#made myself anxious writing this lol
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mmavverickk · 7 months ago
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you know that ADHD feeling where you’ve got something coming up, some big plan or some small thing you’re looking forward to, some event happening in the future, and your whole being seems to put itself in standby mode? it’s just waiting. that’s all life is, until finally your thing happens and then it’s over. it’s over and now you don’t know what to do with yourself.
can you imagine Percy’s experience with that feeling? for four years of his life, he’s been told his existence was outlawed because of a prophecy that could destroy Olympus. so he knows. he knows that either he’ll die before this happens, or he’ll be the one in the prophecy. he’ll be the reason the gods have lived in fear since this prophecy’s creation.
he’s got that hanging over him for years. that death or that destiny.
and then he reads the prophecy. he learns the wording, learns the future, and realizes, “this was only ever going to end with my death.” he’s the half-blood of the eldest gods. the prophecy said hero’s soul cursed blade shall reap. he has ample reason to believe that he’ll die on his sixteenth birthday. that he’ll never get a future.
it looms. all he can do is train and wait. standby mode activate.
he goes to war. he leads his camp against an army, fights to save his city, the world, the campers. kills a titan, makes a hurricane, destroys a bridge. fights, and fights, and fights until the moment comes. until he’s realizing he’s been wrong. he’s not the hero. he doesn’t need to die.
and when it’s all said and done, Percy doesn’t know what to do with himself anymore. he’d been prepared to die to save the world. that was his whole plan. how is he supposed to keep going? what is he supposed to do with this future that he’d been certain he wouldn’t have? he has so many options and possibilities and choices open to him now. how overwhelming must that be?
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theflyingfeeling · 1 year ago
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I don’t know if I’m just imagining things but I feel like Olli and Aleksi are actually so close 🥺 for example I feel like they post so many pics together and I know they post with others too and it’s not a big deal but e.g. Olli has posted 5 pics with someone else this year and 3 of them are with Aleksi.. so it must mean something right?? 🥺 and I feel like they spend a lot of time together yk even ”outside the band” when they’re having a day off and they still do music (the remix) etc. together 😭
Yeah I mean I for one am so deep in the Olli/Allu delulu land that it's VERY easy for me to agree and confirm all of this 😭 they're boyfriends secret lovers special friends and it shows 🥺
Here are all the pictures of the two of them I could find on Olli's IG, for reference 💞
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+ the group picture Olli posted when Aleksi first joined the band, with the caption 'so now there's six of us' 🥺
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#i left out the one where he's pushing aleksi's and niko's heads in the water 😳#and one from balboa bts with tommi in the background#ngl the anon ask i got yesterday has given me MASSIVE headworms of 2 young guys having thought they had their life all figured out already#and then one day they realise they've fallen for their friend and bandmate 😭#friends to lovers but with troubles in between my most beloved trope in the world 💞💖💗💓💕💖💞#with truckloads of (mutual) pining and just general confusion about what they should do about their stupid (mutual) feelings#(i'd love to read/write something of this sort but i'm too anxious about everyone being all#'boohoo they'd never cheat also you're disrespecting their gfs'#like............first of all it's fiction second of all IT'S FUCKING FICTION third of all i ain't gonna tell 'em lol#obviously i wouldn’t include their actual gfs and OBVIOUSLY i wouldn’t show the fic to anyone who's in it??#i just don't understand how someone could be offended about something they don't know about lol#and OBBVVVIOUSSSLLYYYY i wouldn’t write either of the guys as somehow happy or confident about cheating like come on#there'd be SO MUCH guilt and shame and angst and they’d still love their gfs so much#but then there's also this guy who's their friend and whose stinky socks made them barf once on the tourbus#and who means the world to them. they didn’t mean for it to happen. it just did 😭#anyway sorry for rambling i swear i don't mean to make everything about my silly fic ideas#i just can't help myself and i need a way to let it all out somehow without bothering anyone in particular 😭😭😭)#ollixallu#anon asks#answered asks
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mekatrio · 1 year ago
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is there a lot of setomary content in this world yes. but none of it portraying the dynamic i need it to......
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mattybsgroupie · 4 months ago
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homework | matt sturniolo
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contents: making out; oral (f receiving); handjob (m receiving); sub!matt
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notes: my plan was to post this during the weekend but im anxious to go back to college and i couldn’t help myself and ended up writing everything yesterday lol very nerdy subby matty receiving his first handjob ♡ as usual not proofread but hope you enjoy it lots! tysm for over 1,1K followers ♡ much much love always!
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i heard three rhythmic knocks on my bedroom door and quickly got up, unlocking it and suddenly bumping into matthew, the smartest guy in my class. matt was clever, but extremely quiet - which only made him more charming. i recalled his ears turning a bright red when i asked him for help with my homework, shyness taking over him as he briefly nodded his head.
“hey!” he greeted me, offering a handshake. i touched his hand, slightly caressing his palm with my index, watching as he tried to look away. “we talked yesterday, about… some lessons? you need help with homework?”
“yes!” i happily agreed, spreading the door open. “come in matt, make yourself comfortable”
matt nodded, holding tightly to the books hidden under his arm. “is it really okay for me to be here?” he chuckled. “i mean… it’s the girls dorm”
“don’t worry about it, boys come here all the time” i winked at matt’s figure, balancing his weight from one foot to another, clearly anxious. “unless you… wanna go to the library or something?”
“no!” he eagerly answered. “i-i can teach you here. it’s okay”.
- ♡ -
i wasn’t listening to a single world he said.
matt’s blue eyes underneath the round glasses seemed agitated, following the numbers i had previously written on my notebook. i could see matt’s lips trying to hold a smile at each wrong result, his digits tapping on the yellow pencil between his fingers.
“… so if you divide it by 100, it’s easier to find the percentage” he took me out of my trance, turning his head to stare at me with a confused expression on his face. “am i doing good? are you getting it?”
“you’re doing so good, matt” i let it slip out of my mouth without even thinking, my head resting on my hand while i admired matt’s cheeks flushing red as he gulped. “look at me” i said, raising my finger to his jaw as he tried to look away.
i could feel his breath getting heavier, lips slightly parted as he stood still, not moving an inch. i got closer to him, brushing my lips over his before sealing them together in a small kiss. matt’s hand quickly went to the back of my neck, deepening the pressure of his lips against mine. when i opened my mouth so he could slide his tongue in, matt pulled away - but not far enough, a string of saliva still connecting us to each other.
“i-i’m sorry” he looked at me, panting heavily. “i shouldn’t have done that, i’m really sorry”.
“don’t be” i cupped his cheeks in my palms, giving him a soft peck. “i want it matt, i really do”
“but” he started, eyes traveling through the room, as if he was checking if someone caught us. “i thought y-you wanted to study”
“you already taught me so much” i jokingly pouted, pretending i was tired. the more matt talked, the wetter my panties would get. “why don’t i teach you a few things?” i said, letting one of my hands rest on his thigh.
“like what?” matt asked me hesitantly, looking at how my hand caressed his covered skin. i reached closer to his crotch, accidentally brushing my digits on his half-hard cock, tenting starting to form on his pants.
i smashed our lips together once more, this time hungrier, the wet sounds of our tongues interlocking taking over my dorm. my fingers tangled on matt’s brown curls, carefully pulling his hair so i could get easier access to his neck. i unbuttoned the closed collar of his shirt, traveling down the fabric and repeating the process over and over again.
matt took his glasses off, tossing it over my study table, his hands finally coming to my waist. he didn’t have the courage to tighten his grip and i knew this was the boldest move he’d be able to make, so i grabbed matt’s wrist and brought his palm to my chest, letting him grope my covered tits.
i gasped from the sudden touch, noticing how this made made hesitant to keep kissing me. “a-are you okay?” he asked with puppy, blue eyes.
“yes, fuck- you’re being so good to me”, i sighed heavily and matt nodded eagerly, bringing his mouth to my neck, sucking onto my skin. “what got you so worked up hm?” i asked as i watched his pants getting tighter, fully hard cock.
“fuck! i’m sorry- i didn’t even notice” matt looked down, eyes widening. “you’re just so pretty” he confessed.
“you’re so cute, matt. do you want me to help you out?” i asked, palming him over his jeans.
“please” he let out in a choked moan, “please touch me”
the grin on my face grew wide as matt sunk his teeth on his bottom lip, trying to cover his soft whimpers as i kept on stroking his clothed cock.
i unzipped his jeans, sneaking my fingers into his underwear so i could pull out matt’s dick, which quickly sprung against my palm, almost hitting his own belly. matt adjusted himself on the chair, spreading his legs apart as his mouth hang open. i finally got a proper grip of his shaft, wrapping my fingers around his surprisingly large cock.
matt let out a loud groan when i finally started twisting my hand, lifting his left arm to cover his own face. “why are you so shy, baby?” i whispered in his ear.
“n-never… never done that” matt said, squirming on his sit as i pumped him.
“never had a girl touching you like that?” i cooed, watching matt nodding vigorously. “it’s okay, i promise it’s gonna feel good”
“it- mhm- feels good!” he bucked his hips forward when i moved my thumb upwards, circling his leaking tip. “i’m not g-gonna last long” matt said as i tightened the grasp on his length. he kept on jointing his hips, trying to fuck into my fist in a pathetic, sloppy pace.
“you wanna cum for me, matt? wanna show how much of a good boy you are?” i kissed his cheek and tucked his hair behind his red ear, continuously jerking him off.
“fuck, please!” he said, the loudest he’d been the entire night. “i’m your good boy! wanna cum, p-please”
“go ahead” i allowed him, peppering pecks on his damp forehead, sweat dripping from his neck all the day down to his tummy, which was soon painted white from matt’s release. he threw his head back, whimpering as he came on my hand, thick spurt messing us both. 
i got up to wash my hands and grab him a towel, letting matt rest as he came from his high, chest still rising rapidly.
“thank you” he mumbled when i offered to clean him up. “i’m sorry i made such a mess” matt chuckled, watching as i wiped his cum off. “don’t apologize, you did really well babyboy” i praised.
“can… can i try?” he asked me, reaching for his glasses over the table. he quickly put them on again, reading my confused expression. “i wanna make you feel good too” matt said, turning his body to face me.
“you want me to teach you how to please a girl?” i teased him, bringing both of my legs to my chest, exposing the back of my thighs to him.
matt checked me out from head to toe, stopping where my feet landed and not being able to take his eyes off the panties i purposely wore. i knew he’d love pink. “no, not any girl. you- wanna be good for you” he confessed, sliding off his chair and kneeling on the ground.
i widened my eyes, not expecting matt’s sudden move. he touched the hem of my shorts, silently asking me to take them off. i quickly removed it, letting it slide down my legs along with my panties, fully exposing my pussy to him.
“oh, fuck” he mumbled. “it’s so pretty and it’s… it’s all wet”
“you did that to me” i told him, moving my hair to the side so i could get a better look of matt eating me out for the first time.
“how should i do it?” he asked, blue eyes looking for reassurance. my hands went to his brown curls, bringing his face closer to my crotch.
matt stuck his tongue out, slowly licking my lower lips. he widened his eyes once again, probably surprised by the taste and gave it another try as i giggled at his shy performance. matt’s large hands went to my thighs, forcing my legs open as he fully went for it, pressuring a kiss against my clit. i gasped when he started to swirl his tongue on me, spit drooling down his chin as he licked me in the messiest, sloppiest way.
“matt” i called but he didn’t even listen, still eating me out, only raising his eyebrows as he looked at me through his glasses. “you never done this before?” i sighed deeply, tangling my fingers on his hair as i lowered my hips on him.
matt hummed something, probably agreeing with what i had asked, but this only send a wave of vibrations through my folds, my thighs suddenly closing around his head as i felt my orgasm approaching. he was way too good for a virgin.
“matt- fuck!” i moaned loudly, the knot on my lower belly begging to be released. “i’m gonna cum!” i warned as he was about the have a taste for the first time. he moved downwards and started to tease my entrance, his tongue pushing inside my slit as i kept on moving my hips, practically humping his face.
matt continued to eat me out as my orgasm washed over me, making me throw my head back and my body tremble due the overstimulation. i had to pull his hair so he’d remove himself from me, watching his swollen lips covered with my cum. matt licked my release and went back to my thighs, biting my bare skin. “enough, baby” i moaned, feeling his hands holding me in place. “matthew, i said enough”.
he groaned in protest, not wanting to stop. matt gave a few more kisses down my legs, pulling away and staring at me with puppy eyes. i caressed his brown strands, soon cupping his cheeks and sealing our lips. “you did really well for a first time, matt” i thanked him as he got up, sliding his jeans back on.
“so…” he started. “i’m guessing you gave up on your homework?”
“of course not” i rolled my eyes, watching as he buttoned his shirt. “i’m gonna need this good boy to help me every week”.
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taglist (drop a 🌸!): @thepubeburgler @submattenthusiast @pearlzier @mattsfavbitchhh @her-favorite @bugeyedgrl @mattslittlecumsslut @sturncakez @riowritesitall @joemamaaa42069 @mattsturnswife @sturnsmia @sturnthepot @mattscoquette @sturniolofandomthings @conspiracy-ash @ilovemattsturn @lizzymacdonald06 @sofieeeeex @blahbel668 @fratbrochrisgf @bagsbyclair0
for this fic: @sturnstar169 @anitahunt333 @mattgirl4lyfe @fratboychrisera
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dollgxtz · 1 month ago
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I gotta know when you’re posting the Zayne CNC fic??? I’ve been checking your blog multiple times a day for it!
But realistically, no pressure 😂 I know writing is hard, and I can wait, lol. It’s worth the wait. I just want to show support for you and your craft. ❤️
Also, I love your yandere!Sylus fic! I’m only on chapter four and I see so many asks about it and I have to physically stop myself from spoiling it for myself, lmao. I’m so excited to read more! Your writing and your tics are a highlight of my day. 😊🥰
Edge Of Control
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Word Count: 6.2k
Tags: zayne x fem!reader, cnc, cutting, tw slight blood, scalpel play, choking, biting, degradation, blowjob, degrading names, pet names like darling, pain play, home invasion roleplay, primal play, aftercare in the end
AN: Hi everyone! I know this was a LONG awaited fic but I wanted it to be absolutely perfect for my second husband ^0^. Also ty anon for the very sweet words! I hope this fic makes up for the amount of time you had to wait!!!
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It was well past midnight, and the house felt eerily quiet without him. You lay on the couch, wearing nothing but a pair of Zayne’s boxers, the soft fabric a small comfort in his absence. A half-empty bottle of wine sat forgotten on the floor beside you, each sip doing little to calm the restless energy humming beneath your skin. The TV flickered, casting shadows across the room as you absentmindedly flicked through the channels, though nothing could hold your attention.
Your mind kept wandering back to Zayne, a dull ache settling in your chest. He was on another one of those grueling shifts—long hours with no word, no way to reach out to him. The pit of anxiety in your stomach tightened. You didn’t know exactly what his job as a surgeon demanded of him, but you could see it weighing on him more and more. His face had grown tired, the usual sparkle in his eyes dulled by exhaustion. You noticed the way his shoulders remained stiff, tension knotting in his body like a rope pulled too tight, barely holding it together.
Every time he came home like this, you saw it—the frustration simmering just beneath the surface. His body brimming with pent-up energy, adrenaline coursing through his veins with no way to let go. He was so tightly wound, like he was carrying the weight of a world you couldn’t fully understand. And every time you saw him like that, it broke something inside you. You wanted to help him. You wanted to be the one to take that edge off, to give him the release he so desperately needed but would never ask for.
You remembered the last time he came home with that storm in his eyes. Desperation had driven you to plead with him, to offer yourself as an outlet for all that tension, that frustration. You had begged him, your voice trembling, to let go, to take what he needed from you. But he refused. The worry in his eyes had cut deep, his voice firm but laced with guilt as he told you he didn’t want to hurt you.
That memory lingered now, thick in your chest. He was always so controlled, so careful. You knew he loved you, but there was a part of him that he kept locked away, too afraid to unleash it. But you wanted it—you craved it. You wanted him to feel safe enough to lose that control with you, to trust that you could handle it. That you wanted to handle it. But no matter how much you tried to reach him, he kept that wall up, afraid of what might happen if he let himself go.
You took another slow sip of wine, feeling the warmth of it spread through your chest, slightly loosening the anxious knot that had taken residence in your stomach. You always drank more when he was away—needed it, really. It dulled the sharp edges of worry that kept you up at night, made sleep feel a little less impossible. Without him beside you, the house felt too empty, and your mind raced with thoughts you couldn’t control.
Your eyes drifted shut, and the thought crossed your mind again—he could hurt you, if he wanted to. God, he was strong enough. His hands, so skilled and sure in the operating room, could easily push you beyond your limits if he ever let himself go. He knew the human body better than anyone; he understood exactly where and how to apply pressure, how to control every reaction. And then there was the scalpel—his precision tool of choice. He was so adept with it, using it in ways you’d never imagined.
You remembered the first time he’d worked it into one of your nights together, after you had begged him to try something more daring, something that would leave you breathless. He had been hesitant at first, but the results... God, the results. The thrill of that sharp edge glinting in the dim light, the cold metal kissing your skin before it pressed just enough to break the surface. You shivered as the memory washed over you, your body tingling with the vivid recollection.
The pain had been brief, but it was the anticipation, the unspoken threat, that had driven you wild. You could still feel it—the delicate line of fire it had traced across your shoulder, a stinging reminder of his control. And then the blade had hovered at your throat, a silent promise lingering in the air between you, making your pulse race and your breath catch in your throat. In that moment, you had never felt more alive, more his.
Your hand had barely slipped down to your heat when the sharp trill of your phone cut through the quiet. Heart pounding, you snatched it up, the suddenness of it snapping you out of your haze.
“Hello?” you answered, your voice a little breathless, still tangled in the memory of him.
“Is that offer still on the table?” Zayne’s voice poured through the speaker, low and worn, with that familiar undercurrent of exhaustion. But there was something else this time—something darker. His words dripped with a kind of danger, smooth and sweet like black honey, making your stomach flip.
You swallowed hard, a spark igniting low in your belly. “Uh, depends which one,” you managed, trying to play it cool as you sat up, bringing the wine bottle to your lips for another sip. Your heart was racing, anticipation thrumming under your skin.
“The one where I use you.”
The words hit you like a jolt of electricity, sending a thrill straight to your core. The raw need in his voice was unmistakable, and it struck every nerve you had. You faltered for a moment, caught off guard by the intensity of your own reaction. You tried to cover the sudden loss of words with another drink, the wine sliding down your throat as you let the tension stretch between you.
One more sip—just one more for courage. Then, finally, you answered, your voice steadier than you felt.
“Yes.”
“Is the wine good, darling?”
The question hung in the air, and your heart skipped a beat. “What?” you murmured, glancing around the dark living room. The flicker of the TV had left your eyes hazy, still not fully adjusted to the shadows creeping through the room. How did he know you’d been drinking wine?
Your breath caught as an icy chill swept through the house, raising goosebumps on your skin. Instinctively, your gaze darted to the front door, and your stomach dropped. It was wide open, swaying slightly as a gust of wind pushed against it.
You hadn’t heard a thing. Not the lock turning, not the door creaking. Nothing.
How had he gotten in without you noticing?
You stared at the door, frozen in place, watching as it swung shut on its own, the soft click of the latch echoing through the quiet. A chill ran down your spine as the realization hit—you hadn’t heard him enter on purpose. He wanted you to know he’d slipped in unnoticed, that he’d been watching you this whole time. Your mind spun with the thought: How long had he been there?
The phone slipped from your grasp, and you barely registered the sharp whine of the line going dead, drowned out by the thundering pulse of your heartbeat in your ears.
The soft but deliberate sound of shoes against the ceramic floor snapped you back into focus. Your senses sharpened, instincts kicking in. He was coming closer—fast.
In the low, flickering light of the TV, you saw him emerge from the shadows. Long strides brought him swiftly across the room, his form cutting through the dim light with an air of purpose. His form caught the harsh glow—the broad shoulders of his body, the sharp angles of his face—only partially revealed, but enough to make your breath hitch.
Then, without warning, the TV blinked out, plunging the room into complete darkness. The sudden silence was deafening. The sound of his footsteps, which had been closing in on you, vanished as if he’d disappeared into the night itself.
But you knew better.
He was there, somewhere in the blackness, waiting for you to realize it. The tension in the air was thick, every hair on your body standing on end as you strained to hear the slightest movement, feel the faintest brush of his presence.
You held your breath, every muscle in your body coiled tight. The tension crackled in the dark, your senses heightened by the weight of his silent presence.
Suddenly, the TV blared a sharp noise from the movie, flooding the room with light for just a second. And there he was, Zayne, only a few feet away—moving like a shadow, so silently it made your skin crawl. His face was bathed in the cold glow, and the way the light played off his sharp features made him look almost predatory. His expression was intense, dark, and unreadable, as if he was walking a line between control and something much more dangerous.
Your brain screamed danger. Fight or flight surged through your veins, heart hammering against your ribcage as self-preservation took over. Without thinking, your hand tightened around the neck of the wine bottle, the glass cool and smooth in your grip. Before you could second-guess it, you raised it high above your head and hurled it straight at him, instinct driving your every move.
But then—he catches it. Effortlessly. The bottle freezes mid-air, his hand snapping up to grab it as if it were nothing more than a tossed pillow. He doesn’t flinch. His stride doesn’t break. His hazel green eyes, burning with that same dangerous intensity, never leave yours for even a second. The best defense you could muster didn’t even make him blink.
Calmly, as though the act hadn’t fazed him at all, he places the bottle on the side table, his gaze still locked on you. The silence between you feels deafening as he closes the distance, his steps slow but deliberate.
Panic shot through you like a wild animal, adrenaline making your limbs tremble. But something else flared right alongside it—something that sent a pulse of heat straight to your core. It was fear, raw and visceral, but it was tangled up with desire, twisted into something you couldn’t quite understand but craved all the same.
You held your breath, every muscle in your body coiled tight. The tension crackled in the dark, your senses heightened by the weight of his silent presence.
Like prey trapped in the gaze of a predator, you couldn’t move.
Couldn’t look away.
And you almost didn’t want to.
You whip around, adrenaline taking over, and try to run—but you barely make it a few steps before it’s too late. You don’t even hear him behind you. The silence is terrifying, disorienting. Then, out of nowhere, his hand clamps around your elbow, and a startled shriek escapes your lips, cut off as he uses your momentum against you, spinning you sharply into the wall.
Your back collides with it hard, knocking the breath from your lungs. A whimper slips out, unbidden, from the shock of the impact. Before you can recover, Zayne’s voice, low and commanding, hisses in your ear.
“Don’t fight it,” he growls, the words sharp like a promise. “You asked for this.”
Panic surges through your body, instinct screaming at you to get away. “Let go!” you cry out, fear pulsing hot and fast through your veins. But your voice is weak, barely masking the excitement that’s battling for control inside you.
He doesn’t. Instead, he’s on you again, his mouth descending on your neck with a hunger that makes your pulse quicken. One of his hands grips your jaw with rough precision, calloused fingers pressing into your skin, holding you in place. You try to twist away, but he holds you firm, his touch demanding, possessive.
His lips travel down your neck, finding your pulse point first, then moving lower, grazing the soft curve beneath your ear. The sensation sends a shiver down your spine, and despite the panic swirling in your chest, a desperate whimper escapes. Your body betrays you, your hips instinctively rocking toward him, already aching for his touch. The heat between your legs flares, want burning through the fear.
His tongue traces a line down your neck, the warmth of it lingering only for a moment before the cool air chills the wet skin. Then his teeth sink into the muscle above your collarbone, not hard enough to break the skin but enough to make you gasp in pain. You wince, your body tensing as the sharp sensation rolls through you.
Your hand flies up to his head, fingers tangling in his hair as you try to push him off, your grip weak and trembling. But Zayne doesn't budge. His strength overwhelms you, his body pressing against yours with an intensity that leaves no room for escape. His breath is hot against your skin as he continues, relentless, leaving you caught between fear and an overpowering need that consumes you both.
"Zayne," you whimper. He releases his teeth from your neck with a chuckle that curls fear inside you…
His hands take your wrists, leading them above your head. You try to squirm out of his grasp. Partly because you don’t want to give him the satisfaction of pinning you. Partly out of the fear of what he could do if you can’t push him away, his entire aura shifted to something more angry and dangerous than usual. 
"Don't pretend like you don't like it," he says into the angle of your jaw. He leaves soft kisses there while he effortlessly pins your arms above your head. He holds them there with one hand.
The other gropes and squeezes it’s way down your body. Your chest, your side, your waist. He grabs a hold of your hips, thumb perfectly lining up with the dune of your hipbone. He pulls your hips towards him harshly enough to draw a noise from your lips. He works his knee between your thighs, then pushes them open. He swallows any attempted protests with a kiss. His knee presses against your sensitive cunt and you whimper against his lips in response. 
“Oh, what happened to all the struggling?” Zayne mocks you, punctuating his words by squeezing your wrists hard enough to bruise. His hand comes up under your t-shirt and you shiver against the sensation of his fingers on your bare skin. You melt. Fucking putty in his hands.
You open your mouth to protest, to say anything that might break the tension or reclaim some of your control, but before the words can form, Zayne grinds his knee into your core. The pressure sends a jolt of raw pleasure through your body, and the only sound that escapes is a desperate, breathy whine. His reaction is immediate—he hums with satisfaction, his lips curving into a smug smile. He does it again, harder this time, and you can feel him reveling in the control, in the power he has over you.
Your mind scrambles to catch up with your body, which is already responding in ways you can’t hide. You try to meet his gaze, desperately wanting to say something sharp, something biting, anything to regain your footing. But the moment your eyes lock with his, whatever witty retort you had dies on your tongue.
His face is half-hidden in the darkness, but his eyes... there’s something in them that makes your heart stutter. Not just the hunger, not just the dominance—it’s deeper. There’s a flash of genuine anger simmering beneath the surface, something darker that you hadn’t expected, and it sends a ripple of unease through you. The intensity of it levels you, catching you off guard.
Suddenly, this feels like more than just a game. Warmth floods your chest, your body still responding to him in ways you can’t control, but a new sense of apprehension takes root. You’re playing with something dangerous, something unpredictable. The heat between you is no longer just desire—it’s the burn of real fire, and you’re not sure if you’re ready for the flames.
Your breath comes faster as you take in the sight of him. His chest rising and falling, his lips parted slightly, the way his muscles tense beneath his skin. You’re mesmerized, caught between the fear of what he might do next and the undeniable pull he has over you.
You take him in, eyes sweeping over the familiar lines of his body now that he’s standing in front of you. His white lab coat is gone, discarded somewhere behind him, leaving him in his crisp white dress shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows as if he couldn’t be bothered to fully undress. His shirt is buttoned neatly up to the collar, accentuating his thick, muscular frame in a way that makes your heart skip a beat. The tie around his neck is still knotted, slightly loosened from a long day’s work, but there’s something disheveled about him now—something raw and untamed lurking beneath the polished exterior.
His dark slacks cling to his legs, perfectly tailored to his build, emphasizing his long leg now settled between your core. The soft fabric sways with his movements, while his polished shoes make almost no sound against the floor, their silence unsettling given the tension simmering between you.
His arms cage you in, closing off this small corner of the world to just the two of you. It feels like there’s nothing outside this moment, no one else but him—towering over you, his strength radiating off him in waves. The air between you feels thick, charged with tension and unspoken desire. Your gaze travels back to his face, meeting his intense eyes, and despite the weight of the moment, you can’t help but smile mischievously.
Without a second thought, you turn your head and sink your teeth into his arm, biting down just enough to feel the resistance of his skin, tasting the salty warmth of him. At the same time, you grind your hips down against him, pressing into the hardness beneath his slacks.
You expect him to react instantly, to snarl an insult or degrade you for your boldness. To throw out one of his usual threats—punishment, discipline—his voice dripping with disdain for your insolence, for the way you always push his boundaries. You brace yourself for it, for the sting of his words, the sharp crack of his tone that would send heat rushing through your body.
But it doesn’t come.
Instead, he goes completely still. The tension in his muscles shifts, tightening under your bite, but his silence unnerves you more than anything. You can feel it—the raw power coursing just beneath his skin, his body vibrating with restraint. His muscles flex under your teeth, taut with the effort of holding something back. You release your grip slightly, confused, nervous. But Zayne says nothing. He’s a coiled spring, quiet, calculating, like a predator biding its time.
Methodically, he moves, his hands sliding down your arms, his touch precise, controlled, like he’s performing surgery. Each motion deliberate, calculated. His fingers glide over your skin, and with each inch he covers, the nervousness inside you builds. His control feels absolute, every movement designed to unsettle, to leave you wondering what’s coming next.
Then his hands reach your head, enveloping it completely. His fingers curl around your skull, not rough but firm enough to make you feel small, trapped in his grip. His thumbs rest near your temples, steady, as if he’s taking his time to savor the way your breath catches. The weight of his touch presses down on you, making it impossible to move.
With one harsh movement, he’s pushed you down onto your knees. He undoes his belt and pulls himself free, his beautiful cock glistening with pre-cum. One hand presses hard into your jaw. Harder. His thumb pressing against the muscles there until you open your mouth for him. The head of his cock comes to rest against your lips.
The taste of salt and Zayne’s soap is too tempting to resist. He was usually such a giver, and when you went down on him, he always liked it slow. You lick up the length of his cock and he shivers in response. He drops his hands to your shoulders and you watch his forearms flex in pleasure. Your tongue swirls around his soft tip, and then you take him into your mouth soft and sweet.
Except... this time he doesn’t respond with shaking breaths and high pitched whimpers. Not even an utterance of your name. Insecurity flashes through you - you were sure this is how he usually liked it. Were you not doing well enough for him? You cast your eyes upwards for guidance, barely able to see him in the dark. 
“You really think that’s going to cut it?” His voice is cold and hard. Then his hands are on the back of your head, pushing you down onto his cock so fast and deep you almost gag. You pull away to drag a sharp breath into your lungs, abdomen muscles flexing.
 “You want to be fucked like a slut, you’re going to have to earn it.” He pulls you back down onto him.
Suppressing the urge to gag brings tears to your eyes, and it isn’t long until they’re falling down your cheek, mingling with the saliva making a mess of your mouth and chin. Wet, choking noises echo into the empty hall. When you start to slow, whimpering from the effort, he’s quick to pick up the slack. He thrusts his hips forward, pinning your head between him and the wall. You choke and gag around him, struggling to adjust around the brutal pace he sets, fucking your throat like you're nothing to him but a toy. Your hands come up to his hips, but he wrenches them away with a furious grunt. 
He pulls out suddenly, thick strands of saliva dripping off his cock. His breathing is hard and sweat rolls down the lines of his ab muscles. Your shoulders slump and you try to catch your breath. You’re absolutely spent. How humiliating that he didn’t even have to touch you to keep you wet for him, a vague sense of disgust emanating through your core.
“Was that good enough?” you weakly ask, but you might as well be begging him to fuck you for the look in your eyes. You don’t even bother to wipe the spit from your chin or the tears from your cheeks. You hope the sight gets under his skin so he can fuck you just as rough as he did your throat. 
“I don’t buy it,” he says. You furrow your eyebrows in confusion and frustration. 
“What?” 
“I just don’t buy that you want me to fuck you.” 
You’re about to ask what you can possibly do more to prove it when something hard presses against your warmth, pushing your soaked boxers against you. You look down do see Zayne presenting his shoe. Polished and tightly tied, the mere sight of them gave obvious impression of what he wanted from you. But why?
You look up at him, but all he does is look back at you, expectantly. Your can feel the heat creeping up your neck as you adjust to straddle his shoe. You keep hoping he’ll just end your suffering by mocking you for even considering it, but it never comes. The cold, hard leather against you sends a wave of electricity through your body. Your hips are moving on their own. Your body desperate for anything it can get, chasing it’s high no matter how humiliating. You turn your face away from him, unable to stand him looking at you like this. Grinding against his shoe... 
“There they are. My desperate little darling,” his voice has the first touch of warmth it’s had all night. It’s enough to spurn you on, the heat coiling in your abdomen. You pick up the pace against your will, your body chasing ecstasy like an uncaged animal. And Zayne just watches you, expression never changing, never reaching down to touch you. God, were you really going to cum on his shoe while he looked at you like that?
He kneeled down to one knee, doing his best not to disturb your work. His strong hands take hold of your hips and push you harder against his shoe, dragging your hips up and down. You moan, tears collecting in your eyes again. You can’t believe you’re enjoying this. Even - no, especially because it hurt. You were getting closer, your moans coming faster. 
“Beg for it,” Zayne orders. 
“Please let me cum, Zayne, please!” 
“Tsk. Not that,” he pulls his shoe away like he's disgusted and you whimper in protest. Then, as if you were light as a feather, he’s tossing you to the side. You catch yourself on your elbows and feel them scrape against the ceramic floor. Your hips grind against the air as they searched for any friction at all that would send you over the edge. They found nothing. 
“Silly girl.” He sounds bored as he stands to his full height above you.
You watch as his hand pulls a scalpel from his pocket. It captures his full attention, glinting in the light of the TV behind him. When he speaks, it's almost to the room.
“Isn’t this your favorite part? Where you try and fail to escape?” 
You don’t move. He flips the scalpel in the air, catching it by the tip of the blade, and then again to catch it by the handle. He admires it as if it were the most beautiful thing in the world. 
“Start crawling,” he suggests. 
You push yourself onto tired, shaking limbs and try to get up. They give out on you. You pull yourself forward on your elbows instead. You hear the nearly silent creak of his shoes. The another. Then another. You feel small crawling beneath him, listening to the gentle whirl of the scalpel as he tosses it in the air. His shoes creak again, then again. 
You turned to look at him. You were almost overwhelmed at how he towered above you. His broad shoulders blocking out the light in the hallway. One hand busy toying with the scalpel, the other pulling his pants further down his hips. He was clearly taking his time.
“You ever wonder why you like to fight so much?” You watch shoe follow shoe in lazy strides until they were at either side of your ribcage, standing above you.
“Should I let you get away again?” he asks, but then he’s dropping to his knees, pinning you beneath him. Fear takes hold of your vocal chords and you make a desperate noise, pushing at his legs. “Will you just give in already?” 
With a calculated shift, Zayne turns your body to face him, your heart pounding so hard it feels like it might burst from your chest. The tension between you crackles in the air, and before you can fully process what’s happening, his hand finds your neck, fingers wrapping around it with unyielding force. His palm presses against your throat, squeezing just enough to send a jolt of pain through you, sharp and undeniable.
"It takes about 10 seconds for pressure to the jugular to result in unconsciousness," Zayne says calmly, his voice low, almost clinical, as if reciting a fact from one of his textbooks. His grip tightens again, harder this time, and the sensation of control he wields is overwhelming.
The edges of your vision blur almost immediately, the world around you starting to fade. You feel lightheaded, like the ground is slipping away beneath your feet, your body caught in the thin space between pain and pleasure. But beneath the intoxicating sensations, panic begins to swell. The lightness in your head grows, and then you feel weightless, disconnected from reality as the darkness creeps in around your sight.
Your body starts to respond, instinct driving you toward the rising sense of panic. The pleasure and thrill that had mixed with the danger of it all suddenly feel too real, too much, as Zayne relentlessly pushes you to your limits.
You bring your hand up weakly, your fingers trembling, and tap his arm three times. The motion is small but deliberate, your safe signal.
For a brief, terrifying second, you wonder if he’s noticed.
He releases and you gasp for air. He lets you catch your breath, and for a minute you’re almost angry. But the growing wet between your legs betrays you to yourself, forcing you to admit you liked being pushed to the edge. An exhilarated smile picks up the corners of your mouth and Zayne, intently waiting for you to lead, just watches.
“More,” is all you need to say, and he’s on you again. Hand lighter on your throat, he brandishes the scalpel to catch your eye. It makes contact with your skin and you fight to control a shiver. 
It glides around your shoulder, then down your collar bone. The razor sharp point leaving a thin, red cut beneath the bone. You gasp, back arching into the sting. He withdraws. 
“If you keep squirming, I’m going to hurt you for real.” It’s as much a warning as it is a threat, and the dark rasp of his voice sends a chill down your spine. 
Then you go still again, he continues. The scalpel crosses your chest, taking it’s time tracing each and every one of your ribs. He draws a bead of blood there, before lifting the blade again. You moan, squeezing your thighs together to keep from moving your hips. The anticipation almost too much for you. But the movement catches his eye. He pockets the scalpel, and then he’s prying your thighs apart so hard you feel the ache in your hips. You try to shimmy away, but his hands hold your thighs fast against him. 
“I said hold still,” he grunts, squeezing his hands around the squish of your thighs hard enough that you make a noise. "What part of stop squirming do you not get?"
Your hand comes up to his hips, trying to hold them at a distance, but it doesn’t help. He pulls you closer to him and you feel his cock hard and leaking over your boxers. Fuck, you almost come undone all over again. Feeling him pressed against you like this... his cock easily reaching your belly button, reminding you how deep inside you he could be. 
“Zayne, please,” you whimper. 
“Please what?” He asks. You feel the cold blade against the tender, exposed part of your thigh. 
“Please fuck me.” 
He grunts, a noise that commits to nothing. He pulls the fabric of your boxers off your body and slips the scalpel beneath it. He cuts the thin fabric off of you in a show of strength and skill that intimidates you. 
He leans over you slowly, his hips pressed flush against yours, his cock pressed against where you want it most. A hand comes up to your face then, holding your jaw hard as he turns your face away from his. The scalpels beautiful surface approaches your cheek. Your breath picks up, fear coursing through you. He says nothing, and it makes it all the more terrifying. Your instincts freeze every muscle in your body. 
“You asked for this,” he reminds you, tracing the curve of your cheek. You bite your lip.
He pockets the scalpel once more, and you realize then that he's still entirely dressed, his pants only pulled down enough to fuck you. He shifts his hips, lining up with your needy hole. You’re already moaning for him.
“Begging me to use you like this, begging me to hurt you like this.” He pushes into you, your cunt struggling to adjust to his size. He only makes it a couple inches. He pulls out of you, then thrusts again, moaning as he does. This time when he pushes into you, he completely fills you. You both release an almost victorious sigh.
“Always fucking struggling. Can never just make it easy,” he growls, that angry look in his eye. His jaw flexes. Your cunt tenses around him.
He thrusts into you again, and again, so hard it feels like he could fuck you in half. He dips his face into your neck, moaning.
"You want me to force you onto my cock." His voice tightened with effort, but never lost that black-honey edge. "Can't say no to you. Do this because I love you."
You reach up and cling to his shoulders, nails digging into the fabric. His words shouldn't thrill you, but they did. Your eyes flutter closed. Your body shook beneath him.
“This is messed up,” Zayne’s hips start to pick up their pace. You wrap your legs around him, encouraging him, pulling him deeper into you. You find yourself moaning his own words back at him; so messed up, so messed up. 
Fuck, he felt so good. The two of you dissolved into senseless babbling, saying whatever it took to push each other closer to the edge. A meaningless cloud of fuck and just like that and you begged for this until neither of you could form words at all. Your pace became erratic, moaning into each other’s necks, limbs tightening around each other as you both approached your highs.
“Fuck, fuck, m’so-” you barely manage, panting and moaning through your words. Your thighs tighten around him and he groans in response. 
And then you’re coming undone together. His hips driving his cock as deep as they can with the primal need to fuck his cum deeper inside you. You take it, greedily, breathlessly as your own climax rocks through your body like an earthquake. 
He rests his forehead against your chest while he pulls out of you, then collapses onto the cool ceramic floor of the hallway beside you. He turns you onto your side and buries his head against your back, forearms tight against your chest while he hugs you close to him. 
“I didn’t think,” you take a deep breath, trying not to pant through your sentence, “that when I asked you to use me after your work shifts, that it’d be like that.” 
“Bad?” He asks, his voice uncharacteristically small. 
“No, no,” you rush to recover the situation. You lace your fingers with his, “Of course not.” 
He says nothing. You turn to look at him, and there’s that distant, tired look on his face. 
“Are you okay...?” 
“I will tell you about it soon, darling” he says. You hum as acknowledgement, wishing you could say anything, but feeling like nothing was the right thing to say. Instead you just let him hold you for awhile. 
Zayne held you close, his body a solid, comforting weight against yours, his bodily warmth gradually soothing the whirlwind of sensation still buzzing under your skin. But then, you felt him shift. His fingers, cold and precise, began to ghost over the cuts he had made, tracing the delicate lines he’d etched into your skin with surgical precision. You shivered at his touch, a soft gasp escaping your lips.
His eyes softened, and in a voice barely louder than a whisper, he said, “I need to tend to these.” His words were gentle, but firm, a quiet reminder of the care he always took with you, even now.
He pressed a tender kiss to your temple, the warmth of it contrasting with the coolness of his fingers, and then he pulled away. You watched him button his pants, his movements deliberate but unhurried, before disappearing down the hall. Even through the exhaustion weighing you down, you heard the faint sound of him rummaging in the bathroom, retrieving what he needed.
When he returned, Zayne knelt beside you, his medical kit in hand. His usual calm, professional demeanor was still there, but this time it was softened with a tenderness only reserved for you. Gently, he began to disinfect the cuts, his touch as light as it was thorough. The sting of the antiseptic bit into your skin, making you wince, but his hand found yours, his thumb brushing reassuringly over your knuckles. It was a silent promise: I’m here, I’ve got you.
With every stroke of the gauze, every carefully placed bandaid, Zayne’s focus never wavered. His gaze remained trained on you, on the cuts he was tending to, but there was something deeper in his expression—something protective, almost reverent, as though he was caring for a part of himself.
When he finally finished, he sat back slightly, his hand resting on your arm, his eyes searching yours as if to make sure you were truly okay. You could see the tension from earlier still lingering in the set of his jaw, the concern etched faintly into the lines of his face.
“I’m okay, I promise,” you murmured, your voice heavy with exhaustion, your body finally giving in to the weight of the night. Your limbs felt like lead, but your heart fluttered at the care he was taking with you, the gentleness of his hands now so different from the intensity you’d felt earlier.
“I’m just…so exhausted now” you sigh, briefly closing your eyes as another wave of tiredness washed through you.
Zayne’s expression softened into a small smile, one so full of adoration it made your chest tighten with affection. He stood, helping you up with careful hands, supporting your weight as he guided you to the couch. His arm stayed wrapped around you, keeping you close, steadying you as he laid you down gently, as though you were something fragile.
He settled in beside you, his body curling protectively around yours, pulling you against his chest. “We’ll clean up later,” he whispered, his lips brushing against your forehead in a soft kiss. The warmth of his breath and the steady rhythm of his heartbeat lulled you, the scent of him comforting, grounding you.
You nestled deeper into him, the tension of the night melting away in his embrace. Wrapped in his arms, in the safety of his presence, your exhaustion finally caught up with you. Your eyelids fluttered closed, the world around you fading into the soft haze of sleep. And there, in the quiet of the night, you both drifted off together, tangled in each other, with nothing but the sound of your breathing and the quiet rise and fall of his chest.
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uyuforu · 4 months ago
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Astro Observations: Solar Return Chart IV
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Hi!! Here is another Solar Return Chart Observations post lol. Since I am officially on the new one, I thought of doing another post to conclude and coming back on the last one, meaning the one of last year. Coming back and looking back over what happened :) Let's go! I hope you will enjoy this post ^^ This post has mature and triggering contents, so be aware and careful when reading it!
All pictures were found on Pinterest
Other posts you could like:
જ⁀➴ Solar Return Chart I
જ⁀➴ Solar Return Chart II
જ⁀➴ Solar Return Chart III
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꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱ I was Leo Rising last year, and I was very popular around me, people were also checking me in the streets. It wasn't even sexual or anything, people were just noticing me super easily, and I was the center of attention wherever I was going.
꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱ Sun 12H indeed meant that loneliness was def going to be there. I was very lonely most of the times, and it's not even physically, it was def mentally. I wasn't seeing my friends often, and I was just feeling very alone in a corner. I felt like no one really understood me and as if I was just left alone. One of my friend passed away suddenly also this year, so I really felt alone for sure. Also the years I was more into Astrology and Tarot! Just a full year of learning more on the spiritual and esoteric side!
꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱ Venus 1H, I had a glow up, though it happened quite over night. I don't have much explanations on how it happened. Suddenly I was veryyyy pretty, I bought better make up products, and the way it was showing on my face was just insanely good?? IDK!
꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱ Mercury 1H, I was more confident when it came to talking to other people. I used to be very shy, and used to not be confident enough to talk to others, but this year I felt more confident to do it. Anxiety when calling, ordering disappeared. And I was less scared to talk back to people.
꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱ 1H Ruler in 12H, I was most of the times by myself, mostly doing things on my own, and I felt very alone.
꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱ Mars 2H, I was much into shopping some times, and I was more anxious and stressed about making money. I had a lot of motivation about it.
꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱ 2H Ruler in 1H, I was more spending money on myself.
꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱ 3H Ruler in 1H, I was talking more about myself to others, than before. And I was also writing more about myself, for example on the blog I post a lot about my experiences to support my theories.
꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱ Scorpio 4H, time at home was stressing and slightly toxic. I had this need to runaway or even live somewhere else. I wanted to escape. My idea of home changed.
꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱ 4H Ruler in 6H, staying at home was my routine, I was working from home too.
꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱ Vertex 5H, some destined events happened in my love life.
꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱ 5H Ruler in 9H, I traveled to NYC last year, and it was for holidays. I traveled to meet someone I loved (who didn't come in the end lmao). I also met another guy who had a crush on me there.
꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱ Pluto 6H, I took some weight lol, not so much. Since I moved less because of my job, I kept seating down and took some weight.
꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱ 6H Ruler in 7H, I was healing my relationships trauma last year, I went to therapy and understood a lot of traumas I had. I also made a lot of friends at work.
꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱ Aquarius DC, a lot of things changed in my relationships, I realized tons tons tons of things!
꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱ 7H Ruler in 10H, I was in a serious relationship last year, but 7H was ruled by Uranus, and it didn't end well.
꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱ Saturn 7H, didn't see my FS all year, didn't talk to him. And when I asked to meet him, he refused. Def a year I couldn't reach out or talk to him! I also couldn't be in a relationship, or anytime a guy had an interest in my, it's like the Universe worked through to not make it work out. I also broke up with my ex bf that year.
꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱ Saturn conjunct Groom, same!
꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱ Groom 7H, I realized my FS was my FS last year. I also realized I was in love with him.
꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱ Neptune 8H, I had a lot of vivid dreams last year, I dreamed of my mother in law too, and of my FS as well, both of them talking through dreams to me. I also didn't had s3x all year, refused any s3xual advanced. Though, I had a lot of s3xual dreams.
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꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱ 8H Ruler in 8H, transformation was a keyword last year, I was also more open on the spiritual side, and I had a lot of grow that happened.
꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱ Moon 9H, I was constantly learning new things, and more on the spiritual side, and also esoteric. I discovered so many new things, and I needed that. I wanted more and more!
꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱ Chiron 9H, i traveled and felt like the travel I did was a waste of time and money lol ;-;
꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱ 9H Ruler in 2H, I traveled to NYC and it was painful for my bank account.
꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱ Jupiter 9H, similar to Moon 9H.
꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱ Moon conjunct Chiron, my feelings were hurt often this year. I was crying A LOT in general. Perhaps the year I cried the most.
꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱ Jupiter conjunct Uranus, a lot of benefic transformation, despite it wasn't that easy sometimes or just very sudden.
꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱ Taurus MC, a year of trying to find a harmonious balance at work, and trying to find my way. Was focused on the money I made, and also trying to find a routine through work.
꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱ Uranus 10H, I changed jobs twice last year! I was fired, I just changed. And by the end of the second job, I decided to work at my own name. And so, I now work online, as an Astrologer! Uranus also rule here over uncommon jobs.
꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱ 10H Ruler in 1H, was more popular, and people noticed me in the crowd more easily. I also decided to work for myself, and started my own company.
꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱ 11H Ruler in 1H, I was positing lot more selfies and pictures of me than before online. I also had a lot of internet friends.
꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱ Union Cancer 11H, I met one of my best friend last year, she is a Cancer Sun and we met online!
꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱ Juno 12H, i was dreaming a lot of my FS this year, also didn't meet or talked to him all year.
꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱ 12H Ruler in 9H, I traveled this year, and overseas!
꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱ Sun conjunct Venus, I was and felt more pretty, a glow up that happened!
꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱ Mercury conjunct Mars, I was more aggressive sometimes when I was speaking, I was often aggressive when trying to stand up for myself, or just explaining myself, I think it was me finding the right adjustment between never standing up for myself before, and doing it now, but not knowing how.
꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱ Groom conjunct Neptune, dreamed a lot of my FS.
꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱ Sun opposite DC, didn't see or talked to my FS for the whole SRC, I also didn't want to be in a relationship.
꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱ Venus conjunct Rising, very same as Venus 1H or Sun conjunct Venus.
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justmeinadaze · 9 months ago
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Don't Be So Hard (Steddie X Plus Size You)
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"Don't be so hard on yourself The name of the game is humiliation, And thanks for your admiration. I never thought I'd say this: The way that we play has its confrontation, And guilt by association."
A/N: New version of these beings for me to try out. Thank you @bimbobaggins69 for the idea by just being amazing <3.
This take place 10 years after events in season 4 so about 1996.
Warnings: Older Dom (30s) Coach Steve Harrington/Older Dom (30s) Professor Eddie Munson & Young (20s) Fem Plus size Sub Student Y/N (whew! That's a mouth full lol), SMUT, spanking, choking, degrading, voyeurism, use of sir, FLUFF, Eddie and Steve have an established relationship. ANGST (because I'm me), reader is plus size and gets name called by the jocks (they call her names like piggy), one of them does assault her (pushes her and yells at her; brief), Steddie saves the day, mentions of reader staring in a play that makes her anxious due to her body.
This whole dynamic is technically angsty (which is why I love it muahaha).
Word Count: 8679
“I fucking hate schools.”, you grumble under your breath as you hit snooze on your alarm for the fifth time that morning. The beginning of your junior year spring semester at Hawkins University started today but the idea of getting out of bed sounded exhausting. In Hawkins, everyone was in everyone else’s business and being the bigger girl some of the jocks felt the need to butt in more than anyone else. 
“Hey Y/N. Did you put on more weight this summer? Those jeans look like they’re about to pop!”
“Should you be eating that, piggy? Maybe try a salad every now and then.”
You thought when you left high school, you wouldn’t have to deal with this crap anymore but unfortunately some of it followed you to college. 
When you finally made it to your first class it was right before it began so you could avoid any unwanted conversation. You weren’t so lucky.
“Heeeeeeey, Y/N.”, football star Martin Click cooed obnoxiously as he leaned towards you from his seat above yours. “I was hoping we’d have some classes together, piggy. I missed you over the summer. You couldn’t bother to dress up for me?”
“Oh, sorry Martin, if I had known we would be sharing a class I would have made myself uglier but unfortunately for me that’s impossible since I’m so fucking sexy. Maybe you can tutor me on how to be a sloppy asshole.”
The breathy laugh that echoed to your ears caught you off guard as you glanced up towards the front of the classroom and met the chocolate eyes of your new Literature & Writing professor. 
“I’m sorry.”, you whisper as red paints your face.
“No, no. No reason to be sorry. I thought it was a good comeback.”, he grinned making you blush even more. “Mr. Click, should I tell Coach Harrington that you’re more focused on ladies attire than my class or are we going to behave this semester?”
Rolling his eyes, Martin leaned back in his chair making the professor smugly smirk as he winked in your direction. 
“As I’m sure ya’ll are aware, I’m professor Munson and if you’re here because of my reputation then I will kindly ask you to leave. I’m not here to talk about my past or my family history.”
You had heard rumors about Eddie Munson and of course knew all about him being on the run back when you were little. You parents never let you leave the house or play outside for fear that the “satanic Hawkins killer” would snatch you up and make you his next victim. As you grew up and read more about what happened, it seemed less to you like he did anything at all and obviously the chief agreed because Mr. Munson was never tried or did any prison time. 
No, you weren’t interested in his past. You were interested in the things he could teach you. After overhearing one of his lectures, you were fascinated with the way he told a story and explained the material. He got so animated to an adorable degree and as a theater major you thought it would be fun to see how he interpreted literature while getting the final English credit you needed. 
When no one moved he smiled and began talking about usual first day things such as the syllabus and what to expect over the semester. After the class had ended and everyone left, you stayed behind and quietly made your way to his desk. 
“Hey, um, I’m sorry if I was rude or—”
“I didn’t think you were rude. If anything, he was and definitely needed to be put in his place.”, he interrupted without looking your way as he sorted through papers in front of him. “You’re Y/N, right?”
“Yes, sir. Y/N Y/L/N.”
“Yeah, I’ve seen some of the plays you were in on campus here. I dragged my friend to see A Midsummer Night’s Dream and you actually got him to pay attention.”, Mr. Munson smiled as he finally lifted his head to look your way. “You were very good.”
“Oh, um, thank you very much. That means a lot coming from you.” He tilts his head at your comment as blush fills your cheeks again. “I just meant I’ve seen some of your lectures before and you’re an amazing storyteller. You excite me, I mean you make me want to pay attention to, I mean… ok, let’s pretend I just left right after class and didn’t just embarrass myself.”
Hugging your books to your chest, you power walk out the door as his chuckle fills your ears. 
***
With a break between periods, you hastily headed for the gym after lunch to change and get out on to the track by the field. Contrary to popular belief, you were fairly athletic despite your size and enjoyed letting off steam as you pumped your legs as fast as they could take you.
As your music blared loudly in your ears, the feeling of eyes watching you grabbed your attention towards the bleachers where Coach Harrington was standing with his arms crossed and leaning to the side as Professor Munson balanced his arm on his shoulder, murmuring something to him as their eyes followed you. 
Trying to block them out, you continued to focus on the path in front of you but was blindsided when a football whizzed past your nose almost hitting you.
“Whoa! Sorry, piggy. Have to keep your eyes open around here.”, Martin laughs as you roll your eyes. 
Glancing their way, you noticed both men were standing straighter as if prepared to defend you if needed. You weren’t a weak little girl and for whatever reason you strongly felt like you needed to show them that. As you pick up the football one of the players lifts his hands running towards you as if expecting you to not be able to throw it but at the last minute you throw a perfect spiral to their coach who doesn’t even hesitate as he lifts his hands and catches it seamlessly from the air. 
“Well, shit, gentlemen. Looks like I have a new passer.”
“Oh, no thank you, Coach Harrington. If I ever played a sport it would be with a team that doesn’t suck.”
Again, Mr. Munson snicked through his teeth as the man he was leaning on flashed you a big grin. 
#############
That night you decided to run after hours, thinking you would be alone but were surprised when you saw Coach Harrington on the track. 
“Shit! Sorry, you scared the hell out of me.”, he nervously chuckled. 
“I’M sorry. I thought no one would be out here.”
“Yeah, normally there aren’t.”, he teased raising an eyebrow at you. “Well, don’t let me stop you.”
As he took off continuing to jog, you pushed your headphones on your head and started your run. After a couple of laps with you in your zone, your feet abruptly slipped out from under you as you tumbled forward onto the gravel.
“Whoa!”, Coach Harrington shouted in concern as he ran to your side and kneeled down. “Are you alright?”
“Ow. Yeah, I just…tripped. Fuck that hurt.”
“Let me see.” Without any hesitation, his hand gripped your leg and looked it over. “Oof, you may have a pretty good bruise there but you should be alright.” Rising to his feet, he extended his hand to you to help you up which you eagerly accepted while he gripped you tightly and led you towards the bleachers. “You must have been deep in thought because you passed me a couple of times and didn’t even turn your head.”
“I did? Yeah, I’m sorry. I just have some things on my mind.”
“No, I know what you mean. Eddie—Professor Munson told me what happened in his class. If any of those guys bother you again, please let me know. I’ll make them run laps or even sit them out of a game if I have to. Nothing scares these kids more than not being able to play.”
You knew of Steve Harrington mostly because of his parents. The Harrington’s were prominent members of the community and very well respected. In your high school there had been pictures of him from his days on the basketball and swim team when he was a student. 
After he graduated, other rumors began to circulate about him spending time with the “freaks of Hawkins” but who cares. Not you especially since you had been labeled a freak since elementary. 
“I, um, I hope you didn’t take offense to what I said. Your team doesn’t suck just…some of your players. I mean, not their playing ability just their personalities. FUCK, why can’t I talk today?”
His smile widens as he laughs from his gut making you don your own smile. 
Coach Harrington’s eyes meet yours for a moment before a controlled laugh escapes his lips.
“What, um, what were you listening to so loud that you didn’t hear me yelling for you to slow down?”
Giggling, you gesture towards your Walkman. 
“Just some CD I burned to get me pumped. Right now, it’s playing ‘Master of Puppets’ by Metallica. Have you heard that song?”  
Something dark flashes over his face before he awkwardly nods and gets up leaving you alone on the bleachers as you stare after him. 
***
“Are you fucking kidding me?”, you growl as you push on the girl’s locker room door to find it locked. “What is going on with me this semester?”
Glancing around and seeing no one, you brave the boy’s locker room, finding it open, assuming that in his weird state, maybe, Mr. Harrington forgot to lock up. As quickly as you could you showered and began to change into some comfy clothes. 
The sound of something hitting the wall nearby froze you in fear as you gaze scanned the area. 
No one nearby. It could be the janitor cleaning the coach’s office.
Quietly, you threw your things over your shoulder and tiptoed that way with the intention of ducking under the window of the area so you weren’t seen but the muffled sound of moaning had you pausing again. 
“Mmm…Steve…Steven. Wh-What’s wrong, baby? Talk to me.”
“Your student that you talk about…Y/N…she was listening to that song you played in the upside down. I just…it made me think of us…us finding you.”
“Hey. Hey, hey, sweetheart. It’s ok. I’m ok. I’m right here, Steve. You saved me.”
Peeking through the window, you saw their forehead’s pressed together as Eddie gently caressed his cheek with his thumbs. A small sigh left your lips when they began to kiss each other again. With a bit of needy force, Steve turned him around and pulled his back flush to his chest. Gently nibbling on his neck, he reached around and unbuckled Eddie’s pants, pushing them down to free his cock that he promptly began stroking. 
Fuck me he’s big. 
You practically drooled at the sight, licking your lips as your palm absently glided under your shirt to rub your tummy.
With his free hand, Steve sloppily yanked down his sweats making you moan as you watched him spit in his palm and rub it between Eddie’s cheeks before gradually guiding himself into his entrance. 
“Fuck, Steve. That’s it, baby.”
Clinging to each other tightly, Steve thrust his hips at a steady rhythm and you marveled at the sight as your fingers drifted into your own sweatpants and you began circling your clit.
“H-Harder, Steve, please.”
“Please.”, you whisper as you try to keep your eyes open and on them. 
“Like this, honey? Fuck you feel so good, Eddie. I love you.”
Arching his back, your professor craned his neck to kiss the man’s lips as he pumped into him as hard as he could without hurting him. 
“I love you to, baby. Shit, I’m going to cum. Cum with me, Steve.”
Nodding aggressively, he chased their highs until both men grunted and came. While they softly kissed each other your body trembled as you covered your mouth, trying to stifle your moans as the coil snapped. It wasn’t enough as both their heads turned meeting your eyes as you were coming down from cloud 9. 
No one moved as the three of you stared each other. 
Holding up his hands in surrender, Steve pulled out as Eddie straightened up, worry painting both their faces. 
“Y/N…”
Before they could do anything else, you turned and quickly ran out of the locker room.
##############
What the fuck was I thinking?! I shouldn’t have watched them. Two teachers in the MALE locker room while I was touching myself. Shit. I’m going to be expelled for sure. 
Sitting on the stage of your theater class, you focused on the script in front of you as you prepared for an audition your professor recommended. Mrs. Lilah always felt constrained by Hawkins when it came to material but this year she quiet literally said fuck them and decided to do Rocky Horror Picture Show. 
As you read through your lines for Magenta, a clearing throat caught your attention. 
“Hey Eddie!”, your theater teacher beamed as she waved at him and he smiled back before jumping onto the stage to sit beside you. He smelled strongly like cigarettes and a dash of cologne that had your head spinning as you continued to keep your eyes on the paper in front of you. 
“Hey Lilah. I hope I’m not disturbing anything. I just need to talk to Y/N here about an assignment real quick.”
“No problem. She does have her audition for Janet in a few minutes and I’m dying to see her interpretation.”
That caught your attention as your head swiveled her way. 
“I’m doing what now?”
“For Janet, honey. I think you’d be perfect. She’s a bit timid at first but comes out of her shell.”
“But…but…she’s in a bra for a good chunk of the play.”
“Yeah…does that make you uncomfortable?”
“Hm, yeah, Y/N, does people seeing your body in the shadows in an intimate way make you uncomfortable?”, Eddie murmured low enough so only you could hear. 
“Let’s just do the audition and if you prove me right, we can talk about the wardrobe, ok?”
Flashing her a timid smile, you turn to give your attention to your professor. 
“I’m sorry.”
“For what? Skipping my class this morning? Oh, you mean when you watched me and my boyfriend have sex in the boy’s locker room?”
“The girl’s one was locked and I needed to shower—”
“That explains why you were in the locker room but not why you were there watching. Are you going to run and tell all your little friends about how you saw the murderous freak fucking the pretty, rich football coach?”
“What? No. I would never—”
“Mhmm. Look how much will it take to keep your mouth shut?”
“Nothing. I don’t—”
“Please, Y/N! Everyone has a price and Steve doesn’t deserve to lose all he’s worked hard for. So, tell me—”
“Will you let me talk!?” Glancing around to make sure no one heard your outburst; you lower your voice as you continue. “I don’t want anything or any money. I won’t tell anyone. I genuinely don’t care about your private lives. I’m really sorry I watched. I shouldn’t have…I just…”
Your professor’s eyes focused intently on you as he waited for you to continue. 
“I was attracted. The way you two kiss and the way he holds you…no one’s ever been that way with me…” When your eyes dared to finally meet his, you expected anger but those gorgeous chocolate irises displayed a softness you appreciated. “I swear, Mr. Munson, I won’t tell anyone. Your secret is safe with me.”
Nodding, he jumped down from the stage before turning to face you again. 
“I think under the circumstances you can call me Eddie. Not in class but… I also think you should play Janet. You’re a very beautiful young lady. Don’t let any of these superficial idiots take away that lead role from you just because of how you look.”
#############
A couple of weeks had passed and nothing of note happened with school or your classes. You were cast as Janet, allowing Eddie’s advice to drive you as you maneuvered the role. Your professor and Coach Harrington had minimal contact with you but you always felt their eyes following you around. 
Tonight, you were studying in the Hawkins diner off campus. You preferred it here then the library after hours because not only could you munch on some delicious food but no one was usually there that you knew. 
As the bell above the door dinged, you glanced up from the novel Eddie had you guys reading to see said professor and his boyfriend entering the establishment and taking a seat. You couldn’t help but wonder how hard being out like this must be for them. They couldn’t share a booth or be flirty. They couldn’t hold hands or kiss, at least not visibly where people could see. You hated that for them since both seemed like good men. You wondered why they stayed behind here in this terrible little conservative town instead of moving anywhere else. 
Hoping to slip out unnoticed and allow them privacy this time, you gathered your things and placed some money on the table. 
“Is that my favorite piggy?”
You roll your eyes at the sound of Martin’s voice as you try to ignore him and head out the door. A hand abruptly grabs you but you slap it away. 
“Don’t touch me.”, you hiss. 
“Oh, come on, Y/N. It’s Saturday and we just left an awesome party. Can’t you and I get along for once?!” His friends around the table behind him snickered as a big devilish smile stretched across his face. 
“If you weren’t such a fucking dick maybe. Now leave me alone.”
As you storm out the front door to your car, something tugs your backpack, ripping it open as all your books and papers tumble to floor. Martin’s hand wraps around your throat and pushes you against the trunk of your car. 
“You will show some fucking respect especially in front of my friends.”
“Aw, did little Martin get his feelings hurt?”, you sass. “Didn’t realize you had any.” 
Your knee rises as you hit him in his stomach but he’s still faster as his palm reaches out to grab your shirt tugging you down hard onto the pavement.
Abruptly, someone grabs his own jacket collar and tosses him roughly away from you as Eddie quickly maneuvers around them both, kneeling to your level. 
“Are you ok, sweetheart? Can you stand?” Silently nodding, you take the hand he offers to you and rise to your feet. He notices immediately that your blouse is torn and without hesitation shimmies out of his leather jacket and places it around your shoulders. 
“Mr. Click, on Monday, you will see me in my office.”, Coach Harrington growled as he glared at the boy. 
“Oh, fuck you! That fat little whore pushed me into it!”
“HEY!”, he bellowed making you jump as your teacher rubbed your shoulders comfortingly. “I would advise you to stop speaking. You’re already in a lot of trouble.”
“Pfft, you think I’m scared of you, Steve Harrington?! Yeah, my parents told me all about you and the disappointment you became to Hawkins. You’re fucking pathetic! I’m surprised they even hired you to coach us let alone your friend the freak! I guess those satanic rituals DO fucking work.”
The man’s body language stiffened before he did that controlled chuckle you had heard before. 
“Alright, Martin, we can do this right now then. I was only going to suspend you but you know, since I’m so fucking pathetic I think I’ll just go all in. You’re off my team.”
“WHAT?!”
Turning around, he ignored the boy’s continued expletives as he faced you both. 
“Eddie, get her books and all her things. We’ll take her back to our house, if that’s ok with you.”, he asked pointedly in your direction. All you could do was nod and try to bend down to get your thing but the metalhead stopped you before descending to the concrete to collect your things. 
“YOU CAN’T DO THIS TO ME! YOU’LL REGRET THIS!”
“Take it up with the dean. Until then on Monday, I want your shit out of my locker room or else I will throw it in the garbage. Come on, guys.”
Coach Harrington opened the back seat door for you, startling you when he closed the door a bit too hard. 
***
When they parked outside of a home, neither moved as Eddie’s eyes scanned over his partner’s face.
“You ok, babe?”
His ringed fingers reached out to caress through his hair and in the rearview mirror you could see Steve close his eyes as he exhaled. 
“Yeah, I’m fine. Let’s get inside.”, he answered curtly as he came around and opened your door and you followed both men inside. You stood in their living room silently as they threw their keys down and Eddie disappeared down a hallway. 
When he came back, he handed you a t-shirt that read “Def Leopard: Tour of 88!”
“Go put this on and we can see about fixing your own.”
His eyes followed you as you entered their bedroom where the bathroom was located and shut the door. Removing your blouse, you could see a slight bruise forming where the strap of your backpack had been on your shoulder and some redness around your neck where Martin had grabbed you. Swallowing your pain at the sight, you put on the shirt they provided and folded his jacket, placing it nicely on the countertop.
Your eyes took in their fairly average bathroom, smirking slightly at the hair gel you imagined was Steve’s as Eddie’s hair was always wild even during class when he pulled it back. Both their colognes and bathroom products were side by side like any couples but the few things you knew about them had each personality standing out. Cigarettes were by the window near the bathtub where you imagined Eddie smoked as they took a bath together. On the floor by the shower, were some handheld barbells you imagined Steve used while Eddie took a shower or got ready so they could talk to each other about their days. 
Walking back out to their bedroom, you noticed a guitar against the wall and grinned at its slightly cheesy 80s aesthetic. You remembered once hearing that Eddie Munson used to be in a band but for the life of you couldn’t remember the name. You wondered if he still played. 
“Your student that you talk about…Y/N…she was listening to that song you played in the upside down. I just…it made me think of us…us finding you.”
What could he have meant by that…
Your gaze shifted to their dresser that had a vanity mirror attached with pictures taped to it. There were so many images of them together that made your smile widen but there were also photos of Steve with a young lady you remember seeing around Hawkins. She used to work at Family Video until a few years ago but you weren’t sure where she moved on to from there. Did you remember Steve there? No… you were pretty young though and focused on your own carefree life. 
There were pictures of Eddie with the Hellfire club. They were still active when you went to Hawkins High filled with a cool group of kids you hung out with from time to time. There were whispers of the man that created it but everyone in the club always said good things about the former Dungeon Master. 
They must have been in two different worlds in high school. 
What must have happened to bring them together?
“Steven, you need to calm down.”
The sound of Eddie’s voice caught your attention after something loud slammed in the kitchen. You tiptoed down their hallway and paused on the other side of the wall. 
“Fucking asshole kid, I swear to God.”
“Baby, it’s not the first time someone has said those things to us and it won’t be the last especially since we chose to stay here.”
“We didn’t exactly choose and that’s not why I’m upset.”
“Why then?”
“She…she seems like a nice girl.”
“She IS a nice girl.” Eddie sighs as he lowers his voice. “Steven, she’s a student and a lot younger than us.”
“Not a lot. Jesus, you make us sound ancient. She’s, what, how old you were when you graduated high school.”
“Hey, ok first off, rude.” They both giggle making you grin. “Second, again, she’s a student. She’s MY student. I could get in way more trouble than you.”
“Like that’s ever stopped you.”
“I swear, sweetheart, don’t we have enough chaos fucking hiding our relationship?”
“Oh, come on, Ed, you don’t like her?”
“I didn’t say that. I just… yeah, she’s beautiful and adorable and… fuck. We shouldn’t talk about this with her here.”
Collecting your bearings, you walk around the wall and knock on it lightly.
“Hey, there she is. I, uh, I fixed your backpack. Let me, um, see if I can salvage this top for you here.”, Eddie smiles as he takes it from your hands and heads for their couch. 
“I didn’t know you could sew.”
“Mhmm. I can’t like whip up a brand new outfit or anything but I can patch things together.”
“Are you alright? Do you need any Band-Aids or an ice pack?”, Steve asks from his place by the counter. 
“No, I’m ok. My throat is a bit sore but…” You don’t even finish your sentence before he’s turning around and grabbing an ice pack from the freezer, wrapping it in a rag, and sitting in front of you on their coffee table to place it on your neck. “Thank you. I like being choked but not like that or by that asshole.”
They both glance at each other as you blush. 
“Yeah, probably not a joke to make right now. Sorry.”
“You apologize a lot.”, Eddie says from behind you. 
“Sorry.” They laugh making you grin to yourself as you look down at your feet. “I hope I didn’t get you in trouble. I’m not…actively…trying to do that.”
“Oh, no worries, honey. Trust me. What is he going to say? ‘Coach Harrington kicked me off the team after I drunkenly assaulted a girl?’ I’m pretty sure the dean will side with me on that one.”
Your silence makes them nervous and they exchange another look. 
“What are you thinking about, Y/N?”
“I’m thinking about how I never expected Martin to do what he did. He’s been mean to me since freshman year but never aggressive like that.”
“You know that wasn’t your fault, right, princess?”
“Yeah, I know. I…I…” Unable to control them, the tears began to flow and a ring laced hand delicately reached for your shoulder, moving the things in his lap aside so he could hold you to his chest. Steve placed his own palm on your jeaned thigh and comfortingly rubbed against the material. 
Once again you were engulfed in the scent of Eddie’s cigarettes and cologne as his cheek rested on the top of your head. You couldn’t explain why but you felt safe here with their hands on you encased between them. 
It had been a few months since your last relationship and you could feel yourself dropping into that particular headspace the longer they comforted you. 
“I’m…I’m also thinking…about what I saw that night…in the locker room. How you two took care of each other…”
All movement on your body ceased as they even held their breathes. 
“H-How about we get you home, Y/N? I can give you this shirt after our next class.”
Eddie lightly pushed you to the side as he tried to stand but you hastily grabbed his arm stopping him. 
“I heard you. You said I was beautiful and sweet.”
As your little voice flowed through his ears, his eyes squeezed shut trying to keep control. 
“Y/N, maybe, he’s right. Maybe, we should get you home before—”
“Before what, Steve?” This was the first time you were using his name out loud and the notion sent tingles all through your body feeling like a little girl who misbehaved.
“Hey. You show him respect, little girl. That’s Mr. Harrington or sir.”, Eddie scolded in gruff tone.
“Edward…”
“No, Steven. Little girl wants to play with the grownups, then that’s how we will treat her. Now, we said, you’re going home. Grab your things and head towards the front door.”
“Why did you bring me back here, Mr. Munson? You could have taken me back to my dorm but you didn’t. Why?”
“Because people shouldn’t be seeing a professor drop off a student on campus.”
“But Steve said he was taking me to your house out loud to Martin.”
The man’s hand firmly came down on the side of your thigh making you yelp as you bit your bottom lip. 
“He said show me respect.”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Harrington.” Placing your hand on top of his, your thumb tenderly ran along his skin as you leaned against Eddie’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, Mr. Munson. Like I said…no one has ever taken care of me or looked out for me the way you two do with each other.”
You were slightly surprised when his fingers gently came around and brushed your hair away from your face. 
“We brought you back here because we thought you were safer with us here. After what he did, we thought that’s what you needed.”
“Am I not safe here?”, you whisper as you can’t help but rub your thighs together. 
“Y/N… Eddie and I have been through a lot. What you saw in my office isn’t always how we are when we’re intimate. We’re not always…soft.”
“But I promise you, princess, we are nothing like Martin. If you wanted to leave…right now…that’s ok. We can take you home or call you a cab if that makes you more comfortable.”
He was giving you an out; they both were. You could leave right now and the three of you could pretend this never happened. You could pretend that Steve’s large hand on your upper thigh wasn’t turning you on as you thought about how those long fingers would feel inside of you. You could pretend that Eddie’s touch wasn’t getting progressively slower as the pads of his own fingers traced your cheek making your pussy clench around nothing. You could pretend the notion of doing something you shouldn’t and being at the mercy of these two men’s wills didn’t drive you crazy. You could do that… 
Or…
“I don’t mind it not being soft, Mr. Harrington. I trust you and Mr. Munson.” Both men exchanged on final look of caution before your last sentence pushed caution to the wind. “Please, I need you.”
“I think since you saw us in vulnerable position we should get the same courtesy.”, Steve replied in a much huskier tone than before. Taking your hands in his, he pulled you to your feet and pushed the coffee table out of the way before taking the seat you had just been in. On impulse, Eddie leaned closer to him as the other boy wrapped his arm around his shoulder. 
“Go ahead, Y/N.”
As your eyes shifted between their heavy gazes, you lifted off the shirt he gave you, unbuttoned your pants, and shimmied them a bit clumsily down your legs.
You stood there waiting for more instruction as they continued to stare at your body. 
“Did you see our cocks?”
“Yes.”
Steve smirked as his boyfriend began to kiss his neck while his palm traveled along his chest down his stomach.
“Yes, what?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Remember that, Y/N. I don’t like repeating myself and Eddie is a lot nicer than I am in here.”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Harrington.”
Steve’s eyes fluttered when the metalhead’s palm grazed the bulge in his jeans. 
“Now, if you saw or cocks, then why are you stopping?”
“You said…I should be vulnerable, sir.”
Your small voice had them groaning as Eddie fumbled with the pretty boy’s belt almost desperately. 
“Fuck. Don’t move.” He commanded towards you as his head turned to capture his boyfriend’s lips. Lifting his hips, he helped Eddie blindly pull his jeans down just enough to free his length. As he started to lean over his lap, Steve hastily stopped him with a smile. “You don’t want to see her, honey?”
He chuckled as he focused his attention back on you. 
“Do you feel vulnerable, Y/N?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Hm. Not enough to not finger yourself out in the open though, huh? I mean at least you had pants on.”
“I-I-I wasn’t…I wasn’t thinking—”
“No, you weren’t. Take off the rest so we can see you.”
While doing what he said, you watched as Steve pushed down Eddie’s pants as well and both men kissed passionately in front of you as they stroked each other’s cocks. 
“Y/N, is there anything we should know? Anything we should avoid?”
“No, Mr. Munson.”, you answered, appreciating his soft tone as he asked his series of questions. 
“You said you liked being choked but is there anything physical we shouldn’t do?”, Eddie groaned out as Steve lifted off his shirt.
You heard his question but couldn’t form an answer as your eyes starred at the scars that littered his chest. They looked like whatever wound created them was deep, possibly life threatening. What could have happened to him?
“HEY!”, he barked making you jump. “He said he’s not as nice as me but that doesn’t mean I’m easy going! Now, answer the fucking question, little girl.”
“I’m sorry, sir. N-No, I don’t mind being hit or p-punished. Mr. Munson, what happened?”
As you started to step forward, both sets of brown eyes glared your way freezing you in place.
“Do you know the stop light system?”, Steve growled in a much rougher tone than you were prepared for. Nodding curtly after reciting it to them, he got up and grabbed your arm, sitting you between them. “Now, we do have some rules, Y/N. The first rule is the most important. DON’T ask about our scars.”
“Our?”
Steve slowly lifted off his own shirt and tossed it to the side. He didn’t have as many scars as Eddie but they were just as deep and looked similar. Whatever happened must have happened to both of them. 
“I’m so sorry you both went through…whatever hurt you.”, you coo as you reach out to graze your fingers down Eddie’s chest. 
The darkness in their eyes faltered slightly at your sincerity and the metalhead took your hand in his, tenderly kissing the back of it. 
“Second rule. You have to be vocal, Y/N. If at any point you feel uncomfortable, we need you to say red ok?”
“Yes, sir, Mr. Munson. “
“Good. Good girl.”
His praise made you giddy as you blush making him smile.
“Can I kiss you?”
“I have one more question, princess. Have you ever done anything like this before?”
“Yes and no.”
“Yeah, we’re going to need you to clarify that.”, Steve laughs. 
“I’ve done rough stuff with dominate partners before. I’ve never been with two men before.”
The way you said the word men had Eddie’s eyebrow quirking upward. 
“Are you trying to tell us you’ve only been with boys your age?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Why did you feel the need to tell us that?”
“Do we make you nervous?”, Steve asks as his fingers dance up your arm. 
“Yes b-but not because of you two, Mr. Harrington. I just wanted you to know j-just in case I’m not as ‘experienced’ as you both.”
Eddie’s palms cupped your cheeks as he brought your lips to his. You weren’t surprised by the nicotine that lingered there but you were by the tingle that ran through your body as his tongue caressed your own. When he pulled away you tried to lean forward for more but his grip held firm. 
“We weren’t expecting you to be, pretty girl. You’ve only ever been with these little boys but you’re about to be fucked by real men, sweetheart. Trust us, we know how to take care of you.”
You moaned at his promise, turning towards Steve to crash your lips with his. He was a much more determined kisser, his mouth and tongue sending that same shock wave through to your core. 
“Have you ever sucked a cock as big as mine?”, he panted against your lips.
As you shake your head, his fingers grab your throat just below your jaw as if purposely avoiding where Martin had hurt you. 
“What did I say? How do you answer us?”
“I’m sorry. No, sir, I’ve never sucked a dick as big as either of you.”
Sitting back, his palm moved to the back of your neck, guiding you down over his leaking tip as Eddie adjusted your body till you were on all fours for them. 
“Fuck me, Steve. She is so fucking wet. Her pussy is just tripping down her thighs.”
“Aw, you like being a bad girl, don’t you, honey?”
“Y-yes, Mr. Harrington. I like being a bad girl.”
“Open your mouth.” Doing as he directed, you quickly kissed his slit making him mewl before fully taking him between your awaiting lips. “Yes, oh my god. T-That’s a good girl.”
Eddie’s fingers glided through your folds causing your eyes to roll as you bobbed your head.
“Steve, baby, Jesus, she’s so fucking tight.”, the metalhead groaned as his palm came down hard on your ass. 
“Yeah, Y/N? Did that feel good? You like when your professor spanks you?”
Yanking your hair roughly he tugs you off of him as you continue to stroke him with your hand. 
“I didn’t hear that, little girl. What did you say?”
“Y-Yes, sir, I like when Mr. Munson spanks me.” 
At your response he spanks you again right as he guides two of his digits into your core. Gripping you tighter, Steve forces your mouth on him again and holds you still as he thrusts his hips allowing his cock to hit the back of your throat. 
“Good girl. That’s it, Y/N. Keep your throat open for me.”
Abruptly, Eddie swats his boyfriend’s hand and tugs on your shoulder, guiding you down the hallway to their bedroom and tossing you onto their bed. After completely removing the rest of his clothes, he climbs between your legs and runs his wide, flat tongue through your pussy up to your clit. 
“Oh shit.”, you moan as your back arches into the feeling before yelping when his palm smacks your cunt. 
“Watch your mouth, little girl.”
“I’m sorry, sir. I’m sorry.”
Steve chuckles as he climbs in beside you both placing his knees by your head as his fingers grip your hair again. 
“Can’t really blame her. I know how amazing your tongue feels. Then again, you may have some competition, babe, because her fucking mouth feels so good.”
Pride washes over you at his praise as you grip his cock and take him as far back as you can trying to continue to please him. 
“I-It’s ok, honey. We can train this little throat. As—fuck—as you know, Eddie’s a wonderful teacher.” His boyfriend tosses him a smirk as his tongue flicks faster against your bud. “Are you going to cum? Cum, Y/N. Cum all over his face.”
Your hips grinded against him as the man’s mouth wrapped around your bundle of nerves and he pushed two of his fingers rapidly inside of you as the sound of your arousal to fill the room. 
Steve backed away from you, allowing you to focus and breathe as your orgasm washed over you. As you came down from your high, Eddie lightly slapped between your legs making you jump and groan. 
“Sensitive. I like that.”
Tilting towards their bedside table, he paused as their eyes met. 
“Shit. I don’t have any condoms.”
“What?”, Steve almost wined as you tried to contain your smile at their desperate need for you.
“Steve, we’ve been together for almost 10 years. When was the last time we used a fucking condom?”, Eddie growled. 
“We’ve been talking about adding someone to our dynamic for a while now.”
“Yeah but I wasn’t prepared for it to be tonight with a fucking student!”
“Excuse me.”, you finally pipe up. “I’m on the pill. I can understand if you still don’t want to but…I’m safe. And like I said, I trust you.”
Both men exchange a glance and you can’t help but giggle up at them. 
“So how long were you going to wait before you said anything, huh?”
“Mr. Munson, you didn’t ask. I wanted to be a good girl and only speak when spoken to.”
They narrow their eyes playfully at you for a moment before Eddie grabs your jaw and tilts you till your face is level with his. 
“You’re not cute, little girl. That little snarky attitude may have worked on those pathetic boys you were with but you’re in the bed of real men now. Don’t hide things from us you think we should know. Do I make myself clear?”
“Y-Yes, sir. I’m—”
Steve’s hand cuts you off as he pushes you back against the mattress. 
“We know. You’re sorry.”
Taking hold of his shaft, Eddie taps himself against your pussy making you squirm as you open your legs wider for him. Grabbing your hips, he slides you closer and gradually guides himself into your dripping entrance.
“Fuuuuuck.”, he moaned as he slowly pumped his hips. “We are going to fucking ruin you for anyone else, little girl. Goddamn.”
“How does she feel, baby?”, Steve asks as he leaned towards him to lightly kiss his neck.
“S-So fucking tight, sweetheart, you have no idea. I want…”
“What do you want, Ed?”
“I wanna…fuck her into the fucking mattress.”
Your pussy fluttered around him at his words and his eyes that been closed shot open as he placed his palms on either side of you and started thrusting into you aggressively.
“You want that, you little whore. I can give that to you.”
Much softer than his partner, Steve turned your head and slide his cock back into your mouth that you eagerly sucked on relishing the taste of him. As he pounded into you, Eddie’s lips kissed along his boyfriend’s chest making the man groan louder as he ran his fingers through his hair. 
Bringing his lips to his own they passionately exchanged a kiss that had you mewling as the long-haired man rolled his hips hard hitting that soft spot inside you repeatedly. 
Eddie’s head tilted back as his jaw went slack and you couldn’t help but reach your hands up to run your nails down your chest. 
“I’m…I’m…please…”
Steve moved back as the metalhead grabbed your wrists and held them against the bed as his face fell beside your own. 
“You fucking ask me, Y/N. You beg us to let you cum. Shit. We have control in here.”, he whispers in your ear making your shudder underneath him. 
“P-Please, Mr. Munson. Can I cum? I want to cum on your cock, please.”
His hair tickles your face as he nods and the action of him tenderly kissing your cheek pushes you over the edge as the coil snaps. 
“Fuck, that’s it, pretty girl. Came so fucking hard on my dick. I’m going to fill you up, princess, ok?”
“Please…”, you whimper as he slams into you, chasing his high.
Your professor’s grunts filled your ear and you turned your head into the sound as he warmed your insides. As soon as he rolled off you, a hand took hold of your ankle and yanked you to the edge the bed. 
“Hey, hey, honey. No, no.”, Steve cooed with a hint of sarcasm as he lightly slapped your cheek. “Open your eyes, baby. What color are you at, Y/N?”
“Green.”
His massive palm slapped you a bit harder causing your eyes to fully open as you leaned up on your elbows. 
“Green, what?”
“Green, SIR!”
You’re suddenly turned on to your stomach as rough hands lift your ass in the air while another set takes hold of your wrists and pulls your top half down and forward. 
“Get rid of the attitude, Y/N. You think just because you came you’re allowed to be disrespectful?”, Eddie growls as Steve spanks your behind. “Now, answer him clearly without the tone.”
“Green, Mr. Harrington.”
As he ran his tip through your folds, you knew even after taking his partner, he was going to split you in half. 
“Fuck me.”, Steve moaned as he began pushing himself into you. 
Eddie’s head tilted to the side as he watched your face scrunch together. 
“You’re alright, sweetheart. Trust me, I know how hard he can be to take at first but it will feel good soon. I promise, baby.”, he soothed and kissed your lips. 
“F-Feels…feels good…now. Fuck.”
The man behind you smacks your ass at the curse, pressing further into your cunt till his hips finally connected with yours. 
“Still green, babe?”
“Yeeeees, sir.”
“Good.” Clinging to your waist, Steve pulled back till he was almost all the way out of pussy before roughly slamming back into you practically punching the air from your lungs.
“Oh my god!”
With a slanted smile, he pounded into you as Eddie watched from the side, sitting up on his knees to occasionally run his fingers down the man’s chest. 
“She feels really fucking good, right? Our young, new little toy.”
“Goddamn, I’m gonna fucking bust like a teenager.”
“Wait, pretty boy. You need to feel her cum. Her pussy fucking chokes your dick, I swear.”
“Fuck, Y/N, are you close, little girl?” When you didn’t answer, his hand reached around to grab you throat and lift your back to his chest. “Still coherent, you little slut? I asked you a question.”
“H-Harder, Mr. Harrington, please.”
As his forehead landed on your shoulder, he did what you asked till the bed began to jostle underneath you. A jolt of electricity shot through your body and you mewled as Eddie rubbed circles into your clit. 
You took their conversation as approval and your arm circle around Steve’s neck as you came. 
“Jesus fucking Christ!”, he grunted as he took hold of your chin and turned you so his lips could mingle with yours as he pumped into you a few more times before releasing his seed inside you. 
You were completely drained and slightly sore as he tried to delicately pullout of you while you waited for what to do next. Usually, the boys you were with did the minimal amount of aftercare, choosing to just cuddle with you which was fine. You were surprised, however, when Eddie informed you the bath was ready when you were. 
“For me?”
“Yeah, princess, come on. It will soothe your muscles.”, he murmured softly as he took your forearm and slowly walked you to the bathtub and guided you in. Your head remained lowered as you listened to him maneuver around the bathroom, sliding on some boxers before lighting a cigarette and placing himself on his knees beside you. 
Utilizing the washcloth, he cleaned you pausing when your hand suddenly grabbed his wrist as he attempted to clean between your legs. 
“I’m sorry. Just sore.”, you whispered as you let him go. 
Eddie’s eyes scanned you over and you heard him blow out some smoke from his lips as he put the cigarette down in a nearby ashtray. His fingers moved some of your hair back and he pressed his nose into your cheek while he continued to clean you. 
“It’s ok, sweetheart. You’re still doing really good for me. I know your little pussy hurts from how we stretched her open but we got you, pretty girl. You took us both so well.”
As his deep, comforting tone continued to whisper praises, you keened into the sound as you winced, trying not to grab him again.
“I know, I know. I’m almost done.”
Tilting your head, your lips found his, both of you getting lost in the feeling as he dropped the rag from his hand so he could cup your face and hold you closer. A throat clearing distracted you two as Steve entered the bathroom. 
“I, uh, I have some clothes for you here, Y/N, whenever you’re ready.”
Nodding, you allow Eddie to help you out and lead you in front of his partner who took a seat on the edge of the bed. His honey irises ran along your body, checking for extra care you may need that they inflicted but unlike your assault earlier the only mark they left was the slight reddening of their handprints on your behind. 
“How’s your throat? I tried not to grab you where—”
Your kisses startled him at first but after a few seconds his hand slithered tenderly behind your neck as he kissed you back. 
“I’m ok. Just sore…and tired.”, you reiterate as your heavy eye lids dropped. 
“Ok, honey.” Steve’s hands held you steady while Eddie dressed you in what smelled like their clothes as you swayed in his grasp. “You did so good for us. You deserve some sleep. Would you like me to carry you to the guest bedro—”
Both men watched with amusement as your shook your head before climbing over him and crawling under their covers. 
“I guess we can sleep in the—”
“Please don’t leave.”, you begged in a little girl voice that pierced their hearts. 
“Why does she keep interrupting me?”, Steve chuckles as he gets to his feet and yanks Eddie into his arms to kiss his lips. “She doesn’t do that with you. Or does she in class?”
At the word the metalhead became silent as he kissed his partner’s shoulder and crawled into the bed in front of you. His palm softly caressed your face and through your hair as Steve got in bed behind you.
“You’re worried.”
“Of course, I am and not just because she’s a student. That’s just the frosting on top of the cake that is our problem.”
“That sounds delicious.”
“Steven.”, Eddie scolds as they both smile. “She’s so much younger than we are.”
“10 years. Not much.”
“Not to mention the fact, that we are already hiding OUR relationship let alone another with a young, student. She deserves to be taken on dates and to live her life. She deserves to be seen not hidden.”
“So do you, honey.”
“Steve… we decided a long time ago to stay in Hawkins for a reason. We can’t be run out of town by these homophobic small, minded idiots. They’ve just barely started calming down when it comes to me and what happened in 86. And that’s another thing. What if…what if something happens? What if Vecna comes back or any other fucking monster? We can’t drag her into that.”
“Eddie, you’re over thinking again, but I see where you are coming from. Let’s…let’s take it one day at a time, ok? Who knows. She may wake up and decide this is all too much herself. She may not want to be with some…old, broken-down college professors slash coach.”
“Oh my god, baby.”, the long-haired boy chuckles as he throws his arm over his eyes. “You’re not broke down. We just have some wear and tear.”
Your palm reaching out and pulling Eddie closer as you fully folded into Steve silenced them. They relaxed into you as your professor kissed your forehead and your school’s coached nuzzled into your shoulder as they drifted off to sleep with you. 
##############
@corkadymu @lilaclazer @aol19 @nailbatanddungeon
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christhopersturniolo · 9 months ago
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୨ HOCKEY PROBLEMS ୧
summary: you have been having some problems in your relationship with Chris, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t loves you.
notes: this is my first time writing a fanfic, I've always wanted to create one since 2020. english isn't my first language, it's probably not very detailed and there might be some mistakes, so don't expect too much lol. but give me feedback tho, l'd love to know what you think!
warnings: sexual assault, cussing, fluff, about three thousand words I think.
୨୧
My relationship with my boyfriend Chris is not the best. Well, at least, not now.
Lately we’ve been arguing all day long over stupid things, like who gets the last slice of pizza, or who gets the last word in a discussion. And it always ends in the same way. Silent treatment, from both sides. But it's not like Chris or I enjoy it. Most nights, I hear him in the bathroom, where he spend hours in tears. It’s horrible and makes me feel like a piece of shit. Hearing him cry only adds to my own feelings of guilt.
And how do we make things up? Sex, over and over. He would fuck the attitude out of me if he had to.
Me and Chris made a pinky promise that I would never miss any of his Hockey games. And I never did, cause i know how much my presence is important to him. And especially cause we are always in good terms the days before any of his games, but not today, we just argued again about nothing, we haven't talked for the past two days.
Nick and Matt, Chris's brothers, usually text me and offer to pick me up for Chris's games, but this time, their texts never came. It’s like they knew how our relationship was going. Chris definitely told them something.
Now you see myself driving to the arena where he plays in, the game is about to start in 20 minutes, and with this traffic, I don’t know if I will be there in time.
Red sign for the past 5 minutes. I have cars in front of me, behind me and next to me. Fuck. I start getting anxious. My nerves are on edge. I bit my nails subconsciously, the habit I got from my dad. My leg starts shaking. I can’t mess up things even more, I gotta be there, I have to be there.
After what feels like an eternity stuck in traffic, the car in front of me finally starts moving. I let out a sigh of relief as I find a parking spot. After that, I enter the venue where Chris plays (Which wasn’t that big, cause he plays in a small team in our city.)
Before taking a seat I scan the crowd anxiously, searching for any familiar faces, no one, I can’t find anyone, not even his two brothers. “Fuck it” I mumble to myself and I just get in a seat with some random people next to me.
The game is about to start, the crowd is already cheering. The players are drinking water and getting ready to get in the rink. My eyes examine each one of them, looking for Chris, number three. He was with a serious face. ‘Are he’s eyes red?’ I think to myself as I narrow my eyes, my vision is bad as shit, but I can tell he’s eyes are all puffy. He has some big dark circles underneath his pretty blue eyes, he looks fucking exhausted, It was evident that he was crying just now.
The players finally begin to take to the ice, their skates gliding across the surface as they prepare for the game to begin.
On Chris's team, there are six talented players, used to winning every single game. However, this time, they were against a really good team. Chris hated that team. I hated that team. Well, not really the team, but one of the players: Cam, Cameron.
Cam is a completely fucking jerk, in college he would always try to hit on me, but I’ve never really went with his face, what would get on his nerves, especially when I started dating Chris. It went to the point where he would force me to have intimate things with him. He was the worst human alive, and I would do anything to see him dead.
FLASHBACK
I just had PE, finding myself alone in the girls locker room as I change clothes. The sound of the front door opening echoed, followed by quiet footsteps creeping up behind me, sending shivers down my spine. I try to ignore it.
As I slipped my shirt back on, I felt two hands grip the sides of my hips, and a warm breath brushed against my neck. I freeze for two seconds. I know this is not Chris. Without thinking, I instinctively push the hands away and I turn around quickly, only to come face to face with Cameron.
I glare at him, my heart racing with a mix of fear and anger. His smirk widens as he takes a step closer, invading my personal space. "What's the rush, sweetheart?" He whispers, his voice dripping with arrogance.
I take a step back feeling the wall behind me getting closer "What are you even doing here? Get the fuck away from me, Cameron" I say firmly, trying to sound like i’m not scared, but the reality is that I’m pissing my pants.
He chuckles like he’s making fun of me, his eyes glinting with malice. "Or what? You'll tell your precious boyfriend Chris?" He teases, moving closer until I can feel his breath on my face. grabbing my waist and pinning them against the wall. "Come on, babe, you know you want it as much as I do.." he affirms, leaning in to kiss me, touching his lips on mines.
“Get the fuck away!” I whisper yell as i try to punch him away but he grabs my wrists. I struggle against his hold, but his grip tightens, his fingers digging into my skin, definitely leaving red marks.
I don’t know what to do. I can’t move. I start panicking. This is my end.
Tears blur my vision as I plead "Cameron, stop!" My voice trembles with fear as he kisses me, his lips rough and demanding against mine. Each kiss is a painful reminder of my vulnerability. Each kiss feels like a violation. I feel dirty, tainted by his touch everywhere in my body. A wave of nausea churns in the pit of my stomach as I try to move him away from me.
"Stop fucking fighting, you are not getting away from me" He murmurs against my lips "You deserve this, you want this.” I try to move as he keeps pinning me "You think I don’t see the eyes you give me when I walk by? Huh slut?" He scoffs, his hot breath against my face. "You were begging for this."
“I wasn’t begging for any of this. I never gave him any ‘eyes,’ he’s fucking delusional!” I think to myself, but my words remain trapped in my throat, suffocated.
As his lips travel down to my neck, leaving a trail of unwanted kisses, I can’t do anything more than start crying and screaming, kicking my legs and arms.
I never went back to those lockers again.
END OF THE FLASHBACK
I hated him so fucking much, and Chris did even more. And now, they are about to compete against each other.
The moment Chris stepped onto the rink, I could see his eyes looking for someone known on the crowd. Desperately, I raised my hand and waved, hoping he would spot me. And he did. His face automatically softened into a gentle smile, erasing some of the tension that had been weighing on me, but he was still with his tired eyes.
The game started with an intensity that matched the tension in the air. Both teams were determined to win. Cameron eyes were burning with rage. At this point, they weren’t competing as a team, it wasn’t about the game, it was about their personal life.
As the game progressed, the rivalry between them two escalated. They began to argue on the ice, each vying for control of the puck with increasing aggression.
Chris managing to gain possession of the puck and score two goals in less than five minutes. But Cam, folded by his own anger, refused to back down. Without thinking he charged towards him at full speed. Cameron swung his stick, causing Chris to trip and fall hard onto the ice.
“What the fuck is he doing?” I say out loud as I get up from my seat to get a better view. Chris remained on the ground for what felt like an eternity, clearly in pain. Every player on the ice stopped and looked around confused without knowing what to do, but not Cameron. He keeps going with the puck in direction to make a goal, with a visible smile on his lips. But then he notices how everyone really stopped and he slows down too, annoyed, not showing any regret.
The thing is, my boyfriend is in a fetal position on the ice, unable to move and no one is doing anything about it? That’s not happening, not with Chris. Without a second thought, I get up from my seat, whispering apologies to those I brushed past as I made my way to the rink. Ignoring the stares and comments from the crowd, I stepped onto the ice, my focus solely on reaching Chris. I get in the rink. I don’t give a shit about who’s watching me.
Kneeling beside Chris. His nose was bleeding, he looked pale and disoriented. Gently, I placed a hand on his shoulder, my voice trembling with concern. "Chris" I whisper, my voice shaking "Are you okay? Please look at me..” I beg in a desperate tone
Chris struggled to respond, his voice barely above a whisper as he fought through the pain "Y-Yeah.. I’m fine.." His eyes half-closed in discomfort.
Suddenly, the sound of approaching footsteps drew my attention, and I glanced up to see some of the players from both teams getting around us, their expressions a mix of confusion and concern. Sensing the seriousness of the situation, a few of them hurried off to get help, while others stood by, unsure of what to do.
“Is he okay?” One of Chris's teammates asked as he knelt beside me, his voice filled with worry.
My anxiety spiked at the sight of Chris's condition, and I couldn't help but let my frustration show. "No, he’s not!" I replied, my voice unintentionally louder than intended. "Don’t you guys have nurses or some kind of medical staff here?!"
The teammate glanced back at me, his expression uncertain. "Yeah, I’m pretty sure they're on their way, don’t worry, he will be fine” He said sounding unsure.
I gently place Chris head on my lap, whispering sweet and calming words on his ear while we wait for someone help us. What I was saying was comforting me more than Chris.
Finally the arena's medical staff arrived, urging us to clear the area around Chris. They place him on a stretcher and wheeling him out of the rink. As they took Chris away, I followed closely behind them, my steps quickening to keep pace with their hurried movements. "Hey, excuse me," I called out to one of the workers, my voice tinged with desperation "Is it okay if I stay with him?" But they seemed way too focused on their task, ignoring me completely as they rushed Chris to a small emergency room they had here, leaving me behind on the hallway, my heart pounded with worry and frustration. But before I could even process what was happening, a familiar voice cut through the silence. I turn around,
Cameron.
"Look who it is" He says, his gaze fixated on me with an unsettling intensity. "Never thought I'd see you here, playing the concerned girlfriend” He chuckles.
My blood boiled at his words, the memories of his unwanted advances and aggressive behavior flooding back with nauseating clarity. "You're sick, Cameron." My voice trembling with rage “You can’t even stand losing a fucking game, you are insane.” I stay some seconds in silence before talking again "You better stay the hell away from me and Chris."
Cameron's smirk widened, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction as he reveled in my discomfort. "Or what?" He teases, taking a step closer "You gonna hit me? Huh?” He talks in a mocking way
I raised my hand and delivered a good slap on his left cheek, the sound echoing through the empty hallway. "I fucking hate you!" I yell, my voice trembling with rage as I glared at him with undisguised contempt.
Before Cameron could react, the sound of approaching footsteps coming in our attention, and I glanced up to see some of Chris's teammates rushing towards us, their expressions a mix of concern and confusion.
"What's going on here?" The same blonde guy with a four in his shirt asks, his voice tinged with urgency as he eyed Cameron with suspicion.
"Nothing," he muttered, attempting to regain his composure, "I was just.. checking on Chris. But the workers said we have to wait, and unfortunately, I've got somewhere else to be." Cameron lies, fuck he’s good at lying.
He gets closer to me, placing his hand on my shoulder, rubbing it gently. “I hope he gets better” He said in a fake nice tone, like he means it, I move his hand away from me, making him get slightly angry again, he leaves. I watch him go, feeling a sense of relief wash over me knowing that he was finally out of here.
Turning back to Chris's teammate, I say “Anyways..” I take a deep breath “I will just wait here until they say something”
The blonde one nods understanding. “Yeah, that sounds like a plan to me” He replies, his voice filled with sympathy “So, the game was canceled, and we got shit to do, so we can’t really wait here”
“Yeah sure, no problem, I understand” I respond, I try to sound so nice as he is sounding “I'll make sure Chris texts you guys after he leaves the room.”
Chris's teammate nodded appreciatively and they all began to leave to the same direction as Cameron. I sit into a chair next to the door where Chris was, my mind racing thinking about Chris.
Some good ten minutes after, one of the workers is leaving the room, I look up at him, catching his attention. “Excuse me,” I begin, my voice laced with anticipation “can I see Chris?”
He nods, offering a small smile. “Of course, go ahead” He replies kindly before disappearing down the hallway.
Before I enter the room, I take a few deep breaths to control my anxiety. Knocking gently on the door, I slowly open it. He was sitting in a long bench with elastic bandage on his ankle and wrist. Chris's eyes light up at the moment he sees me and a warm smile spreads across his face.
“Shit Chris, I just slapped Cameron in the face!” I say as I close the door behind me. Chris immediately starts laughing. his laugh is contagious. I sit down next to him. “You did not” He keeps laughing
“What’s so funny? I’m being serious” I chuckle, feeling the tension ease from my mind as Chris's laughter fills the room.
"I'm sorry, babe" he says between laughs "But when was that?”
“Literally like fifteen minutes ago! Gosh he’s so fucking annoying! And did you see the way he literally made you fall on purpose? I could break his face right now” I say in a dramatic tone, making him laugh even more.
“Anyways he doesn’t matter..” I look around thinking about what to say “So what did the nurses say?”
Chris's laughter subsides as he leans back against the bench, his expression growing more serious “Nothing much.. I just sprained my foot and my wrist, but nothing much”
“Nothing much?!” I say slightly shocked with his words.
Chris chuckles softly, shaking his head at my reaction. "Okay, maybe it's a bit more than 'nothing much,' but I'll survive" He says with a reassuring smile, though I can see the pain behind his eyes.
I gently reach his injured hand, my thumb tracing comforting circles on the back of his hand. "I'm just glad it's nothing too serious," I say softly, my voice filled with genuine concern. "But still, I can't believe Cameron did that to you! He's such a pussy!" My last sentence makes Chris laugh again.
As I watch him, a sense of relief washes over me, knowing that despite everything, we are still able to find humor in the situation.
Some minutes talking until the silence fills back the room. We are definitely both thinking about the argument we had days ago, cause we didn’t talked since.
“I.. I wasn’t expecting for you to watch the game today” Chris says slightly looking down.
I stay in silence for some seconds “Listen, Chris" I begin, my voice soft but determined "About the arguments we've been having lately.. I know things haven't been the best.. But..” I sigh “But I still care about you, and I always will.”
Chris looks up at me, his eyes softening with emotion as he listens to my words. "I care about you too" He says, his voice filled with sincerity. "I hate that we've been arguing so much, especially over stupid shit.. I just.. I don't want to lose you.”
A small smile tugs at the corners of my lips as I reach out to gently cup his cheek. "You're not going to lose me, Chris." I assure him. My thumb brushing over his skin affectionately.
He gently buries his face on the crook of my neck, I lay my chin on the top of his head, and I wrap my arms around him, holding him close.
"I'm sorry for everything," Chris murmurs against my skin. "I don't want us to keep fighting like this."
Now I run my fingers through his hair, feeling a sense of peace settle over us. "I'm sorry too.." My voice sounding like a whisper. "Let's try to work through this together, okay?" He nods softly.
I kiss his head “I love you.”
“I love you too.” He answers quietly.
୨୧
hey, this is the end! i hope you have enjoyed it, if u saw any miss spelling or anything tell me in the comments, please.
also, i think it got kinda confusing cause i was using words on the past and in the present, but idk 😭😭
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frogchiro · 1 year ago
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oh my gosh kin (is it okay if i call you that ? apology in advance if you mind i won’t again in the future rambles) what you said abt könig and his mate living in a cabin in the woods… him thinking with his primal instinct… him liking to walk around the cabin bare… oh my gosh i just felt a shudder down my spine 😭😭 like… me myself did it a few times because i was putting back doing my laundry (lol college student problems) and ended up having to sleep bare for a night bcs i didn’t have any nightie left and it makes you soo sensitive down there and… imagining that with könig… *faints* I NEED TO BE HIS CABIN PRINCESS
Ofc you can call me Kin, love!! Don't apologize please <33
Also if you like more content like this PLEASE check out @kneelingshadowsalome and her blog!! She has been a huge inspiration for me and a eye opener, not to mention that she writes König like no one and her fic "Fatum nos iungebit" is literally something else, I'm a humble little writer next to her talent ;;
And yes, König is just shameless like that :(( But truth is, he doesn't see anything wrong with it! It's his body and he loves it and he's damn proud of it! He might have been bullied mercilessly when he was a teen and his puberty and growth spurt got him to be a social pariah all through his school years, even in the military as a young man it was still humiliating for König to be told he can't be a sniper because he's just too large and fidgety due to his anxious movements.
But the thing is, as he got older and more comfortable in his body he realized that it was specifically his body which got him through all the battles. It was his formidable strength and size that made him a feared soldier, a colonel, and once he met you, KorTac's new hackergirl, his body was the thing he could use to protect and provide for you <3
It can get terribly cold in the Alps, especially now that the colder month are setting in and since König is a literal human radiator he will use it anytime you're whining that you're cold to warm you up :(( He will proudly go around the cabin naked, his powerful body on show and he's not subtle about it at all! I imagine him not being ashamed at all to show you his hard, leaky cock and whine at you that it's all for you, all his fertile, potent seed is for you so please let him stuff it all nice and deep in you, not so secretly hoping that it will result with his offspring being born next spring :((
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theveryworstthing · 10 months ago
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I'm Alive
I posted this on patreon so I might as well post it again here. Hopefully current and past patrons see this as well as people who have just been generally curious about where I've been.
I'm very sorry for not being around and I'm very grateful to those who stuck around. To those who didn't, I get it and I truly appreciate you passing through. 
Last year and the beginning of this year have been pretty bad. Some of you might have heard about my grandma's death and sadly, she was just the first of the family losses in the time I've been gone. There was also a friend's death discovery, my parents' health tanking, my friends Going Through It, and my own physical/mental problems. I didn't want to talk to the internet about these things because they were/are very overwhelming and private and tbh I used all my energy to help with the household and make sure work got turned in on time. When I had spare time after dealing with the near constant disasters, I didn't really feel like interacting with the internet at all beyond using it as a way to talk to far away friends (mostly to give them the thumbs up that i was alive) or watch/read things when my brain was less scrambled. Social media was an absolute no go and I didn't have any non-work art to post so I just kind of mentally crawled under the porch to die lol. 
I only drew work related things for months due to extreme burnout and it took me almost a month off after my last job to remember how to create again. I couldn't draw or write, it was kinda like art block except it was more like nothing was there at all? It's hard to explain. 
Things are still happening but I need to get back in the saddle eventually so here I am. 
I'm going to post the little art I did in June and all the sketches I did in January when I re-learned how to draw for myself. Again, I'm so sorry for being away without saying anything and I'm grateful to whoever threw me a buck, or even just casually enjoyed my art. Leaving like I did was really irresponsible and there's no excuse for not at least making a post about all of this sooner.  Every month I got a patreon payment was another wave of guilt because I literally couldn't give y'all anything but at the same time that money was letting me book flights to funerals and keeping my mom comfortable while she recovered from surgery right after I spent a lot of my savings in 2022 trying to fight my late cat's cancer. And then not posting about what was going on made me more anxious as time went on because there was more guilt every month so I felt like I needed to come back with a bunch of art and energy and good reasons and it was just. A Mess. 
But anyway.
I'm alive, I'm back. The Horrors persist, but so do I.
Thank you for your patience.
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mxstellatayte · 3 months ago
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okay this is so vague but a something for lewis based off the song pretty please by dutch melrose ?
I LOVE DUTCH MELROSE OMG I ABSOLUTELY CAN. also this one is dedicated my simply simply lovely bestie and horny ride-or-die (not like that) pookie @vivi-81 who has recently converted to being a lewis hoe <3 love you bestie
this fic is multiple chapters because i couldn't help myself! writing this dynamic is really really fun and i'm going to do my best to finish the fic by 15 september, but here is a teaser of the first chapter and the release schedule/masterlist!
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this fic spans literal years. prepare yourselves yall because you're in for a WILD ride lol
teaser (this post): 4 september chapter 1: 8 september (🌻/🥀) chapter 2: 22 september (🌻/🪷) chapter 3: 8 november (🌻/🪷)
teaser below the cut!
the conversation continues easily as the two of you finish your breakfast, then, as you begin to prepare yourself to stand and leave, he stops you. "actually, there's one last thing i wanted to do before we went on camera."
your head tilts in confusion as you set your signature lipstick back in your bag, a deep red balm that you've used since you started working at vogue. it's become your trademark product, and almost everyone in the office knows exactly which one you use. "do i need to be worried, lewis?"
"no, not at all! it's this," he says, and your eyebrows rise in complete and utter shock when he pulls out a small box wrapped in white paper and a crimson bow wrapped around it all. "i wanted to get you a gift as a way of saying thank you for all the curveball questions you've thrown at me this year." your hands shake as you take the box from him, and you already know exactly which brand it is. cartier. sure, you've written pieces about their timeless looks and elegant aesthetics, and owning a piece of their jewelry has always been a dream of yours, but it's always been just that: a dream.
"lewis, i can't accept this. i- i'm honestly at a loss for words. seriously, no." you can't help but flush at how he's looking at you, those annoyingly beautiful eyes of his and the stupidly perfect crow's feet that only show up when he really smiles- when he smiles the way he is now. gods, amelia was right. you really are down bad for the driver.
"please, just open it up. if you don't like it, i'll take it back and you can choose something you prefer." he nudges the box towards you once more, and the crisp wax seal that sits on top of the paper is incredibly enticing.
"are you serious?" a part of you wants to think that this is some sick joke, that there's cameras on you and it's all going up on one of those prank channels on youtube. a much, much bigger part of you believes lewis, though. that is the part of you that takes the box between your shaking hands, carefully pops open the wax seal, nimbly unties the beautiful ribbon, and gently unfolds the pure white paper. when you finally open the box, you gasp, tears threatening to well in your eyes. "lewis..."
"do you like it?" his voice sounds anxious and hopeful, and you can't help but realize how much thought he'd put into this gift. when you'd invited him into your office to review some photos that were to go into an article in the next vogue issue a few months prior, he'd seen the vision board on your wall and asked about it. bashfully, you had explained to him that it was a silly idea you had when you graduated from uni with your friends- each of you made one, cutting and pasting photos from pinterest, magazines, newspapers, and anything you could find, assembling your dreams in a mishmash of colors and ideas. one of your dreams on the board had been to own this exact necklace- the cartier juste un clou necklace in white gold. the fourteen diamonds set in the precious metal glitter back at you, and you can't help but smile.
"i love it, lewis. thank you so much." he visibly relaxes, his shoulders loosening and the crease between his eyebrows disappearing.
"i'm glad. here, turn around. let me put it on you?" you happily oblige, lifting your hair out of the way after you stand so that he can fasten the delicate clasp over your spine.
it's safe to say that both his and your fans noticed the necklace hanging between your collarbones, sitting just below the star necklace you wear daily on top of your dark grey high-collared shirt. you try your best not to look at the comments on the videos of your interviews, but amelia had shown you one that day after the unedited interview went up online.
"are they dating or something? i can't get over how lewis looks at her."
taglist: @pear-1206 @vivi-81
join my taglist here!
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aryxchse · 8 months ago
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hello!
i see ur requests are open so i have one (potentially) if ur willing to write it!!
yk how we get some glimpses into a dark percy jackson in the HoO series when he’s protecting annabeth… what if we got some of that for jason grace? potentially like the reader, she’s threatened by a minor god or monster or anything, so jason kinda goes unhinged? maybe like, he takes the air out of the opposing party’s lungs or anything else kinda unhinged?
i hope any of this makes sense lol thank uuuuu
🫶🫶🫶
dangerous storms / jason grace x female! reader.
a / n : I WAS THINKING THE EXACT SAME THING BECAUSE WHY THIS MAN HASN'T BEND SOMEONES OXYGEN ALREADY???
warnings : jason grace's angry self, airbending type of shit, cursing, DANGEROUS JASON I REPEAT DANGEROUS JASON!!
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jason grace was a calm man.
he was rational, he would think before he act and he never made a move with his feelings. call it him being roman, or his father being literally the king of the gods, or maybe him growing up with a wolf raising him. jason grace was always the type to show his powers through strategic thinking.
well, everyone has boundries right?
he had a thin line in between destroying one thing or everything when it camed to you. if you're fine, then no one has to fear for anything. if you're okay, safe and healthy, no one has to panic.
but if it's the other way, than everyone should pray. even the non-believers. because jason grace can be scary and intimidating when he wants to. and he's so damn good at it.
things weren't supposed to go this way. you weren't supposed to get kidnapped by some giant. the plan wasn't this way, then why, why we're you in danger?
jason stopped being rational. his brain only said 'why, why, why' for like, an hour now. jason wasn't thinking straight. jason wasn't thinking.
"jason, we're gonna save her," piper tried to charmspeak him, but it didn't worked. the girl who put gaia back in sleep, couldn't calm down the son of jupiter.
percy jackson, who was feared by most monsters, demigods and even gods, was afraid how jason acted at the moment. but he didn't judged, he knew he would act the exact same way if something happened to annabeth. which, he did.
he was the only one who would go down with him if he asked. boundries we're boundries, and percy knew that very well.
"jason, we can make a plan." piper tried again. she was trying from the moment they got you. but it wasn't working and she started to get anxious.
"yeah, man. she's strong, she could be on her way back here even-" leo tried his best too. he couldn't recognise his best friend right now. he should've been like percy, who wasn't judging jason's madness and ready to go down with him. but he couldn't—it was like leo meeting jason for the first time, again.
"i already have a fucking plan." jason snapped, but he was quiet. which, it didn't help with the gang's fear. "and you guys are not involved."
"you sure?" percy asked, putting a hand on his shoulder. "my hands been itchy these days, and riptide is no better."
jason wanted to smile, but his situation didn't allowed. instead, he softened his gaze, just a bit. "thanks, but i'll handle it myself. it's my war now."
percy nodded, giving a look at the team. 'if someone wants to stop him, they have to go through me.'
"go get em', tiger." he joked. and jason flied away, not answering.
‎ ⚡️
you would fight for your life if you weren't hanging up by the chains on your wrists. your feet we're dangling in the air, and arms hurting from carrying all your weight. the sick giants put some fancy greek dress on you, making your hair prettier while you were unconscious.
the giant fucking fell in love with you, and it certainly did not liked jason.
jason. we're was he? what happened to him?
well, you we're about to find out.
"oh dear," the ugly beast purred, his big hands finding your tiny body. you disgusted, squirming under his touch to get away. but it was no use.
"you'll be all mine once i make the potion." he rambled, drool on his chin that showed you how hungry he was for you.
"in your fucking dreams." you spat, eyes shooting daggers. you we're jason's girl, and your own person, most importantly. "i'm already taken."
the giant growled, mixing the sound with his sick laugh. "that jupiter boy? he got nothing compared to me sweetheart!" he yelled and his voice echoed through the big cave. where we're you, even? "he has to kill me to get you!"
"be careful what you wish for." the sound made you melt instantly. how was he able to find you? well, you didn't cared to be honest. he was here.
jason's eyes we're nothing like before. it was like his own eyes had their storms and thunders. one part of you we're amazed, while the other got scared. you knew he wouldn't even touch you if it ever hurt you, but you we're scared for him. not from him. for him doing something he'll regret for the rest of his life in order to protect you.
but, jason seemed to not give a damn.
"you tiny little demigod! you have no chance against me, you don't even have a god next to you to kill me!" he yelled, leaving you dangling in the air again. you wanted to call jason's name, but your voice muffled through the lightning.
"i don't fucking need a god," jason hissed, taking position. "i'll send you tartarus myself."
it all happened quickly. jason was so fast, unlike the big giant trying to capture and kill him. he was like a lightning himself, moving in light speed. there was a blonde thing moving, and you couldn't understand if it was his hair or sword. also there was little lightning sparkles that helped you figure him better.
then, the next thing you knew, jason was on top of the beast's face. he quickly called a lightning before stabbing his sword into the giants eye. it growled, but didn't falled.
"this is what you take for hurting my girl. my loved ones." jason said, his free hand going up in the air. you thought he was gonna make the giant eat some lightning, but it didn't go that way.
"remember my name in tartarus," he flied up again, taking a large air with him. the beast suddenly started to choke, holding it's neck desperately. "and make sure your friends does too."
it was the last thing giant heard before falling down, his oxygen flying in the air and dissapearing. jason immediatly flied towards you, cutting your chainst and holding you by the waist before you fall.
"jason," you breathed out, crying. you couldn't believe what you just have witnesses, but you figured it was the best to not mention. you we're happy that you we're safe now, in his arms.
"baby," he panted, hugging you so tight. you guys slowly landed on the ground, jason still clinging on you. "thank gods you're alive."
"i got scared," you admitted. normally, you would rather die than admit someone you're scare. but it was your jason, who could you tell if you're not gonna tell him? "he was gonna- jason, he was gonna make me one of them."
"shh baby it's okay," he cupped your face, his own tears matching you. but he had a smile, a smile that appeared once you we're in his arms. "i'm here. no one's touching you ever again okay? i'm here." he gently wiped your tears away, kissing you after.
you relaxed the moment your lips met, but it wasn't very long until you both heard footsteps again. jason quickly picked you up in bridal style, flying away from the little crack of the cave.
later that day, you both layed together in his quarters at argo ii. everyone decided that they shouldn't ask questions, like they didn't asked percy and annabeth after they got back from the tartarus.
even coach hedge let you snuggle eachother, because he saw how hurt jason was. he needed you for his own sake, to stay sane.
jason was the child of storm after all, he knew how to be scary when he wanted to. he kept it all inside when you we're near and safe. but if something slightly happened to you, he knew how to show them real power.
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qin-qin16 · 3 months ago
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Wonder what it would feel like to have a soul bond with Ut sans someday, like- the fact that he trust someone enough to actually considering doing that is so wholesome.
Kinda wanna see how would he act when he realized he want to make a soul bond with reader, would he doubt himself? Would he just act on it? Would he just reassuring himself that maybe now is not the perfect time yet? There's just so many questions about how would he act on the situation makes me almost questioning myself lol.
I swear I love him so bad I wanna give him a smooch until can't think of the surrounding fiwhdlaizi2dnsoxgwxjayx
cw.: Sans x Reader, gn!reader, thoughts about soul bond, he is just a bit shy and anxious, fluff…
note: I didn't know if you just wanted my opinion or a oneshot, so I decided to write a little scene about it, hope you like it :D and I just realized that I never write for him before! Poor UT Sans.
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He was always lazy — at work, with his puns, and even in his relationship with you -, but you didn’t seem to mind it. It had a certain domestic charm in a way.
However, he was being a little selfish in wanting a part of yourself just for him — a bit of your soul to bond with his forever. Yet, how could he express this to you? Do you even understand how precious and intimate this is?
Sans didn’t remember seeing anything like that in human culture; the closest comparison was marriage, but even that didn’t quite match the depth of soul bonding - and was unnecessarily expensive too. 
He tilts his head down, weary from thinking so hard about this. His weight seems to sink into the old couch, still tense with all the little engines working in his mind. You love him, right? So why the hesitation? Why is he so worried about your reaction? Is he afraid you might reject him?
No, you would never reject it — at least, not in the harsh way he imagined. You were kind and considerate, not someone who would cruelly laugh at his words.
“See? I told you I could match your lazy style!” He lifts his skull to you, seeing your figure appear in the doorway of your shared room — wearing one of his old blue coats and a black-stained shirt underneath.
Your proud smile in such a silly conquest made his own widen, finding your effort to amuse him funny.
“Well, I guess I’m not the only lazy bones around now.” He couldn’t resist the chuckle that escaped through his teeth when you snickered.
I can think about that later, Sans thinks as you come closer, your lips now pressed together but still showing traces of the wide smile from before.
However, he knows he can’t be lazy about this — especially when his own soul cries out whenever you're far away. I can think about that later, he repeats in his mind as he wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you close to him again.
For now, he is content with the domestic life you share, mostly because he can almost feel your soul’s joyful rhythm against his chest whenever you’re in his arms.
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fushitoru · 1 month ago
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Hii lovely! I'm a very anxious person, so I'm so sorry if I come across as awkward in any way shape or form, I tend to be more of a lurker, but I'm trying to get better at interacting!!
First of all, your Bridgerton fic is??? SO?? GOOD??? The way you portray all the characters, the language, the settings, everything is just absolutely chef's kiss!! When I watched season 3 this spring I was sat there thinking about how good Gojo would be in the setting, so cue my excitement once I found your fic lmfaoo
ALSO?! Spider-man Gojo?? Academic rivals to lovers??? I would literally give my soul for that. Spidey is my all time favourite superhero and it's one of my favourite tropes sob SUPER excited to read it once you get it done!! <3
You write so so so beautifully and you (among a few others) make me actually feel like getting my finger out of my arse and write myself LOL But until then, have some art of Bridgerton Gojo? Just a sketch for now, and I couldn't for the life of me decide on hairstyle, so uhh, have both I guess??(+ two slightly different expressions lmfao)
I also just want to mention, please make sure to not pressure yourself too hard with writing and take everything at your own pace!! I (among others, I'm sure) would wait for however long you need to finish up these lovely works of yours!!
(I'm so sorry if these ever get super long, I'm a big time yapper, which is ironic for an anxious person loool)
Muuuch love<33
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OMG HI BB!!!!! thank you so much for interacting with me, even though it's out of your comfort zone :') plsplspls don't worry about being too awkward or anything, i literally was smiling like an idiot while reading ur ask!!
and AHHH thank you so much!!! it's so funny that you say you thought that while watching season three because it was actually that season that made me want to write this series. glad to be of service <3
AHHH i'm also really excited to post it. i'm not done but im sooooo excited to finish it and have really been enjoying the process because spiderman is also one of my fav troupes + i feel like i've been able to write it in my OWN voice. super super excited for that <3
OH MY GOD. YOU DRAW SO BEAUTIFULLY??? I LOVE THIS SKETCH. i honestly really like both hairstyles and expressions you drew them so well 😭 i definitely imagine his hairstyle as the one on the left while im writing. everything from the outfit to pose you drew SO WELL (im in LOVE with the jacket as well as the shoes) he looks so BOUGIE and so TALL im literally going to climb him. and im ngl the expression the right seems so much like his sassy self, especially when he's making fun of someone while his expression on the left i interpret as something a bit more unfiltered, when he's more genuine. god you are so talented, literally captured the vibes.
AND ILY!!! no matter how long these asks are i will read them pls bring forth the yap. literally squealed while reading this, ilysm. thank you SO MUCH for drawing bridgerton!gojo im so honored 🫶🫶🫶
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silentglassbreak · 4 months ago
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Fragmented
Noah Sebastian x OFC
I’M BACK BABY.
You didn’t actually think I wasn’t going to write Noah and Leena’s wedding, did you?! What kind of monster do you think I am?? LOL I hope you enjoy.
Taglist: @flowery-mess @lma1986 @myownthoughts12 @poisongirl616 @missduffsblog @reidsblessing @malerieee @jilliemiw86 @thisbicc @xx-like-a-villian-xx @diabolicdiatonics
Epilogue
Who decides what a flower is named? Who looked at a flower and said ‘rose’, or ‘tulip’, or ‘daisy’? Whoever was in charge of that was a strange individual.
These thoughts ran through my mind as I stared at a bundle of black pansies. Thats what I mean; who the fuck named these flowers?!
It was easier to think about that, than feeling the pitting fear in my gut. The last six months had been dream-like. Leena agreeing to marry me, and being over the moon and showing her ring off to everyone. She had been so busy during this time, planning and preparing for Laura to have the baby (which she did last month), I felt as though I only saw her in blurs.
She was always running, but what made it acceptable was that she was no longer running away from me. When the days finally relaxed, that’s when she found her way home, into bed, where no one else had her attention but me. She spent her free time gushing about the wedding plans, and making sure everything was perfect.
She had near complete creative control over the wedding, given that was her day anyway. I just wanted full planning control over the honeymoon. She had hesitantly agreed, but I knew she wouldn’t be disappointed.
We would spend a week in a cabin in Denali, AK, during the season where there is just enough sunshine to melt the snow. We would do whatever she wanted while we were there, but the cabin would be fully stocked in case we didn’t plan to leave. Isolated. Off the grid. A whole week, buried in the woods with her. Hiding from the rest of the world.
It sounded surreal. Like the best case scenario I could ever dream of.
Addie would stay with her Dad for the week in Seattle. The only part I had to really play was completed and set, so I felt a small lift of relief.
That is, until I realized it wasn’t the only part I still had to play.
There were no second thoughts or concerns. My feet were as warm as they could possibly be, and everyone knew that. I wavered none.
Mileena was my endgame. She was everything I would ever need. The woman had me so far under a spell of need and desire - pure unfiltered love and devotion. It was supernatural. A phenomenon very few get to experience in their lifetime. I would do whatever I could to ensure she was mine until our last breaths.
My nerves, however, persisted through the excitement and set in a deep-rooted anxiety. What if I screwed up? What if I still wasn’t good enough? What if she realized that a pathetic, unstable, foolish wretch like myself had captured her light, and ran?
I’m no fool; I know I’m a good man. I just know that she’s better, and that’s terrifying.
I was pulled from my thoughts when a large hand clapped me on the shoulder.
“You alright over here, mate?” I turned to see the long, dark-haired Brit staring at me, a contagious smile on his face.
It was ironic, given that I was once foolish enough to be concerned and jealous of him.
“Hey Oli.” I gave him a calm smile. “I’m good, just a little anxious.”
He nodded, his eyes crinkling at the edges.
“Well, fuck yeah you should be! You’re getting married!”
Letting out a hard breath, my eyes glanced around the room. People were filing into their seats and stopping to say hello to me and the guys, who were properly lined up behind me.
I looked back at Oliver, taking note of his black, jeweled suit. “I’m glad you came, man.”
He wrapped an arm around my shoulders, pulling me into his side.
“I wouldn’t miss it, brother. You and Mileena are the closest example of real love I’ve seen in a while. You’re a lucky man.”
This made my teeth show with how wide my smile stretched. “You’re absolutely right.”
“I’ll see you after the ceremony, alright? Just breathe, remember your lines, and cry if you fucking can, man. They love that shit.”
I cackled, slapping his arm. “Will do.”
-
Every passing second was painful. We were lined up, ready and willing as ever to witness her show her face. My palms were dampening at an alarming rate, and I continued to swipe them across the thigh of my tuxedo.
“Calm down, Noah. It’s almost time.” Nick’s voice directly behind me whispered, and I felt the lump in my throat form. “You’ve got this.”
My eyes looked down at my shoes, shiny and black, exactly how they should be. The carpet I stood on was a deep crimson, off-setting the white accented patterns everywhere.
The first notes began to play, and my eyes squeezed shut.
This was it. This was where we finished it. This was forever.
First, Laura came down, Addison’s small body in her arms. Her beautiful, tiny black dress flowed, her hair braided and adorned with deep red roses. Laura approached, bringing Addie to me so I could kiss her cheek and give her a quick nuzzle to her nose. She smiled brightly at me, few teeth shining. An unbelievable image of her mother.
Taking her place on the other side of the altar, the music quickly changed, and I watched as Angel, black bow tie on his collar, came down with a white felted box in his teeth.
Uniform as ever, he marched proudly between the rows of seats, and came directly to Nick as he called. My best man took the box, and sat Angel directly next to him. He took a quick second to remove both rings, and stepped across the stage to hand Laura hers. He placed a swift peck on her lips, and patted Addie on the head.
Then, the Officiant stepped forward.
“Ladies and gentlemen, please rise for the bride.”
Standing quickly, everyone’s heads turned toward the end of the aisle, and my eyes instinctively dropped to the floor. I had to breathe. I had to keep my composure. I couldn’t slip now. It was fucking showtime, and I never got nervous.
Hearing the crowd gasping and cooing signaled she was coming, and I couldn’t fuck this up now.
Taking a half of a second to will my breathing to steady, I swallowed my stress, and glanced upward, hands tucked neatly behind my back, and legs shoulder width apart. I was ready.
Except that when my eyes caught her, I almost toppled right then and there.
Make no mistakes, Mileena was stunning in every form; made up, dressed down, straight out of a shower or sick as a dog. Didn’t matter. She was breathtaking - always.
But right here, in this very moment, my knees were going to buckle at the sheer sight of her.
Long, midnight hair hung in large, loose curls down her shoulders. Slender streaks of deep red strands hid within the curls. That was new. The stark white dress she wore flowed loosely below her hips, but was impossibly tight around her rib cage, black lace wrapping her midsection in a harsh corset. Her dress was modest, a high neckline coming to wrap around her throat. Lace black sleeves covered the length of her arms, and in her hands she held a variety of black pansies and roses.
All that was lovely, but what made the air rush from my lungs was her eyes. Staring directly at me.
These people, the nearly one hundred bodies all staring at her as she flowed effortlessly down the aisle, holding her Dad’s arm for support, were lost on her.
She could only see me.
Mileena’s eyes were not what I expected. Fear? Nerves? Second thoughts?
None.
They were sure. They were steady. They were all for me.
My chest began tingling, my hands beginning to fidget in anticipation. I wanted to get my hands on her. I wanted to touch her face, feel she was real.
“Who gives this woman to this man?”
Her dad squeezed her hand, smiling down at her.
“I do.”
He kissed the back of her hand before giving me one last, stern look. Taking his seat, I took her fingers in mine and led her up to me. Her lips were turned up in a smile that I had never seen. I couldn’t place what it was, but it was blinding.
The words being spoken about our gathering, and why we were here were mute to me. I couldn’t stop looking at her, hands in mine, and admiring how absolutely perfect she was. No flaws. No hesitation.
How the fuck did I manage this? How did I get this fucking lucky?
“Noah, your vows?”
It occurred to me that I was being spoken to, and I had to pull myself from the bubble I had built around her and I.
Realizing what was expected, I smirked, nodding my head. “Right, sorry.”
There were small giggles in the crowd.
I cleared my throat, and regained eye contact with her.
“Mileena Jane,” Her face softened, fingers squeezing mine. “You would think that given my profession, I’d be good at this kind of thing.” She raised an eyebrow. “But I’m not, so please, forgive me if it’s awful.”
Rolling her eyes playfully, she squeezed m my hands again encouragingly.
“I met you during the darkest time of my existence. I was a drunk, disgusting mess when you found me. Although I had never expected anyone to be willing to put up with me long enough to fix me, you still picked me up, and put me back together.”
Her expression turned to some kind of surprise. I kept breathing, working my way through it.
“You’ve given me everything I could ever ask for, and I admit, I’m greedy enough to accept all that I can. You are my absolute light.”
Her eyes were welling up, and I felt slightly proud.
“So, today, I make these vows to you. I vow to protect you at any and all possible consequence. I vow to be faithful, to be fair, and to always bear the weight of our burdens. I vow to never let anyone or anything come between this love we’ve found.”
The tears began slipping down her face.
“I vow to be yours, until the last breath I take…” I let a smirk pull my lips. “even if you’re the one taking it, because I forgot to switch over the laundry.”
A harsh laugh choked out of her, and she brought one hand to her lips.
It took her a moment to compose before the Officiant turned to her.
“Mileena?”
She was wiping a single tear from her eye, working hard to not smear her makeup. She giggled.
“I should’ve gone first, because I straight up do not know how to follow that.”
The crowd laughed, and I grinned brightly at her. Her hand rejoined mine and she sighed loudly.
“Oh Noah,” She shook her head lightly, a knowing look on her face. “I don’t think, throughout this time we’ve spent together, you really understand how much you’ve healed me. Having our love, and this life we built, is the only reason I breathe. The only reason I am here today, is because you busted your way into my life, and pulled me from the reclusive shell I had hid in for years. For that, you will never understand how grateful I am.”
The familiar sting began in my eyes, and I remembered Oli’s words. I would let them fall. She deserved to see every last vulnerable second.
“Noah Sebastian Davis,” I inhaled, waiting. “today I make these vows to you. I vow to be your rock. Your ground. The voice that brings you down when the fame goes to your head.” She smirked at me, and the crowd laughed. The first tear fell from my eyes.
“I vow to be your absolute peace. I vow to be steady, never wavering from this place as your partner. I vow to do my best to keep you sane, despite the way I know you’ll fight me.” I squeezed her hands, tears now streaming. “I vow to always be yours, and nothing less. Until my dying day, I vow my life to you.”
-
We had less than five minutes until the reception started, and we had to make a grand entrance. However, Leena had plans that had to be attended to before we could go anywhere.
She had me pinned up against the wall behind the door of the reception hall, lips attached to mine in a passionate, heated kiss. Her hands were gripping the lapels of my tux in a death grip. My arms were wrapped around her waist, savoring the feeling of her body pressed against mine.
“Do we skip out and head to the hotel? I need you so fucking bad.” Her mouth breathed against my neck as she spoke.
As much as my cock loved that idea, stirring from its place inside my boxers, I gripped her arms, separating us slightly.
“How badly I wish we could, my love. But Laura will murder us both if she doesn’t get to make her speech.”
She groaned, pressing my leg between hers.
“Worth it?”
I chuckled, brushing a stray lock of her hair behind her ear.
“Let’s go, baby. I promise, it’ll be worth it.”
Making our way into the reception, guests applauded as we walked to our table.
The speeches were first. The champagne toast (sparkling water for Leena and I), was complete, and we gave our own speeches seamlessly.
It was time for the first dance, and I smiled at Mileena.
“Ready?”
Her eyes scanned the small stage. “I am, but where’s the DJ?”
The stage was vacated, only a few stray instruments laying across it.
Mileena had planned for our first dance to be set to ‘If I’m There’, played by the DJ. However, unbeknownst to her, I had other plans.
“Oh, he’s on a break. I asked someone else to help us out.”
She raised her eyebrows at me, clearly annoyed that I had changed the plan without her knowledge.
“Where’s my happy couple?” The accented voice rang through the speakers, and her head snapped over to see Oliver stood on stage, suit jacket discarded, and smiling at us. “Ready for your first dance, love?”
Her mouth fell agape.
Nick, Jolly, and Folio climbed the stage, grabbing their respective instruments.
“What is this?”
“I thought you’d like to dance to your real favorite song.”
She was stunned. “What do you mean? If I’m There is my favorite.”
I grabbed her hand, leading her out of her chair. “It’s your favorite Omens song. It’s not your favorite song of all time.”
I could see the gears turning in her head.
“Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you for the first time, Mr. And Mrs. Davis!” Oli’s voice rang out and the guests cheered.
I pulled her onto the floor, and I could see the look of adoration on her face as the guys began the opening chords, Oliver’s voice melodic as ever.
“My head is haunting me, and my heart feels like a ghost. I need to feel something, cause I’m still so far from home.”
When recognition hit her face, her eyes teared up again. Wild of her to think I didn’t know her favorite song.
I pulled her body in close to mine, eyes meeting hers, and smiled warmly.
“Cross your heart and hope to die. Promise me you’ll never leave my side.”
She sniffled. “Noah, I can’t believe you did this.”
“Show me what I can’t see when the spark in my eyes is gone. You got me on my knees. I’m your one man cult.”
Leaning down to speak directly into her ear, I whispered. “I would do anything for you.”
“Cross my heart and hope to die. Promise you I’ll never leave your side.”
She swayed with me, eyes glancing over to Oliver every so often. Her own private performance entrancing her.
“Cause I’m telling you, you’re all I need. I promise you, you’re all I see.”
Leena’s Dad lead Laura out onto the floor. Andy pulled Juliet. Matt pulled his girlfriend Sarah. All of the couples beginning to join us.
“Cause I’m telling you, you’re all I need. I’ll never leave.”
A fierce smile broke out onto her face as the song crescendoed.
“So you could drag me through hell, if it meant I could hold your hand.”
Our bodies kept up with the tempo.
“I will follow you, cause I’m under your spell. And you can throw me to the flames.”
“I will follow you. I will follow you.”
Her head came to rest on my chest, breathing into the side of my neck.
“I love you so much, Noah.”
I smiled, leaning my cheek against her head.
“I love you too, Mileena.”
So you can drag me through hell, if it meant I could hold your hand.
I will follow you, cause I’m under your spell.
And you can throw me to the flames.
I will follow you.
I will follow you.
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ticklish-n-stuff · 6 months ago
Text
Cure for writer's block
So uhh have a rare pair cause I love them and my fingers slipped and I wrote this
But fr DaiChuRanPoe am I rite????
I'm done with college for like... 2 weeks until I start summer class lol. Am struggling myself with writing and motivation so I'll be p slow
Yea thats ab it, enjoy<3
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Chuuya x Poe (+ Dazai and Ranpo) (romantic)
Lee: Chuuya
Ler: Poe
Warnings: Tickles! Gey!
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Poe let out a frustrated sigh, pen swiveling across his fingers before being carelessly dropped on the desk. This caught Chuuya’s attention. “Something wrong?”
“No, I’m just—”
“Stuck?”
Poe let out a tired sigh “Yeah… My head keeps pulling a blank on this next section”
“Hmm… mind if I take a look?”
“I was hoping to show you once it was done, but if you don’t mind…”
“Not at all! I’m happy to be of service” Chuuya smiled, causing Poe to return one out of gratitude.
Fancy hat made his way over to his lover’s lap and took the manuscript, starting to read what Poe had written so far.
This was the first time Chuuya read one of his drafts. Ranpo has read countless of them, despite the author wanting to write something to finally stump him. Even Dazai has snooped at his work, but not Chuuya. It felt… flustering? His face surely felt warm.
Poe’s anxious thoughts started to scramble in his head over Chuuya’s reaction. What would he think? What would he say? What if he didn’t like it?! He had an arm around the ginger’s middle, his fingers lightly tapping along the other’s waist as a way to release the nervous jitters.
“Hngh—” Chuuya’s breath hitched from the touch. It didn’t go unnoticed by the author, if anything, Poe had a look of amusement on his face.
He let out a quiet chuckle and asked “Ticklish, love?”
“Of course not!” The ginger spat out quickly in a defensive manner, his own cheeks starting to flare up. “Now let me read” he grumbled, returning his attention to the papers at hand.
Poe tried holding back a laugh, instead letting out a snort at the situation at hand. Who would’ve thought that his mafioso of a boyfriend would be adorably sensitive? He leaned towards Chuuya’s neck and started planting soft kisses along the skin, while his hand lightly skittered over the shorter male’s abdomen.
“Pff- Stahahap it!” Chuuya let out an involuntary laugh, squirming around from the ticklish touch.
The author grinned at the sound, now using both hands to attack at the ginger’s tummy and sides as his lips brushed close to his ear. “Didn’t know my writing was that funny~”
“Gohohod! You teheheasy bastard! You’re just as bahahad as that stupid Dahazai!” Chuuya threw his head back against Poe’s chest, all while giggling like a little boy.
“Oh? I’m a teasing bastard now?” Poe gave off a devious smirk. “Should I tell Dazai about how cute and sensitive you are?~” he asked with a teasing tone, his fingertips tracing up and down the ginger’s sides.
“NO!” I’ll kihihill you!” Chuuya tried seeming all serious, but everytime he spoke up, he’d dissolve into a fit of giggles all over again.
“I dunno… you’re gonna have to convince me not to tell him~” Poe’s fingers trailed up until he reached his ribs, giving them a light squeeze.
“EEP!” Chuuya’s body jerked violently, almost flinging off of Poe if it weren’t for his grip. “I’ll doho anything!”.
Normally Chuuya would never give in so easily, but any sense of confidence would go out the window once Dazai was involved. Not that he’d admit to that out loud.
Poe let out a soft hum, pretending to think about it. “Anything, hmm?” Another amused snort escaped him as the ginger nodded his head furiously. “I think I know…~” with that, he gently lifted Chuuya’s arms above his head and dug his wiggly fingers against the exposed skin of his armpits.
“GYAH!!! EDDIEEEEHEHEHEHE!” poor Chuuya shrieked and cackled at the top of his lungs. His face beet red and hair all tussled. Poe was having a blast seeing his hotheaded boyfriend laughing up a storm.
“What a perfect way to wait out writer’s block. You’ve been of much help~” Poe teased, letting out a chuckle of his own as he kept tickling Chuuya to pieces. Despite being shorter, they both know that Chuuya has the strength to escape whenever he wants, but we won’t mention that.
Outside of Poe’s study, there’s a pair of brown and green eyes watching the scene go down. Snickering to themselves as they take pictures and recordings, mainly Dazai as a way to blackmail Chuuya later on, but for now he’ll let the two have their fun.
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The bsd brainrot is p bad. Got stormbringer and first vol of age 15 so maybe more bsd fics?? 👀
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