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villainmorals · 12 days ago

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⠀✧ | SYLUS QIN X F!READER. REMIND ME!

summary. six months after your breakup with sylus, news broke of you moving on, which is something he simply cannot allow—not if he can help it.

warnings. nsfw, infidelity, pet names, established history, hair pulling, face sitting, oral sex (female receiving) because sylus is a munch, doggy style, missionary, creampie, aftercare

wc. 6.1k

note. … so, this is my first time writing on this platform. i do not stand by anyone’s depicted behavior but… what can i say? I love an unconventional concept. ^.^ see you at the bottom!

✧ masterlist | request

Once news broke the N109 Zone of a prospering romance in his district, Sylus couldn’t find it in himself to give a damn. It was when he heard whispers of your name adjacent to another man’s that he began to listen.

He was out the front door of his home within a second, his leg swinging over his bike before Luke and Kieran could have a say in the matter.

The two men stood side by side, shouting a frantic ‘it’s normal to move on, man!’ and a ‘it’s been six months!’ from the doorstep as they watched their white haired boss speed away.

Sylus was sure that if he gripped the handlebars of his motorcycle any tighter, they’d certainly break off.

If he was willing to harm his most prized possession over the pure frustration you’ve stirred within him, you should consider yourself the most lucky yet damned woman alive.

He liked to think he was headstrong, but when it came to you, he lost all of his sense. You consumed him and he gladly let you, because it truly was a blessing and a curse.

For how much he loved to put the pedal to the metal, he’s never once gotten to your apartment as fast as he has just now. He didn’t even bother to properly leave his bike in between the lines of a parking spot before he was practically flying towards your front door, knocking rapidly until you answered.

Surprise is etched across your face as you crack the door open just enough to see who your uninvited guest was, but a strong hand pushed it open even further. “What the fu—”

“Where is he?” he cuts you off with a question, his red eyes scanning your cozy living room like a predator on the prowl.

“Excuse you, I— what? Where is who?” your questions stammer out as your brain tries to catch up to the scene in front of you.

Sylus forces himself to turn around and face you, realizing that his erratic behavior was likely confusing you. He hated the look you were giving him, the one that made him feel like a pure inconvenience to you (even though he certainly was behaving like one).

“Your… boyfriend,” he clarifies, almost choking on the word. The fact that the title was no longer his was already a problem in and of itself, but losing it to another man was something he simply could not allow. “Where is he?”

“Oh, I see,” you say, narrowing your eyes at him as you give him a once over. “You think that you’re going to barge into my apartment and pummel the ever living shit out of my boyfriend?”

“More or less,” he answers, his long strides continuing a bit further down your hallway. “Preferably more.”

You scoff, leaning against the wall with your arms crossed tightly over your chest as you watch your ex–boyfriend scope out your apartment that he’s all too familiar with.

“He isn’t here.”

“So I’ve gathered,” he replies, his head poking into your bedroom.

Sylus did his best to sound nonchalant, though his heart rate was through the roof. He saw no signs of any male presence—no messily discarded clothes, no misplaced shoes, no second toothbrush in the bathroom—which meant that your relationship wasn’t as serious as he’d imagined.

And boy, was he relieved to figure that much out.

You straighten off the wall as he enters your bedroom, hurriedly walking behind him as you speak, “Y’know, since your objective for coming here can’t be achieved, you are more than welcome to leave.”

“Did I say that was my only objective?” he simply asks, his eyes scanning your bedroom.

A bit had changed since he’d last been in here. You changed your comforter to a floral pattern, and you even matched the drapes to the shade of your bedding.

Your attention to detail was something he admired about you, and his attention to detail was something you used to love, though as his eyes fell to your open underwear drawer—you’re growing to hate it. A lot.

“Get out of there!” you exclaim, rushing to shove it closed, only to catch his slender finger in the crossfire.

He winces slightly, lifting his already bruising finger to your line of vision. “You’ve wounded me, sweetie. Kiss it better?”

You scoff, slightly pushing his hand away from your face. In any other context, you would have apologized, but given the fact that Sylus had entered your apartment without invitation and threatened to harm your boyfriend within five minutes of his arrival was enough to make you think that this made the two of you almost even.

A small smirk tugs at Sylus’s lips as he presses his finger to his tongue, soothing the stinging that you caused. Your eyes linger on his mouth for a bit longer than they should, and if he noticed (which he certainly did), he didn’t say anything.

“I see you went shopping,” he mumbled, his eyes falling to your now closed underwear drawer. “That’s a shame, baby. A damn shame.”

You can’t help the scoff that leaves your mouth. “Why’s that?”

“I hate the idea of another man seeing what’s mine,” Sylus answers, tilting his head to the side as he gives your body an agonizingly slow once over, “in such pretty fabric, at that.”

Heat rushes to your face at his implication, and you’re not sure if it’s because you’re uncomfortable or if you’re flustered by his forwardness. You figure it’s a mixture of both, but you mask it with an annoyed huff.

“I can do what I want,” you refute, crossing your arms over your chest. “And if what I want is to buy panties that you’ll never have the privilege of seeing me wear, then that’s exactly what I’ll do.”

Sylus clicks his tongue, shaking his head with the slightest smirk curving upwards on his lips. He finds your attitude to be just as adorable as it is frustrating. With the way you look, arms tightly crossed over your chest with the tiniest wrinkle in between your eyebrows, he’d liken you to an angry kitten.

“If you’re trying to rile me up, you’re succeeding,” he states, drumming his fingers on your dresser.

Your eyes flit away at that. “I’m not trying to do anything. In fact, I want nothing to do with you.”

He scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest. It’s the first time he’s looked remotely upset with you from the moment he arrived. “Your boyfriend may fall for this little act of yours, but I won’t.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Sylus straightens up, his tall frame towering over you. You almost feel antsy under his gaze, but you do your best to hide it.

“I am what your heart truly desires,” he lowly murmurs, his finger tracing from the middle of your collarbones to the valley of your breasts. “And you can lie to him, you can even lie to yourself—but you cannot lie to me. I can see your deepest desires, remember?”

Betrayal is your body’s first instinct. Your breath hitches in your throat the moment the pad of his index finger runs across your skin, and you physically have to fight off a whine from escaping your lips.

In an attempt to salvage the situation, you straighten up, glancing towards your bedroom door. “That’s… bullshit, Sylus. Get out of my head.”

“It’s nothing of the sort,” he replies with a much gentler tone now. “And I’ll do no such thing. Your mind is my favorite place to be.”

He studies his reddened finger for a moment, silently deciding to steer the conversation from its more serious direction. “It still won’t feel better until it gets a kiss from its favorite girl, you know.”

Against your better judgment, your eyes betray you by studying the reddened pad of his finger. It shouldn’t be as enticing of a view as it is. You find it to be almost criminal.

“You can lose that finger for all I care,” you huff, trying not to remember how good it used to feel inside of you.

“So brash.” Sylus forces a pout on his lips, though it doesn’t last long. He presses a kiss to his own finger before he extends his arm to rest on the edge of your dresser, keeping you caged against your drawers.

“You’re awfully lucky that I’m a forgiving man,” he murmurs, his red eyes trained to yours. “You can do almost anything to me and I’d allow it.”

Judging by the way your expression lights up, that seems to give you an idea.

“Really?” you inquire, narrowing your eyes. “Say, if I punched you square in your face, would you allow it?”

“I’m not opposed to finding out,” he answers, his eyelids fluttering as he continues to drink in your beauty. “You know I love it when you’re rough with me.”

That comment forces a flush to your face, and you almost have to pinch yourself to keep your mind from bringing forward all of the memories that proved just how true that statement was.

It infuriates you how easily he could get a reaction out of you, no less than six months after you broke up with him. Perhaps that was why, in a split second decision (one that you’re hardly aware you’re making), your fist goes flying towards his face.

Sylus firmly stops your wielding hand before it can make contact with his cheek. His fingers unwind your fist and bring your hand close, allowing him to press a few chaste kisses to your knuckles.

“Have I told you how pretty you look today?” he asks, his voice slightly muffled by the kisses he’s peppering on your hand. “So, so beautiful.”

Only he would say such a thing after you attempted to inflict bodily harm upon him. You wish you could rationalize his behavior, but you can’t—that’s just Sylus.

Your body betrays you in every way, shape, and form. Your face is flushed, your eyes are half lidded, and the mere contact of his lips on your knuckles is enough for butterflies to flutter in your stomach.

Grasping onto the last bit of common sense you have, you pull your hand from his grasp.

“It’s time for you to go,” you insist, beginning to slide against the dresser to escape his gaze.

Sylus allows you to create a bit of distance between the two of you, lifting his arm up from your dresser to let you walk away. The last thing he wants is to make you feel suffocated—the very reason you broke up with him in the first place.

He tried to do better, but when it came to you, he couldn’t help himself. He wasn’t an animal, though. He loved you more than words could ever describe, and he’d allow you anything you wanted. And if physical space was what you wanted, he’d grant it to you.

“You know I’d do anything for you,” he quietly says, his voice carrying an unforeseen vulnerability to it, “but I can’t do what you’re asking of me. I can’t let you give yourself to a bastard who doesn’t deserve you.”

Your eyebrows raise. “How can you be so sure he doesn’t deserve me?”

“I know you, baby. That’s how.”

A beat of silence passes, and he conjures up the courage to continue. “And I’m positive there isn’t a single soul who could possibly deserve your favor,” Sylus reasons, loosely crossing his arms over his broad chest, his toned biceps showing through the sleeves of his black button–up shirt. “Not even myself. I’m man enough to recognize that.”

His answer catches you off guard, but you do your best to maintain your front. You don’t want him to see how his words seem to squeeze at your heart.

“Then why are you here?” you genuinely ask.

Sylus knows he’s backed himself into a corner, and contrary to what you might think, he’d intended to do just that.

He wants you to give him the green light to speak every word that he’s longed to say to you from the moment he’d seen you last, and now that you have, the floodgates are open.

“I’m selfish,” he admits, taking a tentative step towards you. “I’m drunk on you, and I can’t bear the thought of sobering up, even after all this time. It’s unfair, it’s horrible, it’s cruel—I know this, sweetie. But… I find my serenity in your eyes, and with you gone, my life is purgatory. The confines of hell must be more pleasant than what it is that I feel when I’m without you.”

Internally, you’re floored. Gobsmacked, even. Externally, you’re looking at him with the same soft expression you’ve worn this entire time.

Met with your silence, Sylus begins to internally panic. He slowly takes a few steps towards you, and when you don’t attempt to maintain the distance between you, his hands move to cup your face.

“Rid me of this life,” he whispers, his mouth so close that you can feel the warmth of his breath fan across your lips. “I cannot go on, not without you beside me.”

You truly hate how easy it is for him to reduce you to nothing but putty. You have a new boyfriend, you’ve moved on, you’ve allowed the love that you and Sylus shared to be nothing more than history.

You wanted to believe that moving forward was the best thing you could do, but if that was true, why is it that your heart hadn’t felt full until you laid eyes on Sylus? It seems to beat differently, like it’s finally come back to life in his presence.

Noticing the softening of your eyes, Sylus can’t help himself. He leans forward and presses a kiss to your forehead, holding both of you there for a few seconds. The sheer tenderness of his action was enough to make you melt, and you were sure you would’ve if his hands on your face weren’t grounding you.

“I’ve missed you so much,” he admits, tilting your head up so that he can look into your eyes.

Sylus was never one for verbal affection (or being desperate for a woman’s favor) prior to you, but he’d make this exception a million times over if it meant he could have you however you’d let him.

You’ve nearly forgotten all of your allegiances, and you can’t even blame yourself for it. You know that indulging in him is like eating a forbidden fruit, and even then, you can’t forbid yourself from its taste—not when you know how sweet it is. What you feel goes beyond want; it’s pure, unadulterated need.

“No response for me?” he asks.

You shake your head, swallowing the growing lump in your throat. You carefully slide out of his grasp and sit on the edge of your bed, his eyes trailing you as you do so.

You’re a firm believer that nothing is real until you’ve said it out loud, and Sylus is more than aware of that. He doesn’t want to push you too hard, but he’s never been one to back down from a challenge.

As you sit, your thighs naturally part and your skirt rides up just a bit, and the sight of the pink fabric clothing your pussy is enough to elicit behavior that you’ve never once seen from Sylus.

“God, you are a privilege,” he murmurs, taking a few steps towards you. Without hesitation, he slowly descends to his knees before you, his hands trailing up your thighs. “Such a sight,” he adds his eyes flitting to the dampening fabric of your underwear, “such a beautiful sight.”

If his words weren’t enough, the sight of him kneeling in front of you was enough to make you faint. (Or scream. Or cum. Maybe all three at the same time, you’re not sure.)

“Allow me the night,” Sylus pleads, his glowing red eyes finally locking onto yours. His hand moves to brush your hair from your face, tucking it loosely behind your ear. “Just the night. One night to indulge you.”

Lying would be no use, all things considered. He’d already shamelessly eyed the needy area between your thighs, knowing that the arousal collecting there is for him. Your stomach swirls with a mixture of guilt and need, and you honestly feel like you’re in an impossible position.

“Sylus,” you breathe, your heartbeat thumping so hard that you’re surprised your chest hasn’t burst. “This is so wrong.”

He shakes his head as his large, gentle hands move to rest on your knees. “Your pleasure means more to me than a simple case of right and wrong.”

“I wish it was as simple as you make it seem,” you say, a long sigh leaving you.

“Can’t it be?” Sylus questions, his thumbs idly stroking your knees. “Allow me this one night to remind you of how I feel about you, how you feel about me. If you want me to leave you alone by the time morning comes, I will accept that with a smile.”

You’d like to imagine that you’re stronger than this, that the idea of a final night of lovemaking with your ex-boyfriend to get him out of your head for good isn’t appealing—but it is.

It’s something you’ve thought about before (in the dead of night with your hand stuffed down your shorts), but never did you think it could become a reality.

Only now, with him kneeling in front of you, it was.

“Okay,” you sheepishly murmur. “Remind me.”

You know this is absolutely horrible of you to do, but you can’t find the will to deny yourself this. As much as you tried to get Sylus out of your head, you never could. Not long enough for it to make a difference, anyway.

(Perhaps this, a final intimate night between the two of you, will be just what you need to move on for good.)

Sylus knows that his time with you is limited, but he plans to make it the best night of your existence.

(Perhaps if he can remind you of how much he’s willing to give, how much he loves you, how much he’s missed you—you’ll change your mind.)

His large, strong hands trail up as he drapes your legs over his shoulders, pressing a few kisses to your calves and inner thighs. He presses a kiss to the fabric of your underwear, his tongue drawing out to taste the wet spot of fabric.

Sylus isn’t sure what’s come over him, but he honestly feels like he’ll either implode or cry at the sight of you right now. To have you again is something he’s dreamt about more than he’d like to admit, and he plans to show you just how much your absence has affected him as his fingers slide beneath your skirt to hook under the thin fabric of your underwear.

“Thank you,” he mutters against your skin, tugging the fabric down your legs. “Oh, fuck,” he mutters aloud the moment his eyes land on your heat.

He could seriously cum in his pants right now, and if he’s not careful, he will. His hands lock onto your thighs, pulling you to the edge of the bed to give him better access to your glistening cunt.

“Pussy’s all mine,” he breathes, licking a long stripe up your slit.

You would have replied if he hadn’t buried his face in between your thighs. His tongue laps at your wetness before he wraps his lips around your clit, sucking harshly at it with hollowed cheeks.

A cry leaves your lips at the sensation, your hand gripping onto his white hair as you revel in the feeling his tongue is giving you.

He’s eating you out like a man starved, his own moans rumbling into your cunt, his cock straining against the confines of his pants. Sylus could do this for days if you let him, but after not having you like this for so long, he can’t help himself from needing more.

Within moments, he’s slowly pushing you higher on your bed, still licking at your pussy until he’s physically unable to. He looks up at you with crazed eyes, licking his spit-slick lips as he kicks his shoes off.

“Sit on my face,” he murmurs, moving to lay on your bed. When he’s met with your hesitance, he’s grasping onto your arm to carefully pull you towards him. “I might die without it.”

You’ve never once seen a man so pussy drunk in your entire life, but you’re in absolutely no position to deny him. So, you move to hover above him, your hands resting on your headboard. You hear a satisfied moan beneath you, and he’s soon hooking his arms around your thighs.

“You won’t die without it,” you grumble. “In fact, you might die because of it. Suffocation—”

“Suffocation of this kind might be the best way to go,” he cuts you off, licking a faint swipe against your folds. “In fact, when we’re old and withered, it might be my last ask of you.”

Your face flushes, and you can feel heat rushing to both your cunt and your cheeks. Noticing the coy face you’re making, Sylus can’t help himself from laying a faint smack on your ass, squeezing its plushness as he stares up at you.

“For now, though,” he purrs, pressing a kiss to your inner thigh. “I want you to let go for me. Can’t have you dangling this pretty cunt in my face without letting me taste it.”

As you hesitantly begin to relax your thighs and lower on top of him, he lifts his head up to meet you halfway and gather your slick on his tongue.

“Very good, baby,” Sylus purrs, dropping his head back onto your sheets as he pulls your hips down the rest of the way, “now sit.”

When all of your weight crashes down on him, a soft gasp leaves your lips at the sheer passion behind the movements of his tongue. He almost seems to be more incentivized. His eyes flutter shut as he mouths at your pussy, the moans leaving his mouth in combination with the absolute filthy sounds of his tongue are enough to drive you insane.

Sylus feels like he’s finally left purgatory and has transcended into heaven. With his pretty girl on his face, taking her on his tongue, making the most beautiful little noises—he’s honestly never felt better.

(Well, there is that whole new boyfriend thing looming in the back of his mind, but he’s sure that you’ll take care of that once he’s done taking care of you.)

One of your hands leaves the headboard to grasp onto his hair, your eyes screwing shut as you rock your hips over his tongue. “Sylus,” you breathe out through a moan. “I’m— oh, shit—”

Sylus’s cock twitches as you moan his name, his eyes fluttering shut as one of his hands help to guide the rocking of your hips. With his other, he palms himself through his trousers, his mouth working tirelessly to make you feel good.

Even as self-admittedly selfish as he is, he can’t bear the idea of putting his pleasure above your own—even if the ache is physically eating away at him. With you writhing above him, the sounds you’re making, the look on your face, it’s all too much—even for him.

Your mouth lulls open as you let out the most beautiful whine he’s ever heard, and his tongue slows down, working you through your first orgasm of the night. He eagerly collects your juices with his tongue, his eyes rolling back as he finally presses a final kiss to your swollen clit.

“I can stay this way forever,” he says against your inner thigh, placing a kiss to your warm skin, “you and me,” he places another kiss, “together.”

You shift to lay beside him, out of breath and looking beautifully disheveled. Sylus licks his lips and lies starry–eyes beside you. Soon enough, a huff of laughter escaped his throat, realizing he might’ve said too much there.

Sylus turns his head to look at you. “Was that enough to get an ‘I miss you too’ out of that mouth of yours?”

You let out a breathless laugh, your hand running over your face. “No,” you lie.

That was the best orgasm you’ve had since your breakup, but he doesn’t need to know that.

“You’ve developed quite the attitude,” he muses, rolling on top of you. He slots his lips against yours, licking into your mouth, allowing you to taste yourself on his tongue.

“That boyfriend of yours must not fuck it out of you like he should,” he adds, the low volume of his voice rumbling against your skin as he kisses along your jaw, “like I can.”

Before you can think twice, you’re lifting your hips against the bulge in his pants, a soft gasp escapes your lips as you feel the very prominent shape of his hardened cock. With a grunt, Sylus pushes your hips down, his fingers brushing against your inner thighs.

“Such a needy little thing,” he purrs, his hand moving to cup your mound. “First you’re insisting I leave, and now you’re hoping I’ll give you my cock. You’re sending me mixed signals here, baby.”

You’re seeing stars, and your hand grasps onto his wrist, feeling the way his muscles tense as he begins to toy with your clit.

“I want it,” you whine, your toes curling as the pad of his middle finger circles your entrance, “you’re… you’re being a tease.”

“That’s right,” he whispers, licking a long stripe up your neck. “If you want it bad enough, you’re gonna have to prove it, baby.”

Your head tilts to the side as Sylus pulls away from your neck to look down at you. His fingers move to work at the button of your skirt, tugging it down your legs and tossing it onto the floor of your room.

“How?” you ask.

He presses his lips to yours as his hands tug up your shirt, breaking the kiss to carefully pull it over your head. His large hands palm at your breasts, bringing your perked nipples in between his fingers.

“Pick up the phone,” Sylus answers, releasing your breasts to sit up in front of you, his hands moving to undo his belt.

Your curiosity soon turns into something much more lustful as he pulls his trousers and boxers down his thighs. His shirt goes next, the fabric decorating your floor. His cock looks even better than you remember, but he snaps his fingers in front of your face to gather your attention.

“Sorry, what?” you ask, shaking your head to snap yourself out of your trance.

“Pick up the phone,” he repeats, reaching to your bedside table to hand you your cell.

You take the device from him, looking at it with confusion. You were embarrassed that you hadn’t even noticed it ringing, far too distracted by the sight of him stroking his hand along his length, but your embarrassment soon turns into dread as you read the caller ID.

It is, of course, none other than your boyfriend.

“Sylus, that’s— that’s crazy,” you stammer out, looking between his eyes, his cock, and your phone.

He snickers, and he flips you onto your stomach, his hands grasping onto the plush of your hips to pull your ass up. “What’s crazy is the fact that you expect me to fuck you without your boyfriend’s knowledge.”

“You’re above adultery?” you gasp out.

Sylus shakes his head, his hand moving to prod your entrance with the tip of his cock, his other hand grasping onto your hair to pull you back against his chest.

“Obviously not,” he replies, licking along the shell of your ear. “Just wanna show him how beneath it you are.”

Your heart slams against your chest as he takes the device from you and answers the call, holding the phone to your ear.

“Let him hear,” he purrs, slowly pushing his cock inside of you. “The noises you make with my cock buried inside you are such a prize. It’d be a disservice to not share.”

A sharp whine leaves your lips as he tugs on your hair, tilting your head to give himself better access to your neck as he bottoms out inside of you. “Tell him what you’re up to, sweetie,” he simply says, sucking a faint mark onto your neck.

On the other end of the line, your partner begins to blab on about his day, though you’re hardly able to listen, not when Sylus is pushing his cock inside of you like a madman. Your body tenses as he stretches you out, the sensation forcing a moan out of your mouth, though the man on the other end of the line didn’t seem to notice.

“That’s it, baby,” he whispers, resting his chin on the crook of your shoulder to press an open-mouthed kiss to your jaw, “taking my cock so nicely. Missed this pussy so much.”

“—so then, I told him… wait. Are you with someone?”

Your heart rate skyrockets as Sylus draws his hips back only to pound the length of his cock inside of you. “Oh, fuck… y-yes,” you choke into the phone, almost breathless.

“Thank you for your confession, my dear,” Sylus teasingly remarks, knowing that your response was a reaction to how good he feels inside of you rather than an answer to your boyfriend’s question.

He presses a faint kiss to your shoulder as he thrusts into you again, using his grip on your hair to push you back onto your stomach. He then brings the phone to his own ear, watching with a wide grin as you arch your back to take as much of his cock as you can.

“Our friend can’t talk right now,” he says into the receiver, grunting as your walls clench around him. “She’s gotten lost and found herself on my cock, which is such a positive turn of events, let me tell you,” the pace of his hips thrusting into you only seems to get more intense with each word he says, “considering it’s right where she belongs.”

“W-what? Who the fuck are you? I—”

“I can’t stay on the line to talk much either,” Sylus continues, his free hand grasping a bit tighter onto your hair as he tugs on it to fuck deeper and harder inside of you, his skin slapping against yours with each heavy thrust. “Have to make her cum for all the times you couldn’t.”

You’re lost in a whirlwind of sensations, your mouth gaped open as you moan out with each thrust he makes, your back arched as much as you could make it. You can feel a pool of warmth building inside of your lower stomach, and you let out a cry of pleasure.

You haven’t been fucked this good in, well… six months. That much is obvious to the both of you, given the way you’ve been losing your mind with each forceful push of his hips. He knows your body in ways you’ll never understand, and luckily for you, you don’t need to understand in order to receive the pleasure that he’s desperately trying to give you.

“Sylus!” you gasp out, serving as a warning for how close you already are.

“Mm, gotta go, duty calls,” Sylus says into the phone, releasing his grip on your hair to move his hand between your legs, two of his fingers circling your clit. “Call my woman again and I’ll kill you.”

Tapping the screen to end the call, he tosses your phone mindlessly, and it’s only when you hear it drop against the floor do you turn around to look at him.

“Sylus!” you scold.

He gives you a wry smile as he slowly pulls out of you, rolling you onto your back. “I’ll buy you a new one, pretty. Don’t worry.”

You open your mouth to protest, but when he slowly pushes his cock inside of you again, you’re hardly in the protesting mood at all.

Sylus towers over you, his forearm propping him up as he slowly fucks into you, his red eyes trained to yours. “God, baby, I’ve missed you.”

Almost instinctively, your hands wrap around his neck, pulling him closer to you. There was a hidden intimacy of this position that you’ve always loved. He obliges to your request, resting his forehead on yours as he thrusts harder inside of you.

“You take me so well,” he whispers, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. “So, so beautifully.”

You mewl at the softness of his praise, your eyes glossing over as he continues to fuck you into oblivion, your walls tensing around him. He hisses at the feeling, dipping his head to press a kiss on your cheek.

He can tell that you’re close, and he knows just what you need. He won’t give it to you so easily, though.

“Sweetie?” he breathes out.

You nod your head before breathlessly replying, “yeah?”

Sylus gives you a smirk as he raises his bruised finger to your lips. “Kiss it better. Let me use it on you.”

Protest is not on your agenda anymore, not by a long shot. You kiss the pad of his finger without hesitation, and you proceed to capture it with your mouth, your tongue soothing the bruising.

He smiles at the sight, a groan leaving his lips as he continues to thrust his cock inside of you. “So pretty, baby. God, you’re beautiful.”

Sylus retracts his finger from your mouth to bring it to your clit, his spit-slick finger rubbing it in beautiful, moan-earning circles. He watches as your eyes almost immediately haze over at the stimulation.

He lowers his head to suck on your nipple, his free hand palming at your other breast as means of stimulating you in any way he can. After a moment, he latches onto your other breast, his tongue swirling around the hardened peak.

“God, ah— Sylus!” you moan, your hands wrapping around his neck.

He nips at your breast before he pulls away, a guttural moan leaving his mouth as he feels you clench around his cock. “You gonna come for me again, beautiful?”

You nod your head, rising up from the pillow to press a kiss on his lips, and his large hand moves to cup the back of your head as he kisses you through your orgasm. His fingers gently thread through your hair, giving you the best of both worlds.

“Cream my cock, baby. It’s all yours, always will be,” he mutters against your lips, his thrusts growing slower as he twitches inside of you.

Sylus breaks the kiss to look down at you, a heavy pant leaving him. “Where do you want me?” he breathlessly asks.

As if that were a question you ever responded differently to, he still needed to ask, even though you answered just the same. “In… in me.”

He nods his head as he thrusts inside of you a few more times, pressing an open-mouthed kiss on your cheek as he bottoms out inside of you, stuffing you full of his thick, white cum.

A moment passes in which the two of you simply pant breathlessly to each other, your sweaty foreheads pressed together. It was a beautiful scene by all measures.

“I missed you too,” you finally pant out, a smile breaking your lips. “I missed you a lot.”

He chuckles breathlessly at that. “I missed you even more, sweetie.”

Sylus presses a soft kiss on your cheek before he slowly pulls out of you, traveling slowly to your bathroom before returning with a damp towel. He settles in front of you again, using the warm towel to gently clean up the mess he’s made of you between your legs.

You stare at him with the most lovestruck eyes he’s ever seen, and it only makes him smile. “You tired, baby?” he lowly asks.

Nodding your head, you extend your arms to him, and he pulls you into his arms without question. He lies down on his back, holding you against his chest. His large hand runs over your back while the other one tugs your blankets over the both of you, giving you a bit of warmth.

Not that he needed anything more than your presence. He feels like he’s on cloud nine, holding the woman that he loves, running his fingers through her hair just as he used to.

“I love you,” he murmurs into your ear, pressing a soft kiss on the top of your head. It’s almost concerning how much he loves you, but he can’t help it.

“I love you,” you lazily return the sentiment.

As you cuddle into his chest, you can’t help but wonder what would have happened if he hadn’t shown up today, if he’d left you alone, if he let you move on.

You know it’s crazy to think about.

After all, it’s Sylus. Your Sylus. He’s the only person you’ve ever needed, and now that he’s reminded you of that, you won’t forget it.

note: thank you for reading! please interact if you enjoyed!! <3 i don’t even know what the hell this is—we have possessive, dominant, and soft sylus in one go. but hey, it works for me, so i hope it works for you. pls pls pls give me ideas to write more for this sexy man—i never get tired of him!

✧ masterlist | request

#love and deepspace sylus #lnds sylus #sylus x reader #sylus qin #sylus #lads sylus #sylus x you #sylus x y/n #sylus smut #l&ds sylus #love and deepspace #lads #love & deepspace

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cumonstevie · 4 months ago

Text

Home Sweet Home Part 2

Summary: "It's good to be home," you think as you arrive back in Hawkins, Indiana; not only three years older, but also as a mother.

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Reader

Warnings: none

A/N: Here's part 2!! I hope you guys like it! this was 4.7k words and now I'm exhausted. I'll proofread this tomorrow when I wake up <3

Steve is still standing at the entrance of the living room, dumbfounded at the sight of you sitting only a few feet in front of him. He blinks a few times, thinking he’s seeing things but nope, there you are sitting on the couch next to your mutual rockstar friend.

Three years. It’s been three years since he’s seen you; since he’s even been in the same room as you without you scurrying off. He notes that you’ve gotten even more beautiful since the last time he saw you, if that was even possible.

His mouth is open, but no words are coming out of it. He’s just staring at you. He never thought he’d see you again. Not after-

“What are you doing here?” Eddie’s voice cuts through his thoughts.

“What,” Steve’s eyes leave yours and focuses on his friend beside you. “Can’t hang out with my friends?”

“I didn’t invite you for a reason, Steve-”

Steve glances at you. “I see the reason.”

“-so how did you know we were hanging out today?”

“Um,” a voice says from behind you. Dustin walks into the middle of everyone with his pointer finger raised and a pained look etched on his face. “I sort of, kind of, maybe accidentally told Steve we were all meeting up at your place to hang out.”

“Dustin!”

“I’m sorry!” The curly haired boy exclaimed. “I didn’t know that he wasn’t supposed to know!”

“Wait, why didn’t you invite Steve?” Robin asks what everyone else wanted to know.

“Because Y/N didn’t want to see Steve because he-” Eddie is stressing but stops himself from spilling something that he shouldn’t. “Do you guys not remember that Y/N and Steve stopped being friends? I didn’t invite him because I didn’t want to make Y/N uncomfortable.”

You’re glad he didn’t say anything more. Your friends never knew why the two of you stopped speaking and they were too scared to pry for answers so they just let it be.

However, Steve knew exactly why he wasn’t invited the moment he saw you sitting on the couch.

Poor Dustin felt bad, but he didn’t know you’d be there. He thought it was a regular hang out. The other day when Steve was driving him home, he let it slip.

“Since we’re all hanging out at Eddie’s on saturday, do you think you could pick me up and then we’ll head over?”

Steve shakes his head. “Nah, I can’t, I have a shift that doesn’t end till- wait, everyone’s going to Eddie’s on saturday?”

“Yeah, he didn’t call you?”

“No. What the hell?”

The younger boy shrugs and fixes his hat. “Maybe he just forgot to tell you. You know Eddie forgets things from time to time. He told us to be there at 5, specifically.”

Steve lets out an irritated sigh as he stops at a red light. “I’ll come by after my shift.”

Dustin is excited because this is the first time Steve is actually going to come hang out with them in a while.

His excuse for not spending a lot of time with them was because he was busy with work which was true and Robin can vouch for him on that one. He had been taking more and more shifts to make more money which decreased his free time. By the time he was finished working for the day, he was so tired all he would want to do was go home and sleep.

Wake up.

Go to work all day.

Come home.

Sleep.

Repeat.

He was doing that every day, seven days a week. It wasn’t healthy but he refused to give in and work for his father, so he did what he had to, to make ends meet.

The light turned green and as Steve stepped on the gas pedal, he grumbled out, “I can’t believe Munson didn’t call me.”

“I’m sorry, alright?” Dustin says again.

“It’s okay, Dustin.” you tell him, trying to defuse the situation. “Don’t sweat it. I can handle it, I’m a big girl.”

“Are you sure, Ace?” Eddie asks, worriedly. “I can tell him to get lost.”

“Hey!” Steve complained. “I’m right here, you know.”

“I’m sure. It’s been three years.” you tell the musician in a hushed tone.

“Yeah but-”

“He’s your guys’ friend too. I’m not gonna be the asshole that makes him leave because I’m uncomfortable. He can stay. It’s okay, Eds, really. I’m twenty now, not seventeen.”

“Fine.” Eddie sighs, turning to Steve. “Make yourself at home, Harrington.”

He looks between you and Eddie as he sits down on the couch across from you. “Thanks…”

It’s awkward after that. The silence is overbearing and you wish you could dig up a hole and throw yourself in it. You knew it was inevitable that you’d run into Steve after moving back home but you never pictured it being like this.

You’re uncomfortable.

Steve’s uncomfortable.

Robin, Jonathan, Eddie, Nancy- uncomfortable.

Robin clears her throat loudly. “So, uh, that was-”

“Mommy!” Penelope interrupts as she runs over to you. “Block!”

“Block?” you question before she hands you three blocks stacked on one another. “Oh, how pretty! Did you make this all by yourself?”

“Ya!”

“Oh my goodness, you’re so talented, Penny!” You praise the toddler and scoop her into your arms. She blushes and lets out a giggle.

Steve’s world starts spinning. It was spinning the moment he heard the toddler say mommy.

You’re a mom? Since when? And nobody told him?

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

And here Steve goes again, mouth trying to form words as his eyes move between you and Penelope but nothing comes out. You don’t even notice that he’s looking at the both of you, too occupied with Penny and her magnificent three story tower made of blocks.

You’re in the middle of praising your daughter when Eddie clears his throat and elbows you in the side.

“Ow! What the heck, Eds?” You rub your side as you look at your friend. He motions to Steve with his eyes and your mouth forms an ‘o’.

Shit, you think.

“Oh, um, Steve, this is my daughter Penelope.” You introduce, hoping no one can tell that your voice definitely faltered a bit in the process. “Penny, look,” you gain your daughter's attention as you point over to Steve. “That’s mommy’s friend, Steve. Can you say ‘hi Steve’?”

“Hi Steeb…” She gets shy, hiding behind her hands but peeking to look at the brunet that was sitting across from you.

Hi Pen- Can I call her Penny?” His eyes shift to you.

“Of course.”

He looks back at the toddler. “Hi Penny,” Steve says lightly as he takes in her facial features. “You’re so pretty.”

Penelope giggles at him then turns and points to you. “Mommy pwetty.”

Steve smiles. “Yeah, your mommy is pretty. Guess that’s where you get your looks from, huh pretty girl?”

Penelope giggles again and you feel your cheeks flush. Robin and Nancy have a smug look on their faces after his comment and you swear you hear Robin call Steve a dingus.

“Here,” you hand your toddler the blocks. “Go build another one, Penny.”

“Otay!”

Max beckons the toddler over and you watch as she runs straight to the red haired girl. Your eyes fleet over to Steve who is looking at your little girl like he’s trying to figure something out. His eyebrows are pinched ever so slightly and he looks deep in thought.

“Hey, um,” he starts slowly, trying to form a coherent sentence, “who-who’s the um… you now, the-”

“You don’t know him.” Nancy cuts him off from his blabbering.

“None of us do.” Jonathan adds.

Robin then chimes in, “Yeah, he’s some asshole that- Oops! Sorry, Penny! He’s some idiot Y/N met in Michigan who left her when she told him she was pregnant.” She then scoffs. “Douchebag.”

You visibly see the cogs in Steve’s head halt after what Robin said and you say a silent thank you to whoever may be listening to your pleas. You tell yourself that you’ll tell Steve that Penelope is his eventually but not right now, not in front of all of your friends who you’re seeing for the first time in three years. That could be a conversation for a different day.

“Hm,” Steve hums, “what a prick.”

You shrug and loosen up a little bit. “I’ve been managing fine. My parents are a big help too.”

“And now you have us.” Nancy smiled.

“Yeah,” you smile back. “I do.”

For the rest of your time there, things seemed to get less awkward and soon enough it felt like old times, hanging out with everyone.

You’re laughing at something Robin just said when your eyes drift over to the clock on Eddie’s wall.

“Shit,” Your eyes widened.

“What?” Eddie is the first to ask.

“It’s almost 8:30,” you say as you stand up from your seat. “Penny’s bedtime was an hour ago. Crap, I hope this doesn’t mess up her sleep schedule.”

Eddie shrugs. “She doesn’t look very sleepy to me, Ace.”

“That’s because she’s been playing with the kids.” You tell your friend. “She’ll probably crash out when we get home. Sorry to be a party pooper guys, but I gotta get home and put Penny to sleep.”

They tell you that it’s okay and you even plan to hang out again soon.

“Penny, it’s time to go.” You say sweetly as you crouch down next to your daughter. “Say bye-bye.”

She fights it for a few seconds but ultimately gives up and waves bye to the kids.

“See you guys later, alright?” You tell the Party. “Here, I’ll write my number and address down for you guys if you ever wanna call or stop by to see Penny, okay?”

The younger kids nod and you quickly find a pen and paper and scribble down your number and address before handing it to Max who was the closest to you.

“Share it.” You tell them as you pick Penelope up. “Eds,” you turn to your friend who was nursing a beer. “You ready?”

Eddie frowns as he looks down at the beer in his hand. “I’ve been drinking and I don’t want to put you or Pen at risk. Why don’t you stay the night? You two can take my bed and I’ll crash on the couch.”

You frown as well. “I would but Penny won’t be able to sleep without Bun.”

At the mention of Bun, Penelope looks at you with a pout. “Where’s Bun?”

“Who’s Bun?”

“Penelope’s stuffed animal. It’s a bunny. She can’t sleep without it lately.”

Eddie rubs his face with his hands and sighs. “Gosh, Ace, I’m sorry. I should’ve stopped drinking a while ago. How about I-”

“I can take you home.” Steve cuts him off. Your heart thumps against your chest. “I don’t mind.”

“You don’t have to, Steve, I can-”

“No, seriously.” He shakes his head. “I really don’t mind at all.”

Is this a good decision? Letting the father of your child (who doesn’t know he’s the father of your child) drive you home? Who knows. But you do know that you have to get you and Penny home soon and Steve seems like a better option than a complete stranger driving a taxi.

Your eyes lock on Nancy, Jonathan, then Robin who all give you a little frown as they nod over to the kids. Of course they wouldn’t have any space for you and Penelope, they have to take the kids home. Crap.

“Y/N?” Steve’s voice snaps you back to reality.

“Huh?” You look at him, blinking a few times. “Oh, yeah, if you really don’t mind-”

“I don’t.” He gives you a small smile. “Do you have a car seat for Penny?”

“Yeah,” you breathe. “Eddie-”

“I’ll unlock my car.”

“Thank you.”

You make your rounds, saying bye to everyone and Eddie gives Penelope a big kiss on the cheek before you exit his apartment which makes her laugh. Before you could even offer to help, Steve is pulling Penelope’s car seat out of Eddie’s car and buckling it up in his backseat. He tugs at the car seat a few times, making sure it’s secured safely before turning toward you and stepping aside.

“Good to go.” He tells you.

Steve watches as you buckle Penelope up and you kiss her forehead before shutting the door. You didn’t even notice when Steve walked around you to open the passenger door for you.

“You know you don’t have to do that, right?” You say as you slide into the seat.

“Come on, Y/N,” he smiles. “When have I ever let you open the car door for yourself?”

Never, but you're not about to answer him. Instead, you playfully roll your eyes and say, “Get in the car and drive me home, Harrington.”

“Make a left here then keep going straight.” You tell him and he does as he’s told.

It fell silent and the only thing that could be heard was Penelope’s soft snores coming from the back. She had fallen asleep a few minutes after you had left Eddie’s. So much for not being able to sleep without Bun..

Steve kept glancing at you every chance he had but you paid no mind as your eyes were scanning the environment outside of your window. His slender fingers rapped against the steering wheel and he tried to think of something- anything to say to you.

“Hey,” he finally says.

“Hmm?”

“I-I just wanted to say that you look good, you know? Motherhood looks good on you.” Really, Steve? That's all you got? “I mean, you’re a great mother, but I’m pretty sure you already knew that. What I’m trying to say is three years did good to you, you know? Wait, that kind of sounded horrible. I mean, like-”

“Steve,” you let out a soft laugh at his stuttering. “Three years did good to you too.”

He smiles as he continues to drive.

“Make another left up here and it’s the fourth house on the right.”

It’s silent again. You watch as you pass by all the trees in the neighborhood and Steve’s back to tapping his fingers against the steering wheel. He pulls up to your house and there’s another minute of silence before he speaks again.

“So,” he lets out an awkward cough. “Can we talk about the elephant in the room?”

You face him with a confused look. “What elephant?”

“You know,” his eyes drop to his lap and he nervously plays with his fingers. “The fact that Penelope is my daughter.”

He’s looking at you now but he’s not mad. He looks… Hurt.

It feels like all the air has left your lungs because it suddenly gets harder to breathe. There's no way he figured it out. You thought he bought the whole ‘Michigan baby daddy who bailed on you’ story just like everyone else did.

Nowhere in his facial expressions did it seem like he knew the truth, and you’ve known Steve for so long to know that he absolutely sucks at having a poker face.

“How.” You take a deep breath in, then a deep breath out. “How did you know?”

“She looks just like me, Y/N.” He tells you, shifting in his seat to face you. “And Robin told me she’s two and a half; I did the math. Unless you hooked up with someone else who looks like me around the same time we did.”

“I didn’t.” The words tumble out of your mouth before your brain could even register. “I mean, I wouldn’t. I-I…” Breathe, Y/N. “I only slept with you.”

It came out softer than a whisper and Steve’s convinced that if a gust of wind had come by, he would’ve missed what you said. Your confirmation has his brain working overtime and his heart about to beat out of his chest.

Steve’s a dad. A dad.

He has a daughter.

Holy shit, he has a daughter.

A daughter whose life he’s missed out on for almost three years. Shit.

Steve drops his head down on his steering wheel and squeezes his eyes shut. “Why didn’t you tell me, Y/N?” He suddenly snaps his head toward you. “I could’ve helped! I would’ve moved with you or-or-”

“Steve,” his name falls from your lips softly, but assertively. “Can we please not talk about this right now?”

“Y/N, this is a big deal-”

“I know.” You say. “I know it is and trust me when I say I’ll answer every question you have but not tonight. I need to get Penny inside.”

You see his eyes gloss over and you feel like even more shit than you did a second ago.

“Steve,” you watch as he bites the inside of his cheek to stop his tears from falling. “Listen to me. We can talk about this another time, okay? I promise. We can meet up at my place or yours; anywhere, okay? And I’ll tell you everything you want to know.”

Steve takes a deep breath in, then out before his eyes lock on his daughter, who is sleeping, from the rearview mirror.

“Yeah,” he nods. “Yeah, okay.”

The next day you decide to tell your parents everything. They knew someone from Hawkins had gotten you pregnant but they didn’t know who and as much as they pressed you for answers, you refused to tell them. You didn’t want them to look at Steve differently, despite everything that happened between the two of you.

You told them during dinner and your dad nearly choked on his food while your moms eyes grew wide like saucers.

“Penny’s father is Steve Harrington?!” Your father exclaimed after he stopped coughing. “I let that boy into my home! If I knew you two were having s-”

“We weren’t!” You cut him off.

Your father gave you a look that said ‘really?’ as his eyes drifted to the toddler who was sitting in her high chair beside you.

“It was one time, I swear!” You add.

Your father shook his head in disappointment. “One time and you end up pregnant with his kid and that little sh-” he stops himself from cursing in front of Penelope. “He left you alone to raise Penny by yourself. I never thought he’d be so selfish. How could he-”

“Actually…” You start. “He had no clue that I was pregnant. I found out after we moved and I didn’t… tell… him.”

“What?!”

“Sweetheart-” Your mom tried but your dad shook his head.

“Y/M/N, she didn’t tell him she was pregnant!” He exclaimed before turning back to you. “That was selfish on your part, Y/N. We didn’t raise you like that. No matter what happened between you and Steve, he had the right to know that he was about to be a father.”

“I know but I was scared and-”

“No buts,” your dad says. “Matter of fact, you're gonna find him and tell him as soon as possible. He has the right to know he has a daughter.”

You look down at your plate as you speak. “He already knows.” Your parents look at you very confused, so you continue. “Yesterday when me and Penny went with Eddie to his place, he invited everyone over as a surprise and Steve showed up too. He knows.”

You hear your father sigh. “I’m very disappointed with you, Y/N.”

“I know…” You murmur. “But I plan on inviting him over tomorrow so we can discuss what happens next.”

“Good.”

The rest of dinner is a bit awkward, but you pull through.

The next day rolls around rather quickly. Both of your parents head to work and you get Penelope ready for the day. You put the toddler in her high chair before walking over to the phone and dialing Eddie’s number. It rings twice before he answers.

“Hello?”

“Eddie,” you say into the phone, “can you give me Steve’s number?”

“Visiting old flames already?” You could practically hear the smirk on his lips. “My, my, you work fast, Ace.”

“Shut up, idiot.” there’s a beat of silence before you speak again. “He knows.”

“Uh, he knows?”

You roll your eyes. “About Penelope. He knows she’s his.”

“Oh my god,” Eddie says. “You told him?”

“No! He knew the whole time!” You exclaim softly. “Said it was because she looks just like him.”

“Well, he’s not wrong.”

“Eddie.”

“Sorry,” there’s shuffling on the other end. “Well, he’s at work right now so he won’t answer his house phone but I could give you his work number.”

“That works.”

You grab a pen and paper and scribble down the number Eddie tells you, thanking him before hanging up. You punch in Steve’s work number and it rings a few times before someone answers.

“Family Video, how can I help you?”

The voice is sickly sweet and your nose scrunches. “Robin?”

“Y/N?” Her voice is back to normal. “What’s up?”

“Is Steve there?”

“Yep.”

You wait in silence for a bit, thinking she’s going to call Steve over or hand him the phone, but she doesn’t.

“Can you give him the phone?” You say after a bit.

“Oh! Totally.” You assume she takes the phone away from her ear because she sounds a bit far. “It’s for you, dingus.”

“Who is it? Dustin?” Steve says as his voice sounds closer.

“No, Y/N.”

There’s a thud on the other end and you hear Robin say something but you can’t make it out.

“Y/N, hey, what uh, what’s up?” Steve sounds out of breath.

“Hey, sorry to bother you at work-”

“It’s no problem.” He speaks. “Is something wrong? Is Penny okay?”

“She’s fine.” you reassure him. “I was just calling to ask if you’d wanna come over to my place so that we could… talk.” Your fingers nervously play with the cord attached to the phone. “It doesn’t have to be right now! It could be after you get off of work or even tomorrow or something-”

“I’ll be right over.”

“You don’t-”

He hangs up before you can finish and you turn to Penelope who’s looking at you with big eyes.

“Your dad is a crazy person, Penny.”

She giggles.

As you wait for Steve to arrive, you make some breakfast for yourself and for Penelope… and maybe a little extra. Just in case, you know? You had just put Penelope’s food down in front of her when there was a knock on the door.

“Who is it, Penny?” You ask her as you make your way toward the door.

“Mmm… Poppy!”

Poppy is what she calls your father.

“Let’s see…” You open the door, revealing Steve and not Poppy.

Steve smiles as he sees you on the other end of the door. “Hey.”

“Hey Steve.” You say, moving to the side. “Come in.”

He says thanks and as soon as Penelope gets a good look at him, she yells out, “Steeb!”

His eyes are on her immediately and his smile grows bigger. “Hey pretty girl, you remember me!”

Penelope giggles and continues to stuff her face with her breakfast. You move toward the food on the counter and look at Steve.

“Are you hungry?” You’re already grabbing a plate for him.

“I don’t want to impose; I can get something later-”

“Shut up and eat, Steve. I made more than enough.”

You put the plate of pancakes in front of him and he bites back a smile. “Yes ma’am.”

He takes a seat beside Penelope and the two start eating in sync. Yep. There is absolutely no doubt that Penny is Steve’s daughter.

The three of you are enjoying breakfast and every now and then Steve will point to something on Penelope’s plate and ask her what it is. She answers the best she can and he praises her for trying. It’s like a little glimpse into what life would’ve been like if everything went RIGHT.

“So,” you clear your throat, “I think I owe you an apology.”

Steve’s eyebrows crease and he tears his gaze from Penelope and moves it to you. “What? No you don’t. If anyone’s apologizing, it’s me.”

“I owe you one too. I should’ve told you about me being pregnant when I found out instead of keeping it from you.” You say as you move a piece of pancake around on your plate.

“I understand,” Steve nods. “I mean, it sucks knowing I've missed out on Penelope’s life thus far but I-I know I hurt you, and… God, Y/N, I’m so sorry.”

“Steve-”

He shakes his head. “Please let me say what I need to say.”

You give him a curt nod and he takes a deep breath. “I know it seems like I used you that day but I need you to know that I meant it when I said I felt the same way for you. There is no excuse for me calling you Nancy after we were done-” he glances at Penelope before his eyes focus back on you. “Snuggling.”

“Pfft!” You cover your mouth immediately. “Sorry!”

“Hey, I’m not about to taint my daughter's innocent ears.” There’s a fake frown on his face before he breaks out with a smile. It lasts for a few seconds before he gets serious again. “I need you to know that I really am sorry. At that point, I think I had liked you since eighth grade and I waited to see a hint that you might’ve liked me back but when I didn’t see one, I thought it was time to move on. I was also terrified that if I told you how I felt, that it would ruin our friendship and I didn’t want that to happen because you were my best friend.”

He sits back in his seat and frowns. “Then, I met Nancy and I really liked her… but then she broke my heart and I was a wreck after that. I thought I was over her completely after all those months of us being broken up because… my feelings for you came back. In that moment, I didn’t even realize I had called you Nancy and I am such a piece of crap for doing that to you. Seeing you cry… I never wanted to make you feel like that and I’ve beat myself up about what I did since it happened. I am so sorry if I made you feel like you were the second option, Y/N. I shouldn’t have let my impulses take over when you told me you had feelings for me. I should’ve taken you out on a date, court you for a bit so you knew that I was serious about my feelings. I-I should’ve-”

“Steve.” You snap him out of his thoughts. “Take a deep breath, please.”

He nods and takes a deep breath, visibly calming down.

“I forgive you, Steve.” You tell him. “We were seventeen; we were idiots. I’m sorry for not telling you I was pregnant. I was hurt over what happened and thought you were still into Nancy and I just didn’t want to be a bother. Now I just want the past to be the past and to move forward. If not for ourselves, then for Penelope. I don’t want to dwell on what happened three years ago.”

“Done.” He agrees. “We move forward.”

“As friends.” You tell him and his shoulders slouch a bit. “I don’t think I’m ready to revisit this-” you point between the both of you. “-romantically. And I don’t mean that in a mean way. I think we should just focus on being the best parents we can be for Penelope and learn to co-parent well. Our priority right now should be Penelope… that is, if you want to be a part of her life. You don’t have to if you don’t want to, sorry for assuming-”

“I want to.” He cut you off. “More than anything, I want to be a part of Penny’s life.”

“Okay, good.” You look at Penelope who was still munching on her food. Half of it was in her mouth, the other half was all over her face. “We can talk about you coming over to visit her here? I want to ease her into this slowly. All she’s known since she was born was me, my mom, and my dad and I don’t want to overwhelm or scare her with this change.”

Steve nods. “I’ll go at whatever pace you set, Y/N. I’m just glad to be a part of her life now. And… yours.”

“As friends.” You remind him.

“Yeah,” he smiles softly, “as friends.”

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@solarbxby @nojamsonmytoast @amberpanda99 @marrowfrog00 @ladygrey03 @ok-boke @browneyedgirly93 @munsonzgf @capswife @livsters @brinleighsstuff @imstevesnailedbat @theworldscalamity @hazydespair @octoazzy @keeryverse @yvonne-dump @kjaxm @smoshyourheadin @eddiessweetheart86 @valhallavalkyrie9 @moneyy-21 @fhsbsvy @feelinglikeineedlotsofnaps @keerysfolklore @ahgrace6 @millercontracting @dangeratthebeach @baileebear @kinokomoonshine @mysticalstar30 @nanvxs @raineshua @ajeff855 @trln @flameo @spiderman-stilinski @daisy-munson @sublimepenguinpeach-blog @ali-r3n @itsnotsophiasworld

#stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve x reader #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington imagine

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brummiereader · 12 days ago

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Binding Love (Part One/ Dark!Tommy)

Summary: After a morning of negotiations between lawyers, the day goes wasted when Tommy takes it upon himself to interfere in court proceedings. With your muddled intentions made clear, and your husband's declarations of love forcefully made known, a blazing row erupts between you both in the bustling streets of Birmingham. Will you ever be free from your husband's restraints? Do you even want to be?

Warnings: Dark!Tommy, language, violence, psychological mind games, controlling behaviour, toxic relationship, manipulative behaviour, psychological abuse, mutual pining.

Word Count: 5K

Authors Note: For the purpose of depicting the manipulative behaviour of Tommy in the first part of this chapter, I've taken it upon myself to have radios become a common feature in cars before they were. We'll pick back up from the first scene again in the last chapter. The song playing on the car radio is called "Release Me" by Engelbert Humperdinck.

[Masterlist] [Trailer] [Main Masterlist]

" Please release me, let me go. For I don't love you, anymore..." the sound of your husband's humming voice accompanied by the taunting song and a sharp turn of the cars rumbling wheels on the gritted ground, jolted you from the daze your tired body had drifted into.

"Tommy...Tommy!" you began to frantically cry into the darkness, faced once again with the horrors sleep had dulled for you. A slither of light beaming through a crack in the rear headlights, the salty air of sand and kelp your only comfort to stop your racing heart from plunging you into complete obscurity.

"Tommy please! I'm...I'm sorry! I was scared...you were scaring me!" Your stifled breath wept with desperation as you begged for mercy before panic took over, and you succumbed to the tight enclosure.

Losing track of the countless halting stops, the speeding turns as Tommy's foot pressed down onto the pedal with determination. You had given up on trying to route your husband's destination and fallen into a weary haze of slumber. But with Tommy's clear attempt to awaken you, and bless his lonely thoughts with the beauty of your strangled cries, he had also awoken the searing panic within you once again.

How many hours had it been...fuck, how many hours had it been?! How much air was left?!, your frightened mind scrambled to make sense of the amount of time that had passed through the music loudly confusing any tangible answer you could come to.

" I can't breathe...Oh my god, I...I can't breathe!" your chest heaved in a frenzy, relenting to the alarming situation you had distanced yourself from as your hands searched to ground your body before you let what was left of your sanity slip into the terror your husband was hellbent on inflicting on you.

" Tommy! I...I can't breathe!" your hand flew to your chest as adrenaline coursed through the blood pumping furiously throughout your body. Every muscle reacting in a torturous plea for you to flee the inescapable.

" Maybe you should stop screaming, sweetheart" Tommy's voice rose above the music as a wicked smirk etched on the corner of his curling lips. His arm resting casually on the open window with a lit cigarette perched between his fingers as one would on a leisurely Sunday drive in the country.

" You bastard!" you snapped forgetting yourself, throwing the warranted insult his way as a low chuckle obnoxiously echoed back to you in response.

" And to think I put a cushion in there for you" he teased, if only to spur on the enticing game of cat and mouse he had become the sole player of.

" Don't say I don't do anything nice for you, eh?" a slither of irritation seethed at the end of his tongue for the chaos he blamed you for. For the cascade of selfish decisions you had made he blamed on the day's events.

How could you have done this to him, after all...no. After everything he'd lovingly done for you to keep you away from those that wanted to ruin what you shared.

" I hate you...I fucking hate you! I never loved you Tommy, just like your fucking song! I don't love you! Are you listening?! " your screams continued as you thrashed your limbs against the walls. Desperately trying to garner a reaction out of him as your lungs heaved for the stolen air, panic had snatched from them.

And a reaction you got, but one you'd be thankful to not have witnessed when Tommy shifted in his seat, loosening the collar of his shirt from the restricting pang of anger bobbing in his throat. His jaw clenching into a grating sound of teeth grinding on top of one another as the blue of his eyes eclipsed with a foreboding shade of coal at the lies you had spoken to scorch him. Lies he knew were only said to fool yourself into believing, rather than succumbing to the truth that your doting husband was, and always would be, the only man you would ever love.

You were just...tired. A knock to the head would make anyone confused, Tommy told the distasteful burn that had settled on his chest as the calloused pads of his fingers turned the volume up to drown out any more unwarranted admissions that would have him act out on the sting you had pierced him with.

"I'm warning you, eh? You hear me? One more fucking word Y/N, I dare you!" Tommy's voice loudly ordered with a shuddering tone of control as his eyes narrowed in on the road in front of him. His leather gloves snapping with a crisp creak under his curling fingers as they tightly grasped around the steering wheel. Tethering on the idea of stopping the car to an abrupt halt and dealing with you by hand.

Wiping the tears from your eyes, your trembling bottom lip steadied itself from any further statements you'd be a fool to make as the toying melody lulled your weeping body back into hopelessness. Your eyes drifting to the narrow rays of the sun fading with each passing minute.

Hovering your fingers over the dusting of light, you began to quietly mouth the tormenting lyrics of the song Tommy had chosen to accompany your long drive into the unknown as you let your body sink into itself.

Feeling a strangled cry build in your throat, one last frustrated thrash of your elbow against the side of the car boot had a flash of light searing into the darkness, causing your head to turn from the glaring brightness of the outside world now beaming into your enclosure.

" Shit, shit..." your head turned in a panic to see the back headlight gone, your pent-up hopelessness now your saviour.

Whipping your head back to the sound of your husband's toying lips whistling in tune to the song, your heart pounded rapidly against your chest as you waited for him to acknowledge his taillight skimming across the road. But when no reaction came, you tempted fate and slipped your arm through the open gap, frantically waving your hand in hopes somebody would see.

Hearing the rumbling sound of a car approaching, you pushed your arm further through the shards of glass as you desperately tried to alert its drivers' attention.

" No, no, no..." you cried, pulling away to see the car disappear into the fading sun, hurtling all despair back to you in a strangled muffle of cries.

Readying yourself for the burning sting once again, you pushed your bloody hand back into the sharp teeth of your only escape, forcing it through until your shoulder met the door of your prison one last time.

And that's when you felt it. The lock that had kept you captive for countless hours in the dark.

In for a penny, in for a..., your teeth bit down onto your wobbling bottom lip, dried with a layer of blood from the dripping gash on your forehead.

Steadying your heavy breaths from backing out, you pushed your thumb down onto the chrome button, committing to your escape and the horrors you would face if your husband caught you.

With a subtle click, the door effortlessly popped open as you pulled yourself up with shaky hands, throwing the weight of your body out onto the road without care to any car approaching or injury you'd likely sustain as Tommy's foot slammed on the breaks to a screeching halt.

" Now just where do you think you're going..." Tommy's eyes narrowed, the rolled cylinder of tobacco resting between his plump lips puffing a cloud of smoke with each quiet breathy observation as he flicked the wing mirror with his finger to see the reflection of you scrambling to your feet.

" Help! Somebody!" You screamed in horror as you ran barefoot along the gritted ground. Only a thin slip covering your modesty, Tommy hadn't given you a chance to conceal with his unexpected appearance that morning.

"Shit" Tommy huffed throwing the door open, discarding the burnt cigarette from his mouth as he bolted after your sprinting feet.

" C'mon darling, don't make a scene!" you heard his gravelly voice call after you as you dared to look back to see him chasing towards you with a malicious smile of amusement toying on the corners of his lips.

With no sign of life but the two of you on the long winding road, you took your chances in the bushy hedgerow, heading down the dangerous coastal path with screams of terror as Tommy stayed hot on your heels behind you.

But your frantic escape and pleas for help would go unheard among the thrashing sound of waves, leaving only the echos of the melody coming from Tommy's abandoned car in the middle of the lone country road, and the ticking of its blinkers counting the moments down until he caught you.

"Please release me, let me go. For I don't love you anymore. To waste our lives would be a sin..."

One month earlier...

"Shit, I'm sorry. I don't..I don't have any change" your cheeks reddened with embarrassment as your fingers fumbled with the small, empty purse. Not a single shilling nestled within its velvety padding. Not a single penny to your name.

"My husband wi..." you stopped yourself, feeling a fool to have even referred to him as such, that you were going to rely on him to settle your fare, knowing full well he'd find enjoyment paying on your behalf with the proceedings set to take place in a moment's time.

" S'alright, Mrs Shelby. On the house" the taxi driver nodded to you in the rear mirror with a bushy bearded smile. For he was not foolish enough to follow in suit with your slipping tongue and make the wife of the leader of the Peaky Blinders pay a sum so trivial it could see him costing a finger his profession deemed vital.

" Thank you, Jeffery. But after today I'll no longer be, Mrs Shelby" you stated, opening the car door to a gust of autumn air nipping at your cheeks, your heels stepping onto the cobbled street, that paved your way to the grand building where a judge would decide on your future.

Strutting into the towering structure, you held your head high as your heels loudly echoed along the marble floors. But as you pushed through the heavy court doors, your mustered confidence took a sudden blow when the room turned to face you and the man that would reside over your divorce proceedings, scolded you like a child in front of a class of their peers.

" You're late, Mrs Shelby" he looked past the rims of his glasses as your pace slowed in a desperate attempt to muffle your poor choice of shoes and the unwarranted attention it garnered.

"I'm sorry your honor" you apologised, shamed in front of everyone as you hurried past the set of blue eyes following your every step. His piercing stare roaming over your body from head to toe, to every curve your fitted dress accentuated. His head leaning into your musky perfume filled with notes of amber and vanilla that drifted past him in a gentle greeting as you took your seat next to your solicitor. The intoxicating smell enough to cause a breathy exhale of repressed want from his throat. Tommy.

Feeling the intent stare of your husband boring into your heated cheek, you whipped your head up from the documents between your painted nails to see Tommy leant back in his chair, admiring your choice of outfit from between the men of law that separated you. Why did he have to look at you that way? He was doing it on fucking purpose.

Snapping your eyes away, a screeching sound of a chair scraped along the floor, followed by the heavy footsteps of your husband approaching.

" Darling" he greeted, taking the opportunity to approach you and the tray of refreshments stood feet from your desk as the fumbling Judge lay out your weighty file in front of him with the help of his assistant.

"Tommy" you replied, eyes fixed on the documents in front of you, trying your upmost to shield yourself from the pull of his daily dose of sweet-talking.

Scoffing a chuckle, Tommy raised the glass tumbler of water to his grinning lips. Amused by the cold shoulder you were adamant on giving him.

"Quite the entrance. Was that little show all for me..." You suddenly felt the heat of his body next to you, his distinct cologne of tobacco intertwined with whiskey and soot filling your senses. "...eh?" he perched himself on the edge of your desk as he leant into your ear, his fiery breath sending a ripple of goosebumps down your neck as the beginnings of a cocky smile curled against your skin.

" No" you firmly stated, feeling the remaining surges of embarrassment making laps in your stomach as you raised your eyes to see the smug smirk of enjoyment plastered across his face. Did you do it for him? Were you still seeking his attention, his approval after all this time, after everything that had happened?

" You sure, sweetheart?" his brows knitted together, mischief twinkling in the corners of his creased eyes as his hand reached under the table, roaming under your dress until his fingers met the clasps of your garter and unclipped one.

"Hmm, such a tease" he chuckled to himself, feeling the sting of your hand slapping his fingers away. Toying with your emotions and the agreed boundaries he was unwilling to follow once again.

Whether it be to purposely play with you or sheer refusal to admit he was the one that had pushed you to this point. Tommy didn't care. For your husband would never abide by anyone, let alone follow life's rules that weren't from the beat of his own drum.

" Be seated everyone" the Judge ordered, bringing your racing heart down to a manageable speed as Tommy scooted off the wooden table onto two feet, adjusting his suit before reluctantly playing along to the six-month temper tantrum he believed you was having.

As the dreary morning of papers being sent back and forth between lawyers, of decisions over the custody of your shared child continued. Tommy made it his sole mission to find an issue with every suggestion raised. Addressing only you throughout the entire ordeal as his generously paid lawyer, buried his head in his hands with frustration.

" Mr Shelby" the Judge's voice rose above Tommy's interruptions as he wiped the bead of sweat that had settled on his temple. A huff of defeat in response to the insult that he, a man of his position, couldn't keep his courtroom and its sole troublemaker under control.

" Two Sundays out of the month, Y/N? I won't allow it, understood? Sunday is family time and we'll spend it together, whether you like it or not" Tommy rolled his shoulders, straightening the lapels of his suit jacket as the Judge desperately tried to bring order to the room.

"Why don't we go back home and end this fucking circus, eh? I'll make love to you, we'll take Elsie out for an afternoon with the horses..." Tommy trailed off into a tangent of things he'd rather be doing than sitting in the stuffy room he was currently forced to be in with a wigged man telling him what he could and couldn't do with his family.

"Mr Shelby, I beseech you" the Judge removed his glasses, peering at your husband's lawyer to keep control of his client.

" You really want to do this, eh? To our daughter? Y/N? Y/N?!" the last of Tommy's patience quickly evaporated as you snapped your head away from his bellowing voice to the window beside you, tears spilling over your cheeks.

" Mr Shelby!" The magistrate slammed his hammer down onto its wooden pillow as an exasperated sigh at the tiresome morning loudly left his throat.

Ignoring the resonating boom of the wooden hammer, Tommy rested his arm on the back of his lawyer's chair as he leaned in. Whispering his orders into his ear as his scorching stare stayed fixed on you.

Daring to challenge the piercing pair of eyes burning into you, you raised your head as your husband's lawyer approached the bench with his orders.

Gaze drifting up from his clenched fists, you were met with nothing but anger. Anger at your refusal to bring an end to the whole charade, for your unwillingness to let him back into your martial bed over a paddy he believed would fizzle out within a week's time. How had things gotten to this point? Or more precisely, what had your dear husband done to push you to this point?

" Proceedings are postponed until further notice" the Judge's damning words shocked you out of your husband's hold on your every thought as your eyes darted to your lawyer.

" All rise" the portly guard beside him announced as those present dispersed from the room, leaving you with darting eyes scanning the empty rows of chairs until they settled on Tommy, and the satisfied smirk he was maliciously sending your way.

"What did you do? Tommy! What did you do?!" you shouted, storming over to him as he rose from his seat. Unbothered by your fit of rage and the role he played in its sudden appearance.

"You're so angry all the time, darling" he replied, dismissing your questions as his hands snaked over your waist, playfully pouting down at your widening eyes as if the entire ordeal was nothing but a small spat between a married couple.

"You might wanna get that checked love, can't be good for you, now can it?" He continued to rile you up after getting his way as you pushed him off you, feeling fooled by your lawyers guarantee that not even your husband could bring a halt to court proceedings after the lengthy battle you had already fought to get this point.

Tears settling between your lashes, you shook your head in disbelief at another delay to your freedom as you ran from the courtroom and your husband calling your name.

" Y/N!" Tommy's voice bellowed into the chilly blue sky as he followed after your hurried steps down to the bustling main road of Birmingham's town center.

"Hey!" He grabbed hold of your hips, spinning you around to face him and the tears streaming down your reddened cheeks.

"Hey..." he hushed your cries as you clutched your arms around your body from the bitter breeze of winter slowly rolling in.

"Here" he pulled his black overcoat from his shoulders, wrapping it around your trembling body, you shrugged off the moment it's warmth enveloped you.

No matter what he did, you wouldn't let him in. Why wouldn't you fucking let him back in?!, Tommy thought to himself, throwing his coat on the hood of his car. Oblivious or rather, ignorant to how he had toyed with you moments earlier.

" Why are you doing this, Tommy? We agreed to this. You agreed to this!" a sigh of defeat had your head turning in frustration to the cobbled ground below you. A stream of tears following in tow.

"Forced my hand more like" his huffy response snapped back as he fished in his suit jacket for a cigarette.

Eyes cast down, Tommy's stare darted between your tear-ridden cheeks and the morning dash of men and women hurrying to their places of work as you both stood in silence.

"Hey, look at me" he cupped your chin, turning your head to face him as he shuffled from foot to foot with a breathy exhale. "We'll deal with this in private, alright?" his brows raised, only to be welcomed with your rolling eyes of skepticism on what the word private actually meant to your husband whose idea of a fair deal was only if he was the one making all the deciding factors.

"Y/N?" he waited on your answer, softly brushing a lock of hair from your cheek when his eyes caught the sight of a police car sat guzzling gas on the opposite side of the road, and the prick inside he'd learnt had been hounding you for months on the whereabouts of his colleague.

Jaw tightening, Tommy watched as the detective gave a two-finger salute before turning the wheels of his car into the road and driving off with a pleased smirk. A clear provocation to rile up the notorious gangster on a day he knew Tommy's reputable temper could see him snap given the right push, in the right direction.

" Y/N?" his attention flew back to you as he cupped your cheeks in his hands. " I don't want this" he held your gaze as the end of his cigarette sizzled inches from your cold cheeks.

" I love you" his stare intensified as he wet his lips, his hands reinforcing his words with a stern shake to your face. " I can't lose you. If you want me to change...fuck, I'll change, alright?"

" For god's sake Tommy, that's not...not what I want from you" You felt a surge of disappointment plummet to the bottom of your stomach at the empty promises you had heard countless times before. Hoping that for once, just once, he'd say something that could reassure you enough to put a stop to the yearning you had to reconcile without a shit load of regret following shortly after it.

"I was just keeping you safe, darling" his hands dropped to your arms, tenderly rubbing them within his palms.

" Is that what you want me to do? Pull back my men? Is that what this is all about, eh?" He continued with his refusal to acknowledge the lengths he'd gone to keep control over every waking moment of your day.

" You've given up on us, haven't you?" Tommy huffed at your silence and the reaction it had on his grating need to have your undivided attention at all times.

"Just know this is all on you, eh? Our daughters' parent's separated because of you. Great fucking example you're showing her, darling. Well done" Tommy shook his head, viscously switching his mood back to his bitter brooding over your lack of response, and the expected answer you were unwilling to give.

Your silence being enough to make clear where you stood on the matter, you turned to leave as his hurtful words settled in your chest. Burrowing down to your heart, to the pang of guilt you felt for the stress you was putting your six-year-old daughter through.

"Where are you going?" He stopped you from taking another step as he grabbed hold of your arm.

" Into town" you attempted to shrug off his grip as you watched the barrage of questions form behind his eyes.

" You need some money?" He slipped his burning cigarette between his lips as he pulled out a bundle of cash, flicking through the notes.

" No" you huffed, folding your arms away from him as a wave of embarrassment that you didn't have the money for a taxi fare, let alone a trip into town without your husband giving you your weekly pocket money, scorched you with humiliation.

" Why not?" Tommy's brow furrowed as he threw his cigarette to the ground. " Y/N, why not?" His question turned into an urgent demand to know what had you needing to walk into the city for something he could get one of his men to fetch for you.

Fuck sake, you sighed to yourself, feeling the familiar tone of interrogation seeping though his questions. You just wanted space, space away from the house you still found yourself sharing with him, from the constant reminder of happy memories spent together, from him, from him and his fucking need to know your whereabouts every hour of every second of the day.

"You have someone else paying for this outing into town, is that why you don't need my money, eh? Tommy's paranoia started to turn it's ugly head into an onslaught of never-ending questions.

"Going on another fucking date, hm? Like you did with that pig" his grip tightened, releasing his pent-up anger out on your reddening arms as he glared at you with eyes burning with enough fury to heat your face.

" It's was a friendly dinner..." You sighed with frustration at his inability to stop himself before he pushed you further away with words intended to hurt.

" You meeting someone, Y/N? You fucking somebody, eh?" His voice rose, letting go of the little self-restraint he still possessed as he abruptly pulled you into his body.

" Why you doing this to me, hm?" His voice suddenly softened into desperate pleas anyone would think was an end to his anger. But his tight hold on your body as his cheek pressed against yours, the sound of his gritted teeth grinding together against your ear, enough to tell you otherwise that his fury was seconds away from bubbling over.

" Tommy stop...enough!" You managed to push him away as you turned to leave, refusing to withstand another second of the man that had replaced your once doting husband.

" You won't get rid of me that easily, darling! I won't let it happen!" His voice bellowed into the soot filled air, garnering the attention of those within ear shot. "You marry a Shelby, you stay married! You hear me?! You stay, fucking married!"

" Fuck!" His hands slammed against the door of his car as his lawyer nervously approached, announcing his presence with the clearing of his throat.

" What?!" Tommy's head snapped back to the fumbling man with a file of papers requiring his attention.

" See that those get lost" Tommy's demeanor quickly simmered, keeping the only document that held any interest before piling the rest into the arms of his lawyer.

Sinking into the driver's seat, his true intentions, written in the words of his solicitor, found their way into the glove box as one of his men slid into the passenger's side.

" What's the plan boss?'" the peaked soldier questioned, his voice drowning out into a distant muffle of unintelligible words as Tommy's eyes followed you walking along the cobbled path. His fingers hovering over the ignition, ready to leave when you turned back to look at him with locks of hair dancing in front of your eyes, cheeks rosy red from the chill that had settled over the foggy city. The sight twisting an unbearable urge within him to have you walk back to him, to have you back in his arms.

Were you coming back to him?, Tommy waited, a breath of anticipation catching in his throat as you stood from afar before the ends of your dress turned with a gust of wind, pushing you around the corner out of sight.

" Boss?" The peaky asked, waiting for his orders as his hand rested on the handle of the door.

" Follow her"

" Fuck..." you stifled the steady flow of tears trickling down your cheeks as you darted into a narrow bricked path behind a row of shops. A face as famous as yours was, and would always be a topic of conversation, even more so with a set of tears covering it.

How had it come to this? Was it after the birth of your daughter? No, no, before then? When you was dating?", you plagued yourself with the same frequency of questions your husband tired you with.

No matter how many questions your weary thoughts tormented you with, the truth was, you couldn't pinpoint when your marriage fell apart. It had happened slowly, small changes gone unnoticed. And then, in true Tommy fashion, accelerated to a point where the ignored had become glaringly obvious.

Yet still, wrenching pangs of yearning had you feeling like you couldn't live without him as long sleepless nights dragged on. The heat of his body absent from under the sheets of your martial bed. He was all you had ever known. And he knew it. He knew it.

"You'll pay privy to his crimes when I finally get him, Mrs Shelby. You and your daughter" a voice snatched you from the beckoning memories of your husband's arm wrapped tightly around your waist.

" Leave me alone" your eyes snapped up as you blinked your tears away, pulling yourself from the detective that had tracked you down for a second time that week.

" You're making a mistake" he caught your arm, forcing you to face his insistent inquiries into your husband.

"For the last time, I don't know anything. Now let me go" you echoed the countless responses you had already given.

One dinner had landed you not only at the brunt end of Tommy's raging anger, that you had dared to entertain someone of the opposite sex that was neither blood nor bound to you by marriage, but the watchful eye of your date's colleague, adamant on finding what he believed would be his partner's dead body, murdered at the hands of your husband after a fit of jealousy.

" I can offer you protection, away from him. All you have to do..." He slipped his details into your hand before you abruptly put an end to his concerns for your safety.

" I said, leave me alone" you pulled his hand off you, tired of being man-handled, of being expected to appease every living fucking creature of the opposite sex.

"You'll be next, Mrs Shelby. Mark my words!" He shouted to you as you drifted back into the bustling streets, his words leaving a harrowing sense of dread tightening around your throat as you shoved his card within the warmth of your pocket.

" Tommy doesn't share his toys!" The last of his warnings rang back to you as you leaned against a lonely lamp post, steadying the weight of your body against its metal frame when the world you were trying to flee from appeared in the corner of your eyes in the form of a peaked cap soldier watching from afar.

In sickness and in health, until death do us part. Would you ever be free from the binding love that had chained you together? Or would fate echo the words of your shared vows spoken on your wedding day?

Next Part

Tag list: @peakyswritings @justrainandcoffee @garrison-girl-08 @meadows5 @lavender-haze-01

@strangeobsessed @ttae-yong @lemonwithstupidity @lindsay00000 @mischievouslittlecreature

@jbrownta @lau219

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astroboots · 1 year ago

Text

EVERY YOU EVERY ME: Issue #1

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x female reader

Summary: You are falling from the 44th floor of the Chrysler building when you're saved by the unfriendly neighborhood Spider-man: Miguel O'Hara.

Word count: 930 words.

Astroboot’s Masterlist | Series Masterlist | Spiderverse Masterlist

[Next Issue]

You are falling from the 44th floor of the Chrysler building towards certain death.

Life doesn't flash before your eyes. Maybe your life was too unremarkable to have stand out moments worth a replay.

A run of the mill childhood. An unsatisfactory office job. Single, no kids, just a toxic relationship with your phone and a tiktok addiction. It's no surprise there is no reel of Kodak moments as the brick cladding whizzes you by.

The only image in your head is a blur of shiny red and blue spandex, shoving into your side that split second before you were flung out of the skyscraper.

The wind rushes past you and into your eyes. Arms sprawling to your side, instinctively trying but failing to clutch to anything solid.

You try not to think about how much it's going to hurt when your skull hits the pavement. Instead you think about how statistically, every year in New York alone an average of 3,000 people either die or is so gravely injured that they cannot rejoin the workforce due to Supes incidents. Something you learned on your first day as an insurance underwriter.

And now here you are, falling through the sky, about to become a statistic. Head first like you are diving into a swimming pool from a trampoline. Except instead of water it is going to be the hard, punishing concrete of New York.

Fuck. You are going to die.

This can't be the end. You've barely lived.

The wind beats against your face, the grey concrete grows wider and nearer, eating into the rest. You're not ready.

You don't want to die.

Oh god, you don't want to die yet.

You want to live. You want to live. You want to live. You want to--

Everything slows to a halt like you've stepped on the break pedals in a car and the view from the windows no longer speeds past you. For a moment you think it must be a trick of your mind, trying to spare you from the pain.

Then everything goes in reverse, pulled back into the air as the grey concrete recedes again. Instead of falling it feels like you are flying. In your vision grey concrete is replaced by red and blue.

You don't know what's happening but a firm solid weight wraps around your torso that reminds you of an embrace.

"I got you," an unfamiliar voice tells you. You reach out and instead of empty air, the welcomed warmth of the man's broad shoulders and firm chest meets your touch.

"You're safe," he continues, reassuringly. His voice is calm and deep and even though you don't know this man, haven't even seen his face, you trust him.

You're saved.

The two of you descend. Not falling. It's controlled, like you're gently floating downwards and this time without the threat of impending death looming by your feet, you have a moment to take in your surroundings, of New York spread out below you.

Dots of people and cars are gathered in awed commotion. They are pointing up while you slowly descend in the air. When the two of you land on the ground, it's so soft you don't even feel it until he sets you down on your tippy toes.

He's tall. Now that you're standing on your feet the height difference is inescapable. His body frame towers you and practically blocks out the sun.

He's clad in dark-blue spandex from head to toe, not an inch of skin bared. There's an emblem of a red and angry looking death-metal spider etched on his chest, and an outline of the same red where his eyes are supposed to be.

You've just been saved by a superhero.

"Tha-thank you," you manage to stutter out.

He lets you go, and doesn't say anything. Doesn't acknowledge your gratitude. Even though you can't see his eyes, you can sense him staring at you.

Did you do something wrong?

It's your first bona fide superhero experience. You don't know what's customary here. Why is he not speaking to you? Why is he just standing there like he's waiting for something. Are you supposed to tip him or something?

Out of nowhere, his hands fling out to grip at your shoulders. You barely have the time to wince, because he's already leaning closer. His masked face is so close that his nose is almost touching yours. Close enough that he'd barely need to tilt to kiss you.

"Uhm... wait I-- "

The mask disintegrates, tanned skin eating into the red and blue material as it reveals his face, and you find his dark eyes staring down at you like he's seen a ghost.

Wait wait! Do Superheroes do this? Can they reveal their face? Aren't they supposed to keep their identities secret.

You blink up at him dumbfounded.

He's handsome. A crown of cotton-soft curls that cascades over his forehead. Cheeks so sharp, you wonder if he uses them as weapons to defeat whatever villain of the week he faces.

He's very handsome. But something is wrong here. There's no smile on his face. He's glaring down at you, his mouth twisted into a snarl as if the sight of you turns his stomach.

"Shit," he growls. "This was a mistake."

You're confused. The gentleness in his voice when he saved you mid-air has been replaced by a sneer. "I should have let you fall."

Without another word, he turns away from you. The mask materializes out of thin air to cover his face. He swoops into the air and then he's gone.

~ Next Issue

Dedications & Credit: Guess who finally had a chance to see the new Spiderman!!!!!!! Dedicated to my poor beloved clown sister @thirstworldproblemss who has been kept up three nights in a row listening to me screech about this movie and then I held her hostage as we outlined this story together.

Without her, writing would never be as fun as it is. I am so grateful to have her as a friend, a confidant and hostage victim.

I don't have a tag list but please follow me on astroboots-writes and turn on notifications to be notified when I post something new!

#across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara #spiderman #marvel #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #mcu #oscar isaac #spiderverse

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bumblesimagines · 6 months ago

Note

let's do this again sometime.

i've never had sex in a car before.

Natalie Scatorccio

let's do this again sometime.

i've never had sex in a car before.

Pronouns: He/Him/His, M!Reader

The car shook lightly when Natalie plopped back into the passenger seat, a soft grunt escaping her followed by a breathless laugh as she glanced in (Y/N)'s direction, her cheeks lightly flushed and skin glistening with sweat. The dark makeup she always wore had smudged around her eyes, making the color of her eyes pop more. She fumbled with her bra, adjusting the straps over her shoulders and craning her arms to reach around to clip the back. (Y/N) rolled the fogged window down, letting the heat escape the car and allowing the cool night air to slip inside, raising goosebumps along his skin as he pulled his jeans back up.

"I've, uh..." Natalie began, finally clipping her bra on and running her fingers through her messy bleached hair. "I've never had sex in a car before."

"Yeah? How's your head?" He asked, reaching down to search the floor around his feet until he located her shirt, handing it over and watching the blush darken.

Sticking her hands through the arm holes, she shrugged. "Haven't had any complaints yet." Natalie grinned wolfishly and slipped the shirt on, adjusting it until it sat straight on her body before she slumped back against the seat. (Y/N) rolled his eyes at her response and shook his head, turning the engine on and feeling the car rumble to life.

"Didn't mean to rip your tights." He said, hooking his finger through one of the holes in her fishnet tights and gently tugging on it. Natalie swatted lightly at his hand, rolling her eyes this time and clipping her seatbelt in.

"It wouldn't be the first time." Natalie sighed, running her hand over the large hole where her tights had ripped near her calf. They had another, smaller hole near her thigh, though the place he'd torn them couldn't be so easily explained away with a lie about tripping. She reached for the radio, fiddling with the dials until she found a station playing rock. "Have you... done this before?"

"Done what?" He asked, reversing out of the secluded spot by the forest and driving out onto the street. Natalie toyed with the ends of her hair, eyes focused on the road. "Sex in a car or in general?"

"Offered to drive a girl home and then had sex with her in a car." A grin toyed on Natalie's lips but her eyes flickered around too nervously to make her confidence real. (Y/N) glanced at her, fingers lightly drumming against the steering wheel.

"I haven't hooked up with any of the Yellowjackets if that's why you're asking. Misty tried, I think... it was weird. My brother asked me not to, anyway. Said it could 'create unnecessary drama.'"

"Yet here you are."

"Yet here I am." (Y/N) echoed, his chuckle mixing with her laugh. "Don't tell him we did this, by the way. I don't think he'd ever get back in the car if he knew, and I definitely don't need another sex talk. The one my parents gave me was enough."

"My lips are sealed. Coach Scott won't hear a word about this." Natalie smiled, a certain relief etched on her face. She relaxed, nodding her head along with a song playing on the radio, something from a band she often listened to. Nirvana, or something along those lines. Her fingers moved down from her hand and began running over her tights.

"What's up, Nat?" (Y/N) glanced at her, slowly releasing his foot from the pedal when the light in the distance turned red. Natalie pursed her lips slightly and turned toward him, her eyes studying his face before she spoke with a hint of nervousness in her tone.

"Let's... let's do this again sometime."

#x reader #x you #x y/n #x male reader #yellowjackets #yellowjackets x reader #yellowjackets x you #yellowjackets x male reader #yellowjackets x y/n #natalie scatorccio #natalie scatorccio x reader #natalie scatorccio x male reader #Natalie Scatorccio x you #Natalie Scatorccio x y/n #ben scott x brother!reader #coach scott

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realmsalot · 27 days ago

Text

Oh, How Forgetful Of You

"Did you see him," Caryn asks, breaking the heavy silence. "Did you see him before he died?"

"Yes," he answers truthfully. She already knows that it him who asked Stanley to come up here.

"Did ya two talk?" And he knows what she's hoping for. He knows what she's hoping he'll say.

Yes. We worked it out. We talked things through. We apologize to each other. He died knowing his twin loved him.

He doesn't have it in him to lie.

--------

Or my take on a reverse portal au. Enjoy :)

Edit: So this isn't done yet. I was writing this on Tumblr mobile and thought I saving this in my drafts when app decided to post it! So now I guess this is sneak peak for a really long oneshot I'm working on. So enjoy I guess. I will appreciate any feed back on this. Don't write your fics directly on Tumblr.

Edit Edit:

Started posting the actual fic. It's a chapter fic now. Ao3 link

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

It's a cold March day in Gravity Falls. There's a fresh layer of snow on the ground glistening in the cool sun. And yet, the signs of the upcoming spring are as clear as the current sky. The snow is a mere inch on the ground, no where near the hight it was earlier in the year. There are starts of new growth on the deciduous in the area and songs from a few individual birds of migrating species that came back a tad early.

It's a beautiful day.

Even at a funeral, he acknowledges that. He's pretty sure everyone else there does as well.

Stanford Pines stands in front of an empty grave, with a hallow coffin waiting to be put in by its side and staring at the name of his twin brother etch on the headstone.

He knows that the death date on the headstone is wrong. It says that his twin had died last week, when the Stanley Mobile had careened off a cliff and was later found with no body inside. When he sent it off that cliff with a cut of the breaks, a quick hot wiring of the car and the heaviest chunk of firewood he had on the pedal. Stan had loved that car. Ford remembers the face - the smile that Stan had when he first bought it at sixteen. He remembers Stanley shoving him into that car for the first time before they went for drive, where they drove it way too fast with the windows down and shouting kings of New Jersey at the top of their lungs to celebrate. Ford remembers the last time he got in that car, screwdriver in hand, and looking around for just a moment and seeing stolen motel bedding on the back seats and trash on the floor consisting of fast food wrappers, bags convince store snacks, and losing lottery tickets. Stanley had lived in that car.

And now, thanks to Ford, the only things left of that car are a burnt pile of metal in the dump, the license plate sitting on a table in his cabin, and an old photo he stole from the drivers visor.

The death date on the headstone is wrong, but Stanford doesn't know what the real date would be. By the time Stanley had come, Ford was so paranoid and sleep deprived he didn't know what day it was anymore. But he should know. Ford should know the date. Ford should know the date he sent his twin brother to his demise. And he hates that he doesn't.

A hand touches his shoulder, and Ford is startled out of his recently encrypted head. He looks over.

It's Ma. And she's staring at the headstone, too. They stay silent for a while.

When Ford saw her arrive, he was honestly surprised she came alone. He thought for sure that she would somehow drag Filbrick or Shermie along, but no. She came alone.

The only other guest that came, aside from Fiddleford who came here for Ford not Stan, was an IRS agent. (And Ford is pretty sure he heard him whisper to the, "I know you're not dead," while glancing at Ford. )

Did Stan really have no one?

"Did you see him," Caryn asks, breaking the heavy silence. "Did you see him before he died?"

"Yes," he answers truthfully. She already knows that it him who asked Stanley to come up here.

"Did ya two talk?" And he knows what she's hoping for. He knows what she's hoping he'll say.

Yes. We worked it out. We talked things through. We apologize to each other. He died knowing his twin loved him.

He doesn't have it in him to lie.

"We talked," he starts. Scenes of that night flash in his mind.

Stan's face filling with hope as Ford talks about their old childhood dream. The way it fell as Ford tells he to sail away.

"We argued..."

I'm giving you a chance to do the first worthwhile thing in your life and you won't even listen!

"We fought..."

Stanley’s scream as he kicks him back dowases the anger for a moment, and Fort starts to apologize. And then Stanley punches him in the face, and it all comes back.

"And then he..."

Stanley had pushed over the danger line. Now all Ford can see is the fear taking over his brother’s face as he floats up to the open maw of the portal. And Ford stupidity calls out for him to do something. To not let his creation- his mistake eat him.

And Stanley does.

He doesn't doesn't hesitate to jump and push Stanford away from the portal. Consequently pushing himself in. And all Ford could do is watch as his self made monster ate Stanley.

"...he left."

It's silent again for nothing but a moment before Caryn starts to sob. She pulls Stanford into a hug that he weakly returns and she cries into the hand-me-down suit his father gave him.

Ford's eyes don't leave the headstone again until long after the mostly empty coffin is buried.

He had killed his own brother.

.-- .... .- - / -.- .. -. -.. / --- ..-. / .- / -... .-. --- - .... . .-. / .- .-. . / -.-- --- ..-

Stanford had contacted Fiddleford not long after Stanley went through the portal.

He needed help to finish the mind encrypter because it was getting harder and harder to keep his eyes open and he knew that as soon as he closed them, Bill will come out and destroy it. He needed the mind encrypter to be finish and fast. He didn't know how much longer he could wait. So he went back to his ex-assistant, who (unfortunately) knows how to make machines that affect the mind best.

Ford was prepared to beg, having just lost a brother and just reached a breaking point that even his pride couldn't get to. But to his surprise, Fiddleford readily agreed. That was the second time that week someone whom he wouldn't want to see his again helped.

The mind encrypter got done in record time, and Stanford's mind was finally safe.

Then, for some reason, Fiddleford stuck around.

Then, for some reason, Fiddleford started acting like they're friends again.

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wlw-imagines · 2 years ago

Text

Coffee Shop - Kara Danvers/Reader (Supergirl)

request: i found this prompt and was wondering if u could write it with kara danvers from supergirl pls?? "i started writing 'Supergirl' on your coffee cup as a joke because you kind of look like her but it actually turns out you are them oh shit - anon

a/n: these are from my old tumblr thefandomwritings from back in 2018 ! re-vamped and re-purposed (jk it is hardly edited at all) !! hope u enjoy and forgive the 2018 me style writing

Starting anywhere as a newbie was tough. Especially at this coffee shop... when you’d never made coffee before... and to be honest, you weren’t even really a coffee drinker. But, alas, you had rent to pay and a job opening had come through and you had been accepted for the job. More fool them.

The coffee shop was a busy one, constantly on the go. Your hands were already covered in burns and your new clean white apron was now covered in coffee drips and smears. Your shift had only started 45 minutes ago.

You let out a deep sigh and slouched, leaning on the serving desk to try and gather some energy before the next customer appeared. You really couldn’t bear some jackass in a fancy business suit complaining that you’d made their fancy coffee wrong again. Even though you had most definitely made it wrong.

As the next customer approached, you perked up slightly. Maybe the next 10 minutes of your life as a barista would be more bearable.

"Good morning, you must be new here! I'm Kara." She began and smiled cheerfully at you. She also added in an awkward wave before pushing her glasses up her nose.

"Uh, yes I am." You replied, letting your customer service smile develop into a real one. "Is it that obvious?" You laughed slightly, there was probably a 'newbie' aura about you (maybe it was the burnt hands?), it was fairly obvious how nervous you were, and you didn't need pretty girls making you even more flustered around boiling hot liquid.

"No, no! You're perfect- I mean, you know, you're great- doing great." She rambled, her cheeks reddening. "I pick up coffee from here every day before I go to work so I guess I just know everyone who works here pretty well."

“Morning Kara! The ususal?” Your co-worker, Liam, greeted her with a smile. He had been a slight godsend to you and had the patience of a saint. No matter how many times you had fucked it up.

“That would be great, but no rush!” She added, politely eying your resigned expression. You could hardly make 1 cup of coffee and now you had to make 6? For a pretty customer? Shit.

Liam nudged you, “Ready?” He smiled, his eyes slightly teasing as you took in a deep breath and nodded hesitantly.

“Yeah, sure, piece of cake.” You shrugged, taking the order note and looking to find the easiest first. Small steps.

On the first attempt of the first coffee you already found yourself once more cursing yourself for ever applying to work here in the first place. Your curses were interrupted by Kara looking at you with a worried look. "I'm sure you'll get the hang of it soon." She gave you an encouraging smile and you shot her a weary look.

"God, I really hope so." You mumbled, running your burnt hand under the tap for a couple of seconds.

After a short pause (and two successful coffees in) Kara cleared her throat and nodded towards the coffee machine, “It’s like riding a bike, right?”

“Huh?” You glance up quickly, confusion etched on your face.

“Making coffee. Once you learn, you’ll be set.” She elaborated, fiddling with her fingers anxiously.

You smiled slightly and gave an embarrased shrug, “I can’t ride a bike.” You admitted.

“You can’t?” She looked slightly crestfallen, hoping to have made you feel better rather than just make you feel worse about the situation. “Oh.” She faltered, annoyed with herself. Her brain searched for something else to say to make you feel better and to make you properly smile again. Before she could, you continued.

“I just never understood like, the pedalling? And the turning and also the gears?” You let out a soft laugh, “Although a bike makes more sense to me than this coffee machine so maybe I do have a chance.” You smiled up at her and her heart melted. That was the smile she was aiming for.

“I could teach you!” She burst out, without really thinking about what she was saying. Kara shook her head and tried again, “I mean, I like cycling. It’s easy once you get the pedalling and the turning and the gears down.”

You nodded, trying not to let her offer go to your head, “Do you also know how to make coffee by any chance?” You joked, standing up to properly face her and nodding your head over to the devil machine.

“Can’t help you there, sorry.” She put her hands out apologetically. You laugh and go to continue the conversation, but before you can Liam is nudging your shoulder and pointing to the coffee you were making.

“Y/N, the cup-” You turn around to see the coffee pouring out over the top of the cup, overfilling and spilling everywhere.

You leap towards the cup and let out a small, “Shit.”

9 cups of coffee later (3 of which were currently residing in the trash can), you carefully started to pass the cups into a holder, so she could carry all of them at the same time, and then hesitated.

"Which one is yours?" It’s your first shift and you're already trying to pick up girls. You decided to forgive yourself, you deserved it after the hell of this shift. Once it was pointed out (she had black coffee usually, which surprised you as it didn't seem to suit her sweet character), you wrote your number and drew a little picture of a superhero and labelled it 'Supergirl' - you were quite proud of yourself for making the art.

They didn't look identical or anything, but you had noticed that there were similarities from the moment she had stepped up to the counter. Once you were finished you slid the carrier of drinks and her black coffee over the counter.

She frowned slightly, looking suspiciously at the doodle on her cup. You shrugged, suddenly feeling a little self concious. You weren’t sure what about - the drawing? Your flirting? Your bad coffee skills? You cleared your throat.

"Well, it's a joke." You smiled at her. "Just because, well y'know, you look a bit like Supergirl...” She looked up at you, eyes slightly wide, which you couldn’t tell if it was a good sign or not, “If you just took away the glasses and added a cape-" You trailed off slightly when she started to look uncomfortable. You straightened up and cleared your throat feeling somewhat guilty that you seemed to have distressed your new (and favourite) customer. "Sorry, I meant it as a- it was supposed to be kind of like a compliment." You smiled gently, trying to show her that you didn't mean her any harm or discomfort. In the short space of time that you had met this women you couldn't help but feel completely distracted by her.

"Oh, right - Yes, of course... well, she is pretty strong and it must be kinda cool to be able to fly. Hypothetically speaking, of course. So, uh, yes. Thank you." She looked back at her cup then tilted her head to the side to read your writing. "Wait, what does that number mean?" Kara tilted her head, her eyes scanning her coffee cup. It's like she was deliberately trying to make your heart melt.

"That is my phone number." Blood rushed up to your cheeks. You don’t recall a time where you had to explain your pathetic attempts at flirting so much.

"Ah, right. Yes. Your phone number...” She nodded thoughtfully before her brows shot up and she looked back at you, a similar red creeping into her cheeks, “which I will phone you with." The realisation dawned on her face as it slowly sank in that you had just given her your number.

You laughed and leaned towards her again. "Yes." You nodded, licking your lips. "Or you can text me. It's up to you, if you were to want to go out sometime, that is."

"No- I mean yeah, I'd love to. That, that would be great. I-" She grinned and she nervously pushed her glasses up her nose again. "I should go but I hope to see you tomorrow?"

"Yeah, of course. As long as I haven't burnt the joint down, you'll definitely see me tomorrow." You joked and watched as she nodded slowly with a small smile in return and turned to leave.

As she walked out the door she looked back at you, giving you a little wave before walking out and away. You smiled and took a step back from the counter, mentally congratulating yourself on the win, until you knocked a cup of coffee from the side and it flew all over your feet.

“Shit.” Maybe your job here wouldn't last as long as you thought.

#kara danvers #supergirl #supergirl x reader #supergirl imagines #supergirl imagine #kara danvers x reader #kara danvers imagine #WLW #wlw imagines #wlw imagine #wlw x reader #wlw-imagines #coffee shop #lgbt #imagine #lesbian imagine

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pheadhones · 7 months ago

Text

my collection of pedals with acid-etched artwork done by my friend Russell (ig: @ acidrainpedalworks)

top: Digital Scream & ASD, my original designs

mid: Judas & Super Soda Jerk, an original circuit and Devi Ever clone/tribute by acidrainpedalworks

bottom: Noise Swash, clone of the 4ms pedal using a custom-etched PCB also by acidrainpedalworks

#guitar pedals #acid etched #artwork #handmade

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parkvcrs · 1 year ago

Text

The Flower Disease

SUMMARY: after developing a soft spot for his classmate s/n y/n, so imagine his surprise when he finds himself coughing up pedals the next day…

PAIRING: katsuki bakugou x fem!reader.

WARNING(S): mild cursing, angst, mild blood, fear of unrequited love, etc.

NOTES: i did write a hanahaki disease imagine for shoto todoroki a while ago, but ended up rewriting the last chunk of it since i didn’t like the way the ending was written.

Bakugou was never much of a romantic. In fact, he despised and cursed the name of love. The mere thought of it left a sour taste in his mouth. He currently sat at his desk, scowling, as he impatiently taps his pencil against the surface. The classroom is filled with Valentine's Day decorations, pink hearts, and an assortment of gifts scattered on some desks.

He despises the overly sweet and romantic atmosphere, finding it all utterly ridiculous. His eyes dart around, taking in the flowers, chocolates, and love letters that seem to be everywhere.

‘What a stupid and pointless day. Who needs this lovey-dovey crap?’ He rolls his eyes, attempting to focus on something else, but the constant reminders of the holiday persist. He crosses his arms, doing his best to ignore the flutter of envy that tugs at him ever so slightly.

As Bakugou's thoughts intensify, he's suddenly interrupted by a cheerful voice.

“Good morning, Bakugou!” That’s weird. He’d didn’t recognize that voice. If it was Kirishima, he’d be able to pick his voice out of a lineup. But it wasn’t. A bit puzzled, Bakugou glances up to see S/n Y/n standing in front of his desk, wearing a bright smile and holding a small wrapped gift. But she becomes awkward as soon as Bakugou’s attention snaps onto her, staring at her expectantly. “Um…” she trailed off. “This is for you!” She held out a gift for him, looking away sheepishly as she did.

Raising an eyebrow, Bakugou asks, “Huh? What's this for?” His eyes shift between the small box and Y/n.

“N-Nothing!” Y/n stammered out. “I just wanted to get you something…”

Bakugou snorts and glares at the gift for a moment. He's not sure how to react, especially since he's never been on the receiving end of such a gesture. “Yeah, whatever. Thanks, I guess.” He did his best to act nonchalant about it.

He takes the gift with a hint of awkwardness, his heart pounding louder than he'd like to admit. Y/n's grin widens, pleased with his reaction.

“Oh, uh, you’re welcome!” Y/n replies, happy that Bakugou didn’t get upset with her. It was a surprise, to be sure, but a welcome one.

As Y/n walks away to greet other classmates, Bakugou can't help but feel a strange warmth spreading through him. He attempts to push the sentiment aside, refusing to let this holiday affect him.

“It's just a dumb gift... nothing to get all worked up over.” He mutters to himself. But deep down, he can't deny the small excitement that's bubbling inside him. Despite his protests against Valentine’s Day, he can't ignore the fact that someone thought of him and took the time to give him a gift. ‘It's not a big deal. It’s not like I’m into this sappy crap.’ He reminded himself.

Yet, despite his dismissive words, Bakugou can't shake the feeling that maybe, just maybe, Valentine's Day isn't as terrible as he always thought.

A few days after this, Bakugou felt sick. But it wasn’t one of those ‘waking up in the middle of the night to throw up’ type of moments. He was just trying to hang out with the rest of his classmates in the dorms by watching a movie when he suddenly felt disoriented.

Holding a hand over his mouth and the other on his stomach, Bakugou stumbled out from the couch and hobbled down the hall. Unbeknownst to him, Y/n noticed this and watched him disappear with worry etched on her face.

When he finally gets to the bathroom, Bakugou locks the door behind him and clutches the sink, trying to steady himself as dizziness washes over him. His heart is pounding in his chest, and he can feel the sweat trickling down his forehead. He takes a deep breath, trying to regain his composure, but it's no use. The disorientation only worsens, and he knows something is seriously wrong.

“Damn it…” he grits through his teeth.

He stumbles over to the mirror, hoping to catch a glimpse of what's happening, but before he can even process the situation, a fit of violent coughing takes over. He coughs and gags, and with each heave, cherry blossom petals and seeds mixed with blood escape his lips, landing in the sink. The realization hits him like a ton of bricks — he has the infamous Hanahaki Disease which makes the host cough up flower petals due to their feelings of love and the pain of knowing that their love is not reciprocated.

Bakugou’s eyes widen, not knowing what to make of this information. ‘No way... this can't be happening!’ His panicked mind began to race at what seemed like a hundred miles per hour. ‘How could I let myself devolve into a pedal-coughing piece of shit?’ He tries to suppress the coughs, but they keep coming, leaving him weak and breathless. Feeling the heat engulfing him, he rips off his black shirt, discarding it on the floor.

The pain in his chest intensifies, but he will have to hide it from his classmates. He cannot let them know that he has a limited time on this earth. He doesn’t want to be seen as weak by those extras.

Katsuki gathers whatever strength he has left and hobbles over to the toilet, collapsing in front of it. The coughing continues, and he's at a loss for what to do.

Suddenly, there's a gentle knock at the door. “Bakugou?” Y/n spoke up. “Are you okay?”

“Go away,” Bakugou said, wrapping both of his arms around his stomach in hopes to bring the pain down a few notches.

“You don’t sound good… should we bring you to Recovery Girl?” She asked. She must’ve heard him coughing.

“I’m fine. Just go away, dammit!” He growled out a reply. Bakugou can't face her like this. He can't let her see him in such a vulnerable state, especially now that he's realized he has feelings for her.

Reluctantly, Y/n steps away from the door, finally leaving Bakugou alone. “This is all her fault... but damn it, why can't I stop thinking about her?” He thinks out loud, his eyebrows knitting together. This must’ve all started as soon as she gave him that gift on Valentine’s Day. Who knows Bakugou could be so easy?

He never wanted to fall for anyone, but now that he has, he's faced with the reality of possibly dying if Y/n doesn’t like him back. As the story goes, there is one cure and that’s to undergo surgery but there is just one problem: he wouldn’t be able to feel love again. What’s the fun in that?

He has heard stories about this wretched disease, but he never believed them because he always thought the anchorpeople were full of shit. Looks like he’s the fool now.

Bakugou steps away from the toilet and slumps down, sitting on the cold bathroom tile, his back against the bathtub. He covers his face with his hands, feeling defeated and torn. The coughing subsides for now, but the heaviness in his chest remains.

“How the hell am I supposed to talk to her now...?”

The next week or so was rough on Bakugou. Every time he felt like his body was going to betray him and expose him for having the flower disease— which only got progressively worse over time— he excused himself to use the restroom, but there is only so many excuses that he could tell Aizawa and his friend group until they all got suspicious that Bakugou was up to something.

“Hey, Bakubro,” Kirishima rested a hand on his best pal’s shoulder as they walked out of school. “What’s with you, man? You’re hardly ever in class.” He pointed out.

“I’m fine, asshole. I just have more important things than some stupid classes!”

“Are you sure? Because you’ve been leaving in the middle of class a lot and—” before Kirishima could finish his sentence, the blond beside him quickly cut him off.

“I said I'm fine, dammit! Quit hovering around like a mother hen.” Bakugou glared at his friend for a second, wanting him to get the hint that he didn’t want to talk about it. He knows that the excuses he uses won't last forever, especially with his friends now getting suspicious. But he still can’t let them find out about his condition.

Despite his harsh reassurance, Kirishima can tell something is amiss. However, before he can press further, Y/n is suddenly within earshot, walking alongside Uraraka and Deku. Kirishima notices how his friend’s demeanor changes as soon as he spots her, so he decides to back off, sensing that Bakugou might need some space.

When Y/n, Uraraka, Deku finally reach the school’s gate before Bakugou, she stopped in her tracks. “I’ll catch up with you guys later.” She said, holding onto the straps of her backpack tightly.

“Huh? Where are you going, N/n?” Uraraka asked as she and Deku stopped walking to stare at their classmate quizzically.

“I just need to go check on something. Don’t worry about it. It shouldn’t take long!” It took every fiber in Y/n’s body to fight the urge to not glance over her shoulder to look at Bakugou. She didn’t want her friends knowing what she was up to. If there really was something going on with Bakugou, she wants to know about it.

“Okay… safe safe, S/n.” Deku offered her a small smile, waving slightly.

“Will do!”

Turning on her heel too fast for her own good, Y/n soon ends up accidentally colliding with him, their foreheads meeting with a soft thud which caused them to both groan in pain. Bakugou more so given his fragile state, but they are both rightfully taken aback. “Oh my gosh!” Y/n lets out a small gasp. She bows. “I am so sorry!” She immediately apologies.

“It’s nothing. Just forget about it.” He waves it off determinedly, trying to keep the pain and discomfort hidden from her.

But before he can continue, a petal tickles the back of his throat, and he doubles over in a coughing fit. Bloodied flowers escape from his mouth, and he knows he can't hide it any longer. Y/n’s eyes widen at the sight of the blood-filled flowers escaping his lips. “B-Bakugou, what's happening to you?” She stammers.

“It's... nothing. Just a stupid cold.” He lied.

“This doesn't look like a cold, Katsuki…” Y/n crossed her arms over her chest as she slowly started to make her way closer to him. “Please, let me help you. You don't have to keep everything to yourself. So, what’s the matter with you?” She asked.

Bakugou hesitates, realizing that he can't keep his feelings and the Hanahaki Disease hidden anymore. The pain in his chest is unbearable, and he knows he can't deny the truth any longer. “Y/n... I... I have this stupid disease because of you.” He said, softly.

Confused by his words, Y/n’s eyebrows knitted together. “What do you mean, Bakugou?” She questioned.

He paused and stared deeply into her e/c eyes before replying with, “I-I fell for you, damn it! And I can't... I can't stop coughing up these damn flowers because my feelings are killing me.” He admitted.

Tears well up in Y/n's eyes as she processes his confession. She reaches out to hold his hand gently, her heart aching for him. “Katsuki... I had no idea...” she whispers.

“Well, now you know,” Bakugou averted his gaze, growing a bit embarrassed that the cat was now out of the bag. “So, what are you gonna do about it, huh? You gonna tell me to get over it and stop being weak?” He rambled, not even bothered to notice the small smile Y/n tugging on her lips until she took another step closer to him, nearly closing the gap between them.

“No, never. I could never ask you to do that. But… I think I know how to get rid of it.”

Bakugou raises an eyebrow, looking skeptical but intrigued. “Oh, yeah? Go ahead and prove it the—” Before he can finish his challenge, Y/n closes the distance between them and plants a gentle kiss on his lips. Bakugou stiffens at first, caught off guard by her sudden action, but soon he can't resist and closes his eyes, kissing her back.

The world seems to pause around them as they share this intimate moment. Bakugou's heart races and he takes a sharp breath as soon as Y/n pulled him close, but after a moment, there's a sense of relief and warmth that washes over him. He feels a connection he had never experienced before. After a moment, they slowly pull apart.

“There… are you, um, feeling better?” She stammered out, clearly flustered.

Bakugou is taken aback, both by her words and her actions. He never expected her to be so bold and straightforward, but now he realizes that maybe this is the solution he needed all along. “You're an idiot, you know that?” He said, softly.

“Oh, thanks for the compliment.”

“But maybe I'm an even bigger idiot for falling for you…” he looked away once more, reminiscing. “But I don't need your sappy words, but… if you're willing to put up with me, then I guess you can stay.” He added as if Y/n didn’t just save him from certain death.

Y/n playfully rolls her eyes, glad to have somewhat broken through his tough exterior.

“I think I can manage that.”

#hanahaki #hanahaki disease #katsuki bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugou imagine #katuski bakugou #bakugou katuski x reader #bakugou katuski imagine #bakugou katsuki #bnha #mha #anime #manga #mha au #bakugou imagine #bakugou x you #bakugou x reader #bakugou fanfiction

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far-from-official · 9 months ago

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Happy Valentines Day!

Transcript:

"Isn't it beautiful out here?"

Scarab had dragged Prismo outside, far away from home. Many storage cubes full of different sampling equipment sat bunched in Prismo's floating blanket, test tubes and containers, stuff Prismo can't identify by just looking at it sat in those cubes.

"'Suppose so."

Prismo sounded a little bored, but he's seen quite a few of these fields in his very long lifetime. Seen one, you've seen them all. A huge, sprawling flower field. Prismo can't identify a single flower here, even if he tried. Which, to be fair, he won't try. The field was colorful, blindingly so. Yellows, reds, blues, golds. Blobs of every shade of green, sprouting out tall where the flowers hadn't invaded. It reached farther than Prismo's eyesight could render.

Scarab dragged him by the (covered) hand out into it. He mumbles different scientific proposals, things he wants to show to the rest of Wizard City.

Nerd stuff.

Prismo only hears the excited tone of his voice and focuses on that. He quickly fell in more toward Scarab's behavior than what he's actually talking about, finding all the little things he recognizes. Prismo leans on the blanket ball, nodding along like he's listening.

Scarab talks with his hands. Scarab trills and clicks. Scarab watches the ground so he doesn't step on too many flowers at a time.

Prismo gets so distracted that he hadn't realized that Scarab had dropped Prismo's hand, instead actively trying to tug the blanket out from under Prismo.

Prismo lets go of the blanket immediately, stammering out a small excuse.

"You spaced out, didn't you?" Scarab trilled, cutting through his needless excuse. He gently takes the blanket from him, and he spreads it out on the ground.

"Uh, yeah. Sorry." Prismo plays with his turban in his own habit, a nervous tic. Scarab moves each cube to be stacked up all nice and neat, taking out what he needs.

Prismo went to his side immediately, curling into him. His turban was pressed into his back with his legs slung over Scarab's hips, his hands occupying themselves by playing with Scarab's jutting spikes around his chest.

Scarab collected samples despite his limited range of movement, gentle with each flower as he plucked out their pedals and cut stems.

Prismo was instructed to hold things occasionally, pick flowers, go get dirt from the side of that hill over there. He carried them out without much thought, too distracted by watching Scarab at work.

He sat cross legged, stuffing flower petals in some book to dry. Gentle as he turns bleeding stems upside down over a vial and then corking it closed. He whips around excitedly to Prismo, showing him the vial.

"I've never seen this before, look!" He got up with a few creaks and pops in his knees and hips, walking quickly to Prismo despite the clicks coming from his knees. To Prismo, it looked like strawberry jam, as it was bright red with chunks of what looks like seeds. He was far more concerned with Scarab's joints popping like they did.

Scarab was rattling off all of his observations, how the liquid was thick and he thought it was because it was a carnivorous plant, evidenced by the dead flies in the bottom of the plant. Prismo nodded while leading him back over to the blanket, his hand wrapped around Scarab's waist. He knew that Scarab would start hurting soon, based on the sounds of protest his legs were making.

Scarab knew it too, little etches of pain seeping into his voice as he rambled. He walked to the blanket and that's as far as he made it, unable to lower himself down.

When Scarab was in pain, it made bending his knees extremely painful, but standing up straight hurt worse. Prismo looked so concerned, petting his waist in circles, nosing into his neck.

"Y-You can help by lowering me down, Prismo." Scarab knew what he was thinking, holding the backside of the clothed hand on his waist.

"Tell me if I hurt you." Prismo braced himself on Scarab's back, holding him firmly. Slowly, carefully, lovingly, Prismo lowered Scarab to the ground, adjusting the position or moved faster based on Scarab's groans and clicks. The flowers folded underneath Scarab, snapping with loud cracks, bleeding stems soaking the blanket.

Prismo moved out from under him, receiving an upset trill. "What's wrong?" He cupped his mask and Scarab pressed hard into it. "Can you..put your knee under my back and your arm under my head?" He quietly requested, reaching up and holding the hand on his mask.

Prismo whispered delicate affirmations, doing as Scarab said. A mellow chitter left him in pleasure, his pain relieved just a little bit. Prismo thumbed his chest, nosing back into his neck. A mumbled "thank you" left Scarab, who sighed with relief when Prismo's hand shifted to caress Scarab's sore knees.

"I'm sorry our outing was cut short…I didn't mean to get up that quickly." He whispered, shifting his hands to rest over his stomach.

"Mmm..we're still out, aren't we?" Prismo grinned, huffing a giggle against Scarab's cold chitin. "Don't apologize. You were excited, it was cute."

"Ah. Don't call me cute.." Scarab turned his head away, Prismo knows he's not upset. Under his mask, he was sure he was burning up.

"Hush. I like calling you it." He said. "I call it like I see it."

Though, Scarab chattered in pain when Prismo shifted to hold him closer, Prismo frowning and shushing him. "I-I'm sorry–"

Prismo shushed him louder. "Don't apologize. I know you can't help it, and I don't mind holding you through it."

"You don't have to, though."

"I want to. Gives me an excuse to cuddle."

"Like you need an excuse.”

#carmen dreams au #fionna and cake #fanart #adventure time #prismo #adventure time fionna and cake #prismo the wishmaster #prohibited wish #prohibitedwish #the scarab

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witchwyfe · 1 year ago

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cruel summer ii - rc

pairing - (non-canon) Rafe Cameron x female reader

précis - part two of cruel summer !!

content/warnings - mentions of food, mentions of eating, language, kissing, i think that's it

word count - 1,331

a/n - the long-awaited sequel! thank y'all for being so patient i really hope it was worth the wait :)

“Okay, so I have Diet coke, Oreos, and the breadsticks from The Wreck, that you love.” You list of the items that are neatly packed away in your lunchbox from high school, gesturing to the backseat, where said lunchbox is sitting.

“You’re the best.” Rafe flashes you a shiny smile as he hauls himself into your passenger seat. You wait for the click of his seatbelt before pulling out of Tanneyhill’s driveway.

Ever since you and Rafe had talked and acquired your new friendship status, you’d been spending quite a bit of time together—as in the whole summer. You have a week before you’re heading back to school, and it pains both of you more than you’ll ever admit. Tonight’s event is a beach picnic, hence the old lunchbox and blanket in your backseat.

Instead of your usual chatter and occasional banter, Rafe is glued to his phone, a frown etched onto his lips. You glance over once, at a red light, but he doesn’t appear to notice.

“So,” You start, somewhat awkwardly. “How was your day?”

Rafe clicks his phone off, looking up as he clears his throat, the sound husky as it reverberates throughout the car. “My day?” He coughs, red rising on his cheeks. Your foot pushes against the gas pedal so you don’t notice the blushing boy beside you. “Was okay. Worked with my dad.”

You grimace on instinct, wrinkling your nose in a way, Rafe doesn’t want to admit, is cute. “Was he nice to you?”

He laughs half-heartedly. “He was okay. Just the usual.” You frown again and lean over to pat his shoulder, ignoring the uncomfortable twinge in your arm as you bend it back.

“S’fine.” He shakes his head. “Seriously, nothing I can’t handle.”

“You shouldn’t have to handle it.” You murmur, more to yourself than him, but he catches it anyway.

“Well, enough about me.” He pauses to shift in his seat, swallowing down the hesitation that engulfs him. It’s such a simple question—one you’d already asked him—but he can’t help but feel how domestic it is, how sweet that you care enough to ask, to ask and mean it, rather than throwing out a meaningless sentiment. “How was your day?” He croaks out, covering it up with a cough that does nothing to stop more heat from rising on his cheeks.

“Pretty good.” You smile. “Better now. I get so lonely during the summer, I should’ve gotten a job or something. I did go shopping though, on the mainland, had to get up early.” You frown. “Sorry for talking your ear off.

“You’re not!” He expresses immediately. “I like hearing what you have to say.” He could listen to you talk for hours and never get bored, you could say the same sentence a hundred times and he wouldn’t mind, he’s sure your sweet timbre would make it more than bearable.

“Oh,” It’s like the heat has spread from his cheeks to your own. “Thanks Rafe.”

“D’you find a new duvet?” He inquires. “I know you said you wanted a new one before you go back to school.”

“Yeah, I-I, did.” You smile, swallowing over the stutter in your words. “Didn’t realized you remembered.”

“I do actually listen when you talk, ya know?” He teases.

“Could’ve fooled me.” You retort, giggling when he gasps in mock offense.

“Oh right, because you totally listen to everything I tell you.” He argues, playful sarcasm tinting his words.

“Shut up, I do!” You’re laughing again when you pull into the beach parking lot and see Rafe’s pout and crossed arms.

“Oh yeah?” He challenges. “What game was I telling you about yesterday?” He taunts.

You’re silent for a few seconds before he’s shaking his head in disappointment. “See, I knew it!”

“S’not my fault Rafael!” You shriek in attempt to defend yourself. “Baseball’s so boring, I was listening but I forgot.”

“Oh, you forgot?” He eggs you one. “Nice try, sweet girl.”

He processes the nickname two seconds after it fell easily from his lips. You don’t seem to notice so he doesn’t make a deal about it. Seem is the key word, because you didn’t think it was physically possible to want someone so badly, a simple term of endearment sending you into a frenzy. It’s different than the princess, he’d always called you, even now that you’re friends. This wasn’t a tease or a nickname you give to bother someone, it’s sincere and real.

“Okay whatever,” You sigh, reaching into the backseat for the lunchbox and the large beach blanket. “I promise, next time you talk baseball, I’ll take notes so I don’t forget.”

“Gonna get you into baseball someday!” He sing-songs, sidling up to you as soon as you’re both out of the car. “Want me to hold on to your stuff?” He wonders softly, noticing your lack of tote bag.

“Hm, yes please.” You murmur, handing him your wallet and keys. “Thank you.”

The beach as is crowded as you expected, late evening in early August, still hot but cooled just a bit for the incoming sunset. Rafe helps you lay out the blanket before settling right beside you on it.

You pull out two cans of Diet Coke and Rafe’s eyes light up. Surprisingly, you and him also shared an obsession for the soda. He cracks a can for you, then one for himself. You take a generous sip, the crisp carbonation sliding down your throat, deliciously.

As the sky melts into orange and pink sherbert, snacks and diet cokes demolished, you and Rafe sit silently, shoulder to shoulder, his body heat radiating against your skin, even through his t-shirt and your crewneck.

You sit, gathering your nerve, wanting, needing to say something, anything.

“Hey Rafe?” You wonder softly, clearing your throat.

“Hmm?”

“Is it gonna be different?” You’re spitting words out before you can even think of what you mean but you keep going. “Like, since we’re friends now like, are we—“ You cut yourself off with a sigh. “I guess what I mean to say is, will it still be like this when I go back to school?”

“Like, us hanging out? And talking?” He wonders slowly and you nod.

“I just, I’ve had a really good summer with you and I don’t want it to end just because I’m leaving.”

He nods knowingly. “It doesn’t have to.” He assures. “I’ve had a great summer too, and you know, UNC isn’t that far, we can hang out whenever we want.”

You nod. “Cool.”

He nods again and the silence returns, this time charged with something different, unfamiliar, something that’s been building the entire summer, finally enough that you can feel it.

“And one more thing,” You start, building your nerve. When he turns to you, you set your hands on his shoulders and press your lips to his, just once, soft, and delicate.

“Fuck,” You hiss, eyes widening as you search his expression. “I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed, we can just act like it never happened and—“

There’s a magnetic pull between your lips and his, a sigh of relief leaving you when his mouth finally covers yours. Your fingers scramble for purchase on the collar of his shirt, before dancing up to thread through the hair at his nape. His hands are on fire at your sides, skimming underneath your sweatshirt, rough palms meeting smooth, soft skin.

“That was more than okay, sweetheart.” He grins crookedly when you pull back, lips wet and swollen. “Long time coming I think.”

“Yeah.” You sigh, curling into his side. “I’m gonna miss you.”

“I’m gonna visit you.” He promises with a kiss. “As much as you want. You’re going to be sick of me.”

“Not possible.” You shake your head. “I think I had enough of that the last ten years of my life. I want to get as much of you as I can.”

“You have me sweetheart, all of me.”

#mine #my work #my writing #witchwyfe writing #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x female reader #rafe cameron oneshot #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron fanfic #outer banks fanfiction #rafe cameron blurb #cruel summer pt 2 #rafe cameron obx #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron x reader

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