#if they did the same thing with Stitch— I swear
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harunayuuka2060 · 2 months ago
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Skully: Will you be my friend?
MC: I love to! But...
MC: ...
MC: I don't know if I would remember you or even this place.
Skully: ...
Skully: *smiles*
Skully: It doesn't matter. We became friends, and I will cherish this encounter forever. *gives them a tight hug*
MC: ...
MC: You are making me cry... Waaaaaah!
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neckromantics · 1 year ago
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Love Bites.
Astarion Ancunín-
He could just eat. you. right. up.
SFW. (Mostly)
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(Go reblog this gif bc i said please and we like to support creators ily)
Okay, it's not a revolutionary idea or anything, but Astarion is SUCH a biter.
Like, yeah, duh, it kind of comes with the territory of him being a vampire and everything, BUT he's also just.... like that.
Once he begins to grow more comfortable with you and with showing affection in his own ways, it becomes pretty apparent. Secretly, you wonder to yourself if it was something he did before his turning as well, because it's such a common occurrence. You're convinced you could locate the cure for vampirism tomorrow and you'd still find yourself sporting teeth marks all the same.
The first time it happens, you're on a rant.
You’d been out all day on your own, doing some trading around the nearest town while the rest of the gang took a (very rare) day of rest. They could hear your frustrated stomping long before they could see you, but you didn’t even spare them a glance- just flung your dirty boots off to the side before you flung yourself into your vampiric lover's tent with reckless abandon.
He’s busy repairing a seam on one of his shirts-- a couple of pins held between his pursed lips as he focuses on getting the stitches just right-- when you fall down cross-legged onto one of the cushions nearest him, not giving so much as a hello before you start to go on and on about what absolute bullshit your day had been.
Imagine yourself, mad as shit, steam practically coming out of your ears as you recall the way some imbecile in Rivington shorted you a large portion of gold, which resulted in you becoming so distracted that some other imbecile swooped in and stole your backpack of priceless scrolls right off your person. The lengths of which you had to go to get it all back were absolutely ridiculous. Mind numbing, even.
(The next time something like this happens to you when you're alone, magic-user or not, you are going to use the last of your brain cells to summon the power of the weave, and you're going to use it to blow yourself up. Gale-style.)
You’re about to swear that you’re never leaving camp without him again when you finally glance his way, and you aren't expecting to catch him looking right at you.
Carmine eyes examine you with such fondness– such adoration– that you almost forget what you’re angry about when they meet your own. It knocks the wind from your lungs. Shuts you up, that’s for sure.
It’s only then that you realize you haven’t even said hello to him. Gods, you didn’t even ask if you could come in. You just inserted yourself into his space like it was your own and made a fool of yourself.
Oddly enough, he doesn't seem to mind.
At some point in your story-telling, he’d finished his little project and settled in to listen, clearly amused at just how angry you are as you gesture about with bloodied hands, childish insults flying past your lips with such earnestness that he has to bite back a laugh. You truly are so adorable when you’re angry, so much so that he doesn’t know what to do with himself other than…. well.
Your breath gets caught in your throat as he leans in close, and before you can question him he’s digging his teeth into your clothed shoulder with such force that you’re amazed he doesn’t break the skin.
Something about the way his nose scrunches up when he does it makes your heart do disgusting, lovesick cartwheels in your chest.
The next time you're doing laundry, you find the two, twin sized holes that his fangs left behind in your tunic, and it makes you smile like an idiot for the next hour.
You get used to being on the receiving end of his affectionate bites pretty quickly. It's honestly become one of your (many) favorite things about him.
He doesn't really do it in front of other people, which is understandable. But, he does click his teeth at you when you're being especially, delectably sweet to him. Just a click click of bared fangs as a warning so you know to stop being so damn nice to him all of the time.
As if.
How you reach up to swipe away some blood from his face when no one is looking, and he pulls one of the tips of your fingers into his mouth for a little appreciative nibble.
The way he smirks at you when you pull your hand away with a small huff of a laugh, your own face a little warmer beneath the pad of his thumb as he returns the favor.
When you're alone in his tent late at night, and he tells a joke that has you laughing so hard your face hurts. He'll press his teeth to the apple of your cheek, flushed and rounded by how hard you're grinning.
He could just eat. you. right. up.
The abuse your bottom lip receives when you’re sharing a particularly passionate kiss. How the point of a fang sometimes nicks the plush skin if he’s not careful enough. The happy little noise he makes when the taste of your blood hits his tongue leaves you far too breathless to even consider complaining.
Sometimes, it's just how he greets you.
You'll literally be sitting down, doing absolutely nothing but minding your own business, and he'll come over and chomp down on whatever part of you he can reach like he's kissing you hello.
Likes hearing the way your heart-rate picks up whenever he comes up from behind while you’re especially distracted. He gets you by the waist, pulls you off balance to get a better angle and bites down on your neck in the most theatric, Dracula-esque fashion.
Complete with a rabid growl that tickles your skin and has you shaking with laughter.
He's learned not to startle you too much, though. After all, given everything that's happened, you're more of a "stab first, wonder who it is later" type of person, and he'd rather not get shivved with whatever sharp object is nearest you at the time.
He soothes whatever small pain he might have caused in his dramatics with a soft kiss. A dozen or so more, wet and wanting, trailing from beneath your ear to the place where your pulse pounds away for him. That lovely pulse of yours, growing ever faster with each lingering press of his mouth.
And if you shiver and oh-so casually bring up how you'll let him feed from you tonight if he'd like? That's your own business.
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just-zy · 5 months ago
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Cursed Bloodsucker
pairing: Wednesday Addams x Fem Reader!
summary: A day of the week, you'd think curses and hexes was all on the same day, but surely it wasn't that bad.. You had a girlfriend, didn't you?
A/N: I feel good tonight, and I feel like I didn't do pretty shitty here..
Warnings!: ermmm....ooc wednesday probably..
Masterlist
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Being a vampire had its perks, but everything seemed to be..a downside for a certain individual today, specifically, friday. One might say, 'Oh, but how bad can it be?', well...
"O–Ow, Jesus Christ, easy on the stitches Wednesday.."
"If you'd just listen to what I had told you, we wouldn't be in this predicament."
Waking up early wasn't a problem for the vampire, so instead of listening to Wednesday, she decided to sleep in, and look where that got the bloodsucker. Running off to her second period while trying to neat out her wrinkled vest. She couldn't see well really, having her satchel slinging on her shoulder for dear life, her sunglasses almost falling off before she got inside the classroom, what a sight to see.
Disheveled hair, wrinkled clothes, slipping satchel, she thought it couldn't get worse.
She might've jinxed that one, that for a moment she thought she was cursed for living on specific days.
Walking was supposedly calming for the vampire, but today just seemed to be a day you wanted to get over with.
"Okay, what's for lunch, ooh– gimme!"
"Y– Y/N! Stop—!"
She was determined to have a bite of whatever Enid was having for lunch, unknowingly, the utensil Enid decided to use for todays lunch was silvered utensils. Why did that school have silvered utensils anyway? Well, labels. They have labels.
She reacted instantly to the object, dropping the spoon, immediately. "Fucks sake! Wha–"
"That's silver!"
If only she didn't let her intrusive thoughts win for once, maybe then she'd live another day.
Another problem, a full moon was happening tonight, what a coincidence!
She felt too worn out to even go out and feed, but she just had to, didn't she.
That same night, she did quite have an interaction with a shifting wolf, then gets mauled. What are the chances, huh? Thankfully, Wednesday was there to save the day! Or night.
"I feel exhausted, thank goodness it's the weekend tomorrow..I don't always have the best luck on friday's I swear, I'm cursed."
"Perhaps it's because you think you are."
Wednesday tidies the kit and stitches on the vampires bed, making her way in the bathroom and began cleansing her hands filled with the blood of her girlfriend.
"No– I really do have bad lucks on fridays.. Remember that one time I had an essay due? And I accidentally poured coffee, everywhere. Then there was that time when I slipped on the stairs and nipped my fucking tooth, and had my lip busted. But, I guess– they weren't as bad.. Because I had a lovely, gorgeous girlfriend to help me recover from all of that.."
The raven sat next to the vampire, scrutinizing her lover. She had a light smirk plastered on her lips, she leaned forward, your lips mere inches away from touching. You waited, you always did. You closed your eyes, awaiting her plump crimson lips making contact with yours, but that didn't happen. Tonight was different, she felt like tormenting you. She had only pecked your cheek.
What. The. Fuck.
Bothered, you gazed at her as she began inspecting the stitches on your arm. "Stitches look horrendous on you, Cara Mia."
"You're just pure evil, like the devil, did you know that?" You grumbled, unhappy that she still hasn't given you the one thing that you were waiting for all day, considering she was out with Eugene the whole day.
"Some consider me as Lucifer's daughter, but that isn't new, no."
Her eyes looked rather, luminous under the moons emitting light, you were ready to do everything she'd order you to, even let her redo the perfect stitches she's done just so she could have all her attention back at you, while she enjoys at what she does best. Being your girlfriend.
You didn't dare disrespect her, or even trespass her boundaries and limitations. Never in your life would anything hurtful leave that mouth of yours, you love her too much to do so.
Your gaze didn't leave her still figure, if anything it made you more focused on her, and only her. Your fingertips grazing on her pale skin, feeling her burgundy lips on your finger, to your desperate bloodied lips.
Fridays in the morning were a no, but the night time was an exception.
______+______
A/N: Wednesday has my heart, but she's soo difficult to write for sometimes 💔 this is a makeup for the recent imagine 😌
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satocidal · 1 year ago
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𓂂 ˚ ☆ ꙳ * ࣭ 𓂂 ˚ ☆ ꙳“15 missed Calls”—Geto Suguru
Synopsis: Suguru wasn’t a jealous or angry man but then you usually didn’t flaunt your ass a round in a tiny dress either- but hey, Halloween’s every girl’s pass at being a whore, right?
── ˚₊✩‧₊ A/n: ok yeah I’m late to post for Halloween but it’s like barely anything to do with it so <3 also I did stray away from what I’d planned to write but then hehe👉👈 also, thanks to @romiyaro for beta and in general (I swear I’ll get pouty! Reader in some Drabble now💀)
── ˚₊✩‧₊ word count: 3.9k
── ˚₊✩‧₊ warnings: MDNI!!smut!!fem! Reader x Suguru; pussy inspection; degradation; jealous (but totally not toxic) Suguru; orgasm denial; hinted power dynamics; reader is more or less a brat; spitting; Suguru is almost a soft dom? It was supposed to be just smut but idk (PWP)
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“Crawl”
You stared at him blankly, “Now,” Suguru added, brows raised- a smirk wide on his face as you drop to your knees.
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“I’ll be back late, don’t wait up on me Su’”
A nod he passed mindlessly—“Sure thing babe- just lemme know if I have to pick you up and don’t get wasted, send me a message if you change locations and-”
A heavy pause settled in, you walked in skittishly—a bashful grin on your face, “This ok?” Question which referred your dress in place.
Mostly, it wasn’t ok—definitely not appropriate in the way the small little satin piece hugged your body, so short Suguru was sure you would flash somebody after two drinks.
But it was Halloween—every girl’s free pass at being a whore.
A sigh Suguru let out, “it’s gorgeous, you’re gorgeous…”
Your smile, guilty, only spread further, “..but?”
He smiled, shaking his head, “Nothing, just take care ok?” A step towards you and a turn of his finger to give him a spin—chuckling as you twirled excitedly and then hugged him—he was very sure it would be a long night.
-
15 missed calls, 25 messages with the same connotation of “are you ok?” And “where are you?”
A single slurred reply to you 40 messages with a “suguwu :)):) m’ kay. Pck me up im 20?”
And with all obviousness, it wasn’t well received at all—so evident in the way tension hung heavy in the car, your seat belt properly holding you in place—his piercing gaze, and the certain placement of his hand on your thigh that kept you as sober as possible.
“Mm sorry,” you slurred out again, head lolling to the side to look at him—stuck at the way his jaw clenched at your words.
Not a word he passed, not a word after that, did you.
And hence, ride back home was quiet, awkward and…in some way, scary.
Click- the door fell shut, locked, entrapping what was of you and Suguru alone in the house.
And just so suddenly, every stitch in the hem of your flimsy red dress began seeming interesting—“What did I tell you?”
You winced and groaned, internally at his tone—“The fact that I trust you to- to, gods,” he paused as if searching for the right words—but you saw it, the switch in his eyes as they darkened just the slightest—“To leave the house dressed as a cheap little whore, one thing I asked for. Your fucked out lil’ brain can’t even do that?”
You stood there in the middle of your apartment, frowning and loosely, berated as a little kid, it seemed.
“Mm’ sorry Su’ it’s just- the girls-”
A sharp glare from him, enough to make your excuses die down your throat—“The girls this and the girls that right? Why was there nobody when I picked you-”
“-I ordered them all Ubers,” you muttered under your breath, a silence resting again.
“And you couldn’t one for yourself, why?”
You paused, hesitated—never once looking at him, “I thought…I thought I had you so…”
That was when Suguru took notice of the pout you held—the one you did all the time, The one he mostly loved.
“Besides,” you began—attention strained on the memory as you thought hard, “I’m not a child to be taken care of, or someone who’ll get lost-”
What you had assumed would quieten everything down only seemed to uproar a side of him you barely saw.
“Excuse me?”
You gulped, hard—“well yeah-”
“Shut the fuck up.” He snapped, moving all so close—“You were down right freezing and shivering when I pulled up, I don’t care what your girls do but your tits were almost hanging out, like a damn slut. Hell, why did you have those 20 dollar bills stuffed in there?”
You almost wanted to chuckle at the last part- it would make for a funny story, but the look on Suguru’s face screamed that it would have to wait till at least, the next day.
“I was alright,” you scoffed, a hand pushing him away—not a budge that it caused in his stance, “The bartender…he was nice- didn’t even let no one come near our drinks and- and even offered me lemons after closing and-”
“-woman,” Suguru interrupted quick, a long sigh withdrawn, “it was me who offered you lemons,”
You waited—a pink tint already dusted your face, ears burning at his words, “oh.”
He sighed again, seemingly recollecting his thoughts as you bit your lip—gods how he adored you—especially when you wobbled slight, wrapping your arms around his torso and pulling yourself into him, head resting in his shoulder.
“I’m sorry,” you mumbled softly, against his body—his hands resting on your sides, “I know you’re a big girl alright? I know you can look after yourself,” he pulled away slight, a kiss landing on your forehead, “but it’s my responsibility too you know? And it was majorly annoying to have you gone like that,”
A nod you passed, again an apology mumbled except this time you were met by the shake of his head.
“No you’re not,” he mumbled, “you do this a lot you know?”
And you do, not informing him of the late night work sessions and what not, not informing him on time of a date cancelled, he was rightfully tired.
“Now, here on I’ll just punish you doll, you can deny it and we’ll go off to sleep and deal with it another time or you can be a good girl, my good girl and take everything because frankly, I’m a little too mad to sleep right now,”
You looked into his words, it wasn’t a bad idea, particularly, you would of course never utter a no.
But then, you knew what it entailed, you knew how it ended last time, how embarrassing but then just how much you loved it too—a nod, all the affirmation provided.
“Strip,” a command from there on, “quick,” he added, eyes boring into your form as he did so.
And strip you did, it wasn’t anything new but just the way your fingers trembled, as did your thoughts as you pulled down the satin dress down—Suguru’s groan was loud, sounding throughout the apartment—your breasts well out easily, “No bra?” And you wanted to snort at the obliviousness of the question, of course, no bra.
“At least tell me you’ve got your panties still on,” you licked your lips, face warmed up at his words—it wasn’t anything new, but then why did that certain tone of condescension feel just so right?
Suguru held back another groan as the white g-string came to his view, the one that he bought, “such a slut,” he whispered.
Over the couch, he motioned you—the sound of his tongue clicking as you stepped forward.
“I’m sure only good girls get to be with dignity,” there on his face, he held a grin which you wanted to slap away too—but all to no avail.
“Crawl” everything in his voice assured you that a brat was not what he would appreciate tonight.
You stared at him blankly, “Now,” Suguru added, brows raised- a smirk wide on his face as you drop to your knees.
It was simply embarrassing, in the way your hips swayed a little as you moved, all that was your dignity remained flitted to that small piece of clothing that you knew Suguru would probably tear away.
Your gaze remained downturned, too ashamed, humiliated to even look him in the eyes—but just one glance and you’d see that amused smirk, the satisfied expression on his face as he took in the sight displayed for him.
You halted near his feet- a ginger lick of your lips, unsure, uncertain on the sequence to be followed, tugging on the hem of his pants in a confused manner.
“Hm? Don’t know what to do? My, and here I thought the big girl was all so smart to do as she pleased,”
You let out a loud whine at his words, startled a little too as he squatted down to your level—“sh,” he muttered, pressing a finger to your lips, “all I want to hear tonight is an actual apology,”
Another nod, tersely you snapped your eyes away, knowing that’s as all you could do tonight.
He hummed along as well, getting up and motioning you with a finger too, “on the couch please doll,” and you were sure what was to come here on.
Across the arm rest you lay, biting your lip—so exposed, so vulnerable and to think he hadn’t shed a single piece of clothing himself.
His fingers were gentle in the way they touched you, you knew he wasn’t mad—but you knew you’d also end up crying by the time he was done.
They traced you gently, over your back, feathery touches to your spine—tickling almost, he bent down just at that too, down to your ear, “Feeling ashamed hm?”
A hum was all to add to his words as you lay yourself easy, tension ebbing away with the way he massaged you—“you know,” he began, “you should be more ashamed of your actions, acting like a brat rather than being ashamed of your pussy and bare ass on display,”
Just at that you wanted the couch to engulf you, you knew that he knew you did—that was the purpose, “You deserve some punishment eh?” A squeal you let you as his pinned you inner thigh, pushing it apart—“should get your pretty little girlfriends too eh? Make em watch since all of you seem like a bunch of sluts to me,”
All in good humour, you reminded yourself, but a small pout found it’s way along your features, as it always did when Suguru got degrading.
“15 spanks,” he mused, “just pink enough right?” — the sentence was ended with another pinch, 15, you but your lip—there would be something more to it.
“15 and you thank me for each, yeah pretty thing? Your pretty head can do that f’me tonight?”
you bobbed your head, not daring to even turn your head and look at him once.
A patient quiet settled in, your body relaxed further—Suguru smiled wide as he looked at you, so perfect for him, “remind me why you’re here sweetheart?”
The sweetness in his vice was sharp still, condescending in every way, “b-because I uh- I…I was out late? Didn’t—did not call o-or inform you-ah!”
-smack!
Your words simply fell short as the slap landed hard on your ass, so sure to grab it right after and and squeeze—Suguru pulled back, and waited.
“Thank you, Suguru,” you sighed, and you waited right after, expecting the next hit.
“We can stop if it’s too much-”
“-I’ll take it, wanna be a good girl, please i-”
A sharp slap on your right cheek and then the left, aimed carefully, accurately proportional, “atta girl,”
“Thank you,” you groaned at his words, eyes clenched shut, surprised in the way he chose not to hold back in midst of your words—but then, typical Suguru.
Just so, many a times Suguru landed the flat of Palm down on your ass, dusty pink to a rosy one, the process was slow as your backside gained its hue, so pretty.
18 spanks in, Suguru never spanked just the amount he promised, always more—the 19th spank sounded like a crack against your warmed up ass, you didn’t bother showing your gratitude.
A small pause, Suguru chuckled, “nothing? Why don’t I just-” a sharp pain elicited in you bottom half as another slap sounded in the room- a hard spank on your pussy, just hard enough to have you gasping.
“Thank you,” you mumbled out—tears forming at the brink of your eyes now,, form slumping onto the couch, exhausted and spent, sore from the position he’d had you hold so long.
“Bet you are, especially from all this wetness,” another slap on your pussy, “getting wet from your punishment?” Another slap, the tears threatened to spill, at this point, “that’s how sorry you are?”
You wanted to scream at him, thatyou were sorry but it was Suguru and this conversation was nuts to begin with so you remained your quiet, the pout slowly turning to a frown.
“On the couch, legs wide apart,” scrambling to your feet, you detested the way he chuckled as you grabbed onto him for support, the booze never helped and the way you were all so sore from hefty time spent in that uncomfortable position, nothing helped at all,, but that was fine, Suguru was gentle in the way he helped you settle.
“Just a small inspection, ok doll?”
The words and the fate of it came crashing down on you fast.
You gritted your teeth at his words, you knew what that meant—he would find your arousal, shame you for it, punish you maybe and you loved the process, every bit of it.
Sprawled across the couch, feet planted to your side onto the couch, while Suguru rested in the place between, warm breath tickling you, making your hole clench around nothing.
“If I slip these panties down,” you’re weren’t sure why he even bothered asking, the wet spot was all so apparent, “will I find you wet?” Even so, you lay audacious—a shake of your head, his smirk widened.
Fingers hooked into the waist and of your g-string, he pulled quick, not a second wasted , he’d been wanting to do this all evening.
An amused raise if his brow, eyes stuck at the string of your juices that worked its way from your pussy to the gusset of your flimsy panties.
There, finally, in all its glory, your pussy lay glistening with arousal under his gaze—“liar,” he grinned as he stared at it hungrily, “such a fuckin’ liar,” he repeated, almost in a daze.
Subconsciously though, your hips rolled, almost lifting to feel his touch, another set of clicking sounds, “don’t act like a cheap whore, you think I’ll just touch your pussy like that?”
Your eyes watched him, confused, as they stared down at his form in between your legs, kneeling for you, hair tied back.
“Need to see if this pussy’s still worth it babe,” and soon enough, everything made sense—a whine of disagreement rose through you, a glare from him acted enough a filter.
“Please, I’m sorry-”
“-prove it doll,” was all he muttered as he dove his fingers onto your pussy, mindful to only cause discomfort as he prodded at your folds, no more or less.
“Let’s see…” he snickered, “gods,” he chuckled, “think I gotta clean all of this before I can even start eh?”
Your eyes bounced around ditzy, you wanted just him, anything—“but the question is do we do this the right way and I wipe you clean? Or…” and all before the statement even came to its end, Suguru had dived in, pressed his hot tongue flat against your folds, basking in the gasp that you let out.
A sharp inhale you took as he pulled away just as fast, his eyes stuck onto yours, “I think cheap whores like you shouldn’t get the better end of the stick so…” with that, you cursed internally at the box of wipes that Suguru and you kept on the coffee table all the time—you cursed as the pulled out three tissues with ease.
“It’s supposed to cause discomfort so be prepared for that but if it hurts or is too much, let me know, ok?”
You nodded at his words, nervousness flickering on your face and he chuckled, squeezing your wrist slight—little comfort that it provided.
The first dab was ginger, as if testing his boundaries, soon came the second and then the third—until Suguru was easily navigating and cleansing you, almost felt infantilising.
How so very humiliating indeed.
“That’s your apology hm?” The smile jo longer rested on his face, “look at only me when I’m down here,” he added, noticing the slight hang of your head and almost closed off eyes.
“Such a naughty girl that you are,” he mused, “am I to believe you got this turned on from a spanking? Or was it something your girls did hm?” A sharp smack that ended on your hardened clit, he stroked it a little while he was there, “how absolutely pathetic doll,”
Shame blanketed you slight, not covering all of what you wanted for you still remained absolutely naked and open on for him, a satisfied hum he passed, tossing away the second tissue after dragging it from your slit all the way down to your other hole.
“Now that I begin inspecting my girl,” he chuckled at the pout you’d held the entire while, “you brought this upon yourself baby,”
And you had, but particularly, Suguru did think you held up better than most times.
You watched as he eyes your pussy, unsure of how to embarrass you further—he grinned, “my my, it’s so pink underneath all that slick hm? Almost as pink as your sweet ass,” with that he landed a sharp slap to your ass, just as a reminder—giggling at your squeal.
Thick fingers spread apart your folds slowly, tracing it over your pussy lips—a tickling sensation, “is your cunt clean enough to be used hm?”
You let out a sigh as he pulled at your folds, making sure to not once lay a finger on your clit—yet accurate enough to just pull back the hood of it.
“Is it clean enough that I can use your little hole now as a cum dump?” His fingers patted down onto your bare cunt, relishing in the wetness that seeped out your hole—“maybe you don’t deserve it all hm?”
With that, Suguru spit on your cunt, the wetness only ever grew as he Smeared it around, “had to make sure,” he snickered mischievously, “that this pussy’s still mine.”
You wanted to whine and groan, shove his head into your pussy so he eat you until you cried—but you know, you knew all too well that any attempts would only get your hands tied and mouth gagged with your soiled panties.
Suguru hummed, snapping his fingers, “eyes on me doll—now, I think, from the outside, you’re ok,” he smirked, “but I’d need to check the inside too right?”
You nodded at his words mindlessly, of course anything he said would he correct, “you’re lucky I’m not mad at ya, would’ve made ya bounce on that dildo of yours till ya’ cried,”
And by now, your patience was running low—Suguru was a tease, apparent from the way your clit itself twitched for his contact, your hips rolled and hole clenched uselessly—you were dying to fight back.
But you wouldn’t, because Suguru demanded a good girl tonight.
A finger moved into you slow, very slow, hips bucked only to be pushed down harshly by Suguru at that—“Take only what I give you,” he warned, loving the feel of your walls clenching about his finger.
You were to watch him, sure but nothing mattered anymore as your head fell back—“please,” you whimpered, “just a little more.”
He smiled at the way your face contorted about his thick finger, slow as he moved it about, a circular motion and then pushing it against your walls before pulling away entirely.
The slick coated his finger just as before, only this time He brought to his mouth still, tasting you right there and humming.
“Good as always,” he muttered, eyeing carefully your ministrations, “please Suguru,” you cried out, “touch me p-please,”
Tricky slope.
Suguru was going to touch you anyways, of course he would but your statement only ever pushed away the ebbing orgasm he would’ve provided.
“Of course, my love,” he grinned—slyly before pushing in two fingers roughly into your hole—loving just how you gasped and mewled about it.
Then again, nothing mattered to you anymore.
"S-S—Suguruuu, harder... please. Moremoremore!" your begs fell in a hoarse voice.
“A sweet spot already?” A toothy grin he held as he pumped the two fingers into you slowly, loving the way your eyes rolled back at his touch.
Your thighs were spread out wide on the couch — raised now in the air as he leaned his body close, reaching knuckle deep and curling his thick fingers up into a gummy spot that made you shudder and grip a cushion.
"Ouh, Fuck! Sugu—"
“Ah, ah, ah, only apologies I said, right?” His tone was so soft even so, almost heavenly that you felt.
You pinch your bottom lip between your teeth as he hits deep strokes and massages his fingertips into your gummy walls— sticky juices are all over his hand because of all that cleansing he worked out of you earlier. Suguru smiled to himself, knowing you wouldn’t appreciate getting that couch wet with your juices in the morning—to hell with that.
You looked cute, as you gasped and moaned in his fingers—he took note of the ever present pout on your lips, oh how he wanted to fuck it out of you—but then, the mean thrusts diluted down to gentle strokes soon enough, boy was he soft for you.
Suguru was doting still, knowing that no way you could’ve taken his cock without prep—struggling with even his fingers tonight, he loved being bigger than you.
Bigger, faster, harder and merciless as they pursue your orgasm.
"Gonna cum and make a mess for me again? Yeah?"
"Yes! Please, pleasepleaseplease — make me cum!" you whisper frantically against him.
He chuckled when you moan, pumping his fingers faster and faster, fingering at your clit with his other hand to tip you over the edge.
“Nothing unless I allow it,” he announced finally, ah—that was why he’d been lenient earlier—gods how you hated him.
He studied you intently as your orgasm built up, if only that was his focus onto other things— maybe if he would have had the same determination in general as he does now when finding your G-spot, then he perhaps wouldn’t have struggled with daily life issues as much as he had to.
Suguru's dampened forehead rested against your thighs. He felt the radiating heat of your pussy in this proximity. Those dark eyes never stop staring at you, making sure you're as flustered as possible even in this pleasure-drunk state.
"Fuck... you're gushing..." he says in awe, " 'promise to lick my fingers clean after, yeah?" he rasps against you.
"Yes yes yes!" you say. He's pretty sure that you would have said yes to anything right then; you were so blissed by the way his fingers worked into your soaking hole, by the way they stretched you open just right.
The apartment was filled entirely, with the sound of your gushing pussy squelching with his thrusts—so tempted to attach his tongue onto your cunt but he knew you’d never be able to control yourself after that.
But to tease you was the goal—just slightly, almost a feathery touch he lay on your clit as he began rubbing it again, “shit doll, I do think your pussy’s worth turning a cum dump into,” you groaned at his words—mind almost mush as you chased your high, clenching at his fingers—until he pulled out immediately.
Until your high entirely ebbed away.
A confused and betrayed look you passed him, “wa-wait what? Suguru-! I-”
He simply giggled at your state, slapping your ass one more time as he got up and away, “you’re an idiot if you thought you’d be cummin’ t’night,”
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All of this work is entirely original and my own—please refrain from copying or reposting.
Likes and Reblogs highly appreciated!
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feyascorner · 10 months ago
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Sure, Astarion has his reasons for being the way he is, but he wasn't a good man before Cazador either.
He was a corrupt magistrate of high society, who had an insatiable thirst for power and immortality. He got it in the end, but at a cost he never expected to pay.
So imagine if he and Tav met centuries before the events of the game? Tav being one of the “commoners” he looks down upon, scrunching his nose in disgust at the library when your fingers brush against one another as you try to reach for the same book. He yanks his hand away so abruptly that it makes you blink.
“Ah, sorry, did you want it?” you hold out the book in his direction, but he’s already scowling. You’re by no means filthy, but he thinks you might as well be with how your clothes would fetch less than a few dozen gold pieces at the local market. And rather than having your hair neatly arranged like other ladies of high society, yours is messily tied back with a string, in a manner he'd consider disheveled.
“I did,” he mutters in return. “You can keep the damn thing, dear. I no longer have any need for it.”
You don’t know where this snarkiness is coming from, so all you can do is watch as he strides away, lips sealed in a confident yet mildly annoyed frown. He swears he won't return to this library again if those are the kinds of guests they allow in these days.
So imagine his surprise when he meets you at the nautiloid crash site. Well, he doesn't recognize you at first. You don't either. Who would? You've only said one sentence to one another. But when you see him reading at his tent, you mention favorite books of your own even though he never actually asked. Within them, is the very title of the book he let you have—which happens to be some obscure book basically nobody else reads.
He remembers you, because his encounter with you was just a day before he’d been ambushed and turned into what he is. And it’s an underestimate to say he's reimagined that very day at least a few hundred times in his head.
The same can't be said for you. You remain oblivious.
But he's different now. He stitches the rips on his own shirt at least a dozen times a month, making sure the seams blend flawlessly and the cloth makes him look as flattering as he possibly can. In the past, he would've made the expensive personal tailors do the work, but 200 years as a slave can enact more than a few lifestyle changes to an elf.
However, similar to then, he notices you're still struggling in your own ability to sew.
“Like this, darling,” he says again. “Through the loop, here.”
As you marvel innocently at his handiwork, he smiles. He's not sure how you can derive such joy from a simple needle with a thread, but he doesn't complain about the way you fawn over him rather than anyone else. He thinks about his first reaction to you, much to his avoidance. He misjudged you at the time. Terribly. And while he’ll come around to telling you eventually, he’d rather find little ways to make up for it for now.
And if he has to use a needle on the rips of your pants to do so, so be it. Besides, he thinks he likes sewing—especially when it’s for you.
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babygirlwritessmut · 14 days ago
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♡︎ part7. hospitals and police reports
・❥・pairing: vi (arcane) x fem!reader
・❥・ summary: while Vi is in the hospital your dad reveals an unpleasant news
・❥・ genre: smut + kinda friends to lovers
・❥・ word count: 1.5k
✎ warnings: hospital, blood, swearing, mention of violence
WHEN I NEEDED YOU masterlist
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the following hours were a blur. you remember your screams, the headlights of your dad's car, your mom holding you, the ambulance speeding, Vi's hand, which you held tightly all the way to the hospital, and so many doctors. you spent that night at the hospital, barely getting any sleep or having any strength left.
when the doctor finally came out to see you, the world stood still; you wanted to know what would happen to Vi, but at the same time, the news could be anything, which was terrifying.
“she's a fighter; that's something I can tell you for sure,” the doctor said, holding Vi's medical folder. “she’ll be staying here for a few days - I want to ensure there are no further risks to her health.”
“but she's okay, right?” you couldn’t hold back your worry.
“she’s already doing better; she's weak, but as I said, she’s a fighter,” the doctor said with steady calmness.
“could I see her, please?” you asked, looking her straight in the eye. the doctor hesitated a little, but seeing your concern, she gave a slight smile and nodded. you started thanking her and, for the first time in a while, you smiled.
“sweetie, we’ll wait for you here,” your mom said softly as you entered the room.
you promised yourself you wouldn’t cry. you needed to be strong for her - everything would be fine, and your composure would reassure her. worry and tears wouldn’t do her any good, so you gathered your courage and approached her bed. her body looked weak, and all the monitors around her seemed intimidating. her clothes, too, were unsettling to see, but you kept your reaction in check. the worst part was her face - you had thought it couldn’t be worse than when it was covered in blood, but no. the bruises, the stitched lip, and all the scrapes made it look like a waking nightmare.
“hi, Vi,” you said softly, taking her hand and sitting beside her. “how are you feeling?”
her head turned towards you, and a warm smile appeared on her face. “you look so beautiful, cupcake”
her words caught you off guard; Vi had just gone through one of the most traumatic nights of her life, and the first thing she did was compliment you. “thank you,” you murmured, a bit uncertainly. “but seriously, how are you?”
“like I've been beaten up,” she replied with a small grin, but she stopped immediately to avoid reopening her stitches.
after a pause, you both laughed again. “are you always this funny?” you squeezed her hand tighter. “no matter how bad the joke, I’m glad you still have the energy for it”
you talked for about fifteen minutes until the doctor returned to let you know it was time to go. you didn’t want to let go of her hand, but you had to, so with all the gentleness and care, you kissed her softly on the lips and said goodbye, promising to be back in the morning.
your parents were already waiting for you, and you walked to the car together. the ride was silent; your thoughts were still with Vi in the hospital. all you wanted was to sleep and make the morning come faster so you could see her again.
as the car approached home, your dad spoke up. “I know it’s been a hard night, but I’d like to talk to you”
“alright, daddy, I’ll change and come down to you.”
you quickly took a shower and put on your pajamas, carefully folding your jacket and giving it a kiss, as if Vi could somehow feel it. you felt partly responsible for what had happened today, but you brushed those thoughts aside and headed downstairs.
your dad was already waiting for you on the couch, and your mom stood by the window - she always did when she was anxious, so you knew something was wrong.
“please, take a seat, sweetheart,” your dad gestured to the spot beside him.
“what’s going on? did the doctors say something?” your heart was pounding. “please tell me Vi is okay”
“Vi’s fine; this isn’t about her health right now,” your dad reassured you, glancing at your mom as if he wanted her to continue, but she only nodded.
“I’m so sorry you had to go through this, sweetie. I still can’t believe Troy could do something like that,” your dad said, and you cringed at the mention of his name. you realized you hadn’t even thought about him until now; the last thing you remembered was him lying somewhere on the ground, whining in pain.
“I know what I’m about to tell you won’t be easy to take in, but I need you to stay calm” your dad took your hand, and your face must have shown utter confusion.
“so, Troy’s father has filed a police report,” your eyebrows shot up. “he claims that Vi lured him to the parking lot and assaulted him. I won’t go into details, but the gist is that you cheated on him with Vi, and when Troy wanted to confront you, he got beaten up instead” your dad explained, but there was a ringing in your ears.
“what the hell is that? that’s a complete load of shit!” you shouted, barely registering the words coming out of your mouth.
“sweetheart, that’s not exactly what I meant by ‘stay calm,’” your dad said, clearly displeased with your choice of words, but you didn’t care.
finally, your mom joined the conversation. “your father and I won’t let Troy slander your name, so I want you to tell us everything from the beginning. start with Troy’s party,” she said. when it came to family, your mom never joked. it was one of the reasons you trusted them so much; you knew you were safe.
you talked for another hour, recounting every detail, even the small ones. your dad never took his eyes off you and listened intently. you noticed his jaw clench when you described how Troy had shoved you. when you finished, the room was completely silent, and sadness crept over you, like reliving it all over again.
“daddy, thank you for getting there so quickly. I know I didn’t get a chance to say this earlier, but…” you started crying. “but I was so scared. I’ve never seen anything like that in my life. I’m so lucky to have you” you threw yourself into your father’s arms and felt like a little girl again. no matter how old you get, you always feel like a child with them.
“my precious daughter, you’re the most important thing we have, and I’ll never let anyone hurt you. I promise you, Troy and his father will regret this,” he said, hugging you tighter, and you exhaled deeply.
the next three days passed in the same routine: mornings at the hospital with Vi, then college, and back to the hospital. you spent a lot of time with her, and the doctors said she was recovering well and might go home tomorrow, which had you over the moon with happiness.
in the morning, you woke up, and your dad insisted you pick Vi up together. you hadn’t planned on introducing them under these circumstances, but it was how things turned out. when you arrived, Vi had already packed her things, and the doctor was giving her final instructions. after the doctor left, wishing Vi a speedy recovery, you hugged her, causing Vi to yelp in pain, and you quickly pulled back.
“sorry, I’m just so happy to see you… well...” you hesitated over the words.
“alive?” she laughed, and you rolled your eyes.
finally, your dad approached Vi and said, “glad to see you’re doing better”
“yes, thank you for helping me. I wish we could’ve met under different circumstances,” Vi smiled warmly at him.
“I couldn’t agree more,” your dad nodded. “I’m grateful to you, too, Vi. thank you for protecting my girl when I couldn’t be there. thank you for being there when she needed you." he said this sincerely, and they shook hands.
“I’m sure you’re aware that Troy’s father has pressed charges,” your dad continued, and Vi simply nodded. “I want to assure you that I’m handling this situation personally. I can see how much you mean to my daughter, and this is my way of thanking you, Vi” he smiled, and you felt tears of joy welling up. seeing the most important people in your life stand up for the one you fell in love with was an incredible feeling.
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indulgentdaydream · 11 months ago
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I may request something for our Jason boy, what about a nurse!reader where he saves her and she just goes 'so, do you're the guy who makes my job a living hell'?
If you can't do it, it's fine luv 🩷
of course I can do it!
Meet Cutes
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Jason Todd X fem!nurse!Reader || Fluff Word Count: 1,035
Sorry this took a couple days, university is being rough :(
Warnings: blood, death, injuries, medical tool use (needle and sutures, etc.), drug mention, broken glass, stitches
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You worked for a small Gotham 24-hour walk-in clinic. You always tried not to think too much about who was coming in and out. Some patients would stumble in, covered in blood and bruises, yet not have a scratch on them. Where did the blood come from? You never asked. You would treat whoever was assigned to you and then be on your merry way.
The clinic was closer to Crime Alley than anyone would have liked, but it settled for good service. Especially once the Red Hood started patrolling. Your very first day at the clinic had you stitching up five bullet wounds on the same patient. Your first patient of the day, at that, who had stumbled in at five in the morning. He was mumbling the whole time, swearing and cussing out Red Hood's entire legacy.
Over the months you had now worked there, bullet wounds were your most common injury. Followed by any kind of broken bone. Most of them babbled about the Red Hood, saying how he gotten them. You never asked any further, hoping to never poke your neck out to far in order to gain any attention.
You stood in the back, cleaning up one of the clinic rooms after having sent another probable criminal on their way with stitches and bandages. A crash rang out from the front, making you swivel your head.
You ran out to the lobby before freezing in your tracks. A robber stood at the prescription counter, gun in hand, pointed at the pharmacist. The shattered glass of the divider lay out on the floor around them, the pharmacist assistant cowering in fear as the robber yelled at her for certain drugs.
There weren't any patients in the waiting area. There were none left in the back. No other employee had been hurt. Only badly scared.
The robber hadn't see you yet. You were close to the reception desk. You inched sideways, trying not to make a sound or any sudden movement. There was a panic button under the desk that you could press, easily alerting the authorities. It was a clinic. They would prioritize you over all other petty Gotham crimes.
It was sad, but true.
The poor pharmacist assistant, Cindy, was slowly sorting out the drugs the robber was asking for, placing them in the bag he had thrown at her. She was trying to drag things out. That much you could tell.
You were behind the desk now, reaching for the button ever so slowly.
The automatic sliding front doors of the clinic opened. The robber changed his aim. Staring down the figure in the doorway.
Red Hood aimed his own gun, his shiny red helmet reflecting the florescent lights overhead.
Both of the shots rang out at the same time. Cindy screamed, dropping the bag of pills onto the floor.
Red Hood's shot landed true. Right between the eyes. The robber's had gone astray, but still managed to shoot through the out side of the Red Hood's leather sleeve, making him flinch back as a result.
You were frozen, hand hanging over the panic button. Did you press it? Or did you let the vigilante do his work?
You were still deciding as Red Hood walked over to Cindy, making sure she was alright. Two other nurses and another pharamacist ran out to help her. You watched as Red Hood stepped back, letting them take over.
He turned around, placing his gun back in his holster as he started to walk back out. He moved his hand to his arm, clamping his hand over it.
He walked past the reception desk.
"Wait," You said.
He paused and turned to look at you.
You nodded to his arm, "Let me stitch you up."
Surprisingly enough, he followed you into the back. He sat down on the cot you told him to. Took off his jacket when you said.
You found it awkward, standing in silence with the Red Hood. You decided to speak up as you started the first stitch, "So... you're the guy who makes my job a living hell?"
He turned his head to look at you, those white eyes of the helmet boring into you. You wished you could see some sort of facial expression of his.
When he spoke, his voice was modulated, "Did I not just save your clinic from a robbery? How is that a living hell?" There was a tone of sarcasm to it.
You smiled a little, "We get a lot of criminals coming in here post-fights. I've gotten pretty good at sewing up gunshot wounds that were your doing." You glance up at the helmet's eyes, "No offence."
"You fix up those assholes?"
"I fix up those human beings," You retaliate, finishing the last stitch. You step away, "I don't know them or their pasts. To me, they're innocent people that just need some healing."
You can see the confusion in his body language, his head turning down to ponder at how quickly you had stitched him up. He stayed quiet.
You turned away from him, gathering some bandages to wrap his arm up, "Though... I will say how most of them will rant to me about how much they hate you. More often than not admitting their own faults as they do."
Something like a chuckle filters through the modulator, "You know what? I hear the same stuff."
You can't help but laugh back. You bandage him up before nodding, "You're all set."
He nods in thanks, slipping his jacket back on. He extends his gloved hand for a shake, "What's your name?"
You give it to him, a little surprised at his firm yet gentle grip, "You may want to leave out the back door. I pressed our panic button before bringing you back here."
Red Hood nods in understanding, before walking out.
This would not be the last you saw of him. Because now he had a personal nurse.
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The day after every visit of his, a bill comes in from Wayne Enterprises. You look at your colleague, "This guy is straight up stealing money from the rich to pay for his medical bills."
"As he should."
"Agreed."
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wallflowerimagines · 2 years ago
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Howdy dowdy, Partner. It's me, ya boi, Skinny Penis.
How would the Lords react to a selectively mute S/O? Especially their reaction to them talking to them for the first time.
I have this mental image of Heisenberg's S/O saying something really casually (while they're relaxing or something), and he just whips around to look at them and he just shouts "hoLY FUCK!"
Saw the first line of this ask and then it was followed by a cute prompt????---
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Warnings: swearing, my typical brand of silly
Alcina Dimitrescu
She's so used to your quiet demeanor it's to the point where she COMPLETELY forgot that your silence is a choice.
Alcina quite honestly never expected you to speak to her, and she was mentally planning for the rest of your relationship to be this way -- all of the servants are learning to sign, just in case, and she has pens and paper in every room if you prefer to write as your form of communication.
When you do finally speak up, she's frozen. What.
Oh. You can. You...can speak?
It's one of the times you've ever seen Alcina baffled, because honestly? She has no idea what to do.
However, you can bet she IMMEDIATELY analyses the situation in order to make sure she can get you to keep talking to her. Whatever made this happen needs to be repeated as much as possible -- Now that she knows you can be made comfortable enough to speak, she needs to hear you speak again.
(It might not have been your intention, but you hit her right in the superiority complex. Her partner spoke to HER. JUST her. Exclusively. Alcina is going to be riding this high for decades)
The Lady Dimitrescu is a big believer in positive reinforcement with her loved ones, so you better believe that every time you speak she is extra affectionate, because she does like to hear your voice!💞
Essentially, you have prompted constant affection DO NOT RESIST---
Donna Beneviento
I mentioned this in my other Donna x Mute reader post, but Donna is able to relate to a mute s/o a lot.
She's pretty nonverbal herself, so often you two have moments of quiet peace, where the two of you are doing your own thing together in the same room, taking breaks only to hold hands, cuddle, and kiss each other sweetly.
Truly dreamy💕💕💕
The first time you speak to her though, she's sewing a new outfit for one of her dolls, while you're reading in the setee beside her.
You peak over her shoulder, clear your throat and say: "You're really talented, Donna".
She drops a stitch.
Her face is burning underneath her veil. The first thing you say to her is a complement??? About a skill she is actually proud of??? That's already enough to get her heart stuttering, but you said her name.
It feels like such a small thing, but it sends Donna into a tizzy. Your lips formed the syllables of her name, and she can't get over it. You said a compliment and her name in the same sentence.
She's swooning. Smitten. Overcome.
Expect some flustered giggling and a compliment in return.
Salvatore Moreau
Salvatore has no chill whatsoever.
He literally drops everything and scuttles across the room to stand in front of you, flitting his hands around you in excitement, not quite touching you but close.
He's! So! Excited!
He didn't process what you even said-- you SPOKE TO HIM!!!! Fireworks are going off in his brain, Kool and the Gang are celebrating the good times, life is beautiful and love is in the air....
Moreau is delighted by this development. You feel safe enough around him a monster to vocalize your thoughts. You trust him. He already knew you did, but this is confirmation he didn't even know he wanted. Moreau almost starts crying he's so relieved.
Meanwhile you're repeatedly trying to warn him about the disaster occurring on the stove.
"... Salvatore, honey, the pancakes are burning."
Honey???? HONEY??? Are you TRYING to kill him????
Salvatore staggers on his feet, unintentionally the most dramatic you've ever seen him.
Sighing, you hide a smile behind your palm and give him a little smooch on the cheek before you go rescue your breakfast.
Moreau flatlines. Better give him some mouth to mouth 💗.
Karl Heisenberg
Absolutely shocked the first time you speak.
He's working on a soldat, fully used to the silence as he solders body parts together to make a deadly monster worthy of murdering Mother Miranda.
"You missed a spot--"
jESUS FUCK
Very softly, you speak up again. "At the shoulder. It's not... It's not fully connected."
Heisenberg whips around to just...stare??? At you for a bit?? His face is totally expressionless, but make no mistake his brain is reeling.
What is he supposed to do here? You feel comfortable enough to talk with him--this is a big deal, right? Is he supposed to comfort you? Praise you?
Still, it's not in Heisenberg's nature to make a big deal of things, and he doesn't want to spook you.
Eventually he nods, grunts in acknowledgement, and gets back to work.
Still, your words ring in his ears. Your voice fits you so well? He never really thought about what you sounded like before, but honestly now it's all he can think about.
Much later, when you almost forget about the whole thing, he'll offhandedly say he's proud of you for finally speaking up for yourself.
It's kinda condescending? But you know Heisenberg pretty well, and the fact he refuses to meet your eyes let's you know he's just being his normal, socially stunted self.
Thank him for the "compliment" and you'll get a pleased grin back, as well as a teasing hair ruffle. He's...happy you're comfortable with him.
It just makes your relationship feel even more right. ❤️
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pinksturniolo · 8 months ago
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Biggest Fan: Part Three
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Chris Sturniolo x Fem Reader
Summary: The one in which a fan gets rear ended in a car accident by none other than Christopher Sturniolo during her stay in Los Angeles.
A/N: This is my first series I will be publishing on here! There will most likely be 3 or 4 parts. I hope you like it and I’m really excited to share with you all. :)
Content Warnings: smut, oral receiving/giving, fingering, raw penetration, swearing, throat fucking, bondage (if you are not comfortable with that please don’t read), mentions of a head injuries, mentions of a car accident
word count: 4,423
side note: sorry for the long wait!! it was a crazy day lol but here it is <3
inspired by this song:
You ended up needing three stitches.
Apparently, you had underestimated the cut on your forehead and if it wasn’t for Isabel, you would’ve just left it with the bandage Chris had put on for you. After you left the triplets house, she insisted that you go to an urgent care and get it checked out. You explained the details of the whole night to her, starting from when you left your hotel room to get Wendy’s up until the moment Matt knocked on Chris’ door.
“Holy shit. Our first night in L.A. and you manage to get in a car accident with Chris Sturniolo which ends up in him eating you out? What kind of black magic have you been doing?” Isabel jokes as you look out the car window, avoiding eye contact with her. You were on the way back to your hotel after leaving the urgent care. You groan, covering your face with your hands in embarrassment.  “Let’s never talk about this again, please.” You reply.
At the same time, your phone rings, Chris’ name flashing across the screen. Your heart immediately jumps, and you look at Isabel in fear, showing her the name.
“Oh my god. Answer it!” She says, her eyes wide, glancing at you and to the road, trying to focus on driving.
“Fuck no! I cannot talk to him right now… How did he even get my number?” You wonder aloud. The call goes to voicemail and almost immediately after, you receive 2 text messages from him.
Hey. I got your number from Matt. Just wanted to make sure you’re good.
He called the tow place so they could get your tire fixed and take it to your hotel. Lmk when they drop it off.
You read the messages but don’t reply, putting your phone back down and leaning back in your seat. Exhaustion was beginning to set in. You hadn’t slept in almost 24 hours. “Why didn’t you answer?” Isabel asks.
“It’s not that I don’t want to talk to him… I just feel utterly mortified from what happened. It was an amazing night, don’t get me wrong. He’s cool as fuck. I guess I’m just being insecure, but I feel embarrassed about it. It’s not like me to do one-night stands. What if he just regrets it?” You tell her, really starting to question everything that happened last night.
 “Y/N. Stop. You seriously need to get out of your head and give yourself some credit. He’s obviously interested in you if he’s calling and texting you. You’re hot okay. Any guy would want you.” She says, making you smile.
“Besides, we came to L.A. for a reason, right? To let loose and have fun. This is best case scenario Y/N, might as well make the most of it.” She adds, turning into the hotel parking lot.
Isabel was one your best friends, one of the reasons being she always gave the best advice and knew what you needed to hear while not sugar coating anything. You had always appreciated her for that. She parks and you both unbuckle your seatbelts, grabbing your things and getting out of the car. “You know what, you’re right. I need to stop overthinking things so much.” You say as you walk into the hotel lobby, getting into the elevator. She smiles at you and gives you a hug. “Exactly.” She replies. You both head to your rooms and once you hit the bed, you knock out, unable to keep your eyes open for one more second.
When you finally wake up, it’s 6 p.m., the sun starting to set outside. You had slept the whole day. You yawn and stretch, getting out of your bed and heading to the shower so you could wake up.
You still have Chris’ clothes on and can smell the scent of his cologne lingering as you take them off. You remember that your wet clothes are still in a pile on his bathroom floor, silently cursing to yourself for forgetting them there. Now you had a reason to see him again.
You decide to go wash his clothes at the hotel laundry mat once you finish in the shower. You still haven’t called or texted him back, a feeling of guilt washing over you. You know that you should, but you just can’t bring yourself to do it yet. What were you so afraid of?
You were afraid of how good it felt being with him. The connection you felt scared you and you hadn’t even gone all the way with him. But you couldn’t get him out of your head. Last night played over and over in your head like a broken record.
The way he made you laugh. The lustful look in his eyes. The feeling of his hands gripping your waist. The way his lips felt on your neck. The feeling of his hair tickling the insides of your thighs as he licked and sucked and fingered you until you were whimpering his name. The way his voice sounded…
“Anything to get you in bed next to me, princess.”
“You look so pretty like this.”
“Cum for me sweetheart.”
His words played repeatedly in your head as you lay in your bed, a movie playing on the tv, but you couldn’t pay attention. All you could think about was him. You burned a hole into your phone as you stared at it.
Stop being a pussy. Just call him. You think, picking up your phone and dialing his number.
Your heart races as it rings, and you almost change your mind and hang up at the last minute when he finally picks up. “Y/N?” He says. “Hey.” You respond, the cheesiest grin appearing on your face the minute you hear him say your name.
“I was starting to think you ghosted me.”
“Well, I actually was until I remembered you still have my clothes and I have yours.”
“Funny joke. I washed your clothes earlier, you can come get them anytime. Unless you want me to bring them to you?”
“Uh… I’ll let you know. Me and my friends planned a hiking trip for tomorrow.”
“…. Okay. No worries. Hey, did you get your car back?”
“Yes, I did. Thank you so much for that, and please tell Nick and Matt thank you for me as well.”
“Of course. How’s the cut?”
“I actually ended up going to urgent care and getting three stitches. But they were pretty small, it was no big deal.”
“Damn. I’m sorry, Y/N. I knew we should’ve called the ambulance.”
“Chris, it’s okay, I promise. How’s the Kia? I was too in shock to even ask last night.”
“Oh, don’t worry about it. The bumper is a little messed up and one of the lights broke but I think your car ended up taking most of the damage… Sorry again.”
“Well at least it’s not worse. You do owe me a frosty though.”
“Hm, I would argue a McFlurry makes up for it way better.”
You and Chris end up talking and laughing almost the whole night about anything and everything. Everything except the things that occurred in his bed. You’re too hesitant to bring it up and he seems to take the hint, not mentioning it either.
The next day, you and your friends take a trip up to Big Bear, hiking for most of the day. You enjoy the views and spending time with them. You still can’t help but realize that you’re not a hundred percent in the moment, counting the minutes until you could get back to the city and talk to Chris again.
Chris’ mind hadn’t stopped racing since the morning you left his house. His heart ached as he watched your friend drive off with you in the passenger seat, feeling like a love drunk fool.
He immediately asked Matt for your number from when you had exchanged information after the accident, a knowing look in his eye when he gave it to him. “Gonna ask her on a date or what?” Matt teased him, which he ignored completely.
“Don’t pretend like I didn’t hear some interesting noises coming from your room last night!” He shouts as Chris runs downstairs to be alone in his room.
His heart sank when you didn’t answer his call and he chalked it up to the fact that you were probably just tired and needed sleep. Which he desperately needed as well but he couldn’t help and wait for you to text or call him back as he made himself busy, cleaning up his room and washing your clothes when he found them still lying on his bathroom floor.
After a couple hours passed though, he lost hope of getting your phone call and finally laid down, deciding he should get some rest. He tossed and turned for a while though, unable to get the memory of last night out of his head.
The look in your eyes when you told him to touch you. The way your lips felt on his, your hands in his hair. The sweet sounds you made as he tasted you. The way you clenched around his fingers as he made you orgasm, the way his name sounded as you screamed it.
Fuck. He was down bad and he knew it.
There was an infectious energy between you two and he craved more of it. He finally fell asleep thinking of you and when he woke up, the sun was setting.
Matt and Nick forced him to come out of his room and eat something. He talked with them for a while, avoiding mentioning you. He took a shower and was about to turn on a TV show to try and get his mind off you when you called. He couldn’t help the goofy smile that plastered his face as he answered, grateful to hear your voice again.
Hours later that night, when you and him had finally hung up, he already knew. It had only been a day, but he just knew he wanted more time with you, to take care of you in all the ways you deserved. When you told him you would be on a hiking trip the next day and wouldn’t have service to text him, he couldn’t ignore the way it made his heart sink.
He was falling for you, head over heels.
As soon as you got back to your hotel, you were exhausted and your feet ached. You took a shower and lay down, sending Chris a quick text message.
Hey :) Just got home, I think my feet might fall off lol. It was great though, I’ll send you pictures in the morning. Sorry I can’t talk tonight but call me when you wake up!
The next few days passed incredibly fast. Chris had to go to Boston unfortunately, but he told you he would be back the day before you left to go back home.
You and your friends spent time at the beach, walked the Hollywood Walk of Fame, danced at the club, and did all the things you had came to do. It truly was the best vacation you had been on.
You and Chris texted nonstop and stayed up talking on the phone when you could. He was one of the sweetest people you had met, and the more you got to know him, the more you wanted nothing but to spend every second with him. How could your feelings grow so strong in such a short time?
The night Chris came back home, you were in your hotel room, most of your belongings packed and ready to go. You were in your nicest set of silk pajamas, brushing your hair for the hundredth time as you waited for him to arrive.
You both agreed that he would come over with the clothes you left at his house, and you could give him his. But you both knew it was more than that. There was unfinished business, and as eager as you were to finish it, you were still a bit nervous.
Chris arrived a few minutes earlier then he said he would, a soft knock sounding at your door that summoned those damn butterflies again.
You took a deep breath, opening the door to reveal him there, cheeky smile as always, both of his arms resting on the door frame above him. He was wearing jeans and one of his fresh love t-shirts. Does this man ever not look good?
“Fancy seeing you here.” He says as you step aside, allowing him to walk in. You laugh, going over to grab his clothes for him.
He sets a bag with yours in it on the table in your room. As you go to hand the clothes to him, he doesn’t take them right away.
You hold it out awkwardly, an expectant look on your face as he raises his eyebrows at you. “Are you not gonna take them?” You ask, lowering your arms down.
“Is that it then?” He responds, giving you a look that has your heart starting to beat faster. “What do you mean?” You say, dragging it out longer. You couldn’t just jump his bones the minute he walked in, could you?
“Don’t play stupid with me, Y/N.” He speaks lowly, making your heart feel like it’s doing flips inside your chest. He pushes the clothes in your arms down to the floor and moves closer to you, now inches from your face.
“Do you know how crazy you drive me? I haven’t stopped thinking about you since you left.” He says quietly. You feel his breath across your lips as he moves even closer, smirking at the obvious effect he has on you, as a deep blush fans across your face. He places his hands on either side of your face, his thumbs stroking softly. “You have no idea of all the things I wanna do to you…” he breaths, his lips brushing yours. “Then show me.” You whisper.
He wastes no time placing his lips on yours as you kiss him back, your mouth opening to allow his tongue to tangle with yours as your arms go up to wrap around his neck. He moves his hands down to your hips as they slip under your thin shirt, the feeling of his hands on your bare skin giving you tingles down your spine. He slips his hands to your ass, squeezing tightly, making you moan in his mouth. “Jump.” He instructs and as you do, he picks you up, your legs wrapping around his waist.
He walks towards your bed, your lips still joined in a sloppy kiss, setting you down on it and hovering on top of you.  You can’t control the moans that slip from your mouth as he leaves spongy, wet kisses down your neck and chest, removing your shirt and his in the process, and you allow your body to respond to his commands, and to his satisfaction he discovers you don’t have a bra on so he can leave more love bites on your breasts.
He takes his time sucking on them and rolling his tongue slowly over each of your nipples. You wrap your legs around his waist, feeling how hard he is, and you can’t help but buck your hips up into his, causing him to moan out, his mouth travelling back up to your neck which seems to be his favorite spot to kiss you.
He notices the hickeys he left on you the first night you spent together and smirks at you as he pulls his head up, whispering in your ear. “Do you like seeing my marks on you? Does it make you wet knowing that you’re all mine baby?” Fuck. This man will be the death of you.
“Yes, Chris.” You breath out, again bucking your hips up onto his rock hard dick currently straining through his jeans. He hums in satisfaction, grabbing your wrists in one hand and holding them above your head. “If you keep doing that, I’m not gonna last.” He warns, his fucked-out expression as he looks at you, making your already wet center soaking.
Of course, this makes you grind on him again, the feeling of it too good to stop. He grips your wrists tighter in his hand, undoing his belt and taking it off his jeans. He then wraps it around your wrists, belting them together tight enough to where you can’t move them but not too tight to where it’s uncomfortable for you.
“Is this okay?” he asks, pausing to look into your eyes, searching for any hesitation. “Yes.” You respond, your heart racing and pussy throbbing so much it almost hurts. “Promise? Just tell me to stop if you need me to.” He says, sliding your silk shorts down your legs, discarding them on the floor.
“Yes, I promise.” You say back, anticipating his next move. He bites his lips, his eyes taking in your naked body, your lace panties the only thing left. “So beautiful, princess. Just for me.” he whispers as if he’s saying it to himself, but you hear him and you think you just might pass out from how sweet it sounds.
He pulls you slightly down the bed, your hips on the edge as he leans down, knees hitting the floor, his head now level between your legs.
His blue eyes burn into yours as he wraps your thighs around his face and wastes no time pulling your panties aside to let his tongue slick through your wet folds, up and down, side to side on your clit and then back down to tease your entrance. You cry out loudly, throwing your head back and squeeze your thighs around his head relentlessly which only makes him hold you in place even tighter, ensuring you’ll have more bruises in the morning.
The position he has you in and the constriction of his belt around your wrists is enough to send you over the edge. The feeling is indescribable, and your whole body is ablaze with euphoria.
It doesn’t take long until you feel yourself close to an orgasm as he moans dirty words against you. “Fuck baby, I missed you. I touched myself so many times remembering how good you taste.” His voice sends deep vibrations through you. “Are you gonna cum for me princess? I want you to cum all over my tongue.”
He then grabs your hips, guiding them to thrust against his face as you ride his tongue. “Oh my God, yes Chris!” You scream, letting him use your body to get off on him.  You cum hard, your body shaking as you continue to moan his name. He helps you ride it out, his hands gently rubbing your legs and thighs and he gets up to take the belt off, rubbing your wrists as well.
He kisses you softly as you catch your breath. You feel fueled by lust, the need to make him moan your name strong when you look him in the eyes, an idea popping into your head. “I want you fuck my throat.” You say, the surprise in his face makes you laugh but you’re serious as you sit up to unbutton his jeans and pull them down his legs.
“Yeah?” He responds, a playful fire in his eyes. “Mhm.” You hum, biting your lip and the innocent look in your eyes almost makes him lose it then and there. He stands up at the edge of the bed and you turn your body the opposite way, laying down flat so now your head hangs off the edge.  
“Tap my thigh if you need me to stop, okay?” He says, his breathing heavy as he pulls his dick out of his boxers and from the view you currently have, it looks huge, veins running along his shaft and precum oozing out of the tip. He brings it to your mouth, and you open to wrap your lips around it, your tongue swirling around him teasingly. “Fuck…” He whimpers lowly, trying to contain himself as he slides it further slowly, your saliva coating him.
 Your cheeks hollow around him and he pauses halfway, letting you adjust to him. He waits a few seconds before going deeper, brushing the back of your throat, making you slightly gag. He moans loudly at the feeling, which makes you hum around him. You are enjoying every minute of this.
He starts to slowly thrust himself down your throat, careful to pause every now and then when he feels you gag. But you quickly get used to it and reach up to grab his hand, motioning for him to continue. He picks up the pace, loud moans now leaving his mouth which only makes you wetter. “Fuuuuckk… Y/N. Feels so good.” He breathes out. He wants to cum down your throat so badly but at this point he needs to feel himself inside you more than he’s ever needed anything.
He pulls out and helps you back into an upright position on the bed, laying you down against the pillows. “Please tell me you’re on the pill.” He says, pulling your panties off and discarding them somewhere along with the pile of clothes forming on the floor. “Yes.” You respond, grateful you were because you wanted nothing more than to feel his bare skin against yours.
He takes your legs, spreading you open for him again and rubs his cock against your entrance teasingly. “Please, Chris. I need you.” You whimper, gripping his arms and wrapping your legs around his lower back. “No need to beg, sweetheart. You got me.” He responds as he pushes himself inside you.
You both moan in ecstasy at the feeling, your eyes rolling back as he continues to sink himself all the way into you. “God, Chris…” You say, a slight burning as you adjust to his size.
He groans loudy, thrusting into you slowly, the sight of your blissful expression and the way your tits bounce with each movement almost sending him over the edge. You meet his hips with yours each time, uncontrollable moans pouring out of you. “I love making you sound like this baby. Tell me only I can make you feel this good, Y/N.” He says, his breath shaky but his grip on your legs strong.
“Yes, Chris. Only you can do this to me. Feels so- ah- so gooood.” You respond, at this point ready to do anything he says. The feeling of him inside you is like no other. He moves harder and faster, hitting your g spot with each thrust.
You clench around him and he feels your wetness drip down his cock. The pleasure you give him is unmatched but the way he feels being close to you like this, your bodies becoming one has him in a state of bliss. He knows you’re close and wraps you tighter around him, his face falling to yours, one hand pressing into the mattress, the other hand pressing down slightly on your abdomen.
You cry out at the sensation, wrapping your arms around his neck and tugging his hair.
“Can you cum again for me baby? Please… I wanna fill you up while you scream my name.” He says, his hips slamming into you, pounding you over and over again. “Please baby. Please cum for me.” The needy sound in his voice and the pace of his thrusting brings you to your second orgasm, clenching around his cock and releasing all over him.
Your whimpers are swallowed by him as he kisses you, his orgasm shortly coming after yours, spilling himself inside you. You both gasp for air, completely spent, and he stays there for a few minutes, holding you as you both catch your breath.
Once you both have settled down, he grabs a damp towel and cleans you up. You lay together, Chris rubbing circles on your back as you hold him. “Goodnight, princess.” He whispers and you both drift off to a peaceful sleep.
The next morning you and Chris spend exploring each other’s bodies in every possible way in the time you have left before you have to check out of the hotel.
Under the sheets, he covers every inch of your body in kisses. In the shower, he fucks you up against the glass, pulling your wet hair from behind you. On the couch, you ride him until your legs shake, while he whimpers in your ear.
When it came time for you to leave, you tried not to cry but it was bittersweet. You and Chris had shared something special, and you both agreed there was more between you two then just amazing sex.
He made you promise to call and text him anytime you could, and the good thing was, your hometown was on the East Coast which would make it easier for you guys to meet up when he visited Boston.
And you kept your promises while he kept his, each time you got to see each other was better than the last. You couldn’t get enough of each other, and he made you feel so comfortable in your own skin. You silently thanked the universe for putting the events of that night of the accident into motion because if you hadn’t met Chris, life wouldn’t be the same.
chris & y/n:
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a/n: and there it is!!! my first series completed :) pleaseeee let me know what yall thought! matt series next???
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redrandomposts · 17 days ago
Note
till narrowly missing ivan in every universe, either literally or figuratively, makes me giggle and cry at the same time AUUHSHSJSH if he was a regressor/reincarnator and og/alnst!till was watching his later incarnations, mans would be bald from tearing his hair out in frustration
"LOOK BACK MF LOOK BACK, YOU JUST MISSED HIM"
"THATS NOT WHAT HE MEANT AND YOU KNOW IT"
"NOW IS NOT THE TIME TO HAVE YOUR NTH SEXUALITY CRISIS, IVAN IS MOVING AWAY TOMORROW. MOVE IT"
and imagine his previous incarnations from other failed lifetimes watching the current lifetime with him and theyre all in the same frustrated state 😭
"can we PLEASE have one lifetime where we dont end up breaking his heart ? can we PLEASE—"
— 🌦️
HAHAHAHAHA LMAOOOOO
doomed lovers and tills watching it all happen, kicking and screaming
everytime an incarnation pops up in their little hell, he is kicked and beaten up and treated as a less-than-human being until the next one meets ivan. and then they're too focused watching how till (yes, that's you, a dumbass) misses every smile and glimmer of eyes and heartbreak that ivan shows.
"what the fuck?! what's he doing?! ivan is right there, don't go hitting on her - fuck! who is that idiot!"
"that idiot is you! do you remember how you made ivan your best man at your wedding?!"
"says the one had an arranged marriage with him then went to war and came home in love with a nurse!"
"all of you are idiots!"
and none of the tills know og till's backstory. most of the time he's writing songs and playing the guitar, as all of them do, but in a more extreme way. there's a little library with all the songs the tills have made, each shelf a different life. og till's is a whole bookshelf, but the ones about ivan only starts after he first appeared here.
(there's also the songs each and every ivan has made about till, for till, to till. those are treated much better than the ones the tills haphazardly throws into their respective shelves. they're encased in gold and glass, just as unattainable as ivan seems to be.)
extra reactions according to some of my aus (except it's all the bad ends and ooc??):
omegaverse
"...what the fuck?"
"WHAT'S A PHEROMONE?! ALPHA? THAT'S SO CRINGEY? WTF"
"GUYS!!! IVAN CAN BE PREGNANT-"
"-SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP-"
"holy fuck"
"it was indeed a fuck"
"did you know ivan could moa-"
"fucking hell we're all tills we're all here we all know!"
"BLOOD! GET A TISSUE YOU FREAK-"
"HALF OF US HAVE NOSEBLEEDS WDYM"
"please please please till hE IS PREGNANT-"
"..."
"what the fuck."
"HE'S DEAD?"
"guys i don't ever wanna get ivan pregnant if that's what's going to happen"
android au
"...he owns ivan..?"
"THAT'S NOT FAIR?? WHAT DID HE EVER DO TO DESERVE IVAN??"
"surely they fall in love, right?"
"don't fucking jinx it, you moron!"
"ivan's so cute... look! he's cutting the veggies into flowers!"
"hey! till! say thank you to ivan!!"
"ugh, can't he just get out the studio so i can see ivan??"
"till, can't you just be a stay at home musician?!"
"aww!! aren't those flowers in the stitching?"
"oh my god ivan hand sewed him clothes?!"
"that's not fair! ivan! you can't just give things to the idiot! or else!! ...or else."
"...you fucking jinxed it!!! ivan!!! you can't die!"
"how'd i know that they'd just shoot and never stop shooting?"
"WHAT IS WRONG WITH THEM??"
"i'll fucking BEAT THEM UP I SWEAR."
"??? why's he only just checked the cameras now since he got ivan?"
"...ivan's voice is so heavenly."
"..."
zombie au
"is it another boring one? haven't we already seen till and ivan have normal lives and drift apart or something else?"
"maybe this time, till will..."
"shut UP! CROW'S MOUTH, I SWEAR"
"nevermind that is nOT NORMAL FUCK"
"OH MY GOD HE IS ROTTING AND MOVING??"
"IVAN GET AWAY FROM THERE -"
"...ivan?"
"FUCK! HE DID IT AGAIN!"
"TILL YOU FUCKER GO BACK FOR HIM!!"
"...at least we still have ivan."
"...and till knows he loves ivan."
"...and they kissed."
".....oh fucking hell, why are you so happy?! ivan's basically till's dog! till doesn't deserve him!"
"well, as long as they cure ivan, they'll be together for real, right?"
"..."
"YOU FUCKING JINXED IT-"
"WHY'D THAT RANDO JUST SHOOT IVAN???
mermaid au
"oh my god he's a fish -"
"- ivan looks like a prince!"
"??? how can you be so rude to ivan!"
"why are his thoughts so weird? ivan's a human, not some pearl! he has dignity!"
"he's much better than some pearl, too."
"till knows he loves ivan, right??? surely??? with those thoughts..."
"i wanna see ivan's eyes...."
"i wanna see ivan's smile..."
"fuck! till, just speak to him god damnit!"
"oh my god!!! ivan!!!"
"??? where's his fishy parts?? ow, don't hit me-"
"...he looks so fine."
"hey! he's sixteen! you are definitely not sixteen, you fucking homewrecker!!"
"homewrecker?! i didn't cheat!!"
"you wrecked your and ivan's house life!"
"what?"
"where'd the letter come from??"
"how's there sea foam???"
"IVANNNN!"
"HE'S DEAD? JUST LIKE THAT?"
"HE DESERVED MORE YOU FUCKER-"
===
anyways im going to edit my masterlist to be better ig
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honeylations · 2 years ago
Text
- Angry Pupu -
KIM CHAEWON x FEM!READER
Prompt: Chaewon is known for her anger issues, always yelling at the smallest things whereas you’re her calm and collected girlfriend, always so soft spoken and doing everything with a cute smile. Your members wonder how you two ended up dating despite the obvious opposite personalities.
Warnings/Notes: cute pupu, angry pupu, reader is adorable tooooo, soft and fluffy, a mix of comedy
———
“YAH WHO ATE MY MINT CHOCO ICE CREAM!”
———
“YAH WHO USED MY HAIR STRAIGHTENER? WAS IT YOU HUH YUNJIN? WHY THE FUCK DO YOU NEED A STRAIGHTENER WHEN YOU’RE NOT EVEN STRAIGHT YOURSELF!”
———
“WHERE THE HELL ARE MY TAMPONS?!”
———
“WHO WENT INTO MY ROOM AND TOOK MY FAVOURITE PEN?!”
———
The members lost count at the amount of times their leader had screamed today and you seemed to be the only person unbothered by it. Sakura had just finished taking pills for the headache she received from hearing the short girl’s anger.
“I swear this is her new record. How is her throat not hurting?” Sakura whined, rubbing her temple and flopping down on the couch next to you.
“How are you even dating her, Y/n?” Yunjin groans as she joins you two with a bowl of popcorn in her hand.
“Y/n is like the off switch for Chaewon’s tantrums” Kazuha appeared shortly after with a whisper, tensing when she heard Chaewon’s little feet stomp downstairs.
“WHAT DID YOU SAY ZUHA?!”
The youngest Japanese girl ran to you as a shield, angering the leader even more. “BACK OFF MY GIRLFRIEND, NAKAMURA!”
Kazuha squeaked and ran to Yunjin instead, not daring to say another word. Eunchae comes in with a bowl of strawberries and feeds you one before going upstairs to finish her Lilo and Stitch marathon. You hummed at the delicious taste of the fruit and turned to your girlfriend who got jealous of the hand feeding gesture between you and the maknae.
“We should buy more strawberries, love. They taste amazing” You spoke with a smile, Chaewon’s anger disappearing almost immediately.
She cupped your face and pecked your lips. “You’re so fricking cute. ISNT SHE GIRLS? SAY IT TO HER!”
The 3 girls sitting on the couch flinched and started complimenting you chaotically, voices going over each other, not wanting an ass beating from their short tempered leader.
“TOO MUCH COMPLIMENTS! BACK OFF!”
“Love, calm down please” You said, caressing her arm and Chaewon obeyed, sitting in your lap.
“Ok, babe”
“Whipped” Yunjin commented, earning a couch cushion to the face. “OW! God Y/n, I want you to answer my question for real this time. How the hell are you dating this monster?”
“She’s not a monster. She’s my hero~” You cooed, hugging your short girlfriend tighter.
“I’ll be needing a hero if I get screamed at one more time” Kazuha muttered, seeing Chaewon glare at her.
“Chaewon? A hero? You’re saying this girl who’s scared of a mouse toy is your hero?” Sakura scoffed as the leader flipped her off.
“You’re just jealous” Chaewon hisses.
“And you’re a comedian.”
You held your girlfriend back down on your lap before she drop kicked the eldest member.
“Chae saved me from so many people before we debuted. Her yelling may be annoying to you girls but it always reminded me of why I love her! She’s so tough~ Without her anger, she wouldn’t have saved me from the bullies back in high school. She does the same now with anyone who shares hate comments about me. I’m too shy to stand up for myself like that” You explained, your heart swelling at the memories.
“Yeahhhh. Y/n was this cute little chubby nerd in high school” Chaewon grinned, pinching your cheeks again.
“Woah wait what, okay, this was something we haven’t been told before” Yunjin said, adjusting her sitting position and looking at you, Chaewon growling.
“Oh please, pull your head out of your tiny ass Kim, I’m not gonna take your girl. I just wanna know more about this cute little chubby nerd you were just talking about” The American added.
Chaewon got off your lap and sat next to you instead, pushing Sakura further into Kazuha who was already getting squished. The younger Japanese member gave up and sat on the ground instead, snatching Yunjin’s popcorn bowl.
“Yeah it’s true. I wasn’t that good looking in high school” You shyly smiled.
“Hey don’t say that. Nobody starts off as a hottie, like, me in high school with the dark ass eyebrows that didn’t match my hair colour? Goddamn” Yunjin joked, making you all laugh. (A/N: I’m not actually talking about Yunjin like that guyssss! The whole dark eyebrow thing is something I added based on my experience in high school💀💀)
“I’m being honest, I swear! I was super chubby, wore these thick purple glasses and always got bullied for reading books all the time. See?” You pulled out a photo of you in high school and all the girls (besides Chaewon) gasped.
In the photo was 14 year old Y/n with a bob cut and thick fringe, using one hand to hold a thick novel to her chest while the other put up a peace sign. Your purple glasses were indeed huge and you smiled widely, presenting the braces you had at the time.
“Oh and here’s Chae” You zoomed out of the photo and 14 year old Chaewon was exposed. She looked the same, only difference was the long hair in the photo. Sakura squinted her eyes and noticed how Chaewon’s hand was around your waist in the picture.
“Awwww! Chae did you have a crush on Y/n at this time?” The eldest asked as you closed your phone and returned it to your pocket.
“Yeah I did. Couldn’t tell if she liked me back though”
You blushed and slapped your girlfriend’s arm. “I did! I told you before, I just thought you were too good for a nerd like me”
“Nerdy y/n is cute, don’t get me wrong, but you’re absolutely stunning right now. Hellooooo? Your body? Your abs? Your facial structure? It’s so hard to believe that was you in the picture” Kazuha complimented.
“I just finally took the initiative in eating healthier and working out” You shrugged, letting Chaewon play with your fingers.
“Was Chaewon this loud back in highschool too?” Yunjin asked with a blunt tone.
“YAH IM GONNA KILL YOU, HUH YUNJIN!” The shortest member screamed and jumped onto the tallest member, shoving the couch pillow into her face.
You rolled your eyes with a smile and looked at Sakura. “You grab her legs, I’ll grab her arms”
“Absolutely not, she kicked my face last time we did that. Get Kazuha”
The said member stood up. “Sorry I don’t speak nor understand Korean very well so imma just go” Kazuha quickly says and runs upstairs to join Eunchae.
“Stop pretending you loser!” You screamed out to Kazuha in Japanese, knowing damn well this wasn’t the first time she’s done that. (A/N: Fun fact for everyone, Kazuha sometimes pretends that she doesn’t understand what the members are saying to her in Korean😭)
You sighed and stood up, patting down your pants. “Come on, babe, let’s go to bed”
“WHY DO YOU ALWAYS PISS ME OFF WITH EVERYTHING YOU SAY!” Chaewon continued to scream while violating Yunjin with the pillow.
“Y/N HELP PLEASE!”
This was gonna be a long night.
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13as07 · 8 months ago
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Elegant #1
(Shino Aburame)
[Artwork is not mine! Credit to JUHiHUJi]
Requested by: Anonymous
Word Count: 3,502
Warnings and/or Pre-Notes:
It's a western theme wedding style cause I was lazy and didn't want to do research
Alcohol Use
———————————————————————
     I let out another strained breath, glancing over my wedding dress in the body mirror again. What if Shino doesn't like the style? What if he's getting cold feet? What if he leaves me alone at the altar? What if -
     "Wow," a voice says softly, drawing out the word. "You're so... beautiful." My sights jump up, glancing in the mirror to figure out who's behind me. Naruto's frame fills the mirror as he walks closer, settling behind me as his eyes jump over my dress. He's smiling ear to ear, with stars hanging in his eyes as he looks at me. "You're the second prettiest bride I've ever seen."
     "Second?" I ask, smiling back at him.
     "Ya, sorry but you can't beat out how pretty Hinata was at our wedding. She'll always hold that first place price."
     I laugh at the love-struck newlywed. Hinata and Naruto got married two months ago, and I swear he still looks at her the way he did at their ceremony.
     "Now, I know Sakura will drag me out by my ear if she catches me in here, the whole bad energy from seeing you - "
     "That's only for the groom, Naruto. Groom's men aren't included in that," I correct, shifting around so we can face each other. My squadmate looks pretty nice when he gets dressed up, even if his hair is still messy and pointed every which way.
     Naruto's cheeks dusty a slight pink as he rubs the back of his head. "Oh, right. Anyway, I remember the whole 'new, old, borrowed, blue' thing from my wedding. I don't know if you're doing that like Hinata did but I did bring you something blue just in case."
     "I wasn't planning on it but I appreciate the thought, Naruto," I tell him, leaning forward to wrap my arms around him.
He wraps his arms around me too, being careful not to mess up my perfectly constructed look for my special day. "Anyway, you want to see my gift?"
"Yes, I do."
"Just so you know, this is fully from me. I did it - well Hinata stitched it - but it was fully my idea, all of it," Naruto rambles, digging through his pockets in search of my gift.
He tugs out a square cloth, the main color being a rich blue with the edges being his signature obnoxious orange color. Naruto holds it in front of me, letting the cloth tumble undone to its full size. It's no bigger than a napkin. In careful stitches is the quote 'Trust is knowing that when a squad mate pushes you, they're doing it because they care'.
"Naruto," I mumble, reaching forward to hold the ends of the cloth.
"Pretty nifty, huh? Hinata had a section of Neji's robe turned into a handkerchief, so I asked her to do the same with my old jacket. I figured you could pin it under your dress. If not that's cool too. Oh! And don't worry, Hinata cleaned the material like a bazillion times."
     "Naruto," I call again, tears in my eyes as I lunge forward, wrapping my arms around his neck again. "You dumb gushy fox," I say with a smile and tears of appreciation.
     "Do you not like it? Oh! Please don't cry, you're going to ruin your makeup," he rushes out, carefully slipping at the water that threatens to ruin the makeup I spent an hour on.
"I love it, Naruto," I tell him, smiling at him to send the point home. "You big goof. Would you pin it to my dress?" I ask, shifting my skirt around to figure out where I want it pinned.
"Of course! Let me go find a pin."
————————————
"Just some final touches," Sakura mumbles, running the makeup brush over my cheeks again. "Oh, and a few puffs of perfume," she says, jumping to her feet and rummaging around the table covered in different products.
     "I can't wear perfume, you know that. It messes with Shino's kikaichus."
     "So, you know how Shino has been queasy off and on the last couple of months?" She mumbles, now digging through her bag.
     "Sakura," I utter, my tone warning because of the way our conversation is heading.
     "Well, it's because Hinata and I have been testing different perfumes," She finishes, standing up with a small box in her hands.
     "Sakura!"
     "Oh calm down, it was only a handful of times and only a squirt or two every time. No Shinos and no kikaichus were harmed. Besides, it’s your wedding day. You should be wearing a new perfume to celebrate. It just so happens to be the only perfume that doesn't annoy or make your husband's parasites sick. Now come here and let me spray you down."
     I roll my eyes at her but do get up from my spot. I twirl in a slow circle, letting Sakura coat me in the flower-scented perfume. "See? So much better, plus you can wear perfume more often since it doesn't mess with Shino."
     "I guess so," I mutter, shaking my head at her. I swear Sakura never uses her brain outside of missions.
     "Alright, I'll leave your fancy new scent here on the table," She says, making a show of putting it back in the box and leaving the box on the table. "We need to get going for your first look and such." Shino isn't much of an emotional man and is rarely emotional around other people, so we decided a private first look would be best.
     She leads the way, my veil in her hold, held above her head so it doesn't drag on the ground as we head outside. "Wait here," she mutters after the short walk, stopping long enough to situate the clips of my veil into my hair.
Sakura slips away, leaving me to admire the cherry blossoms as she goes looking for my husband. I do just that, walking along the small path and toying with the heavy branches being weighed down by the weight of their blooms.
Enjoying the scenery helps with some of the anxiety surrounding today. I'm more than thrilled to spend the rest of my life with Shino, but it's still nerve-racking to think about all the things that could go wrong today, let alone the future.
"You don't always have to be such a lug!" Sakura's voice rings out after a few minutes, tugging my focus in the direction we came from earlier.
My best friend is dragging my very soon-to-be husband down the short path, a blindfold wrapped around his eyes to ensure he's not cheating. Shino looks nice, dressed fancy for once and his hair slicked back instead of loose and bushy like usual. "I do not see the point in doing this. I will see her when she walks down the aisle," he grumbles, slowly trudging after Sakura as she pulls him my way.
"I don't want you loosening your macho-ness because you burst into tears in front of everyone," I tease, causing his head to snap in the direction of my voice.
A group of his kikaichus slips out, eagerly flapping their way toward me. Some stay buzzing around me, with a few others clinging to different parts of my clothing. This has been a common thing during our relationship, Shino's bugs ditching him to investigate me or chew at a bit of my chakra. I freaked out the first time it happened but he insists they mean no harm and it helps him feel close to me. Since then, it's come to be something that calms me down, which I need with how loud my heartbeat seems to be.
"I would not and will not cry," he mumbles, stopping in the spot Sakura leaves him in.
"Lug," she murmurs before turning toward me. "I'm going to go make sure everything is settled. Once you two are done, send Shino in and come wait in the corridor, alright?"
"Alright, I'll see you in a few minutes."
With that, Sakura turns on her heels to head towards the waiting guests, leaving the two of us alone for the first time today. "You don't think you're going to cry when you see me?" I ask, reaching forward to toy with his sunglasses that Sakura slithered the blindfold under.
"No, I do not," he whispers, his hands sliding up to wrap around my arms, causing more of his kikaichus to spill out, coating both of our arms now.
I slowly slide my touch backward, taking my time to rest his glasses on his head before I tug at the knot keeping the cloth in place around his eyes. Once the cloth is loose, I take a step back, letting the material dangle from my fingertips.
Shino's eyes are squinted because of the setting sun. I knew they would be, but I want to see his whole reaction especially since this is something that won't happen again. His sight crawls around my body, falling down my dress like a waterfall before climbing back up my frame like a mountain. "Perhaps," he starts, voice cracking as he repeatedly blinks. "Perhaps, I was wrong."
     Once the words are out, he breaks, tears rolling down his cheeks, chasing away the kikaichus that have been clinging to his face. Shino moves forward, enveloping me in his arms so he can hold me. "You look elegant, my Ladybug," he whispers into my hair, his little friends following their leader and knotting themselves in my locks.
     When Shino pulls back, his focus shifts from me to helping his beetles untangle their legs, being careful not to mess up my hair and not to hurt his bugs. He spends the whole time trying to blink away the fresh tears forming in his eyes; he fails, forming water lines down his cheeks.
     "Oh, Shino," I coo when he pulls the rest of the way apart from me. I cup his face, using my thumbs to brush away his tears. "You look very elegant too."
"Not as elegant as you, my dear," he mutters, leaning down to brush a kiss against my lips.
————————————
I shift my dress again, making sure it's laid perfectly as I wait for Kakashi to join me. There's about ten minutes until I'm expected to walk down the aisle with my Sensei giving me away to my husband, to my Shino. My nerves have evened out since our time together under the cherry blossoms, leaving me filled with nothing but joy.
"There's my gorgeous daughter-in-law," Shibi's soft voice calls from behind me.
I turn a bit, making sure not to mess up my carefully laid-out dress and my thin veil settled on top of it. I decided on a royal-length veil, more so because that's what Shino wanted than me, but it is his wedding as well. If he wants me to wear a long veil that trails behind me, I don't mind.
"You look lovely," Shibi compliments again, making his way forward. He stops in front of me, careful hands cupping my cheeks. He tilts my head down, brushing a gentle kiss to my hairline. "You are beautiful. The most beautiful bride my son could ask for."
"Thank you," I mutter, tilting my head back up so I can look at my father-in-law. A soft smile is on his face as he looks down at me. This is one of the few times I've seen Shibi truly content, which only solidifies my decision to marry his son. Shibi is the smartest man I know, and if he agrees with my decision it must be the right one.
"I have a gift for you, a temporary one," he mutters, pulling away from me. "Since Shino and you decided to have a night wedding, I figured a little extra glow would be nice," Shibi tells me, throwing up a few hand signals.
Soft flapping fills the space, a small squirm of bugs following the command they were given. "What are you doing?" I ask, tilting my head backward, watching the bugs settle in a neat line along the hem of my veil.
"Watch," he orders, shifting his hand placement to send out another command.
The bugs shift their wings, a soft glow coming from them, decorating my veil with the soft yellow coloring. "Shibi!" I call in joy, lunging forward to catch him in a hug. "It's beautiful! Thank you."
"You're welcome," he utters, unclinging my arms from around him. Shibi isn't much of a touchy person, a trait his son inherited too. "After the ceremony, I'll need them back, of course."
"Of course," I echo, sending him another smile.
     He nods his head, letting his hands fall back down to his sides. "I should get seated before the ceremony begins. I look forward to seeing you walk down the aisle," Shibi mutters, nodding his head once more before he slips around the corner, heading into the crowd that's eagerly waiting for me to enter.
     I adjust my dress again, carefully toying with my veil so I don't hurt or knock off any of the lightening bugs clinging to it. I have a few moments of silence, giving my anxiety the chance to crawl into my rib cage again. After today, Shino and me will be bound together forever, until the end of our time.
     "There you are," my Sensei calls, pulling me out of my head. "I didn't know you were done getting ready yet." He mutters, adjusting the pin-comb that's holding my veil in place. "You look like an angel."
     "You don't look too bad yourself," I tease, glancing over Kakashi's put-together look. It's weird seeing my Sensei out of his usual outfit.
     He rolls his eyes, letting out a disapproving hum. Despite the small banter, Kakashi still leans forward, resting the side of his head against mine with his arms loosely wrapped around me. "The lightning bugs are a nice touch," he whispers, squeezing me before he tugs himself away.
"They're a temporary gift from Shibi."
"Well, I have a permanent gift for you. Just don't tell the others, they might get jealous."
"Ya?" I ask, watching Sensei dig through his pockets, the familiar sound of our training bells filling the air when he tugs them out of his pocket.
Kakashi hums again, giving me a rare masked and closed-eyed smile. "Naruto gave you his gift already, yes?" He asks, clinking the bells so they'll ring again.
"Yes, he did," I answer, lifting a layer of my dress to show off the handkerchief Naruto pinned to my dress.
He nods again, bending down so he can kneel on the ground. Kakashi works carefully, unlike my clumsy squad mate. Sensei moves slowly, unpinning the handkerchief and laying it on his knee so he can wrap his bells around the pin before pinning both items under my dress again. "There, now you'll have all three of us attached to you during the night."
"When did you get all gushy?" I tease, shaking my leg a bit. You can't hear the bells around the fabric but I can feel their imprint against me.
"When Naruto got married, and again now. I'm sure it'll happen again when Sakura and Sasuke get married too," Kakashi answers, straightening up before taking his spot next to me. "Are you ready to do this?" He asks, prompting his arm out toward me.
     "As ready as ever," I answer, clinging to the bend of his elbow.
     "That's my girl," he mutters, poking his head around the corner to send Sakura the signal that we're ready.
————————————
Shino's hands cling to me for dear life, his social anxiety at an all-time high as he spins us in slow, small circles. His left-hand grips mine, his ring digging into my fingers, threatening to leave an imprint. His right-hand rests on my waist, clinging to the material of my dress. "I despise dancing," he mutters, focus flickering around the millions of eyes watching us have our first dance.
"I know."
"Everyone is watching us."
"I know."
"You are my wife now."
"You are my husband now," I echo, shifting forward, I loop my arms around his neck, laying his head on my shoulder. Shino gratefully takes the change, his arms tight around my waist and his nose buried into my neck.
We sway, still moving in slow circles around the dance floor. "I will not be dancing again tonight," he whispers into my neck, the feeling of his kikaichus exploring the new position, little legs tugging at the material of my dress.
"I know, I appreciate you doing this though."
"Of course, Ladybug."
Shino reluctantly pulls away from me as the song comes to an end, fresh tears raining on his face. "What's wrong?" I ask, hands jumping up to wipe away his tears before anyone else notices.
"Nothing, my dear," he answers, fingers wrapping around mine to pull them away from his face. "You... are perfect," he mutters, glancing around before quickly pressing a kiss to my fingertips. "Can we go sit now?"
"Yes we can," I murmur, smiling from ear to ear as my husband tugs me off the dance floor.
Cheers from the guests fill the room, a few of them jumping up from their spots to take up the dance floor as the next song starts. Kiba and Naruto are beaming from the head table, as are my bridesmaids; Sakura and Hinata. "Our baby is all grown up!" Kiba cheers, Hinata giggling and nodding in agreement.
"Be quiet," Shino mumbles, helping me into my chair before he sits down alongside me. Once we're situated, his hand messes with my dress, ruffling my layers in search of a small amount of skin on skin. "What's that?" He asks as his fingertips slide over the pinned presents from my squad mates, head tilting down to glance at the items.
"Bells from my Sensei and a handkerchief from Naruto," I answer, helping him move my dress out of the way.
He hums softly, fingertips digging into my knee as he clings to it. His thumb slides over my knee on repeat, a kikaichu or two crawling over his fingers, occasionally dipping down and crossing my knee. "You are perfect," he repeats, sending me a rare smile before turning to hell at Kiba again.
I smile to myself, soaking in the repeated compliment. "Well, Mrs. Aburame," Sakura teases, a huge smile on her face as well. "What does it feel like being officially married now?"
"Wonderful."
————————————
Sakura and I belt out jumbled lyrics of the song playing, the liquor in our system commanding our dancing with both of our wet blankets of partners watching. Sasuke and Shino are sat near each other, both men's full attention on us as we dance. "What do you think they're thinking right now?" She asks, her arms dangling over my shoulders as we move in beat with each other.
"Well, knowing Sasuke he's probably talking himself out of killing me and Shino might have one or two more songs in him before he gets clingy again."
Sakura lets out a loud cackle, the alcohol chipping away the bubbly cute persona she tries to maintain. Her laughter only increased when Shino starts heading our way. "You're wrong about Sasuke but it seems you were right about Shino."
"Right about what?" My husband asks, impatience in his voice as he stands next to us, both of us still swaying to the music.
     "About you wanting my attention," I answer, pulling away from my friend to wrap Shino up in my arms.
     "That is not what I want," he mutters, staying still as I squeeze him in my hold. "I wish for us to go home. I would like some alone time with my wife," Shino airs out the last word like he can't comprehend being able to use it.
     "What kind of alone time?" I ask, sliding my hands up to toy with the ends of his hair, fluttering my eyelashes at him.
     "Just... alone time," he whispers, a hint of pink dust on his cheeks. "Should I have it announced that the ceremony is over?"
     "Have them announce the party is over in thirty minutes," I mutter back, letting my arms fall to his shoulders, leaning myself against my husband. I tip my head up, lips brushing against his ear as I speak. "If you can't wait thirty minutes I'd be more than happy to give you a little... support." I let a hum out, flickering my eyes down.
     Shino's face is full red now, mouth gapping a bit. "That is not... we cannot... Ladybug," he stutters, as flustered with my straightforwardness as ever. "I am... that is something I have been excited about today, but that... that is an at-home activity."
     "I know, I'm just teasing."
     He lets out a sigh of relief, gently pulling me off of him. "Your mind is lacking the elegance the rest of you possess."
     "I know."
———————————————————————
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violetmina · 8 months ago
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Chokehold - Ch. 11
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Chokehold Masterlist
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Taglist: @roundroald @i-wished-upon-a-star-one-night @sexytholland @scraftsku35 @avastrasposts @missihart23 @ladyvillainous @elementress44 @haibara-ai-tsii @123passwort @sanscas @lulzbrokenbyfantasy @icantevenchoose @marksassybanana @a-rogue-tiddy-bot​ @itsyellow​ @lmarina2000​ @d3adite666 @casualfansoul @missrandomheart @cvstle @elianamarie-blog @1970sbitch @depressed-but-make-it-cute @loversjoy @raktajinoaddict @trisaratops-mcgee
Pairing: Billy Butcher x Fem!Reader
Word Count: 5,623
Warning: Swearing, adult themes, sexual tension and...well, Butcher.
A/N: I'm back~! Its finally here! After several months, the next chapter of this series! I promised that I would not abandon it, and I meant it. If it feels off in any way, I do apologize. And many thanks to all of you for your support and your patience. If I forgot anyone that wanted to be on the taglist, please let me know asap so I can fix it.
Two things ripped you from sleep that morning. The first was your final alarm blaring from the coffee table. The second was the abrupt awareness of a particular body missing behind you. The combination of the two had your muscles spasming into a flailing upright position, immediately revealing a slight kink in your neck as your brain tried to catch up. Your fingers fumble and flutter over the table in search of the obnoxious sound coming from your phone. Just as your hand starts to slap against the wood in groggy frustration, your eyes just make out a different set of fingers.
“Billy?” It comes out cracked and garbled from sleep.
The alarm dies quickly under his fingers and the blur in your vision shifts in time to bring him into focus, kneeling before you beside the couch. “Morning, sunshine,” he greets you with that crooked smile. “Gotta tell ya, I hear that alarm again, I'm throwing your fucking phone through the wall.”
“You -ah!” You wince as your neck twinges sharp at your attempt to swing your legs to the floor.
“Yeah, your couch did the same number on me,” he mutters. He slips his fingers to your nape, rubbing the smallest of circles there, just on the new knot. It's brief, his hand withdrawing before you can even sink into it, reaching back to bring forward a cup of coffee.
“Here. Can't send you off to Hughie with bags like that under your eyes.”
You give your thanks, taking a long draw before turning back to him. “Speaking of not looking so good, what about-?”
“Nuh-uh.” He wags back a finger at you as he stands to head out of the living room. “We had a deal. You're done playing nurse.”
You roll your eyes, knowing full well you're not going to argue with this mule. Butcher appears unfazed from the previous night's events, strutting in your apartment as his usual. The only outward indication of his escapade was the faintest peek of the liquid stitches on his head and the missing Hawaiian atrocity the blue t-shirt replaced. A very good looking replacement if anyone bothered for your opinion. But bravado and machismo are not enough to throw off what you already know - he was probably bluffing.
Taking a full gulp of coffee, you shuffle behind him towards your kitchen. The pizza box sits empty and abandoned on your counter. But next to it Butcher rifles through an unfamiliar bag, pulling out to-go boxes.
“You brought me breakfast in bed?,” you ask, smirk tight against the rim of your mug.
“Breakfast on couch,” Butcher replies without missing a beat, sliding warm styrofoam towards you before hooking a palm onto your hip. “Since ya made such a point of avoiding your bed.”
“Actually it was you making a point of avoiding my bed. You did say you wouldn't go near it if I wasn't in it, did you not?”
“Awfully cheeky for just starting that coffee.” He pushes away from the counter and pulls you in as you shrug in response. “And we could remedy that in a hurry, yeah? Being in your bed, I mean.”
“I, on the other hand,” you continue, bluntly brushing off the reply, “was avoiding sinful acts so as not to kill you.”
“Not a bad way to go, innit?” Butcher manages to wrap his arm around your back without sloshing your morning brew over either of you.
“Maybe not. But I'd hate to traumatize the others with the vivid details of what you look like naked,” you grin.
“Fuck off,” he hums before hushing you with a kiss. Then, purring into your ear, “You still haven't answered me…Your bed?”
Butcher doesn't give you much of a chance to respond. Not verbally that is. He kisses you again, longer, firmer. Warm steadily turning to hot, a slow delicious simmer. Your free hand slips along his side, just hitching under the hem to brush skin, and you can't remember this shirt feeling this soft. But you're not going to forget now.
Until he gives you something else to remember.
Butcher's grip on your hip grows firmer, and when you part your lips in invitation, his response is no different than how he handles much else - he does not hesitate. He delves to taste and you're quickly preoccupied with his own, enough to kiss back with more fervor. He nips your bottom lip and you know it's still not safe for him, not really. The concussion is still a danger…but you feel your bed pull at you like his fingers starting to tug at your jeans.
Until his phone buzzes loudly in his pocket.
“Billy…”
He shakes his head, whiskers whispering against your face. “It's nuthin’,” he breathes between kisses. “So? This a yes, lov-”
Another buzz.
You catch his wrist as he rips the cell from his pocket, barely saving the offensive thing from a warp speed trip across your apartment. When yours buzzes too on the other side of the room, the noise that rumbles out of him makes you bite your lip. He leans back from you snarling to the roof, “Fuckin’ cockblocks every fuckin’ one of ‘em!”
“That confident were you?” It comes out just a tad breathless.
He stabs a brief glare at you with a snort before finally looking over the interrupting notification. “Surprise, surprise. Hughie.”
“What did he say?”
“New orders, new case. And a little under the table meeting. Same bullshit,” Butcher grumbles. “I'm sure yours is near identical.” He looks up at you, some of the frustration leaving his face to give you a hint of a smile. “All things considered, I'm guessing you'd like me to let him know we'll be each other's plus one to the meeting?”
Butcher gives a little wink before you place your hand over his phone. His hint of humor falters when he sees you staring with furrowed brow at the text message waiting to be answered.
“...No.”
His face mirrors yours. “No? No what?” 
You look up at him, shaking your head.
He stares for only a second. Then, “Ah, I get it. I'm your new dirty secret, eh? That it?”
“No,” you reply louder, more abrupt. Had that been the tiniest edge on his playful tone? You look up at him, shaking your head. “I didn't mean that. You're not that. I mean I don't know what you - we-!” 
Something twitches in his face at ‘we’, something that makes part of you flinch, and you take a breath before speaking. “What I meant,” you answer slowly, “is that we shouldn't say anything just yet. Not to the others. I don't want anyone thinking that I didn't earn my place here, pull my weight. Especially Hughie.”
“Care to elaborate?”
“He's already shown me once how quickly he can change his mind, even more so when it comes to me doing field work. I hope I won't need you to speak to him on my behalf. But if I do, how much will your word weigh to him if he thinks it's only because we're past being friends…coworkers…what have you…” 
You trail off on that thought, cutting back to the point. “Anyway, more importantly, we've got a big mission here. And I think it would be best if the team has no questions or doubts about where everybody's heads are at. No distractions. Right?”
Butcher gives a slow nod as your words sink in. “That'd be the thing they'd do wouldn't it?” Then with a humorless laugh, “Like they don't question me, bust my balls enough already. And Hughie!” He makes a tsking sound. “Yeah, none of that. We'll deal with this Persuasion business proper first.”
He nods and makes a quick reply to Hughie before sliding his cell back into his pocket. “I best get a move on, meet up with MM while it's still early. And you best get your ass in gear. You need to keep an eye on the congresswoman.” 
Butcher smirks as he shrugs on his coat. “Real shame,” he drawls, giving you a long, parting kiss before beginning to back to your door. “Still wouldn't have minded breaking your bed.”
“Could've died,” you sing-song at him.
“Sounds like a good way to go.”
“Sounds like you're trying to tell me you wouldn't be worth a second round,” you tease.
Butcher shakes his head, a dark, heavy look rolling in his eyes at your sass. “When did I ever say it’d take only one round?” He pauses in your door. “That's a shame, love. I thought you knew me better than that.”
With a smirk your way and a glance over your apartment, he closes the door. You let out a sigh somewhere between relief and disappointment, picking at your to-go box as you remember the coffee somehow still in your hand. “Not yet,” you smile in response to his parting words.
As you eat the breakfast Butcher had delivered, you did your best to focus on the little spark of excitement in you, and ignore the last look he'd given your apartment. Ignore the sharp flicker he'd given the windows.
^^^
“We got one!”
You nearly jump as a news article slaps onto your desk. Hughie beams down at you, almost smug before sliding it closer to you. “Got one?”
“A supe. That fungi one, what's-his-face -”
“Cordycep?”
“Yep,” Hughie grins. “The asshole who was caught spraying those spores everywhere to hypnotize people. His case finally went to the judge. And the judge threw the book at him.”
You skim over the article as he leans against your cubicle wall, clearly pleased. “You're not kidding. Found guilty of all twenty-six counts of fraud, identity and grand theft, and forgery.”
“Every single one,” he says. “A long sentence. And no chance of parole at this time, or bail. We did that. We did that!”
You suppress a laugh as he takes back the article with a fist in the air. “That's kinda the point, isn't it? That's why the bureau exists.”
“I don't mean the bureau. I mean us,” he replies. Then he continues with earnest, “I know that the team has been kinda frustrated lately. We covered this case, and several like it, and it feels like we've been trying to climb shit mountain every time. But this shows that it's working. We're making a difference. And we didn't have to scrub blood out of our clothes to do it.”
“This time,” you emphasize. “We didn't have to this time. Forgive me for raining on your parade a little. But let's keep a little pragmatism here. Cordycep was a push over. Most of the supes aren't.”
He waves you off but you still notice the slight slump in his shoulders. “Whatever. Point is that we are making a little progress.”
You feel a twinge of guilt for being a bit of a realist on him. But despite that, part of you wants to celebrate with him. There has been progress for both the Boys and the bureau. Slow, grinding, frustrating progress. But still progress. Although, if Butcher were the one to measure, you would be found short today. You hadn't been able to keep an eye on Neuman as intended. Even those at work had only seen her in passing glimpses by her office.
With that in mind, you lower your voice just slightly. “Speaking of progress, are we still going over reports tonight with the team? That quarterly thing?”
Hughie nods as he straightens a little, eyes scanning for the congresswoman. “Yep. Right. Quarterly reports. Gotta make sure we're within budget and all that.”
“And are Annie and I still on for girls night?,” you ask, absently shuffling through some files. Not like you care what they are.
“Yes. Actually she hinted that she might - might - be able to stop by tonight. You know, say hello. Iron out some stuff for your upcoming bonding time.”
That certainly puts a little edge in you. You'd be lying to yourself if you thought you weren't hesitant about how the meeting would go. Yes, the whole mission and its variables were certainly part of that. But so was the fact that you now had to keep pretending like nothing was going on between you and Butcher, jiu jitsu or otherwise. Throw in the ever looming threat of Neuman's shadow, and the mutual disdain to put it politely between Annie and Butcher…
“That sounds great,” you smile wanely. “Is everybody else in on that particular detail?”
“Butcher knows,” Hughie deadpans.
“And how many new expletives did you learn from him after telling him?”
“None. Not yet, I mean. He's probably composing a whole list to shove down my throat after the meeting as we speak.”
“Wrapped with a C4 wire bow, I'm sure,” you smirk at him. You slap three files into his chest. “Here. You'll need those for tonight.”
He glares at the manila as if it's offended him while he thumbs the pages. “The hell is this?”
“Budget reports.” Your expression goes flat when his remains confused. “Neuman would want you to have those for the meeting…?”
A beat passes before you see the light bulb come on. “Oh,” he smiles sheepishly. “Riiight. Need those.”
“...How the hell are you my boss again?”
“Shut up,” he grumbles before pushing away from your cubicle to avoid the return of your smirk. Before he dips out of sight he peeps around the corner one more time. “Oh, by the way…”
“Yeah?”
Hughie spares a genuine smile. “I just wanted to let you know that, uh…I'm glad you're working again. You're kicking ass already.”
Fondness fills your chest and you return the smile before he jokingly barks an order to “kick those papers asses!”, and heads further into the bureau. You sigh at the small mountain of work on your desk before dragging a file towards you. 
Kicking more ass than you know, Hughie. Just you wait.
^^^
Homelander's too-piercing blue eyes stare at you through a thin veil of false contrition as you stare back from your seat in the Flatiron. The act is thinner than a blade's edge, and you're grateful for the filter of the LCD screen and a brown-nosed interviewer hired by Vought between you - and everyone this side of the screen - and the supe. It's the second time you've seen it air today, but it still irks as bad as the first time as Homelander lays his woes and regret about Stormfront for the first time publicly since she'd been “apprehended”.
“Fuck him,” Frenchie mutters, snapping your attention away from the TV and back to the crew. He snaps off the TV just as viciously. “And fuck that nazi bitch, whatever is left of her.”
“Can we focus?,” MM asks at his desk, his fingertips burrowing deep in his temples. “We got a lot to cover and very little time to do it.”
Hughie heaves a sigh and nods, looking at each of those present to recollect the room as he stands in the center of it. “He's right. We gotta crunch these last numbers. I'll make it quick. Let's see…MM is good on the books. You submitted that last bit of papers for that druid-wannabe supe, right?”
“Yes. Ready for you to hand off to your attorneys.”
Hughie flashes a thumbs up before turning to the seats near your desk. “Cool. Frenchie, Kimiko. Looks like I just need that last budgeting sheet for…is this a flamethrower? This looks suspiciously like a flamethro- why?”
Kimiko signs before Frenchie grins, “Research purposes.”
You hold back a snicker as Hughie presses on. “Fuck, fine, whatever. Mallory can deal with that, I guess. So that just leaves-”
“Yours truly.” Butcher's chair creaks next to you at his desk, opposite side of Kimiko, as he swivels slowly with a bit of impatience. “It's all there, mate. Double checked the numbers me self.”
“All of it?,” Hughie presses. “Your ammo and armory form was off a couple digits last month.”
“Yep. Even corrected the pornhub subscription cost on the miscellaneous page.”
“Okay, okay. That was lovely news,” Hughie grimaces as everyone else shares a chuckle. “Bleaching that from my mind and moving on. Budgeting is done. Now for the real meeting.” He glances back and forth between Butcher and MM. “Any new leads on Persuasion or Walsh?”
“Only that Walsh is hiring third party goons to try to keep Vought from crawling up his ass. Ambushed me at the club the girl talked about,” Butcher shrugs. “Patched myself up away from the hospitals, so we don't have any tails there.”
Your mind slips into the memory of your fingers running through Butcher's damp locks. It hazes briefly at the memory of calloused hands and warm lips before you remind yourself that there's a reason you and Butcher are not sitting directly next to each other right now.
“I found two other cases from the same night,” MM cuts in. “One male and one female victim, not as lucky as our first. They were from different sides of town. Vought got to them long before me though. But from what I could gather, the situations are uncannily similar. If this is a test run, this drug is going to spread fast.”
“No faster than what Walsh will allow, you mean,” Hughie interjects. “He still has to keep ahead and under Vought’s radar.”
“Any clues what it's for?,” you ask.
“I have less leads than them,” Frenchie replies, rubbing the back of his head in agitation. “After what happened with the last sample, I've had to take the experiments a little slow.”
Hughie shakes his head. “Not gonna lie, that's not great news for our timeline before the gala. How are we coming on that?”
Frenchie perks up a bit. “That I do have good news. My surveillance equipment should be here within a few days. But I will need to know where in the gala we are playing our roles. I need just a little time to make any necessary changes to it.”
Butcher gestures around the room. “So? Where do you lot all wanna be?”
There's the crackle of paper as Frenchie smooths out the schematics splayed out on his desk, Kimiko and MM leaning to peer behind him. “We all start at the top and work down, right?,” MM begins. “Fifteen floors down. We should stack. Nobody more than one floor apart from each other. So I'll take fourteen and every third floor on.”
Hughie starts ticking off fingers. “So that means…”
“Means MM,” Butcher says, rising from his desk to stride to view the schematics, “will take fourteen, eleven, eight, five, and two. The love birds have to split what's left, and they all converge in the sublevels.”
Kimiko types rapidly into her phone before showing the display to everyone. I want to be closest to either of them if they need backup, it reads. I'll take thirteen down.
“I guess that leaves me with levels divisible by three,” Frenchie shrugs.
“What kind of modifications are you thinking?,” you ask him.
“Mostly wardrobe, so I know how to disguise your surveillance gear.”
Kimiko and Hughie smile, confusing you until you hear a voice behind you pipe up, “I guess I snuck out at the right time then.”
All eyes turn and you find Annie coming into the office. While you feel Butcher's not-so-welcoming smirk bloom from his spot, you and Kimiko each greet her with a warm hug before she greets Hughie the same with a kiss tagged on. “I'm guessing this isn't the budget report we're talking about?,” she asks the room.
“We could go back to that,” Butcher grins. “Being the altruistic soul you are, Starlight, I'm sure you'd be more than happy to make a generous donation to our cause, no? And using that Seven member payroll to stick it to Vought?” He lets out a low whistle. “It'd be poetry.”
“Tempting,” she responds tersely. “But even my money is micromanaged. Getting my charity for at-risk youth off the ground has been like pulling teeth, even with all the good PR Vought is expecting. And the last thing all of you need is for Vought to be sniffing further into my ‘donations’. Don't you think?”
“If you're a stingy bitch, you can just say that.”
“Okay!” Hughie quickly cuts in, placing his thin frame in the direct heat of their glaring. You're surprised he doesn't melt like butter in the thick of it. “Let's remember we're all on the same side here. We'll give you ladies a chance to talk over things while we, uh, find the best place to put our surveillance team.”
“I won't keep her long. The less I know, probably the better. At least in this case.” Annie gives Butcher one more pointed glare before shuffling you off a few paces. “It's been awhile since he's worn a shirt that didn't look like he stole it from a Miami retirement home,” she grumbles.
Oh, you had definitely noticed. He was still wearing the blue shirt from your closet, and Hughie had made a similar comment when he had walked into the Flatiron. Butcher merely brushed it off with something about laundry day. Thwarting away the image of what lay beneath said shirt, all stretched out on your couch, you asked, “We're still on tomorrow then?”
“Yes. I know a guy from my Christ for Capes days, his name is Torsten. He doesn't work for Vought but a lot of his clientele have been supes. He's got a hole in the wall for a shop in Manhattan. He can definitely tailor something for what you need.” 
She glances at Hughie, who is preoccupied arguing with Butcher that no, they can't park the van in the goddamn venue lobby. Then says, “I get wanting to wear something you can fight in. But can you? Not saying you don't know how to take care of yourself. I'm just hoping you're going to have enough time to learn what you need.”
You wave at the team as MM seems to get them back on track over the schematics. “If there's anybody that can get me ready with this kind of time crunch, it's these guys. Right?”
Her eyes crinkle as she looks over each of them. “I mean…kinda? A little. I don't think their insurance would agree, but...”
“Says the one who can take a bullet to the chest,” you jibe back.
“Well I don't know what the hell they'll teach you. But we'll get you fitted for it.”
The idea of pitching Annie to supplement your training flits in your brain. What better way to learn than from the one friendly supe in your corner? But immediately you reject it. Annie is already under constant suspicion from the Seven, Homelander most of all. Not to mention what little spare time she has is just that - very little. And again, would she be able to hide your training from Hughie till the right time? Especially if she knew Butcher was involved, in more ways than one?
Not likely, the little voice huffs.
“Hughie told you about meeting at the apartment at 4, right?,” she asks, dragging you from your thoughts.
You nod.
“Okay. We'll meet there, then head to Torsten's. My window will be small though before I have to get back to the tower. So think about what you might like for the gala. He's a damn good tailor but not a miracle worker, and we're calling it pretty tight as is.”
“Sounds good. But one problem. I don't exactly have a budget for a custom fit. And Butcher wasn't completely wrong about needing financing for this.”
Annie shakes her head. “Don't worry about it. Torsten owes me a favor anyway. And it helps me get away from the tower for a time. Which…” She glances at the clock on her phone. “...I am nearly out of myself already.”
“You're not staying?”
“No,” she sighs. “I wanted to get the details to you in person, less risk of our plans being tracked or leaked that way. That and I need to talk to Hughie for a bit. I meant what I said about knowing less. Our resident asshole-”
“Which one?,” you ask in a cheeky tone.
“Our resident asshole,” she continues, “doesn't need any more reason to doubt my intentions. The less I know, the safer all of us will be if shit hits the fan, especially with Vought. Gotta keep my nose clean after the last time I was accused of treason, too.”
“I appreciate your help, Annie.” You glance over at Hughie and Butcher, still mapping out the eventual parking spot of the surveillance van. You notice MM approaching you. “I'll let you talk to your boy toy and see you tomorrow. I have a feeling I'm needed now.”
“That would be correct,” the big man says as he steps up beside you. “We need to start working on your ability to read the room. More like you should've started yesterday. So if you need anything, snacks, restroom break, whatever - now is the time. We're gonna be here late tonight.”
You give Annie another hug before she motions for Hughie to join her for a hushed discussion. You move back towards the others and the venue map with MM. “So what does this entail?”
“Body language is the big one. You use it all the time, you just don't know it. A lot of social cues are given and read more subconsciously. Your role in this depends on it.”
As Hughie and Annie call out a good night, explaining that they needed to headout, Butcher waves them off dismissively and walks towards his desk at the end of the office. “Already we got a snag in your little lesson here, MM. You think four of us is gonna be the same as reading a packed ballroom?”
“No, I think we are her training wheels and that's better than nothing.” There's a hint of exasperation in his tone. You have the distinct impression that Butcher has voiced his charming opinions to the crew on you being their spy for the event. If said impression was right, then at least you knew the crew was on your side.
Frenchie slides across his own desk with a small smile at the corners of his mouth. He disappears for a brief second before bobbing back up with a Bluetooth speaker, and begins setting it up with his phone.
MM watches him incredulously, palms up in confusion. “The fuck is he doin’? The fuck you doin’, Frenchie?”
“I am setting up for the lesson. We are teaching her body language cues, the gala is in a ballroom…” He thumbs over his phone screen before beaming at you. “So dancing serves for both, non?”
MM wipes a hand over his face as Kimiko sticks out her hands in invitation to Frenchie. “Oh my god, fucking really?”
“We're working, not fucking about!,” Butcher growls as a song comes on at random. The sound of a howl and three single notes flow out of the speaker, and Frenchie looks at it with doubt. But he shrugs and begins to turn and shuffle about with Kimiko.
You recognize now that his random playlist had chosen “Lil’ Red Riding Hood”. Not something you even expected with all the French rap you usually heard him play. You highly doubt this will be played at the gala either, but you just smile, enjoying the duo's antics as MM vents his frustration. 
“As you can see, Kimiko's body language is open. She smiles! She is relaxed!”
“Fuckin’ Christ, Frenchie…”
You nod with thick enthusiasm, ignoring Butcher grumbling. “Yes, yes. I see.”
The duo continue to wheel about in the limited space as the song progresses. “Now notice that both of us have some tension in our shoulders? That is from suppression. Why?”
“Why?,” you play along.
“To not laugh at these two boring fuckers!”
MM flips them both the finger, which they return in kind. After another moment, MM finally steps forward. “Hold on, hold on. Let's at least do this proper. Kimiko? May have your hand?”
They paused, confused. But you catch a glint in MM's eyes and you give her the thumbs up. To Frenchie’s surprise, MM takes her hand, doing his best to maintain proper dance form with the size difference. He makes a “eyes on me” motion at you.
“Watch and learn. If you didn't notice, poor Kimiko's body language was giving all the subtle signs of distress.” He begins to move into a different dance than the awkward shuffle from before. “And why? She needed saving. Because he, and his white ass, ain't got no rhythm, and this is clearly a motherfucking tango!”
“Oh fuck you! You think I can't fucking tango?”
MM sweeps Kimiko further away. “Nah, you don't get her back now. You hijack my lesson, I hijack your dance partner.”
You can't help but laugh as Frenchie stomps after them, apparently offended, and MM dancing just out of reach round the office with Kimiko standing on his toes. After the apprehension you'd had about this meeting, this is a pleasant change of pace. But you know the song is just about over, and there's still work to be done. Not to mention there was still the hardass who definitely would not be dancing.
You tear your eyes from the three cavorting about, ready to catch Butcher scowling across the room. Instead, you catch him taking advantage of the trio's distraction to stare right at you. A small knowing smirk appears as the last verse plays.
Lil’ Red Riding Hood
You sure are looking good
You're everything a big bad wolf could want.
You're hit with the memory of that night at the motel, him staring up at you with that same damn look. Those wolfish eyes. He's being awfully bold, right in front of the others. But was he really anything else?
You are not going to make this easy, are you?, you think.
And in the blink of an eye, it vanishes and he is glowering at the others. Teaching you not to be distracted it would seem. He approaches them as they settle. “Turn the music off, and it stays off,” he snaps. “All she's learned in the last three minutes is how to look like a right wanker in a crowd. Which is exactly what she doesn't fucking need when she's supposed to sneak in, and then sneak the fuck out.”
He snatches Frenchie's phone and tosses it to him. Giving the other two one last huff, he turns to you. “Let's start with identifying when someone has a concealed weapon. Something you'll actually fucking use…”
^^^
Hours later, far later than you had even expected, you sit in Butcher's car, head propped against the cool glass of the window. You had originally hoped that he would insist on a rolling session after the training you'd done with the Boys. Or rather a rolling session and seeing where it would lead. But when Butcher had volunteered to drive you home - before the others could - on the ride in the elevator down, he had informed you that he would be out looking for leads again.
You admit, you were a little disappointed. But turning your head to look at him in the passing lights, you see just a trace of fatigue in the wrinkles by his eyes. A ghost of his concussion. And to be honest, you were still a little haggard from a long day, and the long night before playing Florence Nightingale to his stubborn ass. It was better this way.
That didn't stop him from cursing your fatigue. He peeled his hand off the steering wheel and placed it on your knee, rubbing firm circles there with the pad of his thumb. Just like that night at the motel, whistling low and slow that damn song in the Flatiron, as if in case you weren't remembering it.
You arched one eyebrow at him as he parked at the curb outside your building. He arched one back at you with a devilish look. “What? Something on yer mind, love?”
“Just wondering if I'm going to have to patch you up again tonight.”
“Are you now?” His voice is thick with disbelief. He gives your thigh a warm squeeze. “That all?”
“Yep.” You make sure not to bat an eye. “Not much else to think about tonight.”
“Well in that case…” The seat creaks as he leans in and kisses you. Firm and slow. Like that hand that glides up your thigh. Like the way he presses it against the center seam of your jeans…
And he pulls away just as you inhale sharply. “...In that case, since you got nothing to think about, I'll let you dance on up to bed for the night.” He unbuckles your seat belt for you with a cocky twist of his lip.
Fucker.
“Yeah. Not much to think about.” You make no attempt at hiding the frustration in your tone. You hear Butcher chuckle as you step out of the car.
“Give Tinkerbell my regards tomorrow,” he nods. Then with a wink, “And keep that bed warm in case I need a nurse, yeah? Be seeing you real soon, love.”
He closes the door and peels out into the road. You grit your teeth at how painfully aware you are of exactly how your jeans sit now. But you shake your head with a smile as you watch his taillights shrink. Because something tells you that the reason he peeled out was to keep him from stepping out of that car with you.
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crimeronan · 3 months ago
Text
“Okay, so you were my guard,” Luz says.
"Yeah. Among other things."
“But I don’t, um – I don’t actually need that here. Guarding, I mean. I’m not royalty anymore. And the people here are okay, mostly, except when they suck, and then Vee goes after them anyway. I don't… I’m not sure I can…”
She trails off, less because she’s trying to formulate sentences and more because she can see Hunter’s heart shatter. Even as she does, she checks herself – what does she know about his feelings, really? His face barely crumples. He just closes his eyes for a second, and presses his mouth flat, and swallows. Then he takes a breath and faces her with the exact same calm as before.
She doesn’t know why she’s so certain that’s heartbreak. In anyone else, she’d read it as tiredness or annoyance.
“I’m coming on too strong,” he says, and his voice is just as steady as it always is, no outward signs of distress. “I'm sorry.”
“You don’t need to apologize,” Luz says, and means it. “I can tell you’ve had, just, the worst time. And I know this isn't what you hoped for. I just – I don't know what you want with the human world, besides me. Won’t you miss home?”
“You're forgetting I’m not allowed to go home either way right now,” Hunter says, “on account of the atrocities.”
Luz rolls her eyes. “Don’t be a smartass.”
His mouth twitches. He might be trying not to smile.
“I’m just saying,” she continues, “you found me. You did find me. Like you wanted to. And I’m safe here, like you want me to be. So you don't have to… I mean, you did your duty. You did what you were supposed to do. I hereby release you from any further contractual obligations. Okay?”
It’s meant as a reprieve, but Luz immediately knows that she’s chosen the wrong thing to say. Hunter isn’t quite as good at masking this new heartbreak. His fingers spasm, curling around the edge of the couch cushion, gripping like a lifeline. He lets out the kind of breath that someone might if they’d just been shot. His ears flatten, pointing toward the floor, an unconscious reflex that makes him look like a kicked puppy.
When he speaks, his voice cracks. “You don���t want me?”
Luz feels her own expression crumble. Confusion and guilt war for dominance inside her, a stitch between the ribs.
“Here,” Hunter adds, unconvincingly. “You don’t want me here?”
“I don’t want you guarding me here,” Luz says. “All of this stuff, you being so hung up on Vee and my mom… it’s freaking me out. I don't want them to get hurt.”
“I won’t hurt them,” Hunter says immediately. “I wouldn’t hurt them, not if they’re treating you well – I wouldn’t ever do anything you didn’t want me to do, Luz. I swear.”
“See, that. That's freaking me out.”
His brows draw together.
“You’re sitting here locked in a basement on my behalf,” Luz says, “because you volunteered to be locked in a basement.”
“Okay, well. In my defense. There are some very specific extenuating circumstances right now.”
She waves this aside. “You said you’ve been trying to track me down for months.”
“Of course I have. Anyone with sense would have. Belos was-"
“Yeah, I know. But my mama isn’t Belos.”
Hunter stays quiet and still for a solid minute. Luz actually counts the seconds. His only movement is to press a hand to his eyes, like he’s pushing back a headache, or maybe trying not to cry.
“I’m not trying to be mean,” Luz adds. “I promise you, I'm really, really trying not to hurt your feelings. But you get it, right? It's just… a lot to process.”
“I get it,” he says, with what might be an attempt at a smile. He folds his hands in his lap, surveying her politely and deferentially, like a corporate executive might respond to a CEO. “I'm sorry I've made things harder for you. I didn’t mean to do that.”
“I know,” she says. “It’s okay. I’m really sorry I don't remember.”
“Could be that it's for the best,” Hunter says lightly. “I won't cause your family any trouble, Luz. Promise. It’ll probably be a while until they actually believe that, but in the meantime – you don't need to come down here anymore. I won't pick a fight.”
She has a sudden, overwhelming impulse to fling herself into his arms. Just one more nonsensical reaction, extra proof that something's missing inside her.
“Do you want me to stay away?” she asks.
Once again, Hunter lapses into silence. It's hard to tell whether he’s thinking or just refusing to answer, at least until he counters, “Do you want to remember me?”
“Yes,” Luz says immediately. She doesn't even have to think about it. Without meaning to, she touches her chest, the place that aches every time she reaches out for someone who isn't there. It's been aching since way, way before Hunter stepped onto the Nocedas' porch.
“I want to know,” she explains, “why I miss you so much.”
This, finally, is what makes Hunter break. He buries his face in his hands and lets out a ragged little sob, his shoulders shaking, his breath choked.
Something in Luz wants to wrap her arms around him and snuggle up on the couch and let him cry into her neck. Something in Luz wants to curl up with him under all the blankets in the house and ask him to tell her stories. Something in Luz is suffering physical pain with every elapsed moment in which she doesn’t do that. The desire to hold him edges past want, into need. It hurts.
The rest of her is still loosely gripping a steak knife. And so afraid of sending mixed messages.
“I’ll come back tomorrow, okay?” she says, backing toward the stairs before her instincts can turn traitor. “After I’ve slept. After we’ve both slept. I want – I need you to get some rest tonight. You'll feel better once you do. Okay?”
Hunter grunts in vague acknowledgement. He doesn’t seem interested in discussing his continuing sobs, and Luz is fighting back tears herself, and she doesn't have the strength not to go to him if she cries. So she just climbs the stairs, shutting the door carefully behind her, and she flips the lock closed.
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kanencrow · 1 year ago
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Can you do gwen stacy/spider-gwen x reader where reader is patching up gwen after another fight? (similar to gwen and peter in tasm)
Playing Doctor - Across The Spiderverse | One Shot
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A/N: Of course, thank you for the request! I'll be honest, it's been a very long time since I last saw The Amazing Spiderman, but nonetheless, I hope you enjoy.
SUMMARY: You patch up Gwen after a particularly harrowing fight with what she considered her villain of the month.
WARNINGS: All characters are 18+. Descriptions of Physical Violence, Descriptions of Tending to a Wound, Blood, Swearing, Needles, Very Slight Angst, Fluff/Comfort.
WORD COUNT: 2400+
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Attempting to sew up a decently large gash that sat just above the left side of Gwen’s chest proved to be a tedious and slow task, even with the top of her suit down, which was supposed to aid your ability in assessing where she had been hurt. You were in no way shape or form a professional in stitching up a wound, but when your girlfriend came in through your window, looking like she had just been hit by a truck, you really didn’t have much time to study. Not that you necessarily planned on learning the arts of medicine, but now that you knew the reality of who the woman in front of you was – when she wasn’t her true identity, you were certain it would have been a good idea to figure out a thing or two about treating cuts and bruises. 
When you saw her stumble into your room after opening up your window, you didn’t expect anything other than a simple ‘hi,’ before she would do her usual habitual routine of walking up behind you and giving you a warm hug, followed by a firm kiss to the top of your head. Every night, you’d find yourself cooped up in your apartment and losing your mind over a particular assignment that your professor pushed onto you and every other victim of their class. It would take Spider-Woman’s strength to tear you away from your focus on your computer, though when she didn’t do her usual embrace and peck, you turned around, only to see her tumble into the room, as though all of the strength in her muscles had vanished. 
The sight of her terrified you. You didn’t know what to do, other than immediately stop what you were doing and dart over to your girlfriends’ aid. It seemed like every bit of movement that she made worsened the feeling of affliction that surrounded her body. Of course, you noticed that quickly, and so you led her over to your bed and ordered her to settle down and take off her suit, while you busied yourself with going into your bathroom and grabbing the medical box you had under your sink. Your own movements were frantic and clumsy, unlike the blonde, whose own movements were slow and tentative. There were a few moments where you almost dropped the supplies you had collected, but you managed to keep track of everything, before you made it back to the room.
And by the time you did make it back, Gwen had followed your request, though she made sure to make herself comfortable in the process, when you spotted her laying across her proclaimed side of the bed, with her head laying against one of the many pillows you had. Even though she looked like she had been through the thick of it, she still sent you a small smile, when she opened her eyes and looked at you. You attempted to give her the same expression back, but it only seemed to come off as a grimace, when the woman scrunched up her face slightly and slowly pushed herself up into a sitting position. 
“That bad?” she asked you, before she let out a quiet grunt and grabbed at the strap of her compression bra, or what remained of it. Somehow, it was still connected by a thread, even after receiving whatever slash that her skin shared the same fate with, and it seemed to have finally lost all of the strength it had when you heard a quiet snap, followed by a hiss of pain that came from her, when the elastic smacked against her wound. “Ow, shit!” You set the box of supplies you collected onto the nightstand that sat beside the side of the bed you and her were on, before you turned around and looked at the woman who just had an unintentional mishap with a piece of fabric. 
The palm of her hand rested over the gash on the upper left side of her chest, and you immediately grimaced when the thought of it getting infected filled your mind. “Hey, don’t do that,” you told her, before you stepped forward and gently grabbed a hold of her wrist. “Your hands are probably dirty. You don’t want a wound this size to get an infection.” You let go of her limb as you leaned down to get a closer look at the laceration, which caused your girlfriend to smirk slightly to herself and lean back on her hands, which – actually – allowed you to see whether or not anything had made its way inside of the cut. 
“Since when did you become a doctor?” Gwen questioned you quietly, as she admired the way your face faintly scrunched up to show your concentration. Her voice was smug, and you internally wondered how she was so willing to be cheeky while she still had a jagged, untreated wound on her body. You had the sudden urge to roll your eyes at her lack of worry, but you managed to keep a blank expression, when you lifted your focus up to the woman who sat on your bed. 
“Since never,” you stated simply, before you stood up to your full height and stepped over to your nightstand once more. “I’m just using the information that I’ve come to learn from simply being alive,” you admitted, only to let out a sigh, as you picked up a white box with a red cross decal that sat on top of it. “You know… getting hurt a lot as a kid and then treating your own injuries, just so you wouldn’t get in trouble by your parents… it kind of also gives you this automatic idea of how to treat an injury.” You shrugged your shoulders, and eventually turned around to sit on the bed with your girlfriend. 
Gwen stared at you, all the while, as you unclipped the medical box, which carried all of the things you needed in order to treat her gash. Her smile slowly fell when she noticed the glassiness in your eyes, and the way you chewed on your lower lip, as though you were trying to prevent yourself from growing emotional. It caused her to sit up and scoot closer to you, before she bent her leg to let it rest on part of the bed, so that she could turn her body to fully face your own. “Hey… I’m still alive,” she assured you, but you only tightened your jaw in response to that, before you parted your mouth and breathed out a sigh that silently conveyed your discontent. 
“It doesn’t matter, Gwen,” you voiced, “you still got hurt.” You blindly gestured your free hand towards her, before you let it drop to hold onto the mattress. “I mean – I’m glad that you’re alive, but seeing you…” You trailed off and breathed in deeply, just to try and steel your nerves. “Watching you come through that window, barely able to hold yourself up… I guess it just reminded me that you’re still human. That anything can happen to you, even though you’re Spider-Gwen, or Ghost-Spider, or whatever you call yourself these days.” You let out a quiet chuckle when your girlfriend huffed in amusement at what you had just said. The moment of lighthearted nature was quick to die out, however, and the moment your smile fell, you spoke up. “I guess just – what if you didn’t come back tonight–?” 
“Babe, stop.” You felt Gwen’s hand come down to rest on your thigh. She understood your worries, loud and clear, but she knew that you were starting to lose yourself within that whirlwind. You immediately felt her comforting touch, and she felt the weight of concern fall away from her shoulders, when you breathed out an exhale to try and steady your spiral of thoughts. “I’m here. I’m alive. I’m okay,” she told you, but you didn’t show any evidence that you believed her. “Hey, look at me.” Her palm fell away from your leg to take a gentle hold of your face, and you didn’t fight her when you felt the warmth of her skin against yours. 
The moment your eyes met her own, your brow furrowed deeply. “You’re okay?” you repeated, before you let out a humorless laugh and looked down at the large gash that sat on her chest. Bruises and the like littered other parts of her body too, you had noticed, and the sight of it only made you more regrettable. “Look at you!” you quietly exclaimed, as your hands attempted to gesture up and down her form. “You look like you got run over by a freight train.” 
“Okay, rude.” Gwen frowned at you, as she dropped her hand away from your face and sent you a look of offense. “I think I look fine,” she admitted, before she tilted her head to the side and gazed up at nothing in particular. It was as if she were dwelling on the fight she had before coming here. “Honestly, you should see the other guy.” When she brought her focus back to you, you deadpanned at her, clearly unimpressed by her lack of concern for her own state. “Not only is he in jail, but he’s gotta go to the hospital before jail. So…” She shrugged her shoulders again, and you shook your head. 
“Gwen…” 
“What?” she asked, “I’m fine. I just need my personal doctor to fix me up.” 
“You’re an idiot,” you uttered, though your tone conveyed your endearment.
“Yeah, but I’m the same idiot that you decided to date, so what does that say about you?” Gwen asked smugly, which earned an amused eye roll from you, before you settled the medical box to the side and leaned in to press a gentle peck to her cheek.
“I guess that means that I have a thing for idiots.” You played along, which successfully earned a quiet giggle from your girlfriend, as her eyes followed you closely. When you leaned away slightly to scrounge through the box of medical supplies you had set next to you, you couldn’t help but glance up at her for a moment, before you brought your focus back down to what you were mainly doing. “So… who was the guy you fought tonight, then?” you suddenly questioned, “Was he the same dude you fought earlier this month?” 
“Yeah, actually,” Gwen mumbled, her eyes still watching you as you set up the needle and thread. “Super big guy. Dressed himself up in what looks like a cosplay of a rhino, which makes sense… considering his name is literally just Rhino.” You furrowed your eyebrows at her explanation, before you stopped what you were doing to look up at her once more. 
“Wait, so that’s literally just his name? Or is that his stage name?” 
“Stage name?” she repeated, suddenly growing confused. 
You paused and blinked at her. “You know, stage name? Like how your real name is Gwen Stacy, but when you’re wearing your suit, you’re Spider-Woman – or whatever you call yourself.” You couldn’t keep up with the names she created for herself these days. Was it Ghost-Spider, Spider-Gwen, or Spider-Woman? You didn’t even know, and she told you everything, so honestly, you should have probably known. But you didn’t. 
“Oh! Right, right.” Gwen nodded her head, suddenly catching on, while you set the thread and needle to the side to grab a bottle of hydrogen peroxide instead, as well as a little fuzzy cotton ball. Her eyes followed your hands, all the while, and she grew a little nervous when you unscrewed the cap of the container and dumped some of the liquid onto the miniature cloud of white. “He, uh… his real name is Aleksi Sytsevich.” You hummed at her simple explanation. “Yeah, he, uh… he’s kind of an idiot.” She paused to glance up at the ceiling of your room for a moment. “Kinda surprised it took me so long to catch him…” 
“Well, hey, at least you got him,” you muttered, before you dabbed the wet cotton ball against the wound that the rhino guy created on your girlfriend. “And hopefully you made him bleed just as much as he made you,” you added on, which earned a small chuckle from the blonde in response. 
“Oh, trust me,” Gwen said, “I did.” 
The conversation fell into silence the moment you set your entire focus on trying to stitch up Gwen’s wound. For someone who was used to getting thrown up against walls and crushed by things that were ten times the size and weight of her, she whined a lot. Everytime you would push the needle through to cinch the skin back together, you would hear some sort of quiet curse or a little dramatic whimper come from her. She definitely made a note to state her discontent for what you were doing, but you always made sure to remind her that it wasn’t your fault Rhino decided to be an asshole and give her a particularly gnarly wound. 
You hadn’t sutured a gash up before, though, so when you eventually finished and sat back to admire your work, your lips downturned deeply to show your impression. For a complete rookie, you did a pretty okay job. Although, you still planned to take a trip up to the hospital with her in the morning, just for the sake of making sure that nothing bad would happen in the process of her recovery. And you were more than willing to drag her there, because you knew just how much she hated those medical centers.
“Do I still look pretty?” 
Your eyes flickered up to look at Gwen, who had her eyebrows raised in question. A warming sensation of love filled your chest when you noticed the hopeful expression on her tired face, and you couldn’t help but lean forward and press your lips to her own. It was a silent reply that, yes, you still thought she was beautiful. She accepted the action immediately, and you could hear her hum against your mouth quietly, before you pulled back slightly and sent her a small smile, your eyes keeping contact with her own. 
“You’ll always be pretty. Don’t you worry.” You sent her a playful wink, before you settled back and hopped off the bed. “Now,” you uttered. “Why don’t we get you into some more comfortable clothes?” You blindly called from over your shoulder, and you felt yourself grin when she happily replied to your query in turn.
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crumbledcastle28 · 1 year ago
Text
Sebastian Sallow: Metallic Blood, Lacewing Flies, and Frostbitten Air
Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x fem!ravenclaw!reader (she/her; afab) (house is only mentioned twice)
Summary: Sebastian has pushed it too far and can think of no other remedy than you.
Excerpt: "Do you honestly think I would not be able to answer Ravenclaw's precious riddle?" he questioned. You scoffed, reaching to your left to turn on your yellow-toned lamp resting on your bedside table, and Sebastian's body stiffened. You faced him, eyes widening, and hands coming over your once again wide open mouth. A gash - so deep, red, and bloody that the skin was separated in two- stretching from the top of his left eyebrow to the bone of his jawline was the first thing you noticed. The second was the smile he still adorned. "I lied," he laughed humorlessly, still smiling as blood trickled into his mouth. "I got Amit to tell me the answer months ago."
Warnings: small mention of death, swearing, blood, detailed descriptions of stitching, crying, kissing, so much flirting, AGED UP CHARACTERS.
Word Count: 2.7k
A/N; Here we are again. Thank you to @peterwandaparker @ithinkweallsing @intheshadowofthegame @pasukiyo and @slythering-snake-boys for the love on my previous fic. I hope you all enjoy :)
My Writing
If you'd like to leave a like, comment, ask, or reblog, it would be much appreciated <3
(pic from pinterest)
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There was no solace like sleep.
Drifting away in a sea of covers and quilts, the pillow wrapped in your arms your only anchor to the conscious world. Hours go by in fractions of seconds; zeal coats your body and mind at the feeling of its promise. Your frigid hands and tired eyes cured by the touch of a blanket and the warping of a mattress against the curve of your spine. A stage to dream, not to think. Not to feel. Not to worry. Only to coast.
You were ripped from its precipice by a hand as cold as death.
You pulled away from it, your mind too sunken into your slumber to even conceptualize that it was real, until it pulled at you again. As light as a feather, and equally as apprehensive.
You hummed softly, blinking yourself awake, eyes watered with so much fatigue that everything was a blur. You shut your eyes harshly and opened them once more, vision now clear enough to make out the silhouette in front of you.
Or rather, the man in front of you.
Fortunately, you could recognize him by the depth of his breaths alone.
"Sebastian!" you shouted, sitting up completely in the darkness, still wrapped in the sheets of your bed.
"Shhh," he replied, pressing the palm of his right hand against your mouth, and the palm of his left against your cheek. His touch was firm, not rough.
You mumbled something against his skin as he scanned the vacant room, ensuring no being had managed to hear him. You attempted to speak again, and he finally let go of his hold.
"What are you doing here?" you said, managing to somehow whisper and yell at the same time.
"I -" he began, his breath coming through his mouth becoming slower and slower, " - I needed you."
You were grateful for the darkness overwhelming the room. Your mouth opened like a hog. You quickly shut it.
"How in Merlin's name did you even get in here?"
You could see the smirk on his face, even through the night.
"Do you honestly think I would not be able to answer Ravenclaw's precious riddle?" he questioned.
You scoffed, reaching to your left to turn on your yellow-toned lamp resting on your bedside table, and Sebastian's body stiffened.
You faced him, eyes widening, and hands coming over your once again wide open mouth.
A gash - so deep, red, and bloody that the skin was separated in two- stretching from the top of his left eyebrow to the bone of his jawline was the first thing you noticed. The second was the smile he still adorned.
"I lied," he laughed humorlessly, still smiling as blood trickled into his mouth. "I got Amit to tell me the answer months ago."
Your hands still cupped your mouth at the sight of his gaping wound, so fresh blood was still pouring down his neck, as you took a shaky breath in. Your hands dropped from your mouth as his smile slowly dissipated into a wince.
"Seb," you whispered.
"I told you," he replied, bloodshot eyes piercing into yours. "I needed you - need you."
You quickly snapped out of your shock and forced yourself to focus, all remnants of drowsiness replaced with its viger, and stood up. You made your way around your bed and opened the second drawer of your bedside table, pulling out a dusty first-aid. Sebastian allowed his full weight to be seated onto your bed, the frame of it squeaking.
"You're lucky every other Ravenclaw went home for the holidays," you said, dusting off the kit and opening it. You took out what you needed - multiple towels, a needle, a vile of previously boiled water, and string.
Sebastian hummed in agreement. "And I'm lucky you didn't."
You smiled, bringing your supplies over to your bed. You propped him up against the bed frame, and you sat before him, legs crossed. "I suppose you are."
You took his chin into your hands and moved his face around in the light, taking a good look at his injury. The skin was completely sliced, and a bruise was already beginning to form around his eye. His eyes fluttered, obviously trying to mask the pain.
"Magic won't work on this," you said, opening the vial of water and dousing a towel with it. "I'm sorry."
"It's okay," he responded, and you pressed the towel against the wound. He hissed, balling your sheets up into his fist. The towel quickly became stained with red.
"What happened?" you asked, attempting to distract him in any way you could.
"What do you think?" he responded quickly. "He didn't want me there."
"He" meaning his Uncle Solomon. You hummed, your way of coaxing him to continue.
"I arrived in Feldcroft this morning and went to our house immediately, and Anne was ecstatic," he said, and you removed the towel, satisfied with the wound's cleanliness. You began to thread your needle. "I haven't seen her that happy in months."
You smiled, the image of her smiling filling you with a crackling joy.
Sebastian smiled at your smile.
"She brought me inside, hugging me so hard I could hardly breathe," he continued, and you lined up your needle. He saw it from the corner of his eye, and his body paralyzed with fear. His breath halted, and so did yours.
"I'll be as quick as I can," you whispered, looking him in the eye.
"I know," he replied, but his eyes shut and his face winced, preparing himself for the pain. For some reason, it was that image that finally sunk the situation into your brain. How hurt Sebastian was, both physically and emotionally, and how desperate he was to just get this over with. You felt helpless, tears beginning to culminate into your eyes. You didn't want to be the cause of that look on his face, but you had to be, and you hated yourself for it.
You were all he had.
And it was with that realization that you couldn't help yourself. You kissed his cheek, just to the right of his wound, breathing in his usual musk of fresh pears, butterscotch, and clean linen. This scent was now clouded, however, with the pungent aromas of metallic blood, lacewing flies, and frost-bitten air. His skin was soft against your lips, despite it all, but you did not allow yourself the time to memorize it. Instead, you pulled away, hoping he could understand everything you meant with the kiss. I'm sorry. I don't want to hurt you. I've got you now. You're safe.
You lined up your needle once again, not allowing yourself to see whatever reaction he had to the gesture, and stuck it through the skin, beginning to stitch.
The whimper he released cracked your heart in two.
"Keep talking," you said to him, focusing as best you could. "Just keep talking."
He caught his breath, swallowed harshly, and continued, his voice strained and husked. "She brought me into the kitchen, showing me the meal she prepared. I told her how - how proud of her I was. She thanked me for coming and then brought me to the ta - table, mumbling something about how ha - happy she was to celebrate the holidays as a family."
You had made it to just below his cheek bone, your body sweating and his shaking. Tears still ran from your eyes.
He swallowed again, exhaling deeply. "She set it all up, made sure I was comfortable, and we waited for Solomon. She asked me about - about school. How I was doing. Ho - how you were doing."
You would be lying if you said your focus did not waver.
"I told her everything was great," he continued, hissing once again as you tightened an especially separated piece of skin.
"Over halfway done," you mumbled, and he nodded.
"Finally he showed up, not hi - hiding his shock at my presence at all," Sebastian said. "And we started eating. Everything was perfect. The snow was falling through the window, Anne was happy, I was happy, it was like something out of a novel."
You waited for the catch.
"Until I fucked it up. Like always."
You almost grabbed his hand. Almost.
"I mentioned some of the research I've been doing to - to help Anne," he said, "and Solomon lost it. Yelled that I had to go and ruin the holidays with my obsession with Anne's condition. He ye - yelled so loud that he..."
Sebastian paused, and you paused with him.
"...he made Anne flinch," he said through gritted teeth, "and so I lost it too. I don't even remember what I said."
You looked at him for a moment, this broken boy in your bed, and scoured your brain for any string of words that could make him feel better. Everything you came up with felt immeasurable to his anguish.
So, you finished the final section of stitching quicker than you thought you ever could, not ignoring how Sebastian did not even flinch, and cut the thread. You then placed a fresh, cold-water soaked towel into his wound, attempting to calm it down.
Your eyes never left his, which were now staring off into the distance, haunted.
"Seb," you whispered, trying your best to cradle him with your voice, "then what?"
He sighed. "It's blurry. I know I stormed out, I don't remember what direction I took. Next thing I knew, Ranrok's loyalists were surrounding me, and I..."
He breathed deeply.
"...I killed them all."
You nodded, gently wiping at his wound before removing the towel completely. He turned to look at you, his gaze a mix of fire and pain.
"And I got this during the fight. A moment I wasn't looking," he said.
You nodded again and placed the dirty towels and needle onto a third clean one, and placed that onto the wooden floor of the common room. You looked at your hands in the glowing light - coated in blood, some even dripping down your wrists, a few droplets finding their way onto your sleep shirt.
You looked back up at him, his eyes on your hands as well.
"How's it feel?" you asked him, and his eyes snapped back up into yours.
"Better," he mumbled, wiping at his nose. The wound was yellow, ugly, and swollen, but it was closed. Soon enough, Wiggenweld would work on it, and it would be healed completely. You didn't need to tell him that. "Thank you, Y/N. Really."
You nodded, resting your sticky hands in your lap. "Thank you for being honest with me."
He nodded back, and the two of you sat like that for some time. Neither knowing what to say, but neither wanting the other to leave.
You broke the silence, sliding off the bed and standing up. "Get some rest, Sebastian. You need it."
He looked up at you, eyes caramelized from the yellow lamps and tears, and stood up in front of you. The look upon on his face was a mix of seemingly every emotion, and he licked his lips. You looked up at him and smiled faintly before leaning down to move the blood-soaked towels out of the way.
He stopped you, sliding his palms over your cheekbones, and kissed your lips.
You wished you could say you hesitated, pulled away in shock, or stopped him, asking if this was something he truly wanted or if it was a way to separate from his own brain, but no.
You all but fucking melted.
His lips were like velvet, caressing against your own like a moth to a flame, unable to get enough, not caring if it burned. And yet, he was delicate with the rest of his body - his hands on your face slowly making their way down to your waist. He was a magnet for you, pulling you in like a song. It did not take you long to place your own hands onto his robes and pull the material between your fingers, pulling him closer, closer, closer. He tasted of roast and cinnamon, likely from the dinner he had mentioned.
You whined as he tipped your head back suddenly, allowing him more access to cartograph your mouth. Merlin, he kissed and kissed and kissed you - breathing into your mouth, nibbling on your bottom lip, never letting go.
You didn't want him to.
His hands were in your hair now, massaging your scalp with his nails, sending chills down your spine. Your hands moved to his tie, making it nearly impossible for him to pull away.
He found a way.
You chased after his lips with your own, but he held you back, breathing a laugh against your mouth. You opened your eyes.
His freckles were a piece of fucking art up close.
"Y/N," he whispered against your mouth, centimeters away. "Y/N."
"What?"
"We've got to work on your aim."
You smiled, knowing he was referring to your quick taste of his skin from earlier. "Oh, 'we' do?"
He smiled wide enough to show his dimples, stretching the stitches, eyes darting from your left eye, to your right, to your mouth. "Yes."
"So that's why you kissed me?" you questioned, mouths still nearly touching. "So we could 'work on my aim?'"
His face suddenly turned sincere. "No," he said. "No it wasn't."
You smiled, eyes glowing in victory.
He pulled you back to his mouth, but as you closed your eyes, you caught a glimpse of your hands on his chest, and pulled away with a gasp.
"What?" he said, suddenly panic-stricken, removing his hands from your body instantly. "I'm sorry, what did I -"
"Your robes," you said, pointing at his chest, and he looked down.
His white shirt, tie, and collar of his robe were stained pink, fingerprints visible even in the grim lighting you were standing in. His mouth opened, but before long, he met your gaze with a smile.
"Sebastian I - you're smiling?"
He laughed, genuinely laughed. "Yes, I'm smiling," he said, still laughing.
"But I've just stained your things!" you said, unable to not laugh with him. "I am so sorry, Seb. I'll wash them, I swear -"
"Trust me, Y/N, this is not the first time I have gotten blood on my clothing," he said as he walked closer to you once more and pecked your lips. "But it is by far my favorite time."
You rolled your eyes and kissed him again, and again, and again, the both of you smiling into the kisses so big you could barely even bring your lips together. You hummed contentedly, as did he.
"Sebastian," you whispered against his mouth, and he kissed you again, practically groaning.
"Merlin do that again," he asked, and you smirked.
"Sebastian," you said, and he kissed you harder than he had all night.
"Yes?" he responded.
"You need to sleep. You need to heal."
"I need you," he said, and you kissed him one final time.
"Go to your common room, take a shower, get some sleep," you said to him, eyes dancing across his gash, despite the mind-numbing image of Sebastian Sallow with swollen lips and flushed cheeks you had before you.
You didn't want him to go, but he had to.
He nodded, knowing you were right, but still not removing his hands from you.
"And after you do all that," you continued, "you come and find me. To make sure you are healing properly, of course."
Merlin, if only you could have captured the look on his face that he met you with and kept it in your pocket for the rest of your days. He nodded and pressed one final kiss to your own cheek. You smiled.
"Of course," he said sarcastically against your skin. "Thank you, Y/N. For everything."
You nodded, and with one final smile, he walked past you to exit the common room. You rubbed your lips together, wondering if you were somehow in a dream the entire time.
"Oh, and by the way," he said, and you turned around to face him. He had made it to the door to the bedroom, one hand on the handle as he spoke.
"I kissed you because I have been in love with you since the day you bested me in our duel."
He left you with only the echo of the door closing behind him, and the realization that no, this was not a dream. Not at all.
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