#and he did much worse things n yet this is what really hurts me most the time | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

borathae · 1 year ago

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"Jungkook is always plagued with guilt when he has to leave you for a business trip. His anxiety that you might be angry at him for not being present is especially high this time around and only your safe embrace can help him calm down."

Pairing: CEO!Jungkook x f.Reader

Genre: married life!AU, mild Hurt & Comfort, Smut

Warnings: Jungkook is anxious, stressed & guilty, he cries, she is so comforting, hugs and kisses, needy sex, sloppy mutual masturbation, handjob, pussy fingering, penetrative sex facing each other, until he pushes her to her back and fucks her missionary, strength & muscle kink, he is so passionate and rough in missionary, I don't think that there are distinctive roles in this, I guess you can call it Top!Jungkook with a Mommy kink, she calls him Bunny at first before he fucks her to the state where she can only call him by his name, dirty talk, sensory deprivation in the sense that they fuck in complete darkness, they're so so desperate for each other, tears because it's so good, multiple orgasms for her, creampies, cockwarming as aftercare, with cuddles and kisses <3, they're fucking soulmates

Wordcount: 5.3k

a/n: i wrote this after kook's solo concert because he did it to me. i also reread THE angst chapter of aaol and i think this influenced me as well. i really want my kookie back

The plane wasn’t supposed to land this late. The plans were all ruined.

Jungkook scans his eyes over the kitchen. Empty. Clean. He abandons his suitcase by the stairs leading up and walks to the fridge. He opens it. His heart stings. The plans were all ruined. He wasn’t supposed to come home this late. You made dinner for him. The prettily plated food is still on its original plate for him. You put a glass bowl over it to keep it fresh.

“Fuck”, Jungkook presses out and closes the fridge. He feels so fucking guilty that he wants to throw up. He should have been there. He should have eaten your food and talked to you during dinner. He should have fucking been there.

You knew that he wouldn’t come home. He was aware that his text came way too late, but he still had hoped that you hadn’t started cooking yet. Of course you had.

It has been longer than a month since he last was in Seoul and you always cook the grandest things as a welcome home surprise. Jungkook doesn’t expect you to cook, you do it because you want to. Which makes him feel all the shittier right now. He wasn’t there to appreciate it. He had one job - the most important job of all - and he fucking failed you.

Jungkook walks back to his suitcase and lifts it. He will carry it upstairs and then do the laundry tomorrow. He can’t be bothered tonight. It’s already too late. He already wasted too much time being his shitty CEO self.

The dressing room is empty and clean. It faintly smells like lavender in here. He knows it’s because you cleaned this room recently. Jungkook discards the suitcase by the dresser and leaves the room.

He takes a shower in the upstairs bathroom. He didn’t want to go downstairs yet. He is a little scared to do so. He shouldn’t have arrived so late. He is scared of your reaction. He gets so sad when you are disappointed in him. He hasn’t decided yet whether it’s his anxiety disorder talking or the truth, but he thinks that you will be angry at him.

He is angry at himself. He’s a fucking shithead of a husband. That’s what he fucking is.

Jungkook manages not to cry in the shower even if he really wanted to. His feelings are eating him up alive. He feels so stressed. So tired. So exhausted. Work has been hell. And the fact that it was in a country he barely knew the language of and he had to be without you made it even worse. He feels so drained.

The shower doesn’t help. It cleans him, nothing more. Jungkook doesn’t put on clothes and leaves for downstairs. He uses the never ending city lights as his guidance. The wind carries the distant purring of the traffic to the windows. The slightly higher pitched pitter patter of his naked feet on marble floor is loud in comparison. The sound stops in sync with Jungkook stopping in front of the bedroom door.

His hand is shaking. He has to hold it to calm down. He is so scared. You will be so disappointed with him. He wouldn’t even be surprised if you told him to sleep on the couch tonight. You never did so before, but things can change. One month is awfully long and he left you hanging today. He wouldn’t blame you if you sent him away.

Jungkook takes a shaky breath for courage and steps inside. The room smells like home. Jungkook feels his throat tighten in emotion. This is what home smells like. And he was too late for it. He swallows down his tears and tries to walk it off.

The electric blinds are closed all the way, putting the room into complete darkness. Jungkook uses the light of his phone screen to tiptoe to the bathroom. He still needs to brush his teeth. He does so using his phone’s flashlight as the only light source. He didn’t want to turn on the big lights and risk waking you. Or maybe he didn’t want to look into his own eyes. He can’t bear to face himself tonight.

Jungkook leaves the bathroom door open and tiptoes to the bed. His phone screen gives off enough light that he can see you once he arrives by the bedside.

You are turned to his side, resting your hand on his blanket. Your cheek is squished as you are sleeping halfway on your stomach. Your lips are parted as soft breaths leave you. Jungkook looks back at your hand resting on his side and gulps down the painful lump in his throat. You shouldn’t have had to fall asleep alone tonight. You shouldn’t have had only his memory to hold.

Jungkook picks up your hand so he could slip under the covers. You react to the gentle nudge with a hum.

“Mhm”, you let out and roll over, now showing off your back.

Jungkook is aware that you didn’t do it on purpose, but it feels like it. You turned your back to him and it’s his own fault.

Jungkook tugs the blanket under his arm and touches your back. Up and down. Up and down. He feels you breathe. Your warmth is so familiar to him. He missed it so much.

He missed you so much.

His eyes start burning.

“I’m sorry”, he whispers shakily and turns his back to you. He can’t face you anymore. It hurts so much. He squeezes his eyes shut and tries not to cry.

The sheets ruffle as you move around again. Jungkook doesn’t feel the movement because you and he have separate mattresses and separate blankets to get the best sleep ever. You shared a mattress and blanket at first, but decided to upgrade your bed a year ago. Jungkook likes his mattress firm and his blanket thin, while you love to have a softer mattress and your blanket to be thick. And the little mattress movements as one of you rolled around or the blanket wars which once managed to wake you are gone as well. Changing one mattress and blanket for two was the best decision ever. You and he sleep like royalty these days.

Jungkook hears the sheets ruffle as you move around and then the sound of a hand sliding over soft sheets. Warmth touches his back. He tenses up, stays silent. You draw paths along his back, feeling him up. Seeing him. Just like he did all those years ago when you were still masked soulmates aching to be together. It became a little thing between you and him to trace the other in darkness as to make out if it was your other half. You became so good at it these days.

Your touch dances up to the nape of his neck after exploring his upper back. Jungkook shivers and aches to lean into your touch. He is scared to do so now. He already waited for too long to speak up. You’ll know that he is intentionally acting asleep to avoid talking to you.

You close the distance, taking him into your arms to pull him against your chest. You are propped up on your elbow, using the position to nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck so you could kiss him.

Jungkook exhales shakily, releasing all of his tension with a tremble. This just broke him. To be cradled and kissed. It broke him.

“Are you awake?” you whisper softly. The words swirl against his neck.

He nods his head.

“Sorry, did I wake you?”

He hesitates. Should he be truthful? Will you be hurt if he was?

He shakes his head. He can’t lie to you. Not like this. Not when you hold him so safely. Not when you have broken him with your embrace.

“Why didn’t you say something?”

“I’m sorry”, he presses out and sobs softly.

“Hey”, you gasp, straightening up, “hey, are you crying? What’s wrong?” you babble and roll him to his back so you could cradle his cheeks. You wipe his tears away, keeping close by resting your chest against his’, “what’s wrong, Bunny?”

“I’m sorry for tonight. I’m so sorry for being late and, and not showing up. I’m so fucking sorry.”

“It’s okay, hey it’s okay. It wasn’t your fault. The flight was delayed. You couldn’t have known.”

“I saw the food”, he confesses and squeaks sadly, “I didn’t show up, I’m so sorry. I should have texted sooner, I should have-”

“How could you have texted me sooner if you didn’t even know that the flight would be delayed?”

Jungkook falters. He sniffles repeatedly, taking sharp gasps for air to regulate his breathing. What you say makes sense to him. He didn’t even think of it yet, despite it being the most logical explanation. So it was his anxiety disorder kicking in.

You caress his left cheek while your right hand guides your pointer finger up and down along the bridge of his nose. You call this touch your magic touch because there is some sort of magic in it to calm down any sort of anxiety Jungkook experiences. Jungkook flutters his eyes closed and sighs as comfort overtakes him.

“Now tell me how you should have texted me sooner, mhm?” you ask in a soft, comforting voice.

“I don’t know”, Jungkook whispers.

“Of course you don’t, it’s impossible. The flight was delayed. It was an unfortunate series of events and not your fault”, you assure him, “unless you intentionally stayed away. Mhm is that it? Did you not wanna see me already, you sneaky Bunny?” you add in a joking tone, making Jungkook giggle.

He shakes his head, “no Mommy, I wanted to see you.”

“Good”, you say in a fond voice and claim his lips in a smooch.

Jungkook gasps because he hadn’t expected it. The feeling finally seeps into his consciousness. He is kissing you. After thirty three days without you, he is finally kissing you again. Jungkook whimpers and hooks his fingers behind your head, deepening the kiss with trembling lips. He is kissing you again. He is finally realizing that this is happening, that he is back with you. He hooks his arms behind your head and pulls you closer, asking for your taste. You part your lips and meet his begging tongue, while your fingers explore the softness of his hair.

You feel a little dizzy from sleep. You didn’t have the deepest sleep tonight because you knew that Jungkook would come home and you subconsciously refused to find deep sleep. So when Jungkook got into bed, the rustling of his blanket woke you. The pull was instant. You needed to feel him, make sure that he was finally with you again. Your body didn’t expect to be in the current position for such a long time. Your arms are weak and your head is dizzy.

You break the kiss because exhaustion makes you do it.

Jungkook chases you, rolling you and him over so he was the one on top. His right arm rests around you just a little under your breasts, his left hand is cradling your cheek while his right hand is deepening in your hair as best as your texture allows it. He claims your lips in a kiss again, whimpering into it as his body seeks your closeness. Two layers of blanket are keeping you apart. Jungkook doesn’t think, he merely acts and pulls his blanket off of him. Next your blanket. He opens it and slides his arm under it. He takes you softly in his hand and presses you against him at the same time as his body sinks under your blanket. He trembles. It is so warm under your covers and from what he can feel, you are wearing one of his sleep shirts. He grabs a bundle of it and twists, needing you to be so much closer than you already are.

“Please”, he begs in a shaky voice, tugging at your shirt.

You sit up far enough that you can take off your shirt. You throw it to the side and fall back down.

“Thank you”, Jungkook whimpers and cradles you against his chest. He buries his face in the crook of your neck and places his right hand on the back of your head to support it for you.

You wrap your arms around him, letting out a sigh you didn’t even know you were holding in. You have him back. This is how your Jungkook hugs. Thirty three days without him are unbearably long. So long in fact that your skin started to unwillingly forget the warmth and softness of him. It comes rushing back again now that you are hugging without barriers.

“___”, Jungkook croaks and presses you closer, “oh god.”

“I missed you too”, you whisper, burying your hand deep in his hair. You pull him closer. Your breasts squish against his chest, the pressure feels like heaven. It gets easier to breathe and releases you of tension you didn’t even know you possessed. You have your Jungkook back.

Jungkook feels overwhelmed. He ached for your hug ever since he left. Thirty three days without you were hell. You are his constant in his life. When he comes home from work, you are there, hugging him and talking to him and falling asleep with him. When he leaves for work, you are right by his side, talking to him and kissing his cheek as he drops you off at university. When he has free time, he knows he can spend it with you. You are always there. You are his constant. The person who will always be by his side. The warmth he can always return to. So to go without you for more than a month was hell.

“I missed you so much”, he confesses.

“Me too, Bunny. Me too.”

You felt just as lonely without him. Years ago, you wouldn’t have batted an eye at the thought of being along for a month, but Jungkook changed you in the most wonderful of ways. He is your person, the comfort you most look forward to, the home you never want to leave. You have him by your side in the morning and have him back again by the evening. You share the last second of consciousness with him before sleep and share the first right after. And for the last month, you didn’t. You had to live without him and it was agony.

“Closer”, Jungkook begs, “I wanna be closer.”

“Closer?”

“Closer please.”

“Lie down on your side.”

Jungkook obeys, keeping his arms around you. You seek him and slide your hand to his length. You brush your fingers over his tip, eliciting a trembling gasp from him. A small whimper follows.

“This kind of closer?”

“Yes”, he squeaks and grabs whatever he can of your upper back.

“I missed this feeling. You’re so soft.”

“I missed you too. Ah please.”

“Kook…”

“Can I-”

“Yes.”

His left hand naturally dances down your body, trying to locate your clit. You drape your leg around him, giving him access. He connects his fingers with your heat, sending electricity through you.

“Holy fuck, I’m sensitive”, you get out and moan. You take his cock and begin jerking it. He grows hard rapidly. Just as you soak his fingers at a rapid speed. You want him. He wants you. Too long you had to go without each other.

“Me too. Ah mhm”, he gets out and buries two of his fingers inside you.

“Bunny….”

“Mommy…”

You cradle his cheek, rub your thumb over his face and stub his nose with your own. Your hands work desperately between your bodies, the tension is growing embarrassingly fast.

“Bunny, I missed you so much”, you keen and squeeze your eyes shut. It feels so good. His long fingers are filling you up while his thumb is rubbing circles on your clit. He is so sloppy and needy in his touch, which makes it all the better.

“Me too, Mommy”, Jungkook gets out and whimpers, “oh god.”

Your hand is fast around his cock. You are calculated on normal days, but not tonight. There is no coordination in how you touch him, just pure and honest desperation.

“I don’t wanna cum like this”, you croak.

“Close?”

“Yeah, it’s fucking stupid. Fuck”, you slide your hand to his hair so you could twist.

Jungkook moans, tilting his head back all on his own while his pouty lips brush against yours. You kiss without really kissing. Just featherlight touches, tickling moans and traces of your tongues. The tension between you and him becomes unbearable. You clench down on his fingers, feeling his cock throb in your hold.

“Bunny, I need your cock.”

“I need your pussy too, Mommy.”

“Good. Take out your fingers.”

Jungkook obeys, touching your hip instead. Neither of you care about the wet mess he leaves on your skin. It’s just another proof that you and he are finally reconnected again.

“Good boy”, you praise and shimmy down just a little so you can take his cock inside. There is no friction, no struggle, no pain. Just warmth and overwhelming pleasure.

“Holy fuck”, you whisper and push him in deeper. Past your entrance. Your warm walls engulf him.

Jungkook grabs you and accidentally scratches you. He couldn’t help it. He is with you again. No one feels like you. No one does.

“Ah!” the sound bounces off the walls. He trembles and pulls you closer, “Mommy.”

“Bunny.”

“Oh god, I’m home”, he whimpers and starts chasing you.

Your leg is still around him, his thrusts go so deep like this. You are so filled up with him, so stuffed. You are eye to eye even if the complete darkness prevents you from seeing each other. But you don’t need light to see each other. Not you and not Jungkook. You have your hands and fingertips to see. You started it back in the stuffy sex club room you met in and perfected it over the years in your loving home. You know exactly how he looks right now and in return he knows as well.

“Bunny, oh god, my Jungkookie”, you get out and shake, pulling him closer by his hair. The darkness makes it feel all the more intense as you claim his lips in a passionate tongue kiss. The sounds of it mix with the desperate rutting your hips are doing. The rustling of the sheets is audible as well, as are the needy moans both of you choke out constantly.

You are hot under the covers. Sweat has formed on the parts where you are pressed together. You pull each other closer regardless, basking in the heat because you had to live without it for far too long. This is the only way to melt with each other.

“I love you”, Jungkook gets out and kisses you again.

“-love- too”, is all you get out between your hungry kisses, but Jungkook knows regardless. Even without words he would know. From your kisses, your embrace and the way your pussy is convulsing around him. Jungkook knows every ridge, every bump, every inch of how you feel inside and being allowed to experience it right now is the only proof of love he needs. He is the man who you allowed to go in raw, even back when you pretended not to care. You claimed him and sealed his sweetest fate. You loved him enough that you wanted to be without barriers and you love him enough that you welcome him home right now.

“You feel so good”, you moan and rut against him before your lips suck on his lower lip needily.

Jungkook whimpers, spilling tears of ecstasy. He fucks into you, feeling his legs shake. He is so high on you.

This is fucking for the sake of reconnecting. This is emotional. Deeply, soul-consumingly emotional. Is it kinky? No. Will either of you last long? No. Will it stay in your minds as one of the most intense nights ever? Yes. Yes it fucking will. This is the kind of desperate, needy, passionate sex you can only have after you have been without each other for a long time. It is dumb. It is raw. It is carnal and it is the only good thing which comes out of having to be without the other. Because no amount of foreplay, kink or fetish will ever get you to the level of starvation than forced distance does.

And you are starving. Oh, you are parched and aching for each other. Jungkook fucks you as hard as he can, while you rut against him as roughly as you can. It results in these deep, fiery thrusts, which fills you with all his cock and in return makes him experience every inch of your pussy.

You are burning up today. You are hot around him, as if you had a fever. Jungkook can barely breathe because of it, gasping for air between his desperate moaning. And you are soaking wet. Soft too. So soft. Jungkook scratches down your back and pulls you closer. His left hand cups your buttock and stills your hips this way. He pushes. The kiss breaks with your needy moan. You roll to your back just enough that Jungkook can prop himself up on his right elbow and use the angle to finally bottom out. Truly bottom out because the position finally gives him a chance to do so. Your leg is still around him, while the other is under his weight. You can feel his sculpted thigh shift and tense as he fucks you. His thrusts are sloppy and so perfectly uncoordinated that they seem coordinated. The mattress shakes because of it.

You barely feel it because he is currently fucking the senses out of you. This is the kind of fuck which reminds you why he managed to steal your heart and the proof of why you could never want to leave him. It genuinely fucks every sense of control out of you and turns you into the neediest, wettest pillow princess in existence. Tonight it impacts you especially deeply, leaving you to arch your back and curl your toes.

“Bunny”, you moan embarrassingly high pitched, throwing your head back as best as possible while Jungkook shows off the strength of his hips, “Bunny, oh god. Ah Bunny.”

“Mommy. So good, ah Mommy”, Jungkook moans and drops his head into the crook of your neck. He pulls you closer until your head rests on his right lower arm and you have his biceps brushing against your nose. The gentle headlock he has you in heals you from aches you didn’t even possess before. You are so safe like this. He smells hot. As if he is burning up.

“Bunny…”

You are burning up yourself, grasping his broad, muscular back as your only connection to sanity. He is making you cum and it’s happening soon.

“Don’t stop, please”, you beg.

“Mommy”, he moans and continues because he won’t ever ignore one of your begs. You don’t beg often, so when you do, Jungkook is overtaken with the need to fulfill your every wish. Which means a lot because he always wants to fulfill your every wish.

“You’re making me cum”, you choke out and sob softly as you hug him against you.

“Holy fuck”, Jungkook gets out and squeezes you strongly as your body falls into the high. You are so tight around him, burning up and throbbing. No wonder you are sobbing. Jungkook has to grit his teeth from how intense your orgasm feels to him and he isn’t even the one experiencing it. And there is one problem right now. He still needs it longer. He doesn’t know if he is holding back because he is greedy for more or if his body is just working this way right now, but he isn’t done even when you are already coming down. He needs more. He wants you longer.

You are soaking his cock, pulsating around him as you slowly recover and it’s fucking messing with him. He needs you. He needs you so bad.

Jungkook uses his strength and rolls you onto your back completely. His cock leaves you for a second, but you barely feel the disconnection as the darkness and your passed high leave you disoriented. Your legs are spread open, giving Jungkook a chance to take his cock and push it inside again.

Now you feel it. Now you’re whole again. You whimper, tensing up around him.

“Not done yet”, he rasps with his hand twisting the pillow next to your head. He bottoms out and chases you instantly. Fast and hard. He fucks the juices out of you, filling the air with the sounds of it just as he fills it with the sinful sounds of his naked body impacting with yours. The bed is sturdy and yet still croaks. His throaty grunts and guttural growls fill your ears as well. You know for a fact that he is frowning right now, gritting his teeth because he always does so when he fucks hard.

“Ju-Ju-Jungkook”, he fucks his name out of you. He is fucking his cock right against the spots which steal your sanity. You can’t stop getting wetter because of it. Every second with him feels fucking orgasmic, “Jungkook! Ah! Jungkook!”

You grip his arm. His muscles are so tense, bulging under your fingers as he drills you like an animal.

“Jun-Ju-Jungkoo-ook.”

“Yeah, keep moaning my name Mommy”, he growls deeply and curses, “fuck, this is…fuck.”

“Jungkook, ah god Jungkook.”

“That’s it, Mommy. That’s it, keep moaning my name”, he encourages you and rewards you with harsher thrusts. Of course this wasn’t his final form yet. Not Jungkook. Not your husband. He will make you believe that the sex couldn’t get any better before showing you not to underestimate him. He fucks you deep into the mattress just as he fucks you deep into a blurred state of ecstasy.

You are utterly and entirely his right now. And you fucking like it, moaning his name as he rewrites your definition of pleasure one harsh thrust at a time.

“I missed you”, he is using his deep voice to talk, “I thought of you, urgh, of you being mhm being cockstuffed with me, ah mhm I’m going crazy, Mommy. Fuck.”

He could tell you everything right now and you would barely take it in. Your brain doesn’t work. You are so dumb right now. So utterly stupid. If you weren’t on your back, you would have drooled. Instead you sob his name and writhe desperately.

“Fuck”, Jungkook spits and growls. His hips stutter for only a second. This is how long he needs to find his composure again and then he is already drilling you again, pushing your body closer and closer to your orgasms, “have to go again?”

“Ye-yeah”, you keen, arching your back.

“Let go Mommy, I’m right here”, he tells you and cradles your cheek.

The touch is all that was missing. You break apart with a loud moan of his name and your fingers desperately twisting his hair. He fucked it out of you from the deepest parts of you, which makes it all the more intense. You can’t even moan as it happens. His name was all you managed to produce before your voice gave up on you. You can’t breathe either, lying there with your lips parted and your back arched as Jungkook drags heaven out of you.

Your second high gives him a hard time. The needy fucking he did brought him to the point where he has to let go even if he wanted to hold back longer. His cock aches, his balls feel tight and the tension in his stomach has reached a painful level. While your lungs aren’t working right now, his’ are working overtime, producing the neediest, quickest pants for air. He takes a deep breath and exhales it through his mouth, dropping his head into the crook of your neck.

“I’m gonna cum inside”, he moans in a pitched voice. His hips stutter, but don’t lose speed, “gonna creampie your pussy so hard. Holy fuck, Mommy.”

You wrap your legs around him, closing your arms around him as well while your left hand buries itself deep in his hair and your right grabs his tense ass. You are barely present yet, but the need to feel him paint your walls gives you enough strength to pull him close.

“I love you”, he chokes out and lets go. He isn’t silent like you were. He is loud. Oh so loud that after a few seconds he needs to muffle himself by sucking on your neck.

“I love you too”, you whimper, “my loving counterpart.”

“Oh”, he sobs and pulls you closer, “my soulmate”, he squeaks and tenses up again, “no-not done. Ah!”

“Let it all out, fill me up Bunny. Please don’t hold back.”

Jungkook paints you white until it drips out of you and his body’s strength forsakes him. The comedown is intense. Because Jungkook never stopped fucking you even after your high stopped, you never got to calm down and because Jungkook fucked himself to the point of ruin he feels just as needing for your embrace.

“Are you okay?” he whimpers.

“Yeah. You?” you get out.

“Yeah.”

He shivers and twitches on top of you, blanketing you in under his body weight and the real covers. They slipped off his back in the rough fucking so that now, they are only covering your lower bodies. You don’t feel cold because you have him keeping you warm.

Neither you nor him can talk for the first few minutes, sharing forced silence as your brains try to relearn how to speak. His ears are ringing, you can feel your pulse in your head. You are both sweaty, the heat grows in your bodies now that you are so melted together. His cock softens slowly, still filling you up and keeping most of his seed inside. Good. You don’t want him to leave yet.

You finally have him back after more than a month and you would be a fool to break the connection sooner than necessary. You know that sooner or later you will have to stop this. Not only because of your important post-sex pee, but also because Jungkook can’t fall asleep like this.

At least this is what you believe. Jungkook is in the midst of drifting off to sleep. Jetlag, stress and exhaustion are finally catching up with him. Now that his mind is cleared of that initial dulling desire for you, it is finally truly sinking in that he is back home. And being back home means comfort and sleep. Still being inside and having you cockwarm him while your fingers are drawing hearts on his back forces even more sleepiness to the surface. He is home. Sleep can finally come.

“Bunny?” you whisper, scratching up his back gently. Goosebumps follow your touch. He shudders as you drag shivers out of him.

“Hm”, the sound barely wants to leave him. It tickles your neck.

“Are you falling asleep?”

He nods his head slowly.

“Don’t”, you chuckle softly, shaking him by his back gently, “the post sex pee.”

“I’m tired”, he breathes and sighs, “so tired. Work…hell.”

“I know, Bunnybaby I know. But spending your break from it having an UTI is gonna suck.”

“Not yet. Please.”

You give up fighting him, exhaling deeply through your nose. He sounds so needing of what you currently have. You need it as well.

“Fine”, you say and fish for the blanket to pull it over your bodies, “a few more minutes.”

You hug him against you, cradling the back of his head. Jungkook sighs and relaxes on top of you.

“I fucking missed you, Kook.”

“I missed you too.”

2K notes · View notes

belokhvostikova · 2 years ago

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𝐃𝐮𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧 𝐅𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐇𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 | In the simplest terms, Dustin Henderson has essentially become Eddie Munson's biggest cock block.

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | Swearing, brief alcohol consumption, jealousy, mentions of a rough childhood, and explicit sexual content: humping, clit rubbing, pussy slapping, spitting, handjob, oral (male receiving), and ball play.

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞 | Couple uses of "Y/N," sorry. And for maximum enjoyment, please picture Eddie's whiny tantrums from the boat scene for this piece, lol. If there are any necessary warnings that were accidently left out, please feel free to let me know!

𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐬, 𝐃𝐨 𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭.

It started off minor, as most issue occur.

Eddie rather quickly took notice of the particular interest Dustin Henderson took in you.

It was lunch. Though they were essentially just a myriad of—let's be honest here—losers, the judgmental stares of high school boys as you approached and sat at their table was quite worry inducing. Getting through Eddie's hardening exterior was a journey in of itself, and now as his proclaimed girlfriend, you had to experience the journey yet again with his friends, who profoundly expressed their distaste for “your people.” Who knew such popularity within yourself would have caused them to initially despise you this much.

Not Dustin Henderson, though.

At an attempt to ease some of the awkward tension—made only worse when Eddie snapped at everyone to be nice—at the lunch table, you caught sight of Dustin's Weird Al t-shirt, one which he wore proudly, that in all honesty made you giggle. Ever since then, Dustin Henderson hasn’t been able to let go of the fact that he made a pretty girl laugh.

He clung onto you like a lifeline.

Eddie had a temper. He was always revved up. And seeing how often Dustin was conjuring a conversation with you, seeking your attention, truly made him ballistic. He didn't like sharing. Even if it was harmless. Ever since the officially introduction at lunch, it has been nothing but:

"Hey, check out my new comic book! It's limited edition!"

"Wanna help me with my science project? You're just so smart, it would really help. Maybe we can meet at the library?"

"Do you wanna see Alien with me? Lucas is going with Max, and you can join me." The fuck?! That was practically a double-date to Eddie.

The one that truly hurt him the most was two weeks ago, when you congratulated the stupid, little shit—Eddie's words, not yours—with one of your loving, sweet hugs for getting an A+ on said science project.

You used to always hug Eddie when he made good grades.

But, hey, maybe Eddie was just overreacting, right? But what the hell constitutes overreacting and not rightful-reacting, when some noisy freshman, who can't seem to grasp the simple concept of boundaries, once again oversteps, making him have blue balls, because all he wanted was to cum in his girlfriend's mouth, but apparently that's too much to ask!

Eddie huffed.

You stared incredulous.

"'Rightful-reacting.'" You tried to suppress the giggle, you really did, but you couldn't help but laugh at his dramatic wording, when he had dragged you away into his bedroom to vitalize this reoccurring issue.

Eddie moved close, right to your face, gripping tightly on your shoulders, looking like a crazed man. Hell, it was Dustin's fault. "Sweetheart, you're focusing on the wrong thing here." He heaved. "That little dingus has been ruining my life for the past week; only speaking to you, interrupting date nights, calling twenty-four seven, and now impeding our sexy time!"

"'Impeding our sexy time.'" Biting your lip did nothing to stop the emerging smile and laugh on your face. God, you loved the hell out of him.

"Would you quit that!" He whined with a theatric shake to your shoulders to get back to the point.

"Sorry, sorry," you placed on your best serious expression, "go ahead, explain."

"Explain?! Do you not remember what happened Saturday?"

Ah, Saturday. It was 11:42 p.m. Eddie—more so his insatiable appetite—had the bright idea of heading to Benny's Diner for the greasiest food to fill his stomach. It was late, and the diner had been empty with the exception of the older waitress smoking near the coffee pot, and he pulled you closely against his side, arm wrapped around waist, and toying with the soft cotton of your pajama shorts that rested against your thigh.

You moaned at the sweetness of the cold milkshake savoring your mouth. "Mm, you want some?" You offered to Eddie.

He was captivated, totally entranced by the pucker of your lips that held the creamy residue, "Mhm, yeah, I do." He whispered.

When you attempted to hand him the cold glass, he gently pushed your hand away, and consumed your mouth in a matter of seconds. The grease from his burger softened his lips, letting the pillowy feeling encapsulate you. Your hands naturally found solace on his jaw, prompting him to continue his movements, hands gripping your smooth thighs to keep you in place. As you parted your lips, Eddie's tongue snaked its way inside, officially getting a taste of that sweet vanilla that you had just swallowed.

"God, baby, you taste so good." He mewled against your lips.

His hand traveled up to your neck, securing your face in his palm, and you let your will fall in his control. His tongue prodded against yours, and the wet sounds of your spit exchanging grew entirely too inappropriate for Benny's establishment, though he didn't care. It was late, he wanted you, and no one was around.

Or so he thought.

"Gross, your gonna suffocate her!" Mike's grimacing voice broke your make out session.

While your cheeks flushed with embarrassment, Eddie scoffed, unbothered. He rolled his eyes, glaring back at Mike, who justly looked appalled, and then there was Dustin, who had that bright, big smile on his face that Eddie was starting to grow annoyed with.

"Well, hey guys!" Dustin greeted with joy. "Funny seeing you here!"

"Isn't it past your bedtimes?" Eddie jumped straight into it.

"Nice to see you, too, Eddie." Dustin smiled. Eddie watched as the kid turned to you, eyes lighting up and everything. "Hi, Y/N!"

"Hey, Dustin." You politely greeted. Unlike Eddie, you didn't have it in you to be so blunt with disdain. "Um, what are you guys doing here so late?"

Dustin jumped with delight, quickly taking your question as an invitation to sit on the dingy booth across from you and Eddie. "Well, since you asked, Mike and I just spent the last five hours completing all twenty-seven games of Combat on my Atari!"

"Wow, that's incredible," Eddie feigned amazement, his sarcasm oozing out obviously, "now that you've told us, go." He gritted.

"Yeah, man, we have to get our food before my mom finds out we left and kills me." Mike extended, still waiting at the end of the table.

But not for long, as Dustin held a tight grip on his agile wrist, pulling him to the seating. "Nonsense, we just got here."

Eddie laughed. Not a good laugh. One of those scary laughs he pulls when he's on the precipice of enragement. "Oh, absolutely not!" His fist slammed on the table. Everyone flinched.

Dustin sneeringly dismissed Eddie, turning to you. "You don't mind if we stay, right? You always said you would welcome us."

Eddie couldn't believe his eyes. Your kindness was actively being exploited, and he watched in disbelief as you opened and closed your mouth to speak, but only an awkward laugh escaped. You peered at Dustin, back at Eddie, then to Dustin again. "Um, s-sure, I guess..."

Dustin whooped with excitement.

"Great." Eddie mumbled to himself.

You shot him an apologetic look that just exuded the words "I'm really sorry, I promise I'll make it up to you." Eddie's anger wasn’t directed at you, and he made sure you understood with a shake to his head to acknowledge, "I'm not mad at you."

He may not have been mad at you, but he was fucking furious with Dustin Henderson.

"You remember?" Eddie's words snapped you from the memory of Saturday night’s diner incident, suddenly brining you back to the setting of Eddie’s room.

You quickly nodded your head.

"Yeah, see." He proved. "And what about Sunday morning?"

Following the events of Saturday, Eddie had slept over yours, letting the resided angry dissolve as he held you in his embrace. He'd been awoken by the succulent smell of your scent, urging his morning hard-on to spring to life against your plushy ass. He tiredly nosed the hair away from the junction of your neck and shoulders to place languid kisses against your skin. His hand snaked over your hip, toying with the cute bow that was situated on the front of your lacy underwear. With a hand on your pelvis, he pushed you back against his boner, letting his wet kisses and pressuring cock stir you awake.

A sleepy whine left your pouting lips, and Eddie nearly busted at the sound of it. "Fuck, baby, you gonna let me use you?" He kissed your neck. "So fucking hard for you, princess, got me dreaming about that pussy in my sleep."

You turned your head, letting both of your lips meet in the middle, as Eddie increased the speed of his hips to hump the globes of your ass. His fingertips soon gathered a firmhold of the front of your panties, pulling upward harshly. You choked on your breath as the fabric of your underwear wedge between your puffy pussy lips, igniting the friction against your pulsating clit. You quickly began to feel the icky sensation of his precum dampening your ass, while your slick soaked your underwear, making you a wet mess all around.

"Let me have your pussy, please, baby." He groaned.

You nodded your head with permission, "Fuck, yes, please."

Eddie was quick to pull your panties from your legs, discarding the piece haphazardly across your room. Your foot hooked behind his leg to keep you nice and open, and just as his fingers were about to pleasure you seeping pussy, the phone rang.

The phone fucking rang.

You flinched at the abrupt noise that was blaring on your bedside table, and Eddie's head dropped against your shoulder in disappointment, a groan muffled by your shirt. "Just fucking ignore it, sweetheart."

"Real quick, I promise, just to make sure everything's good." You swore, as you reached for the phone.

That wasn't going to stop Eddie Munson, though. Right as you picked up, the tips of his finger pressed against your clit, eliciting a shaky "Hello" to escape your mouth. He grinned with satisfaction as he watched your eyes screw shut and your teeth sunk into your plump bottom lip.

But then the next words you uttered truly set him off.

"Oh, h-hi, Dustin."

"What?!" Eddie screamed into your ear. "Hang up the phone right now."

He was stern with his words, and stern with his movements. The pace of fingers quickened, along with your breaths and his patience.

You held up a finger to signal Eddie to hold on, as you tried your absolute best to comprehend the conversation that Dustin was attempting to have with you. "So, yeah, would you like to go to the arcade this afternoon?"

"I- Dustin, now's, uh, now is not r-really a good time- fuck." You gasped softly.

"Yeah, so fucking hang up." Eddie whispered against your cheek, as his hand slide between your wet folds, gathering all of your arousal and coming back to rubbing your pretty clit.

"Why not? Everything alright?" If it wasn’t for the current situation, you would have appreciated the kid’s concern.

"Yeah, yeah- yes!" That response was definitely not to Dustin. "Um, yes, j-just busy with Eds." You breathed out in order to filter out your moans.

"That's right, so fucking hang up!" Eddie yelled loud enough for Dustin to hear, as it was intended towards him, and his hand pulled back, slapping your cunt, the stinging vibrations traveling through your sensitive clit.

"Fuck! Gotta go." The second you slammed the phone back to the receive, Eddie rushed to climb on top of you, swallowing your wails with his hungry lips.

Meanwhile, Dustin was just left dumbfounded, staring at the deadline of his phone.

"Do you see what I'm talking about, baby?" Eddie emphasized, hands cupping your face, pleading that you'd understand.

Snapping back to reality from the memory, you were quick to nod your head again. "Yeah, yeah. Sorry about that."

"No, it's not you." He stressed. "That little shit just knows how to work his way around you. That's why he fucking came here today."

Now, today was Eddie's last straw. At least Sunday morning, he was able to get rid of Dustin and have you all to himself, but today? Today, Dustin ruined one of Eddie's favorite moment with you. A blowjob.

It was late into the evening, as Eddie splayed himself on the worn couch of his living room. His legs lazily rested over the armrest, as he nursed down a beer that was keeping him sane from having to listen the Happy Days theme song that he grew profoundly annoyed with, but he was too lazy to move and grab the remote. It'd been quite a long day for him. During third period, Mrs. Lineker shoved a pop quiz in his face, which he knew he flunked. To top it off, you had missed lunch under the guise that Chrissy Cunningham stole you away to “work on cheer routines.” As if that's not what practice is for, Eddie rolled his eyes at your kidnapping, which he proclaimed it was.

And now you actually were at practice, gone and away from Eddie when he really needed you. That was until he heard the gentle knocking coming from his front door, which he had learned was you. You entered with a bright smile that washed all of Eddie's irritations away. He truly did have a soft spot for you, and only you.

"Hi!" You happily greeted, as you situated yourself on his lap, arms snaking around his neck.

"Hi, baby." He tiredly smiled, as he caressed your sides. "You're back early."

"Yeah, coach cut practice, so I was able to get home and shower to come see you." A shy grin flushed his face as you pecked his nose with a cute kiss.

Who knew this mean guy could crack under nose kisses?

"Good," he huffed, bringing you impossibly close, "been a shit day barely being able to see you. People always stealing you away." He grumbled.

In truth, behind his domineering demeanor that seemed untouchable to anyone, Eddie was quite sensitive when it came to his feelings for you. His biggest fears lied dormant under his tough exterior, only exposing itself in the presence of a safe environment, and it became evident as he hugged you tight, because he truly feared someone would steal you away. Whether it was as superficial as Dustin Henderson seeking your attention, or potentially serious as Chrissy Cunningham who still remained unsure of your relationship after the bullshit Jason Carver fed her. He was terrified that one day you'd listen to your friends and leave. How the hell was Eddie Munson, "Freak" of Hawkins High, suppose to provide you with all the things you deserved?

He did, though. Eddie Munson gave you everything.

"I know, I'm sorry." You whispered, as you kissed his pouty lips.

But he simply shook his head, rejecting your apology. "Don't apologize." He insisted. "It's not your fault you're so lovable."

A smile emerged on his face as he made you giggle. You cupped his cheeks, and gently brushed a couple strands of his bangs to fully capture his eyes that just captivated you.

"You're so lovable, too, Eddie." He deserved to know. "I love loving you."

You gave him a firm, long kiss to solidify your words as fact, because it was. No matter how much he denied it in his overthinking head.

"I love loving you, too, princess."

Your hand traveled down his chest, exposing the bareness, as he only laid in an unbuttoned plaid shirt. "Can I show you how much I love loving you?" He immediately recognized that look in your eyes that always paired so beautifully with your salacious smile.

He blushed under your insinuation, dick twitching and goosebumps rising as your fingertips brushed his happy trail. "I don't want you to think that you have to make it up to me."

"Oh, I know." You kissed his cheek. "But I just really want to. So can I, Eddie? Can I suck your cock?"

"Fuck." His groaned, as you grabbed his semi through his sweatpants. "If I ever answer "no" to that, sweetheart, I want you to take one of Wayne's hunting guns and shoot me with it."

You laughed as you settled between his legs, and he relaxed himself on the armrest of the couch. You opened his shirt further, and ran your hands against his chest and belly before grabbing his sweatpants and shimmying them down his hips. You rubbed his hardening length, planting a quick kiss, before pulling it out of his boxers.

"Fuck, yeah, baby." He cooed, watching your small, delicate hand wrap around his cock to languidly jerk it.

You peered up at him, and quickly crawled up close to his face. "Spit in my mouth, Eddie."

He cursed under his breath, as you felt his dick jump at the request. Unable to formulate words, he quickly nodded. Grabbing your chin, he pulled you into a messy, open-mouthed make out, where his tongue lavished against yours. Soon, his grip stiffened, preventing you from closing your tingling lips. You mewled at the sensation of Eddie's spit invading your mouth, a warm globe situated on your tongue.

You pulled back from his hold, aiming down to his cock, where you parted your lips to let his spit coat himself. “Oh, my fuck- just looking at you is gonna make me cum.”

His abs contracted as you held a firm grip to his cock, jerking the spit to his base and up and around his blistering red head. You suctioned on his frenulum, eliciting the sweet moans he desperately tried to hold back. "Shit, baby, oh my god." He muttered.

You kissed down his shaft, eventually nosing the fuzzy skin of his balls, that tensed at your arrival. Peering up with your large doe eyes, Eddie swore under his breath, meeting your contact, and raking his hand through your hair.

"Yes, princess, suck on my balls." He moaned, as your tongue ravished his taste. "Fuck, get 'em all messy for me, baby, please."

As your left hand jerked him, your right held a tight grip between his thigh and balls to secure all access from his opened legs. Soon enough, you popped one of his large balls into your mouth, his musky scent invading your senses.

"Shit, shit- fuck, make me feel good, sweetheart. God, I'm gonna give you everything I got, baby, just keep sucking." He whimpered.

His hand was yanking the roots of your hair, shoving your nose against the curls of his pubic hair, as your hand circled around his oozing tip. Dating Eddie had led you onto the beautiful journey of learning all his sweet spots, so you knew to massage the area beneath his balls, which quickly proved right, as his body twitched at the mere sensation.

"Oh, fuck, I'm gonna cum!"

With a wet pop, you switched to his other throbbing ball, enjoying the sight of his sticky bangs framing his face and eyes fluttering shut. It was pure fucking heaven for Eddie Munson.

Until it turned into straight hell.

*Knock, knock, knock,* "Hey, guys!"

Dustin. Fucking. Henderson.

Now, Eddie knew he was an asshole; every insult, shove, push, punch, and crime he's ever committed flooded his mind as to what might be the cause of his bad karma. He knew he made bad decisions in his life that very much came to an inconvenience to everyone else in Hawkins, but he never claimed to be virtuous man. But did he really deserve this? This punishment? This torment? This torture?

"Hello? You guys in there?" God, the kid's voice came out like nails on a chalk board to Eddie.

He watched the front door, praying to a god that he sure as hell didn't believe in, that Dustin would leave. But his attention quickly snapped to you, when you dropped one of his balls from his mouth.

You heaved, "We should sto-"

"No, no, no, no, no!" Eddie whined, quickly shoving your head down his cock, quietly moaning at the gag you urged from the forceful intrusion to your throat. "S-sorry, I really need this. Ignore him."

So, you did.

Your tongue swiveled around his shaft, lips dragging the wetness of spit, slobber, drool, and precum up and down his length, as you hollowed in your cheeks to speed along his impending orgasm.

But the knocking was insistent.

"Hey! I know you're in there! I see both your cars out here!" Dustin yelled.

God, this wasn't happening, Eddie thought. It can't be! By far, one of the messiest and best blowjobs he's ever received was being interrupted at this very moment. Not to mention, every time Dustin knocked or spoke, all he got was a mental image of the curly-haired kid that hurdled his orgasm back from release.

Just focus on your beautiful girlfriend sucking on your cock, your beautiful girlfriend sucking on your cock, your beautiful girlfriend sucking on your co-

"Come on, guys! Eddie?! Y/N?!"

You pulled off. Eddie wanted to cry. "Maybe we should stop?" You suggested sympathetically.

Letting go of your head, Eddie dropped his face into his hands in defeat. You felt bad, you honestly did. But there was no way you could continue sucking his dick as Dustin's presence loomed right outside. You sat back on your heels as you watched Eddie huff. There was no longer sadness. Just pure fucking rage.

He stood from the couch, pulling his sweats up, and grabbing a throw pillow to cover his throbbing cock that bulged through the material. He footsteps echoed loudly, each stomp shaking the weak foundation of the trailer. You feared for Dustin's fate.

Throwing the door open, Eddie didn't let Dustin mutter single word of salutations. "What?! What, in the absolute fuck do you want?! What the fuck?!"

Dustin flinched back at Eddie's screams, agitation consuming the kid's face, as every ounce of spit had doused his head from the yelling. Though clearly frightened from Eddie's killing looks, Dustin knew he wouldn't hurt him, especially not in front of you. He was smart. Brushing away the spurts of spit, Dustin merely sauntered past Eddie and into the trailer.

Completely disregarding Eddie, Dustin spoke, "God, who pissed in his cornflakes, am I right?" With a loud giggle, as he sat next to you.

You, who could only awkwardly laugh and rub an remaining drool from your chin that didn't reveal what you were just doing.

Eddie's mouth dropped at Dustin's actions, watching the young boy get comfortable right on the spot that he was just receiving head. If this was a cartoon, steam would be blowing from Eddie's ears. Honestly, if you squinted hard enough, you could probably see it.

"Are you fucking insane?!" Eddie shouted. "Did I say you could fucking come in?! Get out!”

Eddie truly was getting scary at this point, you'd never seen him so angry, it was jarring. Dustin curled into your side, knowing any potential harm wouldn't be done with you by his side. So, he crossed his arms, "No, I just got here."

"Why?!" Eddie threw the couch pillow he was holding—boner long gone—at Dustin's head.

"Because I wanna hang out!" Dustin yelled back. "We're friends, remember." Eddie didn't appreciate the rhetorical question that Dustin implied with stupidity.

"You have other fucking friends!"

God, it was times like these you wished you had the guts to be confrontation.

"No." Dustin pointed out matter of factly. "Mike is on the phone with El, and Lucas went to the comic book store with Max. They're all with their girlfriends."

Eddie pulled his hair as if he was going insane. You'd never seen his eyes so wide. "I'm with my girlfriend, you little shit!" He pointed to you.

Dustin turned to look at you. Oh, no. You knew what was coming.

"Well, Y/N, do you want me to stay?"

"U-um-"

"No!" Eddie quickly interjected. "You don't get to fucking talk to her! She's my girlfriend!"

"Well, she's my friend!"

Eddie breathed out a couple times to catch his breath. His adrenaline was pulsating like crazy, and he was doing everything in his will power to not choke the kid out. "Alright." He panted. "You wanna stay. Stay." Eddie reached for your hand and pulled you from the couch. "But we're not staying with you."

He began guiding you to his room, as Dustin scoffed. "Eddie." You attempted to plead.

"Nope." He was stern with his stance. "Not fucking staying with him."

Eddie had dragged you into his room with a loud slam to his door. And that's where you were right now, in the low light of his bedroom as he reiterated all the interrupted moments caused by Dustin.

"That little shit just knows how to work his way around you. That's why he fucking came here today." Eddie groaned, as he finished his stressing tirade.

"Well, I don't know what to do." You gently spoke to calm his aggravated nerves.

“You gotta give it to him straight, sweetheart." Eddie urged. "He won't fucking leave until you tell him to."

"But I can't do that to him." You pouted. "That's mean."

God, you were so fucking cute. But cute isn't what he needs right now. "Baby, you've been dating me long enough that some of me has had to rub off on you."

You groaned, entirely out of your comfort zone. "Fine, but you have to calm down." You pointed, the best austere look you could muster, discipling him like a kid.

Eddie giggled at you. "Sure, anything for you." He kissed your tense forehead. "Sorry for the yelling."

After a couple more kisses and breaths, you both made your way back to the living room, Dustin still sitting at the same spot, smug look to his face. "Well, that was pretty fast. Miss me already?" Was it wrong that Eddie wanted to punch him right then and there?

"Actually, she needs to tell you something." Eddie sneered back, placing you right on the spot. He sat you right on the coffee table in front of Dustin, standing behind and massaging your shoulders, keeping his hands busy from connecting with Dustin's face. "Go on, babe. Tell him."

"Um, well, Dustin, w-we were thinking that maybe it's best if we have a-a little... alone time." You were walking on eggshells trying to keep both heavily opinionated boys at bay. God, they were more alike than they realized.

"What?" Dustin looked shocked at your revelation.

"What she means is, get out." Eddie smiled with glee.

Dustin scoffed, "What did you do to her?! I know you just made her say that!"

"What?!" So much for being calm. "I didn't make her do anything! She's tired of you always butting in, just too nice to say it! But I'll say it, you're driving us crazy, get out!"

"Shut up! Both of you!" Dustin and Eddie instantaneously quieted down at your newfound voice that they never once heard above its usual soft-spoken octave. "You're both driving me crazy!"

"Well, he started it. Always trying to take your attention." Eddie grumbled.

"Attention?! Are you jealous? Of me? I’m fourteen, you’re like old as shit!"

That snapped Eddie.

He tried to lunge at Dustin, "Okay! Okay!" But you were quick to hug his waist and pull him back. Dustin, of course, dramatically shrieked and fell back onto the couch as if he got hit.

Too much yelling, and too much hair was flying around for your liking. You were going to explode with stress.

"Look, Dustin, we love spending time with you, really, but there are times when Eddie and I just want to be alone together!"

"Yeah!" Eddie laughed at the young boy's sullen face.

But you were quick to turn back to Eddie. "And you! You have got to stop being so mean!" You got close and whispered to him directly. "I know this is rooted deeper for you, but I'm not leaving you, Eddie. Ever. For anyone. Get that through your head. You have every right to be annoyed, but don't so callous towards him or anyone, in general."

Eddie sighed, nodding his head, and understanding your words. Finally, a moment of clarity. He rubbed the wrinkles of your furrowed brows, clearly stressed from having to be placed in the middle of their quarrel. "Yeah, yeah, sorry, baby, you're right."

He leaned down, placing a loving kiss to your lips that denoted all his admiration for you. You both understood his underlying insecurities, and how they transcribed from his shitty childhood. Eddie Munson so undeservingly got dealt a bad hand at life that his pure heart shouldn't have had to endure. But the beauty of Eddie Munson was that his pure heart still remained, even if it was picky with the people it opened up to. You were beyond please you were one of them. Because you loved loving Eddie Munson. And Eddie knew you were worth fixing said issues; anger, insecurity, jealousy. Even if it took a lot of time and a lot of risk. But your heart and face eased his worries. He'd do anything for you.

"Hey, uh," Shit, you almost forgot Dustin was still there, "I'm really sorry, too." Dustin appeared guilty as can be. "I didn't mean to be so annoying."

"No, you're not annoying-"

"Well..."

"Eddie." You swatted his chest.

"Kidding, kidding." He threw his hands up, a chuckle leaving his mouth. "I'm kidding, Dustin."

"Look, it's just nice to know someone like you actually wants to be my friend." Dustin smiled.

"Like me?" You questioned.

"Yeah, you know, funny, popular, and sweet." He nervously played with his hands.

"Aw, Dustin." You hugged him, Eddie playfully scoffed at the melting look blushing over Dustin's face, clearly loving your affection. "You're so cute, but you don't have to prioritize my friendship over the others."

"Yeah, what the hell does she got that I don't?" Eddie smiled, as you rolled your eyes and Dustin at least laughed. He marched over and ruffled Dustin's curls. "Seriously, you getting tired of us in Hellfire?" Eddie teased.

"No, never." Dustin smiled.

"Good, we need you at Hellfire. Who else are we gonna sacrifice during our DnD campaign next week?"

"What?!" Eddie barked out a laugh, as Dustin eventually caught on and eased his heart from the potential worry. "Don't scare me like that."

"But it's so fun." Eddie chuckled.

"Okay, so are we good here? No more yelling?" You assured, pointing at both with your chastising demeanor.

"Yeah, yeah, we're good." Eddie soothed your arm. "Sorry for the stress, baby."

"Yeah, sorry." Dustin added. "But do you really want me to leave?" he peered between both of you.

"Look, kid, how about this," Eddie began, "I'll take you to the comic store, where I'm sure Lucas and Max are still there. Can spend the day with them, while we have our time," he proffered, "and in return, you can stop by tomorrow when Y/N is staying over and work on one segment of our upcoming campaign."

You'd never seen Dustin's face light up so brightly before. "Really? I can help you with DnD?"

"Only one segment." Eddie clarified. "Don't need your mouth blabbin' to the others."

"Deal!"

You could physically feel the weight on your shoulders release as all tension was gone. While Eddie briefly left to change, you made sure to place in an order for pizza, as you both felt deserving of a nice meal after the ensemble that had just occurred. Eddie returned with his jacket in hand and his shoes untied, too unbothered to care.

"I'll be back soon, sweetheart, I'll be sure to be quick," He leaned in planting a wet smooch on your cheek and whispered in your ear, "because my dick still kinda hurts from not cumming."

#stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson blurb #dustin henderson

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hvnsools · 9 months ago

Text

lost you (Simon Riley one shot)

Simon "Ghost" Riley x female reader

Summary: Simon was injured during a mission and confesses to his girlfriend what he has been thinking.

word count: 990

note: English isn't my first language but i have done my best, sorry for any mistakes.

★ masterlist here

★ spanish ver on wattpad (hvnsools)

She knew it would happen one day, but there was a part of her that thought it was really just her paranoia.

When someone interrupted her at the shooting range, it didn't seem unusual to her. She knew something was wrong when the other girl's face reflected total concern, but mostly nerves, she lowered her weapon when she felt tension in her muscles and looked at the girl in confusion.

The words that came out of her mouth managed to break her completely: Simon had been hurt.

She felt her ears close to any other words and barely heard clearly the last thing the girl had said to her.

She ran through the hallways without caring that her vision was blurry, she swore she had bumped into someone, but she didn't pay attention. Her mind had been blocked, no words coming out of her mouth when she reached the infirmary, but since it was a small base, everyone knew each other and the nurse knew perfectly well the reason for her presence.

"He's fine." The nurse spoke in a soft voice in an attempt to calm her down, but (Y/N)'s hands were still shaking.

"Where?"

"Come on, I'll take you to him."

She nodded and let the nurse guide her to one of the rooms in the infirmary. She tried mentally prepare herself to see Simon hurt, regardless of whether it was a small wound or something more, however, that attempt was useless.

When the nurse opened the door for her, she felt her world collapse for the second time.

Simon was there, on the stretcher with his shoulder and part of his chest bandaged. He seemed sleepy or maybe he was already asleep, but her mind was not concentrating enough at that time, the nurse didn't say anything, she knew that she was a nuisance there, so she withdrew slowly to leave them alone.

When (Y/N) approached him, she knew he wasn't asleep because of the slight way he moved, she sighed with a mixture of relief, but still felt the heaviness in her chest.

"Someone told me that you put yourself in the middle of a bullet" she murmured as Simon half-opened his eyes. He wanted to smile, but he still didn't feel strength in his body. "You're an Idiot." And although he didn't have enough strength, he let out a giggle that made her heart feel warm.

For a second, she thought she would never hear those little laughs he used to let out every time they talked.

"I'm sorry." he murmured. He closed his eyes again; he felt that he had put in too much effort in the last few minutes and the medications really weren't that strong.

(Y/N) sighed and took a seat next to him. Her hands slid gently down his torso until they reached one of his hands, she squeezed it tightly in hers and tried her best not to cry.

He was fine, he was there. The man she loved the most and had been her boyfriend for years was fine. She always knew that he could get hurt at any moment, it could happen to her too and it was something they both had to deal with every day.

"You look terrible," she joked, causing a muffled laugh to leave Simon's lips once again.

"It's what you want to hear from your girlfriend after getting shot."

She smiled slightly and knew she had done a good job of trying to cheer him up a little, even in her worst moments, it was something they always did.

She sighed and brought his hand to her lips, brushing his warm skin. Simon was warm even in that state, (Y/N) hated silence, yet her mind was blank, what could they talk about? She didn't want to make him feel bad by talking about how much she worried about his condition, she knew that would make him feel worse.

Then, something came to her mind… Happy memories. Simon had always told her that if something like this happened, he wanted to hear her talk about happy memories, she ran her fingers gently through his hair and sighed.

"Do you remember our first date?" she murmured and it only took a few seconds for Simon to nod. "When I said yes, you turned to leave and fell on the floor."

They both laughed. Simon's laugh had been so slow and muffled that she couldn't feel bad, she hated seeing him that way, the thought that her boyfriend could end up hurt had always been there, she never thought it could come true.

"I was happy." He smiled. (Y/N) nodded, it had been an exceptional moment and every time she had the chance, she mentions it.

She remained silent, she couldn't stop thinking about the pain he must be feeling at that moment, she wanted to continue talking about their dates, about what they had experienced, but she felt a knot in her throat. Her boyfriend's body had relaxed and she assumed the medications had finally taken effect.

"I'm so sorry."

Simon opened his eyes again, he was dazed, but her presence made him feel comforted, her hands around his were enough to know he would be okay.

Why did she keep apologizing if she hadn't done anything?

"Hey, come here." He shifted gently, trying to ignore the pain of his wound, making enough room for both of them.

She shook her head and let go of his hand. She knew him too well to know that he was just trying not to think about the pain, she didn't want to hurt him even more.

"I'm going to hurt you and…" Simon cut her off.

"I'll be fine, this arm it's okay."

(Y/N) thought about it for several seconds. She knew that at any moment the nurse would return and she would have to go back to the barracks because, no matter how much she was willing to beg, they wouldn't allow her to be there and they wouldn't allow Simon to return to his room either.

After letting out a sigh, she gently slid to his side, her movements were slow, so much so that Simon couldn't help but giggle due to the delicacy of her movements with the intention of not hurting him.

She leaned her head on his shoulder and sighed, he wrapped his arm around her, trying to hug her against his bare torso as much as possible.

"I'm okay." He tried to reassure her, but he knew that no matter how many times he repeated those words, she would still be worried.

"Have I ever told you how important you are to me?"

Simon nodded and smiled. (Y/N) was someone who always made an effort to talk about her emotions, and it wasn't at all unusual for her to mention to her boyfriend what a big role he played in her life.

"I know." He murmured and leaned down to place a kiss on her forehead. "You are to me too."

They were both silent, but even with the medications, Simon's mind couldn't stop working. There was something that had been going through his head for the last few weeks, he had everything planned, but he still had that insecurity inside him.

The insecurity of her saying no.

"Have you ever thought about… marriage?" he asked quietly. If she said no, he could blame the medications later.

That shot had been enough to make him think about that kind of thing, it was stupid, teenage Simon would never have thought about marriage in his life.

"Maybe" she murmured nervously. Her hands had trembled slightly and her body tensed, something that did not go unnoticed by Simon. "And you?"

"Maybe…" He answered in the same way. Simon always did that after asked a question: he would answer exactly the same thing as her.

She giggled and closed her eyes for a few seconds. She was nervous, she didn't know how to answer that question because yes, she had once thought about marriage and felt it was a stupid thing to think about when there were so many more problems she needed to focus on first.

But she had talked about it with those close to her more than once and when everyone mentioned that marriage was eventually a step she should take, she had started to think about it.

On the other hand, there was Simon's mentality. Too many things had happened in his life, most of them not very positive, he had felt lost for more than half his life and for the first time he felt like he had something good, something he didn't want to let go of and was willing to go through all the stages of it.

Of course, the beautiful ones.

However, it seemed disrespectful to ask those kinds of questions if he didn't even know her point of view, he wasn't going to come with a ring and put pressure on her just to forced her to say yes.

"Honestly, yes," she murmured after a while. She almost felt her stomach in her throat, she had always been honest with her feelings, but this was something different, this was a really serious conversation. "It's stupid, but yeah… Marriage sounds good with you."

Simon closed his eyes for a few seconds, he did his best not to smile. He had wanted to hear those words for several months.

"Do you know what I'll do when I get out of here?"

"Go to training?" she joking, causing him to smile.

"No, I will find a way to make you my wife." He whispered, sending shivers down her body.

(Y/N) closed her eyes for a few seconds. She loved the feeling of having him close, especially after feeling like her world had completely collapsed when she received that news.

She couldn't stop her mind from wandering, starting to think about the thousands of scenarios in which she could receive that question, thinking about the day she was going to wake up and everything around her changing. She couldn't wait.

Her bubble burst when the nurse entered the room. (Y/N) sighed and tried her hardest not to roll her eyes, she knew it was time to leave, but she didn't want to leave him there, she couldn't.

"Lieutenant, you have to go."

She lifted her face only to meet Simon's. He quickly noticed the disappointment on her face and couldn't help but feel guilty.

"I'll be back tomorrow," she murmured and Simon could only nod.

She leaned down to press her lips against his for short seconds. Finally, she separated from him and walked away slowly, she could feel the nurse's intense gaze even as she passed by her, but even that wasn't enough to stop a smile from forming on her face.

Now she was an engaged woman… Well, almost.

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cookiesandbiscuits · 6 months ago

Text

A Test of Sincerity

Pairing: Lucifer x GN! Reader

Genre: Fluff (I don't really know what genre this is exactly)

Summary: After his failed attempt to test you, Lucifer now finds himself bothered with the silent treatment you're giving him, so he decides to apologize and end it once and for all. They say the way to a man's heart is their stomach; surely the same can be said to you, right?

A/N: I promised to make this so here is my retelling of Lucifer's Devilgram story "Trust and Poison"! (Can you tell how much I adore this story? 😆)

This is basically his side of the story, but with a few add-ons (or cut-offs) since I dont remember the story well despite loving it so much =w=;

I hope you enjoy!

Warning: Spoilers for the Devilgram "Trust and Poison"

MASTERLIST

You weren't someone to be trusted.

That was the sentence Lucifer's mind kept repeating whenever he thought of you.

His brothers might find you endearing, but not him. Not when you were already so familiar of his and his brothers' unique quirks despite just meeting them. Not when you were closely acquainted with the sorcerer Solomon, who is known not only for his incredible power but also for his infamous reputation of making demons submit to his will. Not when you have your way of making him lower his guard, as if he had known you for years.

Surely, you must be hiding something. Something that can affect, or worse, harm his brothers.

He will uncover it, no matter what it takes. And he has a perfect plan for it.

He relishes the way your expression slowly morph into panic as he placed the shiny red apple in front of you.

It was no ordinary apple. It was the Apple of Truth. While it may look like a mouth-watering, juicy apple at first glance, it has the power to kill even a demon if they tell a lie before eating it.

Yes, this was his perfect plan.

If you really were telling the truth, you'd take a bite from the apple and be able to tell the tale. But if not... well, let's just say he'll be glad with the result either way.

A sinister smile formed on Lucifer's lips.

"Well? Answer me. Are you really a demon?"

CREAK

"Lucifer? You're still here?"

Of all the time to– Lucifer clicked his tongue in annoyance.

"What is it, Beel?"

"I'm just here to grab something I forgot... Is that an apple? It looks delicious."

"W-wait...!"

"Beel, no!"

Before the two of you were able to stop him, the sixth-born had already swallowed the apple. And with it, the plan Lucifer had oh-so carefully crafted disappears. It was hard to convince Barbatos to give the apple to him, too.

But what caught the Avatar of Pride off-guard was the panicked look on your face— which was not directed to yourself but to his younger brother.

"Beel, are you okay?! Do you feel weird?! Does your stomach hurt–?!"

"I'm okay... I think. Why? What is it?" Beel tilted his head in confusion.

You let out a sigh of relief before glaring daggers at Lucifer, as if he had done the most horrible thing on the three realms.

"Well, it seems that my job is done for the day, so I'll be taking my leave. I'll be back for tomorrow."

"......."

A loud thud echoed as you closed the door of the assembly hall.

"What?" The eldest said in irritation when he felt the eyes of his brother on him.

He only did what he had to do, Lucifer says in his mind, trying to justify his actions.

Yet why did he still feel so guilty whenever he sees you?

A few days had passed since his failed attempt to uncover your secret, and you have taken it up to yourself to give him the silent treatment.

He doesn't want to admit it, but it has been bothering him ever since. It has gotten to the point that his brothers also go silent when the two of you were in the same room, making the situation more awkward.

Today, however, he decided that enough was enough.

"Is there something you want? I'm planning to buy some snacks in the convenient store."

"I'm actually craving Barbatos's cake today, but I'm fine with anything that's not too spicy. Thanks, Levi."

Another plan forms on Lucifer's mind.

"Are you done for today?"

"......."

His question was met with silence.

"Cancel all your plans this afternoon. You're going to accompany me to the Demon Lord's Castle."

This time, you replied with a glare.

"I won't be taking no as an answer. Now come along."

Lucifer opens the door and beckoned you to go outside first. After a few moments, you complied.

A small smile appeared on Lucifer's face.

.........

You were greeted by the prince and his butler once the two of you arrived on the castle.

"I'm glad you will be joining us for tea today. Come, let us go to the garden!" Diavolo says before leading you and Lucifer deeper into the castle grounds.

"Ahahahaha!"

Lucifer sighed as Diavolo's laugh filled the garden.

"So your plan failed due to Beelzebub's interference, and now they're mad at you. Ahahaha!"

The Avatar of Pride frowned at the crown prince who was clearly amused by the situation.

"It's an awful thing to do! What if something bad happened to Beel?" You ranted.

Diavolo gave you a sympathetic smile in return. "They're right. You shouldn't be testing them, Lucifer."

Lucifer let out another sigh.

"Well, it is perfectly normal to be upset when someone questions your sincerity," Barbatos added. The butler placed a plate of his signature cake in front of you. "Here, have a slice of cake."

"That's why I brought them here as an apology," Lucifer says as he took his teacup from its saucer.

Diavolo looked at him, puzzled. "How is visiting us an apology?"

"They mentioned that they've been wanting to eat Barbatos's cake earlier," Lucifer replied.

This caused you to scoff in offense. "Don't use Barbatos to apologize for your mistake! And stop eavesdropping on other people's conversations!"

"Why, you insolent...!" Lucifer's brow twitched in annoyance as he managed to catch his tongue in the last minute.

He brought you here to resolve the situation, not to make it worse.

"Haha! They might be the only one who could stand up to you like this, Lucifer," Diavolo hummed, definitely enjoying the scene unfolding in front of him.

Taking a deep breath to calm himself, Lucifer took the fork and stabbed the cake with it.

"The fact of the matter is, I brought you here to make up for my mistake, and you want to eat this cake," he says as he takes a piece of cake with the fork and raised it in front of you. "Here. Open wide."

Now, will you take a bite, and accept his apology? Or will you refuse it and force him to look for another way to apologize?

Well, the rest is up to you to decide.

#decided to make it an open ending since you could react either way #not because i can't think of a way to end it #obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me nightbringer #obey me x reader #obey me lucifer #obey me mc #obey me lucifer x reader #obey me lucifer x mc #obey me fluff #cookie writings #most of these were written in the dead of the night 🫠

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goldenlikedayl1ght · 11 months ago

Text

peace - m. murdock

a/n: hi guys! missed you. desperately wanted to write more hoh!reader, so i did it. this can be read on it's own, OR it can be read as a part two to my fic, 'the lakes', which you can read here! feedback always appreciated! <3 warnings: so much damn fluff, suggestive behaviors, like literally tooth rotting fluff! mentions of some abelism but nothing actually happens it's just sort of mentioned. matt hates buffalo chicken pizza, the cold hurts readers ears, also a lot of kissin' and tinnitus because of course there is. word count: 3.0k summary: tinnitus, buffalo chicken pizza, and objections. what more can you ask for from matt murdock? paring: matt murdock x hoh!reader now playing: peace - taylor swift "the devils in the details/but you got a friend in me/would be enough if i could never give you peace?"

There are things that no one teaches you about dating.

There are things that no one teaches you about dating Matt Murdock, a blind man.

There are things that no one teaches you about dating Matt Murdock, a blind man, who has super senses and is also a vigilante.

There are things that no one teaches you about dating Matt Murdock, a blind man, who has super senses and is also a vigilante… while also being deaf.

As you lost your hearing, you knew dating would be difficult. That was never a secret. Your first girlfriend after you started wearing hearing aids once hid them from you as a punishment after an argument. Safe to say that relationship didn’t last long.

One time, you went on a date with a guy who asked in the middle of your dinner, ‘Could you please take off your headphones? It’s cool that they’re Bluetooth but it’s really rude.’ You did not make it to dessert.

Then there was the time that your ex-boyfriend thought you were talking about him in ASL to your mom in front of him. You broke up with him soon after.

And Matt has experienced his fair share of ableism in dating too—Women who thought they could get away with stealing from him because he was blind, or that thought that he just had to have a service dog, and he’d be so cute with one.

So, when you started dating each other, things were obviously different. You weren’t sure how, but the idea of dating another person with a disability never occurred to you. Maybe it was because of how often you found people playing oppression Olympics, a classic game of ‘who has it worse?’ a game you had no interest in playing.

And the struggles you and Matt have in your relationship are never ones represented in rom-coms or in romantic novels. Dating any blind man would have been hardly represented but Matt, with his charm and heightened senses, was completely uncharted waters. And yet, you dive in headfirst.

One of the most romantic things Matt does for you within the first six months of your relationship happens on a cold February day. Winter in New York isn’t over until at least March, so you walk home from work, arm in arm. You decide to stop in for Thai food but decide to stand outside in favor of in the crowded restaurant where Matt would be hearing too many things and you wouldn’t be hearing nearly enough.

But he notices, as he often does, how you squirm in discomfort, waiting for time to pass. Though you do not show it in your face, he hears it in the way you breath deeply to try and relax through whatever it is that’s bothering you. He notices the grip on his arm tightening, even just a bit.

“What’s wrong, bee?” You’re never getting over your fondness for the nickname. But you stay quiet for a second, because you know he can tell if you’re lying.

“My ears hurt.” You hate saying it, because you feel like it’s all you do—yap about your ears and how much they hurt. They hurt from talking on the phone and holding it up to your ear for so long. They hurt from being in loud environments like parties and bars. But dear god, do they hurt right now. And you know exactly why.

“Oh, is it too loud? We could move to a different spot,” he says softly but you shake your head.

“Uh.. No. It’s cold. The cold is bothering my ears.” You explain, and he just nods. But before he can respond, you continue, “They’re in pain when it’s cold and earmuffs don’t do anything except block out sound and I can’t hear anyways, negating the point of my hearing aids.” You’ve tried earmuffs time and time again. And usually, you’d just wear a beanie or something, but you forgot yours.

So, Matt thinks for a moment, before tucking his cane under his arm, before lifting his hands to come up to your face. The heel of his hand comes up to rest against your cheeks while the length of his fingers gently cup around your ears. He’s not pressing down, making it harder to hear, but your ears are immediately warmer. Matt’s hands—and well, everything, are naturally very warm and the leather gloves he has on makes it even more so.

Your face flushes, as you lean into his touch. What a man you have found yourself. You stay like this for a little while, until your food is ready. Your face turns and you plant a gentle kiss to the palm of his hand.

As you leave the restaurant after grabbing your food, you want to say one more thing. Just quickly.

“Thanks for helping, by the way.. I’m sorry I constantly complain about my ears.” You tell him, and he just gets this goofy grin on his face.

“At least you’re not blind. That would suck.” He links his arm with yours. You just laugh, leaning against him.

“Shut up,” and at this request, he scoffs.

“You love listening to me talk, it’s one of your favorite things ever!” he defends.

You just grin because your boyfriend can tell when you’re lying. And you know anything other than telling him that what he said was true would be the biggest lie you ever told.

...

It’s not all sunshine and rainbows with Matt, though.

Okay, maybe that’s sort of dramatic. Neither of you are particularly violent nor angry, but one time you get really heated.

Your time working with Nelson, Murdock & Page is wonderful, and because it’s just the four of you, often, you wind up getting lunch together. Someone runs out, grabs food, and you all sit in the conference room, talk and eat.

But today, you barely made it to lunch.

“Where do you guys wanna eat today?” Foggy asks, leaning against your doorway. He knows Matt can hear him from wherever, but you need him to be in the room to be able to decode what he’s saying. Karen leans against the desk in the main part of the office.

“Pizza?” You shrug, and Matt calls from his office,

“Sounds good!”

“Great. What do you guys want?” He asks.

“I’m really in the mood for buffalo chicken pizza, I dunno why.” You shrug. Matt’s footsteps echo through the office, before he’s in your doorway as well.

“What the fuck did you just say?”

You gaze at him, perplexed.

“Uh… I want buffalo chicken pizza?”

“Honey, You cannot be serious.”

“What is your problem, Matthew?” You laugh, but he looks disgusted.

“You are a New York native! How can you enjoy something as blasphemous as wanting buffalo chicken pizza?” He asks, and Foggy just laughs.

“Dude, no way. You can’t be discriminatory towards pizza.” Then, Karen speaks up.

“No, you can’t. Not technically. But I most definitely am. Buffalo chicken pizza ruins the point of pizza!”

Then, you go to defend yourself.

“The point of Pizza is to enjoy it! And I enjoy buffalo chicken pizza!”

“Well, you’re enjoying pizza wrong!”

“You can’t enjoy pizza incorrectly!”

At this point, Foggy is just giggling, “I can’t breathe,” He wheezes.

Now, you stand and leave your desk, going into the main part of the office.

“Where are you going?” Matt asks.

“I don’t need to be berated about my pizza preferences in my own office by my own boyfriend!”

“I have a valid excuse; I can taste all the ingredients of buffalo chicken pizza and it’s disgusting!”

“It’s not my fault you’re a freak with crazy senses!”

Matt gasps, “Bee, you wound me!”

“Do not use that nickname with me, Matthew!” You tell him, “That’s a low blow!”

“Why, just because I think your pizza choices are awful doesn’t mean I don’t still love you, Sweetheart! Your pizza preference is just inexcusable, and I think you need to accept that—”

“You know what?”

“What?”

Your hands come up to your ears, quickly turning your hearing aids off and taking them off, putting it on a nearby desk.

Though you cannot hear, Foggy and Karen’s face tells you that they are dying of laughter, and Matt has this offended look on his face when he realizes he no longer hears the familiar buzzing of your hearing aids.

This is how you spend your day. You sit at your desk, hungry, as your boyfriend yaps by your doorway. You know he’s asking you to put your hearing aids in or telling you that your pizza request is dumb, you can just sort of make out what he’s saying by the movement of his lips.

But you do not budge, and by the time it’s time to go back to his apartment, you simply slip on your coat and wait for him to meet you by the door. He has given up trying to talk to you, for the most part. But the silent treatment is killing him. Even when you get to his apartment, he’s left speechless as you silently retreat into his bedroom, stealing some clothes and going to lay down.

Honestly, though? The worst part isn’t the silent treatment or ignoring him, but it’s the fact that he knows your ears ring even worse when you walk through the city without your hearing aids on. He knows you’re in pain. It’s killing him because you’re trying not to show it, but he can tell you’re clenching your jaw and burying your head beneath his pillow. You’re trying to rely on the softness of his sheets and the faint smell of him lingering between the sheets.

So, he devises a plan. And every minute he waits for the plan to be carried out is torture because he knows you’re too stubborn to forfeit your opinion on buffalo chicken pizza. When he is finally able to give you an apology you truly deserve, he grabs your hearing aids off the coffee table and crawls into bed behind you. You feel the bed dip but don’t say anything.

He plants a soft kiss to your hand, beginning to trail kisses up your arm and shoulder. He kisses your neck, and then jaw. You glance back over to him, seeing the hearing aids in his hand. You take them from him and put them on, before turning them on. He grins at the familiar humming they create at a frequency that will not bother you.

“Still mad at me, bee?” He asks, kissing your shoulder again. You shrug.

“Mad is a strong word, but yes.”

“Let me make it up to you?”

“Fine, but only because you’re cute.” He likes this answer. He takes your hand and pulls you off the bed, taking you to the kitchen. And you smell.. Pizza. There’s a box from your favorite place, and you step away from him to open the box. It’s a half plain pie and a half buffalo chicken pie. Because no matter how much he disagrees with you, he just wants you to talk to him and not be in so much pain for the sake of winning an argument.

You turn your head and place a soft kiss to his cheek. He tilts his head and places a soft kiss to your lips.

“Am I forgiven, bee?”

“I think so, Matty.” You hum.

He grins and kisses you again, thrilled to sense your more relaxed posture now.

...

Another challenge of your relationship comes from being lawyers. Mostly since you’re both ridiculously stubborn. You have a fun game you like to play out of it, though.

This one time you play, you’re laying with him on his couch, listening to music when you start yapping.

“I think I might style my hair a different way,” you tell him, but he just shrugs and plays with your hair.

“I think you look gorgeous either way.”

You furrow your brows for a second, and his face splits into a grin since he knows what’s coming.

“Objection,” you start, “You’re blind, you have no actual way of telling if I’m conventionally attractive.”

He considers this for a second.

“Overruled,” He determines, “Beauty is subjective, and in my opinion, you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever known.” Your face flushes.

“Objection,” You start again, and he groans, knowing you won’t let it go, “You don’t need to flirt with me, I already want you.”

“Overruled,” He counters again, quicker this time, “I like flirting with you, and it keeps the spark alive. Plus, I like making you blush.”

You raise an eyebrow, and he knows what’s coming next.

“Objection,” You hum, “How could you possibly know I’m blushing?”

He simply moves his hands from your hair and rests them against your cheeks, before deciding.

“Overruled.”

There’s another time that you’re at Josie’s, and you want to talk to Karen about a surprise you’re planning for his birthday, but he’s sitting right there, so you start signing. And he knows you’re signing by the way your hands smack, and the air moves through your fingers.

“Objection,” He groans, “I can’t understand what you’re talking about!”

“Mm, Overruled,” You determine, “There are some things I’m allowed to keep from you, but you have super senses and can tell when I’m lying and can hear me from a long distance away. Signing is the only way to have things be confidential.”

He raises an eyebrow.

“Okay, objection—You aren’t supposed to keep secrets from your partner.”

“Overruled.” You tell him. “One, that’s something people say about wedded spouses, ask me to marry you, get a marriage certificate and show me a nice ring then we’ll talk,” He blushes at that, “Two, you have an unhealthy idea of relationships from past relationships. You’re in therapy for a reason.”

Matt nods.

“Okay, okay.” He sighs, “That’s fair.” You grin at this.

“See? Was it so hard to let me win, Counselor?”

He raises an eyebrow.

“Yes, it was, Counselor.” He tells you, but you just giggle, because you love being a lawyer and you love your boyfriend.

But this last time is your favorite.

You spent the night drinking at Marci and Foggy’s, but there was this tension between you and Matt, and you can hardly wait to get home. So at some point, you make a half assed excuse, mumbling something about how your hearing aid batteries are low, but whatever it was that you told them as an excuse, you don’t really care.

Because now you’re on your bed, Matt pressed against you as he kisses down your neck. His teeth graze against your skin, and you gasp when he bites down, leaving a large mark on your neck.

Then, Matt, horny and a little tipsy, goes,

“Objection, I thought I told you to be quiet.” He continues to kiss your neck, jumping from side to side, leaving marks here and there.

“Overruled, I’m deaf, I can’t tell how loud I’m being,” You hum, your fingers lacing into his hair. He hums and kisses your collarbone before he speaks again.

“Objection,”

“Jesus fucking Christ, Matt—”

He shushes you softly before kissing you.

“Ssh… It’s listening time, sweetheart,” Okay, that was hot, “Objection,” He starts again, “You can be quiet for me, I know you can. I know you can follow orders, baby.” He then kisses your neck again.

“Overruled,” You start, tugging on his hair a bit. “You decided to play our game while knowing I’m at your mercy. It’s an abuse of power.”

“An abuse of—” he half scoffs, half chuckles. “You know what, Sweetheart?”

“What, Matty?”

“Objection. Be quiet or I’ll stop.”

Damn. An ultimatum. You knew that in situations like these, Matt’s willpower is stronger than yours.

“Sustained.”

“There we go, bee, was that so hard?”

...

The real best part of dating Matt Murdock, a blind lawyer with super senses while being deaf?

Well..

It starts on a warm sunny Sunday morning. You’re laying in bed, the sun peeking through its curtains. You’re laying on your stomach, face smooshed against pillows as he stretches out beside you. In another life, your dear boyfriend was a cat.

You don’t have your hearing aids in yet. It’s too early. Plus, you’re just enjoying the look of Matt basking in the warmth of the light. He’s gorgeous, your boy.

You lean forward and gently kiss the corner of his eyes, squeezed shut as he stretches. He stops when he feels your lips against his skin, smiling softly. He says good morning, but you can’t really hear him, so you just take his hand and press a kiss to his skin there too.

He returns the favor later, as you’re pouring your coffee. He presses a soft kiss to your ear, and you grin, resting your body against his He presses another kiss to your other ear. It’s something small, but it thrills you.

Matt is gentle with you in a way that you’re not used to. It’s not the sort of gentleness that comes with most people, where they’re afraid of breaking you because of your being deaf, but it’s a gentleness that comes despite it.

You enjoy bathing in his affection, especially because he is just so willing to give it to you and while it should be something you’re used to, you’re not. But you’re getting there. Matt makes sure of it.

The pair of you just seem to find the darkest cracks and crevices of the other, and you love those parts dearly.

You begin to kiss the corner of his eyes more often, and it quickly replaces his jaw as your favorite place to kiss. And your ears, despite how much pain and suffering they provide to you, Matt is a big fan of just kissing them.

So, when he leans forward and kisses your ears, you lean over to him and kiss the corners of his eyes. The way he squeezes his eyes shut at the affection is pretty adorable. It’s always awful when he must slip on those red glasses that hide those pretty eyes.

“Objection,” you groan.

He places a soft kiss to the top of your ear.

“Overruled.”

#matt murdock #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x y/n #matt murdock x you #daredevil #daredevil fic #matt murdock fic #daredevil fanfiction #matt murdock fluff #matt murdock x hoh!reader #deaf!reader #hoh!reader #matt murdock x gn!reader #gn!reader

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bananntoo · 1 year ago

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getting jealous

sanji x reader

sanji is constantly swooning over other women, leaving his girlfriend forgotten

dating sanji was amazing- constant compliments, never going hungry, having you’re own little maid do everything for you, but it came with a constant worry of other women. you weren’t insecure about yourself in any way, but the fact that sanji swooned over every girl he saw hurt a little. you knew he couldn’t help it and that he loved you more than any woman, but it still hurt.

it was the party at water7 to celebrate the straw hats return from ennies lobby. you had wanted to enjoy the party with your boyfriend but he told you he was busy with the kitchen and for you to enjoy your own time. that was until half a hour later you saw him practically drooling over a group of girls not leaving their sides. was he serious? he had turned you down- HIS GIRLFRIEND- to hang out with a group of women he didn’t even know? you were so done. not even having the urge to party anymore you left and decided to stroll around the empty town.

the walk was a lot. you tried thinking of anything and everything to get your mind off of sanji, but nothing worked. you felt stupid. did you really think he wouldn’t left your side the second he saw another girl?

sanji had noticed your absence from the party now. he walked over to nami asking if she had seen her. she told him you had left and went on a stroll through the town.

why would she leave? is she okay? it’s dangerous for such a pretty lady to be walking alone at night! she should’ve asked me to come with her. his angry thoughts soon turned into happy ones once he saw your figure in-front of him. your back was turned as you were still walking away from him, not yet noticing his presence.

“Y/N-SWANNN” you heard him rushing towards you.

“i missed you so much! i was wondering where you were-“ he had stopped when he heard your stuttered breathing. you thought you were doing fine. you thought you could hold it in, but you were wrong. the second you heard his voice you broke down. did he really not know what was wrong?

“y/n are you okay?” that hurt. suddenly instead of just stuttered breaths it all came rushing out. tears were flowing almost so hard you couldn’t breathe. he was still facing your back. you didn’t want him to see you like this. so defenseless and weak. your legs couldn’t support you anymore so you dropped to the ground, curled up in a ball, with your head in your knees, arms wrapped around your head.

sanji didn’t know what to do. should he support you? should he leave you alone? should he apologize? he didn’t even know what was wrong.

you couldn’t blame him. he was a gentleman. telling him to stop would be like changing the thing you loved most about him. you just had to get over it and dust yourself off. but why was it so hard?

sanji had come to your front now, trying to pry your hand away from your face in order to console you but you held your grip.

“please leave me alone sanji” you had said through broken breaths.

“you know i cannot” he replied. with his worried voice you felt even worse. instead of dealing with your emotions alone, you had now worried sanji. this was the one thing you didn’t want.

a/n : slight scrap. its been sitting in my drafts for a while and i don’t know how to continue it. pls lmk if there’s anything you want me to add

#sanji x y/n #vinsmoke sanji #sanji x reader #sanji #one piece x reader #one piece #op sanji #light angst

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rindousbbg · 8 months ago

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Summery: You guys broke up due to a stupid reason and he's getting you back no matter what.

Genre: Fluff

Warning: None

Requested: No

A/n: took so long, finished it long time ago but forgot to post 😭. Reblogs are appreciated.

Mikey wasn't certainly good at most of the things but love. He never understood the concept of the word called love. Surely he never dated, he was too occupied with gang shit that he never really thought of love and to give any attention towards it.

Until you came and swept him off his feet. You weren't more special than any girl, you were simple and kind like the rest of them. But what made his heart flutter when you respected his passion for his gang? Brought him his favourite snack-dorayaki. When you comfort him all the time whenever he gets upset because of his dead brother. You never left him or made him feel small.

He was very glad because of that but yet after getting into a relationship you both shortly broke up after 1 year. Why? You still questioned yourself.

Was it because you have gotten chubbier? Or was it because you have gotten skinnier and it made you look like a skeleton? Or was it because he was ashamed to call you his girlfriend in front of everyone or was it because he was simply tired of you, your nagging and the simple gesture of being worried for him? You still wonder about that.

But why does it hurt Manjiro so much to look at you with another boy instead of him?? Something isn't right when you are with someone else, you should be with him. He was shameless after practically breaking up with you for no reason and a proper explanation he still wanted you to look after him and only him. Call him possesive but isn't what he is?

"Are you dating him?"

A cold voice spoke out behind you making you immediately turn.

"What are you...doing here?"

You spoke slowly, too shocked to say anything. He was the least expected person to be here.

You were waiting for your name co-worker to come back from the store since you needed some food supplies.

"You didn't answer my question"

"You didn't either"

He blankly stared at you.

"You have bad taste"

"Huh"

You questioned him.

"What do you mean?"

"Your taste has gotten worse"

You widen your eyes at his statement, what does he mean by that? Was he thinking you and your co-worker are dating and that's why he is saying? Or something else.

Questions after questions keep flooding inside your head making your head spin.

"We aren't..dating"

"Really?"

You couldn't help but roll your eyes at his statement.

"What you are doing here anyway?"

"To buy dorayaki what else...don't think I'm stalking you or something"

His tone changed after your last statement, which makes you wonder if was it really because he was relived you weren't dating your co-worker or if was it because he has bipolar disorder.

"Okay, I guess"

You decided to walk away from him. But he keeps catching up with his bike. You stopped in your tracks.

"What do you want?"

"Aight, let's get back together"

You stared at him as if he was talking gibberish.

"Are you for real?"

"For real"

he smiled confidently.

"No, we broke up already"

"Well we did but it was your fault anyway"

He gasped dramatically and shook his head at you imitating a hurt expression.

"You ate my dorayaki".

He exclaimed once again.

"Geez Mikey it was just a dorayaki"

You rolled your eyes.

"See, that's a valid reason"

you stared at him for some seconds and started to walk away as fast as you could.

"Wait!"

"What now?"

He took a deep breath.

"Sorry."

"for?"

"I took this matter too far"

"You did"

He wondered everywhere except you, he was trying to find words to tell you but looks like he could not find any.

"Ken-chin told me that it was too childish and I was immature acting like a kid"

"He is right and you are a kid though"

His eyes darkened.

"I'm sorry. Please don't leave me. I couldn't fall asleep nor eat peacefully"

"So you are bringing me back just for your own benifit?"

He shakes his head.

"No. You are kind of my habit. Just like people can't spend a day without blinking their eyes I can't spend my day without you, I need you. Please forgive me and let's get back together"

"That was... lowkey cringe"

You murmured to yourself.

"I heard that"

"I missed you"

He smiled.

"Hop on my bike already"

You did as he said and drove off somewhere. It was already evening. He stopped, parking the bike somewhere.

"Mikey?"

He hummed.

"Will you leave me ever again? For somebody else?"

You asked him.

"Never."

"How can I believe you? You broke up with me because of a dorayaki."

He realized how big of a matter it was to you. He felt bad for making you feel this way.

"Come here!"

You did and closed the distance between you and him.

"Would you mind?"

He pointed at your lips. You understood what he meant and slowly nodded.

Soon he brought his lips closer to yours and placed his lips onto yours, it was a soft and gentle kiss. Mikey didn't have to say anything after it. The kiss said enough about how he misses you. The slight desperation was visible that he had missed you.

Shortly after, he pulled away.

"I don't know about promises or keeping them but I promise that I won't do that again"

You both stared into each other's eyes once again.

"You sure?"

He gave you a small smile and leaned once again to let his lips collide with yours to tell you the answer.

#tr x reader #tokyo revengers x reader #mikey x reader #mikey x you #tokyo revengers x you #mikey sano x reader #manjiro sano x reader #bonten x reader #bonten x you #bonten x y/n #toman x reader

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libraryofloveletters · 9 months ago

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Bound By Fate

Jenson Button x Fem!Teammate Reader

series summery: the strings of life connect two people; teammates, friends, perhaps lovers. Even when you think you’ve gotten rid of him, the strings of life pull you back in. some things are just meant to be.

author's note: this was prompted by god knows what but this is my new passion project. jenson girlies, this one is for you. shoutout to @mev33 for losing her mind over this with me <333

bound by fate taglist!

chapter one: united front

attached at the hip, jenson button and y/n l/n are the unstoppable duo. the same soul in two bodies. all but 4 points separating them. // “where you go, I go. What you see, I see. I know I’d never be me without the security of your loving arms, keeping me from harm. Put your hand in my hand and we’ll stand.” - Skyfall by Adele

chapter two: time cast a spell on you

spending nine months with someone is a long time, especially when you’re forced to be with them. feelings grow, both good and bad. - “Time cast a spell on you but you won’t forget me. I know I could have I loved you but you would not let me. I’ll follow you down ‘till the sound of my voice can haunt you. Oh give it just a chance. You’ll never get away from the sound of a woman that loves you.” - Silver Springs by Fleetwood Mac

chapter three: the blame is on you

two mclarens spin out, drivers at each other’s throat but only one’s to blame. what’s said on track doesn’t always stay there. - “It’s my own design, it’s my own remorse. Help me to decide, help me make the most of freedom and of pleasure, nothing ever lasts forever. Everybody wants to rule the world.” - Everybody Wants To Rule The World by Tear For Fear

chapter four: no grace

jenson can’t take it anymore; the back stabbing, the betrayal. he did what he thought was best and left. on what was supposed to be the happiest night of y/n’s life, she’s heartbroken and upset. — “I didn’t have it in myself to go with grace, so the battleships will sink beneath the waves. You had to kill me, but it kills you just the same. Cursing my name, wishing I stayed. You turned into your worst fears and you’re tossing out blame, drunk on this pain. Crossing out the good years and you’re cursing my name, wishing I stayed.” - My Tears Ricochet by Taylor Swift

chapter five: the final tango

y/n and jenson find themselves front and centre, smiling for the cameras in their sunday bests, yet their hearts are in different places. - “it hurts to be something, it’s worse to be nothing with you. I’ve done the math, there’s no solution. We’ll never last. Why can’t I let go of this?” - Promise by Laufey

chapter six: secrets of us

when all is said and done, it’s never really over, is it? jenson spills far too much in a tell-all interview that back fires on both he and y/n. - “And you don’t seem to understand, a shame you seemed an honest man. And the fears you hold so dear will turn to whisper in your ear. And you know what they say might hurt you and you know that it means so much, and you don’t even feel a thing.” - Duvet by Bôa

chapter seven: a chapter of me

four long years have passed, both y/n and jenson are in different places of life but they find themselves at Silverstone, together once again. jenson’s a commentator and y/n’s still a racer. seems the dust has settled. - “Just wanna let this story die, and i’ll be alright. We can’t be friends, but I’d like to just pretend. You cling to your papers and pens, wait until you like me again.” - We Can’t Be Friends by Ariana Grande

chapter eight: a glimpse into the past

people come and go, life moves on; that has always been your view. you can’t move on when your past comes back to haunt you. - “So I ask myself, do I let you go or do I keep you in the frame of my mind? Now I’m growing wise to your sugar coated lies, nothing’s sweet about my misery. Yeah, I finally found what went wrong, i finally found the wrong in you.” - On My Mind by Jorja Smith

chapter nine: twelve steps forward, one step back

the final race of your life, mixed emotions truly. your career was one out of a movie, you’re waiting for the final shoe to drop and when it does, it hits you hard. - “Isn’t it strange? I am still me, you are still you, in the same place. Isn’t it strange how people can change from strangers to friends, friends into lovers, and strangers again?” - Strange by Celeste

epilogue - chapter ten: the last bow

life post retirement is a funny thing, you thought you’d be having fun but you’re bored out of your mind. a solo trip results in seeing a ghost from your past. - “I'm sure we're taller in other dimension, you say we’re small and not worth a mention. You’re tired of movin’, your body’s achin’. We could vacay, there’s places to go. Clearly this isn’t all that there is, can’t take what’s been given. But we’re so okay here, we’re doing fine.” - White Ferrari by Frank Ocean

#bound by fate series #jenson button #jenson button x reader #jenson button x you #jenson button x y/n #jenson button f1 #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x female reader #f1 x y/n #f1 imagine #f1 series

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verstappenf1lecccc · 10 months ago

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This was never about you

Here is part one of this was never about you!! please let me know if you guys would want me to continue with this series!!

Sounds of a rough hand hitting a soft face echoed throughout the room. She stirred around to greet this sudden, yet rude wake-up call. Y/n was never one for confrontation. Often times, even with Charles, she never voiced out her anger, always being the perfect timid wife he was promised when her father gave her away. She felt scared, confused, and most importantly pissed off, because she knew that the pain was going to get worse, even though she was accustomed to pain. It had been over a year since she was wedded off to Charles. She didn’t know much about him, really. No one did. All she knew was that he was scary enough to get her abusive father to marry her off and that he was her protector now. Officer Campbell, that was the name of the twat who had decided that instead of hurting Charles by seizing his drugs or guns, he was going to take away his little wife and rough her up, just to add a cherry on top. Campbell had taken her away while she was shopping for groceries. Poor little thing, he thought, as he got his men to pull out the injection to sedate her. He had all the time in the world to look at the infamous Mrs. Leclerc. He liked what he saw and was hell-bent on making her look unrecognizable. Charles and y/n had just argued prior to her leaving for groceries. It was a silly argument, really. For the first time since they had gotten married, y/n raised her voice at Charles over rumors of his torrid affair. She could barely get two words out of her mouth before she shut herself up. Her father’s beatings came flooding back to her mind. She wouldn’t want Charles to become like her father, now would she? So she shut herself up. Charles was utterly confused. He didn’t understand where his pretty little wife got the idea of him cheating on her. He only ever had eyes for her, no one else. He had so much to say to her yet never had the time since Inspector Campbell was always up his ass. He knew that if he slipped up, his entire mafia could be affected, but most importantly, she would be affected. So all Charles had said to her was, “I am not a cheater.” She stormed off before he could finish his sentence.

Y/N knew what she was doing was stupid, but she didn’t care. She took a cab and went grocery shopping without any security. Little did she know that it would be her worst mistake. She was getting anxious as she saw Charles’s name flash up on her screen for the 12th time. She was just about to answer it, but before she could listen to anything he could say, she felt the cold metal syringe pierce her skin. All Charles could hear was his wife’s loud shrill and cry for help before her phone was stepped on. He muttered out a faint “no” before screaming for Pierre to find out where she was.

#charles leclerc x wife reader #mafia!f1 #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #mafia!charles leclerc #f1 scenario #dad!charles leclerc

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elizabethwritesmen · 11 months ago

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The Devil Wears Lace

chapter 1 : July 2, 2022

pairing: simon “ghost” riley x reader

summary: you obviously weren’t expecting someone to kidnap you after your shift at the bar that night. even moreso, you weren’t expecting them to want to kill you. but the thing you weren’t expecting the most was the masked man who saved you.

warnings: 18+ for eventual smut, kidnapping, violence, talk of unaliving the reader, dark themes throughout this whole series, leg injury, talk of being tied up and drugged, i think that’s everything but let me know if i missed something!

a/n: this chapter is basically the prologue, so it’s super short but gives necessary background info (:

series masterlist

July 2, 2022

I don’t remember much. In fact, I don’t remember anything clearly after being taken.

What had happened was, I was walking to my car after my shift at the bar ended. I happened to be parked on the side, in the alley. There, three men were waiting for me. Waiting to take me.

I put up a fight, really and truly, I did. I think I even gave them a run for their money considering they were all quite large compared to me. I punched, and scratched, and bit what I could. But they overpowered me, and one of them hit me on the head with something. Who knows what? Doesn’t matter.

Since then, I’d been fading in and out of consciousness. The first time was on the ride there. I’d been shoved in the back of a van with several boxes, wedged in between them like some kind of cargo. The driver hit a turn way too sharp and slung one of them onto its side, the contents emptying onto me. One of the things in there was a small safe with sharp edges. It slammed into my ankle, breaking the skin and cutting deep. I instantly woke up, screaming, red hot pain searing through my entire leg, and they pulled over somewhere. One of them crawled into the back with me, and I tried to resist him but I was tied up with my arms behind my back. I even kicked at him, but there was only so much I could do with one good foot.

“Shut the fuck up!” he growled, taking a syringe out of his pocket and forcefully twisting me so he could shove it into my arm.

The next time, I was in a warehouse. Everything was dark and blurry, shapes fading together. I felt… wrong. Woozy, like I’d been drinking. Then I momentarily remembered the syringe and realized that thought wasn’t too far off. There was probably something in my system to keep me docile. That only lasted for a second before I was out again. Then again I just barely faded into a conversation two men I’d not yet seen were having in front of me.

“We’ve got to wait until the 4th or it won’t work,” one raised his voice at the other, tensions high.

“I say we kill the bitch now. She’ll be worth just as much dead as she will be alive.”

“You don’t know that!”

Everything went black again. I couldn’t even manage to panic about the fact that I was probably going to die. What day did I get snatched? I thought it was the 30th of June. How long had I been there?

I don’t remember waking up again at all, until a loud sound rocked the building. My eyes cracked open, vision still shaky, to see men rushing in. A fight ensued between them and my many captors. I watched as intently as I could manage as they took each one of them down, police arresting them all.

A man rushed my way. I couldn’t see him clearly until he was right in front of me, tall and large and… masked.

Strange.

I tried to scoot away from him, scared he was going to hurt me in my drugged up state, and he spoke softly as not to frighten me further.

“It’s okay, I’m here to take you somewhere safe.” I stayed wary, eyes focusing in on him. I had to focus in on him. If I didn’t, he just looked like a blob. “They’ve got you fucked up good,” he commented, then asked, “Will you let me cut off these ropes?”

I nodded and he leaned down, slicing through the binds on my ankles, careful of the wound that was looking worse for wear from being ignored. “Can you stand?” He asked, and when I didn’t respond, he tutted. “Let’s try.” He picked me up from under my arms, placing me on my feet.

Fuck if that wasn’t the worst pain I’d ever felt. I cried out as pressure was placed, falling into him in the least graceful way possible. His arms secured themselves around me, placing me gently back on the ground.

“That’s okay, you don’t have to stand,” he hummed, kneeling behind me to cut the ropes off of my hands. I relaxed my entire body, relieved to have mobility back. “Put this on,” he commanded, slipping his jacket off and handing it to me. I furrowed my brows, looking down to see my clothes were in tatters, ripped to shreds just about. The low cut T shirt with my work’s logo on it was completely open and the matching skirt was half off. My bra and panties were on full display, light hitting the lace perfectly. I gasped, grabbing the warm fabric from him and trying to put it on. I was too weak, though, so he had to do it for me. He zipped it up, and once he was satisfied with my modesty, he hauled me into his arms, carrying me out of the building. I started to slip out of consciousness again, my mind still foggy from whatever was in my veins. The last thing I remembered seeing was him, walking away.

#simon riley smut #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #cod smut #ghost smut #ghost x reader smut #simon riley x reader smut #simon riley #ghost x reader series

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bones4thecats · 1 year ago

Note

I love your work so much and saw you have open request can I please request a female douma(from demon slayer ) in record of ragnarok.

( buddha. loki. Aphrodite. Qin shi )

A human turned God because of her cult because of hers beauty and after her becoming a demon somehow still was seen a godly plus she not being able to feel emotions makes her act friendly towards other gods calling them their best friend and doesn't care some hate her

You can do whatever you want with this request the thing I wrote was an idea I came up with.

A/N: Omg, one of my fav demon slayer characters! He may be an asshole, but he’s a funny asshole. I used the Uppermoons here as well, so WARNING, there may be mentions of; gore and murder. Also, this was one of my hardest pieces yet, so it may be kinda meh compared to others. Anyways, enjoy!! P.S: I couldn't come up with anything for Qin, so I didn't write for him, sorry!

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・

🍭 He and you had a love-hate-okayish? relationship

🍭 While he did enjoy watching you tease and anger the other Gods without a care in the world, he didn’t enjoy how you just didn’t seem to show anything for anyone

🍭 You would take humans and break their bones and just letting them bleed on the ground for a while before letting them go free, without any explanation of the brutality

🍭 The Twelve Kizuki Pantheon was one you were not created into, but molded into

🍭 He smirked as you poked and prodded at your fellow pantheon member, Akaza, prompting the man to punch the top of your head off, making everyone else in attendance to the Gods’ Council meeting scream

“ She’ll be fine. Y/N stop fucking around. “

🍭 He glared at Muzan, your head, for being so brutal with his words, couldn’t he see you were basically dead?!

“ Aw~, Akaza-dono, why did you do that? It’s rude to treat your superiors so awfully~ “

🍭 Okay- wtf?!

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・

🐍 Loki and you were basically best friends, despite your constant teases to Akaza

🐍 You smiled as he threw a pie filled with spiders in front of Aphrodite, making her scream and run away, her guards chasing after her

🐍 The Twelve Kizuki did not like him being around you, as it made you even worse of a person to deal with

🐍 Despite being the technical third strongest, behind Muzan and Kokushibo, God in your pantheon, you were by far the second most childish behind the girl whom you named Daki, that you adopted

🐍 Loki strolled in and would go with you in tormenting Akaza and today was no different, but what made him stop in his tracks was seeing you holding Gyokko, Upper Five’s head, staring at it with such dead eyes

🐍 Akaza knocked half your head off, which made him chuckle before standing upside down above you as you regenerated

“ You see how mean he is to me, Loki-dono? “

🐍 You give your ‘families’ such bad headaches to the point where the only person who can really handle you both is Kokushibo because he’s fairly quiet and ignores you both easily

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・

💐 She adored your eyes so damn much!

💐 Aphrodite met you through Daki, as she wanted her new mentor to meet her technical adoptive mother

💐 And when she first saw you? Woo!

💐 You were teasing Akaza severely, causing him to get angry and punch the bottom half of your face off

“ Don’t touch me, you bastard. “

💐 She ran up to you and held your half head up, but it somehow appeared quickly, like it just disappeared and reappeared

💐 After you guys actually met, she had to admit, watching you tease your fellow Gods and everything just made her smile, especially when they tried killing you, which resulted in you hurting them without a care back

💐 She isn’t fond of you not really feelings things, it reminds her to much of Poseidon and that makes her feel gross

💐 Aphrodite also loves messing with your hair, just feeling the long locks that seemingly look knotted but are actually very well-kept just makes her smile

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vividiana · 1 month ago

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come along with me (and put your mind at ease)

pairing: Astarion x f!Dark Urge

rating: M for canon-typical Durge thoughts, mild gore, and sexually suggestive language

word count: 11k

summary: flirting seems hard enough even without a voice in your head urging you to eviscerate anyone who gets too close. so when Astarion approaches Eve with a proposition, she's... a bit frazzled, to say the least. but despite what she promises herself, she can’t seem to stay away from him.

a/n: hi! I usually only post on ao3, but a couple of you seemed to really enjoy the wip snippets I've been sharing of this piece, so I decided to post it on tumblr as well. hope you enjoy!

the title is from "a little less conversation" by elvis presley

read on ao3

________________

Alright, perhaps they didn’t have to kill Gandrel. How much of a threat was a monster hunter who couldn’t even recognize his own prey? He was clearly clueless, so they could have just left him to stumble around in that desolate bog, and they might have never crossed paths again.

But Eve recalls vividly the sinking feeling that gripped at her heart the moment the man revealed his intentions, how she feared for Astarion’s safety, how enraged she was by the mere thought that someone was setting out to hurt him. Surely, she would have reacted the same way if this concerned any of her other companions… She had simply started to grow protective over her group. That’s all there was to it.

And who knows—if Astarion’s suspicions were correct and if the man really was sent out by his former master, then surely it was better to err on the side of caution (and violence.) Perhaps Gandrel recognized Astarion when he saw him, but realized he had lost the element of surprise and was outnumbered. Perhaps instead of attacking right there and then, he decided to track them later and capture Astarion under the veil of night.

Of course none of these considerations occurred to her at the moment, but they did help Eve justify her decision later. Even with all the mental acrobatics involved, that was still easier than admitting to herself that perhaps she was starting to care about Astarion more than she would like to.

It’s been two days since that encounter and two things have been bothering her ever since. First, Astarion had grown strangely quiet, which was quite alarming. He of course still delighted the group with a snarky quip and a healthy dose of complaining every now and then, but most of the time, he seemed absent and lost in thought. He also seemed to be staring at her a lot, though perhaps that was just Eve seeing what she wanted to see.

The second thing, far more unnerving, is that the murderous voice in her mind has been particularly active, very pleased with the Gur blood she spilled. Her head has been pounding, far worse than usual, and overall she’s been… well, a mess.

And it is while Eve is in that disheveled state that Astarion decides to approach her and start perhaps their most bizarre conversation as of yet.

Eve is crouched by a hyena’s corpse, working to cut off both of its ears—which, as Gale reminded her earlier today, were quite valuable alchemical ingredients. As she slices through the animal’s flesh with her hunting knife, the voice in her head won’t shut up about how beautiful the whole bloody image is.

“There you are.”

Astarion’s voice comes from right behind her, and Eve jumps, the clean cut she was working on now jagged.

Child’s work. The voice reprimands her. You can do better than that.

Astarion crouches beside her, strangely close, then puts his hand on hers, the one gripping at the knife. The sensation sends a shiver down her spine and Eve realizes that this is the first time he’s ever touched her outside of drinking her blood or being caught in the whirlwind of battle (and that one time he ambushed her, of course.) She stares at his hand on hers, dazed by the novelty of it.

“May I?”

Eve nods, letting go of the knife and watches him take over and cut off the remaining parts with one skilled flick of his wrist.

“There you go.” He hands her the ear and she stashes it away into her alchemical pouch.

They both rise to their feet and look around this stretch of the Risen Road, scattered with corpses and wrecked carriages with lost merchandise. Wyll and Karlach are still nowhere to be found—the two decided to scope out the path to the northwest as Eve and Astarion stayed behind to loot whatever they deemed useful.

But Astarion doesn’t seem to be in a rush to return to his task, instead looking at her with a strange intensity, as if pondering something.

“You’ve been quiet,” Eve notes as she picks some pieces of gnoll entrails off her clothing. “It’s unlike you.”

“I’ve been thinking.”

“About?” She stops and looks up at him, realizing how close he is standing.

His lips curl up into that annoyingly delightful smirk when he says:

“About you. About the time we’ve spent together, the moments we shared… And I don’t just mean that lovely neck of yours.”

The sudden shift in tone takes her aback at first, but Eve can’t deny that she isn’t captivated by the way his voice lowers, eyes narrowing dangerously as they glide down her body before meeting her gaze again.

“I’m growing to like the whole package, honestly,” he continues. “And you clearly like me too, so…”

“So…?” Heat kindles just below her skin, and Eve curses herself for blushing so easily.

“So, I think it might be time to turn some fantasies into reality—we’ve been waiting long enough.”

As if activated by a keyword, the voice in her mind returns, dripping with excitement and bloodlust as it echoes in her mind:

Yes. Don’t keep your beautiful fantasies to yourself. The world needs to see what you’re capable of.

“Oh. Um. What– what do you mean?” Eve asks, partly to stall so she can collect her thoughts, partly because all of this seems too absurd to actually be happening.

“Oh, don’t be coy,” Astarion drawls and leans in to whisper directly into her ear: “Your body has already given you away.”

He knows. He knows about the twisted, bloodied visions birthed by your brilliant mind.

“Umm.” Eve swallows hard, warmth blossoming in her chest at his proximity, at the way his voice vibrates on her skin. “Has it?”

“Oh yes,” Astarion chuckles as he leans away, now reaching out to trace a finger down the column of her throat. “I could feel it when I was getting lost in your neck. Your little… shakes of excitement. You enjoyed it, didn’t you?”

How excitingly he would shake beneath you once you wrap your hands around that pretty pallid neck. How sweetly he would scream.

Eve chuckles nervously, taking half a step away, not sure what to do with her eyes.

“Oh, I think that’s just… one of the symptoms of blood loss, you know?”

“Mhm…” Astarion steps closer, his gaze unwavering. “So you’re telling me that all those nights I’ve held your squirming body, pressed my lips to your flushed skin… Not once did you wish for something… more? Because I certainly did.”

Yes. Yes. Something more. Something filthier. Something more vile.

Eve just stares at him, trapped between his words and the incessant, pestering thoughts.

Astarion seems to lose his patience, dropping his seductive cadence for a moment when he says:

“I do mean sex, to be clear. Are you familiar with the concept? Or is that another thing you’ve forgotten about?”

At that, the voice in her head finally falls silent and Eve is left with the intensity of Astarion’s stare and the warmth rising up to her cheeks.

“Sex,” she repeats blankly. “With me?”

The moment the question leaves her mouth, she mentally rolls her eyes at herself. Fuck, why am I like this?

Astarion blinks, his mouth slightly agape.

“No,” he says, visibly exasperated. “I’m just practicing my seductive spiel on you before asking out our resident gith.”

Eve finds herself smiling involuntarily now that her mind has quieted down, and Astarion’s snarky self has returned.

“I applaud your courage, then. Let me know how that works out for you.”

“Thank you,” he says with a chuckle. “Honestly, I can’t say that the thought has never crossed my mind. I think I would either end up murdered or have the best sex of my life, there’s really no in-between with that woman– Nevermind.”

Astarion drops the subject with a shake of his head. He presses his fingers together and closes his eyes for a second, as if praying for patience. Finally, he opens his eyes and continues, gesturing animatedly between them:

“Let me put this as plainly as I can. I like you. I have reasons to believe you like me. Come tomorrow, we might be dead or sprouting tentacles. Might as well… indulge a little, while we can.”

Eve stares at him for a second, not fully believing that this is happening.

“And you chose to tell me all of this over a dead hyena while we’re both covered in its blood?”

Astarion looks down at the corpse by their feet and clicks his tongue disapprovingly.

“Well, yes, perhaps the scenery is… subpar. But I think you underestimate how enticing you look when you kick and punch your way through a horde of gnolls twice your size. Plus, red is your color,” he adds with a smirk.

“You’re ridiculous,” she laughs.

“Perhaps I am. But I also have impeccable taste, so don’t question it.”

To be honest, Eve gets it. She can’t deny the fact that witnessing him in battle also does something to her—how he blends into the shadows and takes down enemy after enemy with arrows that seemingly come from nowhere. How he flips his dagger before striking, in a way that clearly offers no practical benefit but rather, an opportunity to show off his dexterity. Her appreciation for his stealth and finesse is entirely benign of course, just like one’s appreciation for fine art or craftsmanship, and it is definitely not distracting, and it certainly does not leave her wondering what else he can do with those–

“Now,” Astarion continues, mercifully snapping Eve out of her thoughts that have only served to deepen the pink shade of her cheeks, “if you have any doubts about my prowess, I assure you, you needn’t worry. I will make it worth your time. Satisfaction guaranteed, as they say.”

Eve scoffs, attempting to play it cool, a task which is somewhat complicated by her now obvious blushing.

“You seem very confident in your abilities. I can’t say I’m not curious.”

“Oh, the confidence is warranted, trust me. You’ve… trusted me before, haven’t you? Have I given you a reason to regret it?"

Eve smiles weakly as she thinks back to the night he first asked to feed on her.

Could you trust me… a little further?

Her mind remains blissfully silent and she can actually, properly think about this. She knows Astarion is right—they could be dead tomorrow. And she can’t lie to herself that she hasn’t felt strangely drawn to him, wondering what it might feel like to–

The words spill from her lips before she can think of a reason to say no.

“I trust you. Come find me tonight.”

“Excellent,” he drawls, the edge of his lips curled up.

“And just so you know, you have set the expectations unreasonably high,” she laughs.

“Good. I don’t think your standards will ever be the same again. I’m afraid you will find any future lover an utter disappointment.”

“We’ll see about that.”

“OI!” Karlach’s voice echoes off the rocky ravine and they both turn to see her and Wyll waving at them from a distance. “Stop flirting and get over here! We have a shit show on our hands.”

“Ugh. Let’s hope it’s not another poor wretch that needs saving,” Astarion groans as they collect their belongings and start to head over.

But his hopes are shattered the moment they catch up to the rest of the group and notice a building in the distance, a thick column of smoke rising from its red tile roof.

“Come on, let’s get cracking!” Karlach orders as she starts heading in the direction of whatever misfortune has befallen the area.

“And this is our problem how, exactly?” Astarion scoffs, dragging behind.

“Astarion, if you are so allergic to altruism, perhaps you would rather go back to camp and help Gale with dinner?” Wyll asks sweetly.

Astarion just rolls his eyes in lieu of a response.

“Fire means dead bodies,” Eve says, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Dead bodies mean loot. Does that help?”

At the mention of loot, Astarion’s ears perk up and he dons his signature smirk.

“Now, there’s an idea. I do love the way your mind works.”

“That makes one of us,” Eve mutters under her breath as she turns to follow Karlach.

The next hour passes in a blur of smoke and revelations. The woman they rescue from the burning inn seems to be someone important and she knows Wyll and his father, who was apparently captured by the drow and goblins who wreaked havoc in this place.

Ulder Ravengard. The name should mean something to Eve, as it does to the others. But instead, her mind is blank and she is once again reminded of how little she remembers of this world.

What matters is you know which arteries to slice. Nobility or not, they all bleed the same.

As Karlach and Astarion flood Wyll with questions about his upbringing, Eve detaches herself from the group and crouches beside one of the dead drow aggressors. She retrieves the skull-adorned amulet from her pack in hopes that she might get some information out of the corpse about the Duke’s whereabouts. Ready to cast the spell, she assesses the drow’s face, frozen in a final expression of horror, his long white hair stained with crimson–

Before she can utter the incantation, she is hit with a vision of Astarion’s face instead of the drow’s, his silvery locks covered in blood. Blood that she spilled. His eyes are two open wounds, his chest and stomach massacred in a repulsive recreation of what she did to Alfira.

Eve doesn’t register her mouth stretching into a wide grin as a wretched thought sprouts from the wasteland of her mind:

You can make it happen. He would be the prettiest corpse you’ve ever had.

She straightens up suddenly, the gory vision slipping away, leaving behind naught but the drow’s cold body. Her chest tightens as the words echo in her mind, petrifying, nauseating. What in the Hells does that me–

Eve shakes her head. Given the few glimpses she’s caught of her past, she figures that some questions are better left unanswered.

But the voice is incessant as it whispers:

Trust your instincts. It’s time to stop giving him your precious blood and spill his instead.

Shards of ice splinter in her stomach, her vision blurry as she turns the words in her mind over and over and—

Eve jumps when she feels a hand on her shoulder.

“Apologies,” Wyll says, a hint of concern in his eyes when she turns to face him. “I didn’t mean to scare you. We should start heading back now if we want to make it to camp before dusk falls... Are you alright?”

“Yes,” she replies a touch too hastily to sound genuine. She grabs her pack off the ground and swings it over one arm, nodding decidedly. “Let’s go.”

Eve turns and starts heading for the gate, every lively step helping to ease the tightness in her chest, if only slightly.

She doesn’t get far before Astarion catches up to her.

“My, my, why the rush?” he drawls, walking beside her. “You seem awfully eager to return to camp. Do you have any plans for the evening you’d hate to miss?”

Gods damn it, not now.

“I’m not feeling well,” she blurts out, picking up the pace.

Astarion makes a curious noise but doesn’t press the matter.

After a few minutes of walking in silence, Karlach gets bored and starts questioning Astarion about the logistics of the “invitation only” rule for vampires entering private property, presenting him with increasingly specific hypotheticals.

“Say if I’m renting—would you need an invitation from me or my landlord?”

Much to Eve’s relief, this line of questioning keeps Astarion occupied and away from her. Not to mention that it offers a much needed distraction from the mess of her mind.

“If you wanted to go into a stable, would you need to talk to the horse or the horse’s owner? It’s the horse’s house after all, isn’t it?”

When they finally make it to camp, they convene for dinner as Wyll catches the rest of the group up on all of today’s revelations. As they’re finishing up, Eve makes some poorly-veiled excuse and heads to her tent much earlier than usual.

Once inside, she buries her face in her hands and closes her eyes for just a moment–

The second she does that, the bloody visions flash before her, ever so vivid, and she groans in frustration as she opens her eyes.

She fetches the first book she can find and tries to occupy herself with it, but the words on the page melt into an incomprehensible mass of ink. It might as well be written in Celestial, for all she knows.

Eventually she tosses the tome aside and stares at the ceiling, failing to calm her racing heart.

She listens as the conversations outside slowly die down.

In the sole company of darkness and her fractured mind, Eve decides she can’t trust herself enough to go through with it. Being alone with Astarion away from everyone… It’s simply too risky.

If he comes to her first, she might not have the volition to decline him. She needs to tell him now, lest she gets any second thoughts with potentially lethal consequences.

It can’t happen.

Not for her.

With a heavy heart, she gets up and tries to remind herself that this is the right thing to do, all while wishing that she didn’t have to worry about what is right, but rather just what feels right.

As soon as she exits the tent, she bumps right into Astarion and loses her balance.

His hands immediately grasp at her waist to steady her, and she prays he did not notice how her heart skipped a beat at the contact. Though who is she kidding? He has supernatural senses and her chest is pressed up right against his. Gods, he really is so close, close enough for the sunny hints of bergamot to hit her nostrils, close enough to see the laugh lines around his lips and eyes despite the dim light–

“Not wasting any time, are we?” Astarion asks, his mouth curling up.

Focus.

Against every nerve in her body, Eve takes a step back, her skin already mourning the loss of his touch. She clears her throat, suddenly unsure of what to do with her hands.

“Hi,” she blurts out.

“Hello, darling,” Astarion says, clearly amused by her nervousness.

“How are you doing?”

“Is this your idea of foreplay?” he chuckles. “Trust me, there are more exciting ways to spend our time than exchanging pleasantries. On that note: I’ve found a lovely little spot out in the woods—perfect for two people who would like to… indulge in one another.”

There it is again: that sultry tone that makes her feel like he is undressing her with his voice alone. She wants nothing more than to take his hand and follow him, but instead she shifts uneasily, remembering her decision.

“Right, umm… about that. I… I don’t think we should do that, actually.”

Astarion suddenly drops all pretense, sounding genuinely dumbfounded when he says:

“Excuse me?!” He shakes his head and manages to compose himself slightly. “Well, this is a first. Are you feeling okay?” He presses his cool palm against her forehead as if checking for a fever. “Is this early ceremorphosis or have you finally lost your mind?”

“I’m fine,” she says, swatting his hand away. “I just don’t think it’s a good idea, given…”

But the words catch in her throat when she realizes she isn’t ready to explain it all to him yet. Astarion looks at her inquisitively, and Eve sighs, before finally deciding:

“Look, it’s not because of anything you did. I meant what I said earlier today, I just– Can you please not take it personally?”

Astarion seems to have regained his footing because he leans in and says in that familiar, low tone:

“Listen, you don’t have to explain yourself. It’s your loss after all. Just so you know, you will come crawling back and I will greatly enjoy watching you when you do.”

Eve lets out a frustrated groan and says:

“Fine. Just. Are we…” She clears her throat and continues in a softer voice: “Are we okay?”

Astarion’s eyes widen and he gestures vaguely around them.

“Darling, we sleep on the ground and have mindflayer parasites in our heads. ‘Okay’ is probably the last word I would use to describe our circumstances.”

“Yes, thank you for the recap. I meant: are things okay between the two of us?”

Astarion scoffs and Eve tenses at the sound, bemoaning the turn the evening has taken.

“Why? Are you worried that I will resent you for not wanting to sleep with me? Is that the kind of person you take me to be?”

“No, I just–” She stutters, wishing she could just tell him the truth, but the words don’t come. “I don’t know.”

“Let me know once you do.”

And then it looks like he might say more, but instead, Astarion shakes his head and bids her goodnight before heading for his tent.

“Wait,” Eve blurts out and it makes him stop in his tracks, turning half-way to look at her. “You can still drink my blood if you would like. This doesn’t change anything.”

Astarion seems to consider this for a moment, his expression indecipherable in the dim firelight. His tone is detached when he finally responds:

“That’s sweet. But I’m not really hungry.”

“We both know that’s not true,” she insists.

Astarion chuckles dryly before continuing the walk towards his tent.

“That we do. Goodnight, dear.”

Eve slumps as she stares at the fabric of the tent falling shut behind him, before the familiar, wicked voice snaps her out of it:

Missed opportunity. But there will be other ones.

The visions of Astarion’s mangled body come back to haunt her and Eve knows she won’t be able to fall asleep any time soon, so she heads to retrieve some logs to keep the campfire going.

The voice eventually quiets down, but as Eve keeps watch, she tries and fails to push away thoughts of a much different nature—of the arms that would have held her, of how soft his hair would have felt under her touch.

But her broken mind seems to have a different definition of carnal pleasures, and Eve resigns herself to a solitary night of wondering what could have been, had there not been something deeply, fundamentally wrong with her.

Over the next couple of days, Eve’s mind had blissfully quieted down and she began to wonder, rather selfishly, whether what she denied herself might actually be possible. It was foolish, she knew, but be that as it may, there was not much she could do about the pull she was feeling towards Astarion, about the way her heartbeat quickened in his presence.

As she predicted, Astarion was unable to not take it personally and he suddenly seemed very cautious, as if he didn’t really know how to act around her. It’s like he couldn’t quite comprehend how she could be both attracted to him and choosing not to sleep with him, the elements of the puzzle not adding up to a cohesive whole.

Eve tried her best to act normal, or as normal as someone of her proclivities could reasonably be. She strove to show him that she still valued his company, that she meant it when she said her decision was not about anything he had done.

They were just two people who were both acutely aware of their mutual attraction and determined not to do anything about it. That seemed like the responsible thing to do. And definitely sustainable in the long run. Right?

And so they engaged in this awkward dance around each other, neither of them willing to bring up the obviously touchy subject. At some point, Eve had begun to lose hope that things would ever be the way they had been before.

Until one night when Astarion came to her with another proposition, albeit much more innocuous.

The camp is quiet save the distant chirp of crickets and the crackling of the fire. Everyone has retired to their tents, readying themselves for another day of chaos—everyone except for Eve, who, for the last two hours, has been fighting an unfair battle against her own hair, and she is done. She spent the better part of that time picking out pieces of goblin brain from it, and now, when it is washed and finally dry, she can still smell that heavy, metallic scent of blood. She snaps a twig off a nearby bush and is trying to get it to hold her hair up in a bun, when she hears a familiar voice.

“So this is what you do when you volunteer to keep watch? I feel safer already.”

“What?” She turns towards Astarion, hands in her hair, trying desperately to pin it in place. “Oh, it’s you.”

“Try to contain your excitement.”

“Sorry, I’m just–” she stops, pretty sure she finally got it right, but then her hair falls over her shoulders again. “Gods damn it!” She yanks the twig out and tosses it into the underbrush.

“This is quite painful to watch,” he says, crossing his arms over his chest. “Would you please let me help you?”

“What exactly do you mean by helping me?”

“Well, what exactly are you trying to achieve?”

“I just want my damn hair to not stick to my face all the time and not smell like goblin insides,” she huffs.

“Get up.”

“What?”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Would you please do me the honor of getting up?” he rephrases, his tone theatrically proper. He walks up and reaches his hand out to her, bowing.

Eve rolls her eyes, attempting to draw attention away from the flush in her cheeks as his cold hand closes around hers. Astarion helps her up and gestures towards the campfire.

“After you.”

She walks over, unsure of what to think, wondering if this is one of his little games, and trying to decide whether she would mind that. Astarion heads into his tent to grab a small ornamental rug, then places it in front of one of the logs by the campfire.

“It’s not exactly luxurious, but I suppose this is the best we can do, given the circumstances.”

He sits on the log, looking at her expectantly.

“Well?”

Eve settles on the rug hesitantly, her back towards him. She suddenly becomes very aware of his legs on either side of her body and she finds this position oddly vulnerable, dreading the possibility of any of their companions getting out of their tents and seeing the two of them like this.

“I don’t see any goblin brains left. You did quite well on that front.”

“Why, thank you.”

Astarion gives her hair a hesitant stroke, then halts.

“Is this alright?” he asks and it catches her off-guard.

“Yes?”

“I would rather make sure,” he says, his tone surprisingly earnest.

Why is this man, sometimes outright insufferable in his flirtatiousness, who manages to turn nearly everything into an innuendo, suddenly so careful about touching her? Eve considers asking him, but then bites her tongue and chalks it up to the recent shift in the energy between them.

Astarion clears his throat, sounding almost embarrassed, and continues to comb through her hair with his fingers, his movements gentle, almost caring. Eve fails to remember the last time anyone touched her like this.

“Hm.”

“What?”

“So much wasted potential,” he sighs.

“Excuse me?” she asks, turning to face him.

“See, the color is fabulous and your hair has a nice thickness to it, but you choose to leave it at the mercy of the elements and then you’re surprised when it collects all sorts of grime. And it always seems to get in your face when you fight. It’s neither practical nor beautiful, but it could easily be both if you just showed it enough care.”

Eve can’t tell if she’s supposed to feel offended or flattered. She waits for the snide punchline, but it does not come. She shifts uneasily in her seat, trying not to think too much about Astarion staring at her hair mid-combat.

“Alright, so what do you suggest?”

“Well, I’ve always been partial to a braid or two. But let’s not get ahead of ourselves. You said it smelled of goblin brain?”

“I did.”

She hears Astarion shift in his seat and inhale deeply.

“Did you just sniff me?” she asks, her cheeks burning hot.

“Yes.”

“Um, okay. And?”

“It’s not that bad.”

She can’t help but laugh.

“Thanks.”

“Don’t get me wrong, it’s not great, but I have something that might help. Hold on.”

He gets up and heads into his tent. Eve’s gaze follows him there, eyes gliding over his form, and she smiles softly when she sees the points of his ears peeking out from the carefully orchestrated disarray of silver curls. Once he emerges from the tent, he meets her eyes and smirks. Her stomach flutters and she turns away, suddenly very focused on the fire.

Astarion returns to his seat behind her and places something on the ground. Eve turns to see a small, unmarked bottle and an ivory comb with intricate floral carvings on the handle. She picks up the comb, cool to the touch, and holds it up to the fire to admire the design.

“Where did you get this?”

“I snatched it from Kagha’s room.”

Eve turns towards him, wide-eyed.

“You did what? When?”

“Well, we’ve only been there once, haven’t we? So it must have been more or less when she was threatening that tiefling girl with a viper… Oh, don’t look at me like that! I knew you were going to handle it, I didn’t feel the need to get involved. So, I was just looking around and, while everyone was distracted with a child in mortal peril, I helped myself to this pretty little thing.”

“You’re unbelievable,” she says, shaking her head and turning back towards the fire.

“Yes, thank you.”

“Like a magpie, you just see a shiny thing and you can’t help yourself.”

“Again, thank you. I like to surround myself with beauty. It makes sleeping on the ground just a tad more bearable.”

“And what’s in the bottle?”

“A little concoction I crafted to hide my… condition. A mixture of bergamot, rosemary, and a hint of aged brandy. The perfect olfactory disguise for a corpse. It can certainly help with the smell of goblin viscera, plus rosemary oil can do wonders to your hair. But enough talking.” He reaches for the comb. “Shall we?”

"Go ahead.”

He catches her hair mid-length and starts working on the ends with the comb. Despite the many knots she knows must be there, it seems that he tries his best not to snag at her hair, to cause her the least discomfort possible. Once he is done with the ends, he runs the comb through the whole length, massaging her scalp. They don’t speak and she focuses on the sensation, eyes fixed on the fire.

Eventually, Astarion puts the comb away and reaches for the bottle. As the cork pops off, the familiar scent fills her nostrils. It is unmistakably his, the scent she first smelled that day after the nautiloid crash, when he put a dagger to her throat. He dabs a tiny bit onto his fingers and works it into her scalp, and she can’t help but think about the implications of her hair smelling like him. Would the other companions notice? Would Shadowheart smell it as she tended to Eve’s wounds after a battle? What would she make of it? She doubts anyone would be surprised, seeing as Astarion was so blatant in his efforts of seduction, so unabashedly convinced she would say yes. Admittedly, there is not much to gossip about at camp and she is almost certain people have already assumed that the two of them had slept together.

She decides that’s a problem for another time and she focuses on the feeling of his fingers against her scalp, gentle yet focused. She relishes the unfamiliar sensation of being cared for, pampered even, and she does not notice the moment her eyelids flutter shut, her head falling to the side to rest against his thigh.

“Are you about to start purring?”

Eve’s eyes snap open and she sits up, moving away from him hastily as if his touch burned.

“Sorry, I–”

“No need to apologize, dear, I tend to have that effect on people. Just try not to think about all the bliss these fingers could bring you.”

That familiar silky tone makes Eve’s stomach tighten, heat rising to her cheeks, and for a moment she considers letting her guard down, a flirty response forming at the tip of her tongue. But then she remembers why she said no to Astarion’s advances in the first place.

Why this can never happen.

She contemplates getting up and leaving, cutting this short, but her legs don’t seem to follow as she remains seated in front of him. Though the pragmatic side of her is determined to decline him, the reckless, selfish part just wants to enjoy this. And truth be told, her pragmatic side rarely won these disputes.

This is harmless, she tells herself and almost believes it.

She scoffs, rolling her shoulders back, and Astarion takes it as an invitation to resume his work.

“You are aware that if you tell someone not to think about something, you make them think about it, right? Just so we’re clear.”

“Oh really?” he gasps, voice dripping with self-contentment. “How inconvenient for you then. I’m sorry dear, I had no idea”

“Of course you didn’t,” she says with a smile. “Your confidence is quite enviable, you know.”

“How so?” he asks, amused, as he reaches for the comb.

“It seems you’re under the impression that anyone in their right mind would want to sleep with you the first chance they get.”

Astarion chuckles as he parts her hair down the middle and begins to braid one side.

“It’s not an impression, darling, it’s the truth. With centuries of experience to back it up.”

His tone is light, but there is a tinge of bitterness to his words and Eve realizes that he’s not bragging—he’s admitting something he’d rather not be true.

“I see. Well, we have talked about this.”

“Oh, I know, and I respect your decision, however baffling it is. But that doesn’t mean I can’t… entertain the idea from time to time, hm?”

“Right.” She nods, warmth spreading down her chest to her stomach. “So, do you entertain that idea often?”

“A gentleman never tells,” he responds as he finishes the braid and ties it off, the ends brushing softly against Eve’s shoulders. He moves to the other side, gently tugging on her hair.

“It’s quite bold of you to call yourself a gentleman. Bold, or just delusional.”

“You hurt me, dear,” he gasps. “What did I ever do that made you think of me otherwise?”

“The list is quite long.”

“We have time.”

“For one, you snuck up on me in the middle of the night to bite me.”

“Touché. Not my proudest moment.”

“Not sure why you thought having teeth in my neck wouldn’t wake me up. But alright. Let’s see… you also ambushed me and threatened me with a dagger.”

“I did apologize for that one.”

“Oh, and you also insisted on opening the door to that godsdamned barn and now that image will forever be burned into my memory.”

“Don’t pretend that wasn’t funny, though.”

“Yes, all of these encounters were quite exhilarating. It’s impossible to be bored when you’re around, I’ll give you that.”

“The feeling is mutual,” he responds, and suddenly Eve is not sure if it is an innocuous comment or a more earnest admission. His words settle heavily in the pit of her stomach, but before she can overthink them, Astarion ties off the braid and declares:

“I think we’re done.”

Eve reaches up, her fingers tracing the weave of the braid, trying to decipher its shape. It feels taut, but not uncomfortably so.

“Look at me,” he says and she turns to face him. He assesses the hairstyle, cocking his head. “Come.”

Eve follows him towards the outside of his tent, where an ornate mirror rests on top of a small table. He guides her to stand with her back towards it, then hands her a small mirror, the same one she saw him stare into just a few nights ago. An odd thought occurs to her and she voices it before catching herself:

“Why do you have so many mirrors lying about?”

It’s an obvious question, but one she doubts has a simple answer. Eve assumes the others might see it as Astarion trying to uphold a certain image of himself, one of confidence and vanity, even if the mirrors are just useless props to him. But she knows it must mean more.

There was an undeniable sense of longing to him that night when she saw him looking into the mirror, when he confessed to her that he did not recall what his face looked like before it grew fangs and his eyes turned red. He asked her to be his mirror then and it was one of the first times she felt she was actually seeing the real him.

While she has never cared much about her reflection, she cannot imagine being unable to see it. As indifferent as she was about the face staring back at her, she did appreciate being able to confirm that she was still herself, that despite all of the chaos in her mind, there was a sense of physical continuity that grounded her. She reckons that not being able to do this would be hard for just about anyone, but perhaps especially for a man of Astarion’s background.

She has heard stories about high elves and their complicated self-care rituals, how they could spend hours tending to their appearance. On multiple evenings now, she has seen Astarion mend the elaborate embroidery on his clothes, something that the others might have deemed as vain and impractical, but that was so obviously important to him, so imperative to him remaining himself throughout all this madness. She wonders if that’s partially why he misses his reflection so much, how he can no longer see the result of all these efforts.

But of course, why would she expect a real answer?

“I like to intimidate my interlocutors,” he says, not skipping a beat, as if he had a practiced response at the ready. “Whoever approaches my tent must first be met with their own reflection, before seeing all this.” He gestures theatrically to his body. “It tends to bring people down a peg.”

“Sure,” Eve says with a hesitant smile. She has come to accept that the scarce moments of Astarion’s genuineness never come up as requested, always catching her off guard instead.

“In all honesty though,” he begins, and her stomach dips at the prospect of learning something real about him. “I have changed so much these past few tendays. I can walk in the sun, wade through rivers, enter homes uninvited…” he trails off, gaze fixed on something far beyond her. “I wonder if maybe one of these days, as I walk back to my tent, I might catch my reflection. Who knows what the tadpole has in store for me?”

He chuckles at the end there, but it is a solemn sort of laugh, one that does not hide whatever longing is raking his undead heart.

Eve thinks about all he has lost. All he has gained. How the parasite, a source of great distress to their companions, has been nothing but liberating for him. They were so hell-bent on finding a cure, but who knows where that would leave him?

“Now, will you please admire my work?” he asks impatiently, tilting the mirror in her hand so she can see the back of her head.

It is neatly parted down the middle, two braids at either side finishing off in short ponytails. She touches it again, not sure if her hair was ever this contained, this deliberate.

“You should see it from the front,” he says, taking the small mirror away and guiding her towards the large one resting on the table.

Her reflection startles her. Eve is not sure when she last saw her face so clearly, not distorted in a river or puddle, all its imperfections clearly visible. She takes a step forward, taking in each and every one of her freckles, the scar running down the side of her face, the faint tattoo of a dagger lining her throat.

There is something unsettling in her reflection, something bare and shameless. For a brief moment, she sees her lips twist into a grin, and it’s as if the part of her she had longed to keep hidden, the part that relished the feeling of the bard’s warm blood trickling down her arms, is staring straight at her. It lasts a mere moment and she can’t tell if she had imagined it or not.

“I–” she stutters, taking a step back. “My face seems so bare now,” is all she manages to say and it is not a lie as much as it is not the whole truth. “I’m not sure I like it that way.”

“Well, you’re objectively wrong,” he scoffs, and the closeness of his voice startles her. She glances back and sees Astarion standing right behind her, but in the mirror it’s just her reflection staring back. “But, if it makes you feel better, you could always do this.”

He reaches his hand around her head and gently pulls out a strand of hair from each of the braids. Eve observes the reflection in silence, mesmerized as her hair seems to magically free itself, falling to frame her face. She likes the look of it—neat, but not too proper.

“That should help,” he continues. “But if it bothers you at any point, you could always tuck it behind your ear.”

Astarion hesitates for a moment, but then reaches out to do just that. It’s such a light touch, his fingertips grazing the shell of her ear for a mere second, but it still feels like an electric current sparking down her chest, lighting up every inch of her skin.

It strikes her then that there is no getting over him. And as much as she tried to ignore her attraction to Astarion, it only seemed to intensify.

“Like that.” His soft voice brings her back down to the Material Plane.

She turns to face him then, her chest tightening when she finds him standing closer than expected.

“Thank you, I– I appreciate this.”

“You are very welcome,” he says, taking a step back. “I prefer it when my allies can see whom they’re punching. Plus, it will make drinking from you that much easier, not having your hair stick to my face.”

“Sure, sure,” she chuckles. “Gods forbid you do a nice thing just for the sake of being nice.”

“Exactly, that doesn’t sound like me.”

“Well, thank you again.” And then, before she can do something foolish: “Goodnight, Astarion.”

She turns and starts heading towards her tent.

“Eve–”

Her name sounds so odd coming from his mouth that she can’t tell if he has ever uttered it before, usually opting for some unfoundedly affectionate pet name instead.

She stops and turns back to face him. Astarion opens his mouth and if Eve didn’t know any better she would swear it looked like he was about to tell her something important. But instead he clears his throat and says:

“Just try not to mess it up. It should hold for about two days if you don’t do anything too extreme. Goodnight.”

Astarion turns around and goes into his tent. Eve’s eyes follow his movement and a hint of disappointment sinks into her chest when he doesn’t turn to look at her again.

Two nights later, as Eve is distilling some potions of speed, Astarion approaches her, comb in hand.

“Darling, the state of your hair leaves a lot to be desired.”

She rolls her eyes and goes to sit in the same spot as last time, waiting for him to follow.

“You know, I could do this myself if you showed me how,” she says once he’s settled behind her. Not because she would actually prefer to do it herself, but because she is curious about his response. “I’m sure you have better things to do with your time.”

“Ha! Fishing for compliments, are we now?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Eve replies, shifting uneasily in her seat. She’s not sure what response she was expecting, but certainly not this.

“Oh, please. You’re waiting for me to tell you how much I enjoy your company, how I look forward to this brief shared moment with you, how the rush of ecstasy when my dagger stops a beating heart is nothing compared to the feel of your hair slipping through my fingers?” There it is: his theatrical cadence that she knows all too well. She bids farewell to the hope of any genuine revelation from him.

“That’s not what I–”

“I thought I made it abundantly clear that I am fond of your company. If you’re concerned that this is part of some ploy to bed you, rest assured that I can tell where I’m not wanted. Now, do you have any more asinine comments to make, or can I get to work?”

Eve tenses at his words. It’s not that he is not wanted. She considers telling him the truth about that night, revealing more than she ever has, but she decides it might not be the best moment. Instead, she just replies:

“No, that’s all.”

“Wonderful,” he replies, as his fingers start guiding the comb.

It becomes an odd sort of routine, but not an unwelcome one.

The tieflings sure know how to party. Whether it’s their general disposition or just the elation that comes with escaping the inescapable. The sheer joy of surviving another day when all the cards were dealt against you.

Either way, there is not a sober soul in sight. Eve is caught in a whirlwind of hugs, toasts, and dancing, and she is high on this victory, high on people calling her a hero—it’s not a word she would ever use for herself, but she doesn’t mind playing the part, indulging in the fantasy for one night.

Her mind is currently free of the insidious voice, and it feels like she finally proved it wrong. She can be good. She has a choice.

The alcohol is flowing, the music is captivating, and everyone’s inhibitions are lowering by the minute. Even Lae’zel, who initially ignored everyone and proceeded to sharpen her sword (be it out of duty or an attempt to drown out the music with the piercing sound of her grindstone,) was eventually convinced to join the festivities. A couple drinks in, she managed to drag Wyll onto the dancefloor despite his earlier sullen demeanor, and later challenged Halsin to an arm-wrestling match, which gathered quite the audience despite the current stalemate.

The only person who’s missing the frey is Astarion, who watches everyone from a distance, drinking wine by himself in front of his tent. Eve keeps feeling his eyes on her as she meanders through the crowd, realizing she doesn’t exactly mind it.

Quite the opposite, actually.

She is sitting at a makeshift table with Karlach, who pours them another round of beers and looks out onto the colorful crowd with a wide smile on her face.

“We did one Hell of a good job, mate.”

She goes to pat Eve on the back but stops midway, groaning in frustration as she takes her hand away.

“Fuck, sorry. I forget sometimes.” She runs her fingers through her hair and says: “Ahh, we are celebrating, I should be able to hug you all, I should be able to…”

“I’m sorry, Karlach,” Eve says, unsure of how to comfort her.

She takes another sip and watches as Karlach stares off into the middle distance, as if contemplating something. Eventually she turns to Eve and says:

“Do you think Gale could teach me how to cast Mage Hand before the night is over? You know, to help a girl out.”

Eve spits her drink out as she laughs, Karlach joining in.

“What? I’m serious!”

Eve clears her throat and wipes the beer off her chin.

“Oh I know you are and I totally get it. You should definitely ask him, even if just to see his reaction.”

“Oh my gods, I bet he would be so cute about it!” She straightens in her seat and dons a serious expression, lowering her voice to impersonate the wizard: “Why Karlach, I thought you’d never ask! May I inquire why the sudden interest in handling the Weave?” In her regular voice, she adds: “He would turn red in an instant, the poor bloke.” She sighs before taking another sip. “Well, at least one of us is getting some action tonight. Good for you, soldier.”

Eve stares at her blankly for a moment.

“What are you talking about?”

Karlach mirrors her gaze, looking genuinely dumbfounded by the question.

“That brooding prick over there!” she exclaims way too loudly as she points towards Astarion’s tent. “Who else? You two are not exactly subtle about it!”

Eve locks eyes with Astarion across camp and a flush blooms on her face the moment his lips turn up into that stupid, smug smirk.

“Gods damn it, stop yelling!” she pleads, shifting in her seat so she doesn’t have to look at him. In a hushed tone she adds: “We’re not sleeping together.”

“But–” Karlach’s eyes widen as she points to Eve’s neck. “But your neck is always bruised. You’re telling me he drinks your blood every night–”

“It’s not every night…”

“Eve, be for fucking real. It’s most nights.”

“Yeah, okay.” Eve shrugs, resigned. “It’s most nights.”

“And I’m supposed to believe nothing ever happens? I thought that was the whole point of the biting, that it was some weird fetish thing–”

“It’s not some weird fetish thing,” Eve insists, feeling her face grow even hotter. “It’s literally just food for him. There’s nothing sexual about it.”

But Karlach just throws her head back in laughter.

“Sounds like you’re in denial, babe. He is biting your neck, not your bloody elbow! That’s erotic as fuck.”

“Oh gods,” Eve sighs as she buries her face in her hands.

“So do you do it sitting up or lying down or what?”

“Well, the first time he sort of awkwardly hovered over me,” Eve says, gesturing vaguely. “But now usually I sit up and he sits behind me.”

“Oh, so he’s all up in there.”

“All up in where?!”

“Your space. You’re, like, pressed against each other and he’s biting your neck. And you’re telling me that’s not sexy? Snap out of it, mate.”

Eve takes a significant gulp of her drink so she doesn’t have to respond. But Karlach is relentless when she asks:

“So, what does it feel like?”

“Huh?”

“The bite. What does it feel like?”

“Well, it’s this sharp sting at first and then it’s sort of numb and… cool and…” She waves her hand, struggling to find the right words. “Almost pleasant.”

“Almost pleasant. Mhm.” Karlach pauses for a moment, then adds: “Does it get you all hot and bothered?”

Eve’s face gets even hotter, though she’s not sure how that’s possible.

“Wha– I–” she stutters and curses herself for it.

“HA! It does, it totally fucking does. I told ya.”

“Gods, fine. Yes, it does feel good, but I don’t do it to feel good, I do it to–”

“Yeah I know, you do it to help him out. I’m not doubting that, I’m really not! But it’s not wrong to enjoy it while you’re at it. What are you, Ilmater? You’re allowed to have some fun, for fuck’s sake.”

Eve stares at her for a moment, considering her words.

“What? Oh, come on! If not for this infernal piece of junk,” she says, fist pounding at her chest, “I would happily ride that man to the Feywild and back. He’s fine as all Hells. And you’re obviously into each other—who are you kidding?”

“Fine, yes, he is really hot.” Tongue loosened with ale, she just keeps going: “And funny. And smart. And thoughtful when he wants to be.”

“Oh.” Karlach’s eyes widen as she puts her hands up, and Eve realizes she said too much. “Oh girl. So you like him.”

“Well, yeah, I like all of you…” Eve says, unconvincingly.

“No, I mean you like like him.”

“Whatever.” She waves her hand dismissively. “I think you’re reading into it too much.”

“And I think you should stop being so godsdamn stubborn and just go talk to him. Come on, live a little! I’m not saying you have to marry the guy but at least see what that mouth can do, other than whine all the time.”

A loud cheer erupts from the crowd gathered around Lae’zel and Halsin, though from her position, Eve can’t see who is winning.

“Look,” Karlach continues. “All teasing aside, I know you’re not this clueless. I know you know you like him, and we don’t have to talk about it anymore, but I just thought… Well, this might be all new to you, what with your memory stuff and all that, but trust me, there is nothing bad or shameful about feeling this way. It’s perfectly normal! Liking someone is so much fun actually, just allow yourself to feel it!”

A weak voice from the back of Eve’s mind chimes in—not the blood-dripping one, but rather, the closest thing she has to a conscience.

Not shameful, no—just wrong. Selfish and dangerous to let anyone get too close to you when you’re–

But it gets drowned out by the pleasant buzz of alcohol, by the music and merriment around her, by the weight of Astarion’s gaze still piercing holes into her skin.

Maybe it doesn’t have to be this complicated?

“You’re right, I’ll talk to him. Can you just top me off first?” Eve asks, nodding to the wooden keg behind Karlach.

“Nah, mate. I think you might wanna start sobering up for this.”

Eve groans and stands up, leaving the mug on the table.

“I guess. Thanks for the pep talk.”

“Hey, you can always talk to Mama K. Now quit stalling!”

Eve leaves hesitantly and tries to make conversation with some tieflings on the way, but eventually she gives up the charade and just heads straight to Astarion.

With every step she takes, she feels the weight of his gaze, its intensity akin to that of a predator stalking its prey. But that doesn’t seem quite right, does it? Not when it is she who comes to him so willingly, against her better instincts.

Seeking relief from his piercing eyes, she looks down at the ruffles around his collar, at the deep cut of his neckline, never tied correctly, revealing way too much of his pale chest and she wonders how cold it would feel against her heated skin if they–

“My eyes are up here,” Astarion says, not without amusement, and the proximity of his voice snaps Eve out of her thoughts.

She shuffles awkwardly, taking half a step back once she realizes how close she’s standing.

“The lacing on your shirt is all messed up.” She points to his neckline, trying to distract from her not-so-subtle gawking. But Astarion doesn’t take the bait, eyes not leaving hers for a second when he asks:

“And that bothers you because…?”

“It doesn’t. It just seems like something that would bother you, but you might not be aware of it since…” She bites her tongue, the unspoken words hanging between them.

Since you can’t see your reflection.

“Here, let me,” she rushes to fill the silence and to her own surprise, steps up to reach for the leather laces.

Astarion flinches ever so noticeably the moment her fingers brush against his skin as she pulls the string out of the eyelets. But then he rolls his shoulders back, a familiar smirk blooming on his lips when he says:

“Any excuse to get your hands on me, I see.”

“Glad I could inflate your ego. You don’t do it nearly enough yourself.”

Eve takes her time as she threads the laces anew, making sure it’s all symmetrical, as Astarion watches her every move in silence. Her heart is pounding, his scent filling her nostrils, that godsdamned scent that has become hers, too, ever since he showed her how to care for her hair and gave her a spare bottle of the scented oils he always carried. The combination is alluring but strangely comforting, one she would not mind waking up to every–

Oh girl. So you like him.

“There, that’s better,” she says, taking a step back, and she is both relieved and disappointed by the distance that creates between them. Desperate to change the subject, she asks: “So, why are you sulking over here in the corner instead of joining the party? Is it not up to your standards, Magistrate Astarion?”

Astarion scoffs, but there is no real edge to it.

“It’s Magistrate Ancunín, actually. Or, was.”

“Ancunín,” Eve repeats, enjoying how the word rolls off her tongue. “All this time traveling together and I finally learn your last name. Maybe in three months I’ll know your favorite color.”

Astarion chuckles in a way he rarely does—every time Eve takes it as a small victory.

“Don’t get greedy.”

“So, can I convince you to join the party?” she asks, hoping he will say no. She’d much rather stay right here.

“I suppose it’s not much of a party, is it? Just a couple of hellspawn drunkenly twirling about, and all they have to serve is this vinegar.”

He raises the bottle in his hand with a scowl, and without much thinking, Eve grabs it from him.

“Excuse you–” he drawls with feigned offense, but makes no effort to stop her.

They lock eyes as Eve brings the bottle up to her lips and takes a sip. She lets her eyelids flutter shut, enjoying how the rich vintage blossoms on her tongue.

“The wine is fine,” she declares, placing the bottle on the small table that houses all of Astarion’s mirrors. “I think you just like to complain.”

“Well, I think no one here knows how to have fun.”

“And you do? It doesn’t look like it.”

“Fun can take on many forms, darling. This,” he says, gesturing to the drunken crowd behind her, “is just not my… personal preference.”

“And what is?” she asks, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible—an increasingly difficult endeavor.

“Well, sex, for one. A night of passion. Alas, the only person I would deem suitable for the task has already indicated her lack of interest. And now she has decided to come over here and taunt me.”

An opening. A snap decision, before she can overthink it.

“You never know—people change their minds.”

Astarion’s eyes glint curiously in the low light as he leans closer.

“Interesting. Have you? Changed your mind, that is.”

“I might…” Words spill out of her before she thinks them through: “If you say please.”

Bleeding Hells, I did not just say that outloud.

Astarion’s eyes widen with a delightful mixture of shock and amusement.

“What?” he drawls, voice hushed.

Well, there is no backing out now, is there?

“You heard me,” she says, crossing her arms for emphasis.

“I should say please?” He puts his hand to his still heart. “You’re the one crawling back just like I predicted.”

“Fine.” Eve shrugs, her lips turning up in what she hopes to be an easygoing smile.

Against every nerve in her body, she turns on her heel and starts to walk away. It only takes two steps before she hears Astarion’s voice from behind her:

“Please.”

Heat rushes to her cheeks, but then she takes a deep breath and tries to remain calm when she turns and looks him up and down.

“Good boy. I’ll see you later.”

Astarion laughs, a rare genuineness to it.

“Cheeky,” he says, the word near-sinful coming from his lips. “There is a clearing in the woods just five minutes north from here. Come find me there once the party dies down.”

“I might,” Eve says, but her attempt at nonchalance is instantly foiled by Astarion’s insistence:

“You will.”

“Fine, I will,” she blurts out. “BYE NOW.”

Astarion chuckles and says:

“See you later… lover.”

Eve walks away hastily, a part of her wanting to giggle with glee, the other horrified by the consequences of her actions. To keep herself from overthinking the whole affair, she heads to the sizeable crowd and pushes through to the front row of the arm-wrestling match that is still in full swing.

In the low light, Eve can see the faintest glint of sweat on Halsin’s forehead, while Lae’zel, half his size, seems thoroughly unbothered, her eyes narrowed in determination. Eve follows the firm lines of their flexing muscles up to their clenched fists that remain firmly above the center of the table.

“They’ve been like this for the past half hour,” Guex whispers to her, his eyes wide with awe.

“Perhaps it would be wise to acknowledge both of our strengths and proclaim this a draw,” Halsin suggests in his usual calm tone, though Eve senses it is taking him considerable effort to keep his voice steady.

“I didn’t take you for a coward, druid,” Lae’zel says through gritted teeth. “I don’t do draws,” she spits the last word out as if it were the most heinous insult. “I win. Or I die.”

“Well, that seems awfully dramatic,” Halsin says, a hint of a smile on his face that is otherwise tense with effort. “But I respect it.”

Eventually Halsin’s grip falters for a split second and Lae’zel doesn’t hesitate. Their fists slam against the table as the crowd erupts with applause.

“You bested me, Lae’zel of Crèche K’liir,” Halsin admits solemnly as he bows before the woman in question. Through the curtain of brown hair that falls around his face, Eve sees a flash of a smirk and suspects that Halsin just wanted to be done.

The crowd disperses, and Eve gets dragged out onto the dancefloor by Zevlor of all people, who looks relaxed for the first time since they’ve met him. To a collective delight, Gale and Rolan join forces and paint the sky with sparkling cascades of dancing lights.

In that moment, jumping to the music, magic glimmering above her, Eve senses this overwhelming gut feeling that everything might turn out alright.

In the crowd of people she helped, she doesn’t feel like an outlier, but rather, a part of something greater than herself. All this time she’d been worried about letting people get close to her, but maybe it is precisely because she has grown closer to them all that she has been able to fight her instincts and make her own decisions. Perhaps a solitary life is not the “responsible choice.” Perhaps what she needs is the exact opposite.

Eve follows Karlach’s advice and does not drink any further. She has some water and food and she feels herself sobering up as the party slowly begins to quiet down and Astarion disappears somewhere in the forest.

With this newly gained mental clarity comes a wave of second thoughts, and among them, a realization that she is not even sure if she’s ever had sex. Though if she had, she is grateful that she doesn’t remember the details, given the few gory glimpses she’s gotten into other aspects of her past life.

Would she even be good at it? Can you be bad at it? If she has done it before, will instincts and muscle memory just take over?

No, nothing taking over, no thank you.

She supposes that if all else fails, she can just make up for her lack of experience with enthusiasm.

Fuck, what was I thinking?!

Astarion certainly seems like he knows what he’s doing. Maybe she can just let him take the lead and hope she doesn’t embarrass herself.

Gods fucking damn it.

Eve takes a deep breath, the chilly evening air grounding as it fills her lungs.

It’s fine. It will be fine.

She doesn’t want to back out this time.

Thoughts of Astarion have been flooding her mind for longer than she cares to admit. And perhaps this is an opportunity to finally stop wondering what his chest would feel like pressed against her, what his fingers would feel like digging into her hips–

Surely she will sate her curiosity and then she will be able to focus on more important matters.

After all, they’re both adults. They could be dead tomorrow. That’s all there is to it. This doesn’t have to mean anything… right?

A single thought reverberates through her mind as she heads towards the treeline:

Just this once.

________________

thank you for reading! if you enjoyed, I have a whole series about these two, because as you might have guessed, it was not "just this once" :)

tag not-quite-list: @roguishcat 💕 (lmk if you'd like to be added!)

#my fic #astarion x durge #astarion x the dark urge #durgestarion #astarion fanfiction #bg3 fanfiction

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luvhughes43 · 2 years ago

Text

bullshit on the internet | jack hughes x reader

suki waterhouse masterlist - luvhughes43 masterlist🌷

summary: y/n and jacks relationship is new, and his past relationship with a model over-shines his new relationship. fans are always asking for jack and his ex to get back together, which leaves reader feeling stuck in a relationship thats not hers.

lyrics: "i saw you were with her only last night, i got caught up by your picture in a headline" & "it looks like you love her online" & "when they want you back together like a movie, then i wonder, is there any room for me?"

Note: for context purposes jacks ex gf is going to be named alice

word count: 1k

1 year earlier

present day

jackhughes just posted !

jackhughes

Liked by y/nuser, trevorzegras, and others

jackhughes my girl❤️

tagged: y/nuser

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trevorzegras YOU HAVE A GF??

colecaufield u literally knew about this

trevorzegras yeah i know i just wanted to be dramatic

fan01 we want u with alice not whoever this is

y/nuser in love with u actually

jackhughes i love you the most actually

fan02 pls get back together with alice😭🙏 u guys were perfect

hockeyfan01 great now get back on the ice!

fan03 not the hard launch😭 she's so pretty tho😭💗

lhughes_06 congrats man

*liked by jackhughes

aliceoffical

Liked by alanabc, stellajones, and others

aliceoffical on the cover of vogue💋

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dioralice LOMLS SO PRETTY

fan04 congrats girly💗💗

lilyrose_depp insanely gorgeous

fan05 have u seen jacks new girl? Youre so much prettier u two need to get back together

*liked by aliceoffical

fan06 prettiest girl in the world

y/nuser

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y/nuser early morning⛅️

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jackhughes ❤️❤️

*liked by y/nuser

fan07 BREAK UP WITH JACK!!!

yourbff prettiest girl💗 i miss u

fan08 there’s no way he left alice for her😭

fan09 we want our fav couple back

You and Jack had been dating for a few months. You knew he was in a very public relationship with a model before he started dating you and you didn’t mind. Not until you and Jack went public and all of the internet seemed to be against your relationship. You never blamed him for having a past with Alice, but being constantly reminded that nobody wanted to see you and Jack together… It hurt. You weren’t sure why you haven't limited your instagram account yet, or why you didn't just go private. it was hard not getting caught up with what you saw online, and if there were going to be news articles and twitter pages posting about his past relationships, they may as well comment on your page too.

Jack was away for a game in Alice's home city when you got the twitter notification.

You turned off your phone and closed your eyes. You knew Jack was still friends with some of his exes, but with Alice it felt different. You knew they were serious before, and you couldn’t help but wonder that if he could, if he’d run off with her.

There were a bunch of different narratives floating around. Talking about how Alice is Jack's true love, and that they were destined to be together. You couldn't lie, after once again going down a rabbit-hole and looking at all the photos of them together, you couldn’t deny how in love they looked.

jack❤️: Did you see the photos of me and alice?

jack❤️: I only agreed to meet with her because of all the press. I don't want them talking about us getting back together. I made it clear to her that we’re over

jack❤️: I love you

y/n: I know. It's all just bullshit on the internet. I love you too. travel safe

jack❤️: I love you more. I'm really sorry about all of this. I’ll see you soon

When Jack finally got home things were different. you finally felt good in your relationship after the rough week when he was away.

“I’m really sorry about everything,” Jack reassured you for what seemed like the hundredth time.

“I just… with Alice it’s different. I don't want you to see her again. It’s gotten worse” you look down at your hands so you could avoid eye contact with Jack.

“The comments have gotten worse?” he asked, sitting up in bed to look at you.

“Yeah… I just, they want you guys back together so badly. It’s literally like a movie Jack,” your laugh was tense as you told Jack your true feelings. “I just don’t know if there’s room in your life for me,” you whisper after a brief pause and you feel Jack tense next to you.

“Pass me your phone,” Jack said, holding out one of his hands expectantly. You did as told and passed it over silently. He scrolled around for a minute, before showing you your own instagram comments causing you to frown.

“I know what they’re saying about me” you were annoyed. Did he want you to be more upset?

“No look at the accounts” he said.

“I don’t get it,” you stated, pulling your phone back into your grasp and scrolling through more comments.

“Do you know any of these people?”

“No…”

“Then what they’re saying shouldn’t matter. I’ve moved on from Alice, i’m with someone who I love” Jack cooed, reaching a finger up to touch your cheek causing you to smile. “There’s only room in my life for you. You’re the one I want y/n. I’m not reading these comments and agreeing with them. I text you, or I come home to you and I think I am so lucky to have y/n in my life” Jack smiles and so do you. He takes your phone back and disabled your instagram comments, and then limits his own. “I’m not going to let anyone make you feel like you don’t belong with me” was all he said as he started playing with your social media settings.

You sat back and admired the man you loved.

In the morning you and Jack laid in bed, your head resting on his chest as he combed your hair with his fingers. you felt so alive when you were with Jack. You could feel the little bubbles of happiness and excitement whenever you were with him.

you moved to sit up, looking down at Jack you smiled and he smiled back up at you. “morning” he mumbled as he trailed his hand down your shoulder and arm. “good morning” your smile widened as you leant down and kissed him on both of his cheeks.

you didn’t check your phone for the few days you stayed with Jack at his apartment. you were on a high, and you couldn’t believe how melancholy you’d get when you were feeling low.

#suki waterhouse fic list #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes #jack hughes blurb #jack hughes one shot #jack hughes fic #nhl fic #nhl imagine #nhl fanfiction #nhl blurb

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bumblebeedrizzzle · 2 months ago

Text

You Can’t Fool Me

In which Iruma gets injured for the first time in the demon realm.

This fic contains ✨tickling✨ so if that might bother you, then I suggest you keep scrolling!

A/N: I’m really happy with how this turned out!! I wanted to write some good old angst/comfort. I also felt like challenging myself to write what would happen if Azz was angry/frustrated with Iruma. I feel like it's a side of him we haven’t seen yet. Also, Iruma is generally a cheerful guy, but I feel like the inside of his brain must be a mess sometimes. He had a really hard life and still probably struggles with believing he deserves love (show him otherwise, everyone!). I feel like he would be quite reluctant to ask for/accept help since he’s so used to taking care of himself.

Also, LOL. This started because I wanted to write a princess carry scene. It wasn’t even meant to have any tickling. Then it became this. I’m not upset at all, just amused.

CW: Some cursing

Well, shit. Now he’d really done it. Iruma looked down at his ankle, already beginning to swell slightly, and sighed. It’d been a minute since he’d felt so human here. He stopped to think for a moment; he knew enough about the demon realm by now to know that weakness wasn’t something to go flaunting around. But then, he was used to taking care of himself from his time back on earth. There was no need to bother anyone; getting home by himself would be no issue. That left what to do after... Should he ask Opera or his Grandpa for help once he got back? It was only a sprained ankle, so he didn’t want to overthink things. After all, how many injuries had he patched up over the years back in the human world? He took another deep breath as he realized there was no point in making a deal out of such a minor injury. First he’d get home, then find some wraps, and take care of it. He’d be careful on his way to and from school and this would be over within a few days. Problem solved. Thank devils Clara and Azz hadn’t been here to witness his blunder... He had a feeling they might have overreacted some. Feeling satisfied that he’d worked through everything, he picked himself back up and began hobbling home.

• • •

Everything was fine. Everything was just fine. All he had to do was focus on the next step. Then another. That’s all there was to it. Or at least, that’s what Iruma was telling himself so he didn’t lose the will to walk and just sit down. For the past few days, he’d tried icing it, elevating it, and wrapping it. The whole nine yards. It had helped a little, but devils did the thing hurt. It hurt so bad. It didn’t seem to get any better either, only worse. It looked more swollen than before and he couldn’t put most of his weight on it. But he was stubborn and a little scared. He’d gotten through worse and now wasn’t the time to fold. Not to mention that the idea of missing school and not seeing his friends sounded so much worse.

He was currently walking to his next class with Azz. His attention was torn between staying focused on their conservation and focusing on his footing. It was just his luck that a rock would appear the moment he took to look up at Azz’s face. Before he knew it, he had stumbled and found himself falling forward.

Damn, was I always this clumsy?

He braced himself for pain, hoping it wouldn’t make his injury worse than it already was. This is fine. I’m fine. Everything is fine.

“Iruma-sama!”

He didn’t hit the ground. He blinked, trying to process what had happened. He felt Azz’s arm was wrapped protectively around him, steadying him.

“T-thanks Azz-kun! Whoops, haha, silly me. Have to watch where I step...”

“Iruma-sama, are you alright? Are you tired? I could carry some things for you?”

Iruma took one look at Asmodeus’ worried face and gulped. I don’t want to make anyone worry about me. It’s fine. I’m fine.

“Nothing to worry about! Especially thanks to your reflexes,” he added.

“You may be able to fool others, but you cannot fool me, Iruma-sama.” Azz said seriously. “What is going on?” He still hadn’t let go.

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about Azz-kun! Come on, let’s get going to class”, he said with what he hoped was a convincing smile.

He gently shrugged out of the demon’s grasp and took a tentative step forward. Then another and another. Asmodeus followed after a moment. As Iruma gained confidence, he began to walk faster, determined to prove to Azz that he was fine. Unfortunately, pure determination was not going to heal his ankle that fast. Within a minute, he managed to tweak his sprained ankle again.

“Guh!” he said, crumpling to the ground.

Iruma closed his eyes. This was so embarrassing... He didn’t want to see Azz’s reaction. While deep down he knew it would be fine, he was still scared. What if Azz laughed at him? Or called him weak?? His heart twisted painfully at the idea. Plus he’d just told the demon he was fine. I am fine. I’m...fine. He repeated the mantra to himself, as if that would make it come true. Iruma was so caught up in his ruminations, that he didn’t hear Azz approach. He only noticed when he felt a soft hand above his ankle; the injured one. He frantically tried to pull away, but Azz’s grip was as firm as it was gentle. He heard an audible gasp, which he knew there could only be one cause for. Shit. Even though he had it bandaged, Azz would still be able to see that it was purple and definitely swollen. Iruma reluctantly looked up into Azz’s worried eyes and immediately felt so, so guilty.

“Iruma-sama, why didn’t you tell me??”

He was having trouble looking into those eyes.

“I-it's not that big of a deal... just a sprained ankle...”

“What do you mean, not a big deal?? A paper-cut is not a big deal, Iruma-sama. A stubbed toe is not a big deal. Hells, a scratch wouldn’t be that big of a deal. A sprained ankle is. a. big. deal. This is a big deal! Look at how swollen it is!! And purple! When did you even injure it? Has it gotten better at all?!” Asmodeus’ voice steadily raised in volume.

“Just a couple days ago... I’ve been elevating and icing it after school. I didn’t want to miss class.. I wanted to see everyone... I didn’t want to appear weak...” his voice got quieter and quieter.

“I see you have neglected to answer the more important question. Has. it. gotten. better. or. worse.”

Iruma was silent.

“For devil’s sake, you shouldn’t even be walking on this; it will take even longer to heal!! What in the hells has gotten into you?”

Iruma screwed his eyes shut and tried his best to curl up into a ball. Not only had he failed to keep his injury hidden, but now Asmodeus was angry with him. He couldn’t even remember the last time that had happened..

He heard a sigh and suddenly Asmodeus spoke,

“Look, I do not want to be angry at you. I am.. not angry. But, I am frustrated, and a little hurt. Iruma-sama, how would you feel if you were in my place?”

Iruma’s heart throbbed painfully.

“I would.. be worried about you, of course.”

“Then please, you have to take better care of yourself. Do not treat yourself any differently than you would if I or Valec got injured. And it would not kill you to let us help you either.”

“But I can take care of myself just fine, Azz-kun!” he pleaded. “Look, it’s wrapped and I’ve been trying my best. I’ve gotten through much worse!”

Azz’s eyes widened at this. The frustration seemed to melt out of him, replaced with intense concern.

“What do you mean...?”

Iruma looked away as he said,

“I’m not used to receiving help from anyone! I don’t want to be a burden!”

“But, your grandfather..? And Opera-san..? Are you saying they don’t....? That they wouldn’t help..?”

“N-no! Of course not!” Iruma hurriedly said. “I... haven’t always lived with them, though.”

Asmodeus waited to see if Iruma would elaborate, but after several moments in silence decided that today was not the day he would hear about it. He pulled Iruma into a hug, careful not to disturb the injured ankle.

“Fine. I will not pry further today. Just.. understand that we care about you. We are here to help you.” He murmured into Iruma’s hair.

Asmodeus noticed the way Iruma’s shoulders relaxed at this, and it made him feel a bit more like he’d gotten through to his friend.

“All right, we need to get you to the school nurse.”

The shoulder tension was back immediately.

“Are you sure...? I thought it would make me seem weak?”

“Hells no, there’s a difference between sustaining an injury and just being weak. I do not know how you could even question something so obviously wrong. You? Weak? With your rank? It is absolutely absurd to even consider it. Now, let’s get going.”

Asmodeus gathered their things. Iruma moved to try to stand.

“What in the hells do you think you are you doing?”

Iruma tried to recall if he had ever heard Azz curse this much before.

“Um, trying to stand up?”

“On that ankle? I should think not,” Asmodeus scoffed. He returned with their bags on his back. With a quick motion, he swept his arms underneath Iruma’s knees and around his shoulders.

“Wah!?” Iruma spluttered. “A-Azz-kun?? W-what are you doing??”

“What does it look like, Iruma-sama? I am carrying you to the nurse’s office of course.”

“I-I must be heavy though! A-and you have the bags too?”

Asmodeus’ eyes flashed dangerously.

“Are you trying to imply that I am too weak?”

“N-no that isn't what I meant! I just don’t want to trouble you!”

“Trouble me? Please.”

“But… Azz-kun…,” Iruma stammered.

“Would you please stop squirming and just let me take care of you?!” Asmodeus huffed.

The magic word did its thing. Iruma was still very much embarrassed, and still wanted to protest but well... Asmodeus had said please. He never could say no to that.

“I-I suppose..”

“A simple thank you would suffice at a time like this, Iruma-sama. It is my greatest honor to support you in any way I can. Never doubt that.”

Iruma turned a few shades darker red and mumbled “thank you..”, but found himself still quietly fidgeting. It didn’t compare to the actual fight he’d been putting up a minute ago, but it was clearly irking Asmodeus. After a few more steps the demon said,

“If you want to squirm so badly Iruma-sama, shall I give you a reason to?”

Iruma looked up at Asmodeus’ deceivingly bright smile and shivered. His whole face screamed,

Danger!! Do not engage!!

But before Iruma could say anything at all, Azz slipped his fingers into Iruma’s armpit and began lightly scribbling. Seeing how Azz was also carrying him, and had a pretty tight grip, Iruma was totally stuck.

“Wahaha! W-wahahait Ahahahazz-kun! P-please! Hehe!”

“You’re lucky that I need to get you to the nurse’s office, or I think I would tickle you silly so you would never consider doing this again. My goodness, what am I going to do with you, Iruma-sama?”

“Pffft! I-I’m ehehe!! I’m sohohorry! I won’t do it ahahagain, p-promise!!”

Asmodeus seemed to consider this for a moment, then flashed his fangs in another blinding smile.

“Actually, no. I have decided. I will tickle you silly after your ankle has properly healed. Please prepare yourself, Iruma-sama.”

Iruma gulped. He felt flustered and embarrassed, but also a little giddy at the thought.

“For now though, I’ll just distract you with tickles until we get to the nurse’s office. Maybe that’ll stop these ridiculous notions that you’re bothering me from coming out of your mouth.”

“Ahahahazz-kuhuhun! Nohohoho!”

“Oh, Iruma-sama. You got yourself into this mess, you will just have to take it. Tickle tickle, you’ve got nowhere to run.”

“Nahahaha! P-plehehease s-stohop!”

“The tickling or the teasing?” Asmodeus asked with a quirked eyebrow.

“B-bohohoth! Eep! Ihihit tihihickles soho bahahad!”

“Hmmm, no. That doesn’t sound like my problem. Maybe you should have thought about this before you kept your injury from me, tried to walk it off, and implied I was too weak to carry you and our bags”

“B-buhuhut! I-I cahahahan’t mohohohove! EEK! Wahaha, it tickles!! Ihihihit tihihihickles!!”

“Does it now? A fascinating revelation, Iruma-sama.”

Iruma’s laughter went silent for a moment. Azz continued,

“At this rate, you’ll be lucky if I don’t carry you around the rest of today. And the next few days. We shall see what the nurse says. And no matter what, you will be going home in your grandfather’s carriage today.”

Iruma laughed and giggled the whole way to the nurse’s office, all worries of being perceived as weak completely gone. He went home in the carriage, at Asmodeus’ suggestion, and apologized to his Grandfather and Opera-san for keeping the injury from them. He resolved to work on letting his friends and family help him in the future. It was easier said than done, but whenever his resolve wavered, Asmodeus was there to give him a gentle, giggly reminder.

#m!ik #mairimashita! iruma kun #welcome to demon school iruma kun #iruma kun #asmodeus alice #iruazz #tickle community #tickle fic #fanfiction #sfw tickling community #princess carry

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