#i am hiccuping as we speak :( | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

bandgie · 7 months ago

Note

Would you maybe be interested in this?

https://www.tumblr.com/thefantasydenthoughts/745174509121929216/sending-one-more-i-hope-im-not-annoying-i-feel?source=share

a/n: (link) I am yes BUT you know I have to add my own twist

Synopsis: You never expected to run into three terrifyingly handsome men the night you ran away on your wedding, but you didn't expect them to be so inviting either.

warnings: MDNI 18+, fem!reader, 4some, jerking off, multiple orgasms (f!), light pussy play, PIV, cumming inside, no protection, lots of boob play, overstim (f!), GUN INVOLVEMENT (not nsfw), kidnapping?? (kinda), prolly missed more lmao

4.3k words

"Don't scream," you hear a deep voice whisper in your ear before your mouth is covered. "Unless you want metal in your head."

Your small whimpers muffle in his hand, but you nod. The man with chubby cheeks gives you a sympathetic look and frowns at the one holding a gun to your head. "Do you have to say that? You're gonna make her cry."

"Jisung," a cat-like man says his name sternly. "We don't have time for this, let's go."

Jisung grumbles while they lead you to an alleyway away from the main street. The tall man behind you keeps the gun to your head, guiding you to follow them. There are hardly any lights this deep into an alley, but the moon provides enough to help you spot a parked car.

They're taking you back. The thought of your arranged marriage makes you cry, weeping in the hands of your kidnappers. Tears seep through the man's fingers and you taste the saltiness on your lips. Your chest heaves as you try to catch your breath, but the hand on your mouth prevents you from properly inhaling.

You shake your head back and forth, trying to escape from his grip. "No," you sob. "I don't wanna go back. Don't send me back. Please."

The man with the cat eyes unlocks the car and opens the backseat door. "Damn Hyunjin. What'd you tell her?"

"I didn't say shit!" Hyunjin has to bump you toward the car as you try to escape. "She just started crying. Are you sure we have the right girl?"

It takes Hyunjin and Jisung to put you in the car. To ensure your captivity, each of them sits beside you, thigh to thigh. The other one sits in the front, roaring the car engine to life. "All I was told was that she had white heels. That's it."

You're still crying, hiccuping as Hyunjin keeps the gun pointed steadily at you. Jisung takes a comforting approach, opting to hold your shaky hands and smooth over your skin. "Nothing is gonna happen, okay?" He smiles wearily at you. "Just a few questions. That's all."

No way that's all. If your fiancé sent them, they'll do more than just ask questions. "D-don't lie to me," you say through your tears. "You're gonna send me back to h-him and make me m-marry him and you'll kill me if I don't." You expect them to keep feeding you lies in an attempt to calm you, but Jisung's expression is utterly confused.

"Marry? Marry who?" It's the driver who asks. He hasn't put the car into gear yet as he turns to look at you. His face is more terrifying when he's pissed. "Who are you?"

Shouldn't you be asking them that?

But you tell them. You tell them how you were set up for an arranged marriage with a man whose name you don't even know. You tell them that tonight is the night you ran away from your wedding. You're sure he's sent people to find you, and since Hyunjin had that god-forsaken gun, you thought they were the ones.

"Holy shit," Jisung swears when you finish your story. "Chan is gonna kill us."

You're not sure who Chan is, but you're not eager to find out. "Don't tell him! I promise I won't say anything. I swear. I'll pretend like nothing happened and...and I'll give you anything you want! I have money! I don't care how much you ask for, just don't hurt me." Your bottom lip trembles.

Han shares a look with Hyunjin who looks at the man in the front for directions.

"Listen," the driver speaks softly. "We aren't gonna hurt you. We weren't even thinking of it. We were supposed to question a different girl but someone got it wrong." He shoots a look at Jisung. "But I promise, pretty, nothing's gonna happen to you, okay?"

He sounds sincere, and whether he means it or not, it makes you feel just a little better. You nod and wipe the tears sliding down your face, trying to control your breathing. Hyunjin seems to have long abandoned the gun and Jisung’s hand moved to your knee. Suddenly, it’s not too scary having them pushed against you.

"See?" Jisung gives you a sweet smile. "You're gonna be okay. Minho looks all mean, but he's not too bad."

Minho grunts.

"Okay, maybe he is a little bad, but he's not all bad." Jisung gives a reassuring squeeze.

You nod, trying to smile but the need for air is more important. You're still in your wedding dress with a huge coat over it. With the two men sitting hip-to-hip with you, it's starting to feel hot and uncomfortable. You try fanning yourself with your hand, but it's not enough. Deciding it’s better to remove your coat, you slowly shrug the material off. It slides down your shoulders to reveal the dress you tried so hard to conceal.

It's beautiful, much to your dismay. A corset wrapped tightly at your waist so your breasts overfill at the top. It's loose on the bottom, with a slit starting at your upper thigh to expose your leg. It makes you look accentuated, yes, but it's a reminder that you were a pawn. You wish you could remove it entirely.

"Oh wow," Jisung can't help his shock. His eyes lock at your chest before traveling up to your neck. "You look...you look...I mean you were getting married, I know, but-"

"You look beautiful," Hyunjin saves Jisung from embarrassment. You discard the coat on the floor of the car before looking at Hyunjin. Maybe it's because he's no longer threatening you, but he looks charming under the car lights. His eyes remind you of how the crescent moon looks high in the sky. Though his lips seem to demand your attention from his smile, you can’t help but be drawn to the shining metal on his eyebrow.

"I uhh...thanks," you aren't sure which enchanting features to look at. “You look…good too.”

"Thank you," he giggles. "So is this what you were gonna wear for a man you've never even met?" Hyunjin gestures at your dress. Your smile falters and you nod. "What a waste," he places his large hand on your face, thumb stroking your cheek. "Such a pretty thing like you deserves so much more. Don't you think, Ji?"

"So much more," Jisung scoots closer to you. His hand goes to your knee while leaning into your neck. "So pretty." His breath is warm on your skin. His body heat feels like an inviting blanket you want to wrap yourself in. Though you haven’t spoken to Jisung much, he seems to be the ‘nicest’. He was the only one who made an effort to calm you down, even if it didn’t help much at the time.

You can tell Jisung wants to touch you more. He's practically vibrating with need, but he holds back. The only sign he gives you is the hand on your leg. It never travels up, but his fingers make small circles on your skin. His hesitation only works you up more. Feeling his hand on your knee is only a hint at what you might endure tonight. You're surprised to see how much you want to feel all of them touching you.

Still, you have the mind to remember how scared you were moments ago. “I don't- I don't think-" You're cut off by Hyunjin tracing his thumb on your mouth. He taps your bottom lip, pulling it down to reveal your lower teeth.

"Don't think, angel," he sounds like a dream. "You're safe with us, that's all that matters."

Safe? That you aren't too sure of, but you don't try to stop Hyunjin when he leans in. His hand is steady on your cheek while his lips meet yours. The kiss is soft, a gentle mingling to let you know he wouldn't do anything you're not ready for. You tilt your head up to get more of his taste. A specific flavor of coolness meets your mouth, he must wear chapstick.

Mint, you think.

The kiss deepens and his tongue swipes against your lip. You debate on it, unsure if you're really wanting to fuck the same guys who scared the shit out of you minutes ago. But everything just feels so good. Hyunjin's mouth and Han's inching hand. You're already on the run from your finance, what's the harm in fucking up more?

You part your lips, inviting Hyunjin's tongue. He inhales and grunts at the wetness of yours. They slide together and mix, twisting into an open-mouthed kiss crudely.

Hyunjin properly reattaches his mouth to suck on your bottom lip, pulling the skin in a way that makes you whine. Jisung takes the opportunity to slide his hand up the slit, finding home at your inner thigh. You feel his mouth attach to the exposed part of your neck. His tongue is hot on your skin, licking and sucking until your throat turns a bright shade of pink.

"Are you guys seriously gonna fuck in my car?"

Oh. Right, there's another person here. Hyunjin slowly pulls away from you. The lack of kissing has you chasing his lips, blindly following the sensation.

Han whines in the crook of your neck, sparing a look at Minho who looks both irritated and aroused.

"But Minhooo..." Jisung pouts. "She's so pretty."

"So pretty," Hyunjin parrots.

"And we weren't very nice to her at first. This is us making it up! This is the least we owe her, don't you think?" Jisung must have Minho under some type of spell because his features soften. There's a brief moment of silence that's nearly deafening. The attention shifts from Minho to you, and you can hardly stand the tension.

"I...I want to."

"Oh, you do?" Minho doesn't sound too friendly. "Alright then. Go ahead." He twists his body so it's fully facing you and the other men. You hear Hyunjin groan and Jisung giggle. They waste no time in getting back to their original position, though Jisung seems eager to spread your legs wide this time.

The feeling of two hot mouths lands on both sides of your neck. You gasp, fists gripping their pants.

You lock eyes with Minho to see a smirk on his lips. "You're...you're just gonna watch?"

Minho's smile widens, "Why? Is two not enough for you?"

Hyunjin laughs against your skin while you blush. "That's not what I meant," you whimper when Jisung bites down on your flesh. "I just...I don't want you to-"

"He's a big boy, angel," Hyunjin picks up his head from your neck. "If he wants to watch, he can watch you cum on my dick, okay?" You turn redder, hand coming up to cover your bashful expression.

It's a good thing you've got something covering your mouth because Jisung has managed to infiltrate your underwear amidst the conversation. He massages your cunt through the material in slow circles. You hum and widen your legs while Hyunjin helps to hike the dress up to your waist.

"No, she’s gonna cum on me first!” Jisung pouts. “I wanna be the first one.” To drive his point home, Jisung moves your underwear to the side. He spreads your lips to show the arousal collecting somewhat proudly. “I did this! It’s not fair that Hyunjin calls the shots when I’m the one who got her wet! And I was the only one nice to her!”

Ah, that’s true. Even if Han’s throwing a bit of a tantrum, you can’t help but find it somewhat cute. The points he makes are valid, and if he wasn’t as welcoming as he was in the beginning, you would probably be doing something very different than what you are now.

Though Han’s directing his whining at the others, you nod. “I…I don’t mind if Jisung goes first.” Your words quiet the car before Jisung looks at you with an endearing smile. “Really?!” He claps when you nod.

“See!” He looks at Hyunjin. “You don’t get to get everything just ‘cause you’re handsome.”

You giggle as Jisung grabs you by the waist to hover you a few inches off the seat. He slides underneath your ass and wiggles his pants down, using a hand to free his cock. Hyunjin still keeps the dress at your waist so you’re able to see Jisung spring-free when you look down.

It’s a lot thicker than you thought. It flushes a deep color while the head of his cock is even darker. A few small veins trail along his length, but one along the sides has you already lowering yourself down in anticipation.

“Whatever. You’re just opening her up for me,” Hyunjin grumbles.

His words are lost to you and Jisung as he taps his tip on the front of your pussy. Jisung swivels his hips so he’s able to smear his pre-cum over your cunt. You match his movements, grinding back and forth so your clit can catch his flared tip. It’s hard to steady yourself while wearing heels, so you find leverage by hanging onto the headrests of the front seats where Minho sits.

“Can’t forget about these,” Minho hums to himself as he reaches for your corset. He loosens the top part of your dress before spilling your breasts out, cupping and groping them. He flicks your nipples in an attempt to get them to harden. With his thumb and forefinger, he pinches the buds until you squeal.

Hyunjin can’t contain himself anymore. He watches as Jisung gets to rub his dick all over your pretty cunt and as Minho plays with your tits. Finding a solution, Hyunjin bunches the material of your dress in one hand behind your back so a newly free hand can finally touch you somewhere. And that somewhere is your cunt.

“Don’t you want Jisung in your pussy already? Hm?” You feel Hyunjin slide his long fingers to Han’s cock so he can push it up. The tip slightly breaches your entrance, but there’s not enough force for it to go in all the way. Still, you can feel the warmth of it, of all of them. Minho’s soft yet ruthless hands twisting your nipples until they blossom with pink; Han’s hot dick sliding across your pussy; and Hyunjin’s warm fingers guiding the cock where it should go.

You nod, though you aren’t sure if he can tell.

Hyunjin grabs the base of Han’s cock and angles it to your cunt. “So wet already, it should slide in real good.” He tugs the back of your dress as a sign to lower yourself. Hyunjin is careful to make sure Han’s cock stays perfectly aligned with your hole despite how much he’s moving. Your lower lips spread as the head of his cock breaches your entrance, a whine leaving you. Inch by inch, you take Han’s length inside of you, thighs burning as you slowly make your descent.

Minho’s hands travel from your chest to your shoulders, helping you fully settle on Han’s cock. “Shit, look at that,” he laughs breathlessly. “Pussy opens so good for him.” You whine at Minho’s praise, finding the motivation to finally sink fully into his cock with a moan.

“Gotta fuck you,” Jisung whimpers from behind. His hands find the curve of your hips before he thrusts upwards. You squeal at his intrusion, thighs shaking. “J-Jisung! Can’t- I can’t- Just wait let me-” But he doesn’t wait and a bigger part of you is glad. You can feel his thighs slapping against the bottom of yours, how he’s whining just behind your ear with soft apologies.

“So, so good. Pussy so good to me, baby. I- fuck- ‘m sorry. I’ll be slower next time, mkay? I promise.” Jisung opts to wrap his arms around your middle torso to properly fuck up into you. Your tits bounce at his harsh thrusts and Minho doesn’t hesitate to get back to work on them. He takes hold of your nipples and pulls, watching your back arch forward. The whimper that leaves your mouth is heavenly, and Hyunjin can’t help but grow restless.

The taller man moves his hand to rub on your clit, moving the flesh in wide circles. Your jaw drops and you tilt your head to look at Hyunjin, eyes glazed with tears and arousal from the overstimulation. He gives you a dazzling smile, “You should see how you look, angel. Gettin’ all worked up over one dick. It’s so cute.”

Your styled hair must be a mess from the way Jisung keeps pounding into you. Your dress is wrinkled and damn near disheveled at the top because of Minho’s persistent groping. And you’re sure the expensive makeup can only last so long. So to hear Hyunin call you cute seems like it should be impossible, but the look on his face screams authenticity. You mean to thank him, to say anything that could describe how grateful you are for all of them making your night, but the moment you open your mouth, it’s moans and cries that sound instead.

“Fuck! Her pussy,” Jisung groans. “Gonna make me cum. I can cum in you, right? Can I?” The desperation in his voice makes you want to agree, but it’s Minho who answers him. “You get to fuck her first and cum in her? That hardly sounds fair.” Even though you can see the smirk on Minho’s lips, Jisung cries out as if he’s been wounded. His embrace around you tightens and his thrusts grow sloppy. Despite that, your cunt hugs his cock eagerly, begging for his cum. The walls of your pussy feel stretched and used, but you can feel your womb aching to be filled.

“Want it…” you moan. “All of it. I want all of it.”

It’s as if you’re Jisung’s savior. He can’t help but laugh, looking at his hyungs with triumph. “Heard that? You heard that, right?” He kisses the exposed part of your neck tenderly. “Thank you, baby, thank you. Imma fill you up nice and full. Gonna be leaking with my cum for weeks.”

“Gross,” you hear Hyunjin grimace. There’s not a chance to glance at him before Jisung bucks up into you with fervor. You gasp, leaning forward towards Minho so Jisung can have full access to your pussy. It’s wet, it’s lewd, and Hyunjin only makes the sounds louder as his fingers flick back and forth against your nub.

You’re reminded of how tired your legs are in this position, but that thought is distracted by a warm mouth enveloping your breast. You look down to see Minho peering up at you through his lashes, your nipple between his teeth. He gently bites before sucking it back into his mouth, letting his tongue graze the bud repeatedly. He hallows his mouth to make a powerful suction and leans his head back, taking your tit with him.

It’s no shock when you cum, but it is sudden. You’re not sure which action made you finally tip over, but Jisung can feel the gushing of your cunt and the squeezing of your walls on his cock. Hyunjin can feel how much wetter your clit has gotten, how it twitches in his hold. Minho only giggles when your entire body vibrates, tits jiggling in his mouth.

Han whines, “Is she cumming? I can feel her pussy creaming all over my cock. Shit, feels so good baby. Gonna make me cum.”

“Mhm,” Hyunjin looks at your wrecked state that barely manages to keep you upright. “She’s cumming all right. Don’t think she can take much more, Ji. Hurry up or she’ll pass out on my turn.”

The thought of having Hyunjin fuck you makes you clench on Jisung’s cock. It seems like he appreciates this, moaning before spilling hot cum into your pussy. It floods your cunt in streaks, finding a place deep in your womb. Your knuckles turn white from the grip you have on the headrests, teeth digging into your lower lip just to keep yourself from being too loud. Jisung groans and rests his forehead on your back, giving you tired thrusts to ride out his high.

“God- fuck! You put a spell on this pussy or something? Squeezing me so tight like it doesn’t wanna let me go.” Jisung struggles to pull himself out of you. He adjusts his hands back to your hips so he can lift you, slowly dragging his cock against your walls. You moan at the feeling of him sliding out. It’s cautious and slow, a good alternative from how roughly he was fucking you. The two of you let out a loud whine when he’s fully out.

“About time,” Hyunjin pushes Jisung out of the way. Jisung frowns, “Hey! That’s not very nice.”

Hyunjin laughs, shaking his head as he adjusts himself to how Jisung was. “Shut up. Just hold her dress up.” With grumbles, the younger man listens and bunches your wedding dress in his fists. Hyunjin slides the tip of the cock on your pussy, sending overstimulating shocks throughout your body.

“Make it fast,” Minho directs his attention to Hyunjin. “We’ve overstayed.” Hyunjin nods, but not without a few mumbles under his breath before sinking himself inside of you.

You’re not sure what you were expecting, but it wasn’t this. Han’s cock wasn’t the longest, but it hardly lacked the thickness to stretch you out. With Han, it felt like you were being lolled around, but with Hyunjin, you can’t help but still. His cock goes deep, a never-ending feeling of being probed. You throw your head back, uncaring for how loud your moan is. Hyunjin shivers under you, hands shaky as he quickly finds a pace to fuck into you.

Minho has a front-seat view. It’s an understatement to say he’s amazed at how well you’re taking Hyunjin. Your cunt flutters open perfectly for him, clit swollen from being rubbed. Minho watches the inches upon inches being slammed into you before being pulled out. You can’t blame him when you see him sneak a hand to undo his jeans before pulling his cock out.

“Shit! Can’t believe you got to fuck this pussy first,” Hyunjn moans out to Jisung. “Still so tight.”

Jisung is wiggling in his seat despite already cumming, Like Minho, he’s slowly stroking his soft cock at the sight. “Mhm. Tight little pussy. He’s fucking you real good, huh?” He doesn’t expect you to answer, you’re too busy trying not to scream at the bruising pace Hyunjin’s set. If you thought Jisung was rough, then Hyunjin is brutal.

“T-too much!” You yelp when Hyunjin finds a certain spot in your cunt. He feels your walls clench so violently that Jisung’s cum leaks onto his cock. “N-not there,” you whimper. “Can’t take it.”

“But it feels so good there,” Hyunjin retaliates. For once, his hips slow to purposely drag his cock across that spot. You squirm and hiccup in his hold, squealing at how overwhelmingly blissful it feels. Jisung wipes the corner of your mouth, collecting the drool that’s begun to seep through your lips before popping it in his mouth to suck.

Hyunjin drives his cock deep inside, “You feel that?” He pulls a few inches out and grinds in again. “That’s where I’mma put all my cum. Right in here.” You shiver at his words, nodding mindlessly. He smiles at your pliant state though you can’t see. “Good girl.”

“And you called me gross,” Jisung rolls his eyes, thumb still in his mouth as he watches Hyunjin desperately get himself to cum inside you. His words are hardly noticed though amongst the sound of skin and moans. All you can focus on is how close Hyunjin can bring you in such a short amount of time. He’s focused on fucking you right and you can feel how hot his body is. He brings you back down on his cock with such vigor that your entire body jiggles at the force. Minho’s eyes switch between your cunt swallowing Hyunjin’s cock to your breasts. You wish you could reach over and replace his hand with your own, but Hyunjin has a strong hold on your body for his own use.

His cock twitches in your pussy and he groans. Hyunjin’s hips have started to falter, but you’re hardly upset about it. Your cunt feels beyond abused, leaking with Jisung’s cum every time Hyunjin fucks into you. The familiar feeling of euphoria builds in your stomach and you feel it grow with every powerful thrust. You’re so caught up in the sensation of your approaching orgasm that you almost miss Hyunjin announcing his own high.

“Oh, angel. I’mma cum in you. You want my cum, yeah? Say it. Fuck. Say how much you want it.”

Hyunjin expecting you to talk despite pounding himself into you is comical, but you manage to squeak out small words. “So bad. I need it, Hyunnie. I- I wanna feel it inside me, please.” Your babbling is more than enough for Hyunjin to unload. He shivers and stills his hips flush against your ass, letting his cock pump you full of cum.

You can feel his tip pressing against your cervix. His cock is rubbing against your gummy spot so perfectly that you cum seconds after him. Hyunjun moans at the feel of your walls clamping down on him.

When he slips out of you, your thighs fold until you collapse on his lap wetly. Your legs tremble both from exertion and the pleasure coursing through your body. You rest your head on the middle console, wrapping your arms around your torso in an attempt to stop yourself from shaking. Hyunjin soothingly runs his hands up and down your back, cooing at how well you did with Jisung chiming in with compliments.

It takes you a moment to recognize the wet sound of Minho stroking himself. You tiredly pick your head up just in time with his orgasm. Minho’s cum shoots so far that a few strings of cum land on your face. You blink and flinch at the warm substance, automatically using your tongue to swipe off the gooey liquid.

“Oops,” you can see Minho trying his best not to laugh. “Uhh…let’s take you to Chan’s now.”

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hanafubukki · 10 months ago

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Happy Birthday Malleus Draconia 💚💕

Summary: You kidnap Malleus Draconia.

Sebek knew it would be a tiring day when he saw a letter placed on his wardrobe table.

It had decorative little crocodiles and squirrels all over with his name written in your writing.

He could already feel a headache incoming.

He’ll wonder how you snuck into his room to place said letter later, he was more interested in the message you had to say.

“Dear Knight,

Your Lord has been kidnapped. He is mine for the day.

Mwah~

YN”

Sebek rushed out of his room, running to the Diasomnia waiting room where his lord would sit and enjoy tea at this time.

…only to be met with a giggling Lilia and a napping Silver.

“YN!”

“Did you have to tease Sebek?”

“It’s all in good fun Tsunotaro.”

“I see.”

While Malleus ponders your answer, you plopped down right next to him on the couch.

“What does this…kidnapping entail?”

You could tell Malleus was humoring you. He found this whole situation funny and yet intriguing.

“For you? Just sit there look pretty and enjoy all the snacks, games, and movies I have.”

Malleus laughed lowly, “YN, I do have duties to fulfill. I can’t just sit here.”

You shrugged, “One day without work won’t bring down your dorm. Besides, all work and no play make dragons go cranky.”

Malleus laughed freely and you joined him this time, “Is that so? Then I shall join in this activity with you.”

You laid the nearby comforter over you and Malleus before starting your T.V.

It would be a good day; you would make sure of it.

“This warrior does not speak?”

“Kind of. He talks he’s just not voice acted, but he does make sounds when you attack with him.”

“Interesting. A silent and courageous warrior who will save his kingdom and the princess.”

“Reminds you of someone?”

“This Link reminds me of Silver. They share many similar qualities.”

You joked, “Are you the princess then?”

“I am a prince, am I not?” Malleus replied, before softly continuing, “and Silver has saved me, from myself.”

You bumped your shoulder with his, “That’s love for you.”

“Yes, it is.”

“That crocodile and that pirate…”

“Funny, isn’t it?”

“Yes, especially as Kingscholar dressed as one during Halloween.”

“Does the crocodile remind you of Sebek?”

The glint in Malleus' eyes answered your question.

You can only imagine Sebek's reaction if he knew, “Well with the way Sebek is always barking at Leona, I can't blame you for thinking it.”

Ah, you were going to hold this over Sebek's head forever.

“Those fairies should have never been given the child.”

“Yeah…”

“They haven’t properly fed her, even Lilia knew to feed a baby!”

“Yeah.”

“She almost fell off the cliff!”

“I know. They suck.”

You tugged at Malleus’ hair, “At least she had someone to take care of her, two of them in fact.”

Malleus calmed down knowing exactly to whom you referred, “Yes, those days were filled with laughter and warmth even amidst the chaos. How…nostalgic.”

Malleus leaned towards you; a mischievous glint in his eyes, it reminded you of a certain pink-streaked fae, “Want to hear an embarrassing story grandmother told me about Lilia?”

“Yes! I’m all ears!”

You watched as Tsunotaro enjoyed Toothless and Hiccup's adventures.

You knew he would like this series.

You wondered how Sam had the trilogy.

…you would question him thoroughly later.

You were content to watch Tsunotaro be happy.

His family is never far from his thoughts as he is never far from theirs.

You felt happy to be part of his family.

“YN, is there a reason to why we are making cupcakes this late at night?”

He didn’t know.

You hid your smile as you put the tray of goodies into the oven.

Malleus must have enjoyed his day if he forgot why tonight would be special.

“Anytime is a good time for cupcakes, just like how you can have ice cream even during winter.”

“I thought it was easier for human’s teeth to decay due to late night sugary treats?”

“We’ll be fine! Just make sure to brush your teeth and don’t tell Trey -senpai.”

You went over to the nearby drawer. The confetti poppers were there as planned, just a few more minutes before the time came, so you snuck them into your pocket discreetly.

“Let’s go play more Zelda.”

You and Malleus moved towards the lounge; you eyed the hallway clock on the way.

Less than a minute.

You took out the poppers from your pocket.

“Malleus?”

“Yes?”

You pulled the poppers out just as he entered the ramshackle lounge.

3…2…1

“Happy Birthday (Lord) Malleus!”

Malleus was shocked as confetti rained on him from all sides.

Lilia, Silver, Sebek, and you surrounded him as the day turned over.

His surprised face broke into a wide smile before an unrestrained joyous laughter filled the lounge.

What a beautiful start to today.

The day Malleus Draconia was born.

A day filled with endless love.

Happy Birthday Malleus.

Resounded affectionately in all the hearts of everyone present.

May you always be filled with happiness and love.

Bonus:

Silver came to you as you watch Lilia bear hug Malleus. It was funny how someone so petite wrapped all four limbs on someone so tall.

Silver hesitated.

You knew.

“He baked a cake, didn’t he?”

Silver sighed, “Yes. We tried to stop him.”

You laughed and shook your head.

“It’s okay. Toxic waste it might be, but it is something Lilia made with him in mind. Malleus will love it nonetheless.”

You bumped shoulders with Silver, whispering, “We made cupcakes.”

Silver’s grateful smile had you hugging him.

No one will get food poisoning today, not on your watch.

You hoped.

☺️🌺🌸💚

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igbylicious · 3 months ago

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DOM / SUB ATEEZ HARD THOUGHTS

@wooyoungisbaby Isak asked abt dom / sub thoughts for the guys, and my rambling got out of hand. as it always does lol. self-control? we don’t know her

(ik you suggested to do this for the whiway au but! then i wouldn’t be able to talk abt sub Yunho :( & i can’t not talk abt sub Yunho :((( so these are just general thoughts abt the guys hehe~ ฅV●ᴥ●Vฅ)

sooooooo i am a huge switch-teez enthusiast; and this is essentially a bullet-point dissertation w/ a selection of d/s thoughts for each of the guys that make me go particularly 👀 they’re not meant to be speculation abt the guys’ preferences, just things that are very easy for me to imagine & that i think would be very very hot of them (｡◝‿◜｡)

warnings: dom / sub themes obv. also mentions of; penetrative sex, overstimulation, oral, ass eating, mommy kink, lingerie (on Hwa), riding crop, strap-on, DP in unspecified holes, dacryphilia, shibari / bondage, premature ejaculation, hair-pulling, drooling, sadism, corruption kink, brat taming, sugar daddy vibes, jewelry on reader, hand kink, implied choking, fingering (again unspecified holes), edging, puppy play, role play (including cnc for Yunho but no in-depth details), cockwarming, marking / bruises, blindfolds, pain kink, praise kink, dry humping, degradation kink, orgasm denial, dirty talk, biting, hair pulling, face sitting

a/n: gender neutral reader. genitalia are mentioned once w/ options. implied double anal penetration in absence of a puss, implied pegging in absence of a cock. there is a brief mention that reader could wear heels if they wanted for a scenario.

also my Yunho bias shows hard x_x i tried to keep the lengths under control but i just let myself go for his and i shall not apologise for it asdskjdasjk

⩥ SEONGHWA

Dom:

whether he is soft & gentle or hard & mean, Seonghwa is always elegant

even with sweat dripping off his nose from the exertion of fucking into you, even with his lower face covered in slick from eating pussy or cum dribbling down his chin from sucking dick, he is the most graceful dom to ever walk this earth

his long tongue is a blessing but his technique and dedication are divinity

you WILL get overstimulated

yes i have the mommy Seonghwa brainrot. yes i like imagining him in lingerie and a corset and make-up and heels while he’s in utter and complete control

to finish the look; riding crop??? riding crop.

also idk why but the thought of Hwa with a strap-on makes me so fucking dizzy. this man fucking you w/ two cocks at once

his strap would be so sleek and elegant too just like him

matches his favourite lingerie probably; Hwa is dedicated to the aesthetics

speaking of aesthetics; shibari (that’s it that’s the tweet)

saccharine sweet if you earn it

Sub:

fucking pathetic sloppy mess as a sub

listen i just really love the hc that Seonghwa is super sensitive and might cum prematurely asdskjasdjkdaskj

will prob cum from just being manhandled into giving head if he can get even just a lil friction going somewhere 👀 as a sub he likes to get sloppy, loves having his hair pulled

(ass, cock or pussy, this man gets drunk on it)

like if you want to do a long scene together; it’s so easy to just get a quick orgasm out of him and then have a real fucking hyper-sensitive Seonghwa at your disposal for the remainder of the night uwu

tie him up for maximum effect

cries so easily 🥺

can’t hide a thing, every ounce of pleasure shows on his face like an open book

hiccups and sobs and bite-swollen lips bc he keeps gnawing at his bottom lip, so so easily overwhelmed

…again; lingerie. put him in thigh-highs and knead at the soft flesh and cover those thighs all over w/ bites and hickeys

⩥ HONGJOONG

Dom:

listen…………we all know that grin………………………………………

what kind of world do we live in if our captain is not at least a tiny bit of a sadist??

lives to hear you beg

degradation as praise? praise as degradation? the line between being praised and being demeaned is soooo fucking razor-thin w/ this man

100% on purpose he likes it when you can’t tell for sure

(tho he is super cognisant of your state of mind. if he sees the doubt is genuinely getting to you, you’re getting a dose of pure unmistakable praise to settle you down)

he’ll happily tame a brat but he looooves ruining a sub who is already pliant for him. just to be mean.

i’m all aboard the Hongjoong corruption kink agenda

not even necessarily in a ‘you are inexperienced’ way (tho he can work w/ that 👀)

but watching you go from all immaculate and put-together to a depraved begging mess

yep

that does it for him

likes giving you jewelry to wear during sex. delicate body-chains and pretty necklaces that bounce when he fucks you. lowkey sugar daddy vibes; he loves seeing you decked out, but he esp loves seeing you decked out in things he bought you

Sub:

so while i love the image of Hongjoong offering himself up on a silver platter to you w/ a crooked grin; tbh i feel like he has potential to be a sub who outbrats even Wooyoung if he is In A Mood

the SASS on this man!!!

but once you break that snarky attitude? dear god the whines coming out of him ♨_♨

(listen do not be surprised if i use some variation of the word ‘whiny’ in every single sub section bc i know what i like and i am shameless abt it asdkjasdj)

noisy squirmy boi

on his elbows and knees, biting at the sheets as he gets fucked hard from behind, going slack-jawed and drooling on the bed as you wreck him into a stupor

fucked into complete physical exhaustion in the direct aftermath — but let him have a quick nap and his energy is like… he might still be tired but he’s also feeling so replenished? esp mentally

if he’s recently had a lot of on his mind then you might be treated to deep philosophical musings during the aftercare abt the world, the universe, life and everything

⩥ YUNHO

Dom:

i get pulled so hard into two directions w/ this man pls it’s not funny anymore i need HELP

he’s both the softest vanilla and the hardest freakiest dom out of the bunch to me, he's got my brain spinning

listen yall we all know how willingly Yunho indulges the fandom’s massive hard-on for his hands, imagine what he’ll do if he’s your partner ♨_♨

he gets off on how much you get off on having his hands around your neck

also unless i hallucinated that whole thing; Yunho has said he likes hearing atiny whine his name (sir?!?!?!?) so I'm gonna say he's a tease even when he's soft with you

takes you to the brink with those long fingers over and over again, pretends the edging is by accident

presses sweet kisses on your forehead or your tummy or your thighs as he laughs softly at your whining but points out he needs to get you prepped first for what he's packing; he just doesn't want to hurt you uwu

whether it is sincere sweetness or w/ an edge of mocking, depends entirely on his mood

(fake sweet Yunho my beloved ;;)

you're not fooled by his shenanigans but there's little you can do except gasp and squirm under him as his fingers press against your sweet spot again

still he’ll praise you every step of the way, and the payoff is more than worth it, he always makes sure of that

ok so the next thing isn’t really a dom / sub thing but it’s going somewhere that is, pls hear me out;

Yunho is totally up for some playful rp; he’ll do cheesy porn set-ups w/ you except he cannot keep a straight face through them to save his life lol. very lighthearted silly giggly sex that still makes your toes curl

he can keep a straight face through a very different type of role play; cnc

it’s not uncommon for Yunho to try and make you laugh during sex if a moment presents itself — but here he fully sinks into the role and there won’t be any light-heartedness until the aftercare,

and then you’ll be giggling twice as much as usual, once the timing is right ;;

the aftercare giggles are for Yunho’s benefit too; he needs to make and see you smile & laugh to feel like he’s fully come back into himself. to regain the right emotional equilibrium after taking on such an intense role

then he’s your sweet smiley golden retriever again ;;

might just fuck you again if you both have the energy, sweet and soft and slow this time ♡

Sub:

OKAY SO FIRST THINGS FIRST i gotta bring up that video in which Seonghwa and Wooyoung wear heels for a shoot and they joke around abt their heights — but then Yunho turns to the camera and whispers he’d like to be small; bc he’d be cute!!!

he’s always been pocket-sized in spirit to me so that had me by the throat asdkjasdkjd

so yeah i like to think he enjoys feeling small as a sub! not in a demeaning way, not even in a physical way necessarily!

(tho to be down on his knees in front of a dom who is either pretty tall or wearing heels (or both) does make him feel fantastically fuzzy)

no, it’s more like a cute lil pup who’s getting spoiled bc he’s a good boy uwu

(actual petplay optional~ ฅV●ᴥ●Vฅ)

love a sub Yunho who’s soft and well-behaved

and he wants to be! he wants to be a good boy and get pampered by his dom!! but sometimes his big golden retriever energy gets the better of him oop

(the video clip of a literal child scolding Yunho because “this hyung just won’t listen to me” lives in my head rent-free.)

and Yunho just can't always fight his brain when it sends him a fun impulse askdjdaskjsd

but it only takes gentle steering to get him back on track; like i said, he wants to be well-behaved for you 🥺

ok but to circle back to the puppy play

Yunho who loves being your good boy and is so playful and sweet — but he obediently lets you take your time to work him up and get him desperate

big brown eyes shimmering at you as you scratch him behind the ears while stroking his big hard cock

begging you to let him fuck you, to just let him inside you

so you sit in his lap and cockwarm him but you can tell it’s not enough, gets teary-eyed and he bites his lip to stop himself from whining bc you’re already giving him so much and he wants to be good

so you have mercy on him and let him fuck you from behind — if he makes you cum first

now there’s a demand Yunho can work with

usually he’s a hands-on guy but in puppy mode he prefers using his mouth and tongue. so he’s snugly between your thighs, getting himself messy. constant eye-contact as he peeks up at you, massaging your thighs and maybe even leaving a bite if he’s feeling cheeky — but he knows better than to tease too much

he is so far gone by the time he’s finally allowed to fuck you that he can’t do anything but mindlessly rut until he cums hard, gasping and shaking

still he makes sure not to collapse on top of you, instead slides off to the side and pulls you into his arms for a snuggle 🥺

(see Isak i wasn’t kidding abt whipping up a 1k essay just for Yunho alone! lol oop)

⩥ YEOSANG

Dom:

so tbh it’s much easier for me to picture Yeosang as a sub, but i do have this very specific idea for him that i can’t get out of my head of like

curiosity-driven dom Yeosang

maybe he was a lil shy at first, cautiously exploring your body and testing your reactions, but his eyes just lit up with intrigue when you let out a loud moan he didn't expect

that moment kick-starts it all, with him becoming bolder and bolder to seek out any other responses to his touch

do you moan when he kisses you here? do you gasp at a bite there? squirm when he pinches here?

and he never grows satisfied as he maps out your responses to pleasure — and pain, if you are so inclined

Yeosang stumbles into the whole pain play thing purely by accident but it’s barely even abt the sadism for him? if that makes sense?? it’s all about you and your arousal and the wide range of pleasure he can draw from you

he just wants to know

there’s always this sense of wonder abt him and his sparkling eyes when he’s playing w/ you

he probably gets even more experimental as time passes, actively on the look-out for new things he can try out

you’ll just be having a quiet evening and Yeosang comes up to you w/ that adorable small smile that on a surface level is full of innocence

but no he’s cutely excited to show you some obscure toy he found online and wants to know if you’re onboard ^^

Sub:

so vocal (っ˘ڡ˘ς)

shy but has a reeeaaaally hard time holding himself back if he’s overwhelmed

seriously so so noisy w/ lil whimpers and moans and quiet hitches of his breath. takes a bit for him to truly get loud, but dear god you’re still treated to a goddamn symphonic masterpiece of delectable noises

speaking of getting him loud 👀

if Yeosang trusts you but there’s some last remnant of shyness that he needs to shake off

he loves getting blindfolded

not seeing anything makes it easier for him to get lost in the pleasure; if nothing else exists in the world except you and your touch, he has nothing to be self-conscious of

that’s where he can get loud

can’t sit or lay still if you’re worshiping that gorgeous body or giving head; you’re gonna have to hold him down to stop his fidgety squirming uwu

gets flushed easily too

bruises like a peach and tho he gets shy abt marks in visible places, he lowkey loves it when you treat his chest like a blank canvas

pls gently brush his hair back & give his birth mark a lil peck during the aftercare okay? 🥺

⩥ SAN

Dom:

is it cheeky to say “just read whichever way”? it is?? okay alright lol

no but okay this man is dripping w/ care & devotion i want him SIMPING!!!

he LIVES for the praise and the validation, all it takes is a lil bit of encouragement and positive enforcement; and he may be the dom but you’ve still got him wrapped around your finger

while he can be the softest of soft service doms, it doesn’t take much to get San a lil rougher w/ you; he gets amped up easily and loves using his strength to your advantage

but you want him to be a mean dom? you can get him there but you’ll have to WORK for it by riling him the fuck up w/ some attitude bc this man’s natural instincts are to just please you all through the night (´︶｀)

San also loves to surprise-pin you against the wall. there’s just smth abt the spontaneity and passion of the moment that gets him going hard

depending on his mood he could either fuck you right then and there, or ravish you only to pull away w/ a smug, self-satisfied grin at how wrecked you are from just making out and a bit of dry-humping

(he’ll be back. San is too horned up to not finish the job)

Sub:

MAKE! HIM!! WHIMPER!!! AND CRY!!!!!!!

no but seriously a flushed Sannie pouting up at you when you deny him again 🥺

just the thought of him as like

a very very soft sub who yearns to get fucking wrecked by you 🥺

make him whine and writhe until he can’t handle it anymore and tears begin to streak down his cheeks

body worship melts this man into a fucking puddle and yes i am also talking abt tittie appreciation here

he always wants to be so strong and reliable for others but here in your care is where he can let all of that go 🥺 and just break down until you put him together again 🥺

SO MUCH CUDDLING IN THE AFTERCARE

YOU COULDN’T GET OUT OF HIS ARMS IF YOU TRIED

PLS DON’T TRY; JUST LOVINGLY STROKE HIS HAIR AND WHISPER SWEET PRAISES AT HIM 🥺🥺🥺

⩥ MINGI

Dom:

okay so i also get pulled so hard into two very different directions when it comes to dom Mingi askjasdjkdsa

one is Mingi the needy mess

maybe he doesn’t even mean to dom you but he’s so desperate for it he just can’t wait and ends up overwhelming you and it’s lowkey kinda clumsy but very sweet and oh god he just wants you so so bad 🥺

BUT THEN THERE IS

Mingi w/ his damn cocky on-stage energy?? and he’s intense and confident and knows what he wants??? (you, ruined)

like idk either way i have many feelings abt dom Mingi being super intense and he will overwhelm you either way, either by accident or by design

just strap in tight bc he wants to hear you ♨_♨

very vocal himself too. i like the thought of him spewing filth at you first but very quickly losing the capacity for any coherent dirty talk

still

you will hear him too OOF

high & whiny or low & raspy? y e s

Sub:

PRINCESS MINGIIIIIII!!!! (♡°▽°♡)

spoil him give him whatever the hell his heart desires!!!!!! again a NOISY MESS!!! tears up easily but doesn’t like to admit he’s crying uwu

gets even more discombobulated than as a dom hehe~

however

much like his buddy Yunho, i don't think Mingi often deliberately tries to misbehave

but he can get a bit sulky sometimes if he feels neglected

or, on the other side of the spectrum, just a touch too confident if he’s gotten too used to you giving him exactly what he wants and starts treating it as a given, or makes lil jokes abt it

it edges against that cockiness again but tbh it’s also lowkey endearing on him as a sub; his blind faith in your devotion to his pleasure

but you may choose to give him a lil reminder of who is actually in charge ♡ denying him a few times until he’s whining and babbling incoherently at you should do the trick perfectly ♡♡♡

don’t be too mean abt it tho :( remember he’s a princess :(((

⩥ WOOYOUNG

Dom:

OKAY SO YES ISAK I’M FULLY W/ YOU ON THE BRAT THING

like i said truly my favourite flavour of dom Wooyoung is a fucking tease of a menace who isn’t so much a dom as a brat who hasn’t been tamed yet

if he’s domming you and you’re in the mood to turn the tables? this man’s switch is flipped in an INSTANT you just gotta yank his hair hard and spew out some filthy degradation and he’s putty in your hands

brace yourself if he’s got you tied up tho lol. he is gonna enjoy himself :3

honestly he should change his home-address bc this man lives w/ his face between your thighs. gets so fucking drunk on you but never so much that he ever stops his teasing

a true edging enthusiast

hope you like bite-marks on your skin lol

and yet…

and yet i have a big soft spot for soft dom Woo too 🥺

who takes care of you after you’ve had a long, frustrating day 🥺

i feel like he could bigtime spoil and pamper his partners if he feels they really need it 🥺 he might still tease you a lil but it’s only to get you out of your head, maybe even just to make you laugh 🥺

Sub:

love a sub Wooyoung who balances a praise and a degradation kink like he’s walking a tightrope uwu

like we all talk abt his degradation kink bc of course we do!! with good reason!!! but have you seen his giggles and smiles when the other members compliment him???

sometimes he doesn’t even know himself what he’s in the mood for today — or so he tells himself. any bratty urges will make themselves known real damn obvious within mere seconds lol

instigator to the max

initiates phone sex w/ you and then hangs up on you just before it Gets Good just to rile you up (this may be a semi-spoiler 👀)

but he loves the combo special where he brats out to his heart’s content first, gets humiliated and/or punished for his trouble, but oh boy then his mood turns and he eats it UP to get praised for being such a good boy now (´꒳`∗)

will beg you to ride his face

(he’ll have you riding his face as a dom too, he just won’t be begging 👀)

⩥ JONGHO

Dom:

so i actually love love love gentle soft dom Jongho 🥺 but i decided to focus on the flip side for this post

hard dom Jongho who has a mean streak and looooooves to tease the fuck out of you. he doesn’t even need to verbally degrade you (tho he might); you hear his cocky chuckle and know exactly what a pathetic mess he thinks you are for him

but gets soft and SUPER ADORABLE in the aftercare??? just imagine this man fucking you within an inch of your life and then he cleans you up after

and gives you that sweet gummy smile while he’s literally wiping his cum off your body w/ a warm cloth???

giggles when you exhaustedly call him a menace or praise him?????

god i just perished

he loves playing it nonchalant too tho. having you between his legs sucking him off, looking down at your teary eyes and swollen lips bobbing up and down his fat cock like he dgaf

don’t let him fool you — watch for how tightly his hands are clenched into fists

Sub:

just wanna spoil & baby him :( def feel Jongho has to be ‘in the mood’ to sub, but then pls just be so soft with him and take care of him and make him feel good :(

he’d generally be a very soft, well-behaved sub;

he feels that if subbing is the role he’s taking on, then submissiveness is the role he’s taking on, youknow it’s almost matter-of-factly for him

THAT BEING SAID; Jongho is still Jongho and won’t keep his mouth shut if he feels you’re doing or saying smth that deserves to be teased abt or made fun of ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

your response needs to be a lil calculated;

he doesn’t really enjoy being outright punished or treated as a brat too much. prob feels it’s undignified lol

…unless he’s already super far gone 👀

so the secret here is to pretend you’re letting his teasing slide — until he’s at the fucking brink and then he’ll accept you laying on a lil bit of punishment as payback 👀

he’s not super loud in bed but you’ll get the prettiest lil breathy gasps and moans out of him asjksdjkdsajkdajs

#igby’s writing #ateez x reader #ateez smut #ateez hard thoughts #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #hongjoong smut #seonghwa smut #yunho smut #yeosang smut #san smut #mingi smut #wooyoung smut #jongho smut #yunho x reader

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evie-sturns · 1 month ago

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confession - Chris Sturniolo

summary: when you show up at chris’s house completely drunk at 1am, the last thing he expects is for you to admit all your feelings for him.

contains: bestfriend!chris, drunk!reader, fluff, teasing.

——————————————————————————

12:54am

i definitely drank too much, the air around me seems to be spinning and my head is pounding, what better place to go then my bestfriend chris’s house? i’ve known him forever anyways, he shouldn’t mind.

i giggle to myself as i walk up the stairs to chris’s house, everything is funny at the moment, especially the little garden gnome he has right by his doorstep.

my minidress rides up my thighs, my hair is messy and in my eyes and i barely know where the fuck i am.

i twist the doorknob and open his front door, the whole house is dark except for a small light down the hallway.

i invite myself into his house, deciding to walk down the hallway to his room.

i trip over my feet a couple times before reaching his room.

i push open the door slowly to find chris, sat up against his headboard, the only light in his room being the screen of his phone, illuminating his features perfectly.

“y/n- how the fuck did you get in my house?” he speaks, his voice is filled with pure shock, i don’t blame him.

“oh- it was open.” i mumble, slurring my words with a small laugh at the end.

“you’re drunk? oh gosh.” he groans, standing up out of bed and jogging over to me.

his sweatpants are slung low around his hips, he’s shirtless, showing off his small happy trail.

“hey- did you know that my friend layla is pregnant!? how crazy is that.” i instantly start to yap,

he wraps his arm around my shoulder and guides me to his bed.

“and- and she’s like super pregnant aswell- who knew!” i shrug, flopping back onto chris’s matress.

“that’s crazyy” chris says, standing over me and inspecting me.

“i know right- and she didn’t even tell—“ i start but chris cuts me off.

“how much have you drank, seriously.” he asks, folding his arms over his chest.

“not a lot.” i lie,

“y/n..” he warns,

i instantly give in, “okay maybe a lot- but it’s okay cause it was a birthday party and you’re always meant to-“ i start but chris interrupts me again.

“do you feel like you might be sick hon?” he asks softly,

“no..” i mumble, manspreading on his bed.

he instantly walks over to me and subtly closes my legs,

“should we get you out of this tiny ass dress?” chris asks, tugging it down my thighs for a bit of modesty.

“yeah- i didn’t bring my sleepover bag though.” i say with a small pout,

chris laughs, “i wasn’t expecting you to bring your sleepover bag, wasn’t expecting ya in general!”

“sorry but it’s not my fault that i lost my phone so i couldn’t call an uber!” i whine

“you lost your phone?” he asks,

chris sorts through his closet to find me something to wear, before pulling out some sweatpants and one of his shirts.

“yeah but i’ll find it!” i grin widely,

chris walks over to me with the clothes he picked me out, “these look okay?” he asks,

“chrissuhhh! you know i don’t suit red!!” i groan, pulling the shirt he gave me out of his hands.

“do you want a different shirt?” chris says with a small laugh,

“no..” i mumble,

“let’s get you into these then,” he says, handing me the sweatpants

i stand up off the bed, before instantly tripping over into chris,

“oops- oh god.” he exclaims with a small smirk

“you want some help?” chris asks, his hands resting on my shoulders

“undress me chris.” i giggle with a wink,

chris shakes his head, “don’t eveeerr says that again.” he laughs.

“sorryyyy.” i smile, letting out a small hiccup from the alcohol

chris quickly tugs my dress up over my head, his eyes diverted to the side,

“i’m not looking- i swear..” he mutters,

he pulls the sweatpants up my hips,

“um- do you want to sleep in your bra or..” he whispers,

i shake my head, “take it off!” i say loudly with a exaggerated wink

he scoffs, wiping his eyes.

he unclasps it with ease, it drops to the floor and chris wastes no time pulling on the shirt.

“done.” he says proudly, kicking my dress to the side.

“let’s get you to bed.” he whispers, picking me up around my thighs and launching me onto his matress.

i squeal loudly, followed by a loud laugh.

“you have a lot of energy for somebody who’s been awake all night.” he grins, getting into bed beside me.

“wait! let me get back to my stories from the party-“ i start up again, chris rolls his eyes with a small smirk.

i tend to talk a LOT when i’m drunk, maybe even too much.

“okay so basically i was talking to uh- what’s her name? jen, i was talking to jen right and she’s just talking all this yap yap yap to me about her boyfriend being a bad boyfriend- and obviously i’m like single so i can’t relate to a word she’s saying but-“

i start, half of my words indistinguishable due to how slurred my speech is.

my mouth starts to move faster than my brain,

“so i told her, i was like- ‘babe i can’t relate’ and she was all like pissy at me! how crazy is that! she was like ‘not my fault that chris guy doesn’t want you’ that’s what she said!” i say with a small scoff,

chris nods, quite unsure of what i’m even saying.

“but- but i’m sure you want me chris.” i giggle,

“cause i really.. really want you and like i had a dream about you and it’s like apparently psychic shit if someone’s thinking about you they want you!” i exclaim,

“so if your thinking about me i’ll dream about you!” i finish,

“you really really want me?” chris says with a laugh,

i nod eagerly, completely unaware that i am talking too much, accidentally confessing.

“yeah- you’re so sexy! i wanted you for so loooong.” i giggle,

“funny joke sweetheart.” chris scoffs, pulling me to his side,

“it’s not even a joke anymore.” i laugh,

“want you ssooo bad, god i have for soo long chris” i say,

chris goes silent,

“you mean me? like you want me?” he says, sounding genuinely confused.

“yeah, i like you a lot!” i blurt out,

chris sits up to lock eyes with me,

“wait-“ i raise my voice, slamming a hand over my mouth as i realise what i’ve just said,

he looks down at me with raised eyebrows,

i shake my head as i keep the hand over my mouth, i bury my face into the pillow beside me,

“no- nonono- i wasn’t meant to say that!” i whine,

“shh,” chris says with a laugh, rubbing my shoulder.

“get some sleep sweetie, let’s talk in the morning, wake me up if you think you might vomit okay?” he says, laying down beside me.

i nod shakily, yawning.

i instantly pass out, my soft snores filling the room.

——

(The next morning)

i stir awake, my head pounding.

the warm sun seeps through the cracks in the curtains, shining directly into my eyes.

“you’re awake!” chris smiles, rubbing my back.

i sit up in bed, wiping my face.

“god i’m so hungover- how did i even get here what the fuck..” i mumbles,

“you showed up at a very late time.” he grins,

“one in the morning!” he follows up.

“oh god i’m so sorry.” i say with a croaky laugh.

i flop back down on the pillows, rolling over to face chris.

“you told me a secret last night.” chris says with a smirk,

my eyes widen, “what- what did i say.”

“i don’t think you meant it cause you were verryy drunk, but let me just tell ‘ya what you said.” chris grins,

“okay- okay fuck.” i groan,

“you said something along the lines of ‘chris i want you so bad you’re so sexy and that you’ve liked me for ages.” chris giggles, poking my sides.

my face goes red, “no i didn’t.”

“yes you definitely did.” he grins,

“oh god- i’m- i’m sorry-!” i groan, burying my face into the pillow,

“did you mean it?” he asks softly,

i pause,

i could just tell him i was drunk and wasn’t thinking straight- no.

“i might’ve meant it.” i whisper, “i didn’t mean to say that though.”

“yeah? you think i’m soo awesome.” he grins cheekily.

“yes, i like you a lot chris.” i whisper,

“you’re cute, y’know that?” chris smirks,

“god i can’t believe i confessed to you- not even while i was sober!” i scoff,

“at least you did.” he smiles,

the room goes silent.

i stare into chris’s eyes, my heart thumping

he grabs my chin, his thumb grazing over my lower lip.

“cmere.” he whispers,

chris sits up against the headboard,

i sit up aswell, crawling onto his lap.

i sit comfortably on his lap, my hands shaking nervously.

“don’t be nervous.” he whispers, his voice deep and hoarse now.

he keeps a firm grip on my chin,

he leans in?

i pause for a second, “i think i have morning breath.” i whisper

“you’re all good.” he grins,

chris presses his lips gently against mine.

oh my god.

i instantly deepen the kiss, my hand moving up to his jaw.

he keeps a hand on my ass,

he lets out a small groan into my lips, causing me to subconsciously rock my hips against him.

he pulls away softly, “can’t get too carried away.” he mutters, completely out of breath.

“sorry.” i grin,

“that was an unexpected way to start the morning.” i whisper,

he nods with a smirk, looking at me in awe.

he keeps his eyes fixed on my lips,

“i think it cured my hangover though.” i smile,

“you’re so pretty.” chris mutters, his eyes roaming over my face.

“i think i should get drunk more often and confess random shit to you, it seems to have a good outcome everytime.”

@sturnsdoll @obvisturns @stupid4sturniolo @meerkatzthings @witchofthehour @rosalierenee43 @gabrielle-brun1 @ilovemymannnnnnnn @sturnioloxlver @buckys-goodgirl @sturniol0s @ilovemymannnnnnnn @chr1sgirl4life @luanetaluenta @sturnsssbow @mattfangirl girl @luvr4miya @luvtay111 @lolasturniolo @freshloveforthefit @ruedowney @lovingchrissposts @333michelle @h3arts4harry @jamiesturniolo o @chrisstopherfilmed @ @daddyslilchickenfingers2 @ev3rgreenxtrees @certifiednatelover er @solarsturniolo lo @mattsenthusiast t @yomamaslays4lyfe @peachmels @alinaa131 @pepsiluvr0209 @creamoncreamoncream2 @szobofc @mattscoquette @blahbell668 @sturniolo04 @bitchydragonparadise @sturni0l0tripletzz @ratatioulle @sturnsfav @mattsonlybitch @justalittle47 @sunsetsturniolos

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stevie-petey · 1 month ago

Text

episode four: dear billy

“That’s-old!” Nancy digs through her closet, cheeks flushed with embarrassment. You walk over to the poster and nod appreciatively at it. “Hey, Tom Cruise is pretty. I don’t blame you.” “Hey!” Steve waves his hands in the air, offended and completely overwhelmed. You shrug at him. “You’re the one who wants me and Max to die, so I get to call an actor hot.”

Summary: steve almost hits lucas with a lamp, you try to trick your boyfriend into a gloomy arrangement, steve and nancy have a Talk, robin suddenly becomes an academic weapon, and max threatens legal action, gets really into hallmark cards, and levitating. all in that order.

Rating: general, some swearing

Warnings: swearing, fem!reader, use of y/n, slight suicidal thoughts if u squint

Words: 11.7k

Before you swing in: hey gang !!! im back, wrote this severely hungover, and ive never been more excited to share a chapter with yall. dear billy is my favorite ep from season 4, the ending haunts me, so i hope i can haunt yall too <333 enjoy !

–

Max won’t wake up.

Your fingers grip harshly on her shoulders as you shake her. Her eyes remain vacant. There isn’t any life within them. “Max, wake up, please.”

Dustin grabs your arm, he’s never seen you so broken. “Y/N, you have to tell us what’s going on.”

“It’s–” your eyes sting with tears. The metallic taste of blood fills your mouth. You think you’ve bitten your tongue. “I-I can’t.”

You’ve forgotten how to speak, how to say anything other than Max’s name as you plead with her to come back to you.

Steve’s hand finds your other arm. He’s trying to talk to you, telling you to steady your breathing. He tells you that you’re having a panic attack. He’s worried you’ll hurt Max or even yourself if you continue to thrash with blind fear.

“Y/N, angel, I need you to listen to me, alright?” Steve’s breath hits your face, but you refuse to let go of Max. “We can’t help her if you’re panicking–” Suddenly, after an agonizing minute, Max breaks out of her trance. The sound of her sharp inhale echoes off the office walls. Immediately she collapses into your arms, she’s crying and hiccuping uneven breaths.

“Y/N,” she shakes against you, you pull her even tighter into your chest. Her hands grab at your arms, your waist, anywhere they can reach. Almost as if she’s afraid you aren’t real. “Am I-am I awake?”

Your nose presses against her red hair, your arms tremble from how tightly you hold her. “You’re awake, this is real.”

Dustin kneels next to you and Max. His tone is gentle, his eyes fill with concern. “Why wouldn’t any of this be real?”

Max pulls her face away from your body, her eyes look up at you. She’s looking for the answers you don’t have. Her eyes are still frightened, wild with fear. Her body stands on edge. Her spine stiff, her skin cold. Placing a soft hand over hers, you answer for her. “She had a vision.”

Steve’s breathing stutters, Dustin lets out a quiet curse. Max slowly starts to remove herself from you, although her hand never leaves yours. She stands up, albeit with some difficulty, and she tries to wipe away her tears. “I don’t… I don’t know what to do.”

“That’s okay,” you murmur to her, easing her distress. You feel as if you’re talking to an injured animal. “Let’s start with telling us what you saw. Can you do that?”

Max jerks her head, nodding. With Steve’s help, she’s able to take uncertain steps out of the office. She quietly instructs him on where to guide her. He’s careful with her, he takes his time helping her. Dustin walks next to you, his own arm extended towards you to help, but you gently decline him.

At the end of the hallway, Max points her flashlight against the wall. “Here.”

“What was here?” Steve asks.

“A grandfather clock. It was ticking, over and over, but it,” her voice catches on fresh tears. “It isn’t here.”

Dustin looks at you, raising his eyebrows to silently ask you if you understand what Max is saying. You shake your head. There was nothing about a grandfather clock in the files you read, but it’s a detail that you can’t overlook. There has to be a reason she saw it.

Doors burst open behind you, disrupting the quiet of the night. You spin around in alarm, hand finding your knives, but you relax when you recognize the squeak of Robin’s sneakers and the click of Nancy’s heels.

“What’s going on?” Nancy takes in the scene before her. You’re all standing against the wall, flashlights illuminating it. Fresh tears stain your face and Max’s.

“Max, she…” Dustin sighs. He hates not having all the answers. There’s an unease that comes with not knowing. He’s spent his entire life trying to outrun it. “She saw something. A grandfather clock, I guess.”

“It was here. Right here,” Max insists, frustration in her voice.

Nancy tilts her head. “A grandfather clock?”

“It was so real.”

You step closer to Max, your hand finding her shoulder once more. She doesn’t have to explain anything else. It’s clearly hurting her too much to do so. “Hey, you don’t have to give us all the details–”

“When I got closer, suddenly I just…” She doesn’t look at you, doesn’t listen. “I woke up.”

“It was like she was in a-a trance or something.” Dustin mumbles, before he remembers something. “It was exactly what Eddie said happened to Chrissy.”

Unease settles over the group. Eddie had been telling the truth. If there was any doubt remaining of his innocence, there’s none left now. Slowly, you watch as everyone pieces together what you and Max already know. One by one, the light in their eyes dims; Steve’s finds yours.

The look in his eyes shatters you. The brown is coated with anguish, he’s already mourning you. He doesn’t like where this is going.

You look away.

Max turns, her breathing quickens. Dried tears still mark her face. She looks at you, silently asking how much she should tell the others. You’re a part of this, too. It isn’t just her life in their hands. She’s giving you the choice to run, to pretend that everything is fine. To continue what you’ve been doing since senior year started.

She wouldn’t blame you, and you know this.

But you can’t run. Not this time. Not when Max needs you, not if somehow you can figure out a way to make sure that she survives.

You nod at Max.

She inhales, prepares for impact. “That’s not even the bad part.”

–

Everyone crowds around Ms. Kelly’s office. No one dares to turn the light on. A part of you wonders if this is done consciously, if the light would make everything more real.

“Fred and Chrissy, they both came to Ms. Kelly for help.” Max explains to Robin and Nancy, informing them of what you found. Nancy reads over the files, Robin’s eyes don’t leave your body. “Uh, they both were having headaches, bad headaches that just wouldn’t go away. And then…”

“The nightmares.” You continue, gaze not meeting anyone. You stare at the wall ahead of you. There isn’t any emotion in your voice. “Trouble falling asleep, staying asleep.”

Steve tries to get you to look at him. He remembers all the late night phone calls. He’d noticed you wince earlier in the trailer park, how you rubbed your temples and told him it was nothing. His mouth goes dry with every little detail he once dismissed.

“And then they started seeing things,” Max doesn’t look at anyone either. Her voice shakes, she tries to hide the tears that don’t seem to go away. You grab her hand. It’s the only indication that you’re still with her, still listening. “Bad things, from their past.”

Dustin shifts uncomfortably. Last week he’d woken up to you screaming Billy’s name. He had ignored it.

“These visions, they just kept getting worse and worse, until eventually…” Max pauses, the words refuse to come out. Her body freezes up, her stomach clenches.

“Max,” you whisper, only it’s spoken as a promise. As a reassurance.

She inhales again, squeezes your hand so tight that it cuts off the circulation, but you don’t let go of her. “Until eventually… everything ended.”

Robin sees your hand in Max’s. She notes the way it’s held with an understanding, not with a condolence. She swallows. “Vecna’s curse.”

“Chrissy’s headaches started a week ago. Fred’s six days ago.” The air in the room builds into a dull roar. No one moves. Time stills. Max takes another shaky breath. Thunder has sounded, lightning is about to strike. “I’ve been having them for five days.”

Even though you knew what she was going to say, hearing the words come out of Max’s mouth chokes you. The panic from earlier returns. The frantic need to protect her, to pull her into your arms and never let go of her.

“My headaches started two days ago,” your voice is barely above a whisper. It feels more like a confession of a sin, rather than a confession of weakness. “The night of Lucas’ game.”

The moment you’ve revealed this, Steve and Dustin simultaneously whip their heads up to look at you. Panic shadows their faces, the two of them rush towards you and nearly topple over the other to get to you.

“No, something isn’t right.” Steve’s in denial. He doesn’t want to believe it. Neither do you.

Dustin grabs your face, he pulls it down so he can get a better look at your eyes. “You could be dehydrated, or-or tired. Headaches are caused by a lot of things. You’re pale, you’re probably sick and this is all just conspiracy bullshit and–”

“Dustin,” you loosen his grip on you, trying your best to sound as gentle as you can. “You know it isn’t conspiracy bullshit.” His eyes wet with tears, for once in your life you don’t know how to protect him. You choke on your own tears again, breaking. “I-I’m fine, alright? We need to focus on Max right now, she’s the one who had the vision.”

“But you have all the symptoms, too!” Steve exclaims, too scared to look away from you. He can’t believe you’re saying this. He’s always known how selfless you are, but you’re in danger. You could die. Why don’t you care?

Max angrily wipes at her face. She hates that you’re already putting her ahead of yourself. She doesn’t deserve the kindness, the sacrifices you’re already making. “Look, we don’t know how much time we have to argue about this. All we know is that for Fred and Chrissy, they both died less than 24 hours after their first vision, and I just saw that goddamn clock.”

“Max,” you break away from your brother and try to reach for the girl, but she’s crying again and anger clouds her vision. “Whatever you’re thinking, I promise that–”

“I’m going to die tomorrow, Y/N!” She cries out, too tired and devastated for your reassurance.

You tug at her jacket. “You’re not dying tomorrow.”

None of this is fair. Max is too young, she’s been through too much, she’s survived too much to be manipulated like this. To have her life taken away too easily. It should’ve been you. Vecna should’ve targeted you instead of Max. He should’ve shown you the vision, cursed you before her.

Anything to keep Max alive.

She’s about to argue with you, she knows what you’re implying, but a creak down the hall alerts you that there’s something nearby. Everyone turns towards the source of the sound, the heightened energy in the room leaves you all on edge.

“Stay here,” Steve instructs the group, already stalking towards the door to find where the sound came from.

You roll your eyes at him, grabbing his arm before he can leave. He’s an idiot if he thinks you won’t follow after him, fight by his side. “We’re both going.”

Steve narrows his eyes but doesn’t argue. Instead, he nods reluctantly and points towards your knives. Understanding, you flick your wrist and extend the blades. He nods, satisfied, before he grabs a lamp from the corner and holds it up with pride. The lamp clatters loudly, it’s a stupid weapon, but you suppose it’ll have to do.

Together, the two of you slowly exit the room and creep into the hallway. The school is terrifying at night, the empty halls eerie. You walk side by side while the others trail quietly behind. The sound of footsteps rush towards you, getting louder and louder with every step.

Steve looks at you, raising his lamp to his head, and you raise your knives. You plant your feet on the ground, you brace for whatever is about to round the corner.

A figure emerges, screaming when it nearly runs into you and Steve. The person screeches, cowering, and your knives nearly come down upon a frightened Lucas. Your arm freezes, scream dying in your throat when you realize there isn’t any danger. “Jesus fuck, Sinclair!”

The boy holds his hands up in surrender. “It’s me!”

Steve clutches his chest, pressed against you after jumping into your arms when Lucas appeared. It hadn’t been his manliest moment, he’ll admit. “What’s wrong with you?”

“I’m sorry,” Lucas pants, and it’s then that you notice he’s drenched in sweat.

“I nearly stabbed you!” You exclaim, feeling horrendously guilty.

Steve sputters. “Even more importantly, I could’ve taken you out with this lamp!”

“Oh, sure. The lamp definitely would’ve helped.” You mutter sarcastically, but Steve is too busy still trying to steady his heartbeat to care.

Lucas apologizes again, hunched over his knees as he tries to catch his breath. “I was biking for eight miles.” He holds a finger up, winces in pain. “Give me a second. Shit.”

Everyone looks at each other, bewildered by Lucas’ sudden appearance. Your worry grows, he’d mentioned earlier how there was something bad happening, you’d heard Jason over the radio. Cautiously you step towards him. “Please tell me you biked eight miles for fun.”

Lucas shakes his head. “We’ve got a code red.”

Your heart drops. “It’s Jason, isn’t it?”

“How do you always do that?” He wheezes, somehow still surprised when you figure everything out first. It’s what you’ve always done. He’s never been able to hide anything from you. Seeing your pointed look to cut to the chase, Lucas turns to your brother. “Dustin, she’s right. I’ve been with Jason, Patrick, and Andy, and they’ve gone totally off the rails.”

He explains the basketball team’s plan to hunt Eddie down and make him pay for what they think he did to Chrissy. When Lucas mentions how Jason is looking for Dustin now because he’s in Hellfire, all you see is red.

“I’ll kill him,” you hiss, fingers scratching over the engraving on your knife hilt. An old nickname resides there, a remnant from an old man who told you to use the weapon with love.

“Y/N, while I’m flattered you’d kill for me, we kinda have bigger problems than Jason now.” Dustin says nervously, turning towards Max. The reminder stabs at your skin, reignites the bitterness and remorse.

Lucas looks between you and the girl, finally realizing how quiet everyone else has been. His head turns to you for some sort of explanation, it’s instinctual within him now to go to you for advice, solace and comfort. It’s what he’s grown up doing.

Except for the first time in Lucas’ life, your eyes don’t meet his.

Max stands apart from everyone. Her eyes don’t meet his, either.

Lucas had biked all this way to save his friends. He thought the biggest monster he’d have to face was Jason and the team. He didn’t think he’d be walking into the final hours of the two girls he loves more than anything.

–

Nancy offers you and Max her house to stay in. Neither of you can stomach the thought of going home, facing your mothers with the knowledge that they might lose their daughters soon.

Dustin, Steve, and Robin refuse to leave your side. Lucas refuses to leave Max’s.

The seven of you stand awkwardly in the Wheeler’s kitchen as Nancy asks her mother permission to have you all spend the night. Her mothers greets you all kindly as she always does, albeit confused as to why half of Hawkins is spending the night at her house. “I mean, do we have the room, Nance?”

“We’ll all fit in the basement.” Nancy reassures. “We just figured it’s safer this way, sticking together.”

Mrs. Wheeler coos with sentiment and relaxes her shoulders. “Oh, alright. It’s scary, what’s happening out there right now. I understand.”

You give a weak smile to her. “We really appreciate your hospitality, Mrs. Wheeler.”

She smiles back at you and gently ushers everyone downstairs. As you descend the steps, you realize that she’s right. It’ll be a tight fit with everyone, the couch is barely large enough to comfortably sit three people.

But the smell of the basement is familiar, earthy and safe. It’s been a long time since you’ve been down here. You used to spend countless nights in the basement ever since you were twelve. The boys always insisted you join their campaigns. You’d always drag Jonathan with you. There’s so much laughter within these walls, tears and the hardships of growing up.

“Where are we all gonna fit?” Dustin sits down on the couch, eyeing the space around him.

Conversation breaks out as the sleeping arrangements are assigned. It’s nearly a heated debate, no one wants to be separated from you and Max. The girl stands off in the corner, barely listening, and you can’t help but do the same. As Dustin and Robin bicker over who gets to sleep on the couch, you use the distraction as an opportunity to slip away upstairs.

The night air is cool against your cheeks as you sit on the Wheeler’s porch. The quiet is welcomed, your body aches with the need to have a moment to yourself. You don’t know how late it is, you wonder if your mother is asleep right now. Dustin had called her when you arrived at the Wheeler’s. He had given her the same excuse you’d given Mrs. Wheeler about wanting to stick together in a group.

You wonder if your death will be what finally breaks your mother. The heartbreak of the divorce had weakened her, the death of her daughter would kill her. But Dustin will need his mother; he can’t grieve you alone.

With everything going on, all the revelations and despair, you haven’t had the time to properly come to terms with what’s happening; the weight of it sits deep within your chest.

The target on Max, on you.

Steve finds you on the porch with your knees curled into your chest, trying to make yourself as small as possible. His heart tightens at the sight. Slowly, he sits down next to you. The warmth of his body simmers your skin, his presence quells the dull roar inside you.

Your head falls against his shoulder. It’s quiet between you. All there seems to be these days between you and Steve is silence.

Fireflies flicker in the distance. You close your eyes, pretending they’re shooting stars, and wish for the end to be kind to you.

“Remember the last time we were on the Wheeler’s porch together?” Steve whispers into the quiet of the night. You shake your head against him. He grabs your hand, plays with your fingers as he watches the fireflies. “Almost four years ago I found you here while I was looking for Nance. You’d been looking for Jonathan, but you tried lying about it.”

You manage a small laugh, remembering faintly the night he’s referring to. Hearing the laugh, Steve feels just a little bit stronger, more grounded. He continues. “You’ve never been a very good liar.”

“No,” you agree.

“That night… well, it was awful.” Faint bitterness leaks into Steve’s words. He remembers how hurt he’d been, finding Nancy wrapped around Jonathan. His girl underneath the creep’s arm. He remembers the anger that quickly followed, how heavily it consumed him. “Thought I’d been cheated on, and it was a pretty shitty feeling.”

Your finger skims over his knuckles. There’s a faint scar on them from his fight with Jonathan. You remember the anger from that night, too. The violence that followed it. You’re not sure why Steve’s is telling you all of this, though.

“Nancy never did cheat on you, you know.” You softly remind him.

Steve chuckles, pulls you closer into his side. “I know that now. But that night, it just-it really fucking hurt, you know? Thought I’d never feel anything shittier, that my night couldn’t get any worse. But then… I saw your face.”

He swallows, shivers at the feeling of your fingers tracing his scars. “When I saw you standing there, all alone, the way your face fell when I told you about Jonathan,” Steve shakes his head. “The heartbreak on your face, that fact that I couldn’t do anything to protect you from it. That’s what hurt me the most.”

A heartbeat of silence, it almost deafens you, before he finally says, “And it’s why I won’t let anything else happen to you.”

Your heart constricts at Steve’s promise. You know he means it, that he’ll die defending his oath, and that’s what terrifies you the most out of everything that’s happened tonight.

Steve and Dustin will do whatever they can to keep you safe. They don’t want to lose you, they can’t lose you. They’ll burn themselves up if it means you’ll survive, but you don’t want them to. You don’t want any of this.

All you want is for Max to survive.

“Steve,” your head lifts up, he turns to look at you. Meeting his eyes, all you see within the brown is grief. It’s a funny thing, feeling someone’s grief for you within their gaze; it burns. “You have to protect Max.”

“Y/N–”

“No, you-you have to promise me, alright?” Your hand rests against Steve’s chest, he tries to cave into you but you won’t allow him any closer. Not like this, not when you need him to make a promise you know he can’t keep.

Steve presses his head against yours and he breathes you in. He’s shaking against you. “I don’t…. I don’t know what you want from me.” He’d do anything for you. Whatever you ask of him, he’ll do it.

“Promise me that if it–” your breath catches, your lips quiver with hesitancy. It isn’t fair, none of this is fucking fair. “Promise me that if it comes down to me or Max, you’ll choose her.”

Steve’s body retracts from yours as if he’s been stung. His heart is racing, a roar deafens his ears. He can’t breathe, his eyes can’t leave yours, he doesn’t know what to do. You’ve already given up. You’ve already decided to give your life in exchange for Max’s, and Steve doesn’t know what to do.

He’s never been able to say no to you.

“Angel,” the cry is so soft, so heartbroken, that for a moment your resolve slips. You almost reach towards Steve, caress his cheek and apologize over and over again for making him do this. Your lips can feel his skin against them, but you don’t press against it; you don’t allow yourself to.

“Please,” You’re crying. The tears fall freely down your face, too tired to stop them. All day you’ve held them in, put up a front for your brother and Max. They can’t know how terrified you are. They need you, they can’t see you like this, but here, alone with Steve, you finally break.

Seeing your tears, Steve finally wraps his arms around your body and just holds you. You cry for a long, long time. Everything comes out, then. The anger, always within you, that threatens to boil over, the heartbreak of losing Jonathan, the guilt of leaving Dustin behind soon, how the guilt intensifies when you think about letting Max die instead.

You’ve been here before.

“I’m choosing you, Y/N.” Steve whispers, lips pressed softly against your hair. Your body stiffens, he feels it, but he holds you tighter instead. “I’ll always choose you.”

“Steve…”

“Please don’t make me say no to you.” He pulls away, grabs your face and makes you look at him. You’re pale, tears wet your lovely face, and all Steve wants to do is fall asleep with you forever. He strokes the crest of your eyebrow, kisses your forehead. “Please don’t make me lose you.”

There’s more Steve wants to say. He wants to refuse you, he wants to scream, he wants to demand an explanation from you. There’s a mark on you that he would give anything to erase. How could you possibly think Steve could ever make a promise like that? To agree to let you die, as if your life isn’t worth everything to him.

The anger in Steve’s eyes startle you. His voice is frail, his body weak, but his eyes are alive with a deep fury as he looks at you. Pleads with you. The anger closes your throat, renders you speechless.

You know that there’s nothing you can say that will change Steve’s mind. You’ve come to a stalemate. A tie between two ends of desperate halves.

“I’m tired,” your voice cracks. It’s the closest you’ll come to admitting anything else. Another headache is forming, all you want to do is sleep in Steve’s arms. “Can we go to bed, please?”

I don’t want to fight anymore.

Steve can see the weight of exhaustion that crushes you, and he sighs, nodding. “Yeah, angel. Whatever you want. I convinced Robin to give us the couch.”

I’ll do whatever you want, as long as I get to hold you in the end.

You nod back at him. The unspoken words settle between you, they linger in the shadows, but for tonight they’re put to rest. Lifting your arms up, you silently demand to be carried, and Steve can’t help but laugh softly. He stands up, bends down to scoop you up, and carries you back inside the Wheeler home.

The basement couch is small, the two of you hardly fit, but neither of you mind. It’s an excuse to be as close as possible, a reason to tuck your chin into the crevice of Steve’s neck, absolving him to wrap his arms around you, as if he can shield you from the horrors that will come.

–

Steve wakes up to whispering.

His eyes blearily open, his body twists in a sleepy haze. He’d been having a good dream. You were in it, you were laughing in his ear. It’d been a warm, spring day. Just the two of you. But he’s awake now, and when he looks down he finds you sound asleep on his chest.

“Do you really think…?” Another whisper, and Steve squints against the dark to figure out who it is. Lucas and Dustin are snoring together on the ground. Max is in the armchair, her small frame wrapped around the cushioning.

“I don’t know,” a different voice whispers, and this time Steve thinks it’s Robin. The dim lighting muddles away and he can see the outline of her nose. He thinks she’s talking to Nancy, she’s the only other person who could be awake right now. “But it’s Y/N, I-I’m worried, you know?”

Nancy nods. “She wouldn’t–” She pauses, sensing that someone is listening. Suddenly Steve can feel her eyes land on him. He’s been caught.

Clearing her throat, Nancy excuses herself from Robin and walks towards the couch. She stops just out of Steve’s reach. He doesn’t move, his arms don’t leave your body. For a moment they stare at one another. Robin busies herself in the corner, leaving the two of them alone.

Steve doesn’t remember the last time he was alone with Nancy. Her presence makes him uncomfortable, the history between them heavy. He still holds so much admiration and love for the girl, he always will, but he doesn’t know what to do with all the excess love now that they aren’t together. They never really got the chance to be friends, and it’s something Steve regrets every day.

He’s sure they would’ve been the best of friends. Maybe similar to you and Jonathan.

The thought startles Steve, almost as much as the question that falls from Nancy’s pink lips. “How are you dealing with, you know…?”

She motions softly towards you, still asleep. Your head is tucked against Steve’s neck and your breathing is steady. He rubs the length of your spine. He isn’t sure what to say to Nancy. How to answer her question in a way that won’t betray your trust. He knows what you’ve told him tonight was meant only for his ears.

But Steve is terrified of what you’ve revealed to him.

“She wants us to focus on Max.” He finally whispers, the confession clings to his lips in deceit. “Not… not on her.”

Nancy nods, as if she was expecting Steve to say this. Her eyes harden slightly, though the crease between her brows soften with understanding. “Y/N already decided who we’ll save, hasn’t she?”

Steve swallows, he avoids her gaze. It’s all the confirmation Nancy needs. She nods again, she stares down at you and is struck by how young you look in the moonlight. She’s older than you by only a few months, and yet tonight Nancy feels as if there’s years that stretch between you.

“She’ll try to sacrifice herself.” It isn’t a question, though Nancy still pauses as if to give Steve a moment to respond. They both know the answer. Anyone who has ever known you would know the answer. When Steve doesn’t say anything, she sighs. “I’m not surprised.”

You’ve always been so devoted to the ones you love.

Nancy remembers the day she met you, how shy she’d been back then. There was a hardness within you, when you first moved to Hawkins, though Nancy never blamed you. Being twelve is difficult, and she saw the softness that was underneath the hard exterior that would one day resurface.

When Mike was ten, a year after you entered his life, he broke his arm riding his bike. It’d been raining and his wheel caught on the curb. Nancy hadn’t been home at the time, spending the day at Barb’s. When she returned home to find you diligently wrapping his cast with plastic bags so that he could shower, Nancy was almost angry to see you taking such tender care of her brother. It was supposed to be her job.

But the anger was gone the moment you smiled up at Nancy and asked if she’d like to help. You’d included her with such ease, made room for her where Nancy had thought there was none.

For years this pattern followed. The boys adored you, you quickly became their favorite sibling out of the party. Often Nancy would find you in her basement, surrounded by the boys as you joined their campaigns or delivered them the cookies they always fought over.

If one of them was sick, you’d spend hours by their side, spoon feeding them medicine. When Lucas chipped his front tooth, you were the first to react and call his parents to pick him up. When Will spilled water all over a drawing he’d spent weeks on, you helped him recreate the art piece. It’d taken you hours, but you never once complained. When Dustin lost his favorite model rocket, you biked two hours to find him a replacement.

Over and over again you gave everything to everyone you’ve ever met.

“She’s always been selfless. It’s what I admire the most about her.” Nancy says delicately. It’s the truth. For years she’s watched you, always at a distance. She’s never understood how you do it, how you can give so much of yourself to others without any cost. “But sometimes, I-I hate the selflessness as well.”

Because the cost has come; the cost will be your life for Max’s.

Steve brushes a strand of hair from your face. Sometimes he hates how selfless you are, too. “I can’t lose her, Nance.”

The pained words litter papercuts into Nancy’s skin. She watches the way Steve’s fingers skim your face with gentle passivity. She’s never seen him so soft with anyone, not even when he was with her. The thought makes her stomach twist.

Jonathan is soft with Nancy, he always has been. For the first time since he’s moved, she’s happy he’s in California. She doesn’t know what she’d do if he were here in Hawkins, marked by some creature in the Upside Down that wants to kill him.

“I’m sorry,” Nancy breathes out. She can’t imagine what Steve’s going through, all the fear and guilt that must burden him. She wishes she could say something else, anything else, but what more can Nancy say? You could die soon. None of it is fair.

Steve is quiet. He still doesn’t look at Nancy, he hardly even acknowledges her presence. She knows he doesn’t do this with malice. He’s overwhelmed, mourning someone who is still alive. Figuring he needs some space, Nancy tries to leave. “I’m sure you’re exhausted, I’m sorry Robin and I woke you up. Go back to sleep–

“I’d follow her to the end of the world if she asked me to.” Steve says, stroking your hair. “Even if that means fighting some asshole in the Upside Down, I will.”

The corners of Nancy’s mouth turn upwards, a small smile that she doesn’t bother to hide. “I’m sure we’ll figure it out, without going to the Upside Down. Stick to our own universe. I’m sure Y/N would agree with me.”

“Yeah,” Steve chuckles, careful not to disturb you. “I’m sure she would.”

You stir in your sleep. Although you don’t wake up, Steve hums softly. It’s a melodic tune, one Nancy has never heard before, but he does it without thinking. His body eases into the song, your body relaxes again.

“There you go,” he whispers into your ear, tightening his arms around you as you drift back to sleep. It’s an intimate moment, too intimate to watch. Nancy takes it as her cue to leave.

“Goodnight, Steve.”

He smiles up at her, rests his head against yours. “Goodnight, Nance.”

–

Dustin forgets how different he and Steve are.

While he thinks the guy is cool and all, and he can’t deny how happy he makes you, Dustin could really do without Steve’s obsessive worrying. He’s constantly stressed about something, regardless of the situation. He’s all heart, always carried away by his instincts. Dustin is the opposite, he’s logical and uses reasoning to figure things out.

Which means that all morning Dustin has been reading the newspaper printings that Nancy found. He’s been quietly taking notes on Victor Creel ever since the sun came up. He knows that if he does all the research, read in between the lines, that he’ll be able to save you. Dustin refuses to let you or Max die; he’s always been able to crack a complex problem.

Meanwhile, all Steve has done is pace the floor, mumbling to himself, for hours.

It’s driving Dustin insane.

“It’s pretty straightforward.” He says to Steve, who still isn’t able to understand where Victor Creel falls into all of this. “Everyone Vecna has cursed has died, except for this old Victor Creel dude Nancy found. He’s the only known survivor; if anyone knows how to beat this curse, it’s him.”

“Okay, I seriously don’t like talking about the whole ‘death’ part,” Steve rubs his eyes. He hates thinking about it, he hates how apathetic you were last night about sacrificing yourself. When you woke up this morning, you didn’t mention last night to him. Instead, you’d strayed towards Max and haven’t left her side since. “There being only one known survivor really doesn’t make me feel any better about Max and Y/N being cursed.”

He should be doing more. Steve knows he can do better, that he can find something if he just tries harder. Then, skimming the newspaper lines again, his eyebrows draw in. “Which is even assuming Victor was cursed. How can Vecna have even existed back in the ‘50s? It doesn’t make any sense.”

There’s too many unknowns. They drown Steve and pierce his skin.

Dustin explains his theory about how El hadn’t really created the Upside Down but instead opened a gate to it. “I wouldn't be surprised if it predated the dinosaurs.”

Steve scoffs and Lucas drops his own print of the newspaper back onto the couch. “But if there wasn’t a gate in the ‘50s, how did Vecna get through?”

“And how is he getting through now?” Steve adds, nodding at the teen.

“And why now?”

“And why then?” Steve’s arms drop to his side, he’s getting worked up again. Nothing adds up. “Just pops out in the ‘50s, kills one family, and then just disappears, only to return 30 years later and start killing random teens? Targeting my girlfriend?”

Dustin drops his head into his hands. His own head hurts, Steve admittedly brought up some good points. Still, he also doesn’t like the idea of Vecna marking you. “She’s my sister, you know. I could be an only child soon.”

“And yet you’re annoyingly calm about all of this,” sitting down, Steve crosses his legs and sends a pointed look Dustin’s way. “A little humility now and then wouldn’t hurt you.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Next time my sister gets cursed by some demonic being, I’ll sob on my hands and knees and get absolutely nothing done like you are!”

Lucas shoves Dustin’s shoulder and motions over towards the corner desk where you and Max sit. “Would you two shut up? They’re gonna hear you.”

Dustin and Steve turn to where Lucas points, the anger in them dies out. All morning you’ve been with Max at the desk. The girl furiously scribbles on paper while you sit next to her, silent.

Max hasn’t said anything for hours, but she also hasn’t asked you to leave her alone. You think she wants you close to her just as much as you want her close to you. The presence of the other is calming, even if you can’t bring yourself to ask what Max is writing. You’re afraid that you already know.

“Did they sleep?” Dustin mumbles, noticing the slouch in your posture and the bags underneath your eyes.

Lucas winces. “I mean, would you?”

“Y/N slept for a little bit last night, but…” Steve looks down at his hands. He’d woken up to you having a nightmare. It’d taken him nearly five minutes to calm you down afterwards. “It wasn’t enough.”

All three boys stare at you and Max. They don’t know what to do, they’ve never had to handle a loss like this before. A silence falls over them, but it’s soon broken by the sound of Nancy’s heels running down the stairs as Robin follows.

“Okay, so.” She beams, so does Robin, and for a moment Steve is foolish enough to have hope. “We have a plan.”

–

As always, Nancy’s plan is brilliant. It’s also extremely illegal, but you’ve come to accept this about the girl. You flit through the fake transcripts she’s presented you. “These are impressive, they look so real.”

Robin taps your nose. “Thank Nancy’s newspaper minions.”

“You think they could make me one?” You ask, eying the high GPA Nancy and Robin allegedly have and their years of research expertise. “Might need it for grad school.”

“Why would you even need one? Nance and I are now rock-star psychology students at Notre Dame. We can just write you a killer recommendation letter as Ruth and Rose.”

You tilt your head at Nancy, a teasing smile on your face. “I take it you’re Ruth, huh?” She shrugs, smiling as well. Your eyes catch on the area of research on the transcripts, and you snort. “Schizophrenia? Y’all couldn’t come up with something less on the nose?”

“You were asleep and it was all we could think of.” Nancy rolls her eyes at you and clears her throat, finally continuing with her explanation. “Anyways, we called Pennhurst Asylum and told them we’d like to speak with Creel for a thesis we’re co-writing on paranoid schizophrenics–”

“And I’m sure they denied you.” Crossing your arms, you lean against the seat you share with Steve. When Robin tells you that they did, you snort. “I would’ve warned you had I known. No way would an asylum let two random undergrads speak with a patient. It violates, like, every patient privacy law there is.”

Nancy crosses her own arms and smirks at you. “True, but we were able to land a three o’clock with the director.”

“I don’t know why I ever doubt you.” You amend, and Nancy laughs. Robin finishes explaining the plan and how they’ll try to charm the director to let them see Creel. Your eyes wander towards Max, who still sits at the desk as she writes. Sighing, you nod at Nancy. “It’s a risky plan that relies heavily on luck, but I think it’s worth it if it means we can get rid of Max’s curse.”

“And yours,” Nancy reminds you gently.

You don’t look at her, pretending not to have heard. An awkward silence falls upon the group. Steve looks to Dustin for help, but the kid can only shrug. Not wanting to burn through the small hope he’s feeling, Steve clears his throat. “Well, we’ve been doing our Victor Creel homework and, um. Have some questions of our own.”

“Lots of questions.” Lucas echoes.

Nancy sighs. “So do we. Hopefully Victor has the answers.”

“Maybe I can help,” you offer, looking between Nancy and Robin. “I mean, I’m kinda the only one here who understands psychology. I doubt either of you even know what the DSM stands for.”

Robin sticks her tongue out at you. “Of course I know what it stands it, obviously it’s the diagnosed s’many m’people.”

You throw a pen at the girl and she dodges, giggling. While the two of you bicker, Steve looks through the fake transcripts and quickly realizes something. “Wait a second, there’s only two in here. Where’s mine?”

Nancy squirms in her seat and avoids his eyes; Robin does the same. You tilt your head at Steve and narrow your own eyes. He recoils slightly, sensing that he’s upset you somehow. Before an argument can arise, Nancy claps her hands and stands up suddenly.

“Alright, I guess that’s settled, then.”

“No, no way is anything settled.” Steve stands up too, now following Nancy as she tries to flee upstairs. They’re gone within seconds, leaving you and Robin alone with the kids.

Picking at your nails, you share a weary look with Robin. “Is it even worth following?”

“Probably not,” she knocks her shoulder against yours and motions for you to start walking up the basement steps. “But Steve will talk Nancy’s ears off if we don’t intervene.”

Knowing she’s right, you tell Dustin and the others to stay in the basement while you try to talk some sense into your boyfriend. The boys snicker at this, though Max is still writing in the corner. Following Robin upstairs, you can hear Steve’s whining long before you get to Nancy’s room.

“Nancy, you’re out of your mind if you think I’m babysitting, again.”

You try really hard not to take offense to this. Steve is being exceptionally difficult this morning and you’re slightly pissed off that he seems so butthurt over Nancy not wanting him to tag along. You’re the one who is cursed and in danger. You need Steve right now. Not her.

Faintly, in the back of your mind you wonder if all this anger within you has something to do with Vecna. The jealous vitriol is foreign, the insecurity that follows it is disarming. You’ve been hurt before, you’ve felt anger before, but never like this.

“Nice to know that you view staying with your endangered girlfriend as babysitting, Steve.” You say as you walk through Nancy’s doorway, highly unamused.

He spins around and nearly chokes when he sees you. “Okay, no. That’s not at all how I meant. I-I just mean–”

“Oh my God,” Robin bursts into the room and immediately rushes towards something on the wall. “You have a Tom Cruise poster!” She admires it for a moment before realizing that this is Nancy’s room, and her interest grows. With a smirk, she turns to the girl. “Wait, you have a Tom Cruise poster.

“That’s-old!” Nancy digs through her closet, cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

You walk over to the poster and nod appreciatively at it. “Hey, Tom Cruise is pretty. I don’t blame you.”

“Hey!” Steve waves his hands in the air, offended and completely overwhelmed.

You shrug at him. “You’re the one who wants me and Max to die, so I get to call an actor hot.”

“I never said that!” He shrieks, hands finding his hair as he tugs harshly at it. Everything is coming out wrong. Nothing he does is ever right. Isn’t that what his father always tells him?

Panicked, Steve rushes towards you and grabs your hands. His eyes plead with you. “Angel, you gotta believe me, alright? I-I just don’t want to stand around while you’re in danger. I have to do something, and-and maybe I can be helpful with this asylum director dude, right?”

“Steve…” But he doesn’t hear you.

“I don’t know, I could turn my-my charm on,” he rambles on, pulling you close and closer as he talks. “Just, please don’t think I want to leave you. God, I don’t. But I’m going crazy without answers and I–”

“Honey,” even though Nancy and Robin are watching, you grab the back of Steve’s neck and pull his head down into your neck. Your other hand wraps around his body, hugging him as tightly as you can. He’s spiraling, overthinking everything. “Breathe with me. Can you do that?”

He nods weakly, nose pressed to your skin. In and out he breathes with you. With every breath he exhales, your anger towards him dims. Steve had only been trying to help. That’s all he’s ever wanted to do for you; help you.

“Now,” you gently pull away after his breathing has steadied. “While you’re charming, I doubt your charm will be what Nancy and Robin need.”

“Ouch,” he quietly says, a hint of laughter in his voice.

Nancy tries to ease any remaining tension. “She’s right, Steve. I did a little digging last night, and it turns out this Dr. Hatch is a distinguished fellow of the American Psychiatric Association and a Harvard visiting scholar… If anything, we could use Y/N’s charm more.”

“Normally I’d love to win someone like Dr. Hatch over.” You admit, biting your lip. The man sounds incredible. You’d kill to meet him, to actually speak to someone so distinguished in the psychology field. There’s so many questions you have, hundreds of journals and published papers you’d love to ask him about.

Then you remember Max’s messy handwriting and the exhaustion in her eyes. The tear marks on her face, how she hadn’t wanted you to leave her side all morning. You can’t possibly leave her right now.

“But I have to stay with Max.”

Robin, Steve, and Nancy all look at one another. Their expressions are similar, yet unreadable. They’re in some unspoken agreement that you aren’t a part of. Your skin warms with discomfort. Without meaning to, you look towards Steve and silently beg him to stay with you.

Everything is weird and scary and you’ve been marked by some goddamn monster from the Upside Down who wants you and Max to die. Every bone inside you leaks cortisol and your body drips acid terror.

Yet the only thing you want right now is for Steve to be here, next to you, holding your hand through it all.

“If you’re staying, I’m staying.” He finally says, promising you.

You release the breath you’d been holding. He exhales with you and your hand finds his. Lacing your fingers together, the pounding in your head quiets.

“Not to ruin this lovely moment, but there’s a tiny ballerina in here.” Robin opens a jewelry box she found and it begins to play soft music.

Nancy glares at her while you laugh. Steve rolls his eyes at his friend. “While I’m all for staying here, how are we going to turn ballerina girl over here into an academic scholar?”

“I might be able to give a brief overview of psychology to y’all?” You offer, but even you know that there wouldn’t be enough time.

“Or, we could do this.” Nancy pulls a frilly, pink dress from her closet. It’s covered in ruffles and she holds it up, pointing towards Robin. Her eyebrows are raised in amusement, she barely hides her pleased snicker.

Robin stares at the dress, utterly speechless. “Oh, please tell me you’re joking.”

“It’s very… pink?”

“Shut up, Y/N.”

“At least I tried.”

–

After Nancy and Robin leave for Pennhurst, you find yourself pretending to read a comic while Lucas, Steve, and Dustin stare at you. They sit across from you on the basement couch while Max remains at the desk.

You try to ignore them, but their beady little eyes make your skin crawl. When they aren’t staring at you, they’re staring at Max. You feel their eyes drift from you to her, over and over again.

“Would you guys stop it?” You finally snap, slamming your comic down onto the coffee table.

The boys jump, all grabbing various items to try and appear nonchalant. Lucas holds a newspaper up and smiles awkwardly, Dustin yanks a book from the table and flips to a random page, and Steve tosses a baseball into the air as if he’d been doing so all along. They all look away, heads turned in opposite directions.

“What, did you say something?” Steve asks coyly.

Max turns in her seat. “We know you guys are staring at us.”

“We’re just hanging out,” Steve tosses the ball again and Lucas nods.

You roll your eyes at them. “Yeah, real convincing.”

“How you guys think your eyes boring into our skin is protecting Y/N and I from Vecna, I don’t know.” Max mumbles, collecting the paper she’s been writing on all morning.

She walks over to the sitting area and you poke her shoulder playfully, hoping to get her to laugh. “Ignore them, they’re idiots.” When she stands before the boys and no one lifts their head to look at the two of you, you sigh. “Okay, now you’re taking this too literally.”

“You can look at us now.” Max says, to which all the boys sigh in relief.

“Thank you,” Dustin breathes out while Steve and Lucas mutter quiet apologies.

“Is there anything you need?” You ask the girl, noting that she’s carried her papers over to where everyone sits.

Max nods, taking a deep breath, before extending her arm. “Yeah, I need you to take this.”

In her hand is an envelope with your name written on it. She gives one to Dustin, too. Then Lucas and Steve. The envelope is heavy in your hands. Though you suspected what Max had spent her morning doing, the reality of the goodbye letter in your hand makes your stomach twist.

“Oh, and um. Can you give these to Mike, El, and Will?” Max asks you, handing three additional letters to you. “If you can ever get a hold of them again.”

Your head moves numbly, you think you manage to nod. Nausea wracks your skull.

Dustin goes to open his letter and Max quickly stops him. “Woah, hey. That’s not for now. Don’t open it now.”

Your brother raises his eyebrows but does as he’s told, putting the letter back in the envelope. He squints at Max, confused, and holds up his letter. “I’m sorry, what is this?” “It’s, um…” Max looks down, clearly uncomfortable. Her eyebrows pinch together and she can’t seem to say anything else.

“They’re goodbye letters.” You answer for her, staring down at your own letter. A part of you wants to burn it, to never read its content, but the other, smaller part of you wonders what she could’ve written for you. After all the times you’ve failed Max, you’re sure she struggled to say anything nice about you.

Steve makes a pained, surprised sound. “Goodbye letters?” “It’s more like a fail-safe. For after.” Max tries to amend, as if her explanation makes the bitter taste sting less. “If things don’t work out.”

Lucas sits up in alarm. “Max, things are gonna work out.”

“No!” She exclaims, angry. “No, I don’t need you to reassure me right now and tell me it’s all gonna work out.”

“But Max, we will figure it out, alright? We will, there isn’t any reason to not–”

“People have been telling me that everything will work out my entire life, Y/N!” Max cuts you off. Her cheeks are red, her body is stiff. “And it’s almost never true. It’s never true. I mean, of course this asshole curses me.”

Suddenly all the fight within her leaves. The hurt comes back, the fear. Max looks away in shame. “I mean, for Y/N it doesn’t make any sense. But for me? I should’ve seen that one coming.”

She stands in front of you with tears in her eyes. The deafening silence that follows haunts you. Lucas can’t speak, Dustin and Steve don’t know what to say. And you? All you can do is swallow back your own tears and remind yourself that you’re here for Max. That she needs you.

“You aren’t being fair to yourself.” You say gently, reaching out to grab her hand; but she pulls away instead. You blink away your tears and move towards her, you want nothing more than to wrap her in your arms forever and never let go. “Max, I’m serious. You don’t deserve this, you don’t deserve half of what life has given you. I’m sorry that you’ve come to think otherwise.”

Max turns away as if she hadn’t heard you. Instead of responding, she turns around and walks towards a discarded table. Her eyes land on something. Picking it up, she holds up one of Dustin’s radios. “If we go to East Hawkins, will this reach Pennhurst?”

Dustin informs her that it will while Steve is hesitant. “Why are we talking about East Hawkins?”

Max stares at him, and at the same time, you and Steve realize what she’s asking: she wants to leave the Wheeler home. “No!” You both say, but Max is already grabbing her backpack and walkman. Cursing, you follow after her.

“Max, wait!” She’s frustratingly fast and it isn’t until you’re outside that you catch up to her. Grabbing her arm, you force her to stop. “Hey, listen to me–’

“I’m not driving you anywhere.” Steve cuts through, frantic as well. Lucas and Dustin trail behind, not at all willing to argue with Max.

“If the two of you think I’m going to spend what is likely the last day of my life in the armpit that is Mike Wheeler’s basement, then you’re out of your mind.” Max rips her arm from your grasp and marches towards Steve’s car.

“If you would just listen, I can–” But again Max interrupts you.

“Either take me where I need to go or tie me down, which is technically kidnapping of a minor.”

Steve looks at you in bewilderment at what Max has said, but you’re too busy running after her and huffing with annoyance. “Steve has already kidnapped a minor, he’s a professional at this point.”

“Hey!”

Max continues towards the car. “Well then tell your boyfriend that if I live to see another day, I swear to God, I will prosecute.” She tries to open the door, but it’s locked. “Open the door.”

Steve looks at her as if she’s insane. “Uh, no.”

“I know a good lawyer.”

“Where the hell are you meeting good lawyers in Hawkins?” You shove yourself in between them and glare at Max. You shake your head at her. “Anyways, if you had stopped for five seconds, I would’ve told you that I agree with you and that I would talk to Steve for you.”

Max looks at you, surprised. “Wait, you’re freeing me?”

“Okay, the Wheeler basement isn’t a prison, but yes.” You turn to Steve, who has already started to protest. “And as for you, you’re going to do what Max says.”

“But–”

“No.”

“Y/N!”

“Unlock the car, Steve.”

He stares at you. You stare back, standing your ground. Max crosses her arms and joins you, daring Steve to argue. He sees the tension in your jaw, the determined look in your eyes, and he throws his head back and groans. “God, I hate this.”

You smile at him evilly; you knew he’d give in. “Keys, please.”

Steve digs through his pocket and tosses the keys to you, annoyed. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever.”

You unlock the door and beckon for Max to get in. She thanks you, and you wink at her. Skipping over to the passenger’s side, you get in with grand flourish, leaving Steve alone with the boys.

Lucas smirks and Dustin outright laughs in Steve’s face. “Dude, she so owns you.”

“Zip it,” he snaps his fingers. He doesn’t at all have the energy for this. “Little Henderson, that super walkie of yours better reach Pennhurst.”

And with one last threatening glare at your brother, Steve finally gets into the car. The engine roars to life. Soon, the Wheeler’s home fades into the distance.

–

The air in the car is tense.

Lucas, Dustin, and Max all sit in the back while you sit next to Steve. He’s playing one of his old mixes and the music is the only sound within the car. Max stares out the window, turned away from everyone.

When Steve pulls up in front of her trailer, he parks the car and faces her. “This better be fast, Mayfield.” “Steve!” You hit his arm, berating him. “She’s here for her mother.” “It’s fine, Y/N.” Max unbuckles her seatbelt and gets out. “I’ll be twenty seconds.”

The door slams and you pull out your own walkman. You’re anxious, being alone with the boys. You know they want to ask you a million questions, but for the first time in your life, you don’t think you have it in you to lie to them for their own comfort.

Before you can hit play on Jonathan’s mixtape, you feel multiple pairs of eyes on you. Looking up, you find that you’re once again being stared at by Steve, Dustin, and Lucas. “What?”

Your brother clears his throat. “No, uh. Visions yet?”

“No, Dustin.” Though you both know that if it did happen, you wouldn’t tell him. Putting on your headphones, you push play and allow the music to slowly creep over you. The conversation ends there.

Steve says something to Dustin, you don’t hear nor pay attention to it. The Beatles sing and you can finally breathe. You miss Jonathan more than anything, but the pain of missing him is now tainted with the ache of guilt.

After a few minutes, unable to sit still, you all stand outside Steve’s car and wait. Your foot taps the ground and Steve checks his watch every few seconds. When you see Max round the corner, you sigh with relief.

“Hey, that was longer than twenty seconds.” Steve says, relief flooding his own voice.

You’re about to tease her, but then you realize how pale she is. She doesn’t look good, her breathing is irregular and she’s fighting back tears. Worried, you try to stop her. “Woah, what happened? Are you okay?”

Only Max storms past you and flings herself into the car. “I’m fine, just drive.”

“Is she…?” Steve looks at you helplessly. He doesn’t know what the right call here is. Max is clearly upset about something, she’s visibly shaking, and yet she still insists on pretending that she’s fine.

All you can do is shake your head at Steve, just as helpless. “I don’t know, but we just… We have to be there for her.”

He nods solemnly before getting back into the car. Before he drives away, Lucas asks Max if something happened, and again she lies through her teeth. You try to catch her eye in the rearview mirror, but she adamantly stares out the window once more.

Soon the only sound in the car is Max giving quiet directions. With every instruction she gives Steve, the more the string in your chest constricts. You’re going deeper and deeper into west Hawkins. It’s mostly woods, Hopper’s cabin is closeby.

It’s also where the cemetery resides.

“Turn here.”

Dustin looks at Max, reluctant. “Here?”

She nods as the Roane Hill Cemetery sign greets everyone. Steve inhales deeply, but he doesn’t say anything as he turns. You grip the edge of the seat, bile rising in your throat. It’s been a long time since you’ve been here.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” You ask Max, breathing through your nose to try and settle the ache in your stomach.

She doesn’t acknowledge your question; she jumps out of the car as soon as it stops. Before you can run after her, Lucas is already scrambling to follow her. He chases after her, says something to her, but you can’t hear anything.

“What’s going on, why did Max take us here?” Steve risks touching your arm, seeking any source of solace from you that he can.

Your hands shake slightly. Steve can feel it, and he tightens his grip around you. He tries to get you to look at him, but you can’t face him. Not now. Not yet. Instead, you keep your eyes on Max. “This is where Billy is buried.”

Steve sucks in a breath and Dustin closes his eyes. Neither of them ask you how you know this. They didn’t attend his funeral, but you did.

You’d held Max’s hand as Billy’s casket was lowered into the earth.

You’re torn from your thoughts when Lucas comes back to the car. He’s upset. You look up and see Max walking towards the tombstones. There’s a letter in her hand. You know who it’s meant for.

She’s gone for a while. The minutes go by with agonizing latency. Steve remains in the car, tapping his fingers against his window anxiously. His watch never leaves his line of sight. You stand next to Dustin outside, too nervous and overwhelmed to sit right now.

Lucas sits perched on the hood of the car. He stares straight ahead. Max is just barely visible over the hill. Her back is turned towards you, she faces a tombstone. It’s lighter than the others, not yet darkened by weather and age.

It’s Billy’s tombstone.

The grief of losing a sibling is a chasm, endless and void of everything whole. Without thinking, you reach for Dustin’s hand. He lets you, squeezing your hand, as if thinking what you are.

The rise and fall of Max’s shoulders tells you that she’s talking to someone. That she’s talking to him, and it’s almost too intimate of a moment to watch. You feel terribly guilty, but you also can’t look away. You’re terrified that if you do, she’ll somehow disappear.

After nearly ten minutes, Steve glances down at his watch and curses. “Alright, it’s been long enough.”

He opens the car door and gets out, slamming it behind him. The action startles you, puts you on high alert. Lucas protests, insisting that you give Max more time, but Steve doesn’t listen. “I’m calling it. If she wants to get a lawyer, she can.”

“I’m coming with you,” breaking away from Dustin, you follow after Steve. You respect Max’s wishes, but he’s right. It’s been too long. Turning towards the other boys, you give them a weary look. “Stay here, please?”

Lucas doesn’t like this. “But–”

“We’ll be right back.” You promise him, running after Steve up the hill.

He’s already reached the crest of the hill by the time you catch up. He jogs towards Max, whose back is pin straight. She’s eerily still, almost too still, and immediately you start to feel panic crawl up your neck.

“Max, time to giddy up, yeah?” Steve stops in front of her, but the sincerity in his voice is quickly replaced with fear. Max’s eyes are rolled back, she doesn’t respond to any of Steve’s touches. He bends down, shakes her. “Max? Max!”

She’s in the same trance as last night. You drop down next to her, knees scraping against the grass below you. “Max, sweetheart.” Cupping her face, you gently try to bring her back to you, but she’s as cold as ice.

“Max!” Steve claps his hands in front of her face. He’s yelling now, just as scared as you are. “Hey, wake up!”

“Max!” Over and over again her name rips from your mouth as tears coat your face. You scream and cry and shake her lifeless body, begging her to wake up. To say something, to smile at you, to argue with you and push you away.

Anything. You’ll take anything. Just as long as she’s alive.

Steve shakes her shoulders almost as violently as you do. Choking on terror, you scream down to Lucas and Dustin. “Help! Help us!”

Your hands are joined by Lucas’. The two of you scream Max’s name. Vecna has her. You’ve failed, she’s going to die because of you. You hadn’t followed her, you should’ve made her stay with you back at Steve’s car. It’s your fault, it’s always your fault.

“Max, you gotta get out of there!” Lucas cries, gripping the girl’s skin harshly. But still she doesn’t respond. “Can you hear me?”

“Please.” Your voice is hoarse, you don’t even know what you’re pleading for. All you know is that Vecna has her, that Max is about to die. And you can’t do anything.

Steve grabs Dustin’s jacket roughly and yanks him forward. “Call Nancy and Robin! Go get them, call them. Go.”

You watch as your brother falls, frantically picking himself back up as he runs down to where his radio is. You’re choking on your own breath, hyperventilating. Lucas’ screams deafen you, Steve’s pleas echo your own. It’s a grim, helpless situation.

Nancy and Robin have to know something. They’re the only option you have left. You can’t lose Max. You can’t fucking lose her. Not after everything. She’s too young. She’s too young. It should be you instead.

“Take me,” you scream into the sky, voice cracking. The taste of blood fills your mouth. “Just-just take me! Leave her alone, I’m-I’m right here. Please.”

Steve’s grip on Max loosens slightly, he looks up at you, alarmed, but Dustin suddenly returns with an armful of cassettes and Max’s walkman. “Guys!”

He slides onto the ground, you quickly make room for him even though you have no idea why he’s brought all of Max’s music. “What-what are you doing?”

“What’s her favorite song?” Dustin demands, out of breath.

“Why?” Lucas doesn’t move.

“Robin said if she listens–” He stumbles over his words, his mind is all over the place. “It-it’s too much to explain now. What’s her favorite song?”

Dustin is screaming and in your blind fear, your mind can’t catch up. You can’t think of Max’s favorite song, you know everything about her. What her favorite color is, her favorite ice cream flavor, her deepest fear. And yet you don’t fucking know what her favorite song is.

“I–” You can’t breathe. You wrack your mind, you try to come up with something, anything. But you can’t. Steve and the others rustle through the cassettes, their voices overlap and everyone talks at once.

“Lucas, which one is it?” Steve exclaims, flipping over the tapes in vain. “What's her favorite song?”

Your mind goes back to winter. To when the cold burned your lungs and the snow quieted your fears. It was Christmas, Lucas had wanted you to check up on Max. He’d been worried about her. When you visited her, she’d had her walkman on, volume on the highest setting.

You remember asking what she’d been listening to. It’d been an innocent question, then. Nothing more than a simple formality, a way to get Max to open up to you. Feel more calm around you.

But now it could be what prevents you from losing Max forever.

“Kate Bush!” Screaming, you dig through the cassettes yourself. “Her favorite song is by Kate Bush.”

Lucas finds the only tape by her and he quickly removes it from its case. He screams at Steve to take it and hand it over to Dustin. They move in a blur, Dustin slides the headphones over Max’s ears and your finger presses play.

Kate Bush’s voice erupts from the speakers. Max still doesn’t move, her eyes remain rolled back. But that’s it. The music is all you can do.

Everyone shouts over the music, there isn’t anything else that can be done. Lucas holds her hand, he doesn’t let go of her. “Max, we’re right here!”

“Come back,” you cry, hands pressed against her face. “Sweetheart, Max–”

Her body begins to levitate.

Your entire world collapses.

“No!” You scream, vocal chords tearing.

Your hands grasp at the air, you try to jump, you try to reach her. You try to do something, anything, to save her. Steve clutches you against him, holds you against his chest, scared you’ll hurt yourself. But you don’t care. Lucas screams behind you, Dustin cries for his friend. You throw yourself at Max, over and over again.

But Max is just out of reach, dangerously high, and all you can do is watch.

Her body constricts, her neck snaps back in a sickening manner. She starts to convulse, just how Billy did the night the Mind Flayer killed him. It’s happening again. All the air leaves your lungs. Max’s body dangles before you, taunts you.

Then, just as suddenly as it began, her body falls. You and Steve break her fall as she crumbles onto the grass, just barely managing to protect her head. “Max!”

She’s awake, gasping for air. Lucas cradles her body as she cries. She can’t speak, her hands clutch at any part of Lucas that she can reach. He pulls her close, his head rests against hers. He’s crying, too. “I thought we lost you.”

“I’m still-I’m still here,” Max chokes out. “I’m still here.”

“You’re never leaving.” You gasp out, holding her hand. She’s warm again. Her flesh doesn’t numb yours anymore. “I’m not-I’m not letting you leave us.”

Max cries, your promise heavy against her. You brush back her hair, your tears mix with hers. Steve’s arm wraps around you and Dustin’s head rests against your shoulder. You all hover over Max, almost as if instinctively shielding her.

She’s still here.

The sun begins to set.

⌑ series masterlist

⌑ i am no longer doing a taglist, my apologies ! however, please feel free to like, reblog, and comment instead :)

#steve harrington x henderson!reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #stranger things #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things rewrite #slowburn #angst #bdyr #m's writing #the ending to dear billy always makes me cry

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bks-writing-adventures · 3 months ago

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Little Dancer (Aemond Targaryen X Lannister! Reader)

Summary: A wholesome little journey between the first time Aemond met his wife to the birth of their children.

Warnings: Mentions of childbirth, brief mentions of sex.

Aemond never thought he would be a father. He never even thought he would get married, until you came around at a ball. He forgot what it was, a name day of his nephews? Some celebration for his parents marriage? None of it mattered, because he sat still at his family table, watching the room dance and watching lords get drunk and stupid. And all of a sudden you had blocked his view, your hands on either side of his plate.

“Do all Princes sit pouting at balls?” You asked. The question flustered him, his one eye meeting yours. It was like you were challenging him, and the thought made his heart spin in his chest.

“Only when he has no one to dance with.” He answered. The words magically came to him, and he held his breath as he had waited for you to respond.

“It is a good thing I am here then, is it not? Or would you rather sit here, eating scraps and wishing to be elsewhere?” You were so teasing- so confident, and before he knew it, his hand was wrapped around yours, and you were walking backward as you dragged him to the dancefloor. He did not have the time to be self conscious, and he could no longer let his eye wander as his hands landed on yours, spinning you, watching how your skirts swished and your hair got fluffy and frizzed.

“So who are you, my little dancer?” He asked softly, holding you closer to him. You were warm, and he couldn’t tell what was making his heart pound. Your presence or the wine, or maybe an intoxicating blend of both.

“(Y/N) Lannister,” You answered, licking your lips as the song ended. “If you wish to get to know me, we should move somewhere quieter,” You said gently, and he smiled as his eye wandered.

“I know a place,” He said softly, his arm linked with yours as he carefully lead you out and into the gardens. It was quite the scandalous thing, he was well aware- but he didn’t care enough to stop. His brother was far from proper, he was a criminal and a disappointment. Speaking to a pretty girl in the garden would not be the worst crime. The garden hiccuped with the sounds of grasshoppers and frogs, and you smiled at the sound.

“Do you know what that sound is?” You asked softly, and he gave you a curious look as you walked further into the great land of flowers.

“Frogs,” He said simply, to which you nodded.

“Mating frogs. Do you know how many eggs a frog can lay at once?” You asked.

“Do you tell everyone your favorite amphibians facts, or am I special?” He smiled a little, trying not to let his interest show on his face.

“There are facts much more interesting than that,” You answered, and for a few minutes, the two of you simply walked in the quiet.

“How many eggs can a dragon lay?” You asked.

“You take an interest in dragons, My Lady?” He asked in return, to which you nodded. He quietly sat on a bench, pulling you down to sit beside him. The moonlight did not do much to guide either of you, but he could make out the bridge of your nose and the slight shine of your eyes in the darkness. “Well, they can lay five, at most.” He responded, wondering if that would be enough for you.

“Why is that? And what are they like?” You asked, resting your chin on your hand. You had always liked to learn about science, and this was your way in. Into the world of infinite books and knowledge. And he just had such a pretty face, which definitely helped the case.

“The eggs? They’re hard and large and scaly,” He responded, reaching over to touch your hand. It was a daring move, but he wanted to feel you. In the darkness, touch the soft skin of your hand and wrist, and you didn’t move away.

“Why is that? Are they not reptiles?” You asked quietly, and he had to lean closer to hear you.

“Dragons cannot be put into a box, My Lady. They are everything and nothing. No mortal could ever learn to understand them,” He murmured, gently guiding your hand to his mouth so he could kiss it. He wasn’t sure what it was about you that attracted him so. You were just so unconventional, untrained. It was fascinating.

“Not even Targaryens?” You asked softly as his breath tickled your fingers.

“Certainly not. We only shout commands and hope they listen,” He chuckled softly. He was about to speak again when a loud shout suddenly broke the walls of intimacy around them. For the love of Gods, this did not look good. He wasn’t sure if he pushed your hand away, or if you pulled it back, but all contact was quickly broken as the two of you rushed to stand up.

“Aemond, what is the meaning of this?” His mother sounded rather angry. She always was, whenever something like this happened. This was the worst possible time for her to wander over.

“Mother, I was simply conversing with the Lady Lannister, and-” She cut him off, making his lips purse.

“Without a chaperone, in the darkness, away from the sights of others? Do you understand how scandalous this is?” As you both shrunk under her lecture, neither of you argued back. And soon enough you and Aemond were sat before his mother and your own as they discussed.

“We did nothing unholy. We were only speaking of the anatomy of dragons,” You frowned, to which your mother quickly shook her head.

“Is that what they call it nowadays? This is out of control, and now your honor is ruined,” She huffed, and you stared down boredly at your hands. This is not how you thought your night would go, and the next sentence only made things more bizarre.

“Her honor is not ruined, and I will ensure it. I intend to make (Y/N) my wife.” Aemond spoke, making your head quickly turn. All arguments died out like a flame without air, his eye soft and apologetic as he looked at you. But neither of you could claim to be mad about it. It was only the Gods’ odd way of making a match, and the next days were full of shy conversation and blushing cheeks, loomed over by your parents as they dissected every interaction.

“I have a gift for you,” he said softly, pulling out a large book from his bag. It was bigger than your head, and the spine as so thick it could easily be mistaken for a brick.

“Wow,” You mumbled, trying to read the front cover, but it is not in Common. Your eyes looked to his face, a curious look taking over your own.

“It is in High Valyrian, its one of the oldest books in our library- well, not that one, that is a copy. The original would crumble like sand in your palms. But the language will be important for you to learn, I thought we could practice together,” He spoke, getting a little shy. It was a sweet sight, and you nodded as he explained.

“Then you should allow me to teach you some Nyvia.” You responded. His brows scrunched a little. He had never heard of the language in his life.

“And what is that?” He asked gently, intrigued. He didn’t realize you were bilingual, too.Your children would be an interesting batch.

“My mothers first language. It is dying out, not many speak it anymore. Are you familiar with the island of Nyav?” You asked, and he nodded slowly. He had read about it in history books. It had been a brilliant place of beautiful plants and even more beautiful people. The stories said that it was lost to the sea, or to conquering, no one was sure. You were like a God of the old world, sitting right before him.

“She lived there as a young girl, escaped before it disappeared, when she was betrothed to my father. I will admit that my own speaking is messy, but at least it is alive,” You spoke, slowly opening the book he had given you. You squinted a little. The letters were familiar, but the order was unlike anything you had ever seen. The longer he looked at you, the more questions formed in his head.

“Do you think you have any Valyrian in you?” He asked. Nyvia had belonged to no one at all, no one knew where the people came from, only that they had not been there all along. Perhaps it had begun with Targaryen’s fleeing the Doom, or other Valyrians that escaped to the sea and washed upon its shores.

“I do not think so. I do not look the part,” You reminded him, watching as his hand inched closer to yours, your fingertips brushing. It was perhaps the most touch you would be allowed until after you were married.

“White hair does not make a Valyrian. It was only a thought,” He said, gently shrugging. His mind wandered to your children, the ones he would have with you. How many there would be. If they would have hair like yours, or hair like his own. How they would look on dragonback, and if you could all fly together as a family. Vhagar was more than big enough for two. You could hold his waist, and he would fly ahead of the children, and they would follow him like ducklings. Maybe you would have 12 children, one for every moon of the year. He cleared his throat as his mother called for him. Your meeting was done for the day. And when two more moons passed, it was finally your wedding day. Your dress clung to every part of your body, and your hair was covered with a heavy veil, beaded with pearls and gems big enough to pay off an entire house.

The maids had tried to get you to agree to having pinned hair, or a more tradition style, but you declined. You never liked having too much on you, weighing you down. The air was stuffy with the breath of hundreds, and you tried not to look at the crowd as Aemond stood before you. “Kessa sagon sȳz. Laesi va nyke.” He murmured softly, and you nodded as your eyes studied his face. He was wearing his fanciest eyepatch. You wondered how many were in his collection, and if you would ever see him without it. If he slept with it on. As you both repeated the words of the Septon, and it came time for the kiss- you stared at each other for a long, awkward few seconds, trying to figure out which one of you would lean in first. You may have been brave enough to approach him that first night, when he was just a sulking stranger. But now things were so much bigger. You had an audience.

Finally, once he accepted you would not be the one to do it, he leaned down to press a brief, awkward kiss on your mouth, and you both parted with small, sheepish smiles. Once you were at your table, you both let out deep breaths from your lungs, and finally,you could curl up together, your arms looped around his as you giggled into his sleeve. “That was unbearable,” Your words were light, but the hit was strong, and he chuckled awkwardly. He had hoped the kiss was not that bad. But he felt a wave of uncertainty rushing into him. The first kiss was supposed to be magical, like you were bathing in fire and pureness and all that was good. But it felt like a child smushing two dolls together.

He only hoped that with time, things would get better. And oh, how they certainly did. The bedchamber was full of soft sounds, and for every moan came ten laughs and raised brows. “Mm.. you sound like you are being murdered,” He murmured into your shoulder, and you smiled as you squeeze his hand.

“And you sound like you’ve run 30 miles,” You responded as he panted onto your skin.

“Oh, hush,” He smiled, gently biting your neck.

“Little vampire,” You mumbled before he gently guided your face down to a pillow. He did not expect anything to come of your night of teasing and touch, but when six weeks had passed, he woke in the morning to you squirming from his arms.

“It is too early for you to wake.” He grumbled. He had been an early bird before your marriage, before he was up into the early hours of dawn inside you, kissing you, teaching you High Valyrian as you tried to teach him Nyvia.

“Yoane,” He spoke, and you shook your head.

“Yo-awn-ee.” You repeated, and he tried once more.

“Yoane,” He nodded, and you groaned into your hands.You were trying to teach him the words for love, your face pink with laughter. But as you rushed to the bathroom, your face took on an almost gray hue, and he found himself holding your hair in a big bundle as you spittled into the chamberpot, your belly soft and your nose sensitive. You were with child, or perhaps three or four, for when you reached your second trimester, you were a giant.

“Mmm… you are like a dragon,” He mumbled as he kissed upon your stretched skin.

“How so?” You asked softly, caressing his hair as his cheek pressed onto your belly.

“You are going to lay a whole clutch. You must have three or four in here,” He marveled at the size of you, and you rolled your eyes.

“I am telling your mother that you said that,” You responded, making his brows scrunch together.

“You would not dare.” In the months of your marriage, Queen Alicent had grown quite attached to you. While she loved her son, she had always found him to be rather an intense man. She wasn’t afraid of him, no, but she never thought he would find marriage. Find joy. She thought he would grow old and become a knight or a philosopher, and she was quite pleased with you for bringing out these new parts of him. And so, if she learned of his comments of your size, she would beat him messy with a sock. When you were finally about to burst at the seams, you learned that there were things far more stressful than a wedding day. It was like everyone wanted to see your baby plop out, Alicent walking the room as they propped your legs off.

“Would you mind leaving the room? This is a rather private matter,” Aemond spoke to his mother in a hushed voice, to which she gently shook her head.

“And I am to be the grandmother of this child. I am close family, am I not? This is a huge deal for you, my youngest son having his first child!!” She gushed, and you shifted uncomfortably.

“It may be hours before the baby arrives,” You groaned quietly, pushing the small wooden tools away from your legs. “I do not wish for too many to see my blood and my mess,” Your eyes held a certain fire, and your jaw clenched, and slowly her face filled with an understanding, nodding slowly. You were no Rhaenyra, and you were no enemy. You were her daughter in law, the wife of her youngest son. And so quietly, she left the room, leaving you to the midwives, the maesters, and your husband.

“Perhaps you would like to leave, My Prince. It is not necessary for the husband to stay,” One of the Maesters spoke, to which you quickly shouted.

“If you leave me I will ensure that you never get to hold the baby.” You said quickly.

“I would not dream of it, my dearest,” He responded, coming closer so you could hold his hand. Several hours passed of loud noises and angry shouts, little crescent moons cut into his hand from your grasp. Child after child escaped your womb, until a whole batch of seven was swaddled. The midwives had to call for backup to tend to all the children, each of them around five pounds. It was a concerning miracle, and Aemond’s eye widened as he stared at all the squirming infants.

“By the seven..” He murmured, quite literally. A child for every god. What a miracle it was. His heart fluttered with fear as he reached out to one of the infants, the only girl, her hand slowly curling around his finger. It was beautiful and scary all at once, like a comet scratching the sky. It was all so very real all of a sudden, his breath catching in his throat as his eye watered.

“Are they all healthy?” You asked softly, sitting up slowly, your hands curling up. “Yes,” One of your handmaids quickly told you.

“Small but mighty, they are all warm and crying,” She spoke, wiping sweat from your face. You smiled, taking a deep breath, your eyes slightly puffy as two of the babies were placed on your chest. Two of the boys, one with hair like your own, and the other with a head of snow, little curls still damp from birth. “Look at his little swirly wirlies.” You mumbled, and Aemond chuckled as he leaned over, two of the babies in his own arms. One with gingery Hightower hair, the other with hair like his own. What the litter you had. “How many girls?” You asked softly, reaching to gently take the blankets off, but Aemond answered you before you had to use your energy.

“Just the one,” He said softly, placing her on your belly. The two of you laid in the bed for hours, covered in babies on every limb and surface. It was a mess, a loud swarm of little coos and crying. But neither of you had ever been happier. Aemond never thought he’d be a good father, but he sure could do his best.

Thank you to everyone who reads!! Feel free to send in requests :)

-BK ♡

#house of the dragon #aemond x oc #asoiaf #aemond fic #aemond fanfic #aemond x reader #aemond x you #aemond targaryen #dad! aemond

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shima-draws · 2 years ago

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Stoick, to Toothless: How’s our dragon warrior?

Me:

#SC R E AMS #We don’t really get to see a lot of Stoick Toothless interactions in HTTYD 2 #So seeing Stoick affectionately call him that 😭#ALSO HIM SAYING ‘OUR’ DRAGON WARRIOR #Toothless is not just Hiccup’s dragon warrior. He is ALSO Stoick’s dragon warriorr #I’M EMO #Pulls out a sign that says CHARACTER GROWTH #Hiccup and Stoick love their big scaly baby so much.#Also again may I reiterate how fucking EMOTIONAL I get about Stoick’s interactions with Thornado #UHFHHFHDH. UGH #Shima speaks #HTTYD #How To Train Your Dragon

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eccentricallygothic · 5 months ago

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Depraved Old Man!John Price | Soap's Girl!You.

Description: Johnny gets too reckless on a mission this time around and gets booted off the team. Now only you can convince the Captain to revoke his decision.

Warning(s): Noncon, dubcon, naive!reader, corruption kink, groping, coercion, dacryphilia, dark!Captain Price, dark!Soap, size kink, fear kink, fingering, forced kissing, misogyny, infantilization, sir kink, handjob, they're unsavoury men. Minors do not interact.

“Go on, baby” you feel a strong nudge on your shoulder from behind, causing for your smaller form to go tumbling forwards and face first into the ominous door in front of you. “Oh, shit. I–” Johnny whips you towards him to hurriedly get a look at you before examining you and rubbing the tip of your nose where he thinks you got hurt. “I am sorry, baby. But it's okay. I promise it'll be fine. But you have to be strong for me, okay?” The beads glimmering in your eyes sting them just a bit more and your bottom lip wobbles at the mention of the horrendous prospect. “Go on, the Captain is a nice man. Just show him some of that sweet love of yours and he will be good to us” before you can attempt to plead for him to reconsider, you have been pushed into the room and forced to come face to face with none other than the man you dread the most in this world right now. The door clicks shut behind you.

John Price's gaze feels nearly scrutinizing as you nibble on your bottom lip while trembling in your frilly little dress, the tips of your fingers folded over the extremely high hem that you try to extend by pulling at it but in vain. Silence pervades the scene for you have no idea how long before the man finally speaks.

“Well, love, come on over here, then.” Your heart drops as the little bit of hope you were desperately clinging on to extinguishes. Johnny was Johnny and you had signed up for the kind of man he was when you decided to stay with him despite his flaws but from a man of Price's station you expected something else.

Something better.

Johnny got too reckless this time around and got booted off the team by the Captain. Since he never tells you work related stuff -like he ever tells you anything serious at all- because ‘those’ ugly things aren't for little girls like you to know, you have no idea what exactly happened but it turned out that though you were too simple minded to know what happened, you weren't too small to be pimped out to your boyfriend's boss like this.

Since you have tried to get Johnny to reconsider this every time you possibly could ever since he told you you were going to be doing this for him like a good girl supports her man and his colleagues have always terrified you because of how capable they are for any and all kinds of destruction, you hiss in a hiccup and let your wobbly steps carry you to the old man.

Price is sitting in a big office chair behind a heavy wooden table, mighty and intimidating yet agreeable with his smile that is almost kind. You would have believed it like the impressionable fool you are if it weren't for the clouds of darkness that are threatening to burst out of his eyes, the light orbs looking you up and down everywhere except for your eyes with a chilling hunger.

It is after your dignity is wholly mortified and you decide you cannot feel any more shame than this does he pat his lap as a silent gesture for you.

“Hey, hey, hey, little thing” the material of his uniform is harsh under the exposed skin of your ass when you sit down, the sensation causing you to have a moment of realization all over again and a tear threatens to spill down your cheek but you catch it just in time. “It's okay, we are all friends here, angel. No need to cry, it's okay” you are tense and uncomfortable as you try to shrink in on yourself but one of his rough hands wrapping against the curve of your hip to push you into his hard chest doesn't help. The stiff tent in his pants touches you next and you cannot help but flinch as a hushed cry tries to crawl its way out of your throat.

Unbeknownst to you, it only works up the man even more and he speaks to you in the most comforting of tones. “I get it, you're scared of the big Captain, aren't you, love? Never had much of an interaction, you and I, did we?” You barely understand him as you're too focused on trying to keep your tears at bay like Johnny ordered you to. No crying and no pleading. That was the rule if you wanted your man to keep his job. And you were a good girl and future wife. So you would do whatever it took.

“I know what we need to do” your hands that helplessly lie clasped in your own lap clench and twitch when he suddenly kneads your skin where he is holding your hip. “Easy now” he warns when your legs defensively try to force you to stand and your body freezes before you even register his words. Price sighs unhappily. “I was told you were okay with this. I don't like my girls unwilling and unappreciative. You can go” your eyes widen in horror as everything Johnny had warned you against plays in your head at full volume and you go into a panic, shaking your head vehemently and trying to reassure him in as much voice as you could muster, desperately trying to convince him that you wanted this.

Price ‘contemplates’ you for a couple moments and the suspense is enough to send you into a cardiac arrest because of how erratic it makes your heart. But then;

“Yeah? Are you sure?” You timidly nod. “Then what're those tears for?” The side of his mouth quirks up when you quickly wipe them away and shake your head wordlessly. “... No? Not scared…?” He talks to you like one would a child and your cheeks burn even hotter in humiliation.

“A- A little…” You manage to squeak out as a measure of carefulness because he appears a bit dissatisfied with your response.

Johnny's words ring in your head. Keep the Captain satisfied no matter what.

And your response seems to do the trick for he faintly smiles, a bit proudly even. “A little, huh?” You timidly nod again.

“Y- Yes, sir…” His eyes visibly darken at that.

“You see” his fingers caress your hip gently. “I've got just the solution for it” you can barely see his face due to the haze of your thick tears burning your eyes. “Want to know what it is?” You have no choice.

So you nod in agreement. “Y- Yes, sir…” You feel a brief twitch in the lap he has you perched on.

“There's a good girl” praise doesn't make you feel better, for once. “Well, you see, love. It's rather simple, really” his rough hand cups your face briefly to wipe at your tears and a shiver runs down your spine due to the stark difference between his meticulous touch and Johnny's reckless one. That, however, is not to say his is better. There is a lingering quality to it. A sickening coarseness. A dark manliness which contrasts the good natured boyishness of your lover's, however clumsy he may be. “We just need to familiarize ourselves to each other” your bottom lip wobbles involuntarily and his eyes flicker to it. His Adam's apple bobs as he swallows. “Want to know how we are going to do that?”

“... Y- Yes, Captain” you don't notice it but it causes for the tent in his pants to become even more visible.

“Bring that little thing here” you tremble as he takes your smaller hand in his much bigger one and takes it to his beard, the sensory shock of his coarse hairs digging into your pampered fingertips making you gasp with a flinch. Price's chest reverberates in silent mirth. “Just like that, love. Easy does it” you let him guide you as you meekly scratch the thick scruff, your nails nearly disappearing in the dark mass. “There now, all better, isn't it?” You try to return his smile but you can literally feel the awkward shape in which your lips are twisted due to how uncomfortable you are.

Next he nudges your hand closer to his mustache and the second you do it, one of his heavy hands clamp on the bumps of your chest and you audibly flinch. But before you can even attempt to move away, the hand he has on your hip steels itself into your skin. But his friendly behavior doesn't change. Not on the surface, at least.

“See? This is why we need to do this” a tear finally outweighs your eyesocket's bearing capacity and pushes its way down your lashes and all the way to your chin. His grip almost makes you cringe away and the way he gently kneads your boob doesn't do anything for you. “So when we are familiarized, you won't be so scared of your Captain and we can have a good time like friends do” and you have no choice but to sit there and scratch his beard and stroke his mustache while he ‘gently’ feels you up.

“Hmm…” He muses after a couple long horrible moments have passed. “What about a little kiss, angel?” Your eyes widen and your body trembles. Oh no. Johnny is the only man you ever want to kiss. This is so wrong. “Come here” you try to stiffen your back and go to plant a firm hand on his chest but your boyfriend's cautionary words ring in your ears again.

His chance, his career...

You cannot fuck this up for him.

No.

Good girls support their men.

“Yes, Cap–” you force yourself to not retch when his lips touch yours, the bristles of his mustache causing you to jerk your head back as your eyes crinkle shut, the back of your hand slapping against your lips to swipe at them the moment he pulls away to get rid of the ticklish sensation.

Price's huge form vibrates again. “Not used to a real man kissing you, are ya, angel?” You gulp at how intimidatingly deep his voice sounds.

“N- No, sir…” So he beckons you closer again. So you can familiarize yourself with it. Your eyes lower in shame and disgust as you cup one side of his face, feeling a waterfall erupt from the corner of your eyes as you peck his lips over and over since he keeps ordering you with low, ‘one more, one more, one more…’s

It is not that he tastes bad. In fact, he tastes much better than you expected -if you ever even thought about it in your wildest of moments- any man other than Johnny to taste. Dare you say… better than your lover, even.

But you have only ever had eyes for your boyfriend.

And this is sickening, terrible, revolting…

But you don't have a choice. You must be good. You must obey. Must support. Johnny is also human. And he made a mistake. That shouldn't cost him his career. It's almost unbelievable how this kind looking man is capable of such cruelty.

In a matter of minutes, the length of your neck has been felt up in his strong fist, the pink lace strings which held your dress on your shoulders have been slid off, the swells of your chest has been fished out of the neckline of your dress and thoroughly groped, the hem has been pushed all the way up to your waist, your legs have been pushed apart, your underwear rests on your ankles and Price's hand is knuckles deep between your slick coated thighs.

“C- Captain!” You let out a choked out cry as you tremble, violated and stuffed full of his fingers. “P- Please!” Your back arches as you clutch his knee for support, sparks of pleasure overwhelming your pussy when the rough pad of his thumb finds your clit before swiping against it slowly while two of his fingers squish their way in and out of your tight cunt.

“Please what, love?” Price is breathless as he grunts in pleasure.

You sob from the sensitivity and helplessness of your situation. “M- More, please!” You don't want this. But he has you so worked up you cannot think of anything else anymore. It feels too good. You must cum. There is no other way.

Price hums deeply. “Keep working that pretty little hand and I'll give you all that you need, angel” you obediently nod as you desperately speed up your fist that is wrapped around his hard cock. “I didn't think a thing as small as you could make a mess this big, love. But look at you” his pants are drenched in your juices and sweat. “Leaking yourself stupid for your Captain” you shamelessly moan out loud, albeit against your will, when you feel his middle finger graze against your g-spot.

“S- Sir!” More hot pearls of precum bubble out of the apex of his swollen tip and trickle down to meet your curled fingers, aiding the movement of your hand.

“Tell me, angel, has he ever made you feel like your Captain is?” You realized it a while ago that Price does not care if Johnny can hear you. Hell, sometimes he speaks so loud -like right now- it feels as if the older man wants him to.

You shake your head, crazed with need and lust. “N- No, no sir he hasn't!” You tell yourself you're only following the orders you were given.

Keep the Captain satisfied no matter what.

“Aw, a girl as pretty as you deserves everything, angel. Why not?” It is the way his cock twitches in your fist can you tell this is getting him off.

“S- Said– ah!” The tight band of your entrance tries to shut in on itself but his firm fingers roughly fucking in and out of you deny it its desire.

You're so close.

“Go on then, angel” you let the base of your palm linger on his ballsack to massage it and he grunts before mumbling out a praise.

“Said s- sex is the g- girl's way of t- thanking her man for taking c- care of her and loving her, sir!” You repeat Johnny's words that he has told you since day one. “So she l- lets him do whatever he pleases like a good girl!” Price chuckles before clicking his tongue.

“That little bastard told you that, did he?” You nod as you feel all your muscles pulling taut like they do sometimes when Johnny makes love to you nicely. “Tsk, tsk. That is no way to treat a sweetheart like yourself… Maybe you need someone better, huh? Someone older–”

“CAPTAIN!” Your vision fills with neon blots and a faint ringing dominates your hearing. The speed of your fist goes rather lax but his seed that bursts out soon after and seeps down his length to coat your fingers is a relief. Because the intensity of undeniably the best orgasm you have ever had has relaxed your muscles way too much for you to be coherent anymore. Your body collapses tiredly against his broad battle hardened chest and your gaze fixates on a spot on the floor, your cum covered hand lazily stroking him to milk him empty.

“You like the idea that much?” Price snickers as he pulls you closer before burying his nose in your hair to breathe in your scent, his own back relaxing against the leather chair now. The man does nothing to pull his fingers out of you, his thumb still turtling along the width of your clit while his free hand strokes your bare ass. “Hm?”

“H- Huh?” You let out a puzzled sound, fucked too stupid to make sense of anything.

“My, my, angel. Just what am I going to do with you, hm?”

You're too exhausted to look up but your heart faintly jumps.

He is not done with you?

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kyu-piddy · 6 months ago

Text

The mark of a soulmate

Small drabbles about meeting your soulmate.

Gn reader x Silver, Rook, Trey, Sebek, Kalim

Tw: None

2.5k words

Soulmates. A strange concept to you, but not to the residents of this strange world. Will you find yours?

When you came through that mirror, to this strange place of Twisted wonderland, you could feel a sting on your wrist. A small pain, like a sting of a needle, and then it was gone. When you had looked down at it, you had seen an intricate design. Curious about it, you asked the headmage.

“That is the mark of a soulmate! My, are they not common where you’re from?”

You shook your head.

“Not to worry. I’ll explain it to you, for I am so kind.”

“That mark is proof that out there, there is someone who is your other half. Their soul and yours complements each other in a way that no one else can. Meeting them will make you love the world just because it has them in it. Some people have multiple soulmates, others have platonic soulmates, but the most common is a romantic soulmate, and looking from your mark, it seems you have a romantic soulmate, and they’re rather close by. The mark gets darker and more defined the closer you are to them.”

With so much information, you could feel your head spinning. A soulmate? Such a thing really existed in this strange world you had been thrust upon by a dark carriage?

You stared at the headmage with a confused expression.

“Oh, you doubt me! How can you think that of your headmaster?”

You sighed.

“But how would I even know who my soulmate is?”

“You’ll feel it.”

“Feel it?”

The headmaster nodded.

“You’ll feel something pulling at your heart. Like a string.”

It all still felt like bogus to you, but who were you to deny his words? In a world filled with magic and talking animals, soulmates wasn’t such a strange concept.

“A soulmate, uh? I can worry about that later. It’s not like I’ll meet them any time soon, even if they are close by. This campus is massive.”

Silver

The mark on your wrist was a beautiful sword, glimmering silver enveloped by roses and their thorns, but they weren’t menacing, more like a protection to the splendor of the weapon.

Being in this strange new world was stressful. You didn’t know any of the material in class or had any street smarts. You were a stranger in a strange land, and everyday felt like a fight to stay afloat and not lose yourself in the unknown.

It all felt so overwhelming, that you couldn’t help but run into a remote place and hide under a tree, tears streaming down your face, hiccups assaulting your body.

A gentle tap on your shoulder made your head shoot up.

You locked eyes with a beautiful silver haired stranger, his kind purple gaze making you want to cry even more.

“Are you alright?”

He asked, a voice so soft and soothing, you broke into tears again.

You wailed and wailed and the stranger remained in place, his comforting hand stroking your shoulder until all your tears dried up and you just hiccuped like a child who just had a tantrum.

You finally felt calmer, but embarrassment was settling in.

“It’s going to be okay.” said the stranger, his sweet voice resonating through your head and making any embarrassment die down.

Looking at his eyes again, now calmer than before, you could feel something. A gentle tug, a pull from your… heart?

Your eyes widened. According to the headmaster, this meant that this guy was your soulmate.

As if he could read your mind, he murmured:

“I think we might be soulmates.”

You tried to speak, but instead a hiccup left your mouth.

The stranger put a hand in his pocket and took out a white handkerchief, using it to gently dab at your eyes.

“Do not cry, soulmate. It will be alright. I’m here for you.”

And he smiled. A smile so soft it felt criminal to be the cause of it.

Your hiccups finally settled, you thanked him.

“Thank you, …?”

“Silver. My name is Silver.”

Rook

The mark on your wrist was of a bow and arrow, poised to hit its mark with staggering accuracy, but more in the way a Cupid would hit its mark, a piercing of the soul and not of the flesh.

For the first time since you had come to NRC, you had Crowley's permission to head to the local town in this mysterious isle.

You had missed the hustle and bustle of strangers of different ages, of being a face in a crowd with no connection, even if at every turn you could spot the tell tale uniform of NRC.

Wandering through the town, starry-eyed and distracted, you tripped on someone’s foot and fell, grabbing onto them and making them fall too.

“I’m so sorry! Are you okay?”

You quickly got up and offered him a hand, but he refused, getting up on his own.

“You dirtied my uniform shirt!!” he screamed at you, a frown etched onto his features.

From the color of his vest and his peerless complexion, you knew he was a Pomefiore student.

“I’m really sorry. I’ll clean it-”

He looked you up and down and sneered.

“I should have noticed immediately. You’re the magicless half a student of that rundown dorm. No need for you to touch my uniform. Your filthy hands will only dirty it further.”

Rage filled you to the brim, and you were about to give him a piece of your mind, when an arrow passed through you both and landed on his vest, right above his shoulder.

“What do we have here? An altercation between our Trickster and Monsieur étudiant? What seems to be the problem?”

A man spoke from behind you, his voice close to your ear.

The student in front of you turned as pale as a ghost.

“Vice-house warden Rook! T-t-there’s no problem! None at all! I was actually leaving to take care of my dirty uniform!”

He scurried away, not even looking back.

“What a difficile Monsieur. Such cruel words for something so little.”

You turned back, seeing a blond man with a bow and a quiver filled with arrows, a gentle smile decorating his sharp features.

“Thank you for saving me. He was being really horrible for no reason.”

He reached over to tuck a stray hair behind your ear, and you felt your heart pulse erratically beat in your chest.

“Non, non. It was my pleasure to save you, soulmate.”

Trey

The mark on your wrist was of a playing card, three green clovers dotting its white space, comfortably in each place, pieces of a puzzle missing a hidden piece, to be found by itself and no one else.

The campus of NRC was a truly gigantic thing. It felt so labyrinthic, paths and more paths crossing with each other and becoming one or diverging into many, butterfly wings of concrete and bricks.

Getting to each class felt like a wild expedition. Where would each corridor lead you next?

You mostly relied on asking others, but in a school full of villains not many would tell you the way, or worse, not many would tell you the right way.

You stared at the edge of a corridor, no path to “turn left” like that student from Scarabia had told you.

Frustration bubbled inside you and rose up, small tears threatening to slip from your eyes, but you held strong, and kept them trapped.

You turned back around and started your scavenge for your classroom again, tracing your steps to the entrance of the school building.

You counted each step in your mind, walking backwards but sometimes looking back to make sure you were going the right way.

You didn’t even register the change in the deafening silence around you, so concentrated you were.

A pair of steps became two, and as you were about to look back, your face collided with a wall covered in fabric.

You exhaled a quick “ow”, pinching your sore nose, closed eyes watery.

“That was quite the hit. Do you need some ice?” asked the wall.

Opening said watery eyes revealed that the wall was in fact, a person.

A tall man, green hair and glasses and a worried expression.

His worry for you made you feel strangely happy.

“I don’t think I need it, but thank you. Oh! But I do need your help with something else.”

You scrambled to explain to him your problem.

“Ah, so you need to go to animal linguistics class. It’s really close by. I can take you there.”

His smile was so mature, it made you feel like you could rely on him for anything. He couldn’t be lying.

“Thank you so much, senpai!”

Giving him your brightest smile, you followed after him, your heart soaring with happiness, the mark on your wrist so defined it looked like a fresh tattoo.

He’d let you notice it for yourself.

Sebek

The mark on your wrist was of a crocodile curled around a beautiful dark rose, its piercing gaze and ferocious fangs turned to any who dare harm it, but rather than animalistic, it felt noble, like a knight protecting its liege.

The horses of the equestrian club were magnificent things, varied coats and manes and tempers, all in (sometimes not so) clean packages.

You liked observing them, their manes floating in the wind, some of them unruly, some of them as docile as a house cat, as their riders took them around and around the race track, perfecting their skills as you watched from afar.

But curiosity had gotten the best of you one day, and you decided to approach the stables.

Sneaking in right after practice, the tired horses were resting on their wooden homes, the smell of hay and horse dung infiltrating your nostrils and making you gag, but you were already here, so why stop now?

You didn’t dare to approach too much, but being this close to them made you feel better. Even in this weird magical place, some things were the same.

A loud sound came from behind you, and you felt yourself freeze. The main door to the stable had opened.

Louder than the first sound, a voice yelled from behind you.

“WHO IS THERE? NO ONE IS ALLOWED IN THE HORSE STABLES AFTER PRACTICE!”

You slowly turned around, coming face to face with a tall light green haired man, his expression serious, frightening and yet also ethereal.

“I’m really sorry! I know I shouldn’t be here, but I got really curious and really wanted to see the horses.” you explained.

“THAT IS NO EXCUSE! YOU COULD HAVE BEEN SEVERELY HURT, HUMAN.”

Even though he had approached you, he was still screaming loudly, making you flinch.

The horses didn’t seem to mind, perhaps used to his booming voice.

His tone wasn’t the nicest, but it didn't feel mean either. It was a strange mixture of emotions that neither of you were entirely sure of.

“You’re correct. I sincerely apologize.”

He kept his hardened posture and gaze, but an almost imperceptible twinkle in his eye told you that he appreciated the apology.

“IF YOU EVER WANT TO SEE THE HORSES, YOU NEED TO ASK TO BE ACCOMPANIED BY A MEMBER OF THE EQUESTRIAN CLUB. AS A GUARD OF LORD MALLEUS AND A MEMBER OF THE EQUESTRIAN CLUB, I WILL DO MY DUTY AS BEFITTING OF ONE OF HIS KNIGHTS AND ACCOMPANY YOU IF YOU SO WISH.”

That was unexpected. The screaming, lightning eyebrowed boy that had the expression of someone with extreme constipation wished to accompany you. What a strange and wonderful thing.

“Then, Knight of Lord Malleus, I accept your offer. Next time you’ll have to show me around the stables and let me meet all the horses.”

You gave him your brightest smile, and watched as the tips of his ears turned pink.

In the dim light of the stable, neither noticed the intricate design on their wrist become fully inked, its splendor in full bloom.

Kalim

The mark on your wrist was of a beautiful exotic carpet, gold, red and purple thread intermingled to create an embroidered tapestry, who instead of laying flat or being rolled on its side, looked ready to soar into the sun.

Potions class always made you feel like some sort of ancient magic bearer, living by a bog and making frog stew.

It simultaneously felt mindless and stimulating, being so precise with temperature and ingredients and color of the potion but also mandating that you stir a pot for 10 minutes while looking for a color change from burgundy to pale red.

It all took ages to perfect, and a second to explode on your face.

You stirred the pot, your mind already outside of the classroom and in the lunchroom, boredom and hunger fueling daydreams of snacks.

You almost even wished for something to explode, just so you wouldn’t be as bored out of your mind.

Like the universe had read your mind, a loud thwack echoed from the window beside you, scaring you out of your mind, your arm moving on its own and accidentally elbowing your cauldron, the whole thing spilling on the floor, a goey slippery mess of red and chopped ingredients.

From the other side of the room, Professor Crewel gave you a look that said it all.

A thorough scolding later, and your after class lunchroom plans were dashed, as the bubbling mess of a potion on the floor was your mess to clean.

You sighed, but armed with a mop and some cleaning solution, you’d deal with it.

Looking at the window that had started it all, your eyes widened, seeing what you assumed to be the perpetrator of the loud sound still there waving at you.

It was some sort of a rug? And it was waving at you? But the strangest part of it all, is that you felt like you recognized this rug, like one recognizes a friend lost in a crowd.

You stared back down at the spilled potion, wondering if in its liquid state it caused some sort of hallucinations.

Your contemplations of your state of mind were interrupted by the door to the classroom loudly opening, and someone exclaiming:

“Found you!”

Turning back, you saw a silver haired youth barreling towards you and the spilled potion.

“Wait, watch out-“ you warned, but it was too late, as the young man was already with one foot on the puddle and the other in the air, his body directly projected towards you.

“waaaAAAAAHHH” he screamed as he fell on you, squishing you against the ground.

He quickly got on his elbows, looking down on you with an easy going smile.

“Oh, hi there! Sorry for falling on you. But my carpet flew away and Jamil would be super mad if he found out so I’ve been searching for it everywhere.”

You blinked slowly, the whole situation feeling like a fever dream.

You should be more appalled at whatever just happened, but seeing this stranger's smiling face made you feel soft.

Everything dictated that he should get off of you, but strangely you didn’t want him too.

A light turned on in your head, and you peaked at your wrist, the once slightly faded mark a vibrant work of art, like a freshly painted portrait.

Your eyes met the smiling strangers' red ones, and you smiled back at him.

“I think I already found the carpet.”

#twst #twisted wonderland #x reader #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #Silver Vanrouge #Rook Hunt #Trey Clover #Sebek Zigvolt #Kalim Al-Asim #KyusBow

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