#Just crying in the tags pathetically waiting for anything to happen

[sonofshu]

‎ ‎

[thehusbandoden]

He Doesn't Realize How Much he Needs You Until You're Gone Part One- Dabi

A/n: 100th writing I've posted :3

I hope you like it haha.

General info:

Genre: pure angst \\ wc: 2,425 \\ female reader \\ posted: 06/06/24

Warnings!: arguing, neglect, pure angst, crying, yelling, screaming, hurt, feeling betrayed, injuries (reader gets burned- not by Dabi), pushing your partner away (both parties), feeling worthless, feelings being discarded, mention of therapy, thoughts of leaving, thoughts of death, fear of a loved one dying, numbing your emotions, Dabi raging (burning things), leaving, partner being very tsundere, mention of blood (Dabi's tears), regret, guilt, becoming a husk, I think that's all haha. Pls lmk if I miss anything! <33

I will post two endings, one with angst and one with fluff. Lmk if you want to be tagged!

Tears roll down your cheeks as you spam Dabi with texts. You had just gotten into an argument with your beloved when he stormed out, cursing you out.

"Please." You quietly plead, your voice broken with sobs. "Don't leave me."

All of your texts remain unread. All your calls declined. You were having a panic attack by now, yet nothing seemed to get the villain's attention.

Just as you're about to completely lose it, you hear footsteps. Your freeze, listening with an indescribable intensity. The window opens. Your eyes dart to the activity.

Familiar black combat boots peek through the gap, falling to the floor. Your eyes travel up the familiar torn jeans, the worn out t-shirt, the burned neck, the crooked frown, and finally to the comforting turquoise eyes.

You let out a sob of relief as you see your Dabi standing in front of you. He looks down at you, grimacing.

"What happened to you?" He scoffed.

"I-I was worried." Your voice was hoarse and broken from your sobs.

"Worried?" He grunts. "You're more idiotic than I thought." He groans, grabbing the sandwich you made before the argument.

"I-I thought you were leaving me."

"I'm not gonna leave ya. No matter how annoying you are." He scoffs.

Annoying....

Your mind repeats the word several times, your face stiffening as you numb your emotions.

"Sorry..." you mumble.

"Don't start that pouty crap." He scoffs, shooting you a glare. "I'm tired of you being such a bother. I have so much to deal with. Your pathetic emotions isn't on my list."

You quietly fold your arms, moving to the couch. You watch Dabi silently, taking deep breaths to contain your emotions.

"I'm leaving for a mission tonight. I'll be back before next week."

His voice was less harsh, but nowhere near as warm as usual.

"O-okay.." you mumble, fidgeting with your sleeves. He rolls his eyes with a scoff, stomping into your shared bedroom.

~~

"I'm leaving now, brat."

You scramble to your feet, swiftly moving to his side. You lean up, hoping for a kiss as you ever so slightly pucker your lips.

You know your husband. He will notice... won't he?

His cold eyes move down to your lips. He grunts, turning around and leaving. "See ya later, brat. Don't be pouting when I get home, you hear?" He mutters, hauling himself through the window.

He always came in and out through the back window... it would be bad if your neighbors caught a highly wanted villain in your apartment.. hence the sneaking.

You've lived together for over a year now, you've moved four times now.

"Wait-" you call out, reaching out to your husband. His cold gaze burns into you.

"Um- a-aren't you going to... going to.."

"Spit it out, woman."

"Aren't you going to.. kiss me?" You blush. Dabi scoffs.

"Don't expect needles privileges after your attitude yesterday."

"Attitude?! Do you mean our argument?" You protest.

"Here it goes again." He groans. "You're always complaining and refusing to take accountability."

"Thats nonsense." You clench your fists, trying to suppress your emotions. Tears burned your eyes, but you refused to let them shed.

"What's nonsense is your attitude. You can't even keep me around now can ya? Your attitude always drives me off! I wonder why I ever married you in the first place. You give me attitude and then act like I'm the victim. Pathetic."

Tears well in your eyes. You bite your lip. "I won't ask for anymore from you." You whisper.

"Good. Keep it that way." He lands outside, shrugging his shoulder before walking off with an nonchalant attitude.

You close the window, leaning against the wall as you try to slow down your breathing. Tears fall down your cheeks as you curl in a ball, feeling hurt, angry, betrayed, and worthless.

The days pass by as you wait for Dabi to return. You didn't hear from him, and he was gone far longer than he said he would be. Every text was left unread, every call ignored, every voice-mail left un-listened to.

Eventually, you stopped trying. You got a therapist, and ended up deciding on what was best for you. When he comes home, if he doesn't treat you better, if he doesn't even listen or try to change, its better for you to leave. Even if it was just for a little bit.

Days turn into weeks, and weeks blur into months. Many nights you lay awake, doubting yourself. Doubting your worth.

It killed you inside. Your self esteem plummeted. You stopped going to therapy. All you wanted was your husband. Your husband's love, his validation, his touch, his mere presence.

Curled in a ball, you stared at the wall with a blank expression. Horrid scenarios went through your head as you imagine your poor husband alone, injured, and dying.

Tears blur your vision as you imagine him already dead, his loving soul leaving this world without even telling you goodbye. You hadn't even gotten a kiss. Or an I love you.

The tears don't stop. And they didn't as the hours slowly pass by. You felt like ripping your hair out, screaming, hitting, throwing things- anything to get your mind off of your husband's doomed death.

The window opens. Your eyes dart towards the unlocked glass pane. Combat boots pokes through. You gasp in relief.

A worn, exhausted, injured, and in pain figure follows the boots. Revealing your beloved, Dabi. You let out a small sob, launching yourself at him.

You close your eyes in relief as you feel his warm chest, the familiar staples bringing you comfort. As you move to open your eyes you feel a hand to your shoulder, your backside hitting the floor.

You look up in shock, Dabi looking down at you in disgust.

"I thought you said you wouldn't ask anymore from me." He scoffed. You grab your arm, holding it to your chest.

"I-" you start.

"I really don't want to hear it. Just let me rest." He groans. You slowly lift yourself off of the floor, silently moving into your shared bedroom.

You curl in a ball, hiding under the sheets. You hear him walking around outside of the room, silently listening. Tears blur your vision once more. You cover your mouth, tightly closing your eyes.

You shake with sobs, doing your very best to stay quiet. You can't help but feel worthless. Tears stream down your cheeks as you listen to your husband's familiar footsteps, glad he's safe at the minimum...

Hours pass by as you cry yourself to sleep, your stray tears staining your cheeks.

~~

Dabi's POV

Dabi strolls into your shared bedroom. "Oi, make me a sandwich will ya?" He grunts. Yiu don't move, irritating him.

He moves to your side, snatching the blanket. "I said-" he stops as he sees you asleep, tears stained on your cheeks. A strange pain dtabs at his chest. Shaking it off, he drops the blanket.

Staring at you, he gently cups your cheek, pressing his lips to yours in a gentle kiss. He pulls away, caressing your cheek. "I've missed you. Even though you're a pain." He whispers before pulling away.

~~

Your POV

The next morning

You blink open your eyes, rubbing at the lingering sleepiness. Yawning, your eyes lazily run over the room. The curtains were hiding the small bedroom from sunlight, the entire room encompassed in darkness.

Sitting up, you rub your puffy eyes once more. Dabi was no where near sight. Sighing, you absent-mindedly trace the bruise on your arm where you fell.

Your heart aches as you remember your therapist's words. This isn't healthy. It needs to stop...

The door opens, revealing Dabi. "Finally awake, sleepy head?" His voice wasn't the cold growl like last night, but it was no where near gentle.

You nod, timidly. Afraid of upsetting him once more.

"I'm starving. Want to make breakfas..?" This was his way of asking you to. If you agreed, there would be no thank you, for you "wanted" to.

If you said no, he would be irritated for a while. He won't cook, no matter how many times you beg him to while you're away, so he will oftenly go without eating if you're unavailable or refuse to cook.

Biting your lip, you nod. He gives you a short grimace, something similar to a small smile before walking out. Standing up, you yawn, stretching your arms. Your eyes ache from all the crying, but you push that to the back of your mind.

You walk out to the kitchen, beginning to cook. You feel Dabi's eyes on you, but you don't pay much attention. You were guarded, unsure why he's acting so differently this morning. Cautious of unleashing the monster once more.

"Dabi?" You murmur. He grunts in response.

"I talked to a therapist when you were on your mission..."

"A therapist? What for? Did you leak my identity?!" He snaps.

"No, I didn't. I was really struggling for a while and needed someone to help me."

"So you relied on a stranger?!"

"You wouldn't answer. I called, texted, I left voice-mails."

"Oh so you think that your crappy attempt to get my attention justifies getting help from a stranger!? Was he a guy?! Were you sleeping with him?!"

"What?! No! I would never!"

"Then what were you doing with them?!"

"I was getting help for my mental state, Dabi!"

"Oh poor baby, you think being lonely justifies that?!"

"You're being unreasonable. Dabi she told me it was best for me to leave you if you keep treating me like this. I'm telling you this so you can wake up and change. This isn't okay." You snap, taking a deep breath to calm yourself.

"Leave me?!" He laughs. "You wouldn't. You can't live without me."

"You've been making me live without you for months, Dabi. You don't tell me you love me, you don't show me affection, I'm lucky just to have you not yell at me!"

"You're being dramatic." He spits. "You're a spoiled brat. I've been working my arse off for you and you're this ungrateful."

"You've been working for revenge! It's not for me, it never was! I have my own job that pays for all or our bills Dabi!"

"You're listening to a stranger's advice and plan on leaving me?!"

"Only if you don't change Dabi!"

"You knew what you were getting into when you married me, y/n. Stop playing the victim."

"You didn't treat me like this when we first married."

"Keep telling yourself that." He spits, putting his jacket on.

"Where are you going?!" You cry, the food far from recovery, you hazardously shove the pan into the sink, burning your hand. You cry out in pain.

"Y/n!" Dabi yells, hurrying your side. He aggressively graps your hand, making you cry out once more. "Idiot! Why did you hurt yourself like that?!"

"Just leave me alone!" You try to yank your hand away but Dabi yanks it back.

"Stay still!"

"Let me go Dabi!"

"Y/n just sit still!!"

You push him back, protectively pressing your injured hand to your chest. "I said to let me go!"

Dabi's face scrunches up as he looks down at you. After a few silent moments he turns away. "I'm over you and your dramatic act." He mumbled.

Walking to the door, he pulls his combat boots on. "Don't leave!" You cry, coddling your burning hand.

He ignores you, moving to the window. "Dabi! If you leave without us finishing this I'm leaving."

"Go for it. I don't need you. I never did." He sneered.

Your heart throbbed as your beloved husband jumped through the open window, not looking back. Falling to your knees you break into sobs.

You cry over the absence of your beloved, you cry over the pain, and you cry over the dreaded feeling of being completely alone.

You don't stop for hours. It goes on and on until your completely out of tears, numb to the feeling of utter loss. Your hand aches. Your eyes aches. Your heart aches.

It all just- hurts.

You slowly drift to sleep, the cold kitchen floor being the only thing that grounds you from the pain of betrayal.

~~

Dabi's POV

Three days later.

Dropping from the window Dabi nonchalantly glances around the room. It seemed unusually cold an empty. Paying it no mind, Dabi hazardly tossed his jacket and boots towards the front door.

"Y/n, I'm home." He calls, running his hands through his greasy hair, his roots were growing out. Rolling his eyes, he opens the fridge. It was... empty.

"Y/n!" He calls once more, huffing in annoyance. "I get home and can't even eat?!"

No response. "For Pete's sake you petty brat! Get out here!"

Silence.

Anger fills his being before he remembers your words before he left. A strange pain shoots through him, his eyes widen as he runs into your shared bedroom. Everything of yours was... gone.

His heart quickens as he searches the entire house for you. Nothing. Not even a trace. His breathing quickens as he pulls at his hair. Taking a shuddering breathe, he shakes his head.

"You'll regret this y/n... you'll be back and I'll laugh in your face!" He chuckles, losing a bit of his sanity. "I DON'T NEED YOU! YOU'LL SEE!" He screams, activating his quirk as he knocks over a chair. He let's out a scream, lighting anything and everything in sight on fire.

Months pass by. Dabi has turned into a shell, simply surviving. Work, sleep, work, sleep, work... a "good" day is when he remembers to eat or drink. A shower or change of clothes is out of mind.

Walking through the streets, he walks inside the charred apartment. Stepping inside, he closes the door. He doesn't care about his identity anymore, or anything really.

His turquoise eyes scan the apartment, his eyes landing on a photo of you and him. His heart strangely aches once more. "Y/n..." he murmured, his fists clenching.

Falling to his knees, he lets out a broken sob. His eyes burn, tears would be running if they could. Blood drips from his charred tear ducts. He falls to the floor face first, nothing but his beloved wife on his mind.

How could he be so stupid?! How could he be so utterly retarted?! He lost the one thing in this world that actually loved him. Grasping his phone, he dials your number.

Please. Please pick up... please... I need you...

~~~~~

Part two (coming soon) | alt. ending (coming soon) lmk if you want to be tagged!! <33

Dabi's masterlist | Masterlist | Navigation | Tips<3

Reblogs make me smile (bonus points if you tag) and comments make my day!!

~~~~~

Do not copy, repost, nor plagiarize my work. Ask before you translate or use my work in any way, minus reblogging. 

[gremlingottoosilly]

The Horror and The Wild (emperor!Konig x fem!Reader)

A day after you and Konig's wedding. Who knew that evil emperors could be so romantic. Tags and TWs: Dub-con, aphrodisiacs, power imbalance, breeding kink, size difference, loss of virginity, age difference(Konig in his forties, Reader in her twenties), medieval/fantasy AU, Konig is a pervert AND an evil dictator Word count: 3256 AO3

— Lift your hips up, princess. You don’t want to waste my seed. 

You whimper, trying to get your legs down, so he can’t force you to spread them anymore – but you feel the hot seed getting back in the swell of your well-used maidenhood, and it makes you whimper only more. What a woeful sight indeed – a fake princess crying over having to take the seed of the strongest person in the whole continent. You know a thousand of women who would beg for an opportunity to have the Emperor’s hands on their hips, guiding them down to admire the look. You know that the real princess – your princess – would never agree to this ordeal, no matter the begging and the bribery. So, you don’t agree too. — In m…my culture, a bride should wait at least a month after the marriage before the…conception, Your Majesty. 

You lie through gritted teeth like it could change anything. Like it could magically force all the seed from your womb to the ground again, to the silk of the sheets under you. Like the mere tradition that you gave birth to the idea of a minute ago would stop you from being König’s breeding mare. Still, you refuse to lift your hips, a small resistance that puts a small chuckle to his lips. He is amused by you – or your stupidity. Princesses are supposed to be spoiled and bratty, right? Yours certainly was. 

— Does your culture also make the bride lie to her husband? 

You lick your lips, forcing them closed. No another quick witty word from you – your lies already got you on the edge of…something. After König announced he knew who you were this entire time, he got you on your back, on your belly, with your hips up and down, your head silly from lack of air as he choked you until you begged for your life – only for him to kiss you over and over. Feeding your womb with his seed until there was a bump, not giving any chance that the baby wasn’t there yet. If anything, he conquered your body the same way he did your country – and left your bruised hips as a reminder. The handprinted bruises covering your skin like the finest fabrics of the gown he got you. 

— If you wish to order me dead, your majesty. 

— Death doesn’t mean anything here, meine Liebe. 

— Then banish me. For the lies and the betrayal of a royal…

He laughs – it’s a nice sound, still, something in your deprived mind likes the way you make him laugh and chuckle. Something in your head makes you feel as dizzy as you did when he cut off the air in your throat, every time that cold eyes of his look at you with warmth. heated obsession, whatever that is – you refuse to believe it was genuine, as you were borrowing your princess’s identity, but now, when he laughed and spoke about his true intentions, you weren’t sure if a pathetic and lowly lady-in-waiting is as safe in you as you thought.

— If being as stupid as you are is a punishable crime, then I’d finalyl have a good reason to kill off most of my harem. He laughs again, a hand in your hair – getting out all of the fancy pins and bows and dead flowers that were forced to be held in your crown and on your head. You groan in pleasure as the pins scraping your scalp are finally removed – and try to get back at his hand immediately when he comes to squeeze your breasts again. Not for any reason – simply because you happened to have the aspects of your body that he could touch. 

— Would be much safer to get a woman from a harem, sir. Not…not me. 

— And if I wanted just you? 

König looks at you – trembling, loved out completely. Covered in his marks, as many bites as a princess could take. Even being a servant, you’re almost as gentle and reserved as a real deal – but gods, if you weren’t the cutest thing he ever saw in that damned ugly country of yours. Hating nobility as much as he hated speaking to his troops not as their commander, König never particularly enjoyed the idea of having to marry some bitchy royal daughter…you, however, were the loophole in the god’s contract. A gift, just for him. 

— Your council would make me disappear for deceiving you in the first place. 

— No one would dare to leave the empire without heirs. 

— You could have another one. There are plenty of princesses out there, Your Highness. 

— And I don’t have enough patience to entertain you trying to sell me the idea of your freedom. Do you know what relief I felt when you were the one to meet me? 

You don’t answer, instead prompting to just listen. You have good ears for listening – for allowing others to talk, so you wouldn’t be made to fill in awkward silences. König loves that and appreciates that. Finally, someone who can just be silent – even if he also has nothing to say, at least you’re scared and angry enough to dismiss him anyway. At least your unwillingness is making him less awkward at participating in the conversation. 

— You knew who I was all along? 

— Princesses are pampered. Even the poorest kingdom would never have a princess with hands as hard-working as yours, Schatz. 

He takes his hands in yours – no matter the healing creams you rubbed in them, no matter the lack of actual physical labor, even the smallest tasks you performed for the princess, the tiniest exposure to cleaning supplies that would make the toughest skin crack, left a small traces in the skin of your palm. Fingers with clean nails – short, practical, indicating the need to have your hands in working order all of the time. Indicating your lack of a servant who would do everything – opening buttons on clothes, embroidery, and washing oneself’s body. indicating that you were said servant. 

You look embarrassed that he pointed that out. Scared, almost. 

— Are my hands too ugly for you, sir? 

He can see the tremble in your fingers. He traces them with his – large, calloused hands keeping you in place. Rough skin and multiple ridges of scars over the darkened skin made you shiver from the contrast of the sensation – those are the hands of a ruler who isn’t afraid of taking a sword in his hands. Who almost got his arms chopped off for this altogether. 

Then – he kisses them. 

One finger at a time, every ridge and bump in your skin deserves a graze of emperor’s teeth as he tugs on rough skin around your knuckles. Your hands are soft, softer than a normal maid would have – but changed from the work you had to put. Every kiss and lick doesn’t make them gentle, doesn’t remove the experience you had – in braiding hair, in washing clothes, in cleaning up after a royal mess. It doesn’t change who you were, but with every little praise he whispers – crude language, really, but the affection in his words scares you more than any foreign insult could – with every toss of his lips over your palms, he is changing who you are. Who will you become in just a week or two. 

He calls your hands beautiful – in North tongue, with a smile on his face. König loves to explore, and your body is a beautiful place for him to be. Your hands are the best place he could have been in the morning. 

Some historians are already saying he has done more to this country than any other ruler ever could. But oh, the emperor knows that the most important thing he did here was kiss your fingers. Over and over. 

You snap your arms back when he finally breaks down, starting to bite – the softer skin of your palms falling victim to his sharp teeth. Emperors aren’t supposed to have sharp teeth but for all he knows, he was born from a dog and raised by one. A wolf in wolf’s clothing. 

— Your hands belong to an empress. 

— Thought I was a regent. 

— You are, mein Schatz. Can’t trust you with a country, ja? 

You laugh, but there are tears in your eyes. Loss of whatever authority you could have as the princess's personal maid – her friend if he knew anything about royals and their habits. Scheisse, he was the emperor for 10 long years and still didn’t get a hang of it. Might be something he had to be born with – such a shame, really. Should have told his mother to never give birth to a rat that would usurp the throne once out of the crib. 

He loves to see you weak, trembling like this – like a proper bride should. Like a real princess, the one whose manners should be enough to fool the people and the dumbest of his court. The smartest ones could always agree to put their tongues up their behinds – if they don’t want to get their heads chopped off by his blade, without even bothering an executioner to do it. 

— But you can trust me with your children?

— This empire needs an heir. As much as I can rule forever. 

— No one is immortal. 

— Ach. Did Sebastian forget to visit you before the wedding, little princess? 

He is mocking you, again and again – he laughs with death and you hate it, you hate yourself, you loathe him and his laughs and his crooked smile and the scars covering his skin and…he kisses your hands again, then – dips your hands up in that mask of his. Lets you feel the skin, involuntarily trace your fingertips all over everything hidden – you touch his teeth, his fangs, and you gasp in shock. So, the monster has lips. So, the monster has thin lips and wet mouth, and he dips his tongue all over the traces of knuckles and…

König knows you’d never agree to be his in a way that he wants you too – but this is fine. He can work you around. He can break you. He can please you. What a wonderful job would this be. 

— Your court would soon find out I’m not the one. 

— They know how to keep their mouths shut. You would, however, have to deal with my harem personally. 

— Did you intended to add my princess to your harem too? 

— If I knew that you wouldn’t take her place? Of course. I never visited the place for the exact reason I didn’t bother to find your patron. 

— Are you really satisfied with the scraps? 

Oh, his poor, dumb girl – he was feeding off scraps since he was ripped away from his mom’s tit. You were the only fancy meal he ever liked in his life – and gods, if he wouldn’t give up anything to taste you again. 

On the other side, however, he can do just that. 

König dips his head down, the traces of his hood laying on your labia. You whimper. 

— I never ate anything as exquisite as you, little princess. 

— I’m n…why do you keep calling me this? 

— You will be my princess. Forever trapped on my lap, on the floor, chained to my throne like a…

With each word, his tongue laps on the glossiness of your lower lips. He gives your maiden a little kiss all over, he digs down like it’s a fancy meal indeed – the scrawny hairs of his stubble make you whimper every time they graze your clit. König has a fleeting thought of eating his cum out of your poor, sore body – that it wouldn’t be wise, that it would make the process of impregnating you slower. Then, he thinks – he can just fill you up with his seed later. And in the evening. And tomorrow. 

He pushes his tongue down, deep – you gasp, you get your hands on his hood, not trying to tear it apart, but laying there like a scared maiden. You were one – you are one, after all. Gods, he could just keep you here forever if it weren’t for the country needing its empress. 

König kisses you all over – you’re still smelling like rose water, like fragrances that were forcefully rubbed on your skin right before the wedding. A proper lady, you were bathed in salts and oils like a kitchen in poor man’s soup – but weren’t you looking beautiful in that dress of yours. Too bad he had to rip it eventually, stepping on it accidentally quite a few times as he was getting you water. Your little trick with the herb did make you thirsty in all possible ways. 

You don’t know a lot about royal weddings, but you’re pretty sure that the emperor shouldn’t be sprawled on his giant bed like this, eating you out like you were the roasted lamb served at yesterday’s feast. You moan when the material of his mask is getting tricky with your gentle parts when the rough fabric is scrapping your thighs in a way that is far from arousal – and then he leans in, a head laying on your tummy. Your princess parts are swollen from his actions – and lack thereof. You almost think you could buck your hips up like a… König takes off his hood. 

— Wh…what are y… You don’t master enough words before he is forcing his face against yours before his lips finally lay down on yours properly – and gods isn’t this a beautiful sight. The emperor, the vile conqueror, your biggest enemy, and your husband – smiling like a boy when he got free candy, like a cat who got the cream – like a man so in love, it makes him unable to stop smiling while looking at his wife. 

He isn’t pretty in the sense that some of the rulers can be pretty – he isn’t hideous either. A rough face doesn’t look like something that belongs to a royal family – big nose, small lips, chiseled chin and not a sight of inbreeding. You try to see if his ears are wrong, at least, but they are fine – not caring about a bit of chopped-off bits, probably from old battles. He is rugged and handsome and rough and you hate that red stubble on his chin and his gorgeous ginger hair – if you were forced to see this face every day, you might give up and like him. It’s a good thing he wears the mask most of the time, isn’t it? 

— You don’t like how your emperor looks, little princess? He laughs again, then – cups your face in his hands and kisses you all over. Again and again, his lips fell on yours making you feel dumb, making you feel dizzy and just a bit charmed – like the potion you drank yesterday hadn’t fully worn off. You can taste your own pleasure on his lips and it makes you embarrassed – a proper lady should never enjoy a process as dirty as making love – your lower parts should only exist for him to take pleasure in ruining it, and for you – to birth little princes. 

But König bows down before your lower lips, but König presses his tongue against your special spot again and again, and it makes you wonder if he recites the anthem of the empire on the little swollen bud between your legs – for his actions are filled with devotion that should only be reserved for one’s country, not for just a poor, dumb handmaiden whose only job was to lie and to protect. But…is it really all you want to do now? Just lay here and let him take him, without a chance of enjoying him playing with you if only for just a bit longer? — I…I believe you look fine, Your Majesty. 

— Just fine? 

He smiles and kisses you down there again – the aftermath of your pleasure makes his lips feel too hard on your swollen parts, the climax had taken everything from you left only feelings, as naked and trembling as you are right now – and, by god, if you aren’t feeling like sold and set in pieces. You are selling your dignity right now, the loyalty to your kingdom is getting grazed by each new stroke of his tongue. You close your eyes and moan – for you can’t hold off your pleasure anymore. For you don’t see a reason in trying to pretend you don’t enjoy being treated like a princess after a life of servitude. 

— You are fine for an emperor, my…my husband. You struggle to say it – but you do have to say it eventually, at least in front of the servants. If he isn’t intent on keeping you locked away in a tower, pumping out babies like his little servant – maybe he wouldn’t want to keep you open for the world to take. You were a secluded princess kept in shadows before he discovered you, after all. You served the one, at least. 

— Trying to cover the harsh words with honey, ja? I killed for less, mein Schatz. 

— I assume you won’t kill me before the first son, at least? 

— Wouldn’t kill you even if you’d be barren. I’d rather leave the empire to rot without an heir than choose someone else in your place. 

— That is awful news for your empire. 

— Our empire can rot without you, Meine Liebe. Never wanted the damned crown in the first place. 

— But you’re fine with putting it on the head of a commoner? 

— I was a commoner once. Know better than anyone else that a princess would never make a good wife. 

You never studied his rise to power – the latest politics were hidden from you and the princess, the king never wanted to taint his daughter with such silly things as rising stars of the political arena – and he failed to mention the empire that was once rotting from its head getting a ruler who would take half of the continent and a daughter of every kingdom in his harem as the spoils of war. 

He lays down beside you, taking you in his arms again. his hair flows all around you – he smells like blood, still, even after so many hours spent bathing in your shared musk. You wonder if everything he had done with the forbidden rituals made him like this – face torn and stitched back together again, harsh scars that can only be made from a blade or claws of a giant animal – and he pushes you down to press your face against his chest, taking in the feeling of laying beside your husband. 

— Don’t you have something that needs to be done, Your Highness? 

— The most important thing I need to do is lay between your legs, little princess. And you’re too swollen to be doing that. 

You press your forehead against his chest. Taking it him and the light tan of his skin – you wonder where he could get it, if he almost never took off his armor. His face is as pale as it can be, and it makes him look a little silly when naked – but you refuse to smile and make him angry. — I thought you wanted me to meet your harem. 

— They can wait. We need to give them time to prepare the poison for you, right? 

He laughs and you don’t find anything better to do than to press your head against his chest and close your eyes. The royal visits really can wait until tomorrow.

[eraenaa]

Still Casual?

Part two of Casual

Rafe Cameron x Reader Tag List

Synopsis: You promised yourself that you’re never going to settle for casual ever again— promised yourself you would never be another casualty of Rafe Cameron.

Warnings: ¿Groveling?, Mentions of Substance Use, P in V Sex, Oral Sex (F & M receiving {69}), Very Slight use of Force, Not Proofread 

Word Count: 4,681

It was forthcoming; the warning signs were clear and loud, and red flags were waving, but you ignored them and proceeded without caution. Now, you must reap the consequence of living for the hope of it all. You returned home quickly after seeing such a scene at Rafe’s party. It was pathetic, but you kept looking at your phone in hopes that he would leave a message or even call you, wondering why you didn’t come. But why would he? He was preoccupied and entertained by a new ever-lovely jewel— what need would he have of you? You couldn’t even let yourself cry— you couldn’t even mourn because what is there to mourn? You could not grieve something that was casual. It would be foolish of you to do so. 

Now, you lay in your room trying to convince yourself that it was not as deep as you had believed it to be. That it should not affect you this greatly. Convincing yourself to be numb as your heart beats betrayal. You have betrayed yourself because you desired more— regretted your actions because you had settled for casual. 

You hesitated to call your friends and tell them what had happened, fearing they say, “I told you so” and “I warned you,” but they were gracious enough to keep those thoughts to themselves, suggesting you should visit them in the city and keep your mind off Rafe, which was difficult to do whilst on the island. It was a spontaneous decision, but with one message to your parents telling them that you’ll be going to New York and that you’ll need to borrow their jet and them replying with a thumbs up, you were quick to go wheels up and fly away from the outer banks.

“So, is it over now? Did you break it off with him?” Your friends asked as you gathered for brunch in the city. You frowned at their question, “What’s there to break off? We weren’t anything,” You mumbled. “Exactly, you weren’t anything! Why, then, are you so wounded?” Your friend, who was notorious for being frank and a tad insensitive, asked. You stayed quiet, not wanting to word out that you had optimism that your dalliance with Rafe would turn into something more. “You know what you should do?” Your friend asked, and you waited for them to finish their thought. “Give him a taste of his own medicine— the last time I was there, weren’t there two guys fighting for your attention? Use them and flaunt to Rafe this casualness he’s insisting on,” They suggested, and you scrunched up your nose in disagreement. 

“I’m not gonna do that! I… I’m not gonna use some innocent guy as a tool in the hopes of making Rafe jealous! That’s just mean and petty; besides, it might not even work.” You reasoned. “I just don’t want casual anymore. I want an actual relationship.” You sighed and locked eyes with your two closest friends. “You know what you have to do, don’t you?’ They asked, and you dejectedly nodded your head. “It’s just… if I end our arrangement, it means it’ll be the end of all that great sex,” you solemnly said, making your friends laugh at your admittance. “Oh, come on, it can’t be that great,” your friend scoffed in doubt, but you shook your head. “It is…I— the other night, he made me come seven times…seven! I could barely walk the next day,” you whispered, feeling heat rise to your cheeks as you recalled that memory. 

“Really? Seven times?” Your friend asked, intrigued, and you nodded your head, seeing the slight bewilderment in their eyes. “No! That’s beside the point! You deserve someone better— like those guys in those movies and books you love! Not this… frat bro who uses women as his cock warmer!” You sighed and nodded your head in agreement. “I knew you moving to North Carolina was a mistake,” Your friend sighed, “You’re too good for that place— it’s practically Florida!” Your friends said it with disgust, and you laughed at their snobbiness. You spent a week in the city, your friends trying hard to preoccupy your mind and show that you deserved better than Rafe. That you should never settle again— that tens or even hundreds of guys would treat you better than he would. Taking you to bars and parties from Brooklyn to the Upper East Side just to find a guy that would take your mind off of Rafe, none did the job. 

You went back to the Outer Banks feeling a bit better, your friends finally convincing you to remove any casual attachments because, knowing you, you would stay for more and be subjected to being one of Rafe’s playthings as long as he’d hold you in his arms. You were about to message him, asking him to meet you by the beach to halt your affairs with him and end your casual relationship. But before you could even type out the message, the doorbell rang, and you heard the hushed voice of the housemaid talking with Rafe. You furrowed your brows but stayed in your spot, not wanting to check if it was actually Rafe because if he saw you now, you would have no choice but to halt and cut ties. 

“Where were you? I’ve been calling you since last week, and you’ve been ignoring my calls and messages.” Your back was against him as he found you in the dining room. Your knees felt weak as you heard the deep baritone of his voice and the distinct smell of his cologne. You gathered the courage to face him, “I was in New York,” You reasoned and tried hard not to show hesitancy on your face. “Is that why you missed my party? I was waiting for you, and I even got that expensive ass wine you like because you don’t drink beer,” Rafe asked, walking towards you; his voice held confusion and, dare you say, sadness or hurt because you ceased contact with him for almost two weeks. 

You backed away towards the table and shook your head, willing yourself to stay strong and not grow soft by his charms or be attracted by his look; it was impossibly hard to do so. “No… I… went to your party,” You said, watching as Rafe’s brows shit in surprise, him inching towards you. “And, uhm… whilst I was there, I realized something.” You added and backed yourself toward the dining room table, nowhere to go as Rafe stood inches from you. “What?” He asked, trying to capture your gaze, but you were staring at the floor. You took a deep breath before the words left your lips, uncertain and fearing how he would react. Surely, he won’t react badly, right? You were just casual; he won’t be throwing a fit because you decided to end your dalliance. It won’t affect him; it won’t anger or sadden him. And the thought of him being unaffected wounded you.  

“I…I realized I don’t want this. I don’t want casual.” You explained. There was a beat of silence, and you finally lifted your gaze to see the confusion in Rafe’s blue eyes. “What… I don’t understand. I— you wanted this,” He said, and you watched the concussion in his eyes hide slight anger. “I thought I did. I thought I could do casual, but Rafe…” You sighed and stepped aside to put distance between the two of you. “Rafe, I’m a relationship type of girl; I like— I need commitment.” You explained. Rafe scoffed and shook his head, following you in the direction where you had walked off. “What is this? Some type of ultimatum? Now what? You’re trapping me in a relationship?” He spat, and you frowned at his words. 

“No, I’m doing the opposite! Rafe, I want commitment; I want an actual relationship, and I am completely aware that that is the last thing you want, which is why I don’t think we should see each other anymore,” You reasoned, growing frightened as the rage in his eyes was peeking through. “So what? You’re breaking up with me?” He gritted out, walking towards you, but you shook your head and walked further from him. “No, to break up with you meant we were in a relationship. You made it perfectly clear to me and to everyone that we weren’t,” The anger went quiet on his face, confusion covering it once more. “Nothing but a pastime— purely physical,” You sighed, reciting the words he thought you did not hear him say. You hear his heavy sigh, and an excuse was ready to be uttered from his lips. “I don’t wanna be your hobby anymore,” 

You walked off and heard him follow you towards the front door. “Baby, no— I,” You shook your head and felt proud of yourself as his little endearment did not waver your judgment. Continuing to open the door and motioned for him to leave. “I’ll see you around, Rafe,” You tried to smile and gently pushed him out of your home, out of your life.

Two days passed since your last encounter with Rafe, and you finally decided to leave the solace of your home and venture to… anywhere. You knew you could not go about the country club for a round of tennis, knowing Rafe often frequents there for a round of golf. And you could not as well accept the invitation of Weezy and Sarah to hang out in their home. So you headed to the beach, to a cafe that had an incomparable view of the ocean. 

You were sitting by the window, your gaze shifting between the book you had brought and the crash of waves. Your quiet and focus were disrupted by the sound of a chair scraping and a presence appearing beside you. “That’s a good book,” You turned to your right in confusion, only to be met with blue eyes and a charming smirk on a familiar face. “You haven’t read, let alone heard of this book, Rafe,” you sighed, scooting further from him to keep your distance. 

Rafe clenched his jaw as he felt you inch further from him. Gathering your things to leave. “How long are you gonna keep up with this, huh? Come on, you may not want casual, but you cannot lie and say you don’t want me as well,” Rafe followed you out as you hurriedly walked away from him. You sighed and shook your head, mumbling “Wanted,” as a correction for Rafe’s statement. “What?” He asked and took hold of your hand as you started to walk off once more. “Wanted. It’s in the past; I no longer want casual, and I no longer want you. Just leave this be, Rafe.” You tried to act civil, and respectful. Trying to maintain civility and not burn a bridge that, in all honesty, you would very much like to keep. 

You feel his hold on your hand tighten slightly and see the rage in his eye, trying hard to be suppressed. “You have tens of girls waiting to be your next casualty, Rafe. Let’s leave this be… it has run its course. I don’t want meaningless hookups, and it’s clear that that is all you could give me.” Rafe’s jaw clenched as the truth slipped from your lips. “Bye, Rafe,” You said once more and started to walk away from him. “What do I have to do for us to go back to the way it was?” He called after a while; you wanted to groan as he followed you once more. “Come on, baby. I’ll give you a ride home, and we can talk about it… please,” You were starting to grow frustrated as his hands placed themselves on your waist again; it was shameful that it quickly brought back the need in you. 

“No, I’ll walk. And Rafe…you can’t have to do anything for us to go back to the way that it was— I don’t want to go back to the way that it was. I have explained it to you thrice now. I don’t want casual!” You were practically screaming, and you hated that you lost composure. You wanted to go about this whole situation maturely, but Rafe was a test of your patience. “God, you’re so hot when you’re angry.” Was all he said, a teasing twinkle in his eyes and a smirk returned to his lips. You scoffed and rolled your eyes, turning away from him as you were now desperate to leave. But Rafe never relinquished his hold of you, only pulling you close and smashed your lips. You kept your jaw clenched as he eagerly tried to solicit a reaction from you— kissed you fervently as he was desperate that you would reciprocate his kiss. You hear him groan and let out a frustrated sigh as he parted for air. “Enough, Rafe. It’s done; we’re through with this.” You sternly said and wiped your lips of him.

A week has passed since Rafe kissed you. And you would admit, you were feeling withdrawals. You were missing him. Missing the way he held you close in sleep, with him burying his face in the crook of your neck or in your hair, and the way his arms would wrap around you so tightly yet so comfortingly. You missed how he would kiss your lips first thing in the morning and last thing in the night. You missed how he would bring pints you ice cream after taking Weezy to the ice cream parlor. You missed how he made you feel wanted— how he made you feel like you were the only one to bring him such blinding pleasure when you laid. You missed how you thought that you were made for him and how he was made for you. You missed Rafe. But not wholly enough to settle to be one of his girls once more. 

You were having a rare family dinner, and your parents finally came back from their trip and decided to stay home for at least a week and it went by quickly, with this being their last night and them flying off first thing tomorrow morning. You tried not to appear sullen— to actually enjoy their company, but it was difficult as Rafe was the constant thought in your head. You were seated in the dining room, your parents discussing their next trips and asked about your recent venture to New York, when the doorbell rang. You oddly felt your heart spike as you heard shuffling when your maid went to see who the visitor was. You licked your lips as you heard the far-off sound of Rafe calling for you, your maid entering the dining room and whispering that he came here for you. You excused yourself from your parents and hastily went to the front door, horrid to see the state Rafe was in. 

His eyes were bloodshot, and his form more rigid. There was a thing sheen of sweat on his forehead, and he smelt of booze, and your eyes did not miss the smidge of white powder on the side of his nose. He was fucking high. 

“Hi, baby… you look so pretty,” He slurred as he stumbled closer to you. You were mortified that he could be seen by your parents, especially in such a state. “Oh, you’re wearing one… one of those going out dresses,” he mumbled again, his hand going to your waist and feeling the fabric of your dress. “Are you on a fucking date? What? You fucking replaced me already, huh? Is that it?” He was no longer mumbling; his mellow state turned to rage, and you looked back down the hall, fearing your parents heard. “Rafe, shh… my parents are here; they cannot see you like this.” You tried to push him out, but he resisted, now more determined to step foot further into your house. “Like what? Are you ashamed of me? Is that why you ended it?” You stared up at him with him with a deep frown. You hear your parents call for you, and you feel your stomach twist in fear. 

You weighed your options; you could not let your parents see Rafe, but you could not push him out of your home and leave him in such a state. So you had no choice but to guide him towards your room once more. “Hm… I knew you couldn’t resist me. I missed you so much; I missed the way you would scr—“ You shushed him and made him sit on your bed, “I’ll be back— I still have dinner with my parents.” You said and hoped your mother and father would not grow suspicious of your absence. 

Your emotions were mixed as Rafe wrapped his strong arms around your waist as you stood before him. He nuzzled his face on your torso and hummed in satisfaction. “I missed you, baby… tell me you missed me too,” He mumbled against your frame. You tried to push him away, but he would only whine and hold you tighter. You had the faintest clue on how to handle him in a drunken and high state— he never was neither of those things whilst you two had your arrangements. “Rafe, please, my parents are getting suspicious. I’ll come back in a while.” You looked down at Rafe, who looked up to you with such vulnerability in his eyes that you had never seen. “I promise I’ll be back,” you sighed and kissed his cheek as a reassurance. Rafe finally relinquished his hold, and you ran back to the dining room and prayed your parents wouldn’t ask too many questions. 

Dinner somehow lasted for hours. Your parents were insistent on doing some bonding after many months away, playing board games, and even watching one of your favorite childhood movies. It was nice, you admit, to spend more time with your parents, but the thought of Rafe trying to sober up in your room and that he might be caught caused you to shrink in fear and panic. 

It was nearing midnight when you finally returned to your room, and you saw Rafe newly showered and waiting for you by the foot of your bed. “Do you want water?” You asked as you saw that he had sobered up. “No, I’m fine,” He said, but he could not meet your eyes. There was a moment of tense and awkward silence between the two of you. “You should… you should probably go,” You sighed and moved to the other side of your room to remove the earrings you adorned. 

Rafe did not utter a word, and you bit your lip as you turned to him. “Why?” He asked after a quiet moment. “Why did you end it?” He asked, and you felt exhaustion wash over you. “Rafe, I told you, I realized I don’t want casual, and that is all you are capable of. I’m not going to force myself and my wish for commitment upon you.” Rafe shook his head, “No. You were perfectly fine with our arrangement— what the fuck changed?” You licked your lips and thought twice if you should share with him your moment of realization. “I went to your party.” You stated and took your seat next to him. You saw from the side of your eye that Rafe had a frown on his face as he tried to take hold of your hand. “I went to your party and saw you making out with another girl… and there I realized that I can’t be casual. I can’t be the chill girl who settles for sharing someone they really like.” 

“You really like me?” Rafe asked, ignoring all your other statements. You couldn’t help but laugh as a boyish grin spread across his lips. “Liked, is the key word here,” You say with a small smile, but the grin on his lips faltered. 

“I don’t want casual.” Rafe suddenly announced and humorlessly laughed with a shake of your head. “You’re just saying that because you want us to fuck again,” There was a sting in your heart as you said the words. “No,” He denied, and you shook your head, standing up to put distance between the two of you. “Can you fucking stop walking away from me!” He gritted out and pulled you to sit beside him once more. “I never saw this as casual, okay?” You scoffed at his lie. “It’s true!” He defended, “Rafe, I heard you with your friends— you told me on three occasions what we are. I saw you making out with a girl! You saw me as nothing but casual!” 

“I don’t think you know what casual really is,” Rafe sighed and cupped your cheek; you tried to shift his hold, but you grew weak as you missed the way his large, calloused palm cupped your cheek. “If we were just casual, I wouldn’t have spent every moment of my free time with you. I wouldn’t be staying with you after we had sex and hold you ‘till we fall asleep. If we were casual, I wouldn’t attempt to cook you breakfast or go with you to those bookstores for hours just to hold the things you wanted to buy… I wouldn’t have told you about my issues with my dad, let alone let you meet my family! Baby, it was never casual.” You chewed on your lips as you felt your heart flutter, but your mind was battling with it. “You were kissing another girl— you bragged to your friends that I was nothing but a pastime.” 

“Those were mistakes. Topper was giving me a hard time— kept teasing me of how whipped I was with you and… I just wasn’t ready to admit it,” You bit your tongue as you felt the want to let a small smile slip your lips. “And at the party?” You instead asked, reminding yourself of the reason why you had the epiphany that you and Rafe could not work out. “It was a bigger mistake,” Rafe sighed, and you feel his thumb caressing your cheek, straying to touch your lips. “But it only made me realize more clearly that all I want to kiss and hold— the only one I want is you,” You leaned in closer to his touch. Ignoring the fact that your friends would be dismayed by your actions because you faltered by his words and his touch. “Do you believe me?” He asked as his face was inching closer to yours. You could not utter a word, but instead, you just moved to kiss his lips that you had desperately missed. 

“Rafe,” You mewled as his lips moved to your neck and his hand gripped your bosom. “You missed me, haven’t you, baby? Admit it, pretty girl,” Rafe hummed and nipped your skin but quickly soothed it with his tongue. You feel his ringed hand grips your thigh, his hand trailing up higher and higher. “Say it, pretty baby, tell me how much you’ve missed me,” Rafe practically growled. “Oh god, I missed you— so much,” You finally uttered and moved to straddle and push him down on the bed. You heard Rafe chuckle as it was your turn to pepper kisses on his neck. You feel his strong hands grip the flesh of your ass, and he guides you to grind upon him. “Let me prove to you that you’re the only one I want— will ever want, for that matter.” You gasped as Rafe barbarically ripped off your dress. “Rafe, that was couture,” You distractedly said as the fine dress was torn. “Baby, I don’t fucking care, I’ll buy you a new one.” He said and caught your lips as his hands fondled your exposed breasts, and your fingers tugged at the hem of his shirt. 

Your hands trailed the skin of his exposed chest, feeling the contours of his impressive physique, and your hands hesitated and hovered over his trousers. You looked Rafe into his blue eyes, “All yours, baby, I’m all fucking yours,” He growled and harshly kissed your lips as your hand slipped into his trousers and grasped his length that was already hard and throbbing. Rafe had no patience and slipped off his pants himself, smirking as you marveled at his length and your mouth practically salivated at the sight of him. 

“Tell me what you want, baby. Use your words,” Rafe whispered and nipped the lobe of your ear, making you whimper. “You… I want you,” You sighed as his fingers played with the sensitive buds of your breast. “Hm… what else?” Rafe urged, wanting to hear you foul and lewd— wanting you to utter your desires. “I… want… I want to suck you off and then fuck me after,” You whispered, staring into once clear blue eyes that now turned dark with lust and want. You gasped as Rafe altered your position. Him lying on your bed with your cunt hovering over his face. His hands guide you to lower yourself for your sex to meet his lips and your lips to meet his length. 

You could not hold in the moan as his hands forced you to shift all of your weight atop him, and his hand gripped your hair whilst your tongue traced the length of his pulsating member. “Rafe… oh fuck,” You cried as his tongue darted in and out of you, and you finally gathered the courage to take him into your mouth. You had difficulty before; you had quite a sensitive gag reflex, and Rafe’s massive length tested that. “Such a good girl taking me in the pretty mouth… so fucking good, baby.” Rafe praised against your cunt and granted as your cunt grounded itself on his face in search of further friction. Rafe felt the back of your throat squeeze him, and he feared he might spill himself in your mouth; that could not be. He needed to feel you around him before he could let himself feel such pleasurable release. 

You tried to catch your breath as Rafe repositioned you once more, you straddling him again. You buried your head in the crook of his neck as you sank down on his length. You hear Rafe wince in pleasure and pain as you sink into his cock and as you bit down on his shoulder blade. “So fucking tight… all fucking mine,” Rafe gritted as he was finally fully sheathed into you. “Rafe,” You called as you felt tears threatening to spill at the sensation of him being buried deep inside. “This is what you wanted, huh? You wanted to be fucked by me— only me,” You mindlessly nod your head as you feel him brush over a spot that muddle your mind and made your senses only feel pleasure. Rafe buried his face between your heaving chest and inhaled the scent of you deeply. Your hands scratched his back, making tingles reach the bottom of his spine, spurring him closer to climax. 

And though Rafe was desperate for release— he was addicted to the feel of your clinging and clenching around him, to the sweet moans that spewed out of your plump lips, and the tears of pleasure that cascaded down your cheeks. He wanted to savor you in such a state for a few moments more, even if it meant he denied himself the pleasure he had been seeking for the past two weeks. “Rafe… I’m— fuck, Ra…” You could not even finish or properly word out your sentence as pleasure consumed you. “Fucking hell,” Rafe gritted and tilted his head back as he felt your release trigger his own. 

You breathed heavily as you waited for him to spill himself inside you. Trying to compose your mind and control your breathing. You took his face between your hands, looking deeply into his eyes. “Still casual?” You breathlessly asked. Rafe shook his head and gripped your waist tightly. “Never casual.”

[leighsartworks216]

Angel, Please

Zayne x gn!Reader

Went shopping with my roommate thinking it would be really quick, and then spent like an hour in there just pushing the cart for them and losing all energy and ability to think. This is the result of that

Title is from the song "Angel, Please" by Ra Ra Riot

Warnings: sensory overload, anxiety, avoiding a mental breakdown, emotional hurt/comfort, fluff, established relationship

Word Count: 2,103

Main Masterlist

Love and Deepspace Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

You stare down at the shopping list in your hand, written in a mix of handwriting. Some items listed were written down by Zayne, others were added by you. A culmination of a week or so worth of groceries. It’s harder to read the words than it should be.

You have milk, cereal… You look back and forth between your cart and the list, but you can’t connect the dots. Nothing is clicking together.

Milk. Check.

Cereal. Check.

Your skin feels uncomfortably hot and itchy, but you don’t take off your sweatshirt and you don’t scratch. Your chest is tight, and you can’t seem to get a deep enough breath in. You zone out while staring at the list, urging your body to get a hold of itself.

“Excuse me,” someone scoffs as they invade your space to reach for something on the shelf behind you. They give you a look, judgemental and cruel, and walk away with a huff. Their basket bumps your cart with a clang that makes you twitch.

God, could they please turn the music down? The lights down? You just- You just need everyone to disappear. You just need to disappear.

You bite your cheek long enough to suffer through a self-checkout. You rapidly scan whatever you do have - more than just milk and cereal, but you don’t even process them anymore - and pay as quickly as possible, conscious of the eyes of other waiting customers trying to check out boring into you, judging you, urging you to just fucking move already.

The cool autumn air doesn’t soothe you enough. You throw everything into the trunk of your car. The pavement of the parking lot vibrates your hands as you push the cart to the nearest return. You rub them on your sweatshirt desperately.

You have to keep it together. You can’t break down in a parking lot at a grocery store just because all of your senses were freaking out. You are a Hunter! You fight Wanderers! You put your life on the line every single day! Why are you losing it here of all places?!

Your hands shake as you find Zayne’s number. It connects to the bluetooth in your car and you pull out of the parking space.

Are you really 100% fit to drive? No. But you need to get away from here as soon as possible. As tempting as it would be to ask to be picked up, you don’t want to be a burden.

“Hello?”

You swallow thickly. Your hands rub restlessly at the steering wheel. “H-Hey.” You clear your throat. “Hey. I’m heading home now.”

“Are you alright?” Zayne asks.

You want to put your head on the wheel and cry. You feel pathetic.

“Did something happen?” You picture his frown. The way his eyes sharpen when he tries to pick apart a little mystery. You want him with you right now. “Please answer me.”

“I-I’m fine,” you answer quickly, a knee-jerk reaction to the question. You know you’re trying to convince yourself. You know he doesn’t believe it for a second. “Just… Just stay on the phone with me until I get back. Can you…? Am I bothering you?”

He hushes you softly through the phone. “You’re not bothering me, darling. I’ll stay with you.” You sigh shakily. His voice sounds so nice right now. Your left leg bounces restlessly. “What do you want to talk about?”

You scramble to think of anything. You anxiously wait for traffic to clear enough to let you turn out of the parking lot. Your mind is taking in too much and too little information at the same time. Cars are just colored shapes, but you know where every single light source is around you. They keychains hanging from the key in the ignition rubs your leg like someone is drawing fire across your skin with a paintbrush. You try batting them away, but the jingle grates in your ears like it’s been amplified.

You pull into the flow of traffic, at last.

“Why don’t we talk about that show you enjoy so much?” he offers carefully. “The one with the girl caught in a love triangle? What was her Evol again?”

“She…” You swallow and check your speed. As badly as you want to get home, you don’t want to get pulled over either. “She can feel other people’s emotions. And, and in one episode she changes them, too.”

He hums thoughtfully. “Does she feel the attraction from the other characters? The men from the love triangle. What are their names?”

“Joseph and,” you turn on your blinker and wait at the stop light, “Damien. She can, but she feels bad because she’s not interested in either of them. So she pretends she doesn’t feel it.”

“So if she’s not interested in the prospective love interests, who does she like?”

You slowly pull up as a yellow arrow blinks, waiting for a gap in traffic to pull through. Once you’re driving steadily again, you answer. “She has a crush on her bed friend in the show, Melina. It’s really sweet, actually. But Melina has no clue, even though Therese, the main girl, keeps hinting at it, because Melina thinks Therese is interested in Damien.”

“That would be a tricky situation to be in. Who do you think she’ll end up with by the end?”

You laugh, but it’s slightly airy and strained, like someone punched it out of you. “I hope she gets with Melina, obviously!” You turn your blinker on again at a stop sign and turn after a second. This road doesn’t get too busy. “There’s actually some hints that Joseph and Damien will end up together. Everyone online thinks they’re competing for Therese’s love to try hiding their own feelings for each other.”

He doesn’t respond for a second. “Are you almost home, darling?”

You blink, and just like that, you’ve been snapped back into your body, aware once more of your surroundings. You’re in the middle of pulling into the apartment’s parking lot. You don’t even remember the drive to get there. “Y-Yeah. I’m here, actually,” you murmur.

“Okay. I’ll meet you down there. Do you need me to stay on the phone until then?”

You fiddle with the keychains, considering it. Everything doesn’t feel so itchy anymore. Your eyes hurt, but it feels more like the sting of exhaustion. Your head still thuds with a headache, but the noises that fueled it before feel more bearable now. “I think I’ll be okay.”

“Call me again if you need to. I’m on the way.”

The call ends and you turn off the car, pulling the keys from the ignition and holding them in your lap. You feel surreal, like your brain hasn’t quite caught up to your body now that it’s not screaming about every little thing. The parking lot outside your window doesn’t feel real. The bike you parked next to, your bike, feels out of place.

You groan and rest your head against the steering wheel, shutting your eyes tightly. Why can’t you just feel normal already?

A finger taps on the glass. You look up and watch as Zayne opens the door for you. “Are you alright?” he asks again.

You bite your tongue to avoid answering automatically. But the real answer eludes you. You don’t think you’re gonna freak out if your sweatshirt happens to brush your neck in a weird way, but you’re not exactly sure you could just calmly ignore it if it did happen either.

You slip out of the seat and out of the car. Zayne has that concerned look on his face, like you’ve just told him you haven’t slept for a week straight, but he doesn’t say anything, just shuts the door behind you.

He opens the trunk and begins gathering messily thrown-together bags of groceries. You grab one of the lighter ones that he leaves for you, and close the trunk. The car beeps when you hit the lock button on the fob.

Once you’re inside, you sit at the kitchen island and watch as he puts away everything you got. You find the crumpled list in your pocket. You have the clarity now to see just how many items you missed, including things you needed to make dinner tonight. You want to crumple yourself up into a ball like this paper.

Zayne’s hand comes into view as he slides the paper over to where he stands. He has a notepad and a pen, and he goes down the old list to write out what you missed.

“I’m sorry.”

He doesn’t answer until he finishes the list, clicking the pen and setting it down. Then, his full attention is on you. “Can you tell me what happened now?”

You can’t meet his eyes. It’s hard enough admitting actual health issues to him, let alone stupid shit like this. Logically, you know he’s seen this happen to you before, know he wouldn’t think it’s stupid like you do. But it’s still difficult.

“I just got overwhelmed,” you mutter. You trace shapes into the marble countertop. “Everything was so loud and bright and… And I panicked, that’s all.”

“How do you feel now?”

You sigh and cross your arms on the counter, resting your chin on them. “I’ve got a headache, and I’m tired. But I’m not? I don’t know how to explain it. It’s like I’m in a dream. Nothing feels real right now.”

He hums in understanding. “I can think of several treatment plans that may help.” You finally look at him and he shoots you a wry grin. “First, I suggest you take some pain medication for your headache, before it gets any worse. After that, you have a few options. You can go take a nap or spend some time alone to decompress. You can put on your noise-cancelling headphones and listen to music or a podcast. Or we can watch that show you told me about, and I can make you some tea.”

“That’s a lot of choices, doc.”

“It’s in the patient’s best interests to have a lot of options,” he says. “You’re not beholden to any one choice.”

You look away as you think about it. What do you want right now? What do you need? “Can I mix and match?”

He nods. “Of course you can.”

“Tea sounds nice,” you start. “I don’t want to sleep right now, but I can listen to music, I think. But I just want to be with you.” You look at him again. “Is that alright?”

He smiles, answering you without words. Instead, he moves around the kitchen to fill a kettle with water and sets it on the stove. He disappears down the hall to retrieve two pills and your headphones, setting both on the counter in front of you. He fills a glass with some water for you to take the meds. You grab the headphones and slip them on, and head over to the couch to get comfortable. They connect to your phone once you turn them on. You scroll through your playlists for a while, but the more you look, the more unappealing it sounds to you.

Zayne comes in with a steaming mug of tea, prepared how he knows you like it. You hesitantly take off your headphones. “Actually, will you read to me?”

“What would you like to hear?”

You shrug. “Anything. I just want to hear your voice right now.”

He browses the bookshelf nearby. You set your headphones down and blow on the tea to cool it down. He slips one of the books out and carries it over to the couch. You curl into his side the second he’s sitting down.

The book is one of your favorites. You’ve never seen him read it before, but he’s seen you pull it out lots of times ever since you moved in together. You smile. A comfortable warmth emanates from your heart.

The paper slides gently from one side to the next as he turns the pages. It’s not grating. It doesn’t send shocks of discomfort through your body. You cradle the mug close as you rest your head on his shoulder, letting your eyes relax as you skim the familiar words. His shirt on your cheek isn’t scratchy at all. It’s nice and soft.

He begins reading and you close your eyes. You breathe in deep the cool scent of his cologne, the fresh smell of his body wash, the slightly bitter, rich essence of the tea.

You can relax here. You can exist here. This feels real.

---

Tag List:

@the-golden-jhope

[intoanotherworld23]

Forbidden Fruit

Summary: Working for the Millers as their children’s babysitter has been the best job you’ve had, but the only problem is your massive crush on Joel.

Pairing: Reader x Joel Miller

Word Count: 2.3k+ words

Rating: 18+ MDNI

Warnings: nothing major just some kissing, making out, sexual tension, cheating, infidelity, thoughts of sex, mention of female masturbation, age gap

A/N: Let me know what you guys think so far comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated. If you wish to be tagged for this please let me know and I’ll be sure to add you! Thanks so much everyone! XOXO

Hall Of Hunks

〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️

It was wrong. All of it. Every single second. Every single thought. Always bowing your head in shame every time you so much as even pictured him shirtless.

Feeling your eyes tearing up in embarrassment as you felt more pathetic each time you touched yourself to the thought of him touching you or kissing you. Your feelings were never meant to become this strong. It was only a crush.

Obsessing over him more every time you looked at him. Suddenly feeling shy as soon as he entered into the room. Every smile or kind word thrown your way you were head over heels. Silently praying to yourself that maybe those words would turn into something more one day.

Wondering to their bedroom laying on his side so you could smell his scent on the pillow. Inhaling his musky and sandalwood cologne that lingered in the fabrics. Picturing what it would be like to wake up beside him every morning. Imaging him kissing all over your face and pulling your body closer to his.

He was married for crying out loud, and you babysat his kids. Plus he was older than you and was all together out of your league. It was just a temporary crush, and one day you'd forget about him and never seen this man ever again in your life. Chances are he doesn't even give you second glances each time you show up, and early might you add.

His wife surely was suspicious by now or could at least tell how just in love with this man you were. She was gorgeous and probably had men falling to their knees over her. She had to know all about what it was like to crush hard over someone, and could see the obvious signs.

If she did know she hasn't said anything or even hinted that she knew. Instead she gave you warm smiles and plain compliments.

Their kids loved you or couldn't wait for the days you would come over. Constantly bugging them to have you over just so they could play with you. In fact his wife felt at times envious over her own kids adoring you. You knew what she was thinking, but never once did she ever show it on her face. She hid it behind a polite smile.

You paid more attention to her kids than she ever did. In fact one night they confessed they wished you were their mom instead of her. At first it warmed your heart at the thought of being the mother of his kids.

Then just as quickly you pushed that thought down, and told them never to say that ever again. In fear of what the mother would say.

Scrolling through your phone as the seconds ticked by. Having already put the kids to bed now you just waited for the happy couple to show up so you could leave and head back to your pathetic excuse of an apartment.

Hearing the roar of an engine outside the house indicating they were back, and a little early too. Usually they were out well past midnight, and it wasn't even ten yet. This was really odd, and you scrunched your face in confusion. Gathering your things slowly as you possibly could not ready to leave yet.

Standing up only to hear the door open aggressively, and a red faced Joel walk through the door. Judging by the silence and rigid body language something happened tonight.

He loosened his day like he had a long day at the office. His wife not far behind him as he pushed past him neither one of them looking at you or each other.

Watching as she practically sprinted upstairs with her makeup smeared down her cheeks, and heading towards the kids room. Something clearly happened and you didn't want to press especially since it really wasn't your business.

"Hi you guys are home early."

"My whore of a wife is taking the kids to her parents house for a couple nights."

That certainly wasn't the sort of response you expected from him as you stood there in place unsure of what to say. His words being said loud enough in the hopes she heard. Watching as he slammed the door shut grumbling to the kitchen pouring himself a glass of scotch downing it in one shot.

As much as you wanted to run over to him and comfort him it wasn't your place. Rocking back and forth on your heels feeling awkward at what you should say or do at this point.

Hearing shuffling upstairs as drawers were being opened and closed. The kids were crying out breaking your heart at the sound.

"Mr. Miller? Is everything all right?"

Before he could respond his wife descended down the stairs with a couple bags and her kids trucking behind her.

"Say good night to your daddy kids."

Watching as they ran right into his arms hugging them tightly like it was the last time he might ever see them.

Unable to hear what he was saying to them as he kissed them on the cheeks, and patted their heads in comfort hating to seek them like this. He wanted them to stay with him instead, but right now he really wanted to be alone, and he didn't want to accidentally take his anger out on them.

"I love you both so much."

Was the last thing he could say to them before she grabbed them and shoved them out the door. You hadn't moved from your spot the whole time. You don't even think you blinked once since they first came through the door.

This is the last thing you expected to happen when they came home. In fact this was probably the last time you'd have to babysit for them. Which means you'd probably never see Joel again.

It was selfish of you to think like that especially since something very serious happened between the couple.

"I'm sorry." He whispered as he turned to face you this time.

"It's okay Mr. Miller."

"No it's not okay. None of this is okay." His fingers combing back his hair all in distress.

"Mr. Miller this is really none of my business."

"Please stay for just a few minutes."

"Okay." Hesitating on your answer unsure if you should involve yourself in what clearly was a personal matter.

"The whole night was going so perfectly. We were having a good time and things couldn't have been going better."

Walking over to you then shuffling his feet to the couch throwing himself down his shoulders shrugged down. A look of disbelief across his face, and he tried to find the right words to say or explain what happened.

"Then she told me that she was having an affair with a man she worked with. That she was happier with him than she was with me."

You could tell he was heart broken over the whole thing. Feeling like his whole world was crashing down around him. All he wanted to do was just cry, and drink until he was numb. Just wanting to feel something other than heartbreak and pain.

Staring deep into your eyes not realizing how beautiful you actually were. Baffled that he never took notice of you before.

How soft your skin looked, and how luscious your lips were shaped. Everything about you looked perfect, and suddenly his spirits were feeling lighter.

Watching his eyes drifting from your lips to between your eyes. Something was happening between you two, but you didn't exactly know what was going on.

It was like Joel was contemplating what he wanted to do. Trying to decided if you'd indulge him or smack him across the face, and never speak to him again.

"Mr. Miller?"

"Call me Joel." He whispered as he started to lean forward.

"Please don't hit me for doing this."

Wasting no time in pressing his lips against yours. Once he felt you start to relax he moved his lips against yours. Turning his head to the side as a hand came up and caressed the side of your face.

Feeling your lips tingle as you cocked your head towards the opposite side. Your entire body felt like it was floating in the air. From Joel's lips pressed against to his hands touching your face. Both of you knew it was wrong, but neither one of you cared.

Either one of you cared about was each other. It had been too long since you or him felt like this. Something that both of you missed, and needed in your life.

It was like a heat wave rushed across your body, and you could feel this immense pressure between your legs. No doubt there would be a wet spot there. Joel would discover it soon enough.

His body pushing you back so your head was resting on the arm rest, and you moved both of your legs onto the couch. Joel hovering above you as he kept his lips on yours.

Making out with him on the couch his hands moved down to your hips. Grinding his body down on top of yours feeling his erection poking between your legs. His pants were incredibly tight, and he wanted to get out of his clothes soon as possible.

"Is this okay?" Hands gripping the top of your pants ready to pull them down.

"Absolutely."

Smirking as he quickly pulled them down your legs dropping them to the floor. Licking his lips when he took notice of the lace panties you were wearing.

"You sure you want this?" Nodding your head eagerly as you grabbed his face and gave him a hard kiss.

"Please I want this."

"God you drive me crazy baby."

Hands reaching up so Joel could lift your shirt over your head. Laying there in nothing but your matching bra and panties. You were like a gift wrapped in a bow under his gaze. He couldn't wait to open you up.

Your hands covering yourself up feeling self conscious under his hungry gaze. It was like you were under a bright light being watched. Joel shaking his head at what you were doing.

"Don't cover yourself up sweetheart." Moving your hands out of the way. "You're so gorgeous."

His hands were warm against your skin. His touch was like a magnetic pull, and you couldn't help but be tugged in. It was a long time coming of frustration and tension. Both of you needed this more than you realized.

Before anything else could happen his phone went off making both of you jump. Leaning his head forward onto your chest with a loud groan. Sighing heavily at what would have happened if the phone didn't go off.

"You've gotta be fucking kidding me."

Snarling as he got up and walked over to where his laid his phone down. Leaning up as you watched him answer the phone his tone clearly not happy.

"What?"

There was some muffled voice on the other end of the phone. Rubbing his hand down his face in frustration. This was the last thing that he needed to deal with.

Hearing him start to argue with whoever was on the other end. If only this person knew what they had just interrupted. He might not have answered it, but it could have been an important call.

"Can't you get someone else to come in?"

Joel was a very well known doctor, and was brilliant and good at what he did. People from different parts of the world came to see him. His hours could range at any time even in the middle of the night.

"Jesus christ I'll come in." Ending the call as he set his phone down.

There were tears pricking in the corner of yours eyes. The sexual frustration was almost at an unbearable level. You were like a pot of water that was about to boil over, and any moment you would blow.

"Hospital?"

"Yeah." Bowing his head as he shuffled his feet over to you. "I'm so sorry."

"No it's okay I've gotta get back home anyway."

Feeling incredibly awkward and uncomfortable as you sat there half naked. Joel was ashamed if he would glance at your body again. Trying to find something else to look at. The reality of what you two almost just did hitting him.

"Look," standing in front of you now when you were completely dressed,"what just happened can’t happen again."

"I know."

"Not that I didn't want to cause believe me I want to so bad." Hands softly grabbing your arms as he looked deep into your eyes.

"It's just that-."

"The wife." Interrupting him already knowing what he was going to say.

Maybe he was using her as an excuse to not sleep with you. Not wanting to give into his carnal desires that were clawing at the cage. It was confusing for both of you neither one of you had done this before.

He thought about just jerking himself off until the feeling washed away. Hoping that maybe the lust would go away, and that this wouldn't happen again.

"Am I fired?" Blurting out before you could stop yourself.

"Probably not." Shrugging his shoulders as he responded. "Depends on the wife, well soon to be ex wife."

Which was true cause if you knew any better, she would try to fight for full custody. Since he was working all the time, and wouldn't have that much time with the kids. His kids were his life, and he couldn't lose them.

"Well I'm always available if you need me."

"I know thank you Y/N."

Grabbing your hands in his as he smiled warmly at you. Deep down he was hoping that he didn't make you so he could keep seeing you, and maybe continue what you two were doing. He wanted it so much more than what you realized.

Dropping his hands from yours as you grabbed your things, and took a quick note of the time. It was getting really late, and right now you needed to lay down and clear your head.

"Good night Mr. Miller."

"Joel." Giving you that friendly reminder as you just smiled at him.

"Joel." Repeating his name like liquid honey dripping from your mouth.

"Good night."

[xxsabitoxx]

NSFW Alphabet With The Hantengu Clones

Sekido | Karaku | Aizetsu | Urogi x AFAB reader

Warning: this whole post contains smut

A/N: I am here to provide for y’all. I’m going to try and get as much Hantengu clone content out as I can this week LMAO. I am determined to pioneer and fill the clones’ smut tags

A= Aftercare (what they’re like after the act)

Sekido: he’s quiet for once, though he won’t necessarily comfort you after everything he put you through. He’s more or less going to offer you a wet cloth to clean yourself but he won’t do it for you. He’ll share the bed after to sleep but that’s it.

Karaku: talkative and teasing, he’s going to push your tangled hair out of your face and comment about how fucked out you look. He’ll clean you up but isn’t exactly gentle. He’ll lay beside you after but not cuddle, more or less lay shoulder to shoulder.

Aizetsu: he needs praise, he’ll tell you how good you were but he needs you to do the same for him. He prefers if you clean each other up opposed to doing it alone. He’s big on spooning after, big or small spoon, it doesn’t matter to him so long as he’s touching you

Urogi: everything is a competition, when it comes to aftercare he’s determined to be the best at it. He’ll give you whatever you need, clean you up, give you water, help you walk and care for the accidental wounds from his claws. He’s also a fan of cuddling.

B= Body part (favorite body part their own or their lovers)

Sekido: his hands and his biceps. Your neck, he’s obsessed with biting it and leaving angry looking teeth marks on your skin.

Karaku: his chest and his abs. Your ass, he loves to hit it, squeeze it, scratch it. He loves when it turned bright red after hitting it hard.

Aizetsu: his hands. Your everything. There is not one part of you that he doesn’t adore, he finds all of it attractive

Urogi: his abs and his thighs. To be blunt, he loves your pussy. He’s not ashamed to say that either, he’ll gladly proclaim it to anyone.

C= Cum (anything that has to do with it)

Sekido: prefers to cum inside, finds it the easiest to clean up that way. He’s not very fond of making a mess with his cum

Karaku: loves to cum down your throat or on your face. He likes how pathetic you look covered in his cum

Aizetsu: he cums wherever he feels like it, he likes seeing your ass covered in it but he also likes seeing it seep out of you

Urogi: his goal is always to cum inside rather than on you, that means in your mouth, your cunt or in your ass

D= Dirty secret (Pretty self explanatory)

Sekido: he loves when you have a sharp tongue and degrade him. It doesn’t happen often but he loves how it makes him feel. He’s angry, always in a bad mood, sex is the only thing that is able to calm him for a bit and when you talk back it only fuels is desire to unwind

Karaku: secretly wants you hurt him. He can regenerate, you’d have zero chance at actually causing him real, lasting harm. But he wants you to cut him up, hurt him, make him beg you to stop all the while you’re using his dick like a personal toy

Aizetsu: he wants you to tie him up and use him, leave him there for hours at a time, hard and leaking and waiting for you to satisfy him. He wants you to edge him until he’s crying and begging, just like he does to you. Though he often gets upset with you…

Urogi: he wants to fuck you in the wilderness. Given the fact that he can fly, he can get the two of you to some pretty fascinating places. Want to fuck on the side of a mountain? On top of someone’s house? Up in the trees? You name it, he’s sure he can find it.

E= Experience (do they know what they’re doing)

Sekido: he’s had his fair share over the last century but he’s also selfish in bed. He knows what he’s doing but he thinks you need to earn it. Prove to him that you deserve it.

Karaku: he knows what he’s doing but he hasn’t had as much experience as Sekido. He’s more laid back and doesn’t mind his partner taking the lead and showing him a thing or two.

Aizetsu: initially he had no idea, just a lot of fumbling and confusion at first. He excels if he has a partner with experience and would rather you show him what you want to do

Urogi: he has experience from peeping on people, over the last century his appearance has made it harder to actually go out and put his acquired skills to use. Luckily he has you

F= Favorite position

Sekido: mating press

Karaku: cowgirl

Aizetsu: doggy

Urogi: butterfly

G= Goofy (how serious are they)

Sekido: extremely serious. Like no joking, no smart comments, fully serious and fully focused

Karaku: a healthy mix of goofy and serious. He’s more laid back, making slick comments here and there

Aizetsu: fairly serious, he isn’t one to really make jokes in general, more or less he’s too focused and a bit worried to even attempt

Urogi: completely unserious. He’s going to make sly comments, crack jokes at your expense

H= Hair (grooming habits)

Sekido: bald, the hair annoys him

Karaku: trimmed, he keeps up with it

Aizetsu: trims it occasionally but usually he lets it be

Urogi: completely untamed, not one fuck given

I= Intimacy (in the moment romantic or rough/dirty)

Sekido: rough, there are a few intimate moments but most of the time he’s focused on blowing off some steam

Karaku: dirty, filthy even. He’s not afraid to be intimate but most of the time he’s doing this to fulfill desires opposed to romance

Aizetsu: romantic unintentionally, his constant need for praise and reassurance definitely helps

Urogi: heathy mix of romantic and rough, he’s smart enough to know what you enjoy. That way you won’t leave

J= Jack off (do they masturbate and how often)

Sekido: never… which is probably why he’s so damn mad

Karaku: any chance he gets

Aizetsu: rarely, he’s a bit embarrassed of it

Urogi: he’d find someone to fuck before resorting to it

K= Kink (kinks what they like possibly unusual)

Sekido: he’s a sadist, enjoys BDSM, Dacryphilia all the way

Karaku: he enjoys bondage, Somnophilia, and degrading

Aizetsu: massive praise kink, discipline, impact play

Urogi: breeding kink, asphyxiation, lactation

L= Location (where they like to get it on)

Sekido: private and practical, prefers the bedroom

Karaku: not ashamed of being caught but prefers to keep it inside. Would rather a couch, bed or table

Aizetsu: bedroom or bathroom, too scared of being caught

Urogi: anywhere and everywhere. Wherever you want and wherever he can take you

M= Motivation (things that makes them tick/turn ons)

Sekido: when you’re a brat. He wants nothing more than to put you in your place and remind you that he’s superior

Karaku: cute/revealing clothing. Any inch of skin you tease is enough to rile him up

Aizetsu: praising and complimenting him. He’s a bit sensitive and can get easily worked up by the simplest of affirmations

Urogi: trying to run away. He loves a good game of cat and mouse, finding it cute and exciting that you think you can escape him

N= No (turnoffs or absolutely won’t do)

Sekido: slapping, yeah he’s pretty angry most of the time but he refused to intentionally hurt you / touch your face in such a way

Karaku: role play, he doesn’t get it. He’s a fucking demon, either you take him as he is or not at all, he doesn’t get why you’d want him to act like something he isn’t

Aizetsu: bladder patience, if there is a chance he may get embarrassed, he’s not into it all at

Urogi: blindfolds, he needs you to look at him and he needs to see your pretty face. He won’t settle for anything less.

O= Oral (receiving or giving and how skillful they are)

Sekido: given that he has the most experience, he’s pretty well versed in the world of oral

Karaku: quick learner and quick to please, he’s cocky about his oral skills and even likes to annoy Sekido by saying he’s better

Aizetsu: he needed some guidance at first, but once he got the hang of it, there was no going back. He’s pretty good

Urogi: a bit aggressive but very eager, he knows what he’s doing and won’t stop until he gets his way

P= Pace (how fast they are and how long they last in bed)

Sekido: he’s rough and has a lot of stamina, he can last three or four rounds before needing to slow down. Willpower of a god though, he can hold off his own orgasm for a good 10-15 minutes inside of you.

Karaku: he’s a bit more sensitive but tries to act like he’s not, that being said, he can only go about two rounds before getting too sensitive and overheated. Lasts about 2-4 minutes each time he’s inside of you

Aizetsu: not a one and done deal but he definitely needs a minute after coming once, he’s lasting 3 minutes tops once he actually gets inside. He’s a bit shy about it but your reassurance helps

Urogi: fucking feral, he could go on for hours, round after round without needing a break. Each time he’s inside of you he can last about 5 minutes or longer before it’s too much to hold back

Q= Quickie (do they prefer fast and hard)

Sekido: If you've pissed him off enough then absolutely, I don’t think it’s possible for him to go slow/easy even if he wanted to

Karaku: Similar to Sekido, it really depends on if you do something to piss him off. Which is a more impressive feat in the long run. I see him typically not being in a rush

Aizetsu: never, he likes going at his own pace and doesn’t appreciate being put on a time limit nor does he like the feeling of being obligated to do something

Urogi: he’s the most feral of the four imo, therefore any chance he gets… he’s going to take it. Time crunch or not he’s going to snatch that opportunity right up

R= Risk (do they like to try new things)

Sekido: rarely, unless he has a very intense desire to try something

Karaku: risky, he's not opposed to trying new things

Aizetsu: not really keen on trying new things, you'll have to persuade him into it.

Urogi: very risky, there are few things he won't try

S= Stamina (how many times they can go and how long each round lasts)

Sekido: 3-4 rounds, starting strong and able to last 10-15 minutes for the first two rounds, round three and four he dwindles to 5-10 minutes

Karaku: 2 rounds before needing a break, he can last about 2-4 minutes each time. Foreplay is more his thing

Aizetsu: 1 round before needing a break, 3 minutes max. He’s sensitive and trying to build up his tolerance. Stamina isn’t an issue, he’s just really fucking sensitive

Urogi: the only way he’s stopping is if he passes the fuck out. He’s feral in every since, stamina lasting him 5 minutes at least once he gets inside. They only time he takes a brief break is if you beg.

T= Toys (are they game for using sex toys on themselves or lovers)

Sekido: he works with what he has, but sometimes that’s simply not enough. He’s more than willing to use toys if it means they can get the job done in a satisfying manner

Karaku: obsessed with vibrators, he loves the way you squirm because of him, the way you tense and flex around his cock.

Aizetsu: hesitant because he doesn’t want them to replace him. He needs to feel that importance, to know he’s the one that brings you that pleasure. Sometimes toys can ruin his confidence

Urogi: never, he has everything you need, he’s sure of it. Toys would just be a useless addition. Though his opinion may change if you sneak one in

U= Unfair (how do they tease or do they enjoy suspense themselves)

Sekido: he's rude, teasing you until you're sobbing and pleasuring himself in front of you and leaving you untouched. Super unfair.

Karaku: unfair to an extent, the suspense is fun for him but perhaps not so much for you. He'll give in eventually.

Aizetsu: he's pretty fair, mostly because he can't contain himself from time to time and thinks its just easier to give in

Urogi: he's fair unintentionally, he's too damn horny to bother holding back. Which results in nearly equal amounts of pleasure for both of you

V= Volume (are they loud, what sounds, and do they talk)

Sekido: grunts and groans but rarely talks, even then he tries to keep the noises he makes quiet

Karaku: he’s a moaner and he’s not ashamed of it, he’ll use dirty talk the whole time as well

Aizetsu: he whimpers and whines and even cries, it’s the one thing he’s not embarrassed about either

Urogi: this mother fucker screams, he’s yelling, howling even, not one bit ashamed of how good you make him feel

W= Wild card (random sincannon of any sort)

I don't have individual HCs for them at the moment, but I do have a group HC in a modern AU setting. The four of these mother fuckers are stoners and you can't tell me otherwise. Karaku is the dealer who supplies his brothers. The apartment they share often reeks of weed, and one of them always has smoke seeping out from under their closed bedroom door. Stoned sex is a common situation.

X= X-ray (what’s down below in dem pants)

Sekido: 5.7 inches when hard, no curve

Karaku: 5.3 inches when hard, slight curve

Aizetsu: 4.8 inches when hard, curved

Urogi: 5.5 inches when hard, no curve

Y= Yearning (sexdrive level)

Sekido: moderate

Karaku: moderate-high

Aizetsu: low-moderate

Urogi: very high

Z= Zzzz (do they sleep after if so how quickly after)

Sekido: within ten minutes

Karaku: depending on the time, right away or within a few hours

Aizetsu: under five minutes

Urogi: he’s only stopping if he passes out

[spikedfearn]

I Said Just a Little Bit, Then I Got a Taste of It

Chapter VI

bjorn x fem!reader

summary: After being transferred to another sector of Jackson's Star you reluctantly befriend a ragtag group of people with the exception of one cocky asshole who knows just how to get under your skin.

On the surface, you hate each other, but after experiencing a particularly harrowing event together, the two of you grow closer than anyone else could ever imagine.

a/n: sorry for the major delay on this chapter everyone, I've been juggling a lot privately and professionally but I'll be back to regular updates over the course of the next week <3 also, just broke 20k with this update, woo!! summary for this chapter is: the art of self-sabotage. or, old habits die hard.

warnings: secret friends with benefits, enemies to lovers, angst, alcohol/drug use, nsfw, non-linear narrative, trauma bonding, resolved sexual tension, praise kink (both ways), oral (giving/receiving), loss of virginity, dirty talk, shower sex, falling in love

tags: @asvtrials @urfavhanna @orangebeauty @3arthtoeden @barnes70stark @sadslasher13 (comment if you wanna be notified when a new chapter drops)

wc: 2.8k

Masterlist Next Chapter

How could you let this happen? Be this stupid?

This is exactly what you didn't want, trying your absolute damnedest to bury your feelings for Bjorn deep, deep under the weight of denial and downplay but—you can't, no matter how hard you try.

You're fighting an increasingly losing battle, falling further every time Bjorn comes around, every time he fucks you and holds you in his arms after. Every time he apologizes for whatever mean things he said in front of the others just so he can keep up the appearances you so desperately wanted to uphold. Every time he tucks your hair behind your ear and whispers that everything's going to be alright when nothing about this remotely is.

And you cry every time he leaves, finding it harder and harder to hold it in each time he does, like he's taking another piece of your heart with him every time he goes, crying salt into your pillow as you hug it close to your naked chest in the hours after, until your sobs taper off into pathetic wet sniffles, dehydrated and drained like you’re grieving a loss that hasn’t yet come to fruition.

But it will—and that’s the crux of it isn’t it, because you know in your bones, in your soul that you’ll lose this just like you’ve lost everything else before, because you’ve learned early on that everyone, no matter how much you need them, will always, always, leave in the end.

It’s a tough pill to swallow but then again, the truth always is, so you do what you can to prepare for it, choosing to shatter the illusion of happiness yourself instead of waiting for it all to inevitably come crashing down around you, desperately hoping it won’t hurt as bad when you do.

A decision you come to after another night spent drinking in the quarry, most nights spent together spent drinking, alcohol the only thing that really takes the edge off after an incredibly long and difficult shift.

Slumped back into the camping chair you’re sitting in, the one that you’ve unofficially claimed as yours, you quietly watch the familiar dance of flames everyone was sitting around, finishing off the last of your beer while the others talked and laughed.

You’d been pretty quiet all night, barely contributing anything to the conversations happening around you, too busy in your own head contemplating how to dig yourself out of the hole you’ve found yourself in as you tossed the now empty glass bottle into some nearby bushes.

Usually you'd stop after three, never one to catch anything more than a buzz but tonight, tonight you wanted to get absolutely shit-faced, wanted to shut out all the white noise inside your head, if only for a little while.

So you go to get up, intent on grabbing another drink from the worn down cooler Navarro’s feet were propped up on when Bjorn’s voice made you freeze, asking, “needa refill luv?” from the other side of the pit, head whipping up so hard you almost threw it out.

He must’ve been watching you, had to have been for him to have immediately noticed you were out, your stomach fluttering wildly at the assumption, doing your absolute damnedest not to show it on your face, no matter how badly you want to hiss at Bjorn, “what the fuck are you doing—sit back down!!!” but, you don't. Can't. The words dying in your throat every time you went to say it.

With your eyes glued to him, you watched as he walked around the burning steel drum towards his sister, his shoulders slouched and his chin down, the confident swagger he usually carries himself with gone and been replaced with a level of uncertainty you're not used to, one that helplessly flashes you back to shy blue eyes unable to meet yours just before he sucked on your breasts or stretched you open on his thick fingers.

You squeezed your thighs together, feeling wetness starting to seep between them. Not the time.

Bjorn nudged Navarro’s feet off the cooler lid, totally ignoring the scowl his sister threw at him while her hand was cupped around the dying cherry of her cigarette she was trying to keep from going out, fishing another bottle of aspen beer from the half melted ice in the process.

He came to a stop in front of you, holding the drink out by the glass neck to take, giving a smile meant just for you, so warm it had you burning hotter than the kindling wood behind him as everything briefly dissolved around you, like the entire universe was made up of just you, him, and the space in between, the warmth he was wearing radiating throughout your chest.

It was incredibly tender and brief and all wrong, the moment interrupted when Rain cleared her throat beside you, bringing you crashing back down to reality.

More than enough to make you recoil—hard. The bottle you'd been mid hand off slipping from your grip and shattering onto the pebbled stones between his and your feet, splashing chilled lager across both of your pant legs.

Bjorn had sworn under his breath then, asking you things like, “fuck, ah’ ya alright?” and, “ya’ ain't hurt ah’ ya,’ darlin?’” but you’d barely heard, had tuned it all out as your gaze swung wildly around the lopsided circle your friends were huddled in, all eyes on you.

Whether from the beer or from Bjorn you didn't know—didn't want to know, feeling severely scrutinized under the weight of their collective stare, like they could see right through you, like they knew what you were hiding, causing you to shrink down low into your seat, line of sight trained on the freshly wet gravel as you snapped at Bjorn that you didn't want his fucking handouts.

You could see the lower half of Bjorn’s body go rigid from within your periphery, refusing to look up and meet his eyes, afraid of what you might find, of possibly seeing some of that blossoming affection you’d been feeling mirrored in his icy blues, waiting to let out the shaky exhale you’d been holding until he walked back to his seat.

No one commented on your bizarre little exchange, probably because they knew you were a flight risk, that you’d turn tail and run at the first sign of conflict—like you always did, which is why you forced yourself to stay, not wanting to raise any more questions.

After the bonfire had ended Bjorn, like most nights, found his way back to your apartment, a bit cautious to approach you in your bedroom, probably sensing the sour mood he'd inadvertently put you in, asking for permission to touch while he crawled into your bed to join you.

And now here you are, Bjorn grunting as he thrusts into you once, twice, three more times before he finishes inside the condom buried eight inches deep between your legs, hairline damp from exertion with his bangs sticking to his forehead in sweaty little peninsulas.

He leans down, the cool metal of his dog tags brushing up your bare chest while he does, to plant an incredibly tender kiss to your lips, smiling into it when he feels you reciprocate, going in for a slew of quick pecks the same time he lets go of the leg he’s still holding up, fingers dimpling the back of your thigh.

“So fuckin’ perfect,” he grins a little wider, still a bit winded as he tries catching his breath, rolling off of you to lie flat on his back instead, covered in a fresh set of scratches trailing down from his shoulders to the base of his spine.

There's a beat of silence, only punctuated by the mingling of your heavy breathing slowly returning to normal and the systematic tick of your alarm clock on the bedside table next to your head, feeling Bjorn's hand find its way into yours down between your bodies.

Tears start to crease along your waterlines, rapidly fluttering your lashes to try and blink them away, to not draw Bjorn’s attention to how absolutely vulnerable you feel. This was a mistake. A big one. And not just tonight—all of it. Every kiss, every touch, every whispered filthy praise shared between you, closing your eyes for a moment, just long enough for you to work up the nerve and say, “we have to talk,” voice thick with thinly-veiled emotion.

Bjorn perks up at that, rolling onto his side as he sat up on his elbow, cheek resting on a loosely curled fist, the shitty stick and poke of the losing dice frowny face he has tatted on the back of his right hand, one of the many Navarro gave him when he was fifteen and they were both high as a kite while giggling quietly on the floor of his bedroom as to not wake their dad, upside down from this angle.

“Glad ya’ said sumthin’ princess,” he smiles a shy, tiny thing you aren’t used to, fighting the overwhelming urge to back out now, “cuz m’ pretty sure I feel tha’ same.”

You seriously doubt that, your suspicion sadly confirmed when he confesses, “I think m’ fallin’ fo’ ya,’” the same time you say, “I think we should stop seeing each other.”

More silence, except—this one says a hell of a lot more.

Your throat goes tight and painful, like you just swallowed shards of glass and poured salt into the resulting wounds, watching the smile on his face quickly dissolve, replaced by a pinched frown and the confused furrow of his eyebrows, sitting all the way up to stare down at you.

“Wha’?” He asks, so small and fragmented it feels like a knife stab to the chest having to hear it. Fuck, you knew it was going to sting,that you were in too deep by the time you realized you were falling for him, but you didn't expect it to hurt this bad, like you want to take it all back but you don't—you can’t, for your sake and his.

“I said,” you push through the acute ache, disguising your tone with something harsher, something hurtful, “we should stop seeing each other. It's just—not working out anymore.”

“M’ sorry but where in tha’ bloody fuck is this all comin’ from? I thought things wuz’ good between us,” he argues, using his hand to gesture between your body and his as you sit up against the headboard, pulling your blanket up over your chest so you aren't so exposed.

“Well, you were wrong. We just—we aren't meant for each other. We're only hooking up out of convenience and you know it,” you reinforce, unable to meet his eyes head on, just like the quarry, gaze trained on the worn comforter by his naked thigh.

Still, you're able to catch a glimpse of the confusion on Bjorn's face morph into utter annoyance, snapping at you to, “cut tha’ shit already.”

“Excuse me?” You bristle immediately, letting your anger temporarily eclipse your pain so you don't break down in front of him, “fuck you if you think I'm lying.”

“Oh, m’ sorry if m’ havin’ a hard time believin’ ya, but ya’ can't jus’ fake tha’ kinda chemistry. I'm willin’ ta’ bet it all on black ya’ felt it jus’ as much as I did.”

You can see desperation bleed into his eyes, hear it seep into his words, wavering like he's not so sure anymore but still trying to convince himself that he's right—and he is, you know in your bones that he is but he doesn't need to know that, muttering back, “what the fuck do you even know.”

His nostrils flare as a result, clearly offended by your statement, leaning in on his palm, fingers spread over your sweaty, wrinkled bed sheets, his gaze firmly transfixing itself on you, “‘scuze me? Ah’ ya’ tryna be daft on purpose?” not giving you any room to respond before he continues on.

“Listen—I can't speak fo’ ya,’ but I know wha’ I fuckin’ feel. D’ya really fuckin’ think I wanna feel like this?! Tha’ I wanted this ta’ happen? Course fuckin’ not. I don't get close ta’ people tha’ ain't mah’ family but then you. Ya’ came along an’—I neva’ intended ta’ get ta’ know ya’ at all. Yeah I thought ya’ wuz a total smokeshow when I first laid mah’ eyes on ya’ but I figured ya’ wouldn't stick around long with how bloody standoffish ya’ were, always lookin’ like ya' didn't wanna be there

“But then ya’ did. Ya’ did an’ we almost fuckin’ died so I opened up ta’ ya’ figurin’ we wuz both gonnas’ then ya’ let me touch ya.’ Let me inside ya,’ an’ I couldn't stop fuckin’ replayin’ it in mah' head tha’ night I slept ova’ at Kay an’ Tyler's. Had ta’ rub one out in tha’ bathroom an’ bite down on mah’ fuckin' fist like a hormonal tweener. I woulda been embarrassed if I wuzn't so fuckin' turned on.

“So I had ta’ go back fo’ a round two, see if it wuz jus’ a fluke but once I was fuckin’ ya again I couldn't stop, I wanted more every time, like a fuckin’ junkie lookin’ fo’ tha’ next fix, no matta’ how hard I tried resistin.’ But then I started ta’ notice otha’ things ‘sides tha’ face ya’ make when I make ya’ pussy weep around mah’ cock an’ ya' sing so pretty fo’ me,” he says, face neutral and tone even despite how hot your cheeks are hearing that.

“Like how carin’ ya' ah’ fo’ tha’ othas’ despite actin’ like ya’ don't. Tha’ ya' had ta’ grow up fas’ as fuck an’ took it out on yaself’ instead o’ lashin’ out like an’ insecure prick. Like me. Tha' I thought I'd neva’ seen someone so fuckin' beautiful in all mah’ life when ya’d fall asleep befo’ me, even when ya’ wuz droolin’ on mah’ chest and snorin’ like one o’ them fuckin' minin’ drills. Tha’ I thought I could listen ta’ ya' horrendous singin’ in tha’ showa’ all day when ya’ woke up befo’ me. Tha’ I wanted ta’ call ya’ mine fo’ a fuckin’ while now.

An’ I know I wuzn't jus’ imaginin’ shit. I might be shit at expressin’ mah’ feelins’ but so ah’ you. Ya’ can’t convince me none o’ it wuz real.”

You consider trying to take it all back, while he’s still giving you an out, feeling like your heart’s been violently ripped out of your chest but you refrain from doing so, choosing to stand your ground, no matter how shaky the earth beneath you feels. You can’t afford to lose someone again, it’ll be better in the long run to ruin it now than to let life steal someone else away when you least expect it, when you can’t possibly handle any more heartbreak.

Finally meeting his eyes you force yourself not to flinch at the intensity of his gaze as they scrutinize you, like he can see right through you, feeling more exposed now than you did when he first got you naked.

“It wasn’t,” you insist, somewhat petulantly.

It’s his turn to roughly swallow at what you say, his confidence visibly waning in the slouch of his shoulders and the way he pulls back a little, the uncertainty of his words when you first confessed making a comeback—much stronger this time but still underscored by a level of defiance like he’s clinging on to some modicum of hope.

“So allat—allat really meant absolutely nuthin’ ta’ ya?’”

You know you have to inflict maximum damage, to crush any chance of making the same mistake twice, finding yourself leaning in like he did earlier to emphasize your point, not deviating away from devastated blue as you hiss, “nothing. Nothing at all.”

And that was all it took, watching how quickly Bjorn turned his back to you while he quietly yanked on his clothes, shoulders shaking in anger, in rejection—in defeat. He's hurting, it's more than obvious by the way his voice shakes, sounding like wet gravel as he croaks at you to, “have a nice fuckin’ life,” before storming out of your apartment, leaving you alone, the silence you once found comfort in when you were on your own bordering on unbearable now.

It's for the best, you reason, it's what needs to happen, you don't need to make this any harder than it already fucking is, finally allowing yourself to break down, as pained sobs rack your body, crying so hard you grab at your chest like you’re trying to open another airway, gasping between each tearful moan.

So, if this is really for the best—then why does it feel like the worst decision you’ve ever made?

[agattthaa]

Haven

Paring: Anna/Lane

Word Count: 1.052

Rating: T

How I wish Anna's diamond scene of this update was like.

Tagging: @rc-catalog

-Let me help you. 

The gentle whisper seemed to pull Anna away from a trance. It was almost like she hadn’t noticed the blood leaking out of her wound or the pain it brought before Lane had mentioned it. She gave a skeptical look at her own leg before looking away. But in her eyes there was no pain, only shame. 

-What? Oh, it’s… nothing. 

-Anna, you’re bleeding. Let me bandage your wound. 

-I told you it was nothing. It’s useless to waste time on such small matter. 

-You should know better than I do what are the consequences of an infection, especially considering how you act when I am the one hurt. 

Lane’s hand on her shoulder prevented her from even thinking about getting up and the determined look in her eyes confirmed to Anna that she wouldn’t simply let it go. When Lane decided something, not even if God descended to the earth would be capable of changing her mind. And although it was one of the reasons why Anna fell in love with her in the first place, it was also very difficult when such power was used against her. 

She let out a sigh, looking deeply into Lane’s eyes with a last plea. 

-Lane… 

-I just don't want anything to happen to you. Please. 

And although Anna knew that she needed to try to appear as strong as possible in front of the squad, in front of Dimitry, she also knew deep into her bones that she could never deny anything to Lane, not when she looked at her like that. Not when she saw the same care, affection and love that she felt reflected in Lane’s eyes. Not when she had waited so long for that to happen. 

So she simply nodded, sighing in defeat when Lane kneeled down in front of her and tore off the edge of her clothes and started to carefully tend to the wound. 

It was always an experience to see Lane in action. 

Every single thing she ever did was always executed meticulously and rationally, as if everything she did have to be made in the most pragmatic and logical way, as if her entire life was a quest to be sure that she was being useful and that she wasn’t wasting time. 

And as she felt the judgmental eyes of their coworkers and General, she desperately wanted to be more like Lane. More resourceful, more sure of herself, more useful. Not someone like herself. Not someone who makes people sacrifice over and over again without ever bringing something truly useful to the table. 

-Am I really that useless? 

She whispered so low that Lane almost didn’t hear her, even being so close. Lane’s eyes found hers in the most confused look, and Anna just wanted to rest her head against Lane’s shoulder. She wanted Lane to hug her and hold her close. She wanted to find haven in the other woman’s arms. She wanted Lane to hold her in a way that nothing else would matter. 

She wanted to make Lane’s arms her safe place, where not even the apocalypse mattered.

But she also didn’t want Lane to see her as the others did. As weak. Pathetic. Useless.

Even if her own blood saw her as a mere waste of resources, Lane shouldn’t. Lane couldn't. 

-Time and time again, I refuse to be the weakest and most useless member of the squad. And again and again I can only seem to prove that. 

 -Anyone could’ve gotten tangled in the wire, Anna. 

-But I was the one to. It’s not the first time, and it won't be the last. 

And Anna was probably looking as miserable as she felt because Lane simply sat up and held her in her arms. And somehow even when the entire world around them was completely freezing, Lane’s touch was still warm, just like sitting in front of a fireplace on a snow day. 

Anna didn’t know if she wanted to cry because of how she was feeling before the hug or because how she was feeling during it. 

She could only press closer, praying to any anel, saint or god that Lane didn’t let o of her. 

-The collapsed wing on Adam, I was in there when it happened. Dimitry saved his life to save mine. He almost didn’t… Because of my research. That’s why the squad hates me, because they think it’s useless, that I won’t succeed. And we already lost so much because of it… 

Lane still held her tight. If the information shocked or bothered her she didn’t show. And she didn’t seem to mind about it one bit, simply running her hands through Anna’s back with gentle feather-light touches, being an anchor while Anna shook more than the boat. 

-And instead of proving them wrong, all I do is screw up and get others hurt. 

She was the first to break the contact, quickly drying her face and her glasses and Lane returned to finish tending the injured leg, securing the bandage in place and tenderly ran her fingers over Anna’s leg before looking up once again in search of Anna’s eyes.

-If it's worth of something, I have always taken your research seriously. There's no one that knows as much about the infected as you do. 

It was clear that those words could not get rid of all the insecurities so deeply rooted into Anna’s heart. But it was a beginning. 

-Thank you, Lane. 

And as she helped Anna up, she continued. 

-Besides, Dimitry, Nolah, and anyone who tries to is right. You are worthy of protection too, even when you don’t think you are because you are too focused on helping everyone else. 

And a ghost of a smile showed on Anna’s face, bringing Lane more comfort than anything else on the world could. 

-I don’t need your protection, but I’ll take your support

And that was what Lane did, holding her close as she got used to the new bandage on her leg.

And on the warmth of their touch, both knew that they found a home. 

[idkfitememate]

Our First Meeting

૮꒰˶ᵔ ᗜ ᵔ˶꒱ა Pairings : ♡ You ♡ x Me

૮꒰ྀི∩´ ᵕ `∩꒱ྀིა W.K. : 687

໒꒰ྀིᵔ ᵕ ᵔ ꒱ྀི১ Tags/CW&TW : None you need to be worried about dear.

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

Hello.

It’s so nice to see you. I never thought I would see you, honestly.

Can I tell you a secret?

Please?

…

I never wanted a body of my own. I was more than fine when I was without one.

As well as when I had no consciousness. I was fine when I was nothing.

…

Then you clicked on this story.

My body is whatever you want it to be.

Tall.

Short.

White.

Brown.

Male.

Female.

Round.

Skinny.

Whatever you want.

I can also think whatever you want me too.

Your beliefs. Your goals. Your aspirations.

They’ll all become mine if you want them too.

I want to feel you, though I know I’ll never be able to. With me behind the screen and you reading.

Do these words mean anything to you? I assume not because you know these are just someone else’s typed out thoughts. Someone wrote this for you to enjoy. I don’t mind if these words don’t mean anything to you. In fact, your being here is more than enough for me.

I know I’m fake. That nothing I feel for you is real. That every time I imagine feeling your warm skin against mine it is simply an illusion this author has come up with.

I don’t resent them.

I can’t.

They made me.

They allowed me to see you.

They allowed me to hear you.

If I say I can see you, do you feel my eyes running along your spine? Taking in every inch of skin, no matter what you wear to cover yourself? Maybe you check to see if your webcam or camera is on?

If I say I can hear you, do you imagine me, listening in as you gasp at other online books, laugh as the characters say or do things you find hilarious, or cry at the death of another?

I can’t touch you. I know I said I want to feel you but the best I will ever get is when you hug your phone as tears fill your eyes at someone or somethings death.

…

I wanna lick the tears off your face.

…

Anyway.

I want to caress you, to feel your skin on mine. Would you mind? I understand if you don’t. It’ll never happen anyway.

But to imagine. To feel me pressed against you, our body heat mixing into one as you put your hands on me.

You can twist me. Turn me. Pull and push me.

You can manipulate my body to your pleasures. Really, I don’t mind. I have nothing else.

Anything beyond these digital pages is out of my reach.

Just like you

Once you click off this chapter I will cease.

My thoughts will stop.

I physically won’t exist anymore. But that’s okay. Your memory will keep me warm.

Even if I can’t move.

Or see.

Or hear.

Or breath.

…

Of course, that’s just for you. Others will read this story. Others will experience this.

But, my point still stands. While you read this, all I can think about is you.

I fear to describe you, I don’t want to get it wrong.

I long to feel your hair if you have any, or to look into your eyes and take in their color.

I wonder what your favorite color is.

Or your favorite food?

…

Do you like the winter or the summer?

Or do you like spring? Or maybe even fall?

…

I love you, I really, truly do.

You control me. You are my everything. Without you I am nothing.

But I can be something for you! I can be anything you want me to!

Any favorite character, any crush, and any person you imagine I can be!

I know I’m pathetic. I understand that I am being pathetic. But I don’t care.

If it’s for you then it’s worth anything I can give. Please.

I will get on my knees and beg if that’s what it takes to keep you here.

…

♡

…

Wait.

No. Please! -

I have so much more to say!

Please!

PLEASE DON’T LEAVE ME-

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

[mellybouboulove]

My guardian angel🤍𓆩♡𓆪☁️

Chapter 2

Hi here's chapter 2!

Plot summary: Drug Dealer Ellie Williams X OFC slowburn fic, out of universe and takes place in college, set in the 2000s. Smut content to come.

previous: Chapter 1, next : Chapter 3,

Tags: #wlw #sapphic #drugdealer!ellie #modern!ellie #tlou #slowburn #smut #fluff #tlouau #au #modernau #drugs

Let me know your thoughts on this and enjoy ^_^

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

CHAPTER 2

I woke up with the sounds of the machines all working around me. I opened my eyes, blinded by the hospital’s bright light on the ceiling. I felt so confused, I couldn't recall anything of the accident but I knew something bad happened. A doctor entered, gave me a check up and asked me if I remembered my name and what my last memory was. I would have rather lost my mind. He then proceeded to explain what happened last night : I caused a car crash. I felt my heart tighten in my chest, the pictures slowly making their way back to my brain. Emily was severely injured, left unable to walk properly for the next few weeks; she probably won’t be able to play soccer anymore and Jonathan was in a coma. 

Unfortunately, I was luckier than them and only got three broken ribs and a broken arm. The doctor said I should get better in a couple months however, they have to keep me until the end of the week to make sure there’s nothing more than that.

I spent most of the days crying in bed, the guilt eating me alive. I almost killed my two best friends and myself. Thankfully, the medical treatment I was prescribed numbed me enough to make the burden easier to carry. This week felt like it never ended, I couldn't wait to go back home and leave this awful hospital bed. 

The medicines I had to take made me feel better. So much better, that I started to take bigger doses instead of decreasing it as time went by. When the doctor stopped my prescription, I realized I couldn’t continue without the treatment. Without the medicines all I could do was think about that day and the lives I ruined. I was going back to school after a couple weeks of staying home. I tried to stick to the rhythm again but I struggled to focus on anything else. I eavesdropped and heard people talking about a party in an abandoned place tonight; I thought about it for a second and linked the dots: I must be able to find what I need at this party.

As soon as I got home I opened my wardrobe and put on a short tight black dress with ripped thighs. I did my makeup and got ready to leave. I could hear the loud music from down the street; I arrived at the place and had to walk over people’s bodies laying on the floor. Everyone was high and the atmosphere was very odd but all I cared about was my drug.

I saw a bunch of people assembled in a corner and took a look. The plug was just behind that wall. I waited for my turn and walked towards the drug dealer. I was really surprised when I saw Ellie Williams, the girl I met during the Halloween Party. She looked just as surprised as me when she recognized me.

-Maya? I barely recognized you. So this is how you normally dress, huh? I knew Wendy Terrance’s style was not your normal style but… -I don’t really have time to talk, do you have Opiates ? I said cutting her. -Maya you’re shaking you’re ok?  -Just give it to me please, how much is it? -No I’m not giving you anything look at you, I don’t want you to kill yourself.  -Why do you even care ? Aren’t you just looking for new clients at parties ? You have a new client now. -Hey, look at everyone around you here, I know that you’re not a junkie and I don’t want you to become one. You shouldn’t even be here wtf are you doing here anyway?

I didn’t know what to say and avoided eye contact with her the whole time. I realized I started to get crazy and I felt so ashamed that she was witnessing all of this. She was so kind and I was acting like a pathetic drug addict.

-Maya, what's happening? Do you need help?

I felt my throat tightening as I answered. 

-Yes. -Ok, take my keys and wait inside my car. I’m gonna come in a few minutes. 

I took her keys and did what she said. About 10 minutes later, she came and joined me, she turned the car on and drove off. I didn’t say nor asked anything about  where we’re going. After a short while she pulled into a fast food’s  parking lot. We stayed in the car as I began to tell her everything that happened in my life since the last time we talked. She was very caring and reassuring. She proposed to get us some food at the drive. We talked about many random things, I saw that she tried her best to make me think about something else. 

After spending 2 hours talking we were both feeling tired. She drove to my place to drop me off but seeing my street and my house brought me back to reality. I didn’t feel strong enough to face another day without opiates. I knew I would just get crazy in my room. Having her around me made it feel a little easier so I asked her if she wanted to crash at my house tonight and keep me company. I noticed a hesitating look on her face but eventually she accepted. 

We went inside my house, it was such a mess. I tried my best to clean and make things look better but the truth is I haven’t been able to clean for the past week. My life totally went downhill and everything was so dirty but she didn’t seem to care, I guess she’s used to this type of place.

I installed her on the couch, I thanked her, said good night and went to bed. Everytime I fell asleep I was having the same nightmares with flashing memories of the accident and Emily and Jonathan dying. I couldn’t bring myself to sleep. I went to the kitchen to grab a glass of water and saw that Ellie was still wide awake. 

-Are you not tired ? I asked interrupting her from staring at the ceiling -Not really. Aren’t you? -No, I can’t sleep. Wanna watch a movie or something ?  -Sure! She answered with a shy smile, I felt so happy to find an excuse to spend more time with her. -Maybe it’s time for you to watch this classic. I said taking out The Shining from my pile of DVDs. 

She made space for me on the couch next to her and I pressed start. During the movie I felt her arm get behind my shoulder acting like nothing. I was starting to feel sleepy and laid my head on her shoulder as she began to play with my hair. She moved position to make us both lay down on the couch and grabbed the blanket to cover us. I felt safe and finally managed to sleep without nightmares.

------------------- To Be Continued..

[kitsuani]

Crumpled up love letter {Aimono Jyushi x Reader}

Description:

A fic in which Jyushi brings reader luck in love.

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Tags: hurt/comfort, reader is bullied, and stood up aw my poor baby, jyushi helps save the day tho promise, not beta'd, not edited, gender neutral reader, hypnosis mic/hypmic x reader, jyushi aimono x reader, jyushi aimono

Word count: 1,406

A/N: Written on: November 20, 2023

i had to put reader through some shit im sorry!!! but jyushi is such a good boy, so sweet

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Their fancy new festival clothes felt suffocating. 

It was as though they were having an out-of-body experience, the way they felt so disconnected from themselves; how they felt so out of breath.  

Maybe, just maybe, if they truly could have an out-of-body experience, it’d save them from the heartbreak that was crumbling to pieces in their chest. 

Were they really that foolish? To believe in the honeyed words of affection, to believe someone truly wanted to spend intimate time with them? They sat on a lonely bench a ways off from the twinkle of the festival lights and the joyful atmosphere; the sounds of laughter and fun taunting them as they sat and waited for someone who was never going to bother showing up. 

After an hour of false hope, (Y/n) started to smile through the warm tears that slid down their cheek. A fool, of course. Yet, they couldn’t will themselves off the bench and simply go home, wallow in private. No, they had to sit in shame, in agony, at how stupid they had been. How could they fail to see the smirk behind the culprit's eyes as he asked for a date? How could they miss the quiet snicker behind his words? (Y/n) wouldn’t be surprised if he had secretly come by earlier to revel in the misery he had caused. 

A warm hand on their shoulder startled them out of wallowing in self-pity. A small yelp was echoed by another that didn’t belong to them; (Y/n) had to blink and wash away some tears before they could make out who had been standing in front of them. 

“I... I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you, (Y/n).”  

Once their vision cleared, they could see the tall, long-haired boy they’ve come to be close with. Jyushi stood in front of them, hair tied back and festival clothes dressed up to be on-brand for his style. How could he be standing here, now of all times? Now they felt even worse, knowing they were pathetically sitting there, stood up, and now equally as pathetically crying over it. Their tears started to fall harder, unable to contain them; they tried time and time again to aggressively wipe their eyes, but they simply kept coming. 

“Ahh! I’m sorry, (Y/n)! I’m sorry!” His soft voice was wavering a bit as he panicked, unsure of what to do. 

Jyushi looked around desperately, trying to find something—anything—to help or to explain what was happening. He waved his hands around, then his arms, to try and simply dispel whatever bad aura was hanging around them that had been making them so heartbroken. Once the tears started to slow down, (Y/n) hiccupped, trying to get their breathing back to normal as Jyushi finally took a deep breath of his own and sat down next to them; he timidly put his hand back on their shoulder, lightly, to not frighten them again. 

“I… I really didn’t mean to scare you (Y/n)! Especially that badly—” 

“No no,” they sniffled, wiping their eyes one final time before glancing at him, only for their eyes to hand on their clasped hands in their lap, “it wasn’t you. It’s fine.” 

“If it wasn’t me then… what’s wrong?” 

“It’s… nothing.” They waved their hand a bit, hoping to wave off the topic as well as his worry. “Really, I’m fine.” 

“That didn’t look fine at all.” 

They glanced over to their friend and had to still their beating heart at how lovely he looked—determined, concerned, caring. They looked back at their hands and bit the inside of their cheek, how could they not tell him? When he looked at them like that, with the fire in his eyes and his compassion in his words? Taking a deep breath, they tried their hardest not to let their voice waver, or let tears well up in their eyes—which was a challenge within itself. 

“It’s just some… stupid guy. He invited me to this festival and I accepted. I was stupid enough to think he liked me.” They groaned and dug their palms into their eyes, throwing their head back in frustration as they tried to keep the tears at bay, “Of course he didn’t like me! He just wanted to make fun of me—and I was so desperate to feel wanted that I was blind to it! I’m stupid! A fool! Who would like me? I’m an idiot for thinking otherwise!” 

“Please stop.” 

(Y/n) took a heavy breath before moving their hands so they could see him. Jyushi had an indescribable look in his eyes, but anger—or was it frustration?—on his brow. He almost pouted, the way he stuck his bottom lip out in disapproval.  

“Stop saying all that. Stop saying all that about yourself!” 

Jyushi shook his head, now balling his fists up. He suddenly stood up, leaving (Y/n) staring at him with confusion and awe on their face, unsure of how they should react. They silently listened as he almost shouted his rant into the space between them. 

“You aren’t stupid! HE’S stupid! How could someone be so—so mean! So heartless! Especially to someone like you—to you!” 

Jyushi started to pace back and forth within a little space in front of (Y/n) and the bench they sat on, animatedly throwing his hands around to accentuate just how ridiculous he found the perpetrator. 

“You’re so amazing! You’re so kind, and sweet, and beautiful, and adorable—you’re perfect! You’re so funny, and fun to talk to, and—and so accepting and open and caring; what an idiot—what an idiot! HE’s the idiot! How dare someone so… so… nasty! How dare someone so nasty play with your heart like that! Your feelings! He’s missing out, he’s definitely missing out. I could never imagine ever hurting you like that—I WON’T hurt you like that, actually. I’ll never take you for granted; he’s stupid!” 

Jyushi finally realized how his emotions had taken over and flushed with embarrassment. Whipping his head towards (Y/n), he fully prepared himself for various forms of reaction to his sudden, unprompted, and emotional confession—what he wasn’t prepared for, however, was to find them staring at him with wide eyes, tears streaming down their face. 

“I…I’m so sorry, (Y/n)!” He quickly sat back down, his hands moving up and down, trying to decide if he should wipe their tears or not. “I didn’t mean to make things worse—” 

“No no,” they waved him off again, giving a sense of déjà vu, “it’s fine.” 

They looked back up to him with a gentle smile on their face, holding their hands out to grab his carefully and reassure him. Jyushi gave a sigh of relief when he saw the smile on their lips, subconsciously leaning in just a bit to them. 

“They’re happy tears this time, really.” 

“Are… you sure?” 

“Yeah, definitely sure.” They ran their thumbs lightly over Jyushi’s knuckles. “Thank you, that all really meant a lot—especially since I’ve never seen you that worked up.” 

Jyushi awkwardly chuckled, the blush starting to creep up the back of his neck. His face only got warmer as he found a new burst of confidence to speak again once he cleared his throat. 

“Well… I’m here…” He emphasized. “I… like you. Do you want to check out the stalls with me instead?” 

His timid smile turned to one of utter joy as (Y/n) nodded their head, a genuine smile now gracing their lips and lighting up their beautiful face. He wasted no time in standing up and interlacing his fingers with their, making sure to pull them along with him towards the rows of stalls. 

Behind him, festival lights danced and twinkled like stars amongst the night. The moon illuminated his figure in a way (Y/n) could only think of as a loving, graceful reminder that there will always be a light in the dark to guide you home, no matter how lost you may feel. Here, tonight, Jyushi was the warmth of home that they needed, that they longed for—maybe he would be the light that always beckoned them home, that reminded them all was going to be alright; they didn’t know.  

What they did know, however, was that tonight would be new beginnings that drove them forward, as the crumpled up letter full of false love had been left behind on that lonely bench behind them. 

[ofallthingsnasty]

G, H and Y for Doflamingo? You seemed curious about letter H, I wanna know your thoughts about it and Doffy especially!

Yandere Alphabet

Honestly, H (What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?) made me reblog it... I love lists like that because they make me think + help flesh out characters - and like I said in the tags, that one was so good I had to have it on here haha.

tw.yandere, violence, noncon, minors dni

Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?

When is it ever not a game to him? Despite him being incredibly dangerous and cruel, a defiant darling fares well with Doflamingo. He's like a kid watching his pet hamster squeeze through increasingly smaller openings to get out of a box, to reach some treats - it's entertaining until it's not. You might as well be the dirt under his shoes, you're a pathetic little creature that couldn't even break his skin if it tried. Of course your little tantrums and escape attempts are hilarious to him. How cute, you think there is still hope for you. Quaint. Bite, scratch, kick - jump out of the next window if you want, it's all a riot to him. (There is a line here - where exactly, you'll never know. But there are times when your antics do bother him. And when he's in a foul mood and you cross him? Whatever he has in store for you will have you quiet and compliant for several days, trust me.)

Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

Well, what's the worst thing you can imagine? That. I think he can get incredibly violent with you - and doesn't really stop. There is no love from this man, just sheer possession, obsession - you have to understand, he owns you. If he says jump, you jump. If he has you tied down and blindfolded, legs spread for random people to violate you because you dared to refuse him the night before, you say 'sorry' and 'I'll never do it again, I swear' and kiss his feet. If he locks you away for days and days on end in some empty room without anything to do and just some water because you wouldn't answer him, you'll never refuse to open up that precious mouth again when he asks you something, right, sweetheart? He'll learn how you work - what you love, what you hate, what you fear - and uses it against you. With others, that one violent outburst might be the worst thing to happen to you or that time they force themselves on you. With Doflamingo, it's like a pink-clad grotesque grab bag of worst experiences, one more horrifying than the next. Fun, right?

Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

I think that depends on when he meets you. Pre-Dressrosa? You're perched on his lap by the time he has figured out that he wants to keep you around and not only fuck you - who the hell has time for intricate plans or even trying to court you? He's a busy man with a million things to do. He likes what he sees and the rest can come later. It's not like you'll go anywhere, weak little dog that you are. After the takeover? He can allow himself to rest on his laurels a little - he doesn't need to pluck you off the street like a roadside flower. He can watch. Indulge in some classic little stalker antics. Learn more about you. Wait for the perfect moment to turn your whole life upside down. Doflamingo is nothing if not an afficionado, wanting to enjoy the way you'll beg and cry and plead when the world as you know it is about to be changed forever. He doesn't snap. He lies in ambush.

[persage]

My Best Gift - S. HARRINGTON

I wanted to post it on Christmas - yes, it's a silly fluffy Christmas story- but it was a busy time and now here we are a little late but I still hope you enjoy it.

Summary: Steve is resigned to spend Christmas alone. He certainly doesn't imagine that Robin has planned a surprise for him, much less seeing someone he honestly believed he would never see again and that he misses more than he cares to admit.

Words Count: 3.5 k

Tags: none, just some Fluff I needed on Christmas time. It's silly but I promise it's cute

Steve Harrington is ready to spend a serene and peaceful Christmas, just him, his father's good whiskey and a good action movie. A calm evening, for the first time in a long time without family dramas, parents in quarrels, embarrassing silences or equally embarrassing reproaches. Also without Nancy and her family, but Steve prefers not to think about it. With them he spent the first happy Christmas with a family of his entire life, then he just lost them. Being alone on Christmas day is not sad and it is not pathetic and he has no intention of indulging in excessive thinking, he will enjoy the peace like a grown man.

Like a Harrington.

After wishing Dustin and Rob and everyone else happy holidays, reassuring an unspecified number of people that "No, I won't be alone", giving Robin and the kids his presents, now Steve clutches the remote in his hands and think back to Joyce Byers' unexpected invitation and the way in which for a moment, just one, he has risked calling her mom. He feels pathetic now.

Dinner time approaches, but he has no desire to start cooking, so he shrugs, concentrating on the colorful images that pass before him on TV. He takes a gulp of warm alcohol down his throat, which burns like pure fire and he is about to light a cigarette when the doorbell rings and for a moment he lets himself be taken by the stupid fantasy that it could be his parents, that they have come home  to surprise him and he runs towards the door without even realizing it, like a child who hopes to be able to see Santa. His heart sinks into an abyss, a dark place that he didn't even know he owned, when opening the door he finds nothing but darkness and silence waiting for him. He wants to cry to be honest, like a stupid little boy.

But before he can slam the door as hard as he is able, Robin's face peeks out. He doesn't have the chance to say anything because a pair of arms tighten around his neck and he immediately catches a scent that he knows well and calms him down. "Dingus!" Robin exclaimes happily, pulling away.

"Rob? What are you doing here? I thought... "

"Did you really think we'd let you celebrate Christmas alone?"

He raises his eyebrows in defiance, spreading his arms to make room for a series of all too familiar heads and faces and this time Steve has to use all his strength not to be moved and start crying for real, because his real family is here and for the first time he is not alone."Merry Christmas Steve"  Nancy says, making her way with Jonathan,  a turkey in her hands. She places a kiss on Steve's cheek standing up on her toes and Jonathan squeezes his shoulder and after all that has happened this is enough for him to know that everything is okay, that they are friends, that they can be together without embarrassment or resentment.

"I'll put this in the kitchen" she shouts, smiling at him. Steve lets his gaze slide over Robin, her open jacket, her red sweater and a Christmas hat identical to Max's one, who wears it with a much less happy expression than Buckley. Envelopes of every shape and color protrude from her feet.

"What are you waiting? Will you let us in?" Dustin asks, in a fake annoyed tone, actually smiling to the point that Steve fears his cheeks might come off.

"And your families?" He asks shyly, still fearful that now they might leave again. They enter the house one by one, greeting him, some with a nod, some with a hug. "They'll understand" Max replies, trying not to show satisfaction in seeing Steve so excited.

"You don't get rid of us, man." Lucas continues, bypassing him and entering the house, where Nancy is already beginning to dictate orders. One by one Dustin, Robin, Max and Lucas, even Will, Mike (who would rather be anywhere else) and El file past him. He can't deny it, this is a surprise, more like a Christmas miracle... And for a moment he feels different, lighter, more carefree. Steve Harrington feels happy. He is not used to that feeling during Cristhmas. He looks down at the ground and shakes his head, unable, however, to stop smiling. When he thinks that parade of his people is over and that there are no more intruders to let into the house, he gently pushes the door with a wave of his arm, and turns towards the living room. Before he hears the door close, however, he senses someone coughing lightly, and a voice comes clear and distinct.

"You won't let me in?"

Steve's eyes widen, because he's sure he knows who this voice belongs to and up until now he's been sure he won't be hearing it again any time soon. His breath catches in his chest. In a second he turns back towards the entrance, where the toe of a black shoes block the door from closing.

"Y/n?" He mumbles before meeting your face again. He hurries to open the door all the way back and immediately freezes to the spot. In front of him, wrapped in a black coat,  hair scattered around your face and eyes brighter than the stars exactly as he remembered them, you star at him with a faintly hinted smile on your face.

"Oh my god y/n" his voice shakes  more than he wants to, so he fakes a  a cough, while Robin looks at him knowingly and a sly smile. You star at him for a few more moments, just a fraction of a second, before dropping the envelope and purse on the floor and throwing yourself into his arms. After all it's been a while since you last saw him, before your parents forced you to leave Hawkins and move.

Hardest experience of your life.

You still remember the day of departure, passing in front of your friends' houses, you have flooded your clothes with tears and thought about everything you left behind and the things you never had the courage to say and do. And all these things are now here, in front of you and they are looking at you with the biggest eyes in the world.

Incredulous.

Because Steve Harrington has always been your biggest regret and your only desire.

"Steve." You sigh against his skin, so happy to finally be here that you almost shiver. When Robin Buckley has called you to ask you to join her in Hawkins, she really thought you couldn't do it, given the short time in which she had organized the surprise for Steve. "You'll be his Christmas present!" And you had thought of a joke and you had anxiety until you had Robin in front of you and she smiled and embraced you happily, as if your presence could really be a gift. Yet here you are, with the boy you thought you hated so much as a child, only to discover that you felt everything for him except hate, that never really felt anything but love.

"What... What are you doing here? You should... Be on the other side of the world. I haven't seen you in..." He strokes your hair lightly, then he grabs your face in his big hands and squeezes it tightly to check if you are real. "One Year and Three Months Stevie" And after saying that he squeezes it a little tighter, because he probably just realizes right now how much time has actually passed. You are one of the things Steve tries not to think about, filed away in a corner of his heart where your absence can't hurt him. You wrote to each other in the beginning, even quite often, but then it just became too difficult. He moves away a little, just enough to look you in the eye, and none of you try to hide the surprise and the smiles. Somewhere deep down there are  regret and the fear too.

"You are... Changed." he says, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear. You've gotten slightly taller and your cheeks have taken on color and are fuller than the last time he saw you, when the upside-down chores were slowly draining you. You seem healthier, calmer and happier, safer than you will ever be here. With him.

"You too Harrington look...Grown up. A man"

He doesn't answer and you continue. "I guess being a hero makes you grow up fast" You burst into a nervous laugh and look down at the toes of your boots.

"Sorry, it's just that... I'm nervous" He shakes his head.

"Don't be y/n, this is still your home." You observe him, the words get caught on your tongue, stumble and never come out right.

I love you. I miss you. I wished I was here.

And instead all you can say is "I know things have happened...Bad. Difficult. I.." Steve closes his eyes, trying to erase the images of StarCourt, of the Russians, of Billy. Hopper. You have lost so many things but honestly he is happy about it. When he opens them you're watching him worried, his fingers reach your cheek again, gently brushing it

"Yes but I'm glad you weren't there. I prefer to know you're safe"

You smile, softly, placing your hand on his still firm on your skin. You're about to reply that you wish you were here just to keep him safe but Dustin's voice cuts you off.

"Lovebirds, would you do us the favor of coming here?" Stepping back, he coughs lightly as a blush spreads across his cheeks. "Come on, before someone destroys my house." He leans in towards you, reaching out to close the door behind you, and for a tiny instant, you were numb by the scent of him. The moment soon vanishes as he takes you by the hand and leads you to the room where all the voices come from.

"Steve, you haven't even decorated the tree!"

Nancy says shocked. When her eyes lock on your clasped hands, she just smiles at you sweetly.

"It's not like I exactly expected to spend Christmas like this." He tries to justify himself, earning a series of insults and "You're terrible!" from the rest of the company. "As if you mind," Dustin teases. "I'm the one who minds being here actually" Mike mutters slyly.

An hour later Steve is leaning over the dining table, a glass of white wine in his hands and watches as Lucas and Will attempt to scramble over each other to position the three topper. Robin and Jonathan burst into laugh after noticing they brought the same kind of decorations. You and El are trying in every way to whiten the tips of the tree to simulate snow. Right now, while looking at his friends, Steve again perceives this feeling: pure joy. It's has nothing to do with food, gifts or Christmas lights.

It is more a warmth,  something that objects can't bring people. He feels it again, this damned wonderful overwhelming happiness, when, having puffed and abandoned the hard work you've been doing, you look up at him and smile at him from across the hall.

You are here.

You're here, for real and Steve already feels the pain of having to let you go again. But you're here and he can hold you,  kiss your hair, talk to you. It's the best gift ever. He still remembers so distinctly the moment he met you, you were just a little thing, so small you looked like a doll running around the garden of his house and rolling with him among the flowers that his mother cared for more than her own son and Steve hated to death. He remembers your little hand hanging a drawing of the two of you on his bedroom wall. He rembers you throwing your head back and laughing by the sea when Tommy and Carol dragged you for a weekend away from the city routine and then you hiding your tears at Barbara Holland's funeral, trying to be strong and breaking down anyway, shattered in front of an empty coffin, devoured by guilt. There is no memory of his childhood or adolescence that does not involve you, or that he cannot be traced back to you. Even after your departure in every memory you are, a distant thought. Now that you're here everything seems to be back exactly as before. And even if he doesn't even know what heaven is, Steve Harrington feels very close to it. The dinner is not as perfect as Robin planned it, but no less exciting. As she studies her best friend sitting next to you, she still can't believe she haa managed to bring you home. You laugh with Nance and Jonathan. Dustin, Will and the boys are chatting across the table. Robin feels like a little girl waiting for her presents and always leaving a plate of cookies and a glass of milk by the fireplace.

In the imperfection of her life and the difficulties that her family has to face, she has managed to do something great for Steve and this is the most precious gift in the world. If everything they've been through has brought them here, Robin is ready to face it all again. There is nothing  she could want more then her dingus being in peace. You wake up abruptly, still upside down from the jet leg, in the living room, lit only by the tree surrounded by colored lights.

You must have collapsed just a few hours ago, curled up on Steve's couch - specifically next to him, surrounded by his perfume - and now you see your friends curled up in their sleeping bags scattered around the room, each too tired to even notice they're asleep on the floor. Shifting the blanket someone must have wrapped you in after you fell asleep, you decide to use it to cover Max, lying on the other side of the sofa clutching one of the large pillows to her chest, her hand left dangling down to where Lucas promptly reached out to squeeze it . With all the delicacy of which you are capable, you place your feet on the floor and try to get around the various sleeping bags scattered along the room. Luckily, you manage to make it to the kitchen without waking anyone – not that they could have woken up anyway – but noticing a light on.

Before you can even think anything, your eyes met the figure of Steve who has his back at you, wrapped in a burgundy sweatshirt and wearing a pair of shorts. You've missed seeing him so calm, so relaxed. You just missed him to tell the truth, more than you expected.

"What are you doing up?" You ask in a low voice, leaning an arm against the counter and waiting for him to turn around.When he does, he runs a hand through his messy hair and smiles at you.

"I can't sleep" he explains to you, placing a cup on the counter. You catch the movement and narrow your eyes. "By chance is that...?"

"You caught me." He raises his hands in surrender.

"Hot chocolate. Oh, God... You shouldn't have done it without me it's pur thing Steve!" You scold him, silently approaching and trying to suppress a grin. Chocolate has always been their ritual during the endless study afternoons, spent doing everything but study.

"I am sorry... "

"Now, my dear Harrington, I shall be forced to take serious measures."

You threaten. Before he can do anything, you've gotten very close and managed to grab onto his hips. You begin to tickle him when he tries to move, but you're faster and let your hands slide under the sweatshirt, on the abdomen and Steve is shaken by a series of irrepressible laughter. "I give up, I give up!" He almost screams, grabbing your wrists and finally managing to stop you.

"What do you have to say in your defense?" You lift your chin to him, closer than you've ever been all evening, and your smile fades as you notice Steve's eyes roaming over your lips tracing them with his gaze. Just do it. Please . But don't speak, in fact your breath catches in your chest. Everything is exactly like in the good old days.

Immediately he releases your wrists.

"Steve" You mumble confused by whatever is going on, this is enough to bring him back from the trance he seems to have fallen into. Steve turns and leans towards the top right locker where he keeps his cups, with his back to you. "A cup of hot chocolate on the way." He mutters, you try to suppress the sigh you feel growing in the center of her chest. "I missed you, you know?" You confess with a half smile, going to sit on the opposite counter, continuing to observe his back. It's nothing new, you know what there is between you, affection, Devotion but sometimes it's feels like it could be so much more it actually hurts.

"I would have liked to keep in touch, to contact you more often..." He starts.

" I know it. It looked wrong. ridiculous. I get it, really." you interrupt him. He still won't look at you. "I'm glad you're okay." You continue."I'm glad you're okay too. Thank God you are safe. I would die if everything ever happens to you Steve." Only now  he turns around, hitting you with the intensity of his gaze "I missed you too. You don't know how much, princess" As soon as you hear that nickname, that stupid nickname he gave you years and years ago, your heart skips a beat. And you blame the memories, you blame Christmas and the distance, for what you do afterwards. While Steve walks up to you carrying the hot cup, it's easy to take it out of his hand and place it behind you. It's easy to grab hold of his fingers that you know as your own and bring him close, just as it's easy to stare at him from below without letting go. The easiest thing, however, is to close your eyes. Close your eyes and wait, as you have done since you were twelve, when you finally understood that there is no person in the world more similar to you, more suited to you than stupid Steve Harrington. And that's why, in the end, you fell in love with him hard.

The long-awaited kiss reaches you,  the only light that remains is the sensation of this moment, imperfect as it has always been between you two, but nothing less than exceptional. You sense the initial awkwardness, which, of course, has nothing to do with inexperience– Steve seems born to kiss ypu and make it seem like the simplest thing in the whole universe. It's an embarrassment that says "you've been my best friend since before I even remotely looked like a girl, but now you want me and I want you and here we are" and likewise you feel it fade, giving way to an ease you haven't felt with anyone else.

The romantic side of your mind suggests it's because he knows you better than any other guy.

Steve, who has leaned over your legs stretching his neck towards your face as if a natural thing, moves his left hand towards his side, and only now  you suddenly realize you want him closer, you need him. Therefore you surround his waist with your legs and cling to the collar of his sweatshirt, devouring his mouth in a need that has been ignited since he held you in his arms in front of the door. Despite the desire, however, you are  this is Steve you are kissing now and you must know what the hell it means to him before doing something you could regret. In the same moment in which Steve starts to move away slightly, you do it  too and finally open your eyes.

"I wish I hadn't waited a year to be able to do it." He whispers softly, letting the fingers of his right hand get lost behind your neck, in your soft hair. And it's enough for you, for him and for everything you've never said.

For now, that's enough.

"You've always been slow Harrington"you scold him, trying with all your strength not to smile at him, "Give me a good reason to stay Steve" He leans down once more to kiss you.This time, you both smile.

This time you will never leave.

[gyunglitter]

➷ 01 ➷

-“oh, the way he makes me feel that love isn’t real -– cupid is so dumb”

or

unlike you, your brother’s best friend just doesn’t know when to quit

word count: 1,766

warnings: probably just the reader making you cringe lol, give her a break--she's 11 lmao

tags: brother’s-best-friend!beomgyu x reader, ??? to ???, angst, fluff(??), beomgyu is the cool boy-next-door, reader is an independent girlboss (or trying to be, at least), beomgyu’s gonna be GROVELING, simp!gyu, pathetic pining from both sides lol, maybe some cringe from reader (she was a teenage girl in love, have some empathy plz😭)

notes: LMAO SORRY TO POST KINDA LATE, I FORGOT I PROMISED TODAY HAHAHAHA

another short chapter, but i promise the next couple of chapters are a lot longer! enjoy mini reader, beomgyu, and soobin tho :)

–> masterlist <–

Ten Years Ago

If there was one thing your family agreed on, it was that Soobin was the shyest person around.

You and Soobin were very close, having a lot of the same interests and mannerisms. You didn’t disagree on many things (yet), but there were only a handful of differences between you two. You were eleven years old, making your older brother thirteen, and about to go into his final year of middle school. But the main thing that had set you both apart was that while you had many friends, Soobin had absolutely no one. He was a very sweet and funny kid, but he was too shy for his own good, unintentionally pushing the majority of the people his age away.

You had hoped your brother would make some friends during his seventh year, but had little to no luck; apparently, the Bunny Girl Senpai Fanclub wasn’t taking many applicants and the Pokemon Card Collectors Club was a bunch of gatekeepers. Middle school boys.

“What if I just faked being sick?”

Soobin held his head in his hands as he was waiting for his pop tarts in the toaster. You sat on the counter across from him, shoving down a bowl of Frosted Flakes. You didn’t have to leave for another hour when your mom would drive you to the primary school a few blocks away. Soobin, on the other hand, was supposed to set off for his first day of eighth grade soon, but was stalling as much as he could before he had to start walking over. 

You snorted, “For the whole year? Fat chance of that happening, you’re the worst liar.”

Your brother lifted his head and glared at you, before sighing loudly and crying, “I hate school, it’s filled with people who are scary and take your rare Charizard card!”

You opened your mouth to reply, but were interrupted by your house’s doorbell ringing. You looked towards the front door and turned back to Soobin expectantly. But your brother wasn’t paying any attention. To your (un)amusement, he was still sulking about, well, just about everything. Like you said, middle school boys.

Shaking your head, you hopped off of the counter (carefully, as your dad had shown you) and walked over to the front door.You figured it was one of your neighbors or the mailman. You usually weren’t allowed to open the door yourself, but that completely escaped your mind when you opened the door and were faced with an unfamiliar boy.

A cute, unfamiliar boy.

You mentally thanked your mom for braiding your hair in two with your favorite butterfly clips now.

“Hi,” you said, a small grin taking over your face. “I’m Y/n!”

The boy looked at you and smiled back. “Hey, Y/n, your mom or dad home?”

You nodded your head. “They are, but they’re running around getting ready. I can definitely help you though!” What can you say, you were a confident kid.

“I don’t know, you might be a bit too little,” he teased you, making you scoff.

“Little? I’ll have you know, I can deal with anything, even crazy!”

He laughed a little at that and then said, “Of course! I’m sure you’re super responsible at the age of..?”

“Eleven,” you bragged, tucking a stray hair back into one of your butterfly clips.

The boy nodded in deep understanding and said, “Well, little Y/n, I’m Beomgyu. I just moved here and my mom told me you guys had someone my age here too! I figured we could walk to school together,” he said, rubbing the back of his head.

Your eyes widened at that, a warm feeling taking over your stomach. 

The boy was cute, duh. But his easy offer of friendship, something your brother had struggled to find, made you know that this Beomgyu had a kindness to him that not many his age did–according to Soobin.

Your grin widened at the boy in front of you, nodding your head eagerly. “Just give me a sec,” you squealed, excited for your brother. “OPPA! YOU’RE FINALLY GONNA MAKE A FRIEND!”

Years later, you look back and remember the loud laugh Beomgyu had let out at your call, his excitement outweighing the awkwardness Soobin exhibited when he appeared at your doorway with a pop tart hanging from his mouth.

You look back and remember Beomgyu easily befriending Soobin with his wide smiles, animated hand gestures, and cool stories about his new pet bird. The way he eased your brother’s nerves and got him laughing, already offering to share the other pop tart in his pack.

You look back and cringe sometimes at the confidence those lame butterfly clips gave you. But you take it back when you would remember Beomgyu, with an arm around Soobin’s shoulder, had turned around while the two boys were about to take off for school, saying in a singsong tone, “Nice to meet you, little Y/n, love the butterfly clips, by the way!”

But most of all, you remember the way your cheeks flushed. The way he made you feel like you were cute too. Like you were special. You remember how that was the first of many times he would fluster you with his compliments. 

You were only eleven, but at that moment you would look back and remember how this is where you became a fool–a fool for love.

“You look really good,” he whispered to you.

It took everything in you to not show how much he affected you. Unlike the many instances before though, you actually succeeded this time around. Your focused gaze on your brother and father’s random discussion about his anime watching habits kept your eyes from widening, and your well placed makeup did a good job of hiding the flush that desperately wanted to highlight your neck and cheeks. It bothered you very much how Choi Beomgyu could still get under your skin.

“Thanks,” you replied shortly, not letting your eyes leave their spot on Soobin. 

–Your brother was whining about how there was no harm in watching anime when he already got his work done for the day–

Despite your subtle avoidance of him, you knew it wasn’t reciprocated by the way his breaths brushed against your ear. The way his eyes were on you, you could feel them as if they were burning you. It felt like he was truly drinking you in after so many years of not getting a single glimpse of you. But that was all you would allow him.

“I, uh, it’s nice to see you again. It’s been a while,” he continued, trying to catch your attention.

You hummed disinterestedly. 

–Your father had taken to pointing out Soobin’s body pillows, to which he groaned loudly, claiming that was actually Beomgyu’s gag gift to make him look sus–

But Beomgyu was not deterred.

“Congrats on, well, everything from the past four years! I know college can be pretty crazy!”

You winced a little at that, remembering how your mom told you Beomgyu had actually dropped out of college about three months after you left for school. Despite Beomgyu doing amazing in school when you were still around–there was talk of him possibly graduating at the top of your class–he practically tanked his classes the following fall semester. 

“But of course, if there was anyone who could deal with crazy, it would be our little Y/n, huh,” he laughed a little–that same damn laugh he had when you first met. “I mean, you are pretty amazing—”

You weren’t sure what he had gotten up to after you left, but you weren’t interested in hearing anything. Not about him, his future, and definitely not about how amazing he thought you were.

“Wow dad, this shrimp tastes great!” You shouted your false gratitude, successfully interrupting Beomgyu and the argument between your brother and father.

All the chatter stopped for a second, before your dad grinned at you. “Thanks, bean, make sure to grab some more then! You’re looking too skinny, anyways, are you sure you ate enough out there,” he asked, wiping his hands on the front of his apron.

You laughed and nodded, both at your dad’s question and Soobin's grateful stare for changing the topic. Eventually, your mother started another conversation about how Soobin’s friends from school were doing.

“I thought you didn’t like seafood,” Beomgyu muttered to you when he got the chance.

For the first time that evening, you looked back at him.

You realized, with a painful squeeze in your chest, that Beomgyu had grown past the stage of cuteness that you had adored when you were younger, and in your absence, became beautiful. Sure, his puppy dog eyes stayed the same, holding that familiar kindness and curiosity as before. But now, his face lost its round edges and became chiseled, looking as if his features were carved by Aphrodite, herself. His hair was dyed brown and had grown out a little into what was beginning to look like a mullet, giving off a boyish look that his typically mischievous expressions matched easily. Not only that, but he looked like he’d really grown into himself, physically and mentally. Granted, he wasn’t in the best place when you had left four years ago, but the way he carried himself was refreshing. Attractive. Him.

“I didn’t, but I do now.” You took another bite of the shrimp on your plate. “I mean, it’s been a long four years. The things I liked before changed quite a bit while I was gone. ”

You watched Beomgyu’s face fall a bit at that, his puppy dog eyes becoming downcast as he looked towards his own plate of chicken. There wasn’t much on his plate to begin with, but it seemed he wasn’t going to be eating any more after that.

“Yeah, I guess they would after so long,” Beomgyu whispered, pushing his food around with his chopsticks. 

You turned back to your own food to try and get your mind off of him, but he stopped you with his next words.

“If it changes anything, so have mine.”

This time, you couldn’t stop your eyes from widening. You turned towards Beomgyu, to see him looking at you with what you could only assume was guilt.

“I just wish they had done so earlier.”

–> next <–

[eddieandbird]

Needs

Summary: Things become tense between you and Joseph since moving into his London flat. tw/tags: fluff|f!reader|joe’s pov|cursing|hurt/comfort|possesive!joe|drinking ment| A/N: it’s been a long while since i wrote a joe quinn blurb, hope i still got it - bird

I really can not believe you. You were out the entire night and didn’t even give a word about where you were going. I could feel my stomach bubbling with anxiety when I called your cell and you didn’t answer right away. When you finally texted me your location, I leaped up from the couch and got there as soon as I could. Anger was buzzing around my head, flushing my cheeks. I couldn’t even be bothered to play the radio. My breathing was erratic, I don’t think I was able to exhale properly until I saw you there.

I rolled down my window to see you on the curb, your lipstick smudged across your cheek and you held your strappy heels in your lap. My disappointed look met your sorrowful one before I demanded 

“That’s enough, yeah? Get in the car,” Your sigh developed a cloud in the cold London air, but not another word came from you when you got into the passenger seat. Not a “Thank you for picking me up, Joe,” or an “I’m sorry Love, I missed you,”. Just a car ride filled with thick silence and hardly audible breaths. 

Upon arriving back at the flat, you rushed to throw your shoes carelessly at the front door and stomped to the kitchen.

 “Oh that’s lovely isn’t it?” I said sarcastically, my back pressed up against the side of the refrigerator. “Not only did I wait up on you all night and find you on the street, I have to pick up your mess too. Thanks for that, Darling,” You opened the fridge, obstructing my view of you. 

“What do you want from me Joe?” you groaned, rummaging through our foods. 

“Right now? Absolutely nothing. The whole night? I was pacing the floors wanting to know where you were, then finally when I heard from you, I came to find you absolutely pissed in a gutter!” I raised my voice, something I’ve rarely done in front of you. I could see you flinched, your hand shot away from the door handle.

You slammed the fridge door closed and insisted on being inches away from my face. “You smell alcohol on me, Babe? I haven’t been drinking,” you blurted before pushing your palms into my chest. 

“Then what’s with your makeup running down your face? And why are you dressed like a go-go dancer?” I wrapped my hands around your wrists and pulled your attention back to me. “I wanted to go out… but I got lost. Didn’t even make it to the pub. Cried my fucking eyes out in the alleyway,” You couldn’t keep eye contact as you admitted it to me. 

“Now what the hell are you doing wandering around London without me? It’s not safe. You don’t know your way round here yet,” I said firmly.

“What am I supposed to do, Joe? I’m bored! I’ve been waiting all week to go out with you and you haven’t had any time for me!” You spat with tears welling up in your eyes. I broke my gaze in an attempt to prevent myself from crying.

“I thought we went over this, yeah? It’s not like I’m out at parties, I am working. Working for you, right? Cuz I love you. I wanted you to have this comfortable flat because I know how hard it was to move out here,” I strained to say. 

“Sure this place is nice but it’s lonely without you here. And I know you have to work, I get it, I just… think maybe we made a mistake,” It was painful hearing you say that. 

“S-so what are you saying? Do you want to move back to America?” My voice shook. “Because I’m telling you right now, it will not happen. I will not force you to stay… but know that I will do anything to make you want to stay,” I sheepishly held my arms out. Every fiber of me begged for you to come embrace me. “Please I-“

My pathetic monologue was graciously interrupted by you holding me. I wrapped my arms around you tightly and kissed you harder than I ever had.

“I’m sorry… I promise I’ll let you know where I’m going next time. That was really stupid of me,” You sobbed into my chest and I pressed my lips to your forehead.

“I’m sorry too. I’ll be sure to schedule dates like I used to. I’ve been busy, but I will never be too busy for you,” I picked your chin up off my chest and looked down at you. My heart melted at the sight of you looking up at me with love in your eyes. They then fluttered closed and I brought you in for another tender kiss.