#well I don’t know how to manage my big feelings and I’m scared of them | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

jeonstudios · 3 months ago

Text

fontana di trevi | 01

you seek out a vampire to help you with something.

pairing: vampire!jk x sadgirl, blood donor!reader

genre: vampire au, angst, fluff (really a sadgirl fic lol)

word count: 7.6k

warnings: blood, needles, talking about how you euthanize cows and such? suicidal thoughts (not graphic or elaborated? very straightforward?)

rating: NC-17 – Adults Only

masterlist

part 1/2

It’s a freezing cold December night when you step into the dark alleyway, your thighs having gone numb under your jeans a while ago. The sun set hours ago, and the only light present is that of a few scattered streetlights.

Your pulse quickens as you take another cautious step. Something moves further in, where the light barely reaches, and since there’s no snow yet, you hear the slight crunch of frozen fall leaves under… footsteps. From the dark, a tall figure approaches slowly in a way that would have anyone’s blood chilling.

“I have a proposition,” you state, trying to stand somewhat tall.

"A proposition?” a low voice inquires, and you have to tilt your head up to look at the face that emerges from the shadows. “I’ll fuck you, but I’m not turning you for sex.”

“That’s not what—I don’t want sex or to be turned.”

He directs his full attention to you, and in turn, you get a better glimpse of his features. He looks like a man; incredibly handsome with jet black hair, eyebrows, and eyes, but his skin is paler than anything you’ve seen, and there’s the tiniest smudge of something red tinting the corner of his mouth. Though his eyebrow is raised, he doesn’t look very entertained.

“You can have my blood. All of it, if you just take it quickly.”

He lifts his hand to slowly wipe the red from his face. The outfit he wears—a black leather jacket and black pants—looks human but is definitely too cold to wear this time of year.

“What makes you think I wouldn’t simply take it if I wanted to? Why would I need your permission?”

“I’m just saying. Take it if you want it?”

He looks at you, seemingly at least a little intrigued by the odd human in front of him. You definitely understand that most people run the other way at the sight of this big, intimidating being.

“You realize ‘all of it’ means you’ll be dead, right?”

You nod. “Do we have a deal?”

“Regardless of if I wanted to or not, I literally just… ate, so I physically can’t. Not for another week or so.”

You feel your shoulders drop slightly, and you blink, trying to improvise a plan.

“Okay, well… Do you want to meet here in a week, then?”

At that, he tilts his head. “You want to die here, in a dirty alleyway?”

“I don’t care. So yes or no?”

“If you want me to do this, give me something in return first, okay?”

You look at him in confusion. “You’re getting my blood?”

“Who's to say your blood is even good?”

Trying not to let his words discourage you, you look around, thinking. Maybe you should’ve played harder to get? At least in the sense of giving him a hunt? You don’t want to waste any time, but he might not be your best option.

“Fine, do you know if there are other vampires around here? How do I find them?”

It took you three weeks to even find this one, and maybe it was more luck than anything, so setting off on another search doesn’t sound too exciting. These creatures really do live in the shadows.

“No, listen. Whether your blood is delicious or not, it would certainly be helpful to have it. But…”

“But?”

“Let me stock up on it first. Meet me at my place and let me take some every week for two months and then I’ll take the rest.”

You look around again, unsure if you should just try to find someone else. Two months is not ideal; it’s too long, and you’re sure you could manage to find someone else in the meantime.

The vampire senses your hesitation and takes a step closer.

“You want it to be quick, which means you’re scared of pain. People around here, my kind, tend to drag it out. Pain and fear equal adrenalin, which gives the blood a certain… flavor that some enjoy. Agree to my compromise, and I’ll make it quick and practically painless.”

He gives you the smallest of smiles, barely a hint of one, but it feels wicked and makes a cold shiver run down your spine. You know he’s not trustworthy, but he’s getting a lot out of the deal, and you have nothing to lose, really.

“Okay. What’s the address?”

In the middle of the day a week later, you find yourself in front of a big two-story house. It’s nice, looks pretty expensive but… like a regular house? It’s painted white and definitely not blood-red or even black. Aligning more with your expectations is how the house is partially obscured from the road by huge, towering spruces and how it seems to lie just a little bit further from the neighboring houses. There’s a thin layer of snow on the ground now, but you’re not sure whether it’ll stick.

After confirming that no, there is no door bell, you lift your fist to knock on the door. Vampires have crazy good hearing anyway, right? You’d assume so, given the fact that they’re always portrayed as super fast, super strong, super… attractive, and with super hearing, super vision, just… super all around. The mythical creatures don’t officially exist to the world, but in your little town, everyone knows they do. And they do. You found one. So if they drink blood and are super attractive—at least this one—it’s not too weird to assume there’s more truth to their pop-culture portrayal.

You can see how the town’s vampire believers and enthusiasts shake their heads in disappointment at your relative indifference, but truth be told, you’d probably be more curious about the vampire whose home you’re about to step into if the situation was different. Or maybe you’d have some self-preservation and run the other way?

The door opens almost soundlessly, and when you look up, you meet those black, bottomless eyes. It really is his color, you think, your gaze drawn to the short-sleeve, black button-down he’s wearing, the top three buttons or so left undone. With it, he’s wearing black pants on the looser side. He looks incredibly handsome, and very effortlessly so. His hair is shiny and looks soft, and like it naturally falls into that slight side-part.

“Are you gonna come in or just stand there and ogle me?” He isn’t smiling teasingly; he just looks at you, unimpressed.

“Sorry.”

He turns to retreat back into the house, and you’re left to enter through the open door. There are no lights on inside, and when you close the door behind you, cutting off a majority of the daylight, you start to feel like you’re truly inside a vampire’s home. Still, it’s light enough for you to follow said vampire’s back after hastily removing your coat and folding it to leave over the boots you step out of. Since you assumed he needs access to the veins in your arms, you picked out a gray t-shirt and a black zip-up hoodie that’s a little too big on you, paired with jeans. Nothing fancy—you’re not there to impress him.

With quickened steps, you catch up to him as he wordlessly leads the way into his kitchen, a place you doubt he uses much. Vampires don’t actually eat, do they? Either way, the room is clean and feels almost... sterile, despite the walnut cupboards and dark gray countertops.

On the short end of a wide, matching walnut dining table, a bunch of supplies are laid out. He gestures to one of the two chairs positioned around the corner of the table, but as you sit down, he turns to leave.

“Uhm, I don’t know how to do this,” you admit, pulling the zipper of your hoodie down and slipping one arm out. “I mean, I’m sure it can’t be that complicated in… theory, but I don’t think I can do it on myself.”

“I’m just gonna wash my hands,” he explains, and there seems to be a very slight trace of emotion in his voice and on his face that you interpret as amusement. He thinks you're dumb.

Oh. Well… does it really matter if his hands are squeaky clean or not?

Water hits the sink with a familiar sound as you focus on the table, inspecting the supplies. There’s a needle with a tube attached to it, a tourniquet, some syringes, antiseptic wipes, and a few empty blood bags. A voice in your head wonders if maybe he changed his mind and will simply take everything at this moment because those bags look pretty big, and you’re not sure you can fill them and still walk out of this place.

The water stops, and you sit pretty and wait until he positions the other chair in front of you, a little to the side. You’ve never been a fan of needles or having your blood drawn, so you focus your eyes the other way, to a specific part of his kitchen window and the overcast outside. You hear the sound of paper and plastic ripping, and you feel his cold fingers place and tighten the tourniquet around your upper arm and feel for your veins before he wipes the area clean.

“Scared of needles?” he teases arrogantly, and you see how he reaches for the sharp object on the table.

“Bodily reaction. I can’t help it,” you explain before holding your breath and waiting for the poke.

It comes soon after; an uncomfortable but not too painful prick. With one hand, he moves some things around on the table, and you try to keep as still as possible, loathing the feeling of a needle jolting around in your vein.

“You’re not curious as to why I know how to do this stuff? Or worried that I don’t?” he wonders, releasing the tourniquet and seemingly fastening the needle to your skin with some tape.

“No. I guess it doesn’t surprise me; blood and vampires seem to go hand in hand.”

He surprises you by letting out a quiet chuckle before placing a red stress ball in your hand. “Squeeze this. I’ll be back to change the bag in a few minutes.”

Nodding, you watch him rise from his chair and leave the room.

Left to your own devices and with the filling blood bag taped to the chair’s armrest by its thin tube, you close your eyes.

The house is entirely silent, and you have no idea where the vampire went. After he moved the stuff around on the table, you were able to count exactly three blood bags with a printed 450 ml on them. That adds up to somewhere between one and one and half liters and around 30% of your blood volume if you’ve calculated correctly. According to your brief research, a human doesn’t typically survive losing more than 40% of their blood unless given emergency medical attention. You probably won’t feel too great after today, but you most likely won’t die. You think.

Slowly, the minutes start to tick by, but you feel okay so far. You’ve got a good rhythm going for the stress ball, squeezing, holding, releasing. Squeezing, holding, releasing. The silence has your mind wandering.

“You can stop for a bit.”

The vampire’s sudden voice has your eyes flying open. He hadn’t made a single sound, returning to the kitchen. Catching your breath, you nod, keeping the ball still in your hand. You don’t look at the needle in your arm, but you see the bag full of dark red that the vampire sits down and trades for an empty one, attaching the tubes before he fastens them in the same way to the armrest.

When he’s done, he lifts his hand, and you spot one of his fingertips covered in red. For a split second, he observes it, and then he puts the finger to his tongue. At first, it’s weird to see, and you almost want to tell him that it’s not hygienic to taste other people’s blood. That is before you remember that other people’s blood is what sustains him.

He looks to be assessing something, and suddenly, you’re worried he might not like it.

“B positive," he focuses on you, but you give him a slight, confused shrug because you have no idea what blood type you are or what it means in this context.

“Is that… okay?”

“It’s… meh. Not the most common but also not the rarest. Most of my kind prefer A or even AB, though.”

“Oh."

Of course, your blood is substandard. You nod toward the filled bag on the table. “Will you have any use for this then?”

Truly, it would be just your luck to not even have the scary creatures, who roam the night in search of victims to drain, want your blood.

“Yeah. Doesn’t matter. I can always use it as a backup if I don’t get the chance to feed in time. Squeeze.”

Per his order, you resume squeezing. The rest of the process goes relatively smoothly, although you’ve started feeling a lot… weaker by the time the second bag is full and the vampire is about to switch it for the third.

There’s a lot about blood and the human body that you don’t know, and you’re silently wondering what the recovery rate is and if you can really give him this much every week. Does he plan on taking less next time or has he not taken it into consideration?

“Why do you want to die?”

You blink at his bluntness, looking at his uncaring face. He obviously doesn’t care to hear the longer story, and you don’t care to tell it, so you settle for a shorter, more condensed version.

“There’s something wrong with me. I don’t belong here.”

“Didn’t taste like it.”

“Maybe not physically.”

He doesn’t dig further, but when your blood starts trickling into the third bag, the vampire stays seated. You still close your eyes, afraid that you’ll stare at his face otherwise, and he didn’t particularly seem to like that.

You’re not sure if it’s just the blood loss or a combination of having slept poorly for the last few weeks and being in a calm, silent environment, but you’re feeling tired. Really tired. And cold.

“Squeeze harder,” his voice instructs, void of emotion. You do your best to follow his instructions, squeezing the ball tighter even though it’s getting difficult.

“We’re done.”

You open your eyes, finding the vampire much closer than before and his fingers swiftly removing the needle from your arm.

“Okay, so… uh…” you start, finding it hard to choose words or even think of what you want to convey in the first place. “Do I come back… same time… next week?”

“No. Make it two weeks.”

You look at him, confusion written across your features, but it’s hard to focus your eyes on his face. It’s blurry, and there are dark spots infiltrating your vision.

“I took as much as I could, and while you won’t have time to replenish everything in two weeks either, I’ll at least get more out of you than in just one week.”

He smiles, and if you had the energy and maybe (mostly) the common sense, you’d be scared by the way he truly looks so wicked.

“Okay. I’ll see you then.”

The vampire takes the stress ball from you and rises from the chair with the used supplies in his hands. You grip the armrests best you can, but your right hand slips, and you stumble a little, trying to stand. It’s so incredibly cold, and you feel dizzy, nauseous, and weak, putting your hoodie back on properly.

Very quietly, you hear him move around the kitchen, and while he hasn’t explicitly told you to leave, you’re very much assuming he wants nothing else. So on unsteady legs, you make your way back to the front door, where you grab your coat to haphazardly put it on, and you step into your boots, unable to bend down to tie them properly.

You’re able to make it to your old but trustworthy car that you parked on the street, but when you sit down in the driver’s seat and close the door behind you, you realize that you definitely can’t drive as it’s proving more and more difficult to even keep your eyes open. You can’t walk home, you have no one to come pick you up, and even if there probably is a bus stop somewhere around here, you don’t think you’d make it there.

So with your last burst of energy, you pull the lever under the seat to push it back a little, leaving your boots on the floor as you bring your feet and knees up. Your coat finds a new purpose as a makeshift blanket, and you cover as much of your body as you can with it. Fully knowing that as you close your eyes, you might never open them again, you don’t care that much. Dying is what you want, anyway.

Surprisingly, you do open your eyes again. It’s dark when you do, and it’s so, so cold. Your heart is beating hard as it tries to circulate blood that just isn’t there anymore, and it’s with a low groan that you move, trying to reach for the phone in the pocket of your coat.

It’s seven p.m.. You met with the vampire at two p.m., and the visit took less than an hour, which means that you got into your car at maybe a bit before three, and so you’ve been passed out for four hours. It takes you a while to come to properly, and even when you do, you feel weak, groggy, and stiff. Ideally, you shouldn’t drive, but you have no other means of getting home, so you decide on a route consisting of smaller roads with lower speed limits and less traffic.

It’s no wonder you feel like you’re on death’s doorstep because when you do some further Googling on blood donation and blood volumes at home, you calculate exactly how much someone of your size would have. And you find that the vampire took 38% of that.

Three weeks later, you’re knocking on his door again. He opens it, an eyebrow raised and looking even more unimpressed than last time.

“I’m sorry I didn’t show last week, but I was sick,” you inform, hoping he’ll accept your apology. “Didn’t think you would’ve wanted to see… that.”

“You’re right.”

That’s all he says before he turns, leaving the door open for you just like last time. Well, you take that as a sign that you’re forgiven, and so you follow him inside.

Trying to keep up with him, you’re feeling even smaller and weaker around the tall vampire than before, and truth be told, you are. Because according to those Google searches, while it takes the body only approximately 24-48 hours to replace the blood plasma, it takes four to six weeks to replenish the red blood cells and recover fully. And that’s from having one bag of 450ml donated; you left three and it’s only been three weeks since. Essentially, the vampire is taking your blood a lot faster than you can produce it.

Like last time, you sit down on the same chair in his kitchen, but since he wasn’t expecting you, he has to retrieve the supplies from elsewhere. You remain quiet while he organizes everything, stealing a few glances at him in the meantime. This time, he’s wearing a black t-shirt and black shorts, and you’re amazed at just how… ordinary he looks. In the best way possible, of course.

Without being too tight, the shirt does a very good job at showing off his physique: it hangs wonderfully off his shoulders and dips slightly between his pecs. It exposes the prominent veins stretching across both his arms and hands, and you wonder if vampires also ‘live’ in the way that he has a heart that pumps blood around his body. Or if he’s really ‘dead’ or ‘undead’ like some media describe them?

“What?” he questions, having caught you staring.

“You look very human,” you say quietly. “Like a college guy.”

An athletic college guy. The one who’s just a little too handsome to be exact.

The trace of amusement that flashes across his face is so faint that you’re not sure you didn’t simply imagine it. He doesn’t respond to your observation, only sitting down and reaching for your arm. His large hands feel a little warmer against your skin than you remember them doing last time, and you turn your head when he prepares the needle. There’s a pinch and then the immediate relief when he loosens the tourniquet.

“Here,” the red stress ball is placed into your hand again. Looking down briefly, you watch your own hand squeeze it, but the red fluid flowing through the transparent tube is too off-putting, and so you close your eyes again.

A minute or so passes while you keep squeezing the ball to some sort of rhythm tied to your breaths. It won’t be long. Soon, everything will be over.

Somewhere, you lose track of time, and to regain some sense of reality, you flutter your eyelids open. Only to see the vampire stare coldly at you. You freeze.

“I thought you left,” you admit, the surprise clear in your voice.

“I’m keeping an eye on you,” he explains, face still stoic.

You look at him dumbly. “No offense, but why? The point is to kill me, anyway?”

“No, it’s to take as much as possible,” he corrects you. “To a reasonable extent. And then kill you. Here, let me change the bag.”

You close your eyes once more as he switches the full bag to a new, empty one. The dizziness comes a lot quicker than it did three weeks ago, but then again, you’ve been feeling more or less weak and faint ever since that first donation.

“Okay, we’re done.”

You look at him, surprised. “Already? But you didn’t even fill the second bag fully?”

“I took too much last time, and like I said, I want to get as much out of you as possible.”

For the first time, you think you see a hint of a discreet fang when he gives you a blood-chilling smile.

The process of removing everything is quick, and before you know it, you’re putting your feet into your boots again. You feel faint, like your knees might buckle under you any second, but you don’t feel weak to the point of passing out for hours in your car; you do that when you’re home in bed instead.

Suffering from what you gather is immense anemia, you don’t have the energy to really do anything between your visits to the vampire besides lie on the couch and watch TV. You quit your retail job the Monday after finding him in that alleyway, confident (and correctly so) that you wouldn’t be able to handle really any job at all.

Even rotting away on the couch with your eyes glued to the screen, you can barely understand what the shows are about. Your brain struggles to place the people and remember the plot lines, and you find yourself almost daydreaming instead. Though it’s mostly just flashing images of the vampire whose name you still don’t know.

If your heart wasn’t already so strained, it would beat harder for him in some kind of fear-filled attraction. He’s absolutely gorgeous—and there’s definitely something almost drawing you to him—but he’s also so, so intimidating. If the end goal wasn’t to die, you’d for sure be running for the hills and looking over your shoulder late at night.

Next time, there’s a slight smile pulling on the vampire’s lips when he opens the door.

“Still alive?”

You chuckle quietly, looking down at your boots. “Unfortunately.”

Taking off your coat reveals another simple outfit with no other purpose than granting the vampire access to your arms while keeping your freezing body warm. This time, it’s a thick, brown cardigan over a t-shirt, paired with somewhat baggy jeans.

The contrast between your clothes is almost funny. Even indoors, you’d be freezing in the half-open thin, white dress shirt he wears messily tucked into black, also thin-looking slacks. The gap in his shirt makes you want to reach out and touch his pale chest, but of course, you keep your hands to yourself.

Once again, you follow him inside, and while you don’t need him to, he guides you to the same spot in his kitchen where the stuff is all laid out.

Sitting down, you slip your arm out of the cardigan and place it on the armrest. The vampire washes his hands and then comes to sit down in front of you, reaching for the tourniquet to position it around your bicep. With the elastic band tightened, he rips open an antiseptic wipe to clean the inside of your elbow, and then, he prepares the needle like always.

You look away, holding your breath until the pinch comes and for a few seconds after.

“The whole thing about vampires losing control around blood… I take it that’s just storytelling?”

“Depends,” he answers, and despite not looking at him, you just know he’s got one eyebrow raised and a hint of a cocky smile on his lips. “If we’re hungry and someone happens to bleed around us, yeah, it can be more… tempting. Also depends on what sort of blood we prefer.”

“And you don’t like mine,” you state, your foggy brain concluding it the reason he seems to not care about the vulnerable blood right in front of him.

He laughs this time, a really nice sound that has your strained heart almost skipping an important beat. “I changed my weekly feeding to Thursdays, so I’m still quite full. And your blood isn’t vile, it’s just not what I personally go crazy for.”

“Oh,” you let out, looking at him before something dawns on you. “Wait. You eat once a week only? How much do you eat then? Or… drink?”

He nods toward the bag he just secured to your arm. “Someone of my size typically only needs about two of these a week to survive and not maniacally hunt and kill, but to really thrive? Between two and three liters, so four to six bags. I usually go hunting Friday or Saturday night when most bars and pubs are full. It’s surprisingly easy to find a few drunks stumbling around who won’t even realize what happened the day after.”

“So you don’t… kill?”

“Not if we can help it. There’s been… an increase in vampires around here, and if people drop dead? No, it’s less suspicious and only a little more work to find a few victims instead of draining one dry.”

“Makes sense.”

“Mhm. I typically don’t have to beg women to come with me, either.”

Something ice cold travels through your body at that last sentence. You wonder whose blood was on his lips that night when you found him.

“I can’t believe you’re telling me this, though? You seem like you’d tell me to mind my own business.”

Even more, you can’t believe you asked.

He smiles. “I don’t know. Like I said, people will occasionally find out what I am, find me fascinating, and ask a thousand questions. I’ve always thought it to be incredibly annoying, and I’m not really supposed to tell them anything even if I wanted to—which I don’t—but it’s been… odd, not being questioned by you. At all. Almost boring, like I’m not interesting to you.”

His answer surprises you, and for a moment, you imagine teenage you, not bubbly per se but at least a bit more naive than the current version. Would she be the type to annoy him? You don’t think so.

“Objectively, you are interesting, but I can’t believe how brave people are? If things were different, I wouldn’t have gone out looking for a vampire in the first place. And if I somehow stumbled upon you, I would’ve run the other way because you’d terrify me.”

Slowly, he smirks at your honesty.

“I scare you?”

You’d be lying if you claimed the cold, calculating aura around him didn’t.

You’re not sure if he has any super powers like in the movies, but honestly, he wouldn’t need to be able to lift a bus to kill you. The scariest thing about him isn’t how he could end your life in a hundred different ways either way, it’s how he could drag it out and extend your suffering before doing so. Of course, your body and instincts find him scary, but in a way, your mind… doesn’t? Then again, you’re here because your mind wants him to kill you.

“I don’t know.”

“Hm,” is all he says, his eyes falling to the blood bag. “I have to change it. Hold on.”

“Okay,” you mumble, finding it hard to concentrate. Your heart beats so hard it hurts, but at the same time, your breathing is slowing down. Closing your eyes, you feel him move stuff around.

“How are you feeling?” he suddenly asks, but it doesn’t sound like he cares too much.

“Honestly? Terrible,” you admit, keeping your eyes closed.

You keep still when you feel his hands on your arm, but then you hear a little… rip.

“Fuck.”

Curiously, you open your tired eyes, seeing the vampire hold the empty bag up to inspect it.

“This was the last one I had. This brand is fucking terrible quality; how do you make blood bags so weak they rip?”

“You don’t have anything else to collect it in?”

He sighs defeatedly, “No, it needs to be in these kinds of bags so I can store and freeze it properly.”

“Oh. Okay.”

“I’ll have to stock up on them and maybe take more next time.”

You nod slowly and understandingly. That will probably be the last time, then.

About a week and a half later, you find yourself on a bench downtown, your hands in the pockets of your coat to keep them warm. It’s Saturday, and on the other side of the street, a few people are standing in line to be let inside your town’s best version of a nightclub. You’re not certain what exactly brought you here, and you’re sure that if the happy, club-dressed people took the time to observe their surroundings, they’d notice you staring and look at you weirdly in turn.

“Hello?”

Registering the almost rude-sounding voice, you blink as you turn your head. It’s a guy.

“Huh?”

His face looks skeptic, and he’s got his hands in the front pockets of his jeans. He’s not wearing a jacket or coat of any kind over his white t-shirt, so you gather he’s in the middle of a night out. Probably left a bar for a smoke and spotted you.

“I asked you what your name is? Like three times?”

He’s good looking with black hair and dark eyes, but the tone of his voice is very unattractive, and you have no interest in him whatsoever, knowing he isn’t just looking to be your friend.

“Oh. Uh…”

You don’t say it. It’s not that you don’t remember your name or that you’re making a conscious effort to deny him the information, but it’s like your thoughts are at a standstill.

“Beat it.”

You furrow your eyebrows in confusion. His lips didn’t move.

“And who are you?” he asks, irritation dripping from his words, and this time, his lips are moving. However, his eyes are not on you but on something behind you.

Just as you’re about to turn around, the man in front of you leaves. His steps are quick, his mission abandoned.

“What are you doing here?”

Of course. It clicks the moment the vampire comes into view, and you’re surprised you didn’t immediately recognize his deep voice. He’s wearing that same leather jacket and some black pants, an outfit still very much inappropriate for winter. Though, something about him feels… wilder, almost a little uncontained? You can’t put your finger on what exactly.

“Uh, people-watching,” you inform as he rounds the bench, sitting down next to you.

Because he’s beautiful like no other, you glance discreetly at his face. He’s so masculine, but in certain lights, you glimpse something softer. You particularly like his nose and its rounded tip. It gives him such an attractive profile, you think, gaze traveling over his features and lingering on his dark eyelashes.

“Why? Isn’t it cold as hell for you?”

“Uhm, I don’t know? And I guess?”

From looking straight ahead, he turns his head, redirecting his full attention to you. The light from the closest street lamp reflects in his dark eyes.

“Is there any truth to that whole ‘vampires are designed to lure humans in’ thing?”

He grins. “I lure you in?”

“You’re more intimidating than you are attractive, actually,” you admit earnestly, wincing a little on the inside at how it came out a bit like an insult. He’s definitely attractive, and maybe the fact that he is so attractive is part of why he’s also so intimidating. “I’m just wondering what you looked like before.”

“I’ve always looked like this,” he explains casually, once again peering out over the cold, dark street. “Vampirism doesn’t change anything besides, like, skin impurities and conditions. I would’ve shown you a picture, but there were no cameras around when I was human,” he smiles cheekily.

“Anyway, you should go home. It’s really cold and not really safe at this time either,” he encourages.

You nod, realizing that he wants to protect his backup supply. “Yeah.”

“Good. I’ll see you next week.”

“Mhm.”

You expect him to get up and leave, confused when five seconds pass and he hasn’t moved. The feeling seems to be mutual because he turns his head to look at you again.

“So, are you leaving or not?”

“I am.”

“Then what are you waiting for?”

You look away, clearing your throat a bit awkwardly and realizing that you might just have to tell him, since he doesn’t seem to be leaving before you. “I don’t think I… can. I walked here, but I think I overestimated myself.”

The vampire looks you over briefly, probably just to be sure, but you both know that your main health concerns aren’t visible.

“Where do you live?”

“Oh, not that far. Like less than a ten minute walk, but I…”

“What’s your address?”

“124 Conch Street.”

“Stand up.”

“What?”

“Stand up.”

Puzzled, you follow his instructions and slowly rise to your feet. Though you’ve been sitting stranded on the bench for almost two hours, the dizziness returns the moment you stand.

But the vampire isn’t satisfied. “Get up on the bench and undo your coat up to your waist.”

This time, you give him a skeptic look.

“Just do as I say,” he holds his hand out for you.

Slowly and still confused, you take it, and with his aid, you step up onto the bench.

To your surprise, he lets go, and before you know it, he’s unzipped your coat from the bottom up to your waist, positioned himself in front of you, and grabbed your thighs. Instinctively, you place your arms around his neck as he hoists you onto his back and starts walking.

“What are you doing?” you breathe quietly.

“Taking you home in an inconspicuous way. It looks like we’re a couple, does it not?”

“Definitely an odd and unexpected couple if so, but I guess?”

“You’re a pretty girl, you know?”

Your lungs hold your breath for an extra second before slowly releasing it, and then you hum, but it’s only to actually provide him with an answer. You definitely don’t think you’re anywhere near pretty enough for someone like him. He doesn’t call you out on your vague answer.

You’re not the most common sight, couple or not, and people still watch you as you pass them. Unsure as to how to meet their curious gazes, you don’t; turning your head forward instead. When you’re so close, you inevitably catch his scent, only to find that he doesn’t smell like a whole lot. There are traces of soap, laundry detergent, and maybe a hint of cologne, but not much else. No lingering smell of sweat or anything like that.

He walks you through the city and past the alleyway where you first found him. It’s quiet, except for the muted sound of his footsteps as well as those of a man a bit ahead, evidently hurrying to get home and away from the cold.

“Are there more vampires here?” you wonder, looking around the silent street and thinking it might not be as empty as it seems.

“Yes,” he confirms casually.

It has your brain working, and the surroundings reminding you of why you’re with him in the first place.

“How are you going to kill me?”

If he’s caught off guard by your straightforward question, he does a good job of not showing it.

“I don’t know.”

“Okay. But I’d rather not bleed out,” you say, body aching at the mere thought. Although you’re certain there are much worse ways to go, you really don’t like the feeling of severe blood loss.

“It’s the easiest way though,” he explains. “It’s not as easy to drain a body without a heartbeat to move the blood around.”

“Are you familiar with livestock?” you ask, thinking back to what your three-year-older cousin once told you as you biked past a field of cows one summer when you were ten. “You can kill the animal and then ‘deblood’ them by hanging the body upside down and cutting their throat. The blood will drain easily. Do you have a bathtub?”

“You’re… a person though, still,” he says, and though he doesn’t falter in his steps, you can tell your words don’t sit quite right with him. “There’s no dignity in an ending like that. And don’t you care what happens to your body?”

To say you’re surprised is an understatement. You thought vampires were all bloodthirsty monsters, only biding their time until they can rip someone new apart. The messier, the better. The vampire, who’s carrying you on his back, made no effort to appear nice either. At least not at first. Now, you don’t even know.

You shrug slightly. You’re not a spiritual person, and you’ve never believed in something like an afterlife. “It’s just meat and bones. I won’t be here anymore, and no one’s going to be looking for me, anyway. There’s no use in keeping things ‘pretty.’”

He doesn’t say anything in turn, and you wonder how much about you he knows. How much about your life he realizes.

The vampire’s smooth movement lulls you further into relaxation, and you lean your head partly against your own arm, partly against him. He doesn’t say anything.

Way sooner than if you would’ve walked with your own two legs—if you would’ve made it home at all—he puts you down in front of your apartment complex. You search your pockets, locating your keys in the left one.

“Going home now? Since you can’t enter without permission,” you joke tiredly, unlocking the front entrance with the key fob.

The vampire raises his eyebrows. “I might as well make sure you don’t somehow trip and spill all my blood on the way to your apartment,” he smirks, grabbing the door and opening it wide without breaking eye contact. “And you shouldn’t believe everything you see or read.”

The smile he’s wearing as he makes a show out of stepping inside the building is another chilling one. You can’t say that you expected him to hit an invisible wall or anything, but for some reason, it would’ve almost felt… nice if that were the case. Considering your situation, you’re not sure why.

The elevator is empty and waiting for you, and after getting inside, you press the button for floor two, the vampire coming to stand beside you.

“Is there anything that is true regarding vampires?” you ask quietly as if someone would hear you inside the elevator.

“Besides the fact that we drink blood?”

“Yeah. Are you like, immortal and stuff? Super old?”

He chuckles. “Kinda. I don’t think anything’s truly immortal, but we do have a longer life span, yes.”

“What about senses? Can you hear my heart beat right now?”

“Yes. It sounds like it’s about to burst through your chest.”

Yeah, because it’s strained to hell and back, trying to keep you alive even in the condition you’re in.

“And super speed, super strength and all that?”

“Mhm, although we’re not so fast we go blurry. Are you impressed?”

“I don’t know? What do you use it for? I can’t think of even one thing having those powers would improve in my life.”

“Tough crowd,” he chuckles, avoiding your question as he follows you out of the elevator.

You understand that being physically superior is helpful when you’re a literal predator, and yeah, maybe being able to walk a tiny bit faster to work every morning would’ve saved you some time, but what else? Oh, yeah, one time, you had to throw away a jar of pickles because you simply could not get it open. Being stronger would’ve definitely helped you then.

Reaching your door, you’re quick to unlock it and pull it open to head inside, ignoring the two envelopes lying on the floor in your hallway. The vampire stays at the door, watching as you start to remove your coat two or so steps away from him.

“Are those… bruises?”

Turning your head as you make your way to the wardrobe to put the coat away, you see the vampire looking almost worried. You look down at the skin on your arms.

“Yeah.”

“Let me look at them,” he urges, holding his hand out.

“Why? They come with anemia; why does it matter?”

“Still, I want to see. Come over here.”

Despite looking oddly insistent, he makes no effort to actually enter your apartment.

Your eyes widen as you look at him. “You really can’t come inside without an invitation, can you?”

He sighs exasperatedly. “Technically, no, I can’t step inside unless you give me permission.”

It makes you laugh a little in wonder. “Wow.”

He rolls his eyes, but you can tell it amuses him a little too.

“Listen, I’ll be fine until we meet again and if the bruises are still there, you can look at them then. I kinda don’t actually want to invite you in, is that rude of me?”

“No, it’s not. Very reasonable, actually.”

“Okay, then I’ll see you Friday?”

He nods politely and steps back. “See you.”

You watch him leave, his footsteps sounding through the hall as you bend down to pick up the envelopes you’ve been ignoring for days. They’re probably bills, and you’ll be dead soon, so who really cares if you pay them or not?

Mindlessly, you approach the door to close it, your focus on the white paper in your hands. You put your finger under the fold to rip the first envelope open, wincing when the paper cuts through your skin instead.

Holding your finger up, you inspect the damage and the little bead of red that’s forming next to the invisible cut. You look at it, furrowing your eyebrows at how you feel like something’s… missing? A moment later, you realize what it is, and your body freezes.

The footsteps have stopped.

It dawns on you, as you look at the blood, what the vampire was actually doing tonight and why he looked wilder than usual. Early Saturday night, lurking around the clubs until he found you and had to abandon his plans.

He was hunting.

Your eyes widen and your heart stops as you hear it. One footstep. Then another. And another. They’re speeding up, and soon enough running toward you.

Before you’ve had a chance to shut the door, it flies wide open. Panicked, you move farther into the apartment, but you fall backward and by pure instinct, crawl back as quickly as you can.

Despite claiming that he couldn’t enter without your permission, the vampire falls to his knees, then all fours, to reach you. You’ve never seen anything as scary as the bloodthirsty creature grasping the air, trying to get you. He moves so quickly, and his hand is just about to grab your foot when it’s like… he’s held back by something.

You're breathing heavily, trying to understand what’s happening. Why doesn’t he just move another three centimeters? He licks his lips in frustration, exposing fangs that are definitely longer than you remember. Meeting his eyes, they’re cold like never before, and he exhales angrily. He’s still reaching for you, and frozen in your spot, you look over at him, briefly wondering if his feet got stuck or something when it hits you.

He can’t step inside.

You sit there, your feet mere centimeters from his grasping hand when there’s a sound down the hall, and in a split second, the vampire seems to snap out of it. He looks at you, appearing to realize what he’s doing and somehow gaining control over himself. Looking around, he gets up, and he leaves. Quickly and without a word.

Wide-eyed and with your heart beating painfully, you remain on the floor, wondering what the hell just happened. Even when his footsteps are long gone, you’re too afraid to get up and close the door, worried that he’ll return and be able to reach you.

You’d like a very serious word with whoever established the ‘no entering without permission’ rule but also decided that the vampires could cheat it by keeping their feet outside and crawling inside.

You sleep a little uneasy the following nights, thinking a lot. Of course, your thoughts are mostly occupied by those cold, black eyes, thirsty for your blood.

<previous | next> happy halloween <3<3

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pastryfication · 6 months ago

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Heyy I loved your cochlear implant story! I was hoping you could do something similar where reader has really bad eyesight if she's not got her glasses on? It's a big fear of mine bc I can hardly recognize different faces without my glasses 😊🤞

the thick lenses help you navigate a world that would otherwise be a blur of shapes and colors, and you rely on them more than anything, so you’ve always been very careful with your glasses. that’s why, when you hear the sound of them hitting the floor and that awful crack that follows, your heart sinks.

you stare down at the bathroom floor, but it’s just a hazy blur of light and shadows. the outlines of your broken glasses are barely visible, and the realization that you can’t see them clearly makes your chest tighten with fear. you sink to your knees, fumbling to pick up the pieces, but your hands are shaking so badly that you can’t even grasp them.

“no, no, no…” you whisper, your voice trembling as panic starts to build. you know how dependent you are on your glasses, how lost you feel without them, and now you’re faced with that terrifying reality.

“oscar!” you call out, your voice cracking with desperation. you feel a wave of helplessness crash over you, the room spinning as you struggle to keep your breathing under control.

oscar’s footsteps echo in the hallway, and within seconds, he’s at your side, his expression shifting from concern to alarm when he sees you on the floor, your hands clutching at the broken glasses. “hey, what happened?” he asks, his voice full of worry as he kneels down beside you.

“they broke,” you manage to say, your voice trembling. “i don’t have a spare… i can’t… i can’t see anything, oscar.” the words come out in a rush, your panic spiking as you try to explain just how bad it is, how everything around you is just a terrifying blur. “i don’t know what to do. what if something happens, and i can’t—”

oscar cuts you off with a comforting hand on your shoulder, and immediately wraps his arms around you, pulling you close to his chest. “it’s okay,” he murmurs, his voice fighting hard to stay steady and calm, though you can hear the underlying worry. “i’m here. you’re going to be okay. i’ll help you.”

you clutch onto his shirt, your knuckles white with the force of your grip. you’re trying to breathe, but the fear is overwhelming, making it hard to focus on anything other than the fact that you can’t see, that you’re completely vulnerable. “i’m scared,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. “i just feel so helpless.”

oscar tightens his hold on you, his hand gently stroking your hair in a comforting rhythm. “i know,” he says softly. “but i’m not going to let anything happen to you. we’ll get through this together, okay? we’ll get you new glasses as quickly as possible.”

you nod, but the panic is still there, making your heart race and your thoughts spiral. “but how… how can i do anything without my glasses? i can’t see, i can’t…” your words are choked off by a sob, and you press your face against oscar’s chest, trying to hide how scared you really are. it may be an overreaction, you’re well aware of that, but the thought of being completely dependent on someone else, the thought of not being able to do anything, is making your heart beat faster, feeling like it’s pushing hardly against your rib cage in an attempt to get out.

“hey, it’s alright,” oscar says gently, pulling back just enough to be able to study your expression. “you’re not alone in this. i’m going to guide you through the whole day, and we’re going to take it one step at a time. you don’t have to worry about anything. i’ll be your eyes until we get new glasses, okay?”

you nod again, feeling a small flicker of relief at his words, though the fear still lingers. “okay,” you whisper, leaning into his touch as he cups your face, his thumb brushing away the tears that have started to fall.

“let’s start with breakfast,” oscar suggests, his voice gentle as he helps you up from the floor. “i’ll guide you, and we’ll take it slow.”

your grip on his arm is tight as he leads you out of the bathroom, every step feeling uncertain without being able to see anything.

oscar’s presence is a lifeline, his calm, steady voice reassuring you as he carefully guides you through the apartment. “there’s a step here,” he says softly, pausing to make sure you’re steady before continuing. “and here’s the table—i’ve got you.”

he helps you into a chair, then places a plate in front of you, gently guiding your hand to it. “scrambled eggs,” he says with a smile in his voice. “your favorite.”

you manage a small smile, though your hands are still shaking slightly as you reach for the fork. oscar doesn’t leave your side, watching closely to make sure you’re okay, his presence a constant source of comfort.

the rest of the day is a blur of anxiety and dependence, but oscar is there for every moment, helping you navigate the world that has suddenly become so much more daunting. whether it’s walking you around the apartment or helping you find your way to the couch, he’s right there, his hand steady on yours, his voice a calming presence in the midst of your panic.

at one point, he pulls you into his lap, wrapping his arms around you and holding you close. “you’re doing great,” he murmurs into your hair, his lips brushing against your temple. “i know it’s scary, but you’re handling it so well.”

“i don’t feel like i’m handling it well,” you admit, your voice small as you cling to him, your fear still simmering just beneath the surface.

“you are,” oscar insists, his voice filled with quiet confidence. “you’re being so strong, and i’m really proud of you. just remember, you don’t have to go through this alone. i’m here, always.”

you nod, burying your face in his chest again, taking comfort in his warmth and the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. you’re still scared, still feeling vulnerable and lost without your glasses, but with oscar holding you, guiding you, you know you’ll make it through the day. he’s your anchor, your calm in the storm, and you know that as long as he’s with you, you’ll always be okay.

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tom-foolery-incorporated · 2 months ago

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I’m thinking something with starscream!? Like smut with a dom starscream and sub reader where he bends her over and overstimulates her pls🙏

Bro did you shoot like some CIA brainwave thingy at me because the night before I had a dream about Starscream and today I’ve been thinking about him all day. Poorest meow meow, most evil loser, fucked up princess

Starscream x Reader, AFAB gender neutral reader, racially ambiguous, overstimulation, g/t, brat taming, finger fucking, slight breeding kink, degradation

Starscream wasn’t known for his patience. He constantly jumped on every opportunity to overthrow Megatron that came his way but somehow Starscream managed so be methodical.

Impatient and methodical.

Maybe more so impulsive and methodical.

He jumps in leaps and bounds to conclusions, always the worst ones. Starscream wasn’t the easiest to get along with by any means yet here you were always by his side. Soft little human form perched atop his shoulder and hugging his helm. Tiny, flesh fingers dancing over his wings as he allowed himself to rest into a recharge state. You were his and Starscream made that very clear.

“Too big!” You cried drool dripping from your mouth and onto Starscream’s desk. Your ass was propped up over Starscream’s arm in the air while your lower body was slumped against the cool metal of his personal desk. His other servo was busy pushing two of his digits into your wet hole.

“I’ve seen you take larger,” Starscream said smugly. “You have no business complaining about taking two of my fingers.”

You moaned as he scissored your hole open. You managed to take his digits down to the second joint and covered them in your dripping arousal. “I can’t believe how greedy you are,” Starscream scolded as he set a brutal pace fucking his fingers into you hard enough to push your body forward. “Speaking to Thundercracker like that,” Starscream huffed as you moaned out for him pathetically. “Is your human valve really so desperate to be filled you’d take any Cybertronian spike that came your way?”

You shook your head desperately. “No! No I only need yours!” Tears welled up in your eyes at the feeling of having your poor pussy brutalized by Starscream’s fingers. “Hm,” Starscream stopped pulverizing your sweet hole for a second to think. “I don’t believe you.” He added a third finger giving you no time to adjust as he returned to his previous pace.

“Please! I only want you!” You wailed feeling your wetness leaking around where his fingers plugged you. “Please!”

Starscream smirked at your reaction reveling in your pathetic form. “Prove it.”

He pulled his servo away from your body taking his fingers out of your slick hole with a schlick. Starscream brought his digits to his intake cleaning off your arousal with his glossa.

You panted watching him over your shoulder. His lascivious display did nothing to help you catch your breath. You turned your body over so you were on your back propping yourself up on your elbows with your legs spread.

Starscream simply sat back in his chair with a smirk plastered on his stupid, handsome face. You pouted at your lover completely furious with how smug he could be.

“Don’t tell me you’re already scared?” Starscream teased releasing his modesty plate with a hiss. His spike sprung to life slapping against his abdomen. You tried your best not to melt at the sight of his fully erect cock and kept your grimace firmly in place.

Starscream gave a firm stroke of his spike before frowning down at you. “I don’t think you want to learn what I do with brats,” he warned with a scowl.

“Takes one to know one,” you snap back with an all too proud smile.

You felt the air shift for the worse as Starscream’s turbines whirled loudly. He pounced slamming his hand down to grab you as you skittered backwards like a crab. “I shouldn’t have to put up with this attitude,” Starscream growled grabbing you around your waist. You shrieked at the sudden motion of being brought to Starscream’s lap.

His spike throbbed between your thighs as the tip beaded transfluid against your chest.

“I generously let you lay on my berth,” Starscream started as he pulled your body upwards so your cunt dragged along his spike. “I amuse your little human antics.” He pushed the tip of his spike against your clit letting his transfluid lubricate down your vulva. “And you still continue to behave like a brat!” Starscream reeled his hips back then pushed forwards stuffing the head of his spike inside of your hole.

You grabbed onto his wrists as your whole face scrunched up in pain. “I think for once I’m going to take what I want from this little organic valve,” Starscream purred with a sharp thrust. You cried out his name pressing the bottom of your feet against his thigh plating. “Such a lovely little hole to fuck,” Starscream said punctuating the last word with a deep rolling thrust.

He kept a steady rhythm using you like a toy. Your cries and squirming only did more to excite him. Your hole felt raw from his fingers previously abusing it and now his spike stretching you to your limit. Tears streamed down your face as you babbled out praises and cries of pain. Starscream seemed all too pleased with how you writhed against his spike. Your squishy body so tender in his servo he could crush you like a bug. The way you gushed and squeezed around his spike made his cooling fans sputter in bliss.

“Say it,” Starscream barked stilling his thrusts. You cried out in protest at him ceasing his movement. “Say that you’re my hole to overload in.”

You whine in embarrassment and softly repeat what he had said.

Starscream pinched your clit harshly earning a cry of pain from you. “Don’t test me, human,” Starscream growled. “Try again and be louder this time.”

“I’m your hole to overload in,” you said breathlessly. Starscream huffed still not satisfied. He flicked at your sensitive pussy making you yelp.

“I’m your hole to overload in!” Your voice rang out.

Satisfied with your display of submission, Starscream grabbed you around your waist and lifted your body up and down his spike. You went limp in his servo having every ounce of your being controlled by Starscream’s drive to cum in you. “I want you to thank me for interfacing with this filthy organic valve,” Starscream spat.

“Thank you Starscream!” You cried feeling yourself pushed far past your limits.

“Unlike you,” Starscream started with a grunt. “I don’t go around taking whatever spike comes my way.”

“I don’t-“

“Shut up,” Starscream barked. “As I was saying, I don’t just interface with anyone so you better feel special to even brush up against my interface panel.”

You nod giving breathless thanks to your lover. Starscream smirked all too satisfied with his fuck toy.

His spike twitched and writhed inside of your gripping cunt. The wet noises produced by your conjoined bodies mingled with your croaking thanks to have your pussy used by your lover made Starscream dizzy with lust. “I’m surprised how you managed to stay so tight,” Starscream hissed. He could feel his release crawling its way through his circuits. “With such a floozy lifestyle I was sure you’d be gaping for any spike that came your way.”

You cried out apologies and continued raining your gratitude onto Starscream. “I don’t want any spike but yours!” You cried feeling your lower body throb in ecstasy.

Starscream swore under his breath trying not to let his hips falter. His little human so beautifully submissive in his grasp. He could be as mean as he wanted to you and still control how you clench your thighs in arousal. “Tell me what you need,” Starscream panted his thrusts becoming erratic.

“Fill me,” you panted squirming in his iron grip. “Please! Fill me with your transfluid!”

Starscream whined your name pushing his spike into you frantically. His optics were squeezed shut as he sneered in pleasure. Your velvet walls were gripping him trying to milk him dry as transfluid spilled from his needy spike. Your combined juices leaked around where he plugged your hole. Starscream’s frantic thrusting didn’t cease until his lower body was shaking. You only shivered and groaned in delight at being so full. You could feel your womb stretching to accommodate the load your lover delivered deep into you.

Starscream’s fans blared in the silence of the room. His tired optics trained on your sweaty body. “My love,” Starscream panted giving you another thrust that made you cry. “Don’t act like I’m finished taking what I want from you just yet.”

#transformers #starscream #starscream x reader #starscream valveplug #starscream x reader valveplug #transformers x reader #transformers valveplug #valveplug #maccadam #transformers smut

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corruptedcaps · 13 days ago

Text

Brat Training

"Mmm, I always thought your girlfriend Lana had a dorky body, but now that I'm in control, I can see she just didn't use it to its full potential. Like, look at these tits? They're way bigger than mine.

Oh didn't she tell you? She hired me to 'train' her body and mind. I'm like a life coach but I take control of my clients body's. Lucky for your girlfriend that I gave her a friends and family discount even though I am far from being either. We went to high school together and see was such a dweeb and clearly still is if she needed my help.

Bet she used to whine about me, calling me bitchy bully Becky. She was right, too. I was such a nasty slut in high school but no one dared to mess with me. Clearly that's why your lame girlfriend asked for my help. Dead end job, no fashion sense, being walked over by everyone, including you. But that ends today. I've already made some positive changes.

And her wardrobe? Oh, she dressed like she was still in high school. But with this body and her new clothes that I bought by maxing out her card, I'm going to make sure everyone knows what a queen looks like. I'll wear those tight dresses she was too scared to even think about.

And her voice, oh, her voice! She always spoke so quietly, like she was afraid of her own shadow. But now, it's a perfectly bratty tone that will make everyone do as I... or I mean, as she says. Just this morning I was able to get one of the baristas at her favourite coffee place fired for spelling her name wrong on the cup. Just a few choice words and my new manicure tapping on the counter had the manager fold so fast.

Oh, and those friends of hers, so dorky and annoying, well I’ve kicked them to the curb. They were holding her back. You should have seen the looks on their faces when I made fun of them one by one. They were so crushed that even if Lana wanted to reverse the damage I’ve done, her friends would be too afraid to trust her.

See what your girlfriend never understood was that being a hawt bully was the only way to get what you want. Now that I’ve turned her into one she’s going to have no problem getting everything and anyone that she desires.

But you know what I’m desiring right now? You. Oh don’t worry baby it’s not cheating if it’s her body. Besides you want to be familiar with her new bitchy energy when she takes over right?

First off, I'm going to get down on my knees, right in front of you, and I'm going to take your big cock in my mouth like you've never felt before. This mouth, it's not going to be all shy whispers anymore. It's going to work you, tease you, show you what a real blowjob feels like. I'll look up at you with these big eyes, all innocent and yet so fucking naughty, watching your reaction as I take you deeper, make you moan like you never have.

Then, when you're at the edge, I'll stand up, push you down, and climb on top. This body, it's going to ride you like it was made for it. I'll move my hips in ways she never could, make you feel every inch of this new, improved version of her. I'll lean down, let those big, beautiful tits brush against your face, driving you wild.

We'll change positions, because I want to feel you from every angle. From behind, where I can show off this new, sexy arch in my back, taking you deep, making those sounds she was too embarrassed to make. And then, on your back again, where I'll grind down, slow and deep, watching your face, knowing I'm in control now, knowing I'm giving you the best damn sex of your life.

And all the while, I'll whisper in your ear, tell you how much better it is with me in charge, how this body was wasted on her, but now, it's yours to enjoy, in ways you never thought possible. Because, baby, I’m never leaving. This is my body now and this is just the beginning."

#f2f #bitchification #evil bitch #evil couple #female possession #cc2025 #brattraining #corrupted pov

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auras-moonstone · 9 months ago

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Could you write Ethan/Jack going with reader to a basketball/hockey game and getting on the kiss cam?? Hope ur doing well!! 💗

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ kiss you in a crowded room — ethan landry

ᡣ𐭩 word count: 990

ᡣ𐭩 pairing: hockey player!ethan landry x fem!reader

ᡣ𐭩 summary: ethan sees his best friend’s face on the kiss cam and, filled with jealousy, he rushes to stop it, leading them to confess their hidden feelings.

ᡣ𐭩 contents: fluff. hockey. kissing. public confession. jealousy. best friends to lovers. cheesiness.

y/n’s legs bounced nervously as she watched the team fighting to gain possession of the puck and failing miserably because the rivals managed to score once again, leaving them 2-1.

“fuck!” she cursed when the intermission started. “i’m going to throw up, i swear”

“calm down, they can still turn it around.” tara tried to be positive, despite being nervous for chad, her boyfriend.

“i just want eth to win this goddamn championship. doing it in his rookie year would be amazing.”

“an ethan fan? he’s great. he played a huge part on the team making it to the playoffs, so his rookie year will still be amazing no matter what.” the guy that sat beside her said.

y/n turned to face him, a proud smile on her face. “i’m his biggest fan actually.” she said, which was true. she was, always had and always will be her best friend’s number one fan. “and you’re right, his rookie year is one of the best. still want him to get the stanley cup tho.”

“you and me both. but your friend is right, we still have 30 minutes to turn it around.”

“keeping my fingers crossed.” she showed him her crossed fingers and he did the same.

“okay, i just gotta say it. do i know you? you seem really familiar but i can’t put my finger on it.”

y/n blushed under his scrutiny. “um, i’m y/n. ethan’s childhood best friend.”

“oh! that’s where i know you from. his instagram. my boyfriend is always stalking his social media, he’s got a big fat crush.” they both chuckled. “it’s nice to meet you.”

“you too!”

ethan, who was watching the scene from a couple of feet away, clenched his jaw. his urge to call security to ask them to not-so-gently scort the stranger—who was shamelessly flirting with his girl—outside was almost uncontrollable.

“you need to calm down.” chad said. “they’re just talking.”

“they’re laughing, chad. he’s making her laugh at my game.” ethan growled.

“okay. you’re actually growling, you’ve gone ins- oh dear god.” chad’s panicked voice made him unglue his eyes from the stands. his friend was looking up at something, and ethan raised his head to see what made him act that way.

there, on the screen of the arena, were the shocked faces of y/n and the stranger. the letters on top read ‘kiss cam’.

“um, how do we get out of this?” y/n asked.

he took a deep breath “we can just say no, right? it’s not like they’re going to force us.”

y/n nodded which ethan completely mistook it for her giving consent, and he just saw red. before chad could stop him, he skated towards the stans and hit the glass that separated the seats and the rink with force, startling his best friend and the guy, who were both sitting in the first row.

“um, hi?” y/n asked, confused by ethan’s pissed off face.

“don’t you fucking kiss him.” he said with a frown on his face and glaring at the guy, who quickly raised his hands and yelled “i have a boyfriend!” with a voice so terrified and high that y/n had to bite her lip to not laugh.

the hockey player’s demeanour changed from angry to embarassed “oh… i saw you talk… and you nodded- i thought—“

“—that i was going to kiss him in front of the whole arena.” she finished his sentence. “yeah, i got that. what’s got you so furious, though? you almost scared my new friend to death.”

“well, i- i wasn’t sure you’d be okay kissing a stranger.” he chuckled nervously.

“you thought i was consenting when i nodded, so try again. why were you so pissed, landry? no bullshit.” y/n crossed her arms in front of her chest.

“because i don’t want you kissing someone else.” he admitted, not daring to look her in the eye.

her face softened. “well, i don’t want to kiss anyone but you, so…” she confessed in return.

warmth spread through his cheeks and the nervousness faded when he met her smiling face. “please stand in that fucking chair so i can do what i’ve been wanting for a long long time.”

her body bent over the pixie glass and ethan didn’t have to rise his head too much to meet her lips. the crowd’s cheers were drown by the thundering of their own hearts. y/n’s hands were shaking as she caressed his cheeks once they had to pull apart because of the awkward position.

“now, rookie, you gotta turn this game around, okay?” she kissed his nose before climbing off the seat. “i have faith in you.”

“i’m not stopping until i lift that stanley cup.” he did the soldier motion with his hand, making her laugh. “to have the girl and the cup sounds like a dream, doesn’t it?”

“okay, lover boy, that was quite a half time show.” chad arrived to his side. he looked at the boy sitting next to y/n and frowned. “jesus, you look kinda pale.”

“for a moment i saw my life flashing before my eyes. i thought he was going to kill me.” he answered, stumbling over some words.

“eth? he’s only tough on the ice. outside? he’s a huge teddy bear.” y/n smiled lovingly at her now boyfriend.

the hockey player let out a dramatic gasp “shh, babe. my reputation!”

y/n rolled her eyes. “you’re a dork.”

“but i’m your dork.”

the girl gaged. “get out of my sight.” she waved with her hand, acting disgusted by his cheesiness.

“i love you, too.” he winked before skating away.

y/n sat down with a content smile on her face. she couldn’t believe that just actually happened. she’s spent years and years pining after him and thinking they would never be more than friends, and now ethan was there, after having confessed his feelings in front of a whole arena, dedicating his goals to her.

#ethan landry #ethan landry x reader #jack champion #jack champion x reader #ethan landry fic #ethan landry oneshot #ethan landry fluff #ethan landry smut

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daisyblog · 5 months ago

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Angel Baby

Too Young Masterlist Summary: Louis and YN welcome their second baby, and Arthur becomes a big brother.

warning: childbirth, labour, birth, hospital

9th of September 2024

If Louis was glad he made any decision in life, he was thankful that he decided to come straight home from the festival in Munich. He had managed to sleep for a little bit on the flight home but he couldn’t wait to get into bed next to YN and wake up with Arthur in the morning.

Spotting Harry’s car on the driveway wasn’t unusual because he would often stay with YN and Arthur when Louis was away. Opening the front door, Louis was trying to open the door as quietly as possible, not wanting to disturb anyone.

The dim light that was on in the living room caught Louis eye. But what surprised him was YN and Harry wide awake. YN was sat on the birthing ball and Harry on the edge of the sofa.

“Hey! Is everything alright?”. Louis walked further into the room, walking closer to YN as he placed a peck to her forehead, aware Harry was in the room.

“I’m having contractions but worry pants over here”. YN signaled towards Harry with her thumb. “Thinks I’m about to give birth within the next five minutes the way he’s been frantically phoning everyone”.

“M’sorry for being worried about my sister”. Harry joked as he looked to Louis for some back up.

“To be fair love, Harry was only looking after you”. Louis kneeled down in front of YN as she still sat on the large grey ball. “How painful are they?”.

YN knew he was referring to the contractions, as he gently rubbed his hand over her thigh. “They’re manageable at the moment”.

“Well we’ll keep timing them and let the hospital know when you need to go in”. Louis smiled up at YN who shared the same look. “We’re having a baby!”.

---

Within two hours, the contraction had become quite intense. YN felt her tummy tighten as the pain spread from her bump around to her back.

“Birth scares me”. Harry voiced as he watched his sister cling to Louis. Her arms were wrapped around his neck and her head burned into his shoulder as she breathed through the pain.

“Keep breathing through it babe…you’re doing amazing”. Louis rubbed her back and kissed the side of her head.

As the contraction ended YN sat back up straight as she took a rest in between. Knowing another one could hit her at any point. “I’m sure I said that you could give birth this time”.

Louis chuckled as he remembered the conversation during Arthur’s birth. “You did…but I didn’t think there would be a next time then…and also I don’t have the right body parts”.

“I forgot how painful this was”. YN held onto Louis’ hand as she prepared for the next one.

---

“I can’t do this…I can’t do this”. YN repeated as she sat on the edge of the sofa, Harry now being the victim of the famous hand squeeze.

“You can…you did it once and you’re going to make Arthur so proud when he finds out you’ve given him everything he’s ever wanted”. Harry encouraged, knowing mentioning Arthur would help.

“I can feel another one”. YN tensed up as she anticipated the pain. Her eyes closed tight as she dreamed about when she would have gas and air at the hospital.

Louis appeared with a bottle of water just in time as he cringed at how tight YN was squeezing her brothers hand.

---

Harry stayed at the house to look after Arthur, whilst YN and Louis were at the hospital. Anne was on her way but this was the downside of living so far away from her Mum.

Like she had done many years ago, YN kept the gas and air nozzle securely in her hand sucking on it probably more than she needed to.

“Do you have any children already? Or is this your first?”. The midwife asked as she sat in the room wi the couple.

“We have a little boy, Arthur…he’s nine”. Louis couldn’t hide his smile as he spoke about their son, and showed her a quick photo of him.

The midwife’s eyes widened. “Waw! He’s the image of you…perhaps this one will look like Mummy”.

---

YN was laying on the bed, the nozzle still attached to her hand. Louis was moving the hair out of her face as she now had a layer of sweat covering her forehead.

“YN I’m so sorry my darling…but we’re going to have to break your waters because your contraction are starting to slow down”. The midwife’s voice was full of sympathy, knowing how painful it could be.

With the tool in her hand ready, YN held onto Louis tightly. “You’re so strong and I’m so proud of you”.

The pain was something YN hadn’t felt before. “AHHH!”. She cried out in pain as she felt the water burst from her.

“You were amazing darling…keep sucking that gas and air for me”. The midwife gave an encouraging smile.

---

The contraction become more frequent and YN could not keep still as she moved from different positions. If she was not bouncing on the ball, she was sat in the chair next to the bed. If she was not in the birthing pool, she was clinging onto Louis, hoping it would ease the pressure.

As Louis massaged the bottom of YN’s back, getting a sense of deja vu, he felt her tense up more than she had been.

“Babe? You alright?”. He swallowed thickly, as YN froze.

“I think…I think I can feel the baby”. At the words, the midwife shot up from her seat and quickly glanced under YN’s gown.

“Lie down on the bed for me…baby’s head is crowning”. The midwife moved around the room quickly gathering everything she needed.

YN laid down like she was told, her legs up in the correct position, trying to relax as she was about to meet her baby.

---

“Baby’s head is out…and I think in about three to four pushes, you’re going to be cuddling your little baby”. The midwife spoke from her position at the end of the hospital bed.

Louis quickly glanced down and could see his baby’s head. Seeing his babies be born was something he found breathtaking and he was in absolute awe of YN for doing it.

YN found strength within and began to push. She repeated the action over and over. Louis was by her side as he waited for the sound to fill the room.

And the sound of a newborn cry finally filled the room, as tears ran down Louis and YN’s cheeks when the little one was placed on YN’s chest.

“I’m so proud of you…and I love you so much”. Louis left several kisses on YN’s head before the final one on her lips.

“I couldn’t have done it without you…I love you”. YN’s voice was tired but the adrenaline was pumping through her.

“Mummy and Daddy love you little one”. YN gently kissed the newborns head.

---

YN couldn’t decide who was more excited as Arthur, Harry and her Mum walked through the hospital room door.

Arthur ran straight to his Mum, who was laid underneath a blanket. “I’ve missed you my boy”. She wrapped her arms around him.

“I’ve missed you too Mum…I’ve been nagging Uncle Harry to come and see you”. Arthur held onto his mother for longer.

Harry and Anne hugged YN and congratulated her and Louis on the birth of their baby. The room was full of happiness and smiles as they looked at the little baby in Louis’ arms.

“Hey lad…do you want to have your first big brother cuddle?”. Louis felt his heart melt as Arthur eagerly nodded and ran over to his father’s side.

Arthur sat in the chair, waiting for Louis to place the newborn into his arms. The minute Louis placed the baby into Arthur’s hands, the four adults all shared a loving look, and wiped the tears away from their cheeks.

“Hi baby…I’m Arthur, your big brother”. Louis and YN shared a look as they knew this was the right time to share the news.

“And this is Elsie…your little sister”.

---

ynstyles and louist91

liked by lottietomlinson, annetwist and 1,672,665 others

ynstyles Our babies🤍Welcome to the world Elsie Johannah Tomlinson🩷 View all 10,733 comments

lottietomlinson Our sweet Arthur and Elsie🥹🤍

annetwist My heart could burst❤️I’m one lucky Nanny🩵🩷🩷 ⌞ynstyles The absolute best🥰❤️

the.daisytomlinson I love being an auntie to all these babies❤️

thephoebetomlinson my beautiful nephew and niece🩵🩷Auntie Phee loves you lots xx

gemmastyles We are so lucky❤️Aunties little cuties xx

louisfan5 OMG THE BABY IS HERE!!!

louisfan3 Louis a girl dad🩷🩷🩷

harryfan9 Harry is an uncle to another girl🥹💕

Taglist :@jillsvalentinex @itsmytimetoodream @peterholland04 @youcan-nolonger-run @chronicallybubbly @macy-tpwk @wh0s-nadii @lillisummers

#louis tomlinson #louis tomlinson fic #louistomlinson #louis tomlinson writing #louis tomlinson x reader #louis tomlinson fanfic #louis tomlinson fanfiction #louis tomlinson x y/n #louis tomlinson x oc #louis tomlinson x you #louis tomlinson series #louis tomlinson x styles!reader #louis tomlinson x yn!styles #louis tomlinson x harry's sister #louis x you #louis x reader #louis x yn #louis x y/n #harry styles x reader

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little-diable · 1 year ago

Text

Let me take care of you - Kylo Ren (smut)

A small drabble written for @the-tales-of-ren - I hope you enjoy this lovie! Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: Kylo is scared to touch reader after her surgery, yet she won't let go of him, begging to feel him close

Warnings: 18+, smut, oral (f), just soft pwp

Pairing: Kylo Ren x fem!reader (1.1k words)

The soft glow of ambient lighting cast a warm and gentle ambience in Kylo and (y/n)'s shared chambers. In the aftermath of her surgery, the room seemed to cocoon them in a haven of tranquillity. The grandeur of dark, obsidian walls was softened by delicate tapestries that hung like echoes of a distant past, and the air was thick with a serene calm.

Kylo found himself entrapped in the fragility of the moment. (Y/n) lay on the dark, expensive bedding, the sterile scent of the medical bay replaced by the subtle fragrance of flowers that Kylo had brought to bring life into the room. Each delicate petal seemed to capture the soft glow of the room, a reflection of Kylo's attempt to infuse a touch of solace into the shadows that lingered.

He was a stranger to the emotions flushing through him, all too used to pushing away the smallest ounces of fear, of worries, but ever since she had been forced to part for him, just for a few hours, he had been held hostage by this deadly mixture of emotions. He watched her, his intense gaze softened by an unfamiliar vulnerability. The stark contrast of his dark attire against the tender atmosphere only emphasized the transformation he underwent in the confines of their shared space.

"How are you feeling, love?” His whispers left (y/n) smiling, reaching her hand out to pull Kylo closer, though miserably failing. Ever since she had returned from the medical bay he had kept his distance, close enough to tend to her every need, yet far away to not hurt her.

“Kylo,” she sighed his name, fingers not daring to let go of his big ones. “Stop acting as if I’m some fragile thing you could hurt. I want you to hold me, please.”

Kylo sat down on the bed, next to her, his gaze never leaving her face. In the silence that enveloped them, he reached out to cup her cheek, the touch surprisingly gentle. His eyes, pools of intensity, softened into a rare display of tenderness.

"I've never allowed myself to care for someone as deeply as I care for you," he admitted his voice a low rumble that resonated with sincerity. "Your well-being will always be my priority, and I don’t ever want to be the reason for your pain."

(Y/n) felt her heart swelling at his words, struggling to sit up, yet determined to do so. He watched her with dark eyes, lips marked by the cuts his teeth had left, a nervous trait he’d never be able to shake. A soft kiss was pressed to his lips, momentarily making Kylo forget his every worry, pulled closer into her trap with just a simple touch.

But the kiss was anything but simple, it oozed with tension so strong, Kylo feared he’d snap any moment, once again claiming the one he hadn’t touched in days. (Y/n)’s moans seemed to tell him everything he needed to know, unable to hold onto his determination, watching it pour down the drain of neverending emotions.

Carefully Kylo pressed her back down onto the mattress, lips kissing their way down to her breasts. His eyes found the scar on her chest, eyebrows furrowed as he momentarily gave into his wandering thoughts, thoughts (y/n) managed to pull him out of with a soft, impatient moan of his name.

“I can’t have you, at least not now. But I’ll take care of you, my pretty pet.” (Y/n)’s chest rose and fell all too quickly, not caring about the slight uncomfortableness her scars made her feel, not fully healed just yet. All she could focus on was the feeling of Kylo pushing the big shirt of his she wore up to her hips, pulling her panties down her legs within seconds.

She barely got any time to breathe, eyes fluttering close the second his warm mouth came in touch with her needy cunt, licking her arousal-covered folds. (Y/n)’s moans reverberated through the bedroom, silently thanking whoever had designed their room for the soundproof walls, allowing them to be as loud as they wanted to.

“Oh, stars, right there.” Her words left Kylo smirking against her folds, sucking on her pulsing bundle of nerves as he pushed two fingers into her tightness, curling them against the spot that always left her gasping. Kylo could only hum against her skin, high on the taste of her, the sweetest taste he’d never forget about, longing for it whenever they parted for more than a few hours. She was his everything, the one he needed with every rise of a new day, the one he’d turn to when the walls began to close in on him. She was his all, his eternity.

Kylo ate her out with a certain kind of pleasure, finding enjoyment in her mewls, her gasps, and her moans, the sounds sending sparks straight down his spine and right to his aching cock. He’d have to take care of his desperation later on, not daring to fuck her while she was still healing, very well knowing that he’d be unable to control himself the second her walls flutter around him.

With his eyes set on her pleasure-drunken features, Kylo watched her creep closer and closer to her release. He was determined, and wanted to see and hear her fall apart, all because of him. His thumb found her pulsing bundle, momentarily pulling his mouth away to inhale a few deep breaths.

“I’m so close, fuck, Ky’, don’t stop, don’t you dare stop.” His fingers fucked her ruthlessly, fast enough to push her close to the brink of passing out, though not wanting to slip from his grasp just yet. Kylo added more speed to his movements, pushing down harder on her clit to give her the last needed push, coaxing a high-pitched moan from her.

His fingers kept fucking her through her high, sending her a sweet smile as (y/n) slowly opened her eyes. Only as he felt her relax did Kylo dare to pull away, moving up her body to press a slow, loving kiss to her warm lips.

“I can’t wait for you to be off bedrest, I don’t know how much longer I can go without stuffing you full with my cock.”

#Kylo ren smut #kylo ren imagine #kylo ren x reader #star wars smut

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luffyvace · 9 months ago

Text

The Luffy Package ☠️📦

(General & relationship headcanons as well as Luffy quotes (relationship implied) for his big day!!)

had to go all out for my fav 😊🤭

General Luffy headcanons:

Luffy has nails so short dirt can’t get under it 😭

not necessarily the booty diggers 🤭

but just really short, like almost booty digger ig—but not it

he has like 1% nail

its not intentional, they just never grow

i have a feeling someone taught luffy how to dance

idk who

it was likely makino, shanks or some else he cares deeply about

but he learned early on and has been a great dancer ever since!

maybe at parties since they happen a lot in one piece ⭐️

But just because someone taught him doesn’t mean he was awful at dancing at first

maybe he was a natural!

feel the rhythm typa thing 🎶 🕺

it’d be funny if he was

cuz imagine a guy that can dance but can’t sing

how you gon dance on beat to a out of tune song?? 😭

at least to uta anyway

ive always loved Luffy’s singing‼️

he never thinks about what the one piece is

but would be the most disappointed if it isn’t something cool

this dude is NOT interested in books so if the one piece really is just joyboy’s tale i don’t think he’ll be satisfied..😭 (I’m talking about the theory)

he definitely wouldn’t say it was all for nothin tho

he still has nakama, treasure and is the pirate king!! 👑

but…the one piece as books is just a mega L for him

Robin will enjoy ♡

you know that thing he does where he stretches his face real big? Like the time he was tryna cheer nami up when she was sick? And it scared vivi and zoro?

he scared himself when he first realized he could do that too

he was bored and started messing around with his devil fruit

at first he was outside and he stretched his mouth, and when realized he could see inside it, he was like ‘I wonder what this looks like’

so he went inside and did it into a mirror

he somehow managed to trash the whole bathroom running away from his reflection

he quickly got over it and realized it was kinda funny

he showed Ace and sabo who also found it terrifying

then preceded to scare people with it ever since

d end! :)

I feel like he’s thought about what the ‘D’ in his name stands for too

He came up with a bunch of outrageous names that likely aren’t it..

”Dingus?”

”Donkey?”

”Demarto?”

”Doorbell?”

”Dinosaur?”

yeah, dinosaur seems the most plausible 😊

Luffy Dinosaur Monkey!

‘HEY THAT SOUNDS COOL 🤩’

yup, that’s probably what it stands for 😁

sneaks into the usopp factory whenever he’s not in there

he ends up playing with his creations and destroys, it, other projects, and the factory altogether in the progress

he then runs out laughing

usopp later returns to the ruins only to find his months work of his greatest creation yet named “ultimate captain usopp three thousand smasher” has been reduced to fragments of metal nothing ☺️

listen idk if oda has confirmed Luffy’s favorite color but I would say it’s none

why? The same reason why you can’t ask a toddler their’s, it’s just gonna constantly change and you know it’s not the truth

arguably, if I had to pick an actual color based off canon, (IK it’s a shade but wtv) it’d be white

why? wym? Don’t you remember that one ep where luffy sang a song about how he loves snow cuz it’s so white?

(one of his lesser talked about songs 😭💗)

Relationship Luffy headcanons:

Luffy as a partner is really rambunctious and loving

But do note that loving doesn’t always mean romantic

for him it means loving you a lot but not being lovey dovey when showing it

you need protecting? He’s on the case!! He can’t and he has to beat someone up? One of your nakama’ll do it so stay with them!

your strong? Perfect! He’s gonna go fight this guy so you go beat up that one!

why am I mentioning that? Because it shows he has a great sense of trust and faith in you

Of course he does with all his friends but your reasoning is different

not only are you his nakama, your also his partner!! Which means he loves you in a intimate way!! Not just platonically

I say “just” because I swear sometimes Luffy’ll feel like a friend with you (best friends and lover typa thing 💞) he’s just as goofy and chaotic with you as he is Usopp and chopper

he feels extra lively when around you and always wants to play, whether you like this or not. Your personality depends a lot on how your relationship with him is but I won’t dabble into that today because it’s his birthday. 🎉 but honestly it doesn’t matter if you punch him like nami or laugh like brook-

he’s still gonna bug you! 💖 seriously you can’t get rid of this dude 🤨 Luffy will drag you on every single one of his adventures so I hope your either brave or fearless like him. The only time you two separate and he allows it is when he’s fighting the boss type thing LOL. Like Doflamingo or smth.

that said Luffy isn’t clingy he just likes being around you and seeing what your doing. Especially when you haven’t landed on an island yet and he’s bored. He’s always singing, playing with your face (ironic cuz he’s the stretchy one) or trying to get you to play some silly game he made up

that usually somehow manages to tick everyone off. 🤷‍♀️

will grab your hands randomly and make you dance to some song he made up about literally anything he sees or feels

he even made one about YOU once :3

”OOOOOHHH your my partner! Yes my partner! We’re having lots of fun! Going on adventures- YAHOO!! And dancing a ton! We’ll dance all arcross the grand line!! Take your hats off and let them fly!! YIPPIE!! We’re having a graaaaand TIIIIIIIME!” 😁🕺

Luffy quotes: (implied relationship between you two)

”HEY LOOK DO YOU SEE THAT ISLAND!! Cmoncmoncmoncmoncmoncmon!! HURRY UP I WANNA GO EXPLORING!!”

”can you sneak in the kitchen and steal some food from sanji? I’m really hungry and he won’t let me in anymore!!”

”LETS HAVE A PARTY!!!” — “we don’t need a reason! CMON!’ CHEERS!”

”lets tame that thing and make it our pet!!”

”what should we name em?” — “Junpi? SOUNDS GOOD TO ME!!” (You didn’t get a chance to respond 💕)

”HEY LOOK A RESTAURANT!! Grab on I’ll rocket us there!! HURRY UP IM HUNGRYYY!!”

”hey! Do you have any food on you?? I’m hungry!”

”Liar!! I can smell it!!”

”take a bath?! I don’t stink!!— EUGH!- okay yeah maybe….but I don’t wanna take a bath!! I’ll get all tired!”

”I’ll leave you with that guy! So go kick some butt! I’ll deal with that red forehead guy!!” (AN: There’s no actual red forehead guy that’s canon, I made it up 👍)

”⁉️ HEY WHAT HAPPENED?! Did that guy beat you up?! I’ll send him flying!! 💢”

”Shishishishi! Shh! Watch this! I’m gonna drop this on Usopp’s head! 🤭😂”

”Lets play a gaaaaame!! I’m so bored! 😞”

”can I have some of your food?” *Already stuffing a piece in his mouth* (the point is it’s not the whole thing ⁉️😱)

”HE LOOK MY BOUNTY WENT UP!! 🤩🤩‼️“

”Isn’t this fun?! 😆” (having a near death experience)

”don’t worry! My injuries don’t hurt at all! See? I’m dancing! I’m having fun!”

”oops. Sorry.”

”look!” (Two chop sticks stuffed up his nose and mouth)

”WOAHH A MAN KILLING BEAR!! LETS GO CHECK IT OUT! 🤩” (even if you wanted to say no your already being hoisted over there because you weren’t running fast enough for him)

”plan? Never mind that!! Let’s go! We’re gonna kick that butt head guys’ butt!!” (AN: another fictional villain I made up on a whim)

”HOLD ON TIGHT” (Gum Gum Rockets with hardly any warning)

”let’s play a game!! It’s called steal zoro’s swords without waking up zoro!! 😁”

”nyop!” (Puts you atop his shoulders 💓)

”nyop!” (Jumps on your back almost knocking you over 💝)

”look at my disguise! Nobody will suspect us! 😎👍”

”Cmere!” (Pulls you into his lap)

”HI! Is it almost time for dinner yet?” (Plops down in your lap)

Thanks for supporting me and my work—as well as my random disappearances too 💗🤗

Everyone! Say it!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY LUFFY‼️‼️

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too-much-tma-stuff · 6 months ago

Text

This Isn't the First Time (Part 16)

Prev | Masterpost | Next

By the time Danny got back everyone else was in uniform, he transformed back, already in his Hyena garb and pulled the weapons Jason had asked for out of his chest to hand them over.

“What? How did you do that?” Nightwing asked, looking shocked and disturbed.

“I can turn intangible so I can turn my entire body into a pocket basically, it’s pretty handy. Now we should get going shouldn’t we? It sounded like there was a real emergency?” Hyena asked, looking around at the other costumed heroes and Tim nodded and started typing on his wrist computer.

“Right, they have a threat from the Infinite Realms, a powerful one from the way Constantine is freaking out. There’s some uncertainty about how exactly the threat came about, the JLD tracks natural portals and there have been no energy signatures that would suggest anyone entering our world.

“The timing is a bit odd as well, since the JL just arranged a meeting with the leaders of the GIW. We suspect they might have already had this being captive and released them to try and garner sympathy or paint ghosts in a bad light to justify their actions. So far we have managed to contain the threat but we don’t have anything capable of actually defeating them, and it seems like neither do the GIW, not that we’d really let them try.

“More info will be provided on the Watchtower where I believe they have video footage. None of the younger teams have been called in as of yet.” Robin said, closing the holographic screen again and looking up at the gathered suits. “Are we ready?”

“Yep, let’s go,” Jason said, grabbing Danny’s hand. Tim nodded and led the way through the Zeta-tube, Nightwing bringing up the rear this time. Danny didn’t have to be dragged quite as much as last time, it seemed like going through twice already had helped break him out of his initial fear.

The core members of the Justice league were already present, along with Zatana, Constantine again, and Deadman. Deadman stood when he saw Danny, and made an aborted gesture Jason couldn’t quite decipher, but thought might have been a bow, before Danny gave an inhuman chittering hiss and Deadman stopped. He looked startled and confused but he sat back down after staring at Danny for a moment. Hyena’s shoulders slumped a little and he gave the ghost an appreciative nod before all of them took the seats that had been left open for them on one side of the table.

“Thank you for coming,” Batman rumbled at them, standing up from his seat. “I’m sure Robin already shared the info I sent him?” Hyena and Hood nodded. “Good, we don’t have much more information than that. We have some footage but it’s heavily corrupted, which Constantine says is fairly normal for ghosts?” He glanced at Hyena, who nodded. “They are contained for now, and aren’t trying as hard as expected to escape. They’re demanding someone come fight them and seem willing to wait for now.

“The plan is that-”

“No plan needed,” Hyena said with a dismissive little wave. “I’ll go in, engage them and lure them away from population centers and give them the fight they want. I have a feeling I know who it is anyway, he talks a big game but he’s not actually that much trouble. I’ve been dealing with these things since I was a teenager and for all Amity Park was scared of me there were no casualties under my watch, you can check. I can handle this.”

“Hmph,” Batman sounded, frowning at them. “That may be but I insist that-”

“Nope, I’m not used to fighting with anyone else. Anyone mortal would be a liability. If you insist you can call Phantasm.” Hyena rolled his eyes at Batman, who scowled back.

“Fine,” He grumbled. “Robin would you mind-”

“Already doing it,” Tim interrupted, who was indeed already texting on a phone no one had seen him pull out. Batman sighed at them.

“Alright if that’s settled, what about our fee?” Red Hood spoke up. Everyone looked shocked, even Hyena, Jason hadn’t gotten a chance to talk to him about this because he hadn’t expected them to be called in so soon. Jason knew that Danny would have helped without any payment, he was that sort of person, but Jason didn’t fucking feel like helping these people. And he also knew that Danny would back him up regardless.

“What do you mean?” Batman asked, eyes narrowed.

“Well we’re not heroes are we? You can’t expect us to help just because it's the right thing to do,” Jason said with a smirk clear in his voice.

Danny seemed to pick up what he was saying and grinned, he got up from his seat and draped himself across the back of Jason’s seat, showing he was behind Jason in this. He didn’t say anything, letting Jason handle the talking, but showing that he was there, and reminding everyone he wouldn’t actually help if Red Hood didn’t agree.

“Red Hood this is not appropriate behaviour. This is your world too,” Batman scolded and Jason rolled his eyes.

“Ya, which is why we’re here, taking time outta our lives to help with this. But we have a skill set you don’t and I think since we’re not exactly part of your little club, and you’re going to get the credit for saving the world, we should get something out of this,” Jason said, leaning back in his chair.

“We’re helping disband the GIW!” Superman pointed out indignantly.

“And what? If we don’t help you you’ll let them keep torturing sentient beings? Nah, you’re the good guys,” Jason huffed. “I was thinking half a million would be reasonable, hm? I know that Brucie Wayne funds y’all so you must have the cash and for Hyena’s power-set I think that’s a pretty damn good deal!”

“Hood I know you’re upset with me right now but this is not how I raised you,” Batman said and Jason felt the pit roil within him at the mention. He stood up abruptly. “You don’t need the money, you can do the right thing.”

“You did not raise me, I spent 3 years with you before I died in the line of duty at 16. I don’t owe you Shit.”

“I’m sorry about what happened to you but you went off on your own. It’s no one’s fault but-”

“Shut up! I didn’t blame you for not saving me, I know I went off on my own,” Jason’s fists were clenched and trembling, green was wavering at the edges of his vision. “That’s not what this is about and you know it!”

“Isn’t it?” Bruce asked, staring at Jason levelly.

“You always think you know everything but you don’t fucking know me anymore. I’m doing this because I want to, it has nothing to do with you!” Jason insisted, blood already rushing in his ears. He needed to calm down, he needed- A familiar hand landed on his shoulder and before Jason could even think he was flinching away from the touch and lashing out.

He struck Danny hard enough that he was sent stumbling back, catching himself on the chair again. Everything froze, and everything was quiet as Danny closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. He pushed himself away from the chair and approached Jason again, holding out his hands placatingly. “We don’t have time for your anger right now, Boo. Go for a walk and calm down, I’ll handle this, and we can handle your anger together in private.”

Jason froze, staring at Danny and still breathing heavily, he hadn’t even been aware he was standing up, when had he stood up? What was going on. Guilt was already building in him, though it couldn’t quite overcome the anger the Pit was forcing into his mind. He nodded sharply and turned away, leaving the room.

Danny took another deep breath and then sat down in Jason’s chair, ignoring the ache on his face. That one wouldn’t heal as quickly as usual he knew, the emotional wound of being struck in front of Jason’s family, his friends, would stop the physical injury from healing at first. He tried to ignore it and move on though, he understood and he didn’t blame Jason, if anything he blamed Batman for upsetting Jason so much. Especially since what he was asking for was reasonable, at least from multi billionaire Bruce Wayne.

“So, back to what we were talking about,” Hyena said, opening his eyes again.

“Absolutely not! We can’t just move past that!” Nightwing interrupted. Danny winced and glanced over at the other two he’d come with, Nightwing looked incensed, Tim looked like he was too shocked to speak.

“It’s not a big deal, he has a hard time controlling his anger and I’ll heal. The threat is more important right now,” Danny tried to deflect again.

“This is not the first time he’s hit you,” Batman stated, leaning forward and propping his elbows against the table. Danny looked back at him, unsure of how to respond. “I keep an ear out for the rumours in the underground, he’s only hit you in front of people a couple of times, but they say sometimes after he calls you into his office they can hear him beating you.”

“Our relationship is none of your business!” Hyena snarled at Batman.

“None of our business! Hyena we’re your friends,” Nightwing cut in, holding both hands towards his chest. “If you’re being abused we want to help! It doesn’t matter that he’s our family, if he’s hurting you then-”

“Shut up! You don’t know anything about our relationship. He’s not abusing me, I can handle this myself,” Danny snapped at Dick. He could feel his own eyes starting to glow green, even though he had better control of his anger he had his limits too. He couldn’t give in to his own anger now though, he needed to handle this.

Unnoticed, Deadman left the room, slipping out through the wall unseen. He wasn’t going to be here when Hyena snapped, he was not going to be part of this ill advised lecture.

“Dick is right, it doesn’t matter how powerful you are, when someone you love hurts you, and you don’t want to hurt them back it’s easy to just let it happen. But that doesn’t mean it’s right,” Batman told him, calm and soft, so much differently than he had talked to Danny at first. Next to Batman Constantine was trying to distract him, making a cut it out gesture that everyone in the room was ignoring.

“Shut up! At first you were after me for controlling him, and now you’ve done a 180 and you think he’s abusing me? Why can’t we just have a good relationship that makes us both happy!” Danny insisted furiously.

“Think he’s abusing you? Hyena, he hit you in front of us! Him abusing you isn’t in question, you shouldn’t defend him!” Superman cut in, looking horrified.

“Enough!” Danny snarled and stood up, his humanity falling away from him as he slammed his now clawed hands down on the table, the metal ripping under his claws. The temperature in the room dropped and frost raced across the surface in unnatural geometric patterns. Green glowing pits replaced his eyes in the stark skull as he glared down at Batman and Superman. Next to them Constantine fainted as the power in the room overwhelmed his senses, crashing to the floor with an unimpressive little groan.

“I will hear no more of this!If you don’t need my help I will go home with my lover. If you do need my help I will accept a favour in return from Batman or Superman, I don’t care which. Once you have agreed to my favour and told me the coordinates of the threat, I will deal with it,” Hyena hissed furiously.

“Fine, we do need your help, but this isn’t the end of this discussion Hyena,” Batman sighed and stood up. “A favour for a favour,” He agreed. He hesitated when Danny held out his hand, but Constantine wasn’t conscious enough to tell him no, so he shook Danny’s hand. Green flame erupted around their hands and Danny’s skeletal grin widened as he stared Batman down.

“Good, now tell me where to go,” Hyena demanded, and as soon as learned the location he vanished, leaving a heavy silence behind him in the room.

“I’m very glad the rest of Young Justice wasn’t here to see that. No one tells Phantasm,” Tim broke the silence.

--------

Danny flew towards the threat, he thought it was just Skulker, which was honestly a shame because it had been so long since he had a good fight. Jason was doing a good job helping him control his anger but he would like something to really take his aggression out on, and humans were just far too squishy. He just wanted to get this fight over with as quickly as possible so that he could go home, he was tired and he needed to be held.

As he got closer he didn’t need to pay attention to the coordinates, he could feel the nearby energy signature of a ghost shield and just follow that. On the way there he came across one of the JL’s camera drones, probably this far away because this was the closest it could get without the ecto fucking it up.

He laughed to himself and dropped his invisibility, swooping around in front of it and grabbing the drone. He poured ecto into it while it shook and whirred. He didn’t stop until its mechanisms were covered in the stuff and the machine was gently glowing.

“Heeey,” He said, waving his hand in front of the lens, knowing the JL was probably watching now. “I fixed this one so that it can properly see ghosts, and there’s a 50/50 chance it’s going to gain a little bit of sentience now. You’re welcome that you can be nosy, sorry if it starts getting the other cameras to unionize.” He patted the camera and then swooped away with the drone following quickly after him now.

The bubble of the ghost shield came into view, and when Danny first saw the hulking outline contained within he thought that he was right about it being Skulker. He sighed and swooped down closer he heard them shouting.

“Come on out, pipsqueak!” A familiar voice roared. “We have a score to settle!”

Danny felt a hysterical laugh bubbling out of his throat and he let it out, cackling as he swooped down and hit the burrier with both fists, dispelling it with a crackling burst of energy. “Damn Dan I never thought I would be happy to see you!” Danny laughed as Dan spun to face him and rocketed up into the air to meet him. It seemed like he was going to be getting the fight he wanted after all! Danny barely recognized the excitement he felt about that but he did not want to examine it, especially not right now.

“There you are!” Dan crowed before pausing for a moment, looking Danny up and down. “Damn you changed, grew some too. How long was I out?”

“Five years, why does it matter?” Danny asked, rolling his eyes.

“Because you locked me up, asshole!” Dan yelled.

“And?! You deserved it! Now shut the fuck up and attack me, I have some anger to work out,” Danny snarled, slamming one fist into his opposite palm.

“I’ll show you anger you Punk!” Dan flew at Danny, who didn’t bother to dodge, meeting Dan half way.

Ice met fire in a hiss of conflicting temperatures as Danny used the momentum to roll them both over and shoved Dan down into the ground with a muted thump and a fairly impressive crater. Danny pushed himself off and shot away, away from the ground and the human population. The atmosphere would probably be the safest place to have this fight.

“Come back here you twerp!” Dan snarled and pushed off the ground as well, chasing after Danny just as quickly. Somewhere behind them Danny could hear whirring as the JL drone struggled to keep them in view. He hoped that they were enjoying the show, and he wondered if Constantine was awake again by now. It was too bad Danny wouldn’t get to see his face when he found out Batman had agreed to owe Danny a favour! He was going to blow a bloodvessel, a thought that made him laugh again.

“What’s so fucking funny!?” Dan demanded as he caught up and grabbed Danny’s ankle, swinging him around and threw him back. Well, they were far enough up that this would do just fine as an arena for their fight.

“Oh I’m just thinking about how much stronger I’ve gotten since the last time we fought. This is going to be fun,” Danny said before he shot towards Dan to bring the fight to him.

#dc x dp #danny phantom #jason todd #dead on main #fanfiction #physical abuse #batman #tim drake #nightwing #dick grayson #superman #john constantine #Hyena!Danny AU #multi part fic #dan phantom

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muniimyg · 4 months ago

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𐙚₊˚⊹ ceo!hoseok ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹

series m.list // taglist

🏷️ permanent taglist: @joonsjuice @pamzn @defzcl @whoa-jo @taetaecatboy @jksusawife @un06 @firesighgirl @rrosiitas @butterymin @parkinglot-nights @musicjournalsjdb @kissyfacekoo @jkslvsnella @vampcharxter @bloopkook @somehowukook @bbystarcandykoo @ddanasjk @luvismenu @remgeolli @parapiop7 @lil0u0 @crazyovayou @mggv97 @thvgukk @rpwprpwprpwprw

it never occurred to you that your boss is terrifying.

sure, you’re well aware of his mood swings and the endless gossip that circulates around the company, but it never feels personal to you. to be fair... you’re never the target of his outbursts.

in truth, you don’t work closely enough with him to get caught in the crossfire. but if you ever do slip, you know it’ll be brutal.

you aren’t unnoticeable to him either.

jung hoseok, your cold-hearted, demon-like boss, hasn’t given you a reason to be scared yet. you learned quickly how to navigate him after only a few months at the company. to avoid him on tuesdays because, for some reason, he’s especially grumpy. no clue why, but he just is. maybe it’s because it’s too early for dinner and too late for lunch, or maybe he just hates feeling stuck. either way, you know his habits and manage to stay in his good graces.

as the head designer of his father’s company, hoseok’s creativity has to flow constantly. his father never steps foot in the office, but his presence is still felt through the intense pressure hoseok places on himself. despite his infamous temperament, no one can say jung hoseok doesn’t meet expectations. in fact, he exceeds them every time, thanks to his relentless work ethic.

the devil works hard, but jung hoseok works harder.

“that will be all for today. you’re all dismissed.”

everyone starts gathering their belongings. just as you and your team head for the door, hoseok calls out, “oh... except for ___ and kim taehyung. please stay behind for a moment.”

taehyung, your assistant, shoots you a look.

you furrow your brows in confusion. once everyone else leaves, you both stand in front of hoseok’s desk.

“i’m thinking of opening up an internship program here. what do you think?” hoseok asks.

you nod. “it sounds like a great opportunity for those who aspire to be part of the fashion industry. especially with jung co., i’m sure we’ll have a lot of applicants.”

“exactly my thoughts, ___,” hoseok replies, smiling slightly. “which is why i like you.”

taehyung huffs, and you roll your eyes before saying, “thank you, mr. jung.”

“here’s the thing,” hoseok continues, “i trust you, ___. as head of hr, you’ll be in charge of filtering the applicants—portfolio reviews, phone interviews, and in-person interviews. taehyung can assist you, but i’m requiring you to take the lead on this.”

“no problem at all,” you assure him. “when do you want us to start?”

hoseok chuckles. “now. i’ve already had my secretary draft some advertisements and an application page. finalize them and get them live by nine tonight.”

“tonight?” taehyung blurts out, “but it’s my girlfriend’s birthday, and ___ was supposed to come—”

“no invite?” hoseok teases.

taehyung almost chokes.

hoseok holds his stare before finally blinking. “tonight. before nine,” he repeats. “regards to the celebrant.” and with that, he excuses himself, leaving you and taehyung stunned.

“tonight?” taehyung panics. “is he serious? his secretaries are always unprepared! whatever draft we get is probably just a blank page. i’m doomed. jennie's going to kill me.”

“she won't,” you tell him, sighing. “i’ll take care of it. go to her birthday. consider it my birthday gift to her.”

“really?” taehyung looks at you with wide eyes. “you sure?”

“yes. boyfriends should be there for their girlfriends birthday.”

taehyung doesn’t need to be told twice. “you’re the best, ___. i owe you big time.”

at 4 pm, taehyung bolts out the door.

by 8:49 pm, the office is mostly empty. only a few colleagues remain in a meeting room, and the custodian walks down the hall, pushing a cart. outside, the sky is dark and cloudy. rain looks like it’s about to fall any minute now.

“taehyung really left you?” hoseok’s voice suddenly cuts through the quiet as he steps into your small glass office.

you shrug, giving him a tight-lipped smile. “birthdays are special, mr. jung.”

“you know what else is special?” he asks, leaning against the doorframe.

“what?”

“hiring interns.”

you roll your eyes, and hoseok chuckles at your reaction.

“i’m almost done,” you tell him, finishing up the last few details on the application page. “i’ll send it to you in a minute.”

“how are you getting home, ___?” hoseok asks after a brief pause.

“i’ll take the bus,” you reply, still focused on your screen. “i was supposed to go to the birthday party, but i’m tired now.”

“it’s raining,” he points out. “do you have an umbrella?”

“the bus stop has a cover,” you say casually, not looking up.

“i could drive you home,” hoseok offers. “i feel bad that you’re here all alone. i thought you knew i was kidding earlier.”

“jokes usually start with ‘knock knock,’” you tease, finally glancing at him. “and they don’t usually come from scary bosses.”

“you think i’m scary?”

“see,” you smile, “now you’re funny.”

he gives a soft laugh, shaking his head. “you’re something else.”

just then, his phone buzzes. hoseok glances at it before pushing himself off the doorframe. “i have to go. i have dinner plans with my girlfriend.”

you raise an eyebrow, trying to hide the surprise in your voice. “girlfriend?”

he smirks, walking over to your desk and leaning down slightly. “yeah, she’s been waiting on me all day. good thing she’s too busy saving my ass at work to notice.”

it takes you a second, but when it hits, you roll your eyes.

“oh, shut up.”

he laughs, his smirk growing wider. “come on, i’ll drive you home. wouldn’t want my girlfriend to be mad at me twice today.”

as he reaches for your bag, he leans in and kisses you softly. the surprise catches you off guard. with a playful grin, he takes your bag and wraps his arm around your waist as you both walk out of the office.

“you know,” you start, half-jokingly scolding him, “you really should have thought twice about all the work you dumped on me tonight.”

“what can i say?” he replies, chuckling. “i’m a mean boss but a great boyfriend.”

"dump more work on me and i'll dump you."

hoseok tightens his lips and sighs. "no, don't do that... i'm sorry, babe. i'll be nicer the next time i ask you to do your job."

with that, you hit his chest. he laughs and pulls you close. together, you two make your way to his car where he opens the door and drives you home.

hoseok stays the night, over the moon to wake up and spend a lazy saturday with you.

come monday, he surprises you with a team of interns you have to interview.

hoseok [12:09pm]: i'm sorry babe hoseok [12:09pm]: my dad approved them all for an int,, i couldn't do shit abt it hoseok [12:11pm]: pls don't dump me hoseok [12:15pm]: i'm ordering ur fave lunch yn [12:17pm]: i'm dumping u after i clock out tn hoseok [12:19pm]: pls babe. no thank u :(

#bts fic #hoseok scenario #hobi fic #hobi imagine #hosoek boyfriend #bts jhope boyfriend au #bts scenario #hoseok ceo #hobi x yn #hobi x oc #bts fluff #hobi fluff #hobi relationship au #bts secret dating #bts ceo au

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steddieasitgoes · 1 year ago

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written for @steddiemas Day 1: Deck the Halls read on ao3 | ao3 collection

Steve’s annoyed.

More than annoyed, really.

He’s supposed to be at the Munson’s, sitting between Wayne and Eddie, watching the Hoosiers play. Well, trying to watch the game, at least. Eddie has a habit of dozing off before the first quarter ends, head thunking against Steve’s shoulder so he can’t move for the rest of the game.

But no.

His mom just had to call and demand he set up their stupid Christmas tree before she and his dad get home tonight because the annual Harrington Holiday House party is this weekend, and she doesn’t have time to do it herself. Honestly, he’s surprised she’s trusting him enough to decorate the thing. He can count on one hand how many times he was allowed to hang an ornament on the statement piece in their living room.

He can’t even celebrate the decorating victory, though, because he’s still trying to assemble the goddamn thing. Nine-foot trees really aren’t meant to be set up by one person. At least, that’s what Steve’s learning as he tries to balance the next segment of the tree over his shoulder as he climbs up the ladder.

Focused on not falling, Steve doesn’t hear the front door open or the stomps of boots coming into the room. It isn’t until Eddie tuts does Steve startles, nearly toppling over.

“Woah, there big boy,” Eddie teases, reaching out to steady the ladder. “Don’t fall.”

“Don’t scare me then,” Steve snaps. It takes a moment, but he manages to get the next piece into the slot before carefully climbing down the ladder.

“Christ, someone’s feisty today,” Eddie says, hands up in surrender. “I guess it’s a good thing you bailed on me and Wayne to uh…” He glances at the half-assembled tree in the middle of the room. “What are you doing exactly?”

Steve rolls his eyes. “Building a stupid Christmas tree.”

“I’m sorry, you what?” Eddie asks, shaking his head. “You can’t build trees. You grow trees.”

Steve snorts. “It’s an artificial tree, Eds. My mom called as I was headed out to your place. Said I needed to get the stupid thing up and fluffed before she got home tonight because she needs a full three days to decorate the damn thing for the annual Harrington Holiday House party.”

“This thing is blasphemous!” Eddie says, circling it like a predator stalking its prey. “I thought rich people love Christmas trees. Don’t you like custom order the biggest one to show off your wealth?”

“Uh, no? My mom says real trees make too much of a mess.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Eddie says, abandoning the tree as he stalks towards Steve. “You mean to tell me you’ve never had a real tree before? Is that what you’re telling me?”

“You’re being weird,” Steve says, shaking Eddie’s hands off his shoulder.

“I am not being weird. You’re being weird. You’ve never had a Christmas tree! Do you even know what they smell like? Steve, you haven’t lived until you’ve smelt a freshly cut down Christmas tree!”

“Jesus, I didn’t know you were so passionate about this,” Steve snorts.

“You think this is bad. Wait until I tell Wayne. He’s going to flip out!”

“Wayne has never flipped out in his life.”

“Yeah, well, there’s a first for everything.” Eddie crosses his arms and then immediately uncrosses them, clapping his hands instead. “That’s it. You’re coming with us this year. Don’t make plans for next Friday! I’m stealing your Christmas tree virginity.”

“Don’t say it like that,” Steve groans, wrinkling his nose. “But fine, I’ll go with you. If you help me with this thing.”

“I don’t think that’s a fair trade-off, Stevie.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t really give a shit,” Steve says, bending down for the next segment of the tree. “Now grab an end.”

Steve yelps when he feels a firm hand squeeze his ass. All it takes is one deathly glare over his shoulder for Eddie to stop cackling and get serious.

🎄 🎄 🎄

“I’m going to sue your family,” Eddie whines, collapsing on the couch a few hours later.

“Don’t be a baby,” Steve scolds before dashing off into the living room to grab a couple of beers.

“Excuse me! That thing attacked me! Multiple times! Look at the evidence,” Eddie shouts, yanking up the sleeves of his Hellfire shirt to examine a dozen or so scratch marks up and down his forearms. “And don’t even get me started on my hands! How am I supposed to play guitar, Steven!”

“I told you to wear gloves,” Steve shrugs, returning to the room. He passes Eddie the cold can of beer before sinking into the couch beside him.

“I shouldn’t need gloves because you shouldn’t need to fluff a tree! They already come fluffed because they’re not rotting away in a box all year.”

“You poor thing,” Steve playfully tuts. “Guess I can’t hold your hand now since they’re so beaten up.”

“I never said that,” Eddie squawks as he yanks Steve’s hand into his own.

They sit in silence after that. Nursing their beers as the Christmas tree stands in its makeshift glory in front of them. Steve can tell which side he fluffed and which side Eddie did. The giant gap between the top two layers is obvious, and he knows he’s going to have to climb the ladder and fix it before his mom gets home, but that’s a problem for future Steve. Right now, he wants to sit here with his boyfriend even if his boyfriend is gearing up for another faux Christmas tree rant.

“Don’t tell me your mom is one of those people who only puts those stupid decorative ball things on the tree, too.”

“What do you think?” Steve says, hiding his smile behind the can of beer.

“Jesus H. Christ!”

🎄 🎄 🎄

It takes a bit of convincing and a formal invite from Wayne, but Steve keeps up his end of their deal, joining the Munsons on their quest for the perfect Christmas tree for the trailer.

Eddie has a habit of embellishing when he tells stories, but Merrill’s farm lives up to all the hype. As done, the process of selecting and chopping down the perfect tree. Steve gets stuck being the tie-breaking vote when Wayne and Eddie end up arguing over which tree to bring home. Naturally, Eddie throws a minor fit when Steve sides with Wayne, whining that he likes him better than his own boyfriend, which has Wayne rolling his eyes.

Steve gets to make the first chop but passes the ax off quickly. He doesn’t want to impede on their tradition any more than he has. Besides, axes have never been his thing. He prefers to swing bats instead.

“See, isn’t this much better than building a tree?” Eddie asks, slinging an arm over Steve’s shoulder as they stand off the side while Wayne pays.

“It definitely smells better.” Steve inhales deeply, scents of pine and hints of peppermint flooding his senses. Someone should bottle this stuff up and sell it as a cologne, he thinks. He’d definitely wear it.

“It’s easier, too.”

Steve scoffs. “Speak for yourself! You’re not the one who helped Wayne drag it all the way up here.”

Eddie laughs, eyes sparking mischievously. “Wait until you have to help him load it into the truck. That’s always the worst part.”

Steve eyes his boyfriend through squinted eyes. He ducks out of Eddie’s grasp and settles his hands on his hips. “You set me up! You just brought me here so you wouldn’t have to do manual work!”

“You wound me, Harrington,” Eddie gasps, clutching a hand over his heart as he staggers backward. “How can you think so lowly of me.”

“Because I know you, Munson,” Steve teases.

“Alright, alright, fine,” Eddie says, slinking over to Steve. “Maybe I had ulterior motives, but it's only fair after what I suffered helping you with that abomination you call a tree. At least now you’ve experienced a true Christmas tree experience.”

Steve can’t help but laugh, shaking his head as Eddie beams proudly at him.

“Ready to go, boys?” Wayne asks, rejoining them. They both nod, watching as Wayne makes his way over to the heavier side of the tree.

“You don’t have to carry it, Wayne,” Steve says, mischievous flooding his own veins. “Eddie and I will carry it to the car.”

“You bastard!”

“Hey,” Wayne scolds, swatting Eddie’s shoulder. “No swearin’ ‘round kids. I ain’t raise you like that.”

Steve bites the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing as he watches Eddie sigh dramatically before carefully shoving Wayne away from the tree. He waits for Eddie to follow his lead, squatting down before he counts them off. On three, they hoist the tree over their shoulders and start heading back out to the car.

🎄 🎄 🎄

“So, what do you think?” Eddie asks later, passing Steve a mug full of Wayne’s signature hot chocolate. “Is it better than your tree?”

Steve knows the answer immediately, but he takes a moment. Wants to make Eddie squirm as he admires the tree in front of him. It’s not perfect. It’s a little crooked, and there are hundreds of pine needles littering the floor. The lights are bright, though, and the branches are full of homemade and sentimental ornaments that span decades. A homemade star sits on top in lieu of the traditional angel. A star, Eddie tells him, he and his mom made by themselves the year before she got sick.

It’s perfectly imperfect.

His own traditional, straight out of the pages of a Home and Garden magazine doesn’t stand a chance against this one.

“Yeah, Eds. It’s better than my tree.”

“Victory!” Eddie shouts, nearly spilling his hot chocolate all over himself.

🎄 🎄 🎄

A month later, Steve’s belly is full of the Munson Christmas feast, but instead of lazily lounging on the couch enjoying his food baby, he’s carefully taking ornaments off of the dead Christmas tree that nearly caught fire twice since he’s been here.

“I take it back,” Steve says, carefully taking an ornament off of the dead tree. “Artificial trees are better.”

“They are not!” Eddie whines, wrapping the ornaments Steve hands him in tissue paper.

“I don’t know, Eds. I’ve never had to take down a tree on Christmas before!” he grumbles, reaching for another ornament. “This sucks.”

“It’s all your fault. If you chose my tree, it would have lived for another week! I just know it.”

“Sure it would have,” Steve snorts.

“Look on the bright side, at least we have firewood for the New Year's Eve bond fire now. We can’t do that with your stupid tree.”

“Nope, because I get to use my tree again next year, and you have to buy a new one. Think that’s another point for fake trees.”

Eddie screeches, wrapping his arms around Steve’s middle and tugging him off the ladder and onto the couch. Despite their full stomachs and tired eyes, they wrestle and laugh as Wayne shakes his head from the doorway, a light cigarette perched between his lips.

“Cut it out, you too,” he scolds when things get more heated between them. “Need it out before it really goes up in flames.”

#steddiemas #steddie #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #steve harrington #steve harrington fic #eddie munson #eddie munson fic #dani writes

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the-universal-sun · 3 months ago

Note

could you write something about stan being claustrophobic? i saw a couple works on that and wanted to see your take on it and/or regressed stan ver

I’m sorry if this wasn’t quite what you were thinking of! I don’t really have personal experience with claustrophobia, so this was a bit hard for me to write. This also started out as some head canons and turned into a Drabble? I don’t feel exactly proud of this work, but I know this was asked a while ago and I’ve been pondering it for days. You know what? Don’t even read this I’m sorry. Again, I’m always open for constructive criticisms and helpful advice on my writing!

-For Stan, rather Lee, there’s a big difference between the nice and comfy small spaces and the chest hurting and scary tight spaces

-Being wrapped up in his blanket? He loves it. When he’s feeling sick, or anxious, or overwhelmed, or really any negative emotion, he loves to be smushed underneath his weighted blanket, he loves feeling the pressure surrounding him, calming his mind and body. When Lee’s feeling extra bad, Ford will lay on top of the weighted blanket on him, giving him both that extra pressure he needs and the comforting presence of his brother surrounding him, chasing all the bad and icky feelings away

-But those tight spaces? Those all encompassing spaces with no windows? The dark cramped places? He can’t do those. It reminds Lee too much of those…darker times that Lee doesn’t want to think of thank you very much

-Being on the ship was an adjustment for him at first. After 30 years of having his open and bright spaces in the Shack and in Gravity Falls, the small boat and smaller rooms gave him the tight feelings in his chest that he hates having. Luckily, Ford made sure that every single room has a window and a door, a link to the outside for him to look at, to know that he’s not stuck

-If Lee finds himself stuck in one of those spaces, like if the door to his toy closet accidentally closes on him while he’s in there, he panics. He cannot think. He cannot move. He cannot do anything. He starts banging on the door, yelling for his Sixer, he’s sobbing, and he cannot breathe.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ford opens the door as soon as he hears the banging, catching Lee in his arms as he collapses, hardly able to breathe through his panting. It becomes obvious to Ford very quickly that having Lee match his breathing wasn’t happening, not here on the floor at least, so Ford picks him up (he will worry about his back and knees later) and hauls him to their room.

Thankfully, Lee’s weighted blanket was left out on the foot of the bed, so he grabs the blanket as he sets Lee down, swiftly pulling it over him, careful to leave his head exposed so he can see the light spilling out from the windows. He lays down on Lee, rubbing his hand against Lee’s chest and breathing deliberately. He sees Poindexter shoved halfway under a pillow and pulls him out, stuffing the stuffed animal underneath the blanket, next to Lee’s face, hoping the familiar toy will help calm him down

It takes some minutes and a lot of head stroking before Ford can feel his brothers breathing start to calm. He sees his eyes regain some clarity, still in his smaller headspace, but not as panicked and scared. He feels his own heart rate slow down; Lee’s attacks always makes him very anxious as well.

When Lee’s awareness comes back to him, he finds himself in bed, comfortably crushed underneath his blankie and his Sixer, Poindexter’s face nuzzled into the side of his own. His body feels heavy, but he manages to look over at his brother, rubbing his head against Fords, humming softly. He usually finds it hard to speak when feeling small, but now he can’t speak at all. But he knows Sixer wouldn’t be mad that he can’t speak, words aren’t always needed with them. He feels his brother wrap an arm over him and relaxes into the extra pressure. His Sixer always knows how to make him feel okay again.

Ford reaches over to the night stand with his free arm and grabs the half full sippy cup from last night. Lee needs water, day old will do, and he doesn’t want to try to lift Lee right now for a cup, knowing how heavy he can be after an attack. Plus his brother looks so soft and comfortable, he’d hate disturbing him. He brings the sippy cup to Lee’s mouth, watching him drink so he doesn’t accidentally choke on water.

Lee drinks the water greedily, his throat was dry and hurting. It wasn’t a lot of water, but he didn’t mind, feeling too…he didn’t know how he was feeling beyond “blah”. He wasn’t sleepy, but he didn’t want to get up. He’s fine right here, with Poindexter and Sixer and the light from his window. His bedroom isn’t dark and small and scary, and plus he has his brother here. Lee knows Ford will protect him from anything scary. Even his own thoughts. He snuggles deeper into the bed and Ford, sighing softly as he feels the tightness still in his has calmed down, his mind getting fuzzier, but in a nice way, as he just breathes in and out. In. And out.

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admirationandromantics · 2 months ago

Text

Going overboard, Prologue

Okay, so 10 hours early, but I've gotten several requests about the start of the story, so here it is! This has been a big project (still not done with the last 3 chapters...), but so worth it. Remining the readers that this story is 18+ cause of alcohol, smut, drugs (?), throwing up (cause of alcohol, not ed) and other darker themes. Remember that Josh is severly mentally ill, so if you struggle with themes like that, I don't recommend this story.

Some chapters will not feature interactions with him, and some will be longer or shorter, but I'll try to make daily updates, so no worries! This blog is purely for my creative expression, and I don't really want tips or tricks about how to do stuff better, thank you. This whole thing is a way for me to relieve stress and just write without thought. Hope you enjoy, and if you do, please consider following and liking <3

The booze was getting empty, and the night darker. The snowstorm outside had worsened, making the inside of the cabin feel like the perfect cozy place. Emily and Jess had been talking all night about some kind of prank. I don’t know what it was about, and I didn’t want to know. Knowing the lengths they’d go, I kept my distance. During the evening they’d been regularly going away together, whether it was in the bathroom or in the kitchen. They were alone, talking, occasionally giving loud snickers. If Emily wasn’t hopelessly in love with Mike, I would’ve thought she had a thing for Jess.

Josh is slurring around, mixing up words and almost falling over. He’s basically being carried by Matt from place to place when he wants to go somewhere. Hannah is mixing drinks, leaving them on the counter for everyone. I guess it’s tiring being hosts. Well, not for Josh, but the others. I’m sitting on the sofa with Sam, Ashley and Chris. Ashley seems fine, as she doesn’t get very verbal while drunk, while Sam’s not drinking. She’s sketching on her notepad while talking, and I occasionally look over her shoulder to see the products. They’re gorgeous, every line perfectly in place. I’m mesmerised by her talent, her ability to create something so lifelike. She’s almost like Victor Frankenstein, just a little safer with her creations. She’s drawing Chris now, making sure to add that little glisten on his glasses. I look over at him, then the drawing, then him again. It looks so real.

“I’m in awe” I comment, looking up at her. She gets a slight blush on her cheeks, clearly not used to such positive feedback.

“Why thank you” she smiles back at me.

“Ohhh let me see, let me see!” Ashley shouts, reaching out both of her hands for the pad. Sam complies, putting down the pencil and giving it to her. Ashley blushes as she looks at the drawing, biting her lips in an almost invisible manner.

��Oh look-” she points at the drawing, holding the pat in front of Chris.

“She even got some of your freckles” she smiles, still blushing as she looks down on him. Chris doesn’t open his eyes. His head’s resting on her shoulder, and when she nudges him, he gives a slight “mmm” in reply. She gives back the drawing pad to Sam, leaning back so Chris’ head falls in her lap. Luckily she manages to catch his head with her hands, slowly putting him down. He nuzzles into her, and she runs her finger though his hair while breathing out. She’s probably scared he’s going to wake up.

I turn, giving Sam a look before we both turn to her. The motions make her look up at us, confused.

“Sooooo” Sam begins.

“When are you going to ask him out?” I finish, smirking. I can’t help it. It takes a couple of seconds before Ashley realises what we asked of her, and when she does, her eyes widen and both hands immediately go to cover Chris’ ears. Sam grabs my thigh, squeezing a bit to release the energy so she doesn’t laugh.

“Shhhh he might hear you!” she whisper-shouts, looking at us.

“Oh don’t worry, he’s out cold” Sam teases, grabbing a shot glass and filling it to the brim with tequila.

“Well, the brain can still recognise things while sleeping”

“Nerd”

“They’re a perfect match”

“Stop it!”

We both laugh, while Ashley’s still pouting.

“Fine, sorry” Sam continues, giving me the shot glass. I look at her, she’s got a funny look on her face.

“What is this for?” I ask, taking hold of it and bringing it to my mouth.

“You seem more present than the rest.” She smiles, nodding to the glass. I drink up, give a grimage and start looking for the lime.

“There’s no more”, Ashley laughs, and Sam joins her.

“Asshole”. I move to the kitchen, trying to find some kind of drink to make the shot not come up again. Beth joins me.

“You look awful”

“Thank you Beth”. She gives me a beer, and I drink it as fast as I can, killing the gross aftertaste. As I look over at her, she gives me a concerning look. I finish up, another bad taste covers my insides, and I run to the sink, feeling like throwing up.

“Fuck fuck fuck”

“Shit sorry, I didn’t think you would drink that so fast!” Beth exclaims, running to the refrigerator and grabbing some orange juice. As she hands me it, I drink like a feral animal once again, determined to not let this ruin my night. Beth stands behind me, rubbing my back and holding my hair. Just in case. Nothing comes up, and after about three minutes I stand up, giving her a bitch look.

“Karma’s coming for you Beth, that’s not okay.” She’s still smiling softly at me, whispering for me to follow her. I take her hand, and she leads me to the bathroom. We both sit down on the floor, and I begin to feel my whole body pulsing. Every breath is grand, going to the edge of my fingers. Fuck, I’m going to be sick tomorrow.

“I wanted to tell you something” she starts, not looking at me.

“What”

“The others were trying to get you blasted tonight”

“You think I’m naive, of course I know that. Sam never offers alcohol to anyone, and you know how I get”

“Well, yeah. I was kind of in on it”

“I know”, I responded, laughing a little. She looks over at me.

“You’re not mad?”

“Of course not, just fun, I wanted to let a bit loose on this trip”

“You know we have an agenda?” No I didn’t. I look up at her, her face slowly moving to the side, facing me.

“And what is it?” She looks down in shame, and I get a weird feeling in my stomach. If this has something to do with Jess and Emily, I’m leaving on the spot.

“Well, notice how Josh is also…”

“A little out of it?”

“Yeah, that”. Something clicks, a switch, a lightbulb, something, and I rapidly stand up.

“Wait!” I exclaim, suddenly realising. My body is wobbling, and I grab hold of the wall so I don’t fall. Beth follows quickly, hands in the air around me in case I fall.

“You’re trying to get me with your brother?!”

“You like him don’t you?”

“Well Yeah"

“And you’re both drunk”

“So?”

“Drinks of bravery?”

“No”

“Yes”

“Absolutely not”, and I turn to leave. I go out in the hall, but she runs past me and corners me.

“Okay, listen. Maybe this wasn’t the best approach, but don’t let the rest of the night go to waste, we’re having fun. No pressure on that area, okay? You’re just having fun tonight” she explains, a bit panicked.

I can’t be mad at her, but I roll my eyes and give her a nudge, not feeling if I hit her or not. I grab her hand, and we both go to join the others. I know myself, and no matter how drunk I get, making a move on Josh is NOT something I will do. Ever.

As we’re walking down the stairs, the people have gathered in the living room. Matt is on his way to the bathroom, walking past us and smiling. Such a sweet guy. We join the others, sitting down with Josh to my left and Emily on my right. Josh leans over.

“Hey, want to get a smoke” he whispers, probably so Sam doesn’t hear. I look out the window, getting shivers just from seeing the snow.

“The weather”

“We can do it through a window.” I look at the others, who are clearly busy. Nobody’s watching, and we could probably sneak out.

“My room” he whispers, before drunkenly getting up, moving like a penguin up the stairs. He walks past Matt, who’s going down.

“Need help Josh?”

“Do I look like I need help?”

“Yes”

“No I don’t”

Everyone laughs as Josh continues up the stairs. Hannah looks worried, but ultimately starts sipping her drink again. I don’t know how much time has passed before I decide to go. Emily, Jess and Mike went to the kitchen again, but not before drawing a bunch of stuff on Chris’ face. Nobody notices me slipping away, up the stairs and out of reach.

I walk through the hall. Josh’s room is at the very end. The hall is spinning, doors getting mixed up. I open one of them, walking into a dark room. Makeup is spread throughout every counter, clothes everywhere. This is not Josh’s room. I drunkenly make my way out to the hallway again, noticing a door beside which is slightly ajar.

As I arrive in Josh's room, his window is open, cold air flying through the room, giving me goosebumps. He turns around when he hears the door close, looking me up and down and smiling. He’s already got a cigarette in his mouth. I smile back, walking towards him. As I reach for the wardrobe to hold for balance, my hand slips. He’s quick to grab my arm, making a grunting sound when pulling me up. He’s got fast reflexes for someone who’s drunk so much. As I get my balance back, he grabs a pack from his pocket, opening it and letting me pull a cigarette out.

“Got a lighter?” I ask. He smiles, taking the cylinder off my hand and holding it up to my lips. His eyebrows rise, and I take it as a sign to part my lips, leading to him placing cigarette in my mouth. His hand grabs hold of my chin, pulling me closer. He leans over, letting his burning end touch the end of mine.

“Inhale” he whispers between teeth. I comply, lighting my own through his. I stare up at him, locking eyes. He doesn’t move away. Instead, his thumb shifts from my chin to my lips, caressing lightly. I’m drunk, he’s drunk, we don’t know what we’re doing. I pull away, away from his face and hand.

“So we didn’t need a lighter” I say, leaning over to the window and blowing the smoke outside. He stands beside me, leaning over so we’re in the same position, arms brushing against each other.

“You’re cold”, he tells me, looking up worried. His hand moves to my arm, grabbing. He’s warm, too warm. I sigh when he touches me, involuntary. Fuck. I blush, hoping he thinks my redness is due to the cold.

“I don’t feel it”, I respond. A lie, but it’s okay. I’ll survive.

“Damn, drank that much?” he says, walking over to the closet.

“Not my fault”

“Really”, he sounds surprised. Walking back to me, a flannel shirt in hand.

“The others are plotting” I state, as I put my hands out, letting him put it on me. When he finishes, he doesn’t button it, but leaves it open.

“Plotting what?”

“Trying to get us together”

“Really? My sisters’ are in it too?”

“At least one of them”

“Shameless people. Trying to get her brother and best friend together”

“Yeah I know” I laugh, turning away and looking out the window once again. I take a few more drags of the cigarette, using too long, making it almost go out. He starts a new conversation.

“You know, I thought about asking you out once”. I look surprised at him, he has his signature smirk plastered on. It’s my turn to be curious.

“And?” He turns to me, looking down, I don’t know if he’s looking down my shirt or on my waist.

“Well, friend group shit. Didn’t want to fuck it up”. My heart falls a bit, a heavy feeling in my chest.

“Smart choice” I manage to answer.

“I guess”. He sounds oddly disappointed, and I force myself to be more forward.

“Especially since I would’ve said yes”

“What?” he asks, taking my cigarette and throwing it out the window.

“Hey!”

“It was basically out anyway. But are you for real?” he continues, brows furrowed, and hands grabbing my shirt on each side of my waist. My face gets hot, arms wanting to feel him.

“Yeah-”. Before I’m able to fulfil my answer, he drags me into him, chest to chest, meeting my lips in a sloppy kiss. Shocked, I pull away, walking a few steps back. I still hold onto the counter for balance, looking at him. He’s breathing heavily, a bit surprised by my response, and a little hurt.

“Sorry, I got the signs wrong” he says, looking down. I take a breath, calming myself.

“Is this a prank?”

“What”

“Is this a prank?” I say a bit louder, nearly shouting. Probably I am, I just don’t realize it.

“Why would you think that?” he asks, a bit angry.

“Because Jess and Emily were talking about some type of prank and people were getting me drunk and-” I ramble, breathing starting to get unsteady. I’m unsure about how to continue. I’m getting dizzy, needing to lay down. Josh notices. As my vision goes blurry, arms take hold of me, quickly moving me to the bed. My head is pounding, but the room doesn’t spin as much anymore. An arm is holding my head up a bit, and I feel a cold glass touch my lips. Instinctively I open my mouth, drinking the whole glass of water. He lays down beside me, and I can feel myself drifting off.

When I wake up, it’s still dark outside. Josh is sleeping, so I make my way to the bathroom. The nausea is catching up, and I make myself vomit. Several times. Luckily, this means I’ll probably be spared in the morning. My head feels lighter, in a good way. When I’m done, I drink some more water and brush my teeth. I feel refreshed, and a little happy that was it. I don’t need to be stressed about being sick.

As I walk out in the hallway again, I hear voices downstairs. They’re still up. I look at the clock, and notice I was only out for about half an hour. I decide not to join them. I’ve gotten enough tonight. As I make my way in the hallway, I notice Josh’s door which I didn’t close behind me. I walk over, looking inside. Josh is up, sitting on the side of his bed with his head in his hands. I walk inside, closing the door behind me. He doesn’t turn.

“Hey” I say, trying to put on a light tone.

“Hey”. His voice is emotionless, nothing to analyse, nothing to take from it. I walk over, sitting down in front of him on my knees. He still doesn’t look at me, only right down between his legs.

“Can we talk?” I ask. He finally lifts his face, looking into my eyes. Before I can begin, he starts.

“Do you really think I would do something like that?”

“What?”

“Toying with your feelings. Being part of Jess’ and Emily’s schemes?” Now it’s my turn to look down, shame filling my chest.

“I was so drunk Josh, still am, but I panicked, and spiralled…” I feel a tear run down the corner of my eye. I was not planning on crying, but this night had been more eventful and emotional than most. He doesn’t hesitate to dry them, catching each one with his thumbs.

“I know, now I’m the one spiralling, sorry” he whispers. I lean forward, hugging him around his waist. He hugs me back.

“I didn’t mean to pull away”, I explain, not being brave enough to look him in the eyes while confessing. He pulls me away, looking at me. I can’t decipher his face, something hopeful maybe, but not too much. It’s now or never, I must tell him. Before he can ask, I get up, lean forward, and kiss him. He doesn’t back away, instead he grabs my thighs, leading me on top of him, still on the edge of the bed. The kiss is sloppy, as we’re still drunk and a bit dizzy. His hands wander to my waist, grabbing hold of the top of my bottoms. I bite his bottom lip, making him grunt in response.

“Fuck” he mutters. Grabbing harder, making me gasp. He uses the opportunity to put his tongue in my mouth. I let him. He moves his hands, signalling me to grind on him, and I do. I want him. Bad. My body warms up, the window’s still open, but I can’t feel the cold. As I move on him, he pulls off his own flannel, before dragging my shirt off. I do the same to him. Feeling him up from the lower part of his muscular stomach to his shoulders. My breathing quickens, feeling every curve of his body with my fingertips, trying to memorise it all. He's warm, tense but calm, and I melt into his touch. I lean forward to capture his lips again, and he meets me halfway. I can feel myself getting wetter by the minute, and before I know it, he turns us around, laying my back on the bed, hovering over me. He leans down again, kissing my collar and neck. I can’t help the whines that come out of me. I feel needy, hot. I need him. He stops by my breasts, looking up.

“Do you want this?” he asks.

“Yes Josh, please. I want you”

He smiles in response, and I can’t help but mirror it.

***

Loud bangs are heard on the door. I wake up with a headache, but luckily no nausea. I poke Josh, making him wake up abruptly, grabbing his head, a painful look on his face. His headache seems worse than mine.

“Someone’s in the hallway” I say, leaning down and kissing his head.

“Fuck” he whispers. “Let’s get this over with”

“What is it?” he shouts through the door.

“Josh, we need you!” I hear Mike shout. “Your sisters are missing!”

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cameronspecial · 10 months ago

Text

A New Kind Of Normal (Part 3)

Pairing: Dad!Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: Fight With A Parent, Swearing, and Fear of Relapse

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 3.0K

Summary: Rafe has accomplished his goals and is now able to meet his daughter for the first time.

Masterlist

Over the past month, Rafe has gotten a chance to learn more about Stella from his weekly meetings with Y/N. Stella was born on May 17th, 2020 at 10:59 A.M. Her first word was Joshy, said at eleven months old when she was calling for help from her uncle Josh when her uncle Benedict would mercilessly tickle her. At two years old, she became obsessed with witches after her mother read her a book about them and it has been her favourite topic of conversation since. Her favourite colour is dark purple and her favourite food is any soup in general because she likes to pretend she is drinking a witch's potion when she eats it. The most important fact of all to Rafe: Stella Rachel Y/L/N is his little girl’s full name. Y/N had tried her best to come up with a name close to Rafe, but all the names closer she found on the internet didn’t go with Stella. Nonetheless, the action still touched him when Y/N told him that was the reason.

And now, he’ll finally get to meet his little star. His hand fidgets with the small nob on his watch, making the hands go clockwise and counterclockwise. He watches as Y/N reads over his toxicology report. She didn’t require him to do a weekly toxicology report to prove that he was staying sober, but he wanted to show her she could trust him. The logical part of him knows she won’t say that he can’t meet Stella, yet a small part of him fears she might.

The small smile she gives him relieves him of his anxiety, “This is great, Button. I’m so proud of the work you put into staying sober.” Forming a friendship with Y/N was another amazing thing that happened this month. When she started using the nickname she gave him the night Stella was conceived, he felt the air leave his lungs just like it does now. “Thanks. I was really scared that I might relapse this week after I got into an argument with my dad, but I called Diana, did some breathing exercises and looked at my picture of Stella. It all helped me get through it,” he replies truthfully. He had truly felt fear that week when he found himself on the road towards Barry’s trailer. Luckily, he was able to fight through his desire and pull over the car before he got there. Y/N nods and reaches out to place a reassuring hand on his, “Well, I’m glad you were able to recognize your craving and reach out for help with managing it. So do you want to come over after we finish our coffee?”

His lips stretch so far apart that people would think he is the Joker. He pulls out his phone to check his schedule, “No, I won’t have enough time to go home and change if I come tonight. I also need to get her a few things before I meet her. How about tomorrow afternoon? Is that okay?” “You know you don’t have to make a big deal about this with the changing and the gifts. As long as you love her and show her that love, she is going to reciprocate those feelings,” Y/N argues.

“I know, I just… Meeting her is all I have been dreaming about for the last month and I want it to be perfect. Plus, it really couldn’t hurt to get her a few bribery toys.”

“I understand how you feel. When Benny came home the week before Stella was born with the wrong colour paint for her room, I almost threw a chair at him. I wanted Finch yellow, but he got funky yellow. It didn’t matter that they were virtually the same colour. I just need her room to be exactly how I planned it. So you can come over tomorrow. Just don’t buy her too many toys.”

“I can’t be held to a gift-buying limit. I have to make up for five years.”

——

Y/N watches as Stella tries to get ready by herself, thinking about what is going to happen in just ten minutes. “Mommy, help, please,” Stella cries out for help. Y/N’s focus returns to her daughter and she has to stop herself from laughing. Stella has gotten her shirt stuck on her head because she has been trying to get her head through the armhole. Y/N approaches the young girl and helps put her head through the right hole. “You were almost there, Stells. I’m proud of you,” she praises, giving the little girl a kiss on the head. Stella shouts a thank you as she runs into her mom’s room.

Y/N follows her daughter to her room and carries Stella over to the bed. Once Stella is safely on the bed, Y/N turns toward her dresser to get her perfume. “One tiny spray for this wrist,” Y/N pushes the top of the perfume so the scent falls on her daughter’s wrist. “And one tiny spray for the other. Now, you are ready to go. Why don’t you wait in the living room for Mommy’s special guest to arrive.” The little girl runs off as her mother suggested and Y/N is left alone in her room. She looks at herself in her mirror, wondering how her life is going to change once Stella meets her dad. It’s not that Y/N doesn’t trust Rafe, he has shown her that he really is trying. It’s that Stella isn’t going to be solely Y/N’s anymore. She will have to share some parenting duties with Rafe and it feels strange for her to do that. She is the one who stayed up with Stella when she was puking all night last year. She is the one who would read the little girl a bedtime story every day. She is the one Stella goes to when she is scared. Now, Y/N is going to have to learn to let Rafe do those things too.

Rafe nervously wipes the sweat off of his palm and adjusts the hat on his head. The time on the clock shows he is five minutes early, but he can’t wait any longer. He knocks on the door and rocks on the balls of his feet. The door creaks open, yet Rafe is met with an empty doorway. It is only when he looks down that he sees the perfect little star staring up at him with her brilliant blue eyes. “Stella Rachel Y/L/N, what have I told you about answering the door to strangers?” Y/N scolds, walking into the room with an adorable motherly look. Stella looks back at her mother with a pouty look, “I’m sorry, Mommy. But I knows we were going to have a special guest.”

Rafe is in awe at how adorable she is, but he takes this as his chance to do the first fatherly act he will ever do. “Your mother is right, Stella. What if I was a stranger?” he poses, kneeling down to her level. She gives him wide eyes, “But you weren’t. You are the man who Mommy yelled at.” Her words cause pain to shoot through his heart. The first memory his little girl has of him is his argument with her mother. Y/N can see the hurt that crosses Rafe’s face and beckons the pair away from the doorway. “Yes, he is, Baby. But he apologized to Mommy and we are friends again. Did you see his hat?” Y/N points out. The small blue eyes move from his face up to his head and her eyes turn to delight. “You’re wearing a witch’s hat!” she exclaims, reaching up to her father’s head to try it on. “Can I try it on, please?” Glad that his conversation start is working, he takes the hat off and places it on her tiny head. Everyone giggles as the big hat falls over her eyes.

Now, that the ice has been sufficiently broken, Y/N decides it is time to make the introduction Rafe has been waiting for. “Stella, do you know why I asked my special friend to come visit?” Y/N sits on the couch, bringing Stella on her lap. The little girl shakes her head and rests it on her mother’s chest. “He’s your Daddy, Baby.” The excitement in his daughter’s eyes as she turns toward him sends him over the moon. The tiny girl flings herself into her arms and screams his new name. He never thought someone would call him those words, but now it’s the only one he wants to hear. “Does that mean you can play witch with me? I have a hat you can borrow.” With her now in his arms, he can smell the familiar vanilla fragrance of Y/N’s perfume. It makes him smile that she wants to be just like her mommy. Before he can answer, she runs off to her room to get her toys. She returns dragging a big plastic cauldron behind her. Rafe feels his father's instinct kick in. He jumps off of the couch and runs over to pick her and the cauldron up in his arms. Stella looks at him in awe, “Wow, my Daddy is super strong.” This absolutely kills him and he kisses her on the cheek.

——

Y/N, Stella and Rafe have spent the afternoon playing various games their daughter wanted to play. When it got closer to dinner time, the three of them worked together to make something to eat. “Button, can you please pour me some more water?” Y/N asks, holding up her glass for him to do it. He picks up the water pitcher and pours it for her, “Of course, Buttercup.” Stella may be three and eleven months old, but she is very observant. Throughout the afternoon, she noticed the tiny glances Rafe would send Y/N’s way. She noticed how his hand would reach to find her skin, yet it never seemed to land. She noticed how he would always ask for Y/N’s approval. And just now, she saw how his lips formed a massive smile because of her mother’s attention.

The small girl starts to form a plan in her head; she can see how much her father is pining for her mother. He clearly needs her help. “Mommy, I like Daddy’s hair. Do you?” she questions, looking back and forward between her parents. Y/N looks up from her food to look at Rafe, “I do like his hair. It looks nice when the front of his hair falls down like a little curtain.” He stops mid-stab of the pasta to look up at her through his lashes. “I’ll take note of that then, Buttercup,” he brings his hand up to hide the blush on his cheeks. Stella is very satisfied with the results of the beginning of her plan. She feels like a genius. Y/N doesn’t know that she is going to regret letting Stella watch Hallmark movies with her.

——

After dinner, Rafe is preparing for the roughly hour-and-a-half drive back to the Outer Banks. Stella is holding on to Rafe for dear life because she isn’t ready for him to go. “Mommy, why can’t Daddy stay?” she begs, looking at her mother sadly. Y/N frowns at her daughter, “I’m sorry, Baby. Not yet, there is nowhere for him to sleep. Plus, Daddy has work tomorrow and you have daycare.” Rafe can see the struggle Y/N is having with saying no to Stella and he helps her out. “How about I go over to the diner on Friday? I’ll be there when you get back from daycare. Maybe I’ll even have a surprise,” he offers, whispering the last part in her ear.

The darling’s eyes light up like a Christmas tree and loosens her arms from his neck. “Okay! I can’t wait to see you. Bye, Daddy. I love you,” she bids adieu. She hops down from his arms and runs to get ready for bed. The quicker she goes to bed, the faster Friday comes. Rafe calls back I love you. The two adults laugh at the child as they watch her run off. The laughter dies down and Y/N turns her body toward Rafe. “It’s okay that I come by on Friday, right?” Rafe confirms with a hopeful smile.

“Of course, as long as you are sober, I won’t stop you from seeing her. The extra business is good too.”

“Haha, I’ll make sure to deposit my paycheck before I go in then. Also, please let me know if you need anything. Money for food, rent, toys, clothes, tuition. Anything, okay. I want to pull my weight. She’s my daughter too.”

“I will, I promise. Thank you for coming over tonight. You made her day.”

They both look at each other for a second and then notice the time. “I should probably get going. It’s getting late,” Rafe concludes, taking a step closer to the door. Y/N tries to hide her slight disappointment, “Uh, yeah. Drive safe. See you on Friday.” Rafe nods his head and opens the door. “See you on Friday.” Y/N stays by the door as she watches Rafe walk down her driveway. She waves goodbye to him as he gets into his car and drives away. Once he is out of sight, she closes the door and reflects on the day. It was strange to have Rafe there, but she doesn’t regret the decision. She saw how much he cared for Stella and it solidified the idea in her mind that he is meant to be a father. This is a new kind of normal that she can get used to.

——

Since Sarah and Rafe moved out of Tannyhill, Ward insisted on having family dinner every week. Everyone knows Sarah’s departure is the main reason why Ward wanted to do so, especially since Ward tried to have just Sarah come to dinner. However, thanks to Sarah, Ward gave in to inviting Rafe. Most dinners start with Ward getting small talk with Rafe about work out of the way before he moves on with asking Sarah about a full second-by-second breakdown of her week. And this Wednesday is not any different, but Rafe has something else other than work to talk to his dad about.

“Actually, Dad, there is something I want to talk to you about,” Rafe brings to the table, looking Ward dead in his eyes. Ward stops chewing, not really expecting Rafe to have anything else to say. Ward tilts the end of his fork toward Rafe, “Okay, what is it?” “I have a daughter. Her name is Stella. She is three years old, almost four. And she looks exactly like me,” Rafe gets everything out in one go. He may have known about Stella for a month now, but he didn’t want to tell his family until he knew he could step up and be the person his daughter needed. This causes everyone at the table to freeze and look at Rafe in surprise. Ward’s eyes narrow; his brows become one. “What do you mean?” he gets out in a rough tone.

“I mean that five years ago, I had sex with Y/N and she had a baby nine months after that. I didn’t know about Stella until last month. I didn’t want to tell you guys until I was a month sober and certain that I could be there for her.”

“You better tell me that this is a joke because I can’t believe that you could be that much of a screw-up. How do you even know she is your daughter?”

“I told you, she looks exactly like me.”

“How do you know that’s not because you want to believe she does? How do you know that bitch isn’t lying to you? You were so useless that you didn’t even get a paternity.”

Rafe stands up at what Ward calls Y/N and points a finger at his father. “You have no right to call her that. I know she isn’t lying because I trust her. I won’t make her get a paternity test,” he yells. Ward lets out a low chuckle, “Okay, fine. Do whatever you want. But I’m going to need you to get a lawyer and write up a contract for child support if that’s what the bitch is after. There is no way you are actually going to raise that kid.” “You need to stop calling the mother of your granddaughter a bitch. And why can’t I raise my daughter? You are always telling me I need to take responsibility and I am. Why can’t you just be proud of me?” he argues, his anger getting to a whole other level. The other members of the dinner see that this fight is not about to end any time soon, so Sarah steps in. “Dad, stop. This isn’t going anywhere. And you should be proud of Rafe. He overcame his addiction just so that he could be a better father. That’s amazing and I’m proud of him for that. I, for one, am excited to meet my niece,” Sarah reasons. Wheezie butts in too, “I want to meet Stella too.” Rafe gives them a thankful smile but gets up angrily.

“Thank you guys for your support. I’ll talk to Y/N to find out when you can meet Stells. Dad, I wish I could say that I am surprised but I’m not,” he begins. “No matter what I do, I will never compare to Sarah and I won’t force you to meet your granddaughter. I think I’m going to go. Goodbye.” Rafe storms out of the house and slams the door. He gets to his truck and is about to drive away, yet he knows he shouldn’t. If he goes now, he is scared it will lead him to Barry’s. Instead, he pulls out his phone and dials a number that recently entered his contacts. “Hey, Button. Is everything okay?” Her voice is like a light guiding him back to home base. He vehemently shakes his head, “No, I’m not. Do you have time to talk?” Y/N immediately stops what she is doing and gives him her full attention for the whole night.

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