix of emotions flood through him, he is not sure if he is even deserving of this, of you but he would be a damn fool if he didn’t fight for you back. 
Steve stares at you through his tears, he leans down closer to you, taking shaky breaths as he finally says the words he never thought would leave his lips again. 
“I love you,” he whispers and cradles your cheeks again, “I love you so much and I’m stupid for not saying anything either–”
Your eyes grow wide, shock freezes your whole body as you stare at him. 
You knew there was something, there had to be but love? Love isn’t something you expected him to feel for you. 
“Y-You love me?” 
Your voice sounds so broken, so small, your eyes well up with more tears, your lips tremble harder than before and somehow you look even more vulnerable than you did seconds ago. 
How could he not love you? 
How could he not give his heart to you?
How could he not imagine a future with you? 
You are everything to him, you are his everything. 
His heart melts at your gaze, at the way you're clinging to him, looking at him wide eyed like you are afraid that he isn’t real, that this isn’t real. 
“I’m so fucking in love with you, Blondie,” he whispers, his voice cracking and tears continuing to roll down his cheeks, “keeping it a secret was tearing me apart, even more so when I thought that you didn’t feel the same.”
You can’t name the emotions that burn inside of you, not right now, at least. 
But all that you know is that you feel joy and happiness, like you have never felt before. 
Your heart feels alive. 
You feel alive. 
He loves you, Steve loves you, Steve is in love with you. 
His kind, soft eyes look into yours with nothing but adoration, love and affection. His hair clings to his forehead, his clothes wet just like yours are, he is crying, not from sadness anymore but from happiness, just like you are. 
You can’t help but kiss him again, slamming your lips against his shaky ones, you kiss the man who confessed his love for you, the man you never thought would feel the same. 
He wastes not a single second to kiss you back, your noses bump harshly together but it only makes you smile, it makes you both giggle against each other's lips. Feeling your shaking body against his, Steve wraps his arms around your waist and he pulls you back, leading you into the house without breaking the kiss. 
Your sneakers squeak against the tiles in the hallway, water drips down from the both of you, needy whines and huffs fall from yours and his lips, echoing through his house when he finally closes the door to the storm, he pushes you against the red door, caging you in against it as you grab at the collar of his shirt, pulling him tighter against you as the kiss grows more desperate and hungry. 
Steve feels it too, he feels the desperation, the need to feel you closer than this. Your body against his, your hands in his hair, your tongues clashing together through the feverish kiss isn’t enough, he needs to feel your skin on his, he needs to feel your warmth, he needs to hear your sweet moans, he needs to be inside of you. 
But first, he needs you to know. 
He can feel your tears on his lips, hear your sniffles, feel your pounding heart beneath his palm as he touches your chest. 
You have loved him for so long, you have suffered for so long and he knows that you didn’t understand yet just how deep his feelings are. 
Steve pulls away from the kiss, only enough so he can speak, close enough to still feel your lips against his, he leans his forehead against yours, keeps his nose nuzzled with yours, he rubs your cheeks, wipes your tears away as he pecks your lips again and again. 
You are both panting, both clinging to one another, gazing at each other lovingly. 
“You need to hear this, Blondie,” he whispers, not feeling scared or nervous any longer. “You need to understand my feelings for you. They’re not small, they’re not in the slightest. You are the one I imagine myself buying a white picket fence house with, the one I imagine myself marrying, the one I imagine having a family with, no matter if big or small, anything you give me I will take. You need to know that you’re my future, that I have been wanting you in my future for a long while now. There is no one else for me but you.”
Steve watches the way your eyes brighten, the way they almost turn doe-eyed, a shaky breath escapes you, like you can’t believe the words that just left his mouth. You blink at him, lips curling. “Y-You want kids with me?” 
You have been by his side for so long, you have been his girl from the moment you decided you wanted to be, you have always been the missing puzzle in his life, you have always been the one that was supposed to be here, with him. All this time, you waited, waited for him and he was so blind, so unaware, so focused on anything but the love of his life. It took him time to realize that, it took him too long but he knows now, he knew for a while. 
He smiles, wiping the falling tears from your cheeks as he leans in to give you a soft peck, “as many as you’re willing to have.” 
A giggle falls from your lips and you nuzzle your nose against his, leaning your forehead to his as you wrap your arms around him tightly. 
“I can’t believe that this is real.” 
And you mean every word of that. 
Steve can’t believe that someone could love him like this, so strongly, so unconditionally, not even expecting anything in return, loving him through the war between you, loving him through heartbreak, loving him through it all. 
You have been there. 
You have always been there. 
Tears spill over his lashline and down his cheeks, a watery giggle falls from his lips, the hurt in him disappearing more and more as the light seeps back in, a brighter one that his soul had ever seen before, his heart no longer twists in pain, it beats so strongly, so lively, so happily as nothing but love and joy shines in him. 
“Me neither,” he whispers against your lips, voice shaky and filled with tears, “I can’t believe that you love me, Blondie, that you want me like this.” 
You can’t help but kiss him again, again and again. You cup his cheeks, smiling through your tears as you do something you always wanted to, kiss his pain away, kiss the tears away that stream down his cheeks. You kiss his jaw, his chin, his cheeks, every inch his tears have stained, you kiss it all away. 
“I want you more than anything, Steve Harrington,” you murmur into his skin, making the boy sob against you as he holds you tightly, tighter than he ever did before. You grab his hand and pull it towards your chest, placing it above your beating heart, “my heart belongs to you.” 
Steve could never find the right words to tell you how he felt, no matter how long he’d look for them, he would never find them, they didn’t exist, and no words that do come close to explaining just how deeply he felt for you, not even the I love you’s he gave you already come close. 
So he decides to show you instead. 
He bends down and hooks his arm around the back of your knees while the other comes to rest on your back, he tears a squeal out of you when he picks you up bridal style and carries you upstairs. 
You throw your arms around his neck and hold on tight, giggling at his sudden move. 
He can’t help but smile at the sound that falls from your lips, his heart moving in a way it never has before, a whole new rhythm taking over when he feels the shift of energy in you, when he sees the look in your eyes changing, when you let all your guards down, stripping yourself off each layer. 
You press your lips to his, pecking them softly before you move onto his cheek and then his jaw and finally his neck, kissing him while he continues his way up the stairs, trying not to get too distracted by your touch. 
“I love you, Stevie,” you whisper into his skin, “I love you so much.”
You can’t stop saying those words now that you have finally allowed yourself to let them free. 
Steve has to swallow down the sob that threatens to spill from his lips again, your words bring him so much happiness but he is also so emotional.
Rain water drips from the both of you as he walks through his dark hallway, he is careful not to slip with his wet sneakers, he kicks open the door to his room and walks inside, shutting it again, making it slam. The only source of light now being the lightning that still illuminates the sky every few seconds, the rain paddles down harshly against his windows.
Steve puts you down again so he can undress both you and himself and rid you of the soaked and cold clothes but not before cupping your cheeks and kissing you again, rubbing your wet cheeks as your lips and tongues mingle together in a feverish but passionate kiss. 
He brushes your hair back, tucking it behind your ears, he slips his hands down to your shoulders, removing your jacket and letting it fall to the ground, his fingertips grazing your bare arms that are littered with goosebumps. 
You hum against his lips, hands reaching for his belt, clinking as you unbuckle it. You then pop the button of his jeans and move on to his shirt as he does the same to you.
You both only break the kiss to take the chosen clothing item off, your eyes flutter open, instantly locking with his warm brown ones. You smile at one another as you help each other. 
You raise your arms up when he starts taking your white, now almost see through shirt off, he drops the material and wastes no second to touch your bare skin, staring at you with nothing but awe and adoration, like it is the first time he gets to see you like this. He touches you so delicately, so softly and gently that it brings a new wave of tears to your already sensitive eyes. 
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers those words to you, followed by your name that always sounds so pretty rolling off his tongue. 
Your heart flutters in your chest, your cold skin heats up beneath his warm touch. 
You take a step closer to him, almost pressing your chest against his now as you go to take his shirt off too, he looks down at you and bites his lip, eyes flashing with a deeper adoration when you rise to your tippy toes to roll the wet material off his skin, messing up his hair further when his shirt gets stuck around his head, making you both giggle. 
You rise up further, trying to pull it off when he mumbles, “don’t say anything now.”
When you finally free him from it, you throw it on the ground next to yours, smiling brightly, “there was a reason I called you Lego–” 
You gasp when he kisses you roughly, not letting you finish the sentence. You don’t hesitate to kiss back, placing your hands on his neck, touching his wet skin and raking your nails down his chest and his stomach, you reach for his belt while he kisses you breathless. 
His own hands travel down to your hips, leaving no space untouched. He feels the way you suck in a sharp breath, hears the way you whine against his lips as you tug at his pants just the way he starts working on popping the button on yours. 
You pull away from the kiss and breathe heavily against his lips, something that makes his heart flutter in his chest. 
He starts pushing down your pants when you stop him by grabbing his wrists. 
“Wait,” you whisper, worrying him with the tightness of your hold on him.
“W-Why? Is something–”
Before he can even question you, you stop him once again by pressing your lips against his, “everything is perfect,” you murmur against his skin, making his heart skip several beats as you continue kissing him, “you’re perfect.” 
He is so close to tears once again, your words match the look in your eyes so perfectly, the love that is and was only ever reserved for him is so strong that he can’t help but wonder how he never saw it before, it’s so clear and so evidently there. 
Steve never saw himself as anything perfect, not even when everyone else thought that about him throughout his short lived ‘reign’, he always had flaws, always saw them in himself, always felt like there was something wrong with him deep inside. But you make him feel special, you make him feel like he is truly something perfect, like he is worth something with the way you look at him and touch him so delicately as you reveal the side of you that wanted to love so desperately but never felt safe to. 
“I want to make you feel good, Steve,” you whisper as you latch your lips onto his neck, slowly kissing your way down to his chest and stomach before you begin to sink to your knees, “please let me.” 
Steve’s eyelashes flutter as his eyes close for a moment, the feeling of your lips kissing his wet body making him shiver in pleasure. He opens his eyes again when you hook your fingers around his belt loops, trying to tear his pants down but he stops you just the way you stopped him, the look you give him nearly makes him crumble, the big and pleading eyes, the pout on your lips, the desperation written all over your face. 
He wants to sink to his knees for you. 
He wants to make you feel good. 
So he leans down and grabs you beneath your armpits, picking you up with ease and throwing you on his bed and despite the sound of your whine, he pulls himself together and takes the rest of your clothes off, tearing off your shoes before he works his way up to your jeans, leaving you in just your underwear. 
He stares at your body in awe and in love, tracing every inch of you with his eyes as he quickly rids himself of his clothes and kicks off his shoes hastily before he gets down before you, wrapping his hand around your ankle, he looks into your eyes and he presses his lips to your skin, slowly kissing his way up to your thighs. 
“Steve,” you whine with a whisper, eyebrows furrowing and pleasure already seeping into your bones. “Please… I want to–”
“Shh, I want to taste you, my love.”
My love. 
My love. 
He called you my love. 
Your heart could burst right this second, it could explode, from joy, from happiness and love. 
You hear nothing but his voice, the smacking of his lips against your skin and the beating of your heart as he loves on you. You no longer hear the howling wind or the crashing thunder, the bolts of lightning only add to the rush you are feeling right now as you look down at him, at the pretty man between your thighs. You throw your hand into his hair, tugging at his wet strands.
“Please, Steve… Baby, I want to taste you too, I want to make you feel good, please let me…” You whine, not feeling ashamed for the desperation in your voice. “W-We can do it at the same time, please…”
Steve’s stomach flutters at your words, he stops moving and looks up at you with a blush making its way up to his cheeks. 
That is something you haven’t done before, not with each other, not with anyone else. 
His blood rushes to his core just at the image of it, his stomach burning with lust as he looks into your eager eyes. 
“You can’t say shit like that, darling,” he nearly growls and pulls away from you to take his boxers off before he moves on top of you, stealing your breath by slamming his lips back against yours, kissing you needily. 
Your moan echoes through his room, getting louder when he grinds against your center, he pushes his hands beneath you so he can unclasp your bra, ridding you off the lacy material, he throws it on the ground before he moves on to your panties. He pulls away for just a second, hooking his fingers around the elastic and helping you get rid of them in a quick motion. His lips slam against yours again as his hands move back up to your waist, grabbing it with both hands, he flips you over so you’re the one on top. 
You press your hands against his shoulders, whining when you feel his cock pressing against your center, thighs already sticking together. 
He moans loudly when he feels your warmth against him, lust swirling inside of him. 
You pull away from one another and he pushes his hands down to your butt, giving it a gentle squeeze. 
“Turn around, baby…” He whispers and you don’t waste a second to comply.
You take a deep breath and cup the side of his face, pecking his lips softly before you turn around, your knees dig into the mattress, your hands grabbing his thighs roughly when you feel a sense of nervousness rushing through you, your cheeks heat up at the position you are in, fully exposed to him in a new way but that feeling in you subsides and turns into something else when you see his erection, pre-cum rolling down his length and making your mouth water as the need to taste him, to pleasure him grows stronger than before. 
And Steve, his eyes darken with lust and he grabs your hips tightly, already leaning forward, he can’t wait any longer when you’re like this in front of him, fully exposed, your folds soaked with your slick and thighs already glistening too, you are so wet that he can smell it. He gives you a rough squeeze before he leans in and licks a stripe from your clit to your hole, making you gasp out in pleasure, a sound that shoots straight to his dick. 
Your eyes nearly roll back at the feeling of his tongue, of his mouth on you as he dives right in, devouring you so desperately as though he needs it, needs you like air. 
And you need him too. 
You press kisses along his shaft, teasing him by massaging his balls and you slowly flick your hand up and down around him, humming against him as his moans sound through the room, getting more desperate the longer you continue this. 
“I’m gonna make you feel so good, baby,” you promise before you spit down into your palm, wrapping your hand back around his length, a little firmer this time, you jerk him off and swirl your tongue around his leaking tip before you finally wrap your lips around him and take him deeply into your mouth, closing your watery eyes and hollowing your cheeks around him. 
Steve moans loudly against you, sending vibrations through you, he slips his tongue inside of you, holding you tighter than before as he laps at your pussy with desperation, getting lost in the pleasure of tasting you and feeling your warm mouth around him. 
You look so perfect, so fucking sexy with your hair falling down your arched back, your skin glowing beneath the flashing lights of the storm, he can’t help but run his palm up and down your butt, squeezing and grabbing at your skin, moaning even louder when you grind back against his face as you take him deeper and deeper until Steve can feel the back of your throat. 
He whimpers your name, eyes rolling back as he delves deeper into you, slipping two of his fingers into you along with his tongue, he scissors you, spreading you open for him. He can feel you clenching around his fingers, he can feel you drooling all over him. 
Your moan vibrates all around his cock, making you pull it out of your mouth in order to take a breath. Your concentration starts to fail you as his fingers move rapidly inside of you, his tongue lapping at everything he can take that is dripping out of you. You keep moving your hand on him as your hips twitch. 
“S-Stevie…” He doesn’t care that you are not sucking him off right now, he is only caring about your pleasure. He needs you to feel treasured, cared for, and he needs you to feel it with him only. That he is the only one that can bring you all of this, even if it sounds possessive… He wants to be the only one, forever.
You feel your belly burn and you look down at his cock, trying to pull yourself together, trying to forget about the throbbing happening in your pussy. You want to make him feel good. You want to hear him come undone as well. So you open your mouth once more, licking at the head and pressing the tip of your tongue right on the slit. You feel Steve groan against you, and then you finally take him inside once more.
You bop your head, swirling your tongue around him as tears fall from your eyes, you are so deeply lost in the pleasure, you forget everything around you, only he matters. You can feel him twitching in your mouth, you can hear his moans and how much louder they get and you feel your own release approaching as he flicks your clit with his thumb and curls his fingers inside of you, using both his digits and his tongue to unravel you. 
“I know you want to let go for me, darling,” he murmurs against you. 
You can only hum around him, wanting to feel him cumming down your throat. 
“Please do it, cum on my tongue,” he whispers as he drags his fingers in and out of you, making your stomach tense up hotly. 
You squeeze your eyes shut, twisting your wet palm around him as drool continues to roll down his length. You want him to find his release, you want it so badly. 
You grab his knee, holding on tightly as a cry tears from your throat and your legs nearly give out when your high washes over you, shaking through your core and making your body feel tense yet released all at once. His other hand gripping your hip tightly to keep you pressed against his mouth, not letting you move away.
“Mmm,” Steve hums against you as though you are the sweetest thing he ever tasted. 
You wish you could see his face. 
“Just like that,” he praises, giving your butt another squeeze, he laps at your pussy, dragging his tongue along your folds, teasing your already sensitive clit before he moves back to your entrance. 
His own hips almost buck up when you hollow your cheeks further and take him deeper, nearly making him cum too soon for his liking. 
“W-Wait, baby, please… I wanna cum inside of you,” he says with a shaky, pleading voice as he tugs at your waist, trying to pull you off him so he can have you back in his arms, so he can see your face again and feel you around him differently. He would’ve chuckled at the whine falling from your lips if he wasn’t so emotional right now. “Come here,” he whispers, holding you tightly as he turns you around and pulls you onto his lap, straddling him. 
Meeting his eyes again, your lips part when you see the burning desperation in them, his cheeks are flushed and his chin glistens with your release. He looks so beautiful. 
Steve’s hands move from your waist to your hips, fingers digging into your skin as your own hands reach for his shoulders. 
No words need to be said, you both know what you want, what you need as your eager hands reach for one another, trying to pull the other closer and closer until you’re skin to skin, closer than you have ever been before. 
“My beautiful girl,” he whispers, leaning his forehead against yours and wrapping his arm around you, hugging you against him as you place your hand between you both and wrap it around his length again, teasing both him and yourself when you slip it through your sensitive, wet folds. 
Your bottom lip trembles, emotions running deep because of his words. 
You never thought that you would ever hear such words falling from his lips, you never thought you would ever be this blessed. 
You throw your arm around his shoulder and press your lips against his as you slowly sink down on his length, taking him deeper and deeper until you’re fully seated on him, making both yourself and him whimper in pleasure. His fingers dig deeper into your skin, holding you tighter than ever, he stops breathing when he feels you clenching around him, whining as you adjust to his size. 
His heart skips a beat when you place your palm on his chest, resting it there as you press yourself even tighter against him and it hits him – this is it, everything he ever wanted now belongs to him, it’s all his, you are his. 
And he is yours, wholeheartedly and unconditionally yours. 
You start rolling your hips slowly, breathing heavier, holding onto him tighter, gasping and sucking in sharp breaths when he moves with you, pushing his hips up as he fucks into you deeper. 
A sniffle falls from you when you pull away from the kiss, breathing in shakily, you open your eyes slowly to find him looking at you already, a loving, soft gaze flashing in his honey eyes, the love in them not hidden at all, it’s all open for you now, all there for you to see and to feel as he leans into you, pressing his lips to your chin and peppering kissing along your jawline, making his way down to your neck as he murmurs your name sweetly. 
“You have no idea how much I love you,” he whispers, followed by your name that rolls off his tongue so beautifully. “I was going crazy, thinking that I didn’t stand a chance with you, honey.” 
He was the only one for you, from the moment you laid your eyes on him, he was the only one. 
“S-Steve,” you whisper as you feel yourself nearing another sob, his words and his touches overwhelming you.
You bury your hands in his hair, combing your fingers through it before you grab it tightly. 
“I don’t think you understand,” he whispers against your collarbones, leaving tender kisses and marking your skin with love bites, “you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” 
Your bottom lip quivers, your chest contracts and you can’t hold it in any longer. 
Years of pining and longing, of feeling hopeless and unworthy of him and his love while watching, admiring from afar and wishing for nothing but a chance with him, a piece of his heart, all while losing yourself in a darkness you have found home in, a darkness he took away again. 
He gave you light and warmth and now he gave you more, not only a piece of his heart but he gave you his whole. 
Your tears spill just as strongly as before, an uncontrollable sob falls from your lips, leading you to bury your face in his neck, you wrap your arms around him so tightly, hugging him strongly, breathing in his scent and letting your heart match the beating of his own. 
“I got you,” Steve whispers as he blinks through his own tears, “I got you, darling and I’m not letting you go, not ever.” 
You press your lips to his skin, shutting your eyes tightly. The burning in your chest, in your stomach all feeling too much, you hold onto him, you cling to him, scared of letting go. 
Steve’s heart could burst at any second now, feeling your tears rolling down his skin, your hands, your body clinging to him like you’re afraid to lose him because you are, you are afraid to lose him. 
Someone is afraid to lose him. 
And he nearly let you slip through his fingers. 
A silent cry falls from his lips this time, tears pool in his eyes and he pulls you closer and closer until you’re completely flush against one another, pushing in deeper and deeper to feel you closer, to feel you in the most intimate way as he spreads you open and you pick up the pace, rolling your hips faster, whimpering and gasping into his neck. 
“Please don’t let me go,” you whisper, pressing kisses to his hot skin, “please don’t ever leave me,” you beg despite the promise he just made to you. 
The brokenness in your shaky voice only makes him more desperate to show you just how deeply in love he is with you, how he would do anything for you, how there is nothing and no one that could take him away from you, how he would come crawling back to you over and over again even if you didn’t love him. 
He slides his hand up your body, cupping each side of your face, he urges you to face him, wanting to see you again and you look at him, with big and glassy eyes, you look into his eyes. 
“I will never leave you,” he whispers softly, wiping your tears before he reaches for your hand, bringing it back up to his chest, he places it over his heart, “I’m yours, my heart belongs to you, darling.”
Steve sees it in your eyes, just how long you have wanted this for, how special this moment is to you, how special he is to you, how much love there was hidden in your heart just for him. 
He will worship the ground you walk on for the rest of his life. 
“I love you so much,” you sniffle, unable to say anything else. 
His lips curl into a smile despite the tears that fall down his already wet cheeks, he pulls you against him, bumping his nose against yours accidentally as he pecks your lips, “you make me so fucking happy,” he kisses you, “and I don’t think you even realize that.” Kiss. “I’m so in love with you, honey.” Kiss. “I love you with my whole heart–”
You smash your lips against his, kissing him with everything that you have, moving your lips softly yet roughly with his, parting them with your tongue as you slip it into his mouth, deepening the kiss further. 
He moans against you, placing his large hand on your cheek, he matches your pace and kisses you back hungrily, getting lost in the feeling of you, of your heat and your burning skin against his, your walls that tighten so strongly around him that it makes his mouth water and his cock twitch inside of you, his body screams for release but his heart aches for this moment to never stop, not realizing yet that this is only the beginning of your story. 
Your hands grab at whatever they can reach, his shoulders, his biceps, his face, his messy hair and finally his hands as you pull them away from your chest so you can intertwine your fingers with his. You feel the coil in your stomach growing bigger and bigger, the burning in your thighs intensifying by the second. His moans and whimpers vibrate against your lips when you keep clenching around him.
Filthy sounds take over the room, your whines of desperation, the slick noise of his cock slipping in and out of you as you ride him, the sound of your lips smacking against each other. 
But nothing, nothing about this moment is filthy or dirty. Everything about this is more than special, more than what words could describe this very moment. Your hearts beat the same rhythm, finally finding each other, your souls entwine as your bodies meet in the most intimate way, you are both overwhelmed by the feelings that rush through you and yet you feel peace because you finally are where you were always supposed to be, in each other’s arms, holding one another and making love to each other as everything fades to nothing but the two of you. 
And it feels like forever, neither of you no longer wet from the rain but from the sweat that coats your foreheads, your moans turn into weak whimpers as you’re both panting, your kisses never stopping, not even when you lose your breaths, you are aching, you both are, you are sensitive and in need of release. 
You are shaking and so is he, his cock so hard inside of you, your walls so sensitive as you are twitching. 
He holds you possessively, from the strong hold on your waist to the touch of his hand on your cheeks, he is showing you with his touch that you are his, only his. 
No words need to be shared, no warnings, nothing, you both feel it, you both know what you want, what you need. 
Despite the lack of air, your kiss deepens, your lips moving roughly and needily as his digits work on your sensitive nub, bringing you closer and closer to the edge. You wrap your arms around him again, hugging him so tightly as you and he finally let go, allowing yourself to bask in the pleasure of coming undone. 
Steve moans so needily, pressing his palm so strongly against your shoulder blade, he keeps you close, whimpering your name against your lips followed by not one but a few ‘I love you’s’ as he fills you up to the brim. 
“S-Stevie,” you whisper shakily, twitching and clenching around him still, even as you slow down, more and more. “I love you.” 
And even when this moment felt forever, it still wasn’t enough, how could it ever be? Not even forever would be enough with you, he needs more, so much more. 
You fall limply against him and rest your head on his shoulder as you try to catch your breath and he holds you through it all, panting just like you as he lies back, taking you with him, and rests his head on the pillows behind him, playing with your hair and running his fingers through it, tracing your skin with the tips of his fingers, making no moves to pull out of you just yet. 
The heat of your skin burns against his own, your hand lays over his heart so perfectly and he takes it in his, raising it up to his lips and kissing your bare ring finger. 
In the arms of the man you love is where you found your home a long time ago but now it no longer feels cold or lonesome, one sided or saddening, it truly feels like home now, filled with light and warmth, love. He found a home in you too, he finally did. 
Seconds and minutes go by and you stay like this, clinging to one another and loving every moment of this. Your cheek is squished against his chest, you are breathing him in, your heart fluttering at the thought that this is the true beginning of it all. 
You open your eyes, your lips curling into a smile when you find him looking down at you, adoration so deep in his beautiful features, his hand still holding yours. 
It’s so dark in the room, the lightning no longer flashing, thunder no longer rumbling, the storm has passed and only the light rain remains. You still see his handsome face, the color of his cheeks, the pretty brown eyes that you adore so much, his kissable lips. 
You cup his cheek and tilt your chin up, moving closer to him so you can press your lips against his cheek. 
“You’re so pretty, Steve Harrington,” you whisper and kiss the corner of his mouth, “pretty baby.” 
Steve doesn’t know why out of all the words you have called him, these are the ones that make him blush the most, his cheeks redden and he feels grateful for the darkness in the room. 
“That’s you, darling,” he whispers and steals a kiss from you, snaking his arm around you further, he smiles when you press your palms against his chest and lean your chin down, staring up at him with love filled eyes. 
“Darling,” you whisper, lips curling into a smile, “I love that.” 
His hands squeeze your waist, his eyes not straying away from you, not for a single second, “yeah?” 
You nod and lean closer to kiss his chin, “mhm.” 
As you lay here on top of him, showering him in kisses, gazing up at him starry eyed, he feels comfort and warmth blossom in him thinking back to a time when he wasn’t even aware of all this, when he didn’t think that it was even possible for anyone to love him, to find out that you did, you out of all people, you who he thought hated his guts more than anything but loved him in secret, a secret you nearly took to your grave. 
Oh, he would have suffered, he would have felt such a tragic loss if you had died that night but it wouldn’t have hit him until weeks or maybe even months later, when he would have finally allowed himself to look at your picture, to remember the memories of you, to remember your voice and your beautiful face, remember the few gentle moments you had with each other, only then would he have felt the truth coming to life, the feelings he always refused and denied, he would have realized that it was you, that it should have been you, that it was always supposed to be you but it would have been too late, you would have been gone and it would’ve broken him, he would have never recovered, he would have never forgiven himself for finding his love for you when it was much too late.
You would have been the loss of his life. 
That thought shouldn’t even plague him right now because you’re here, in his arms, tracing his skin with your finger as you smile up at him. 
“I love you so much,” he whispers instead of tracing those words into your skin like he had gotten used to doing. 
This all still feels like a dream, a way too good of a dream.
The smile that reached your eyes wasn’t one he had ever seen before, no matter how happy, how comfortable you were around him, he had never seen such a bright, happy, relaxing smile on your pretty features. 
He had never felt the touch of your lips in such a soft way, a kiss so delicate that it made his chest vibrate with a new wave of emotions. 
“And I love you,” you murmur against his lips, “I hope you don’t get sick of me saying that.”
Steve scoffs at your words, raising his brows as he stares at you in disbelief, his hand moving up to your upper back, resting them on your shoulder blades as he presses a kiss to your nose, “honey, this is all I ever wanted.”
To hear him say such words only makes the dream-like state you are in much more intense. 
Who would’ve thought that you would hear these words from him? 
“I always had a crush on you,” Steve whispers, admitting something to you that he himself struggled to accept only a few months back. 
This time, it’s your eyebrows that shoot up in surprise, shock flashing in your eyes, “w-what?”
There is no way that Steve ever felt anything other than dislike for you, especially before the upside down. 
Steve chuckles to himself, moving his hand up to your face, he tucks your hair behind your ear and smiles at you. 
“I always watched you too, Blondie,” he admits, watching the way your softened eyes fill with confusion, “but I was an idiot, I-I didn’t know how to talk to you, I knew how to talk to every other girl but you? Fuck,” he sighs, furrowing his brows as he takes a deep breath, “I didn’t know how to talk to you because you made me so fucking nervous, it’s like all my confidence slipped away the moment you looked at me with those pretty eyes.” 
Your breath hitches in your throat at his eyes well up with tears again, words he had kept inside for so long now finally slipping from his lips. 
“And you weren’t… you weren’t–”
“Nice?” You ask, tilting your head to the side, your heart starts pounding again. 
He chuckles for a moment and shakes his head, “no, I– you weren’t supposed to be nice to me, I wasn’t nice to you, but that’s not what I mean, I… You just, I don’t know how to– I always messed up around you and it kept happening so I put on this King Steve persona, especially when I was around you and fuck… Honey, I tried to impress you but I always felt like you weren’t looking at me, no matter what I did, you were never looking at me.”
You don’t know what hit you harder tonight, the three words he repeatedly blessed you with or this revelation. 
All you know is that you feel it in your core, the shock and the confusion. 
You shake your head a little, like you don’t understand a word he said. 
“When we wrote notes to each other, I-I didn’t want to admit it to myself back then but I really fucking hoped that something would come out of it but nothing did… I know you thought that Tommy set me up to it but he didn’t.”
You don’t know what to say, you don’t even know what to think, it’s all so much, it’s all too much for one night. 
“I-I don’t–”
Steve cups your cheeks, shaking his head as he isn’t done yet. 
“No, I waited for you… I waited for you at every game, I always looked around trying to find you in the crowd, trying to catch a glimpse of you, even when I didn’t want to admit it to myself, I always waited for you.” 
Your eyes crinkle though they well up with tears again, you couldn’t describe the feelings in you, not even if you tried. 
His hands on your skin feel softer than ever, his eyes shine with tears and his bottom lip quivers.
“I was there, Steve,” you whisper, blinking through your tears, swallowing the nervousness, “I was there.” 
He nods, lips curling into a soft smile, “I know that now b-but I wish I knew back then, I wish I wasn’t so hard on you…”
You know the look in his eyes, the regret, the guilt he feels from that day at the mall and the few other bad ones. 
But they don’t matter anymore, they haven’t mattered for a while now, and they especially don’t matter now. 
Shaking your head, you lean up, cupping his cheek too, you kiss him sweetly, softly, stealing his breath away with tenderness. You place your hand over his, guiding it down to your chest and placing it over your heart. 
“Those days are over, they don’t matter anymore,” you whisper and keep a tight hold on his hand, “you have me now.”
And you have him. 
He is yours, he wants to be yours so badly. 
Steve nods, leaning into the touch of your hand, he blinks his tears away and moves his head, pressing his lips against your palm, and he kisses you there, making you smile. 
“And you have me,” he whispers softly, watching the way your eyes sparkle with happiness, with love. 
You catch him by surprise when you start showering him in kisses, pressing your lips to his face, to his cheeks and his forehead, to his nose and his chin and then finally his lips, making him giggle at the sudden sweet affection and then, you cutely nuzzle your nose against his, giggling through it all yourself. 
You only did this once, on the fourth of July, when you were wasted. Your lips went crazy across his whole face, you kissed him all over, complimented him and looked at him as though he was your own personal sun. 
How could he not see back then? 
How could he not see that it wasn’t the alcohol but the love you already felt for him, the love you couldn’t contain in that moment. 
Steve makes you squeal when he moves too suddenly, grabbing your waist and flipping you over so he is the one on top, he cups your cheeks and leans down, doing what you just did, leaving no spot unkissed. 
“Steve!” You giggle, squeezing your eyes shut as he trails kisses down to your jaw and your neck, tickling you with his hair and the light stubble around his mouth. You grab at his waist, holding on tightly. 
“You’re so fucking cute,” he murmurs into your neck, kissing you there over and over until you grab his face and pull him back up to you. 
He looks down at you, moving his hand up to your face, he tucks away your hair and caresses your cheek, admiring your puffy lips, your beautiful eyes as you look at him with nothing but love in them. 
Everything he ever wanted is now right in front of him, in reach and now all he needs to do is ask. 
“Do you want to go on a date with me, Blondie?” He asks, unable to contain the smile on his face as he watches the way your eyes crinkle and a giggle falls from your lips, you cup each side of his neck, pulling him down for a kiss, answering him in the sweetest way.  He only chuckles against your lips, pulling away for just an inch in order to mumble against your lips, “I need words darling…”
And that little word that will change your life forever finally comes out of your lips,
“Yes.”
 ♡
tagging friends and mutuals
@prettyboyeddiemunson @taintedcigs @mysticmunson @corrodedcorpses @maroon-cardigan @thecreelhouse @ibellcipem @joekeerysmoles @munsonlore @sherrylyn0628 @munson-mjstan @agirlwholovesrockstars @moon-flowerrs
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phanatomism · 2 months ago
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lost. ep 1
sam winchester x reader
summary ; after getting in a fight with your father, you find two unlikely boys in an abandoned farm house.
warnings ; none
word count ; 1.2k
you shut the door, a loud slam erupting and reverberating across the street. it was empty here, nothing for miles around. the cattle mooed in the distance and grass blew with the wind, indicating an oncoming storm. you scream angrily at your father, who, in turn, drove off. the tires wailed hard against the pavement. the sound alone making your ears want to bleed.
the air around you made goosebumps form on your skin and you shivered. thoughts of a warm fire or coffee filled your mind. did your father really just leave you? deserted? the thought crossed your mind, but you shoved it back. wanting to hope he’d turn around, but he was already gone. the headlights vanished into the distance and you were alone. alone in the middle of nowhere, dark with no street lights to guide you.
you plopped down on the grass, next to the road. you listened expertly for sounds of cars in the distance but all you could hear was farm animals and— farm animals. there must be a farm somewhere nearby. you sat up quickly, rushing to your feet. they carried you to a small place in the distance. it seemed to be old, almost rundown. there was a nice car out front, an impala. it looked new, out of place for the area. you shrugged it off, wandering into the rustic farmhouse.
“hello?” you called out, striding into the house, the door shutting carefully behind you. it was quiet, too quiet. “hello?—“
all of a sudden, a gun— pointed straight at your nose. the smell of gunpowder automatically filled your nostrils.
“sam!” a voice called out, you were too focused on the gun being pointed at you that you didn’t even realize the man standing behind you.
“she’s just a girl,” the voice behind you let out, “not one of them. she doesn’t even fit the description, dean.”
heavy sounds of rain started to fall onto the old, abandoned house. it echoed throughout the walls.
dean hesitantly put the gun down, “what’re you even doin’ here, lady?”
you studied his face before answering. he was tall, strong looking. his jawline was sharp and he had intense eyes that pierced through your skull. “i.. got lost. my dad left me on the road.. i..” you were still shaken up from the events that just happened. a gun being pointed in your face wasn’t your fair share of fun.
“she’s scared, dean. you scared her. hey, i’m sam. this is dean. we can help you, we just need to get you out of here first.” sam came into frame, he was even taller than dean. he, too, had sharp features but his eyes were soft and sincere.
“she shouldn’t be here,” sam whispered to dean, harshly, grabbing him by the arm.
dean scoffed and shook his head, bringing a hand up to wipe his face.
“don’t you think i know that?” dean gritted his teeth, whispering back.
“is there something you’re not telling me?” you asked, curiously. the two men were acting odd, strange even. it worried you. why would they have guns and be in an abandoned farmhouse? were they murderers?
“look, we don’t have much time to explain.” sam expressed, “it’s just not safe for you to be here.”
“then where else am i supposed to go? it’s pouring rain outside.” you bit back, getting irritated with their lack of response.
sam sighed, he too brought his hand up to rub his temples. “maybe we should come back another time, dean. let’s get this girl to—“
“sam, we can’t just leave! we just got here! we haven’t even started—“ dean paused and glanced at you, angrily. he dug out his keys, throwing them to sam. “get her out of here.”
sam nodded and placed a respectful hand on your lower back to lead you out of the abandoned farmhouse.
“here, put this jacket over your head so you don’t get rained on.” sam stated, shrugging off his jacket, revealing his toned forearms.
you glanced away, nodding. a small thank you escaped your lips as you placed the carhart jacket over your hair. you and sam hustled outside, your shoes squishing in the now muddy dirt.
sam opened the door for you before quickly running over to the drivers side. you both sat in the impala, panting from running so fast.
“is he your brother?” you questioned, glancing to look at sam.
sam ran a hand through his wet hair and nodded, “yeah, he is.”
sam started the car, the engine letting out a rumble-like purr. heat started to fill the packed, almost claustrophobic car. you sighed, finally feeling warm for the first time in a hour.
after a few moments, you spoke up. “thanks.”
“oh, yeah.. of course.” sam replied, a soft smile appearing on his delicate features.
“what did you.. mean by… it not being safe for me to be in there?” you asked, tilting your head softly to the side.
sam looked at you with an expression that seemed unreadable, he let out another sigh, his head falling back against the headrest on the seat. “well… do you want the truth or the short answer?”
“the truth,” you didn’t like how these brothers kept beating around the bush.
“you’re not gonna believe me,” he chuckled, another smile on his face. “me and my brother we… hunt things. that thing in there, kills girls like you. innocent girls who wander in after being lost. there’s been cases over the last couple of years…”
you cut him off, “what do you mean thing?”
“i mean a spirit.” he answered and you kept yourself from almost bursting out laughing.
“a spirit?” you said, snickering. “what’re you really doing here?”
“i mean it,” his tone serious as he stared into your eyes with his hazel ones.
you paused, a sense of unease filling you. was he being genuine? “oh..”
you too, fell back against the slightly uncomfortable seat. “you.. hunt these things?”
“yeah,” sam responded, glancing outside the window. the trees swayed with the wind from the storm passing overhead. “my brother and i do.”
“that’s kind of cool,” you laughed, you were being sincere though. it was kind of cool. hunting the paranormal.
“is it?” he looked at you, a confused look plastered across his face.
“it is.” you answered, smiling at him. he was cute, sam had longer hair than dean, bangs that covered his forehead and a smile that’d make a girls knees weak. he looked to be in his early twenties. you glanced away, looking at the cows that sat down across the pasture.
“do you want us to get you a motel?” sam asked.
“can i join you?”
“can you what?”
you looked at him, “can i join you? hunting things. i’m tired of my life, sam. my father just left me out here in the middle of nowhere. im from a boring town, with a boring life.. i want adventure.”
“we just met?” sam laughed softly, “you want to join us?”
“i’m serious,” you said, looking at him with soft eyes.
“i’ll get you a motel, and i’ll talk to my brother. you sleep on this, okay?” sam said, taking the car out of park and beginning to drive it down the country road.
you nodded, gazing out the window once more.
← 𝐒𝐀𝐌 𝐖. 𝐌𝐋
𖤐 phanatomism 2025.
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bnuuys-writing · 5 months ago
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Hello everyone. Small update! I am doing better other than crying my eyes out at seeing Grandpa Baul dote on his grandson (i miss my grandpa.) ((I also love Sebek very much)) SOOOOOOO i wrote this little thing for y'all. A lil sampler of my humor.
Imagine telling Malleus gargoyle jokes while attending his club..
Scene one
You couldn't help but peek over at Malleus as you stood beside him. Shoulder to shoulder. Rain pouring heavily as he scared up at the gargoyle upon Sam's workshop. Of course, you were attending his club in order to decide which club you would like to partake in. Yet, this one seemed a little... Chilly. You couldn't help but squeeze yourself a little closer to Malleus' warm body before thinking of something that would distract you from the cold and the little bit of rain hitting your face whenever the wind blew in a direction Malleus wasn't holding his umbrella.
"Malleus. I have a joke for you." You spoke out, a small smile forming onto your lips. Malleus, in turn at hearing your voice beside him, tore his gaze away from the beautiful gargoyle and turned to look down at you.
"Yes, Child of Man?" His voice was as if thunder had rolled over and his eyes were holding such fondness for you, it almost made you forget what you were intending to say. Before the thought could escape, you quickly blurted it out.
"How does a gargoyle sneeze?" You voice out, a large smile forming on your face as his gaze turned from a softness to a look of curiosity. His free hand cupped underneath his chin as he was trying to think of what the answer could be.
"How does a gargoyle sneeze?" He questioned before blinking slowly at you, and a small tilt in his head gave you the idea that he had no answer for you. With the best acting skills you could muster, you brought up your arm to your mouth and—
"Stat-choo!" You couldn't help but giggle after your joke and the look of Malleus' inquisitive face turned into a look of shock. Two seconds pass... Three seconds pass... Before a large laugh bellowed out from your friend as he shook his head.
Yes... Statue...
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rueclfer · 5 months ago
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not a lot, just forever // oneshot part one
a/n: keigo's was specifically inspired by this :'-) (im bawling)(the other's will be out sometime later) happy birthday keigo baby <3
keigo takami, touya todoroki, tomura shigaraki
keigo never stopped wincing at the wind chills. even with several layers hung over his shoulders and the thickest coat, nothing stopped his scars from burning against the coastal breeze blitzing past his figure.
today he feels that familiar burning in his stomach as if he's ready to hurl over and release its contents into the sand.
"god, it's really pouring." you mutter towards the waves crashing against the shore.
your grip tightens on the umbrella, making sure the wind doesn't take your only cover with it.
"the first rain of the season is always insane, ya know." keigo murmurs, eyes turning down to his feet, watching his heels dig into the wet sand.
"it's nice though." you softly smile, reaching up and brushing away the ocean spray from the chilled skin of his cheeks.
you two stop for a moment and take in the ambience- the rain bouncing off of your umbrella, the crying seagulls in the distance, and the waves violently folding into one another.
keigo never considered himself religious.
for more nights than not, he finds himself asking how he'd be able to to walk this earth again- if he'll amount to anything ever again. every day is hard. he lost a piece of himself. nothing feels right.
no amount of praying could save him from himself, but you did.
"it is." he returns the smile, raising his gaze to meet yours, making his stomach twist.
you wrap an arm around his waist, pulling him closer under your shared umbrella- barely big enough to shield the both of you.
"are you cold, though? it's chilly." you rub your hand up and down his back, gently running your palm over his scarred shoulder blades.
keigo remembered the first few days without his wings and how cold and haunting it was. uneasiness and vulnerability followed him everywhere, but he found solace and safety plopped right on top of you with your fingers tracing the curves of his back.
he lost everything, and there you were to keep him together.
"we can go back to the car soon, if you want. get home and snuggle?"
he doesn't answer. he takes your arms around from his back and holds your hand in his, running a thumb across your knuckle. keigo was shivering, but nothing was more uncomfortable than the dryness in his throat and the burning flame in his stomach.
you slightly cock your head, and take note of his cold clammy hands and fidgety feet tapping against the wet sand. "actually, let's start heading back, yeah? it's gonna get dark soon."
you start to step away before he pulls you back with a tighter grasp around your hand.
"wait. angel, i-um." he stammers, eyes suddenly going wide. "wait."
keigo never believed in a god. not until now when he lowered his knee to the ground, and whispered a prayer.
"marry me. please."
you turn around and find him kneeling right before you, tears brimming his eyes and raindrops pelting against him.
there's a desperate strain in his voice, a cloud of air escaping his lips with every word. it was you and forever, or nothing at all. keigo had lost everything, everyone, and himself over and over again, but you were his salvation.
he brings your hand to his lips, pressing a soft kiss against your knuckle.
"please." he mutters once more against your cold skin, letting the heat of his exhale warm the back of your hand.
a beat passes. then two.
"i had a whole speech prepared, i swear, and i'm blanking right now because i'm so fucking nervous, but i love you. i love you and i am nothing without you."
you don't notice that your umbrella has fallen off to the side, letting the storm engulf you both.
"for the longest time, i wanted nothing more than to watch the world from above again, but i need you to know that i'd die to walk this earth with you. i want forever with you. i'd sacrifice the skies for that. please."
you fall against him, wrapping your arms around his neck, choking back sobs.
"god, you're so dramatic, kei" you cry into his neck.
he huffs out a hearty laugh, and his shoulders fall in relief as he melts into you.
"if i stuck to the script it would've been ten times more theatrical i'm sorry to disappoint." he mumbles in your hairline.
"yes. it's you and me. yes." you choke out. "let's have forever together."
you pull away from him, watching the beads of water trail down his nose bridge and fall into your lap.
"i love you. i love you, i love you, and i love you." you mutter against his lips, peppering kisses in between every breath. "forever."
-
keigo tag: @bitchyfestivalbouquet
mha tag: @lotuslovers @babylambdietcoke @0skullyard0
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littlexdeaths · 1 year ago
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pushing up daisies - e.m.
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kas eddie munson x fem reader
treat me bad like i’m no one's daughter,
body bag, baby, i’m a goner…
18+ ONLY MDNI
warnings: ANGSTTTTT, mentions of eddie’s death and the upside down, canon divergent (reader is chosen as vecna’s last victim instead of max), established relationship, soft!dom eddie, biting/blood drinking, lil bit of jealous eddie, public sex, unprotected piv sex, cream pie
based on love is a… by pvris
word count: 2.9k
a/n: this is honestly something i am so incredibly proud of, so i hope you all enjoy it. a big thank you to my babes @undead-supernova @strangerstilinski and @lokis-army-77 for helping me with parts of this fic, i love you all so much 💕
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The sky was dark, storm clouds rolling in as you trudged through the rusted gates of Hawkin’s memorial cemetery.
Only the booming sounds of thunder and your labored breathing filled the morning air. Rain droplets poured steadily onto your head, dripping down the collar of your rain jacket. The clothing seemingly useless as the heavy rain soaked you to the bone.
The wild daisies clutched in your fist were beginning to wilt as your eyes scanned over the sea of headstones. Your throat tightens once you find his, now wishing that Dustin had been lying to you.
The words BURN IN HELL FREAK were still visible, despite the male’s best effort to clean them off the previous day. It had been less than a week since the funeral, but that was plenty of time for someone to vandalize his headstone. You hated this town.
Reaching the now desecrated grave you sigh, gently running your fingers along the top of the headstone. The rough edges scraped against your fingertips as you knelt down in front of it. Letting your hand fall into your lap, glancing down at the sad excuse of a bouquet in the other.
He deserved more than this… he deserved more than anything this shitty town had to offer.
“Hey Eds,” you whisper, despite the desolation surrounding you.
You carefully set the daisies onto the ground, blinking away the tears that threatened to spill past your waterline. The white of the flowers contrasted sharply against the dirt, which was quickly turning to mud beneath your knees. But you didn’t mind.
“I’m sorry I didn’t come to the funeral,” guilt laces your shaky voice as you tug your lower lip between your teeth. “I just… I couldn’t see you like that.”
Despite the feeble attempts that Dustin and Robin made to coax you out of bed that day, nothing was going to change your mind. You didn’t want to remember him that way, as you were already grappling with the image of him dying in Dustin’s arms.
A memory that haunts your dreams every night.
“I hope you can forgive me,” you mumble, reaching into your pocket to pull out his lucky set of dice. A sad smile tugs at the corner of your mouth as you begin to place them along his headstone, “I brought a peace offering.”
A loud crack has your eyes flicking up, body jolting in surprise as a bolt of lightning strikes a tree in the distance. The impact splits the trunk down the middle, the wind picking up speed and taking your flowers with it.
The torn petals spread across the unkempt ground, the gesture now ruined. Just like everything else you touched.
You blame yourself for his death, knowing he would still be here if Vecna hadn't chosen you. You would live through a thousand years in a prison of your own mind, let that monster drain you of your entire existence— if it meant Eddie would have lived.
“It’s all my fault,” you don’t stop the tears from flowing down your cheeks, staring intently at the stone in front of you.
Edward Lee Munson, now at peace.
Those bold words stare back at you, mirroring the stone that sat just a few feet besides his. One you had become very familiar with over the years.
Elizabeth Ann Munson.
Beloved wife and mother, may she rest in peace.
While hers were more faded, they still brought you a small sense of comfort. Knowing that Eddie was with her now, he was safe. But that comfort wouldn’t heal the hole that had been punched through your chest.
“I miss you,” you hiccup, your tears steadily flowing now, the moisture beginning to blur your vision. “It w-wasn’t supposed to b-be you.”
Your soft cries soon morphed into pained sobbing, your shoulders hunched over as you dug your fists into the earth. You were grateful that Steve had let you come alone, not wanting anyone to see you like this.
In the short time that Eddie had been gone, you felt suffocated. With Vecna still alive and plotting, you were constantly being watched. Your friends not knowing if the demon, creature, whatever he was— would come back to claim you for good.
Part of you hoped for it, mentally pleaded to be taken away too. Because a life without Eddie, wasn’t a life you wanted to live.
A loud scream pierces the air, and it takes you a moment to realize the sound has come from you. Your chest heaves from the force of it, allowing your head to tilt back as your eyes slip shut. Enjoying how the rain soaks into your pores, washing away any trace of your tears.
You sit like that for a while, as the storm continues to wage on around you. Silently wishing that the rain would wash you away too. Dirt is caked under your fingernails, mud coated your shins and the hem of your skirt. You knew you couldn’t sit out here much longer, as your teeth started to chatter from the cold.
Your head falls forward, allowing yourself one last look at his headstone. The red paint has stained it horribly, tainting the last thing he had left in this world.
“I’ll come back tomorrow and clean this shit up, I promise.” You say, lifting up your pinky towards the block of stone. You hold it there for a moment before your hand falls back to your side.
“I love you, Eddie,” you sniffle, wiping your nose on your sleeve as you start to stand. Turning around as you begin to wipe the dirt from your knees.
As you take a step forward your shoe begins to sink into the wet soil, almost swallowing your foot whole. An annoyed huff leaves your lips as you try to pull it back out. But any attempt is stopped short as a cold hand wraps around your other ankle. A deep groan echoes in your ears as your eyes widen in fear.
This was it… Vecna’s come back for you.
While everything inside you begs you to run, your body remains frozen. Hyperventilating as the ground beneath you begins to shift, your feet sinking in deeper as another body fights its way out from the earth. A strained grunt of your name snaps you out of your petrified state, recognizing the voice immediately.
This was a cruel joke, knowing he was taking on Eddie’s form just to hurt you more. So you decided you wouldn’t stick around to witness it.
If you were going to die, it would be by his own hands.
“No!” You shout, yanking your ankle out of that icy grip as you make a break for it.
You don’t make it very far though, only reaching the edge of his grave before you lose your footing. The tip of your shoe catches on a tree root, sending your body tumbling forward onto the wet ground. The impact knocks the wind out of you as you struggle to take a breath in. Your nails dig into the grass for purchase as you try to crawl away.
The feeling of two hands wrapping around each ankle has you screaming, thrashing about as you're dragged back towards the grave. The male flips you around, unable to hear his broken pleas over the sound of your own shrieks. You keep your eyes focused on the storm clouds above your heads, desperate for some kind of distraction. You wouldn’t look at him, you couldn’t.
This wasn’t your Eddie.
A dirty hand grips onto your chin, tilting your head down as he wedges his body between your thighs. Forcing you to face him, his dark eyes ablaze with fury— a sharp contrast to the way he gently cradles your jaw.
“I’m not in the mood for games… just get on with it,” you snap, letting your eyes slip shut as you wait for that familiar pain to shoot up your spine and through your skull.
But nothing happens.
You crack an eye open only to find the brunette staring back down at you, confusion coating his features.
“… get on with what, sweetheart?” His voice cracks, the look on his face mirroring his tone.
“Killing me,” you state, as if it were the most obvious answer in the world.
There’s a moment of silence between you before he starts laughing, the booming sound instantly melts your insides. It was something you thought you would never hear again.
“I guess my entrance was very Night of the Living Dead, huh?” He teases with a wide grin as his head dips lower— his drenched curls sticking to your cheek.
When you feel Eddie’s lips connect with the base of your throat, your breath hitches. Heat pools in your middle as he inhales, groaning deeply. The sound vibrates against your skin, sending shockwaves through your system.
“Fuck, I’ve missed you,” he hums, his hands running down the length of your sides. The male grips onto the soaked fabric of your dress, slowly inching it up until his palms are splayed across the tops of your thighs.
“You’re so warm,” he continues, his nose grazing along your collarbone as you grip onto the shoulders of his oversized suit jacket.
“H-How are you here?” You question with a small whine as he lightly nips at your throat, chuckling deeply.
“You brought me here, sweetheart.” His words are spoken reassuringly, but they don’t offer you any comfort.
“So, this is a dream,” there’s no question in your voice, only a trace of melancholy.
But Eddie notices it immediately, his head lifting from the crook of your neck. His dark eyes met yours for a moment, a look of determination flashing through his irises.
“Does this feel like a dream to you, baby?”
Before you can reply, his lips brush against yours. Any worries that this wasn’t real melt away with each press of his mouth on yours. Silencing the fear that this will all disappear the moment you pull apart. The storm rages on as he kisses you with an electricity that rivals the lightning above you.
“Definitely not a dream,” you mumble, earning a soft chuckle from him.
You swallow the sound as you kiss him deeper, his ringed fingers gliding further up your thighs and under your dress. Your own slip underneath the collar of his jacket, sliding it off of his shoulders. Letting the rain soak into his white dress shirt, the fabric clinging to the muscles in his back.
Your hands quickly rake through his hair, tugging on the drenched curls as his mouth trails along your jaw. Continuing lower as he sucks harshly on your skin, enjoying the way your body responds to each press of his lips. A breathy whine spills past your own as his fingers reach the elastic band of your panties.
The tension between you continues to mount as you eagerly drag his mouth back to yours. Eddie’s fingers curl under the waistband, snapping the lace against your skin. You barely register the tearing of that same fabric, too preoccupied with his lips on yours. The clinking of his belt soon follows, aiding him in pushing his slacks down his thighs.
“Please,” you plead, lifting your hips against his. Not wanting to waste another second to have him buried inside you.
The brunette gently shushes you, pulling back for a moment as he rubs the tip of cock through your drenched folds. His pupils dilate as he takes in the way your lips part under his thumb. A shaky breath escapes them as he lines himself up with your entrance.
“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” he coos, caressing your cheek as he guides his hips forward. Slowly slipping into your awaiting heat with a strangled groan, “I’ll take care of you.”
His actions are gentle, as your bodies become reacquainted with each other. Eddie guides your hands above your head, fingers lacing together in the dirt. Your thighs are snug around his hips, desperate to keep him as close as humanly possible.
He rocks his hips into yours at a deep but leisurely pace, letting him savor every moment he spends inside you. As neither of you know what will happen after this is all over, it’s not something you want to think about.
Being here, in this moment, with him is the only thing that mattered to you.
The ferocity of the storm drowns out the cries that leave your lips, much different from the agonized ones you had let out earlier. Everything feels heightened, pleasure coursing through your veins with each stroke of his cock.
There’s a sudden shift in his demeanor as his eyes glaze over with an almost dangerous glint. Similar to that of a predator who had locked eyes on his prey. Your heart rate increases as a deep growl permeates the air. His fingers slip out of yours, instead digging into the soil beside you as his body goes rigid.
The brown of his irises disappear from view as he squeezes them shut, worry beginning to fill your chest. Your hands reach up to cradle his face, feeling how tightly his jaw was clenched underneath your fingertips.
“Eds,” you call softly, but the male remains frozen above you— a statue of Adonis.
He was losing control, ready to slip through your fingers. But you had already lost him once, and you weren't about to let it happen again.
“Stay with me,” you implore, softly pressing your lips against the furrow between his eyes. Brushing the dirt from his cheeks as you continue to trail tender kisses across his face.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” he finally speaks as your lips hover over his, your breath mingling together.
“You won’t,” you promise as your nose nudges against his.
Eddie seems reluctant as he opens his eyes, crimson beginning to bleed into his irises. “But there’s something different…” he trails off, searching for any trace of fear reflecting in your eyes. “I’m different.”
“I don’t care,” you don’t miss a beat, capturing his lips with yours once more.
He moans into your mouth, hands encircling your waist as you lift your hips, encouraging him to thrust deeper inside you. Your tongue slips past his lips, gliding along his front teeth. Coming to a sudden realization as you feel the pointed edge of his canines.
Logically you should feel frightened, but it seems to have the opposite effect on you. Your kisses become frantic as your walls flutter around his shaft, the sensation causing him to moan out your name. The pace of his hips quickens as your nails dig into the drenched dress shirt covering his back.
Your lips separate as you gasp, his cock hitting that spot that has you seeing stars. The both of you falling closer to that precipice with each thrust of his hips. But it’s not quite enough, needing to connect with him on a new level.
Eddie peers down at you in awe as your head falls back, baring your throat to him. “Do it,” you insist, guiding his mouth towards your neck.
You can sense his hesitation, his lips ghosting over your skin instead.
“Please, Eddie,” you beg, his groan vibrating against your throat. “I want you to.”
The sincerity in your tone squashes any doubts still lingering in his head. Allowing his teeth to graze against your tender flesh, testing his resolve.
“I trust you,” is what he needs to hear before he sinks his teeth into your neck.
Your body arches into his chest, trembling as that familiar wave of euphoria crashes over you— pulling you under completely. Eddie drinks from you greedily, continuing to work you through your high as his own steadily approaches.
“Taste so fucking good, sweetheart,” he moans as his teeth detach themselves from your throat.
His tongue darts out, lapping up the blood that begins to trickle down the curve of your neck. The sight of his mark on you is almost enough to send him over the edge. But your pretty whines are the final nail in his coffin, hips stuttering as he fills you with his warmth.
“I love you.”
Those three little words are whispered against your collarbone as the male collapses onto you. A content smile spreads across your face as your fingers card themselves through his curls. The both of you soaking up this moment of bliss for as long as you can.
The rain above your heads has finally slowed to a drizzle, the pitter patter of the droplets matching your heartbeat. You don’t know how long you laid there like this, bodies intertwined on his grave.
But it didn’t matter, as long as it was him you were entangled with.
“I love you too,” you reply a while later, the male humming as he lifts his face from the crook of your neck, crimson smeared across his lips.
A fond look falls over his features as he leans down to kiss you again, the metallic taste of you lingering on his mouth. A thought suddenly occurs to you, causing you to giggle against his lips.
“What’s so funny, sweetness?” He muses, pulling away from you with a raised brow. You tuck a loose curl behind his ear, a teasing smile playing on your lips.
“Just trying to think of how to explain this to Steve.” You watch in amusement as a scowl appears on his face.
“Poor thing is gonna think I was mauled by a wild animal,” you tease, gesturing to the bite mark on your neck.
You see a flash of jealousy in his eyes, a low growl rumbles through his chest as his lips reattach themselves to your throat— causing you to squeal.
“Harrington’s just gonna have to deal with it,” he answered smugly, hugging your body closer to his.
The both of you completely unaware of the looming figure watching you from the tree line.
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tagging some lovelies: @xxbimbobunnyxx @munsonhoneybaby @rowanswriting @voyeurmunson @nailbatanddungeon @vecslut @likedovesinthewnd @lofaewrites
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kuokuana · 2 years ago
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andy-15-07 · 17 days ago
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Café romance
PAIRING:Pedro Pascal x reader
WORD COUNT: 1062 | requests are open (send requests, I will gladly answer them all)
Pedro Pascal Masterlist
request:I was wondering jf you could write one where the reader works at her own cafe like with coffee and stuff and there she meets pedro and she knows who he is (she's 32) and they get along really well and after months they start dating in secret and she knows how some fan girls are and when they are out one night they take pictures and everyone says shes too young and a gold digger and that he deserves someone else especially the actresses he works with and she believes them and ignores him for a while and he comes in her cafe one night when shes closing up and she explaines everything and he comforts her and he wants her to go with him to his premiere of tlou and he comforts her all the way and they debut their relationship there? :)) @kellyxo1
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You flip the “Closed” sign, the last customer of the evening gone, and take a deep breath of rich espresso and warm pastries. Bean & Blossom Café has been yours for two years now,your dream come true at age thirty-two, and every corner still feels infused with possibility. Tomorrow, you’ll open early: fresh croissants, the new lavender-infused latte, and maybe another batch of those almond muffins your regulars can’t get enough of. Tonight, though, you’re alone with the gentle hum of the espresso machine winding down, lights low, the smell of roasted beans still sweet in the air.
A soft jingle from the door startles you. You spin around, wiping your hands on a flour-dusted apron. Pedro Pascal is standing in the doorway, rain-damp hair curling at his collar. He gives you that easy grin you know so well. “Hey,” he says, voice velvety. “Sorry, am I interrupting?”
You force a smile. “Just closing up.” You wave vaguely at the half-emptied café. “What can I get for you? A latte to go?”
He shakes his head, stepping inside. “No,actually, I was wondering if you’d mind some company for a few minutes. I have something to tell you.”
Your heart does that fluttery thing,every time. It’s been months of stolen mornings and secret café-table dates. You’d agreed, when this started, to keep it between the two of you: his world of red carpets and scripts, your world of drip coffee and afternoon book-club meetups. Tonight, though, you sense the air is different.
“Sure,” you say, turning off the grinder and raising the café lights slightly. He slides onto a stool at the counter. Outside, the streetlamps shimmer on wet pavement.
Pedro runs a hand through his hair,handsome even when hesitating. “I know I’ve… I’ve been a bit absent lately. I’m so sorry.” He reaches for your hand. It’s warm, calloused from holding scripts and coffee cups alike. “I just,things have been crazy. Press, fan reactions, the show’s premiere next week… But that’s not why I came.”
You swallow. “Okay.”
He takes a breath. “You know I care about you, right? I mean, more than I ever thought I could.”
Your pulse pounds. “I know.”
He smiles, relief brightening his features. “I want you to be there when I walk that red carpet. I want you by my side, not hiding in shadows.”
You glance at the door. “Pedro… you know how some people can be. I’ve seen the headlines."
His brow furrows. “What headlines?”
You hesitate, voice low. “Last night when we grabbed dinner,someone snapped photos. Today the internet’s full of comments. They say I’m too young… that I’m just a gold-digger. They say you deserve someone,someone like those actresses you work with.”
His hands tighten on yours. “That’s bullshit. You’re thirty-two,hardly too young. And gold-digger? You’ve built a business, poured your soul into it.”
You look away, whispered: “Sometimes I start to believe it.”
Pedro shakes his head, voice soft but firm. “Don’t. I won’t let them make you doubt yourself.” He stands, stepping around the counter to pull you into a hug. His coat smells like rain and sandalwood. You press your face against his chest and let the tension drain out.
After a moment, he pulls back. “Listen. I know it’s scary. But you and I… we’re worth it.” He pulls out his phone, taps a few times. “Here.” He hands it to you. On the screen is an email invitation: World premiere of The Last of Us, April 13th, Dolby Theatre, Los Angeles. Your name is on it.
You stare. “Pedro… I can’t.”
He cups your face with gentle fingers. “Yes, you can. You will. You’re my date. Officially. I want you next to me when we debut this thing we’ve built together,both the show, and us.”
Tears prick your eyes. “But the noise,people saying I’m using you…”
He shakes his head. “Let them talk. Their words have no power here. This”,he gestures between you,“is real.” He kisses your forehead. “And I’ll be right there, holding your hand, every second.”
The week that follows is a blur of espresso orders and late-night text threads. You rehearse your dresses, plan your hair,low-key elegance, nothing too showy, because this moment isn’t about flashbulbs. It’s about standing beside him, proving that what you have is stronger than gossip. On April 13th, you lock the café at dawn,Bean & Blossom stays closed for the day,and fly to LA.
At the Dolby Theatre, chaos swirls: fans, press, cameras. You feel a tremor of nerves,your café uniform doesn’t prepare you for sequins and stiletto heels,but Pedro finds you in the crowd, his hand warm on your elbow. He leads you inside, around reporters, past fans clutching “We Love Joel & Ellie!” signs. His arm loops through yours, and your heart thrums like a freshly pulled espresso shot.
A firestorm of camera flashes erupts. Flash, click,flash, click. You draw in a steadying breath, smiling into the sea of lenses. Pedro leans in, murmuring, “You look incredible.” You believe him. In that moment, every cruel comment, every slanderous tweet, melts away. You’re not a gold-digger. You’re someone he loves, someone who loves him back. Someone who met him over a cappuccino and stayed for the quiet moments.
They call your names: “Pedro Pascal and… Y/N!” Your dress shimmers under the lights as you step onto the red carpet. Reporters shout questions, but Pedro answers for both of you. “She’s the reason I’ve been smiling so much these last few months.” He draws you close. You beam, tucking your hand into his. A perfect picture of unity.
Backstage, after the chaos, Pedro sweeps you up in a breathless embrace. “We did it,” he whispers. “Together.”
You laugh, tears slipping free. “Together.”
He tips your chin, meets your eyes. “Now, come”,he flicks his gaze toward the stage,“let’s enjoy the show.”
Later, when you’re seated in plush velvet seats, the lights dim, and the familiar opening chords of The Last of Us score fill the hall, you rest your head against his shoulder. This is more than a premiere. It’s the beginning of something new: your partnership, unbroken by rumors, forged in coffee steam and spotlight. You squeeze his hand as the screen fades to black, and for the first time in a long time, the world outside feels perfectly still,because right here, next to him, is where you belong.
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missnightshade · 5 months ago
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❝ REMAIN ❞ 
Agatha Harkness x Reader
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Request? Yes!
Summary: Agatha comes and goes in fear of hurting her loved one. Could she learn how to love without pain?
Warnings: Hurt/Comfort i guess. English not being my first language.
Word count: 1.4K!
          
  “Where there’s truth there’s bound to be pain. People get older, but some things don’t change.” 
A force of nature, her way of coming and going was just as violent as the wind. Her love, as weird as it may be, poured down like a summer rain. It lifted the burden and, yet, echoed into the warmth of a silent day.  
Agatha was, to put it in other words, hard to love. Not that loving her came in hard. It was, actually, the easiest thing you’ve felt in your life. Even since the first smile, scrutinous so, your skin only knew how to touch hers. It wasn’t only carnal, at all. At times, the centuries old witch would appear out of nowhere with a softness to her eyes that could only be seen as longing. She missed you, told you that herself. Yet, after two or three days, she would go. Disappear into her world of mischief and secrets that you weren’t allowed to enter.  
But still, your longed for her every day till she came back. With the same open heart. With the same smell and heat that welcomed her for as long as she wanted to stay.  
It could be hurtful for someone less understanding. Someone whose life was a burden itself. Even with the number of issues anybody could have, she was the solemn reason why nothing could ever get to you. Her love protected, healed.  
And that was something she could never see.  
You’ve noticed this once when she was back at your house after the longest she had been away. Three weeks. Almost a month and your worried face as you welcomed her was the one thing she promised herself not to see again. As you settled on your couch after a homesick meal (that one dish of yours she could never get sick of), she gently ran her slender fingers against your lighter hair, twisting the locks around her index before letting it go and restarting it again.
“What is going on in that pretty head of yours?” 
Her eyes roamed your relaxed face. Something unreadable passed between her eyebrows and you eyed her calmly.  
Agatha laughed ever so slightly, shaking her head dismissively, but still providing some sort of answer.  
“Just how pretty you are...” she paused, pursing her lips in a straight line, like there was something really bothering her core. Something only the vulnerability of so much time apart from you could make her feel. “It’s honestly a shame how...how I am breaking you to bits.” 
Her words took a while to sink in. Brows frowned, you kept your head in its place on her lap, not daring to leave. That idea, for the first time, became palpable, and absurd.  
“Breaking me?” you questioned, the genuine confusion settling down. Agatha was the best thing of your life. “You think you’re breaking me?” 
As she looked down at you, something flashed again. Like the moment passed, burried itself deep within her. Like she’d said more than enough, and nothing more came out of her mouth instead of loud moans of your name at night and general praises during the next morning before she disappeared again.  
That was too many weeks before. And just like the last time, Agatha Harkness seemed to be on her personal mission to make your encounters more and more rare. Three weeks from the last time were nothing compared to the now one month and two days without as much as a word.  
Your last proper conversation lingered in your head the whole time. Even away, it was always like that. Agatha would consume every living second of your existence, but this time, with the confession lingering a bit louder than her voice and her warmth. It was as if this time, your heart was ensuring you would remember the reason if she never appeared again.  
The thoughts were wild, careless, hurtful for the days to come after that. Time, itself, didn’t make it easier. But when the third day into the second month without her came, the sound of her footsteps behind your seated form infront of the fireplace echoed against the soft rum of Christian Kuria singing in the same melody as the embers that danced just there, reflecting light in your eyes. She always smelled the same, but the stablished winter and the snow that coated her dark hair made her smell a bit woodier. Glancing back above your shoulder, her blue eyes glistened down at you with unshed tears. Your eyes lowered and even with your smile, she knew that what she was about to say would, indeed, break you once and for all.  
“You didn’t come for the usual.” you started, glancing back at the fireplace. Slowly, Agatha lowered herself to the floor, siting by your side with no intention to stay for much longer. A moment passed, Harkness tried to gather her thoughts, but it felt harder with you right there. “Just...tell me. Was it worth it? Did I make you even just a tiny – little bit happy?” 
Your gaze fell on her. Agatha felt her heart squeeze, twist, turn. Love for her was never fair. Never painless. And yet, all the pain she had ever felt with you was now, caused by her own fears and wicked concepts of life. For her, she was evil. A dark force that was bound to corrupt you. 
“I can’t stay, love. I wish I could but...I am not the person you think I am. I am not capable of this. Of loving you the way you deserve.” 
You gave her a look, but took a moment to think of what she meant.  
“You think I don’t know who you are, Agatha?” you asked, and for a split second, she fell mute to your intense eyes and the strength you held without even trying. “I’ve known you for the moment we met. Witch killer. The succubus witch. Many bodies on your bag. But none of that ever made me love you less. Or be mistaken by the haziness of your past. I chose to see you. Who you are to me.” 
“People don’t change like this, darling. Not even with the most deserving person by their side. I’ll hurt you...” 
Your body moved a bit, turning to her for the first time. There was no intention of touching her like all the times one of your needed comfort.  
“You have been coming and going for years. This house, my soul, are embedded with you. Every moment. Every laugh. I never asked for this, but my life has become ours. And any other person would be fuming at your right now. Crying, screaming. But I’m here, just trying to make you understand that life is hurtful. Wherever there’s truthfulness, openness, there’s bound to be even a bit of pain. You are feeling it right now. I can see it...” you scooted closer and touched her face, thumb gently reaching to caress under her eye, where a stray tear scaped as she closed it. “But I trust you, Agatha. I trust that you love me even with no word said. And I trust that even with the things you have done, even with the person that you are outside our sacred space... You’ll care for me.” 
“Darling...” she tried, but her voice cracked, horse and emotional. For the first time, Agatha cried. Fully.  
“You know I'm right. Deep down, you know it.” carefully, your forehead touched hers. She held you closer, as if letting go would break her too. “You are doing it right now, aren’t you? Trying to protect me from you. But let me tell you, my love...I don’t need protection from you. Whatever happens, i trust you. I will remain.” 
Agatha’s nails dig into your wrist as you held her face. Eyes opening to meet yours, a sparkle felt too hopeful to contain. Agatha knew she could never change who she was. And love, more times than not, tried to forcedly tame her. But not you. You held all her complexity between your palms, and loved it all. Maybe that was why she feared this. Tearing you apart. But as she let your words consume her, her shoulders fell, her lips gently pecked yours and she sniffled. Tamed. She was tamed. But not the way she feared to be.  
She would hurt anyone to keep you safe. To keep you with her.  
“Don’t go.” you simply asked as she pulled you in, adjusting your body flushed to hers on her lap.  
“I won’t, Darling.” she kissed your hair, hugging you close before whispering like a secret she was ready to share. “I love you.” 
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ziaxkawaii · 7 months ago
Text
The Creator needs help
I claim to know s*it about canon genshin impact Teyvat lore or how things work in it. I just wrote something that was on my mind at 2 AM.
~~~~
Teyvat was crying...
No, it wasn't any ordinary rainy day no.
Not only was water falling down from the skies above in the form of tears, hail and snow also came down along with powerful winds in places that rouse concern in humanity and other forms of life alike. 
Thin layers of snow covered parts of the smeltering deserts of sumeru, rain poured down in forever freezing shnesnaya, pillars of ice formed in the waterfalls of watatsumi island in inazuma and such other incidents wreaked havoc all around the land of Teyvat. 
These disasters drove away almost all creatures of nature into hiding and cursed all yields to be near nonexistent due to the extreme conditions, leading to a landwide food shortage and miserable people. Even vision holders report feeling less elemental energy from their visions than before.
Mr. Zhongli, or formerly known as Morax or Rex Lapis, sat at Third-Round Knockout on a rare good day drinking tea as he  watched the dark clouds over the sea creep closer to Liyue Harbor. He sighs, as he already figures that the weather would one again cut his visit short.
Just as he brought this tea cup to his lips to take another sip, his surroundings changed. He was no longer drinking tea he was standing inside a domain of sorts. Where ever he looked, he couldn't see an end to the limitless space.
He wasn't alone though, six others, who he realized were the other archons and people of the highest authority of each nation, were here as well. And from the looks of things, they were just as perplexed as he was.
Since all of them were brought here, it could only mean, a being higher than them have summoned them for a purpose.
"Be not afraid."
A voice spoke, which drew everyone's attention to them.
A figure floated by their lonesome in place with a calm and understanding expression as they gestured at the seven of them. The figure was like a glowing humanoid lamp, glowing brightly with no distinguishable features whatsoever, except a horizontal golden line at their throat that seemed to extend all the way around their neck.
As if their head had been cleanly sliced off...
Wait... He recognized such featured being described somewhere. An ancient parchment that spoke of a deity that was the purest and highest being in all of Teyvat. A being whose purity was reflected on how others would perceive them, for they lost their real body and a line as tough drawn with gold wrapping around their neck symbolizing their sacrifice to the life on Teyvat.
That being being the Creator...
The moment Zhongli realized who was talking to them, he sank down on one knee. Others following suit as they too realized the same thing as he did.
"Be not afraid... I am not here to neither cast judgement nor punishment." Their voice spoke, as though it was coming from everywhere at one. From behind the seven, from above, from inside their craniums. It would of felt almost overwhelming, had they been afraid, but none were.
"Your excellency... why have you summoned us to appear in your presence, if not for a punishment?" Zhongli hears one of the seven ask, as the same question runs in his head.
That was an excellent question. Though many of the Archons have done everything in their power to fulfill their duties as assigned, their disastrous and war filled past and even current lives, leave no room to doubt they too were not above desire.
The same desire that plaques Teyvat and every other being on it. Driving them to satisfy their own desires
to survive
to live
to build
to control
to destroy...
The Archons carry their sins for they are forbidden to forget them, it would be shameful to do so.
What reason are they here?
"My children... heed my words, for I am afraid time is running out." The creator spoke, their hands gently clenched in front of them, without a single waver in their tone as they continued.
"I was afraid that the day when the balance of Teyvat would be disrupted would come, but the severity of this disruption is far too severe. I can no longer watch as the creations I gifted life needlessly suffer." They floated closer to the kneeling seven as they pleaded.
"I beg of you my children, help end this misery that plaques Teyvat."
The Creators plead rang in their ears as giant bells as they looked up at their Creator, heads full of questions.
The Creator requests their assistance?
"Your grace, we do not know the causes of the anomalies on Teyvat, therefore we are powerless to help even our own nations. What can we possibly do to help?" Another Archons spoke.
"To understand our current obstacle, you must understand how Teyvat came to be." They spoke as, with a flick of their wrist, a mist like substance filled the surrounding space. Creating images aiding the Creators storytelling.
"As you are already aware, I, the Creator, was born of and egg and used the shell of said egg to create Teyvat, but that is not all." The Archons watched intently as images formed before their eyes one after another, telling a history never told before.
"After I was born, I wandered among the stars, awaiting for a purpose for my own creation. As time passed, a sudden desire willed me to use my given power for something, so I returned to my first ever home and used it's eggshell to house a new world in another galaxy.
I shed tears to form the seas, I took pieces of my body to create land, I blew air to form the atmosphere... I lent the sun and the moon to occupy the new lands lonely existence...
however... I wasn't satisfied...
what use does a world offer if no one is there to appreciate its beauty?"
The loyal Archons remained on their knees, listening to the tale of creation and birth of the land they call home. Seems as though even the most purest of beings in Teyvat cannot escape the curse of desire.
"So with the last of my strength, I gave up one of my hearts and divided it to millions and millions of pieces and scattered them all around the land and sea to form life. Life capable of growth, capable of feeling emotions and capable of death on the world I call Teyvat.
As a final gift, I gave up a fraction of my power and formed the seven elements. To make sure these gifts are not used wrongfully, I also created Celestia to act as guardians of Teyvat, the elemental energy and its happenings."
Zhongli stood silent in fascination of the history told. Their Creator really was just as benevolent as described in the ancient parchment he read oh so long ago. Even if their intention for Celestia was different from how things currently stand, they were thinking about their creations' well being. How could he disrespect his own creator so severely as to forget them? How could he?
"However...." The Creator continued.
"Just as I basked in relief and excitement of having created something that would have a life of its own... it caught the eye of another deity."
"They were envious of one of their own giving their body and attention to another, and so, they were going to curse the newborn world, which I could not let happen. I sliced off my own head as a distraction but the spell ended up landing on and affecting my own soulless mind and body, leading me to temporarily forget myself and my creation.
After the battle, my body and severed head fell into Teyvat, leaving behind the deity to grieve for hurting a fellow god.
My body collided with the earth while my head went missing, both staying unmoving, for I had no way to control them nor any memory to guide me on what to do. I felt as eons of life cycles passed before me, ground slowly swallowing my body and breaking it down, making me one with my creation." 
The sudden realization hit Zhongli harder than any of his meteorites. All along, the Creator has been among them. They were no spectator above Teyvat or a god who had abandoned them after their duty had concluded, no. They were there... they are...
"Yes, my children... I am Teyvat, and Teyvat is me."
Zhongli was taken aback as their Creator had read through his entire inner battle inside his mind. Now that he was aware of Teyvat's major historical event, he can finally start to string pieces together and think why Teyvat now experiences such instability. 
"Your eminence, since your body is apart of Teyvat itself, does the weather, soil and even elemental energy have anything to do with your physical well being?" Another Archon spoke and all tuned in to hear the Creator.
"I certainly does... Even if my body is no longer, most concentrated amounts of my being and the energy inside still lie beneath the ground, instinctively healing Teyvat and the ley lines from major damage, effectively enabling Teyvat and the elemental energy to remain balanced and flourish. 
However, lately the level of corruption in the ley lines and the amount of abnormal elemental energy surges have risen greatly, leading my "body" to panic and repel the added strain, therefore leading Teyvat becoming unstable." The creator hugged themselves as they explained and all of us understood the current issue and the gravity of it.
The creators physical body is what had been keeping Teyvat and its energy in line even when the Archons, gods and Celestia had abused it, but know that the last nail has been hammered, the creators body is no longer instinctually healing it and the Celestia is not stepping up to the task that was theirs to begin with.
"Your grace, just say the word and we are at your disposal. What can we do to help?" Zhongli himself spoke, voice even and calm for he had his full faith in his creator.
"You need to find my long lost head and bring it over to my bodys remains. Only then, can I reawaken and consciously put a stop to all of this, for in my current state I am a mere piece of your imagination laced with a voice." The creator explained, as though to prove their point, Their voice now sounded from inside their head as they floated higher and addressed the seven once more with a formal order and open arms.
"Please, find my body and bring my head over to it so I can awaken and help put a stop to this disaster! Let my mind be once again one with my body so balance may be restored, and the curse be lifted!"
Zhongli blinked and everything was just as it was before getting pulled into the domain to meet the creator. The tea he was going to savour previously, was still in his hand, steaming, as though no time had gone by at all. He however knew what had transpired mere second ago, was no daydream or a hallucination, his creator had really summoned him and requested his assistance.
With no more interest in the tea, Zhongli set the unfinished cup down while rising from his seat and began making his way out of Liyue harbor, with a newly acquired goal occupying his mind and shoulders.
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