#wood cup render

[eris1521987]

A Wooden cup I modeled and textured back when I was in High School.

[averlym]

ghost story premiere day! check @melliotwrites for more info

[volturissideslut]

Could we see Emmett with a size kink??? I feel like he would end up splitting them in two. I also really feel like he would get off on being bigger than his partner!!!

𝕰𝖒𝖒𝖊𝖙𝖙 𝕮𝖚𝖑𝖑𝖊𝖓

OF COURSE WE CAN

Yes, Emmett loves the size difference between the two of you. Innocent things like reaching over your head to grab something, opening tricky jars for you and picking you up with ease. And yes, he'd let you put a bow on his arm and then flex for you

However not all of it is oh so innocent.

Very few people can make a nice walk through the woods with your partner the best sex of your life, but Emmett is one of them.

The tree he had you up against has been far more than splintered, and now lies destroyed on the floor.

He had given up on hoping you would be supported by anything from the force of his thrusts, and now he just lifts you effortlessly with his hands on your thighs. One big hand of his covering so much of underneath you

Tucked all nicely into his chest, biting the fabric of his shirt is the only way to even somewhat muffle the moans you're letting out. Not that it's much use, the way he's stretching you out so deliciously feels too good to for coherent thoughts, let alone think to muffle yourself properly.

Realistically, the only thing moving is his arms as they slam you up and down on his cock and simultaneously show of the taut muscles on his upper arms, feet dangling over his broad shoulders.

Not that this is the only time he uses the size of his arms to his advantage, no. Once he had you stood in front of a mirror so you could see how large he was in comparison. Hands so big cupping your boobs that bras would be rendered useless, fingers so thick in you that thoughts are rendered useless.

And yes, he would let you put a bow on it.

[sserpente]

Magic Hands

Synopsis: Astarion teaches you how to use a dagger in battle. The sweaty training calls for a bath in the nearby river afterward and you can’t help but admire the vampire rogue in the pale moonlight, surrounded by the glistening water surface. He seems… tense. Perhaps you can repay him by giving him a gentle massage?

A/N: Why did this take me so long to write, oh my gods! :D

Words: 2038 Warnings: smut, mentions of sexual trauma

Your battle cry echoed across the entire campsite when you plunged your blade forward. Lae’zel’s makeshift mind flayer dummy was rendered with holes at this point, oozing hey from several rips in the old fabric she had used to craft it.

The impact had you sway to one side and you shifted your weight, your left arm flailing about clumsily.

“Good. Now try that again without losing your balance.”

You grunted, shooting him an angry glance. He had his sleeves rolled up, and his arms crossed before his chest. It was almost distracting. Almost.

You had been at it for hours. Granted, it had been your idea—if you were going to survive this involuntary adventure, you might as well learn how to defend yourself. You were surprised you’d even made it this far. And, since attacking from the shadows was much more your cup of tea than storming headfirst into battle like Wyll or Lae’zel, you’d kindly asked Astarion to help you out.

He was a tough and strict teacher, you had to give him that. But you were making quick progress too. Before today, you hadn’t even been able to hold a dagger properly.

You withdrew your weapon and returned to your original position.

“Ah-ah-ah. No, darling. What did we just learn?” His teasing voice went down like butter. That was even more distracting.

Astarion pointed at your left foot. You shifted in the dirt, creating a grovelling noise.

“There we go. Now try again.”

You did as you were told, lunging at the dummy once more. Astarion tutted at you when you lost your balance yet again.

“Hey, don’t tut me!”

“I see where the problem lies now. Go on. Get back in position.”

Grunting once more, you obeyed. What you were not prepared for, however, was that he would step right behind you and place his hands on your stomach and waist. You sucked in a deep breath, tensing up.

“Keep tension here. You’ll want to make sure that lovely core of yours keeps you on your feet.”

Memories from your night in the woods came flooding back, sending you down a spiral of pleasure and arousal. You cleared your throat.

“Okay. I got it. I think.”

The sensation of loss was nearly overwhelming when he let go again. You could have sworn you saw him smirk from the corner of your eye.

You got into position again, took a deep breath, and… struck.

“Good girl.” You would have dropped the dagger had it not been lodged deeply within the mindflayer dummy. “Again.”

Again. Again and again and again until Astarion was certain you got the hang of it. Your arms were burning by the time he clapped and finally let you off the hook for the day.

“Be honest, you’re enjoying this a little.”

The vampire smirked. “More than just a little, darling.”

Heat crept up your cheeks, forcing you to bite your lower lip. “Whatever. I should get washed.”

“Hmm, so should I.”

You offered him a smile. Making your way toward the lake, you walked past Lae’zel who was sharpening her sword, Karlach who was dancing to a song only audible to her, and Gale practicing little magic tricks. Wyll and Halsin were with Shadowheart, talking and drinking by the fireplace.

You sighed. It could have been peaceful if it wasn’t for the imminent threat of a tadpole turning you all into thralls.

Once you reached the shore, there was no hesitation in your movements. You stripped off your clothes, knowing the bushes would hide you from unwanted eyes. As for Astarion… well… there was nothing he hadn’t seen before.

The vampire followed suit though you did notice that he avoided your gaze as he undressed. You couldn’t help but watch him regardless as he waded into the water until he was submerged hip-deep.

“You look really fine in the moonlight, you know that?” you said, joining him swiftly.

“Of course I do, I’m a vampire, darling.” He swam closer to you, allowing you to wrap your entire body around him. Astarion’s hands found your behind, squeezing gently.

“That’s not what I meant,” you whispered. His lips were cold when you met them with yours, a playful kiss soon turning into a passionate display of affection.

By the time you finally broke apart panting, Astarion rolled his shoulders with a groan.

“Is everything alright? You seem even tenser than me.”

“Oh well, it can’t be helped. Must be the weight of being a hero on my shoulders,” he spat with dismay. Oh yeah… he’d made it clear his interest in saving the refugees was ridiculously small. You had your theories on that… yet there was no way in the hells Astarion was a terrible person but rather… a person terrible things had happened to. The scars on his back spoke for themselves.

“I could help with that if you want,” you said before you could stop yourself.

“Help? How?”

“This is gonna sound silly but I used to work as a massage therapist for a few years, back in Baldur’s Gate, I mean. I have magic hands. I know a lot of techniques to relieve back pain and back tension…” You trailed off, studying his reaction.

“Magic hands?”

Astarion narrowed his eyes at you and somehow, you knew exactly what was going on in his mind. Relieving a different kind of tension at your celebration with the Tieflings was one thing… having someone work his back and stroke every inch of exposed skin with skilled hands, right over the scars that had brought him so much torment… that was another.

“You want to… well… I…”

“If you want to?”

“Well… I suppose…”

You tilted your head. He wanted to accept, you could tell. But was that… concern glistening in his red eyes?

“You know, I’m, uh… I’m not offering this to have sex with you again. I mean… I really, really enjoyed myself, Astarion but… I honestly feel like that’s the reason you’re being wary, isn’t it? Along with me, um… touching your scars.”

His lips parted.

“I just want to help. And only if you’ll let me.”

“Alright… fine.”

You nodded, the tension you didn’t realise had been building up inside of you leaving your body.

“Then come find me in my tent later.”

You left him some privacy after your swim, returning to your makeshift home to find anything you could use as a massage oil. You settled for an ointment in the end, one that Halsin usually used to treat wounds. It would do. You could hardly use a bottle of grease after all.

You were rather certain Astarion waited until the others were asleep on purpose. When he parted the fabric of your makeshift door and crouched down a little to come inside, you patted your bedroll and smiled at him.

His coyness was adorable. While before his heart-breaking confession, every single word that had left his lips was a flirt, he was but a frightened young man now, intimidated by intimacy.

“Lie down, my love. And… Astarion?”

His red eyes met yours as he followed your request and removed his shirt, once again revealing those horrifying scars to you.

“You need to stop me if you’re feeling uncomfortable, alright?”

The vampire spawn smirked. “How could I possibly feel uncomfortable with your skilled hands dancing over my body, pet?”

“You know what I mean.” You grinned, relieved that his smarm was not lost on him.

“Of course.”

“Now lie down on your belly and close your eyes.”

Astarion sighed and did as he was told. You straddled him, trifling some of the oil on your hands and rubbing them together before eventually… placing your palms on his bare back.

Your fingers glided over the ridges of his scars, your thumbs digging into the muscles, looking for any tension. You found it all too quickly, working knot after knot out of his tormented back.

Soon enough, he relaxed. His sigh was so innocent you couldn’t help but lean forward and place a gentle kiss between his shoulder blades.

You pampered him for a while, making sure to massage each and every spot on his back. You did not fail to miss the faint moan when you asked him to turn over so you could work on the rest of his body. Gods, you were enjoying this even more than he was.

Astarion’s gaze was filled with repose and… hunger. And when your eyes travelled further down, your lips parted and you realised why.

He was hard.

“Do you… do you want me to stop?”

“Don’t… you… dare…” he muttered, eyes half-closed still.

You bit your lower lip, oily hands gliding over his chest. It wasn’t just him. You were as wet as the river you’d bathed in just a few hours back and now that you were aware just how much your sensual treatment affected him, the arousal was nearly unbearable.

Breathing heavily, you swallowed and paused.

“How about… I have an idea.”

He sat up a little, propping himself on his elbows. “Oh?”

His sly smirk caught you entirely off guard though you were unsure whether he was merely trying to hide his insecurity behind it. He’d told you he didn’t want you to think of him in terms of sex for now and you would respect that wish. There was no need for you to act on your own excitement even if it drove you insane. But if he let you… you wanted to make him feel good so badly that it almost caused you physical discomfort.

“I could… take care of… that,” you muttered, pointing at the growing bulge in his trousers.

Astarion raised his eyebrows, passion glistening in those red eyes.

“Let me pamper you. No sex. I might as well give you a… full body massage at this point. And if it gets too much, you stop me.”

“We… we could try.” He nodded, lying back down but keeping his eyes wide open as you opened his trousers with gentle movements and pulled his erection free.

Astarion flinched when your oily hand wrapped around his hardening length, fingertips teasing him tenderly.

“Okay?”

He nodded.

“I need you to tell me with words, my love.”

Astarion cleared his throat. “Okay. That feels… nice.”

One thing you realised very quickly was that he had never experienced anything like this before. Someone who wished for nothing more than to bring him pleasure, to make him feel good, without expecting anything in return. To give him back his sensuality where only he and his well-being mattered without his body being sexualised or objectified…

It must have been such a novel concept to him… biting your lower lip, you began to stroke him with firm yet tender touches, your thumb gliding over his slit and rubbing over his tip.

He squirmed, bucking his hips in response with a quiet moan. It was enough of a reaction to urge you on, your movements quickening and adapting to his rapid breathing.

You paused when he uttered your name with a start.

“No… no, don’t stop, my love… don’t you dare stop…”

So you kept going, driving him to the edge with hungry ferocity. Gods, he looked so delicious. So carefree and innocent all because of you…

“I… I… I will…”

Astarion thrust up into your hands, his eyes rolling to the back of his head. Pleasure flushed his entire face, his lips parting. He tensed up, his thighs shaking and his fingers clutching at the soft material of your bedroll. He came all over your hands and knuckles, ropes of seed clear evidence of his release. You helped him ride it out, squeezing every last drop from his pretty cock until he was spent and panting, his body relaxing again bit by bit.

“You look so beautiful when you come undone…” you whispered, wiping your hands on some rags you kept nearby.

He chuckled. “And you do have magic hands. I might have to ask you to do that again soon.”

You smiled, cuddling up to him with a smile. Neither of you bothered to get undressed completely. You were perfectly fine with falling asleep like this.

“Anytime, Astarion. Always.”

[wolvietxt]

Congrats on 1000!!!!! 🥳

How about Daryl with this prompt? ❤️

secret talent: sunshine finds out grumpy has a hidden skill, like playing an instrument or drawing. sunshine keeps encouraging them to show it off, and grumpy tries to act like it’s no big deal but secretly enjoys the praise

THE CABIN smelled faintly of wood smoke and pine, cozy and warm as you settled into the couch with your cup of tea. daryl was at the far end of the room, tinkering with his crossbow, muttering something about the sights being off. it was a quiet evening, the kind you’d come to cherish out here in the middle of nowhere.  

that’s when you noticed it - a sketchbook poking out of the half-open drawer by the desk. it wasn’t like daryl to leave things out of place, and your curiosity got the better of you.  

“what’s this?” you asked, standing up and plucking the book from the drawer.  

his head snapped up immediately, eyes narrowing. “don’t go diggin’ through my stuff.”  

“it was already sticking out,” you said, flipping it open before he could stop you. your breath caught at the first page - a detailed drawing of a deer mid-leap, its muscles and fur rendered with startling precision.  

“daryl,” you breathed, glancing at him. “you drew this?”  

he grunted, shifting awkwardly in his chair. “ain’t nothin’ special.”  

“are you kidding me? this is amazing!” you walked over, flipping through more pages. there were sketches of birds, trees, even a portrait of carol that captured her sharp eyes and soft smile perfectly.  

“stop,” he muttered, reaching for the book, but you held it away, grinning.  

“why didn’t you tell me you could draw? you’re so talented!”  

his ears turned red, and he scowled. “it ain’t no big deal. just somethin’ i do sometimes.”  

“not a big deal? this is incredible.” you sat beside him, laying the sketchbook on your lap and pointing to a drawing of a bear. “look at this! the detail, the shading… you’re an artist, daryl.”  

“i ain’t no artist,” he grumbled, but there was a flicker of something in his expression - pride, maybe, or at least a hint of satisfaction.  

you leaned closer, resting your head on his shoulder. “you should show people these. they’d love them.”  

he stiffened slightly but didn’t pull away. “nah. ain’t for showin’ off. just for me.”  

“well, i love them,” you said, turning the page to a sketch of a rabbit. “and i love you.”  

his hand settled on your knee, rough and warm. “you’re just sayin’ that.”  

“no, i mean it. you’ve got a real gift, daryl.”  

he was quiet for a moment, then let out a soft huff. “well don’t you go makin’ a big deal outta it.”  

you smiled, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “too late.”  

the evening went on, with you occasionally flipping through the sketchbook and gushing over his work while he tried to act annoyed. but you could see the way his lips twitched, like he was trying not to smile.  

later, as you were cleaning up the mugs from your tea, you caught him at the desk, pencil in hand, sketching something new. you walked up behind him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and resting your chin on his head.  

“what are you working on?”  

“nothin’.”  

you peeked over his shoulder, grinning when you saw the beginnings of a sketch - your face, soft lines shaping your features.  

“that’s me,” you said, your voice filled with wonder.  

“don’t get all mushy,” he muttered, but he didn’t stop drawing.  

“too late,” you teased, pressing a kiss to his temple.  

he finally set the pencil down, turning to face you. his blue eyes were softer than usual, and his hands settled on your hips. “you really like ‘em?”  

“daryl,” you said, cupping his face. “i love them. and i love you.”  

his lips twitched again, and this time, he didn’t bother hiding the smile. “guess i don’t mind hearin’ that.”  

you leaned in, capturing his mouth in a kiss, slow and sweet. his arms tightened around you, pulling you closer until there was no space left between you. when you finally pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours, his voice low and rough.  

“you’re somethin’ else, you know that?”  

“so are you,” you whispered, your heart full as you kissed him again.  

[scarletttries]

The Magic Touch (BG3 Gale x Reader Request)

Pairing: Gale of Waterdeep x Reader

Rating: Explicit Smut - Gender neutral pronouns throughout, but AFAB reader for smut purposes

Word Count: 2.5k

Author's Note: Thank you to the anon that just sent me the prompt of 'inappropriate use of mage hand' please know I have thought of little else since, so here you go! Reminder that my inbox is open for BG3 requests and headcanons :)

The Magic Touch

It started with just an innocent teasing remark. An off-hand playful comment at the end of a long day of adventuring. One you didn't think your darling boyfriend Gale would take quite so personally.

Gale had been especially clingy with you that afternoon strolling through the woods, the party taking much longer than usual to find a suitable spot to set up camp. His arm snaked around your waist as the two of you walked at the back of the group, Gale taking the slightest moment of privacy to land a kiss on your cheek, or your neck, or to whisper in your ear how stunningly beautiful you look in the setting sunlight. You were used to him showering you with affections, but even by his standards he seemed undeniably attentive, his gaze barely leaving your expression to the extent you had to stop him tripping over his own feet more than once as the two you trailed behind everyone else. You could see the darkening desire in his eyes as dusk descended and by the time you heard Karlach calling out that she'd found a spot to set up camp, Gale's breath was almost ragged with his need to be close to you.

"Let's set up our tent and hurry away before anyone spots us my love. I can't bear another moment of being apart from you." He muttered below his breath, racing off to find a quiet moment until you caught his wrist and spun him back around.

"Not yet, lover boy," you chuckled, "we should at least help make up the campfire and share a drink with the others - it's been a long day for everyone after all." You could see the gears turning in Gale's mind as he drew closer to you, wrapping both arms around your waist and pulling you flush with his chest,

"We can do all that once we've had some time alone my stunning deity," his voice was trying to ooze sultry confidence, but the sheer desperation shone through, undermining his attempts at charisma "after all you can't resist these magic hands, can you?" His fingers brushed along your lower back as if to answer the question for you, his delicate touch rendering you speechless on more than one occasion. Just as you thought about conceding to his whims and seeing how quick you two could pitch your tent before anyone could ask for help, you heard Karlach call out again,

"A bit of help here please!"

"I guess just this one I can resist your magic touch." You reluctantly released yourself from Gale's grasp and headed towards the Barbarian's pleas, hearing your now pouting wizard whisper behind you,

"For now."

***

It didn't take too long to get the camp set up with the whole party helping out, and as the last flickers of daylight settled below the horizon you found yourself settled on a rounded tree stump gazing into the roaring fire. Gale had been uncharacteristically quiet as the group began swapping tales and echoing folk stories from their pasts, something the wizard would usually take great pride in his contributions to. As Astarion circled the group again, pouring yet another healthy glass of wine to anyone who didn't move their cup out of the way quick enough, you finally caught Gale's eye in what should have been a moment of relief. But instead of the usual warm smile, or even slightly disappointed gaze he would sport when forced to sit across from you instead of next to, he was sporting an almost sinister smirk. One that made a shiver run through your spine in anticipation. His eyes were flooded with intensity as he kept his gaze fixed on you, completely ignoring the conversation happening alongside him as he stared you down for what felt like an eternity. You could feel your stomach start to flutter as he raked his gaze over every inch of you, struggling not to squirm in your seat as it almost felt like a hand gently caressed your ankle and set your skin ablaze.

It wasn't until you saw the slight tilt of Gale's head that you realised you weren't just feeling the pressure of his gaze, you could feel his hand, his magical mage hand, softly stroking the skin of your calf. Unseen and ethereal, you could only furrow your brow at the spot the sensation was emanating from, turning your view back to Gale who seemed to be enjoying that you couldn't tell exactly where he was going with this yet. You offered him a sweet smile, an acknowledgement of his gentle touch, the affectionate gesture he could offer from the other side of a roaring fire and without distracting your companions. You could see him chuckle into his goblet of wine as the invisible hand started to drift higher, settling on your left knee for a moment and squeezing lightly.

You turned your attention back to the group; Wyll and Karlach had started acting out the highlights from today's turns of combat. The weight of the hand started to slowly shift off your knee, rising again until you could feel your stomach flip. The magical fingertips were tracing shapes over your inner thigh, the same way Gale would whenever the two of you were tangled up in nothing but your sheets. Your eyes widened as they darted back to Gale, who was now pretending to be captivated by the theatrics happening alongside him, only occasionally deigning to glance your way to see the effects of his wizardry.

You could feel your face heat up from more than just the fire as the ghostly sensation crept higher and higher, the touch so featherlight it could only stir up desire without providing any relief. You tried shifting slightly in your seat, trying to keep the movement subtle enough to not attract attention, but unwittingly only moving your knees slightly further apart and giving Gale even more access to your now aching core. You had to bite your lip to keep in a whimper as the otherworldly fingertips stroked over your folds, the fabric in the way not providing any obstacle to Gale's magic touch, leaving you completely at his mercy.

He couldn't resist staring right at you now, challenging you to resist him as you had earlier claimed that you could, each delicate brush of his hand only stirring up more pulsing desire in the pit of your stomach. You tried to take a deep breath and brace yourself for what you thought was coming, waiting for the lingering touch to sweep sweetly over your clit with all the expertise that Gale showed you every time you lay together. You clenched and waited and focused on remaining composed, but no delicious pressure landed on that most sensitive part of you, Gale opting instead to play tantalisingly around it, giving you more and more sensation but never where you needed him to. It was torture to feel yourself squirming under his hungry gaze, getting wetter and more desperate but with no relief in sight.

"Are you alright there soldier?" It took you a second to release Karlach was talking to you, noticing the uncomfortable way you jolted in place as the mage hand froze upon hearing her voice.

"Uhuh, fine." You managed to mumble out, betrayed by a slight quiver in your voice that you could see Gale grin at from the corner of your eye.

"You're looking quite flushed dear, perhaps I was a bit generous with my pours." Astarion chuckled darkly as he tipped his own goblet back. You could barely concentrate on speaking with the building frustration of the now motionless hand still settled so close to where you really needed it. You wanted it to move again, even though it would only tease you further. You needed to pounce on Gale but you knew that would only prove him right and embolden him to do this again. But more than anything you needed to feel some friction or relief or pressure to turn this endless sensation into the overwhelming pleasure you knew it was building to. Avoiding Gale's eyeline you feigned feeling your own cheeks for warmth and then nodded your head,

"I fear you may be right Astarion, the day and the wine seems to have caught up with me, so I will take my leave for the night now." You made a little awkward bow as you turned your back on the group and took a first uneasy step towards your tent. Your legs seemed to wobble under the pressure as you inched away from the group, only to find the invisible fingers settled against your thigh pleased enough by your actions that they quickly turned their attention to where you needed it most. You choked out a moan as the ghostly touch started to brush over your clit, strumming in perfect rhythm as it plunged into folds as well, leaving you just on the brink of ecstasy as you fought to open the front of your tent, hands trembling with excitement.

With the fabric obscuring you from view, you practically fell onto your bed roll, struggling to take a full breath as the haunting digits continued the overwhelming motions between your legs. You couldn't remember how it felt before you were helpless to Gale's magical actions, every nerve in your being alight as the master of your pleasure finally appeared through the entrance of your tent.

"Did you ha-" His smug sentiment was cut off immediately as you dragged his lips against yours, whining into his mouth in your frustrated state and almost breaking his concentration on his undeniably magic touch. He greedily accepted your kiss, tongue lapping forward to swallow your moans as his arms wrapped firmly around you. Pulling back he took a moment to take in his view; your face was flushed with excitement, legs and hips trembling beneath him as you continued to get more and more overstimulated from his spell without any course of retaliation. Your lips had fallen open in a slow string of whimpers and Gale couldn't help but thank every past version of himself that studied the magic that led him here.

"My my, I really did get you all worked up, didn't I? Are you ready to admit you can't resist me now?" You were already too far gone to argue, and seeing him so confident and sexy only had you down worse for the wizard, but as if to seal your fate the hand between your legs that had been so close to finally offering you sweet release stilled again, and you could feel your body retreating from its peak.

"Please Gale, I need you, I can't resist you." Your brain was too foggy with overwhelming need to care about winning this argument, something Gale would tease you about later, but he could already feel himself straining against his britches and now that he finally had you alone he wasn't going to deny either of you what you wanted a moment longer.

"I can't resist you either. You really are quite amazing." He sighed out lovingly as he made quick work of freeing you both from the confines of your clothes, no longer willing to let anything come between you. Your arms felt heavy as you clung to Gale's broad shoulders, even feeling the weight of his body on top of yours causing you to buck your hips, desperate to feel him touch you again. His hands slowly raked over your chest, pulling the fabric of your blouse off your shoulders until your chest was exposed to him. His thumbs brushed over your nipples playfully and you moaned at yet another part of your body exploding with sensation, tears almost pricking in your eyes as your core ached to feel him.

"Gale!" You pleaded again, the gentle wizard knowing exactly what you needed before you ever had to ask. Your folds were soaked from the attention of his mage hand, Gale's thick member sheathing itself inside you as the invisible fingers sprung back to life rubbing your clit in soft circles, perfectly matching the rhythm of Gale's desperate hips.

"Gods, I fear I was truly made for you sweetheart." Gale groaned out the praise as he felt your warm walls clench around him, responding to finally being full after a painfully slow build up of pleasure. You wanted to sigh out a similarly sweet sentiment, but as you felt yourself stretch around his length, his warm hands playing with your nipples as his illusioned fingers toyed with your throbbing clit, you could do nothing else but pant his name, crying out over and over in the sweetest prayer Gale had ever heard.

You could feel your body quickly pick up where your excitement had dropped off, the overwhelming rush of pleasure echoing through every fibre of your being. Gale's muscular legs had your thighs pinned apart as he thrust into you, stopping your attempts to clench them or do anything to alleviate the absolute rush of sensation that flooded your senses and left you shaking as you finally the pressure inside you spill over. You could hear Gale moan as you dug your nails into his shoulders and clenched around him, wave after wave of euphoria finally releasing from your centre after his torturous teasing. His arms started to tense and clench around you as his release quickly followed, a groaned echo of your name mumbled into your shoulder as his eyes fought to remain open, drinking in every second of your pleasure like it was his own.

The two of you panted, faces so close you could see the sheen of sweat on Gale's face, the first sign that tonight had been as demanding of his restraint as it had of yours. Your exhausted hand rose to brush an errant lock of dark hair behind his ear, a sweet gesture that left Gale powerless to the draw of your lips, lowering himself to kiss you much more gently this time. You could feel the pinch of his cheeks as he smiled against your lips, grateful to finally have the precious alone time with you he had been craving all day.

"I'm sorry for my underhanded tactics my love." He sighed softly against your lips, eyes searching yours for any hint of malice or distaste. Instead he was met with the same hunger he had been gazing at you with all night, the hairs on the back of his neck standing up as you smirked,

"You will be when you see some of the spell scrolls I'm thinking about right now."

[luvvrz]

Blurred Lines [Logan / Reader, 18+]

AKA: You and your roommate have something unspoken going on, but the author is half-asleep writing and hoping to god my words make any sense at all because they did NAWT proofread

Additional tags: female reader, friends to lovers, oral stimulation, worship

OTHER WORKS

The way Logan ate was, well... as animalistic as expected.

In his defense, he was a goddamn animal - attempting to housetrain a man like that was like trying to teach a goldfish how to drive.

As he began to chow down, you moved across the kitchen. Your apartment wasn't very big, but it was more than enough for the two of you - though, it was pretty humurous seeing his bulking form squished into one of your tiny kitchen chairs.

He smells of outdoors, of blood and sweat. He could use a bath, no doubt, but there was something enticing about that earthy scent, masculine in nature - so overwhelmingly Logan.

Christ, the two of you were walking a bit of a blurred line, here.

You'd been roommates for God knows how long, now. Sure, there was a bit of flirting here and there, but you always maintained your distance. You get too close to the Wolverine, you get burnt.

As you flutter about like some kind of butterfly, hazel eyes track after you, watching how your pajamas cling to your curves, how your body shifts and stretches. It's almost a tease, the way you bend and move around. His body responds in kind, and he has to shift on the chair to adjust himself discreetly.

Logan takes another bite of his dinner to clear that thought, noticing how the taste of the meat and veggies doesn't do much to quench that heat. He'd give a kidney for some whiskey to take the edge off, but he's all out - though, unbeknownst to him, you know him like the back of your hand.

Even so, you fail notice the way he adjusts himself discreetly in his jeans, or the way his eyes drag over your form. You don't have superhuman senses like he, but you do know him. You know his drinking habits, and you know from the look on his face that his stash is all but dry. You don't even turn to face him as you gather two glasses from the cabinet, before reaching into the pantry.

Whiskey - a freshly bought bottle, from the looks of it.

You take your time, placing a few ice cubes in each cup, before filling them upwards. To the brim, just like he did. You lacked supernatural instincts, but you were observant enough.

"You look thirsty."

The irony of that sentence is lost on you.

You don't wait for a response before you're slipping into the seat across from him, pushing the amber filled glass across the wood. It's enough to render him speechless, a feat not often accomplished - yet, he finds himself almost choking on his dinner. What were you, a goddamn mind reader? Those eyes were wide, unbelieving as they flickered from the glass, to your almost smug face.

"Where'd ya' get this, Bub?"

His voice is barely a grunt as he leans forwards in his seat, calloused hand slipping around the cup. His gaze is back on the glass, tracing the condensation racing down the side for only a moment before he's taking a long swig. It burns going down, and he's grateful for the feeling - a temporary respite from the tension.

"And you? You don't drink whiskey."

This makes you huff a laugh, much to his amusement. There's something alluring about the way you swirl your own glass almost absentmindedly, the alcohol within like liquid gold as your eyes meet his over the rim. There's something intense in the air, electric and dangerous, enough to make him look away almost instantly. For a moment, the room is silent, save for the sound of ice clinking together in some kind of bizarre symphony, before you're speaking again.

"Ah, you didn't know me in college."

You didn't even nurse your drink. Logan's entranced as you bring it to those pink lips, draining the glass in one goddamn fell swoop. Your throat bobs as you swallow, and only once it's completely empty do you slam it back down on the table, a thumb coming up to dab the remnants off the corner of your mouth. It's a nice burn, a low buzz that makes your belly feel warm.

And fuck, it makes Logan feel warm all over, too.

You didn't even bat a goddamn eyelash. Your skin's reddening from the liquor, your lips are spread in that ever-present smirk, and you look like a goddamn angel sent from hell. His eyes don't leave your mouth, watching as that little tongue peaks out to lick at your lips.

Lord have Mercy.

Your lips are moving again, though, and he's broken from his trance.

"Friends drink together, yeah?"

The word makes bile threaten to rise in his throat. Friend, his ass. Friends don't look each other in the eye as they tongue fuck a glass of whiskey - which you'd thrown back like it was a glass of water. Logan's been with a lot of women, seen a lot of shit, yet nothing made his dick stand at attention quicker than watching you drink like a Sailor. You, petite and sweet you, so innocent and pretty and Christ, he wanted to defile. Tear it to shreds, give you something else to wrap those pretty lips around -

"Yeah... friends." He grumbles, bringing his own glass back to his lips.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

One drink turns to two, and two turns into four, and soon enough, the pair of you are six drinks in.

Between the two of you, you've probably drank enough to knock out a whole bar top full of grown men - yet there you sit, pretty as can be, holding the nearly empty bottle to your chest like it was nothing. Sure, your eyes are glossy, and your face is the color of a cherry, but you're holding up immaculately. Your speech isn't slurred, and you don't even look remotely close to hurling, like most in your position would be.

You take yet another sip, crossing one leg over the other - though, the way you're drinking is anything but ladylike.

"Do you even get drunk? I mean, I'd assume the whole regeneration shit would wipe it all right out of there."

Logan huffs softly, the closest thing to a laugh you'd ever get out of him.

"I heal. Ain't got shit to do with being drunk."

Another swig, though the drink is the furthest thing from his mind. How could it not be, he thinks, as his eyes rake across your crossed legs. Sitting so fuckin' pretty, like a living doll.

How can he focus on anything besides those creamy thighs, blemish free and just barely hidden beneath the silken fabric of those pajama shorts. He wants to touch, to grab, to *claim.* You're too good for him, he knows it. You don't deserve what he can provide - or the lack thereof. But he can't help it - sure, he doesn't need a human woman, but damn does he want this one.

And from the way you've been eyeing him like a piece of meat over the table, he's sure you want him too.

He doesn't notice that you're speaking again, nor does he notice that you've risen from your seat. Hell, he doesn't notice a damn thing besides the way that shirt clings to your perky little tits. Lord, are you not wearing a bra? He can see the shape of those pretty nipples just barely stretching the fabric. He'd have a mouth wrapped around one of those melons if you'd just -

Let him in.

He doesn't know where his self-control has gone. Out the window a long time ago, he reckons. Suddenly, a calloused hand is wrapped around your wrist. You're so close he can smell your shampoo, something flowery. He can smell everything. The scent of surprise as he grabs you up, and the scent of interest that follows right after.

He rises to his feet.

"We need ta' talk."

His voice is gruff, a mere rumble as he peers down at you. The contact has your cheeks reddening further, a spark shooting up your spine. He looks so domineering like this, staring down at you through half-lidded eyes, all long dark lashes and widened pupils. You've gone stiff. For a moment, you're floundering. Flustered, as your brain short circuits.

"I, uh..."

You sputter dumbly, wrist flexing weakly in his grip. Your eyes are everywhere but him. He wishes you would look at him - he needs you to look at him.

"I don't really want to talk."

The flush on those pretty cheeks makes his chest ache. He wants to bend you right over this fucking table, but he's just barely got some restraint left within him. He wants to allow his lips to meet that supple neck, to sink his teeth into that skin. To drag them down along your chest, to bury his dick so deep in your heat that -

He growls lowly, bowing his head to better meet your gaze.

"Tough."

He's drawing closer, pink lips just barely ghosting the shell of your ear.

"Don't avoid me, girl. I can smell your lies."

Your jaw goes lax in response, sending a sense of triumph spiking high in his chest. He's teasing you, and you know it. He can smell the excitement leaking into the air, and he loves playing with you like this. You're shuddering in his hands, breath catching in your throat, and he can't help but to swallow thickly. That look in your eyes, it's going straight to his cock.

"Oh, look at you."

And you fucking twitch. You're eating out of the palm of his hand, and it has something feral deep within him roaring with delight. The way your pupils are dilating, it's sending a fire across his skin, lighting his fucking soul ablaze. You look so needy, like he's hung the stars himself.

And then you whimper, and whatever restraint he previously retained snaps.

He groans, a gruff 'fuck' as his hands wrap around those dainty hips like you weigh nothing at all. He's lifting you upwards, setting you up on the counter, and he wastes no time slotting himself between those long legs. His hands are everywhere, one sliding up to cup a handful of those gorgeous tits, while the other moves up to grip your jaw. He's turning your head you meet his gaze, lips just a hairs-width away from your own.

"Say it. Tell me you want me, baby. Let me hear you."

The dominance dripping off his tone is enough to make you whine. His hands are massaging, squeezing, demanding your attention. It's hard to compile any coherent thoughts as those deft fingers close around a nipple, pinching just hard enough to make your back arch upwards against him.

You fucking love it. He can smell it on you as you bob your head dumbly.

"U-Uh-huh. Need you, Logan, I need you so bad."

Your fucking voice, so needy and desperate, it sends an inferno of heat crashing through his chest, and his lips meet yours passionately before you can even finish your sentence.

He's biting at your lip, searching for entrance. His hands are exploring, touching and squeezing and claiming whatever they can reach. They massage at your hips, before sliding downwards to cup your ass. Then he's yanking you forward, tucking his cock snugly within the cleft of your thigh. The feeling makes him shiver, and he has to reel himself in to keep from cumming in his pants like some virgin.

"You don't know what you fuckin' do to me. Been drivin' me crazy for fuckin' weeks, dreamin' about that slutty little mouth of yers'."

He's so hard against you that he's throbbing, and you're reacting like some post-orgasmic Madonna. Those pretty eyes are fluttering, fighting to stay open as you grip his shoulder blades like a lifeline. He's big, and for a moment, he wonders how its going to fit - then again, he really doesn't give a shit. He'll make it fit.

You're gasping into his mouth, licking and sucking and biting on whatever comes closest. Your lips are swollen, and there's drool running down your chin, but you clearly couldn't care less - not when you're sucking on his tongue so greedily it has him seeing stars, making his eyes go unfocused.

"Fuck me, baby, I can take it." You gasp, delicate fingers finding it's way to the hem of your shirt.

One hand snatches your own, pulling it away. He's growling, the sound reverberating his whole chest as he breaks the kiss. He's greedy as he moves to your neck, nosing gently at your pulse point.

You smell so goddamn good.

Then he's latching on, all teeth and tongue as his hands make quick work or your shirt, tearing the fabric like it's a piece of paper. It makes you squeal - he's sure you loved that shirt, but he doesn't give a damn. Not now.

"You're gonna take whatever I fuckin' give you, yeah?"

His head is hazy, and the way you're moaning like a wanton little bitch isn't helping him see any clearer. Your titties are bouncing, just barely held back by that flimsy bra, and his pants are so constricting that it hurts. He's got a vice grip on your thighs, fingers digging into the skin as he moves down your body, punctuation each movement with a kiss, or a nip. You whine the whole way down, making him grin into your skin.

From your chest, to your belly, to your waist line. Your hands have found purchase in his hair, knotting through the unkempt lock, and those nails are scratching at his scalp in just the right way that has him wanting to sing praises to the heavens. Those sharp teeth are catching in the waistline of your pants, and he's dragging them down with him.

You look divine like this, bare and trembling for him. His fucking mouth is watering, and you're getting off just on the way he's staring up at you from between your thighs. He looks predatory, eyes dark and narrowed as he licks a thin stripe at your inner thigh. Your hands are pushing down, so goddamn impatient. You're calling out for him like a mantra, and he hasn't even started yet.

If he was a lesser man, he would've fucked you there. But he didn't just want to fuck you, he wanted to worship you. Make you cum on his tongue and sing his name until it's the only word you remember.

He intends to do exactly that.

One hand is slipping beneath the wristbands of his sweats as he leans closer, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your pretty pussy. It makes you tense, and he chuckles softly as he uses his free hand to push your thighs further apart. Spread and bare, he feels like a parched man in the desert. Your pussy is so goddamn pretty, clit swollen and walls of velvet fluttering around fucking nothing. God, he could cum just from watching your squirm like this.

But this wasn't about him.

Without much more resistance, he's diving in. One slow stripe up your soaking slit has you keening, back arching as taut as a bow. He's sure you're squealing, but your thighs are squeezing his head so tightly that everything's muffled. He can't help but to groan at the heady taste of you, so fucking wet it's coating your thighs. He's like a man starved as he begins to worship your pussy like it's the only thing left on this fucking earth.

The fist around himself grips him tighter, and God, he feels like a fucking rock. He can't remember ever being this hard before. His balls are tight, and he's twitching angrily at each slick pass of his hand. The taste of you, mixed with the feeling of his calloused hand makes his eyes roll back.

You were so fucking sexy, the way you babbled as he tongue-fucked you like his life depended on it. In and out, your walls squeezing his tongue as if trying to beckon it deeper. He laughs at that, at your impatience, pulling back for a moment. You whine, clearly displeased by the lost of contact - until he spits on your your clit, thumb moving up to rub quick, tight circles on the bundle of nerves as he met your eyes once more.

"Talk to me, baby, tell me what you need."

It's pointless, really. You're gone, past the point of communication, but it's adorable the way that you try. You're babbling so sweetly, and the only words he can make out is 'please' and 'thank you.' His cock jumps at that, at his sweet girl begging so prettily.

His thumb is still doing figure-8s on your clit, tongue still lapping at your pussy like it was the only thing he knew how to do. He deserves a medal for multitasking, he thinks - not that it mattered. He could cum just like this, stroking his dick or not.

You're close, and he can tell. He didn't expect you to last long, not with how sensitive you were, but it was still a surprise to feel your walls start to constrict urgently around his tongue. He smirks, eyes darting up to watch your blushing face. You can't even meet his eyes anymore, too fucked out to do anything but sit there and take it.

So goddamn gorgeous.

It doesn't take long, not at all. He can sense it, in the way your muscles grow tense. You're getting wetter in his mouth, your hips canting upwards with purpose. Your grip in his hair is growing tighter, and your breathing is erratic. Only a little more, you told him. Then it became a mission.

Your words were true. All it took was him sucking your clit into his mouth, two fingers moving downwards to slip into you and curling upwards in a 'come here' motion, and then you were spasming like a woman possessed. He doesn't think he's ever heard you scream that loudly, and he doesn't think he's ever heard a sound so beautiful in his life. He isn't ashamed by the way he follows promptly after, either, spilling hot and fast into his pants with a breathy grunt.

The line wasn't blurred, not anymore.

[dehydrated-turtle]

Morning Wood

//warnings// nsfw, 16+, mdni

//contents// Dick Grayson x transmasc!reader, fluffy, smut

//synopsis// how does morning wood lead to pussy eating? i guess that's just what gets dick off - wc: 1.6k

//on ao3//

The morning is golden, shimmering and dancing between the leaves on the trees, spilling through the glass of your bedroom window. Light dancing around the room and over your face as you start to stir. The lush greenery glowing in through the window and the robins chirping away as spring blooms outside. Your whole body comes to realization and consciousness in a couple of minutes. You feel an arm around your waist that comes up to meet your hand, fingers intertwined. You can feel the warm breath of your boyfriend, Dick Grayson along your neck, his nose nuzzled into you. 

You start to feel Dick move and hear the duvet shuffle as well as a groan that comes from his mouth that sounds suspiciously like a moan. He presses his hips into your back lightly and you feel his hard on, throbbing against your ass. His hand tightens around yours as his hips start to move lazily. Soft little moans spill from his throat as he keeps rolling into your back, sound asleep. You don’t really want him to stop because it’s really cute but you can tell he needs more and you’re already awake so might as well help the poor guy. 

“Dick…” you whisper, shaking his shoulder lightly, trying to wake him. 

“Hm?” He groaned, opening his eyes slowly. 

“You need some help there, bud?” 

“What… oh um…” he starts to go red as his eyes struggle to open and he avoids eye contact which earns a smile from you. 

“It’s ok, honey. Let me help.” 

“Hm, you’re too good to me…” He whispers as he cups your cheek with his hand and takes your lips into a soft and sensuous kiss, breathing against your face. Your hand travels to his waist, luring him toward you. You pull him, lightly, on top of you as you slip your tongue past his lips. He grants it entry with a low moan and earns a rolling of his hips. He’s rutting into your thigh now, you can feel his cock throbbing against your skin. The PJ shorts you are wearing have been pushed all the way up to your hips. 

“I have a fantastic idea…” he whispered into the crook of your neck. 

“Hm, and what would that be?” 

“You’ll see.” 

He started to shimmy his way down, pulling the duvet over his head, disappearing into the sea of sheets. You could feel him pull down your shorts and slip them off, discarding them somewhere under the covers. The anticipation is bubbling because you can’t see what he’s about to do. Your cunt is clenching around nothing, just waiting to see what he’s going to do. Or rather not see. 

You jump slightly when you feel a soft kiss on your inner thigh, a line of them being created, coming closer to your heat. He nuzzles his nose into the crook of your thigh, taking a large inhale, taking in your smell before carefully placing a sweet kiss directly on your growth earning a light moan from you. 

“Please…” you whisper, unsure if he can even hear you. 

A hand presses against your thigh, pushing it open and massaging the flesh gently. You can feel his breath against your folds, laughing as he watches you clench around nothing before licking a long stripe right through the slick. You let out a loud moan and throw your head back as the unexpected sensation renders you speechless. He starts sucking on your growth which has gotten hard with all the anticipation, his head bobbing up and down ever so slightly which you can see through the settled blankets. 

A sudden lack of sensation has you worried and more so confused before Dick lifts the duvet over his head, revealing his dazed, still half asleep face, panting just a tad. 

“Phew, it was getting hot in there!” he remarked before diving right back in. 

Now being able to see his hair laying perfectly, just resting on your pelvic bone, has you moaning beyond belief. You reach your hand down and tangle your fingers into his hair, pushing him further down. He flattens his tongue, flush onto your clit, looking up at you with a smile and satisfaction. You whine at the sight, god, if only he knew what he did to you. You moan, gutturally, throwing your head back as he starts sucking again. 

With your head back you couldn’t see his hand move towards your hole and slip a digit in, curling it up. Your thighs close around his head briefly in response to the unexpected panging in your lower abdomen. He pumps in and out a couple of times before sliding his ring finger in, leaving them inside and curling them up repeatedly. The recurring sensation hitting your g-spot makes the heat boil over. 

“Fuck… Dick, I-I’m cumming…” you whisper, unable to speak any louder, panting from the stimulation. 

All he does is hum against your clit, sending vibrations through your entire body. That finally pushes you over the edge, squeezing around his fingers and thighs shaking around his head, keeping him in place. He continues to lick and lap at your drenched cunt through and after your high, becoming overstimulated. But oh, does it feel good. The moaning mess you’ve become, almost screaming and trying to bite down on your lip before Dick finally lets go. 

“You’re such a good boy for me, hm?” He says cockily, planting kisses on your thighs. All you can manage is small whimpers of his name and heavy pants, legs relaxed now but still shaking and being massaged by Dick. 

His hands start to wander under the hoodie you’ve been wearing, just to your waist, massaging the flesh. He comes back up to your face, placing a kiss onto your lips, letting his tongue slip into your mouth. You can taste the cum on his tongue which makes you moan ever so slightly. He moans back when you grab the flesh on his ass and start to kneed it, pushing his hips into yours. You can feel his cock throbbing through the fabric of his boxers and onto your growth. God, it's intoxicating. 

“I need you inside me… please.” 

“I love it when you tell me exactly what you want, my prince because it’s my job to make it happen. What was it you wanted again?” oh he’s teasing. 

“Inside… Dick please”  

“As you wish.” (please get my princess bride reference it's one of my favourite movies) He slides his boxers off in one go, dick springing free. His cock is so pretty, glistening from all the precum in his soaked underwear. It jerked in anticipation before lightly drawing a line up your folds, spreading your slick over his tip. He places a hand on your hip before pushing in, so, so slowly, making sure you’re comfortable. You moan generously as his tip meets your cervix, sending a vigorous twang throughout your entire body. He starts to move inside you, dick throbbing at the silky warmth. A ring of white starts to form at the base of his cock as he slides mercilessly in and out of your hole. 

“That feel good, honey, hm? Me pounding into you like this? My handsome boy… you feel so good, so tight for me.” He mumbles into your ear, a warm breath on your neck sending shivers down your spine. All you can muster out is a whimper, clawing at the skin on his back. “I love the sounds you make for me, honey. Fuck-” 

The thrusts of his hips start to become uneven and erratic. He’s close. His tip hitting your cervix with each movement, you start to feel a familiar heat boil in your abdomen. His persistent thrusts and mewling whines in your ear push you over the edge, cumming and clenching onto his cock. He keeps fucking into you through your high, thighs shaking against his skin. Your legs tied around his waist, pulling him in closer as he comes to his own high. The white rivers flowing into you, spilling into your canal. He whimpers into the fabric of your hoodie on your shoulder, jerking his hips every few seconds out of sensitivity. Your legs still around his torso you rub his back gently as he starts to recover. He places kisses on your neck while slowly pulling out, making sure you’re comfortable before collapsing on top of you like a weighted blanket and nuzzling into your chest. 

“Hm, you smell nice…” he whispers against the fabric of your sweater, hugging you tightly. 

“You’re such a flirt.” You say with a chuckle and run your fingers through his hair planting a kiss on the top of his head. 

“I just want to stay in your arms forever, my pretty boy. But alas, I must help you clean up, no?” He heaves himself off of you and hops off the bed, walking toward the bathroom, softening dick bouncing between his legs. 

He walks back out with a damp hand towel and a vigorous smile. Oh how he loves to clean you up. He climbs back onto the bed and spreads your legs. 

“Look at this beautiful mess, honey. You’re so heavenly.” he remarks making you blush. He dips his head down to kiss your inner thigh after wiping it with the cloth. He wipes up your core and all around until it’s free of any mess. He places another kiss on your pelvic bone. 

“Perfect…” Who knows if he means he’s finished or you’re perfect. Let’s go with the latter. 

He discards the small towel onto the floor before climbing up to where he was before, on top of you, laying into you and relaxing against your body, heaving a large sigh before promptly falling asleep again. It’s the weekend, let him sleep.

[dabisbratz]

fiendin’ for that sweet spot — choso x male reader

w.c: 3.2k

WARNING: dirty talk, bondage/restraints, edging, slight feminization, creampie, panty-stuffing, d/s undertones, bottom!male reader, amab aligned, praise, degradation, mocking, established relationship, short aftercare, cmnm (clothed male, naked male), use of the word ‘pussy’

a/n: why did this render me speechless… once again waiting on tumblr to fix the read more command ):

There’s a lot of things preventing you from focusing. For one, the quirk of Choso’s pink lips makes your thoughts linger to his soft kisses and gentle embrace. His lips are always so warm and comforting against your skin, he’s always so tender and gentle when it comes to you. But it’s not just his lips that leave a dizzy daze in your head, that clouds your vision from the walking dream in front of you. There’s his hair, that you love to tug on and braid, rubbing miscellaneous shapes and patterns into his scalp. There’s his eyes, deep and dark, but kind and beautiful. His eye contact lights you on fire, burns you from the inside out.

Then… There’s his hands. Large and well taken care of, fingers wrapped around a silver spoon as he digs into an appetizingly saturated tiramisu. His clipped nails shine in the dimly lit restaurant, leading up to his knuckles that look much better when they’re not swollen and blood soaked, but rather kissed or buried inside you. The tendons in his hand flex and flutter when he twirls the spoon, dipping it into the white, creamy topping that sticks to his lips.

He’s too perfect. Everything you weren’t, with a blood mark decorating his cheeks and a smile brighter than the moonlight outlining the city buildings. If you saw muted hues of gray and blue, he’d make up the specks of magenta in between. You saw the love in his eyes, extraordinarily bright and homely, unconditional and unrelenting. You return it and so, so much more.

You sigh, dreamy and enamored with your boyfriend as you push your cheek into your palm. Choso catches the sound almost immediately, straightening up and nearly smacking his back against the polished wooden booth. His lips curl into a frown, pulling at his decorated cheeks until you’re snapping back to reality.

“What’s wrong?” His eyebrows twitch, but he doesn’t look angry. It’s not like him to remain very expressive facially anyway, but you find a smile threatening to spread across your face. As if he’s discovered the answer himself, he scoops up a generous bite of the sweet and pushes the spoon into your face.

“What? No, it’s nothing, I just— thank you — I’m just thinking,” The dopey smile on your face is telling, even as your eyes focus on the spoon in front of you. It’s way too big a bite for you to chew, and you’re not even interested in the sweet, but the gesture is kind and thoughtful. One hand hovers below the spoon, careful to catch any fallen cream. You almost feel bad for stiffening up at the view of his hands in your face. “There’s something else I’m hungry for.”

Oh. There it is again, that breathy tilt to your voice that you’ve been pulling all night, paired with the lingering touches to his body or the brushing of knees under the table. Your boyfriend clears his throat, letting his hand drop to the table with a fairly loud thud. It’s hard for Choso to remain stoic under your gaze, under your warm hands that rub his skin juuust right, under you as you bounce on his cock like your life depends on it.

“Choso.” Your voice sounds whiny now, as if you’ve given up trying to keep your composure.

He imagines the sound of his name on your tongue. Light and heavy, sweet and savory. He imagines you moaning his name right against the table, his warm hands cupping your cheek as he pushes it into the wood. He imagines spoiling you. Right here, right now.

You’ve always been spoiled. You’re his spoiled boy, constantly showered with gifts and doted on. When he’s not chasing the high of vengeful fights or treating contusions, he’s by your side. Tonight is a great example of that, a lavish dinner at a lavish restaurant where only the most lavish of people attend.

Be patient.” Can’t have everyone in this restaurant knowing you cry like a whore the second you see cock, can we? Electricity shoots through his pants as you whine again, squirming in your leather seat until your shoe is pressing against his crotch and your arms are straight in front of your own, almost as if you’re rutting against them in your chair.

At least the bill had already been left.

You were quite a simple riddle. You’ve always had a few twists and turns, but once Choso’s lips were on yours you were so easy to figure out; so welcoming as if you wanted to be figured out. Choso had you mapped out the best, with every nook and cranny and divot of your body. With every spot that made your eyes roll so prettily into your head, with every spot that made you jolt forward and needy.

You might as well tackle him onto the bed, watching him bounce on the springy mattress with wide eyes. You’re stripping before he can process, pulling your tie over your head and hastily undoing his own, unbuttoning your dress-shirt until it’s discarded somewhere on the floor, and unzipping your increasingly tightening slacks. Choso watches you, his hands now resting on your hips so he can lift you up when it’s time to shimmy out them.

His eyes catch lavender under your fly, then speckles of your warm skin, like it’s not completely covered. He holds you by the back of your thighs once they’re under your buldge, but he can’t help but flip you down into the bed when he realizes what he’s looking at. The air is punched out of your lungs the moment you hit the mattress, arms splayed out angelically while Choso tugs down your pants, and leaves one sleeve stuck at your ankle out of impatience. It makes you feel like a slut. Like you’re easy.

“Holy shit,” He marvels, thumbs tracing the lavender lace pattern that covers your cock and makes you look even prettier. He thought that was impossible. There’s a wet patch that darkens the rest of the underwear, a deeper purple that makes him lick his his lips. And finally, there’s a matching, twinkling plug nestled deep inside you, with a pretty heart-shaped handle that’s perfect for pulling on. His sweet, perfect boy had gone out and got himself panties, decorated his pretty body and even prettier cock, just for him. Plugged himself up, just for him. Because he loves cock— his cock —that much. He wants to fuck you in these. He wants to digest you. “Holy shit.”

“Do you—”

“Yeah,” Is all he says, but you can see his ponytails vigorously bounce as he massages the head of your cock through the underwear. Before your legs can close around his hand, he places the other on your thigh, holds you down into the soft mattress so you can’t escape. Your body feels warm already, igniting under his touch as the excruciatingly soft lace dips into your slit and strokes your cock. You can’t help but start to spread your legs wider, a slutty reaction to a slutty sight, and you feel your face heat up when Choso smiles up at you. “I love them. I love you.”

Maybe you’re in way over your head. Maybe you should’ve never got the damned things, they feel way better on your dick than you’d anticipated, clings too tight, folds just right, rubs against it like heaven. With every squirm the plug shifts inside you, your insides twitch and clench around it but there’s nowhere for it to go, just stuck inside your warm, used hole. You won’t be able to survive the next ten minutes at this rate.

“I love— fuuuck, Iloveyoutoo.” Your eyes flutter closed, just to open back up when Choso’s thick fingers toy with the plug, pushing it deeper inside you through the panties. Your moans are slutty and satisfied, like you’ve been waiting for this all day.

It occurs to him that you’ve been fucking yourself in front of him the whole night, playing with the pretty hole that belongs to him. You’d probably fingered yourself before leaving, got your fingers nice and wet to cum until you get that stupid, fucked-out face you always get after cumming, by yourself. You played with what was his to touch, his to fuck, his to use and leave puffy and sticky and stretched out and swollen. Choso growls.

“My pretty puppy’s been keeping secrets?” He can’t help but feel overprotective and jealous. Jealous of your fingers, which were deep inside you not too long ago. But never as deep as he can get, never as good as his. You just can’t reach the same spots Choso can, you can’t milk the cum out of your cock like he can. You need him to cum just how you like, hard and mind blowing until you can’t form coherent sentences. Overprotective for that very reason, what if you’d gone and hurt yourself trying to make yourself cum like he can? The plug gives you away, twitching violently along with your hole. He frowns, small and tiny as he pulls his hand away from your cock, instead resting it on your corresponding thigh.

“Answer me, sweetheart.” There’s an increasingly rapid shake to your head, though you both know that’s a lie. You want to whine, it’s a gift for our anniversary, you want to grab his hair and bury his face between your cheeks so he can focus on something other than your flustered face. “C’mon, you can do it. Don’t go dumb on me now.”

Your whole body shutters, your hand reaching down to squeeze at your balls to satisfy the ache, but Choso’s swatting your hand away, shaking his head disapprovingly. You almost wilt under his gaze, but the aching is just too much, so you try again. Before you know it he’s tying your hands above your head with— when did he take that off? — his tie and your own to hold together both your wrists and the area where your legs bend.

You’re exposed on your back. legs spread and high against your shoulders. The stretch is delicious, if you weren’t wearing those damned panties you’d be completely exposed, your hole stretched out and plugged, your cock peeking out from the band if the lace. You moan in protest, but it comes out more wonton and slutty as he starts to pump your cock.

“Just couldn’t wait, always so needy. So slutty, so impatient,” He’s focused now, pumping you with the lace separating your skin. The material stretches with every stroke, a wet sound bouncing off the walls as your thighs tremble and your body writhes against the restraints. “A brat, too.”

His disregard for your response makes your cock jump, his grip tightening as the panties shift with the tightening of your balls. You’re close. He watches your face, watches your eyebrows knit together until you’re looking at him like a puppy, whining high and loud in your throat until you’re trembling, a thin layer of sweat making your skin— and especially your nipples— glow. He groans, watching precum pool on the panties until your moans suddenly stop, a silent scream about to leave your mouth as he strokes you closer, and closer, and closer—

Nothing. The pleasure leaves just as fast as it arrives, your hips bucking uncomfortably under your boyfriend's weight. Tears prickle your eyes, and you find yourself shaking your head in protest before he can even speak, “I know, baby, I know. It hurts, you just wanna cum so bad.”

His mocking could make you cum alone, but the feeling of his lower half pressing the plug into your prostate is driving you crazy, rubbing that bundle of nerves and over and over, your eyes roll back and you drool as you pant.

“Nuh-uh, no, honey,” His grip around the base of your cock is impossibly tight, basically strangling it, as he watches your balls contract in an attempt to cum. You’re such a slut, it doesn’t take much to get you to cum. A few nice words here, a few tugs and licks there, and you’re crying for more. “Take what I give you, be my good boy. I know you can, know you will.”

You’re a good boy. A very good one at that, and you find yourself echoing his words with less coherency than most, nodding with a gasp as he takes your cock in hand again and presses the plug further into you. But it’s too good, Choso knows what he’s doing, he always does. He knows all your buttons, how to play with you just right. It’s excruciating, trying to hold onto your orgasm just for him. His fingertips tap the heart shaped handle when you moan particularly pornographic, like he’s coaxing a load out of you.

“Look how ready you are for me. Patience is a virtue, you know.”

Evil bastard.

So you suck it up, squealing when he shoves the panties to the side and tucks it underneath your cock, prods at the plug with his tongue and buries his face between your thighs until his only truly distinct feature is his blood mark. It’s a true, honest shame you can’t grab his hair now, but you don’t think you would’ve been able to hold on even without the restraints. Your begging is jumbled, more breathy ‘mhmmm’s than pleas, but it’s good enough for you.

“Choso— Choso, fuck, fuck me, please. Mhmmm, wan’ you inside. G’v’it t’me, fuck your cum ‘nto me!” Tears stream down your pretty face when he touches your sensitive dick without the confines of the lace, precum now pooling on your lower abdomen and squelching with each speedy stroke. Your toes curl, thighs trashing against the fabric until you’re cumming, clenching around Choso’s tongue and the pretty plug keeping you full. You can’t stop spurting, not when he starts alternating between the plug and his tongue, both setting punishing pressure against your prostate.

“Pretty baby,” The plug is out, and your hole looks lonely. It’s puffy and swollen, shining with spit and lube as it clenches around nothing. Stretched out like it’s been used, it takes fingers like it’s natural, sucks in Choso’s digits and flutters around them in thanks. Despite preaching patience and the joy of delayed gratification, he’s not sure he can wait anymore. So inviting, so needy. For his cock and his cock only, who is he to deny that? “Gonna let me breed you? Gotta watch this pussy cum on my cock while I fill you up, let me have it, honey. Please?”

“Uh-huh, mhm,” You don’t hesitate, not once, tilting your hips up as he slaps his cock against your rim a few times. You’re not sure when he took the time to free himself from his slacks, but you don’t care. A string of his precum keeps you together, falling onto your hole as he sighs in content. You can barely contain a long whine as he pushes inside, inch by inch disappearing inside you and pressing straight into your prostate as the curve of his cock punches air out your lungs. Your hands fight against his tie, curling up the fabric as you ball them into fists and moan when he bottoms out, his balls slapping against you. “Please?”

He fucks you like he’s desperate, large hands digging into hit thighs as he ruts his hips with a rushed, sloppy pace. There’s still so much lube nestled inside your warm walls, pulling him in as he slides in and out, loud and sticky as he pounds himself into you. He chases the warmth, the feeling of your gummy hole struggling to keep him where he belongs— deep inside you. You can feel his cock twitch inside you, hard and throbbing and leaking, getting you ready for the loads he plans to fuck into you. Choso’s handsome face is all the more expressive, his lips parted as he pants and groans with each thrust, hurriedly untying your hands and setting you free to lace his fingers with your own.

His eyes close briefly, as if he’s trying to focus on not cumming, trying not to think of what it’d look like to see his cream oozing out your insides.

But it’s hard not to, especially when his pretty thing is crying on his cock, punching out loud but tiny ‘uh-huh!’s with each thrust as drool slides down his chin, bouncing happily without a single thought in his head. When his pretty boy clenches around his cock, pretty decorated thighs open like a whore and stained in his own cum. He feels himself getting closer, roughening up his pace until you can’t breathe, squeezing his hand impossibly tight while he fucks you like his life depends on it.

“Oh, fuck, Jesus Christ. There you go, baby. Ask me for it, ask me to cum in this pretty boy pussy,” His deep voice makes you soar, jumbled moans and sentences leaving your lips as Choso frees his hand for only a moment, to rip away the lacey panties that somewhat obstruct his vision from your used hole. Your gasp is soft, but powerful enough to egg him on. “S’hole’s so needy, all mine. My job to take care of, t’fuck, t’finger and— oh, God, use like a toy.”

“Don’t— I don’t, Choso, don’t think I—” Can hold on much longer, you want to say, but warmth blooming in your stomach renders you speechless, the now ruined panties sliding under your ass and bunching up beneath your backside.

“I know, baby. You don’t think,” He groans, cock aching as he delivers a few more hard and deep strokes, eyes clenching closed at the sound of your hole sucking him back in with vigor. He can’t help himself, pumping your cock to match his thrusts until he’s shouting inside you, warm and sticky and thick. You can’t handle the sight of him crumbling inside you, hips rocking desperately as he fucks the cum deeper. “Don’t need to. Not with a hole like this.”

That’s it for you, the final blow, game over. You’re cumming before you can correct him, spraying hard onto your stomach and making your hole achy. Choso helps you ride the wave, pumping your sensitive cock until you weakly push his hands away, rocking back against his dick until you feel it soften inside you. “Good boy, my good boy. Need one more thing from you.”

His smile is small and genuine, and despite the sleepiness washing over you from such an intense orgasm, you lull your head to the side, watching him pull the lavender lingerie (more like a piece of fabric, now) out from under you. He glances at your face, gauging a reaction from you as he slowly stuffs your hole with it, watching it convulse with sensitivity. He hushes your whines with a kiss, melting against you.

He holds you for a minute, gives your cheek a soft kiss, and wipes away the cum on your tummy with your discarded shirt before it can cool and harden uncomfortably on your skin.

[theladybarnes]

CRIMSON AND CLOVER: CHAPTER SIX

"Got me stressed out. It's not even my girlfriend.”

▸ summary: it’s a mental game to get out of woods, and you need help bringing yourself back to earth. ▸ characters: steve harrington, eddie munson,dustin henderson, ft. robin buckley & max mayfield ▸ word count: 12.6k ▸ warnings: angst, semi-fluff, SMUT (MINORS DNI +18), mentions of death ▸ series masterlist

“Flay this, you ugly piece of shit!”

 Your surroundings blurred as you stumbled against the railing in front of you. The air was thick with bitter smoke, and the distant cracking of fireworks reverberated through the air.  You’ve been here before. This was Starcourt Mall. 

 The night you all faced the Mind Flayer.

 In disbelief, you watched as your friends frantically threw fireworks at the colossal creature on the ground floor. Their faces etched with determination and words filled with anger. The Mind Flayer writhed and snarled from below. Whipping its gaze at all the directions the attacks were coming from.

 A surge of confusion swept over you. How the hell were you back here? Was this a dream? It had to be. The mall, the flayer– it all felt too surreal to be real. Yet, the vividness of the moment, the heat of the fireworks, and the urgency in your friends' voices made it impossible to dismiss as just imagination.

 There was a lull in the attack that you were able to hear your name being called out.

 The voice was unmistakable. Billy. 

 His desperate cries echoed through the chaos, adding to the overwhelming sense of dread. Slowly, you approached the edge of the railing to peer down below. 

 "Help me! Babydoll, please!” His desperate pleas cut through the chaos. “Don't let it get me!" 

 Your gaze locked onto the unfolding horror below as one of the Mind Flayer's tendril arms snaked around Billy, pulling him helplessly toward its gaping mouth. Billy's terrified screams resonated through the air, pleading for salvation. Your heart pounded in your chest, urging you to move quickly. But an invisible force seemed to paralyze you, rendering you powerless to intervene.

 As the monstrous entity snarled at Billy, the scene descended into a nightmarish mess. Walls turning dark red with the light slowly fading to the center of the room. Unable to witness his gruesome fate again, you fell backward in fear, the world around spiraling into darkness.

 However, the horror didn't end there. 

 Your friends, done with their attack to the flayer, all slowly crowded towards you. Surrounding you in a circle of their judgmental gazes before they pointed down to you. Shouting out their accusing cries. "WHY WON’T YOU SAVE HIM?" they demanded in a chorus of eerie, distorted voices. The weight of their accusations pressed upon you, suffocating you with guilt and terror that kept you on the floor. It gave them a better chance to close in on you as they shouted out more claims.

 “HE LOVED YOU!”

 “HE WANTED YOU!” 

 HE DIED BECAUSE OF YOU!”

 Your jaw slacked at their words. Confusion in the mix of your fear as you tried to reach out to them. Hands shaking as you pleaded for them to realize the truth. “I didn’t want him to die! I don’t want anyone to die!” 

 Surely your friends would never think that about you. They had to know!

 Amidst the continuing cries, was one familiar voice shouting at you. Steve, who was silent until now, emerged from the nightmarish crowd, his face contorted with anguish as he kneeled down beside you. 

 "Why won't you save us?" He asked desperately, hands cupping around your shoulders. “You’re leaving us to die!” 

 When you didn’t say anything back he began to glare at you, words coming out in a spit as he gripped hard against you. “WHY WON’T YOU SAVE US?” His final yell echoed across the whole mall and in a final surge of terror, the world around you collapsed. 

 You jolted awake, gasping for breath as you forward. The world around me blurred as you slapped down against the dashboard. It took you a second to realize that you weren’t just sitting on the mall floor but in a moving car. 

 “Thank God!” 

 Eddie, who looked as sick as you felt, was behind the wheel, driving erratically as if the police were hot on your heels. Chrissy's contorted body flashed in your thoughts, reminding you of the horror you had just witnessed in the trailer.

 "Jesus Christ, slow down, Eddie!" you croaked out, voice tinged with a mix of fear and anger. "What the hell happened? Where are we?"

 Eddie's eyes darted toward you for a moment, his hands white as he held on the steering wheel tightly. "We didn’t have a choice, okay? We needed to get out of there before whatever killed Chrissy came for us too!”

 “B-but she’s back there!” you cried out, heart torn between the urgency of escape and the idea of abandoning Chrissy alone. “We can't just leave her there alone like that!"

 "We can't get caught up in this," Eddie insisted, frustration etched across his face. "You think anyone will believe I didn't have anything to do with it? Freak of the town, ring a bell?!"

 The reality of the situation hit you like a punch to the gut. But that was slowly pushed back when you realize just how far out of the main part of town you guys are at. You reached out to Eddie’s arm, tugging at it quickly. 

 “Eddie, tell me you’re not leaving town.”

 “All right, I’m not leaving town.” he said sarcastically, pressing down harder onto the pedal. The road began to blur and you could feel the anxiety grow in the pit of your stomach. 

 “We cannot leave town, Eddie! Turn back!” you urged. 

 His gaze shifted away, guilt and fear written all over his face. "Look, I know it’s bad. But I–we can’t risk it. Not when we don’t even know what the hell happened!”

 “It doesn’t matter! Turn back now!” The two of you are so busy glaring at each other that you both failed to notice the van veering off the road. "Shit, watch out!" you shouted as you finally registered what was about to happen.

 Eddie tried his best to press down on the brake and slow down the speed of the van, but to your horror, it only skidded over the long grass of Hawkin’s massive forest. Panic surged through you as the van rushed towards a tree, and you braced for impact.

 The world blurred as the van crashed through the underbrush, the sound of crunching metal and snapping branches deafening. In the midst of the chaos, you clung to your seat, desperate for it to stop. It wasn’t until one final forward thrust that the van finally stopped. Leaving you gasping for air again.

 The scene felt oddly familiar to your own car accident years ago. But there’s no flashing lights, and your father wasn’t on his way to help you. The only thing waiting for you was the looming dark forest that swallowed up the lights from the headlights. 

 "Shit," Eddie's voice trembled with fear as he finally released his tight grip from the wheel. "Someone’s gonna see this. Come on, we can't stay here."

 He threw open the door, while you stumbled out. The world spun wildly and it took you a minute to control the overstimulating thoughts and memories flooding your brain to register that Eddie was in front of you now. “I-I can’t..” you whimpered, hands reaching out to him. 

 You closed your eyes, feeling his hands cup around the sides of your face as he waited for you to calm down. It was only a second later that you opened them again to see the look of concern on his face. “I’m sorry,” he breathed, shaking his head. “We still have to go.”

 Reaching down for your hands, he made sure to lace them together before he led the two of you away from the van towards the trees. “Wait, shouldn’t we go back on the road?” you asked, trying to keep up with his pace. The uneven forest floor beneath your feet felt foreign and slippery. Making it hard to try and keep up with your friend who had now moved on to mumbling to himself.

 "Eddie, slow down! I don't know these woods!" you cried out, breath catching in your throat.

 He didn't hear you, or maybe he didn't care. Eddie was on a mission, leading the two of you deeper into the wilderness. "I know a safe place, just keep up!"

 But the dense foliage and the unfamiliar terrain took on your already unsteady balance. You stumbled over a protruding root, hands reaching out to break the fall. The grass was moist beneath your fingers and you took a second to close your eyes to stop the world from spinning again. Eddie continued on without noticing, his footsteps fading in the distance while you struggled to regain footing.

 "Eddie! Wait!" you called out. The only response was the eerie silence of the woods. Taking a few long strides in, you called out for your friend again, hoping your voice was loud enough to break through the trees. 

 “EDDIE!”

 It’s only a matter of seconds before you’re lost, alone, and terrified. Still, you picked yourself up, desperately searching through the thicket for any sign of your friend. The trees loomed like shadows, and panic clung to you like a suffocating shroud. He couldn’t have just left you behind right? But the more you walked, the louder you called out, the more you were hit with the realization.

 You were stranded in a place you didn’t know, alone without your friend, and cold from the night sky. But the worst part of all, was the light echoes of a ticking clock in the distance.

 Exhausted and disoriented, you stumbled into the main street of town as the evening sun began to break through the trees. Your clothes were damp, feet sore from your terrible choice in shoes, and body shivering from the cold night in the woods. 

 It’s not like you had any choice. With the road being too dangerous at that time of night to hitchhike, your only other safe solution was to tough the walk through the woods and hope you’d find the outskirts of town soon enough. 

 You’re embarrassed to say that despite your usual sense of direction, you managed to circle around the woods a few times. Making your arrival into town at a much later time than you’d have preferred. But at least you were back. Better than another night trying to ignore the various noises and whispers the woods had to offer to you.

 It wasn’t like you had any help at all considering that at no point in the night did Eddie try and find you. 

 Still, you pulled through and despite the sleepiness, the hunger, and the aches, you were determined to get yourself home. But that plan seemed to come with a few complications.

 With every store you passed, every street corner, the townspeople of Hawkins seemed to be highly aware of how out of place you looked right now. One glance at the hardware store window and you were shocked to find just how disheveled and weary you looked, confirming your guesses to their curious gazes.

 You had to get home. You needed to get Dustin and figure out what to do about this mess.

 So without wasting time, you made your way towards the bus stop that stopped nearest to your house. But just as you were about to ask around for some possible bus fare, there was a loud honk that caught your attention.

 “Honey!?”

 You turned on your heel, scanning through the small group of passengers to try to find the familiar voice calling out to you. Around the corner of the block stood Steve. Your eyes met and you could see that along with the worrisome look on his face was a bit of shock. Possibly from your appearance. 

 The two of you don’t waste a second to make your way to each other. Steve even went as far to run over to you before he stood before you.

 "What the hell happened to you? Dustin told me he hasn’t seen you since yesterday. Are you okay?" His eyes scanned over your figure, possibly trying to find an injury that matched with your current state of appearance. Without waiting for an answer, he pulled you into his arms, letting his hand cradle the back of your head as he pressed your face into his chest.

 You couldn’t help it as you allowed yourself to hug him back. Seeking comfort in his arms after the night you had. The scent of his cologne and heat from his chest felt amazing against your cold skin and it wasn't until he pulled back that you realized you were shaking from the weather. 

 He quickly shed off his jacket and draped it over your shoulders, providing a better warmth over your shivering arms. He was still waiting for you to answer, only raising a brow to you as he cupped the side of your cheek gently. 

 There’s a weak attempt at trying to smile. To let him know that you were okay. But you weren’t. At least mentally you weren’t. Not when you couldn’t stop replaying the events that happened just last night. It only felt even more overwhelming now that you had Steve of all people worried over you again.  “I’m sorry.” you croaked, unable to stop the guilt from coming through. “We got in an accident and then we–I got lost in the woods."

 Steve's eyes widened in disbelief. "Accident? Lost in the woods? What were you doing out there? Are you hurt?" He glanced around, noticing that there were a few people eavesdropping into the conversation. He carefully pulled you away from the bus stop towards the other direction. “Did he do this? Did Eddie do this?”

 "No,” you answered right away, not needing for that vine to tangle up in this mess. “I can't explain everything right now. It's complicated," you replied, voice shaky from exhaustion. "Please..I just need to get home.."

 For a moment he looked even more worried if possible, but instead of pressing on, he merely rubbed his thumb against the apple of your cheek before nodding his head.

 "Alright, Honey.” Steve said more softly now, gesturing towards his car. “Let’s get you home." His concern was genuine, and despite the awkwardness that should be between the two of you, the only thing you could feel from Steve now was comfort.

 And that was all you’d focus on right now.

 It didn’t take long for Steve to get you home. In fact, you’re pretty sure he broke the speed limit a couple of times on the road. Not that you’d press him about it right now. All you wanted was to get inside your house. Where you could hopefully recollect yourself into a person again.

 Despite being in the comforts of being around Steve, you were still finding it hard to come back down from the overwhelming anxiety that still ached inside of you. It was almost like you were stuck on autopilot as you exited the car.

 Steve was quick to return to your side. Gentle like before as he wrapped an arm to lead you towards the front door. A glance up and you can see him sporting his frustrated frown despite the kind voice he used with you.  

 A step to the front door and you could hear the phone ringing inside, blaring loudly into the empty home “My key.” you whispered softly to yourself, trying to check over the pockets of your dirty dress. But all your things were gone. You’re not even sure when or where you’ve managed to lose everything. 

 “It’s okay.” Steve reassured you, carefully letting go to walk over to the potted plants your Aunt had placed this past summer. “The spare’s right here.” 

 You watched quietly as Steve moved over a ceramic frog to reveal the hidden key. It was just a couple of months ago, before the end of Summer, that you had revealed its secret spot to him. Telling him he was more than welcomed to use it any time he needed to.

 He had joked that you might get tired of his surprise visits if he had a way in every time. You happily told him that it’d be impossible, but if he really wanted to surprise you, there was always your bedroom window.

 “Come on,” he said, pulling you out of the memory. “Let’s get you warmed up.” 

 As the two of you entered the home, you glanced around with uncertainty. Unsure of where you should even start on your previous night considering the heavy load it came with. But before either of you could even touch on the subject, the shrill ring of the phone interrupted the silence again.

 Steve held a hand up, quietly offering to take the call as he picked up the phone from the small table.

 He muttered out a half greeting before sighing deeply. “Yeah, she’s here.” he said calmly to the receiver. "Yeah, I found her near Main… No, she's not hurt, I think, just shaken up… I don't know what happened, man. She hasn’t had a second to really explain..”

 You could hear the muffled voice of Dustin on the other end, bombarding Steve with questions you’re sure he doesn't have many answers to. Steve glanced over his shoulder, noting you quietly observing him before he motioned for you to go clean up. “Go ahead, I’ll be here when you get out.” he whispered.

 With that reassurance, you gave him a quick nod, grateful for his patience, and headed towards the bathroom. Once you closed the door and undressed yourself, you finally got the chance to really check over your appearance. The mirror reflected a face unfamiliar to you. One that wasn’t its usual confident self, but of someone who was scared.

 You didn’t like looking at that face. 

 Shielding your gaze away from the mirror, you quickly stepped in started up the shower.

 The hot water felt good as it cascaded over you. Washing away any dirt and grime that clung to your skin from the long night in the woods. That and the loofah you were scrubbing hard against your skin. Every swipe of sudsy soap would reveal a red burning skin that let you know it was fresh and clean.

 “Chrissy! Wake up! CHRISSY!”

 You nearly dropped the bottle of body wash from your hands as your mind flashed over the haunting images from before. The harsh, supernatural force that took Chrissy’s body so effortlessly as she hung in the air like a puppet. The sounds of her bones breaking echoed above the noisy shower. 

 Eddie’s screams came into your mind, almost like speakers pressed against your ears and you dropped everything to cover them up. Muttering for them to just go away. But it won’t stop. Every attempt to focus was met with the flashbacks that persisted. Each replay was more vivid than the last. The flash image of Chrissy's contorted body, the way her eyes sunk into her head, it all made you feel trapped in a nightmare from which there was no escaping. 

 You gotta get out. 

 You have to leave.

 You need to RUN.

 “Honey?”

 The clear sound of Steve’s voice brought everything to halt. Your eyes snapped open to watch as a hand reached past the shower curtain to turn off the water, cutting off the remaining sound in the room. Hesitantly you pulled back the plastic curtain a bit to peek out. 

 Steve was standing there, concern etched on his face again, but this time with his eyes cast down to avoid your naked form while he held up a towel.

 "Are you okay?" he asked softly. There’s a vulnerability in his voice that was unexpected, and you nodded as you reached out for the towel to wrap around yourself. 

 Finally he glanced back at you, giving you a once over as his hand extended out for you while carefully helping you exit the shower. With a small gesture towards the door, he helped usher you over to your bedroom. 

 The amount of patience and kindness that Steve was giving you today had your emotions turning erratic again. The mixture of your previous fear along with the current gratitude and embarrassment that came from having him see you like this.

 Once in the room, he let go of you, almost turning to leave before he sighed and returned back before you. Having had enough of the uneasy silence. 

 "I need to know what’s going on, Trouble. I know you were there in the trailer. What happened?”

 His eyes searched at yours for answers. But you found yourself hesitating, unsure of how to put it into words. Despite Steve being completely aware of things such as the upside down, hell, even your past, this was the one time it felt..unreal.

 "I don’t know if you’ll believe me, Steve. It’s..unlike anything we’ve seen.” you stammered, voice barely above a whisper. His concern deepened, and he urged you to continue with a light nod.

 "Chrissy... she..." You struggled to find the right words, your mind still clouded with only flashes of what you had witnessed. "She was taken by this force, this... I don't even know how to describe it. It just pulled her in the air..it twisted her, Steve. It was so fast..in mere seconds she was gone and crumpled to the ground. I've never been so terrified in my life."

 You didn’t even realize you were crying until Steve had stepped over to wipe at your cheeks. His face was even more grave than before as he looked down at you. He took a deep breath, his eyes never leaving yours, and said, "You’re safe now. You’re not there anymore.”

 “But safe from what, Steve? We don’t even know how or why it happened!” you whispered, feeling your throat choke up as the emotions you had been holding finally poured out. “One minute she’s just there inside with Eddie, and the next I hear screaming and she’s not talking! She was here but gone at the same time.” 

 Steve moved to wrap his arms around you, pulling you back into his chest to stop from shaking. “Did he say anything?..Do you know if he?..”

 “No, Eddie didn’t do this, Steve!” you pulled back from the hug to look up. “He was just as terrified as I was..it wasn’t him. I-I swear!”

 “I believe you, it’s okay.” he said quickly, noticing your sudden panic. But it's too late and you’re feeling the air around you turn thick, unable to get it in your lungs.

 “I can’t breathe, Steve!” You gasped, moving your hands to grip tightly at his arms. His presence alone was keeping you grounded before, but everything seemed to be crashing down at this moment. Your attempts to breathe mixing with crying only made things worse.

 “Breathe with me.” He shushed, pushing his forehead to press against yours. The palms of his warm hands wrapped around your shoulders and he tugged you closer to keep you from getting any colder. 

 But the fear persisted, and your sobs grew louder. It was then that Steve cupped at your face and planted a soft but deep kiss to your lips. Catching you off guard enough that your mind frazzled into focusing only on the touch of his skin to yours before he pulled back.

 "Why did you..." you began to ask, voice trailing off.

 "I just needed to help bring you back down to me," Steve whispered, his eyes searching yours. Almost as if he were afraid he had crossed a line. The two of you silently shared a moment of silence before you gave a quick nod.

 "Right," you managed to say, still grateful despite the unconventional method. 

 Steve remained close to you. "Are you?" he asked calmly.

 “Am I what?”

 “Here with me?”

 When you don’t answer, he sighed softly, enveloping you in his arms. The natural heat of his body called out to you and you reached out to hold onto him desperately. Seeking all the familiar comforts that came with Steve. The scent of his cologne, the warmth of his skin, the cotton of his shirt. It was impossible for you not to inhale all of it.

 He rested his chin against the side of your head, holding you tightly as his arms traced soothing patterns across the bare skin that peeked on the top of the towel. Something inside you is sparked and any sane conscious thought is out the window.

 You don’t want to feel this fear anymore. You just want to feel like yourself again. 

 Even if just for a moment. 

 Pulling away, you reached up, brought his face close and kissed him. 

 It was nothing like the shared kiss you had moments before. It was intense. Needy. All the emotions that the two of you seemed to share as you both clung onto one another. 

 His hands trailed down from your back to rest at your hips. The tip of his fingers dug lightly as he attempted to control whatever urge he had. Your own hands had the same problem as they crawled up to tangle in the ends of his soft hair. Tugging hard enough that caused him to groan against your lips. He broke the kiss apart to pull back. 

 “We’re being stupid right now, aren’t we?” he asked, hot breath fanning over you.

 “Yeah,” you breathed, eyes flicking down to his pink lips. “Incredibly stupid.”

 Reaching down between your bodies, you pulled the towel off from your skin, giving him a full view of yourself.

 He sucked in a sharp breath at the sight, eyes scanning down your body that had you flushed. Nodding his head to himself, he reached and grabbed your face with both hands and kissed you again. 

 Frantically, his own desperation kicked in and he doesn’t even give himself a second to properly shed off his own clothing. Making you have to be the one to pull back and help strip him down. Once he was down to nothing, he resumed pressing his lips against yours. Using one of his hands to cradle the back of your head and the other to press your body against his.

 The contrast of your cold body to his hot one had you both shivering as you stumbled backwards towards the bed. It wasn’t until the back of your legs hit the edge of the bed that he carefully pushed you to lay down. 

 Your back met with the comforter of your bed quickly and you gazed up to watch as Steve slowly came onto the bed, kneeling just before your legs. Though you’re both naked and practically panting with want, there’s a small flicker of concern on his face again.

 “Say it,” he begged, voice slightly cracked from being out of breath and from the hurt that lingered in his tone. “Say that you want this too.”

 “I want this.” you nodded, spreading your legs open for him. His eyes widened at the sight of you. His hand instantly reached out to rub down the expanse of your bare thigh. Your heart began to beat rapidly at the dark desire that flickered in his gaze. “I want you, Steve.”

 He groaned at that, leaning down so that he could lay on top of you. His lips were back onto yours once again, tracing his tongue at your lips until you parted yours and allowed him the chance to swirl it against yours. The sensation had you feeling lightheaded. Your hands wrapped around his shoulders, fingers digging lightly into his bare skin. 

 The light graze of his hardened cock brushing lightly against your inner thigh had you jumping back in surprise. Pulling back from his kiss, you looked down between the two of you, reaching down and taking hold of his member in your hands. 

 “Fuck, honey.” Steve whimpered, “It’s been so long.”

 The tip of his cock was already red, aching to be touched and dripping with excitement. The pad of your thumb swirled over the glaze of precum. You used its slickness to help glide your hand over the base of his member. Jerking it up and down lightly while you watched Steve’s face for his reaction.

 He emitted a sweet moan that had you biting down on your lip to keep from joining him. His hips jerked with every tug you gave and you knew it wouldn’t be long for him to take control again. So you enjoyed your time, leaning down his neck to kiss at his hot skin while you worked him to a full erection. 

 “I’ve missed this.” you muttered softly, kissing up the line of freckles and moles that adorned his neck. 

 “Me too.” he gritted, hands now gripped at your hips to control himself from thrusting into your fingers. “But I’ve missed something else even more.”

 One of his hands pulled away from your side so that he could release himself from your hold and slide down until they reached your aching core. The slick glaze of your arousal spread quickly over his fingers, giving him the chance to swirl around your folds.

 “Steve,” you whimpered, feeling already so sensitive and desperate for release. Any more of the simple touches and you were embarrassed to say you’d come undone easily. “I need you.” 

 “You have me.” he promised, as. he brought the tips of his fingers up to his mouth, sucking any bit of you that was left on them. “All of me.”

 With that he reached between you and easily guided his aching erection to glide against your slick folds. Teasing not only himself but you in the process as he worked you two up. You leaned up on your elbow to pull him down again, pressing your lips together as your hips instinctively thrust upward to him.

 He didn’t break the kiss, but he did stop his hips in time to finally press the tip of his cock at your entrance and slowly thrust in. The walls of your pussy reacted instantly to his member again. Tightening around his long thick size until he was fully sheathed inside of you. 

 Shocked, you gasped and looked up at him, eyes clouded with a familiar desire. It had been quite some time since you’ve felt this full and with every small nudge, Steve managed to bottom his way in. “God, you’re so tight,” he shuddered, bucking his hips for a moment before he wrapped an arm around the side of your waist. “So hot and tight for me.”

 “Steve,” you whimpered, hips rolling on their own accord before you forced your body to relax. “I need, fuck, I need–” you begged, practically desperate for him to make any movement now. 

 “Need what, honey?” he said, moving his hands to place down at your hips, a small thrust to get you moving a little. “Whatever you want, it’s yours.”

 “Move.” you said finally, nails digging into his shoulders now. 

 That was all he needed to hear before he began to move again. He slid out- and back in, with more force this time, causing you to shudder beneath him. The pleasure was strong this time, possibly with how desperate you’ve become since entering the room. You leaned up, clinging around his arms to hold him close. 

 Every part of his warm body felt like a cover from the world. A cover from the dread that wanted to eat at you that only he seemed to be able to pull you out of. It was all you wanted to focus on, all you could focus on. 

 Steve dropped his face into your neck, murmuring something against your skin before he kissed at the flesh gently. “Yours.” he said eventually, another thrust back. He picked his head back up to look down at you. One arm had you pressed close to his body, making you feel every part of him while the other leaned on his elbow to give him a chance to look down at you. “I’m yours.”

 You gazed up into his eyes, one hand letting go of his shoulders to cup at his cheek. “Mine.” you agreed, pressing your lips to his. 

 His pace quickened up at that, goading him into another set of emotions. 

 You wrapped legs around his waist. Keeping yourself from moving away from him as his quick thrusts that pushed you higher up in the bed. His name fell past your lips in a long moan, unable to think of any other words. It was like all you could do was think and speak his name. 

 Whether it be from your shifting feelings, or the fact that Steve was going at such a fast pace, the two of you seemed to be closer to your release than expected. He dropped his head down, pressing a few loving kisses to the apex of your breasts. He groaned your name against the pebble of your breast, nipping at the sensitive bud before he returned back to your face. Kissing your lips and cheeks over and over until he had to pull back to breathe again.

 “I can’t hold on much longer, baby.” you warned, leaning up to press a kiss to his shoulder.

 “Me either.” he nodded, taking a quick pause to look down at you. He looked as if he wanted to say something, but settled with dropping down to meld your lips once again. One of his hands let go of your waist to slip between the two of you, and you soon felt the familiar pad of Steve’s thumb press against your clit. 

 Without a wasted second, he began to roll the sensitive bud in a circular motion while thrusting into you at a more brutal pace. 

 The whole world is gone and all you could feel now was the intense orgasm as it washed over your body. Back arching up to him as you cried out in ecstasy against his lips. Your palms clasped his back, pressing yourself even more if possible to meet up with his final thrusts.

 He whimpered into your lips, pulling back to allow his face to fall against your neck and catch his breath while he shot his cum into your core. The thrusts slowed down and soon enough you only rolled your hips lightly against him to ride out the rest of the euphoria with him. 

 It was only a second that the two of you said nothing. Both of you seemingly unsure how to process the intensity that the sex brought. 

 His head lifted back up, looking down at you intently before gently pulling himself out of you. The sudden pressure change had you let out a small whimper and Steve returned to leaning back on his knees. His gaze was locked over your figure and you couldn’t help but feel embarrassed to look so wrecked. 

 But Steve doesn’t seem to think the same thing as he gently reached down, caressing the skin of your thighs. “You’re beautiful.” he said aloud, “So damn beautiful.” 

 Something sparked inside of you. Maybe the sincerity of his words, or the selfish need to be taken out of that deep sinking feeling that had its grip on you lately. Or maybe it was just because you wanted Steve and to ignore the reality that was outside the doors. 

 “Steve?” you asked softly, leaning up on your elbows.

 “Yeah?” he whispered back, looking at you with a small bit of concern again.

 “I’m still not here..”

 A small smile tugged at his lips before he nodded his head at you, crawling back up to climb over your body again. One of his hands crawled up this time to cup around your breast, kneading the muscle gently. 

 “Okay, honey. Let me try again.”

 It’s embarrassing to say you two go for it another two times before you’re both satisfied. The sun was set even more into the evening and you glanced at the clock in time to see you’ve been here for over an hour.

 You collapsed forward, sagging into his arms. Your chest nearly heaving as you struggled to catch your breath after all the vigorous movements you two just did. He pressed his lips to your cheek, and it burned. Like a reminder of his presence there being nothing but a burning comfort to you. 

 Holding your heavy breath, you stopped moving around. Allowing his arms to wrap around your body and give you the chance to savor the moment for your memory. To use it when you needed a reminder of a time you felt this content. 

 Eventually he helped lift your tired body up enough that he was able to pull himself out of you, hissing a bit at the cold air before he laid you to return to resting on top of him. Grabbing your bare leg, he draped over his hips and kept you close to his side so that he could use your warm skin as a cover. You gently placed your head against his chest, hand up so that you could gently run your fingers through the curls that covered his pecs. The sound of his heart beat, your favorite sound, thumped lightly in your ears.

 “Talk to me.” he said before he kissed the smooth skin between your brows. 

 You lifted your head up to watch him. Not answering right away to gauge his reaction. He’s pretty calm considering what you two were just finished doing. Not hurt like you almost expected for him to be after having just used him. In fact, he was just looking down at you patiently, bringing a hand up to caress the side of your face while he waited. 

  Resting your chin on his chest, you sighed softly, not sure what to say next. 

 “I’m sorry.” you said hesitantly. “I know you were trying to calm me down. But I didn’t mean to just use you to make myself feel better. It was shitty of–”

 “I wanted it.” he interrupted you, a firmness in his voice. You glanced back to his gaze, noting the calm was replaced with a serious look. As if he were about to lose it if you went further on with your sentence.  “I needed it, actually.”

 This was all so overwhelming.

 The very idea that after pushing Steve away, practically forcing him and yourself to move on with others, the two of you still relied on each other to feel good in the end. You’ve never had this feeling with anyone before. It was scary. It was too real. 

 You opened your mouth, ready to set him up with another disappointing apology when he sprung forward to kiss you. Ceasing any words from making it past your lips as he captured the moment. Again you don’t fight against it. At this point you don’t think you can.

 Down the hall, the phone sprung to life again, pulling you both back to reality. The kiss had you breathless, staring up at Steve with wide eyes because he was doing it again. He was making you question every choice you’ve ever made.

 “It doesn’t have to mean anything. This whole thing could be nothing..” he said, looking at you with such fondness. “It’s just us helping each other. That’s it.”

 “But it isn’t nothing.” you whispered back, unable to hide the truth. “It never is with us.”

 He doesn’t say anything. Only taking a glance down the hall at the phone that’s still ringing. Reaching up, you cupped at the side of his face and made him look back at you, but all that does is create a pained look on his face. Like he was torn about something.

 “It’s probably Dustin.” he said eventually, reaching up to pull your hand away. “We’ve been here longer than expected. They’re probably waiting for us.”

 “They?” you asked, releasing him fully from his hold so that he could climb out of the bed to gather up his scattered clothes from the floor.

 “Robin, Max, and Dustin were trying to figure out where Eddie could be hiding before I left.” he said, watching you while he dressed himself. “Max saw Eddie running to his van last night in a panic. We’re gonna try and figure this out. Get his side of the story.”

 The mention of Eddie brought a sad dip to your stomach. It’s been hours since the two of you had lost each other and you weren’t sure if he was okay or not. Not to mention it had been hours and he didn’t exactly seek out to find you either..

 A glance up and you watched as Steve quickly fixed himself enough to look presentable. This time the guilt rolled in when you thought of the idea of Steve wasting precious time he could have been using to help with Eddie just to go out and try and find you. 

 “Right,” you nodded, climbing out of the bed. “We should probably go.”

 He didn’t say anything at first as you began to dress yourself, pulling on underwear and a bra. But it isn’t until you’re about to reach for a shirt that he stepped over and reached out to gently grab your hand. 

 “No one would be upset if you wanted to sit this one out, Trouble.” he said softly, turning you to face him again. “After everything you saw and been through..we can figure something out by ourselves”

 “Are you trying to say you don’t want my help?” you ask a little guarded. In all this time you two had been dealing with the kids and the upside down, Steve has never once been the one to push you out of things. Even last summer with the Russian’s invasion, he was insisting on you joining. What was different now?

 “I always want you and your help.” he said as matter of fact. “But I’m not gonna be selfish and force you to come out and join us when I know there’s something going on with you.”

 Just like the night before, Steve’s intuitive mind was working double time on you. But there isn’t much time left in the day to dive into that discussion and you’re worried about wasting more time by having Steve stand around and be concerned about you.

 “I wanna come.” you explained calmly, trying to sound more confident than you felt. “I need to help figure this out too.”

 Steve’s eyes watched you carefully, almost like he was waiting for you to crack. But when you continued to hold your gaze, he must have sensed you wouldn’t be cracking down any time. “I’ll wait in the car.” he said eventually, leaning forward to press a kiss to your cheek.

 After that, he left you to finish getting dressed and also give you a moment to collect yourself in preparation for facing the others. 

 If Steve was worried enough to venture out for you, and Dustin enough to be calling the house this much, then surely the others would be just the same. And while a part of you wanted to allow them in, even just a little, there were other important things now. 

 Like finding where Eddie was, and figuring out just what killed Chrissy.

 So with that determination, you quickly finished dressing and locked up the house on your way out. The air was chilly again and you shivered a bit as you made your way over to Steve’s car. He was adjusting the radio when you entered inside. Fiddling out with the knobs for a station that he liked.

 Thankfully the heater was already on. Helping thaw out your cold bones as you buckled in. Right away your eyes caught sight of something you didn’t seem to notice before in your dazed out mind. 

 Wrapped around the left side of the driver’s visor, was the gold necklace. The ‘S’ dangled just enough to shine in the bit of light that was left outside. You couldn’t help but watch it quietly, not sure what to think about him still having it. Steve didn’t seem to notice where your attention was as he turned to face you.

 “Ready to go?” he asked, settling on a soft rock station. You nodded your head slowly, forcing your eyes to look out towards the window.

 “As I’ll ever be.”

 There is no real reunion when you finally get to picking up the others. Mostly, it was Robin taking control of the line of questioning. Which you were a little bit troubled with answering right away. Mostly because you needed to hear Eddie’s half to put all the pieces together.

 The rest of the car ride was spent being spooked by the empty lot that led over to Rick Lipton’s house. You recognized some of the area from the road. Recalling coming to part of town the past summer with Steve so he could show you lover’s lake.

 It was bizarre to think you were supposedly near this house just last night and wound up walking all the way back into town. It added to the bitter feeling inside of you when you remembered the events again. 

 But there were questions that needed answers and pouting about being left behind would have to be done later. 

 The car was parked in the dark driveway of the Lipton house and flashlights were slowly passed around before you all made an exit of the car. Steve was quick to make his way to your door, opening it up for you and extending a hand out to help pull you out.

 The moment is sweet and you squeeze his hand lightly in a silent thank you. Over his shoulder, you spot a gawking Robin who didn’t even bother to conceal the small shock on her face.

 Nodding for Steve to go ahead, you hang back a moment to let Robin make her way over to you.

 “So,” she chirped, “that was a pretty nice moment I saw there.”

 “Yes,” you agreed, looking at her from the side of your eyes. “Steve’s been really nice to me since he found me.”

 She hummed playfully, giving you a small wink. “I see. And I’m guessing he was really nice to you when you guys were at your house for over an hour.”

 You hoped that your poker face didn’t crack over Robin’s comment. On top of everything going on, you didn’t need to have her teasing either one of you for what may have happened in your house. Even if she was on the right track.

 “I think it was mostly me needing a minute to process everything.” you said slowly, thankful that you were able to be truthful. “Steve’s just kind enough not to rush.”

 Her eyes glanced over the guy, watching as he held the flash light over towards the side of the house, inspecting the area before he sensed the pair of eyes watching his back. Turning, he glanced between the two of you. Eyes shifting worriedly before he settled with putting an awkwardly forced smile on his face.

 “Dingus is something else, that’s for sure.” Robin muttered with a head shake. “Sorry if I’m pushy. Just looked like something might be sparking between you guys again.”

 Guilt spread over yourself at the idea of giving another person in your life false hope over something you weren’t sure of yet. Especially Robin, who most likely just wanted her close friends to get back together again. 

 “We’re always gonna be close.” you tried, hoping not to sound like your feelings were swinging in any kind of way. “I’m thankful that he’s always willing to help me, even when I don’t think he should.”

 “He cares about you.” She said calmly, like a reminder. 

 Your lips pursed and you dropped your gaze to the flashlight in your hands. “He cares about all of us, Robs.”

 “Yeah, but we know it’s different with you.” she shrugged, “Enough so that he’s willing to just drop everything he's doing to leave work and find you.”

 Dustin called out to the two of you to hurry up, leaving you without a chance to give out a proper response. Quickly, you both followed up behind the others to the door. All holding up a flashlight to brighten up the area.

 The first ring of the doorbell was met with an awkward silence. Then the second, then the third, then fourth, and finally fifth.

 You couldn't help but think that neither Rick nor Eddie would be the type of person who would happily open the door that was being rung this late at night. But, you figured vocalizing that might not help with Dustin’s current frustrations. Steve on the other hand..

 “Okay. Well, that’s settled. I guess he’s not here.”

 Like you expected, Steve’s skepticism only frustrated your cousin further. Causing him to change the ringing into banging. Yelling out for Eddie in hopes that his friend would come out to a friendlier voice.  

 “Look, we just wanna talk, okay? No cops, I swear! We just wanna help!”

 To your left, you watched as Max and Robin began to scale the side of the house. Trying their best to peer into the windows of the closed off home. 

 “EDDIE!” Dustin continued to yell, mixing his knocking with ringing again. “RICK!...REEFER RICK!”

 “Don’t scream that!” Steve chided, making you slightly amused before you moved closer to try and look through the window. The house from what you could see looked completely abandoned. Eddie considered this place to be a shelter from all the mess that had happened. So why did it seem like the place had been abandoned for a while now? 

 “Hey guys?” Max called out, bringing the group to leave the house and follow to where she stood. 

 Down her line of vision was a boat house. Eerily the only thing in the area other than the street lights to have a light on. Something in the back of your mind warned you about its creepy appearance, but considering that everything lately was getting to you, it’d be something you’d have to ignore.

 So down the hill the rest of you went. Lights flashing at the dingy building as you all approached its doors slowly. 

 Robin took the lead this time, pushing at the door slowly as she peeked her head in. “Hello?” she called out, not fully yet stepping in. “Is anyone home?”

 One by one the rest of you filed in after her. Lights aiming in different directions to showcase the inside of the place. It smelled like rusted metal, wet wood, and something else you couldn’t decipher. Forcing you to tuck your nose into the collar of your jacket to breathe in your perfume.

 “What a dump.” Steve called out, a light disdain in his tone. 

 “Did you really expect pristine conditions from a guy called Reefer Rick?” you asked, giving him a small look. He huffed amusedly before turning around to reach over for an ore on the wall. You’re about to ask what he was planning on doing with that when he suddenly began to stab the ore into the tarp covered boat. Making you and Dustin jump a bit from the rapid movement. 

 “What are you doing?” Dustin gaped.

 “He might be in here.” Steve answered simply, continuing with his jabbing.

 “And you plan on turning him into a skewer?” you frowned, taking a step back to observe from a safe distance. 

 Dustin shook his head, pointing over to the boat with his hand. “Take the tarp off!”

 “If you’re so brave, you take the tarp off.” Steve countered, still poking around the edges. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at their cowardice. 

 “Don’t you think he’d have popped out by now if he was hiding in there? You’ve practically poked a hole in the tarp.” you said, crossing your arms. 

 “Hey, look over here.” you heard Max call out. From the other side you watched Robin and her approach a table. Fiddling with some that had been thrown on top. “Someone was here.” she continued. 

 “Maybe he heard us. Got spooked and ran.” Robin suggested.

 “Don’t worry,” Dustin cut in. “Steve will get him with his oar.” 

 You chuckled at that, finding the whole thing ridiculous while Steve went on with his work. 

 “I know you think you’re being funny, Henderson, but considering the fact that everyone in this room has nearly died about a hundred times, personally, I don’t find it funny in the slight–”

 As if he were waiting for the right moment, Eddie suddenly popped out from beneath the tarp, causing everyone in the group to jump back in fear. He shot himself forward and grabbed onto a shocked Steve and pushed them backwards until the two of them were pressed against the wall. 

 All of you are too shocked to react right away. It wasn’t until Dustin was pleading out to Eddie to stop that you noticed he was holding up a broken glass bottle to Steve’s neck. A flashback of Steve’s bloodied face after dealing with the Russian’s came into your mind and you found yourself panicking over his safety. 

 Without even a second thought you picked up one of the other oars and gripped on it tightly, sizing up behind an unknowing Eddie. Dustin called out to you next, holding a hand up as he tried to take control of the situation.

 “Eddie! Eddie! It’s me! It’s Dustin!” he called out, gaining the attention of the boy. “This is Steve. He’s not gonna hurt you, right, Steve?”

 You glanced over Eddie’s shoulder to watch as Steve nervously tried to respond. “Right, yeah.” he whispered, almost afraid to speak up. 

 “Steve, why don't you drop the oar?”

 Right away he let go of the wooden piece, causing a small clanging noise to fill up the tense room. Eddie is slightly triggered by that, pinching the glass a little more against Steve’s neck and causing him to groan out. You glared at the back of Eddie’s head, ready to swing against your own friend when Dustin held a hand out to you again.

 “He’s cool! He’s cool!”

 “I’m cool, man. I’m cool.” he agreed in a whisper to Eddie. His eyes flickered behind the guy towards you, widening as he barely realized your attacking stance.

 “What are you doing here?” Eddie grunted, never looking away from Steve.

 “We’re looking for you.” Dustin answered, trying again to gain his friend’s attention. 

 “We’re here to help.” Robin joined in, trying to calm the tension that had risen. Eddie glanced back, probably just realizing the two girls behind Dustin now. 

 “Eddie, these are my friends.” he pleaded, “You know Robin, from band.” he said, gesturing to the girl behind him. Robin, while awkward, imitated the sound of her trumpet playfully. He turned to his other side and pointed over to Max. “This is my friend Max. The one who never wants to play D&D.” Max offered up her best wave, despite the nervousness that appeared on her face. 

 Dustin nodded over towards your direction, gulping a bit when he noticed you still were ready for the attack. “And you already know my lovely cousin,” he said, clearing his throat. 

 Eddie barely now registered your presence, glancing over his shoulder finally to meet your eyes. He’s shocked at your position, but still unwilling to let go of Steve right away. You made it a point to take a step closer, glaring at him as you finally spoke up. “Hiya, Ed. Remember me?”

 “Eddie,” Dustin cut in, trying to bring the calmness back. “We’re on your side.” There was a flicker of hesitation on his face, making you and Dustin turn slightly more desperate the longer he held onto Steve. 

 “I swear on my Mother! Right guys?”

 The other three shootout similar answers while you remained silent. Ready for anything.

 A long heartbeat passed before he pushed away from Steve, letting him fall back against the wall with a small grunt. You tossed aside the oar and made your way to check on him when Eddie gripped at your hand.

 The two of you hold eye contact and you’re unsure how to react to him calmly.

 His eyes alone showed there was a lingering fear. Hell, you just saw the same eyes in your own mirror hours ago. But the mixed emotions that were going through when it came to Eddie, made it a little hard to figure out how you wanted to react.

 “You’re.. okay.” he whispered, almost like he was afraid to speak aloud. 

 “Yeah, I’m okay.” you nodded, a frown still hard on your face. “No thanks to you.” 

 Tugging your hand out from his grip, you finally stepped away, ignoring the hurt look on his face as you joined Steve at his side. He was hunched over, hand rubbing lightly at his neck. You leaned down, getting close enough to inspect his neck yourself. The skin was red with a slight little nip against the spot under his jawline.

 Steve smiled slightly, reaching out to place his hand on top of yours. “I’m okay.” he reassured. 

 “Eddie..” you heard Dustin behind you. “We just want to talk.” The two of you turned your heads to watch as Dustin lowered down to squat before Eddie. He was closing himself off to the rest of you, hand still clutching onto the bottle as he kept his gaze away. 

 You couldn’t help but feel guilty knowing that Eddie was probably beyond freaked out about all this. There was still such anger and hurt flowing through you. But deep down you knew you felt for Eddie too. He was still the guy who had been your friend this whole time. 

 Dustin tried to reach out for Eddie’s hand to take the bottle, causing him to flinch and grip onto it tighter. Robin slowly approached next, trying Dustin’s docile method as she lowered down to his eye level.

 “We want to know what happened.” she said calmly. “To the both of you.”

 Max glanced over at you, worry still flickered over her pale face before she glanced back to Eddie with the same expression. Steve reached out to place a hand on your back, soothingly as he nodded at you to go forward. “Tell ‘em.” he said softly to you. 

 Eddie sniffled a bit. “You won’t believe me.” he said, voice cracking a bit. His gaze turned to look up now and you let out a shudder at the sight of his teary eyes. 

 Max stood closer, giving him a light shrug as she calmly said a simple “Try us.”

  Eddie was the first one to go up and recall the events of the night before. The pain, evident in his voice as he tried to describe everything in detail. Immediately your mind is plagued with the images you had seen with your own eyes. Following each part of the story that Eddie cleared out. 

 “..Things only got worse when I looked over to see Henderson passed out on the ground.” he said, pulling you out of your thoughts. “I..I didn’t know what to do, so I grabbed her and just..ran. I ran away. We left her– I left her there.”

 Your face contorted at the painful reminder. The memory of leaving her behind still brought a heavy guilt on you that ached in your chest. Tears pinched in your eyes and you turned away from everyone to control yourself.

 “But what happened to you?” Max asked when she noticed your sudden change. “How did you get separated? Steve said he found you in town by yourself.”

 “I was lost all night.” you clarified, wiping the tears out from your eyes to face them. “I came to in the van when we were nearly out of town.”  Eddie looked down in his hands ashamed, not meeting your gaze. “I had begged Eddie to turn back. To go someplace where we could call for help. I tried to remind him how things would be worse if he made a break for out of the state.. But that’s when we crashed.”

 “Crashed?” Dustin interjected, his eyes were wide as he looked over your appearance for any scars he must have missed out on before. Steve shifted slightly beside you, eyes turning dark as he took in the new information.

 “We made a break for the clearing,” you went on, anger still focused on Eddie. “I could barely grasp what had just happened, let alone follow Eddie, so it didn’t take long for me to lose him in the trees.”

 “I’m sorry,” he started, hands clasped together as he shook his head. “I thought you were behind me the whole time–”

 “You weren’t thinking about anything but getting yourself to safety.” you accused him, pointing a finger in his direction as you stepped forward. “I told you I didn’t know those woods at all and you just kept going!”

 Eddie lifted his head up to meet your fiery gaze. “I-I didn’t mean to..I was just–”

 “You were afraid?” you asked curtly, “Well so was I! I don’t have any idea what the hell killed Chrissy and the next thing I know is my friend just ditched me without even looking back!” You shook your head, feeling tears gradually make their return. “Did you even look for me?”

 The room was filled with a painful silence and you had to turn your face away from Eddie before you took out more anger on him. You nearly left the room entirely, needing to get some fresh air, when you felt a hand slip into yours, stopping yourself from leaving. 

 “Don’t go.” Steve said gently to you. “Just take a breath.”

 It felt easier said than done. But all Steve did was give you a knowing look and you settled with leaning against his side. Eyes cast down to the ground while you sucked in a sharp breath. His presence was a little calming, but you were still struggling internally. 

 During that bit, you could hear Eddie scoff in frustration. “Look, I can’t explain everything that I did, okay? All I can say is what I saw..it was something freaky, man.” There’s a beat of silence that had Eddie recoiling away from the group again. “You all think I’m crazy, right?”

 “No. We don’t think you’re crazy at all.” Dustin reassured gently. 

 “Don’t bullshit me, man! I know how this sounds.” Eddie cried out, voice cracking in frustration.

 Max leaned forward, keeping her voice calm and steady. “We’re not bullshitting you.”

 “We believe you just like how we believe her.” Robin added, pointing a finger over at you. But it does little to relieve Eddie’s shaken state. Finally, Dustin took the lead on explaining everything.

 “Look, what I’m about to tell you might be a little..difficult to take.” he started. 

 “..okay.” 

 “You know how people say Hawkins is..cursed? They’re not way off. There’s another world. A world hidden beneath Hawkins. Sometimes it bleeds into ours.” 

 “Like ghosts and shit?” Eddie asked.

 “There are some things worse than ghosts.” Max followed, trying to help pin it together for him.

 “These monsters from his other world, we thought they were gone. But they’ve come back before and that’s why we needed to find you.”

 Max nodded her head, glancing back at you briefly before she looked back at Eddie. “If they’re back again, we need to know.” 

 Dustin’s words brought a painful reminder of all the times the group has faced different monsters these past few years. From the Byers’ demogorgon, Dart and his pack of demodogs, and recently the Mind Flayer. All things that came when all of you were finally trying to get life back to normal. It wasn’t fair. 

 “That night, did you guys see anything?” Robin asked.

 “Dark particles, maybe?” 

 You tried to think back, recalling the only odd rememberable thing to be the flickering lights. But just like that night, you never saw the familiar monster that broke through walls, or the growling noise of the creatures that surrounded the house, or even the thuds of a monster in the distance. It was like nothing was there and yet it killed Chrissy. 

 “It would almost look like dust, swirling dust.” said Dustin to Eddie, hopeful for his memory to be better than yours. But all his friend did was shake his head. 

 “No, man, there was nothing you could see or, uh, or touch.” he explained, looking up at you. “It was just us in there.”

 You sighed frustratedly, finally giving Eddie a sparing glance. “He’s right..aside from the lights flickering it was like..she was pulled up in the air like a puppet. As if by magic.”

 “We tried to wake her, man. She couldn’t move.” he added after you. “It was like she..she was in a trance or something.”

 “Or under a spell.” Dustin countered. 

 Some sort of realization flickered over Eddie’s face. “A curse.” he said next.

 “Vecna’s curse.”

 Beside you, you could see Steve’s head tilted at the name. “Who’s Vecna?” he asked Dustin. Your cousin doesn’t look back to you guys, but from your spot you could see the sudden shift in his demeanor. 

 “An undead creature of great power.”

 “A spell caster.” Eddie added, voice soft in disbelief.

 “..a dark wizard.” Dustin finished off. 

 Suddenly, the room began to feel smaller, and the weight of this new threat pressed down on everyone. You couldn't shake the feeling that this time, it was different – that Hawkins was about to face a threat unlike anything you’ve encountered before.

  The mood between everyone didn’t get much better after you and Eddie finished retelling everything. 

 The others took their turn in recapping all the news coverage they had been hearing throughout the day. While it was safe to say you were clear as a suspect, it didn’t mean you were out of the woods just yet. Most likely, those closest to Eddie would be next on the public’s radar. Which seemed like the easier thing to worry about considering there was this ominous Vecna to focus on.

 But since things were clear for now, the rest of the group urged Eddie to continue hiding in the boat house. Promising to return the following day. It wouldn’t be safe to move him around just yet. An unfortunate circumstance that he’d have to understand for now. The only time you saw him look a little more comfortable with the idea was when Dustin promised to provide him with food the following day. 

 Soon after you were all back in the comforts of Steve’s car.

 The two of you back in the front seat while the three in the back talked about what could be going on and where they can start tomorrow. You’d answer one of their questions now and then, but weren’t able to fully bring yourself in just yet. Considering no one wanted to be in your line of anger like in the boat house, they were very minimal in what questions they’d call out to you.

 Steve, on the other hand, was silent. Still visibly stressed from the boathouse conversations. In fact, you were pretty sure he was upset with the way his jaw would clench now and then. Ever since the mini spat with Eddie, plus the reveal of what happened, he hasn’t been the same. But even then, he set aside his emotions to still offer up a ride to the others. Making sure everyone got home safely.

 You watched him carefully, wondering what was going through his mind. 

 Today was..definitely not what he probably had planned. Especially after everything that was said the night before, then in your bedroom, and then the boat house. It wouldn’t be surprising if he didn’t crack under the pressure he seemed to be under. You wished you could help alleviate this new worry, but all you’ve done lately is add to it. 

 The only solid concentration he seemed to have at the moment though was driving and keeping hold of your hand.

 “Okay, Steve. We’ll meet up early tomorrow. I think Eddie’s gonna need a lot of food if he’s gonna hide this out. We’ll have to go to the market before we pick up everyone.” Dustin said from the back with a yawn. 

 The others were already dropped off. Mumbling out tired goodnights before Steve had finally made the return back to your driveway. The engine was off and the three of you had been quiet until Dustin broke the silence.

 “Sounds good, man.” he confirmed, speaking up for the first time in an hour. 

 With a clap to Steve’s shoulder, Dustin quickly made his leave for the car. Calling out for you to hurry up before he used his key to enter the house. Neither of you made any motion to follow through on Dustin’s warning. Only watching in silence as he entered the home. 

 It wasn’t until he saw the switch of the living room light on that Steve finally turned to look at you. His eyes scanned over the features of your face before he leaned in to push a hair away from your face. “You doing okay?” he asked softly.

 You’re almost taken back by his quick concern. How despite all that’s happened and been said, his first question is to ask about your well being. 

 “I’m here.” Was the best answer you could think of at the moment. You were still pretty upset about earlier. Especially the fact that you allowed yourself to get so angry at Eddie who was clearly unfamiliar with this type of horror. But it was hard to control anything going on with you right now. A glance down and you noted how he hasn’t dropped your hand yet. “Are you? I don’t think I’ve ever heard you be so..quiet before. Feels weird.”

 He huffed amusedly through his nose before he shrugged his shoulders. “I’ve had a lot on my mind today. And honestly..I’m tired.”

 You use your free hand to reach over and cup the side of his face. Unable to contain yourself from helping provide Steve the comfort you know he needs. 

 His eyes slipped close and he leaned forward enough to rest against the palm of your hand while you gently caressed. He looked as tired as he sounded, and you wanted to help provide him with the ease of a good night’s sleep.

 “I never thanked you.” you murmured, watching as he peeked his eyes open to look at you. “Today you..you helped me in more ways than one.”

 “I think you sort of showed me thanks already.” he countered, a little bit teasing in his tone.

 “Us having sex was not my way of showing thanks.” you scoffed, only slightly amused by his words. “I mostly meant you bringing me home..and then back in the boat house. You helped calm me down.”

 He reached up for your hand to bring them together before him, squeezing them lightly until he pulled them up to press a kiss to the front of your finger tips. Keeping his gaze at you until he settled them back into his lap. 

 “I’m always gonna be here for you, you know that right?”

 The never failing sincerity of his words had you shyly averting your gaze away from his. Unsure how to deal with your own emotions as well as the ones that Steve kept bringing back. But he didn’t seem to want to wait for you to come up with an answer as he used the grip on your hands to pull you in and meet you in the middle of the console. There’s only a small space for you to decide to pull back but you ignored that thought as you pressed your lips against his. 

 The kiss, while breathtaking, was a lot sweeter than the ones you guys had shared today. Almost like a reassuring gesture to help ease you into ending the conversation. 

 “You need to get some sleep.” he urged when he pulled back for air. His plump lips were ghosting over yours now, enticing you back in despite his words saying otherwise. “After everything we need you back in shape tomorrow.” 

 “Okay,” you agreed, not quite moving just yet. “Promise you’ll get some rest too?”

 He nodded his head, pulling himself further back so he could meet your eyes. “I’ll be here as early as I can.” Sighing heavily, you take your hands out of Steve’s grip and reach for the door handle, sparing him one last look before you exited the car. 

 The sound of his engine starting up cut through the silence as you made your way towards the front door of the house. You got the chance to watch as he pulled out of the driveway, waving to you before he fully pulled away and made his turn down the street. 

 Exhaustion covered your whole body as you turned to enter the house. You were more than ready to pass out on your bed for a couple of hours. However, there was one more person waiting to talk. 

 Sat down on the chair beside the couch, was a nervous Dustin. Looking over at you expectantly as he waited for you to finally make your way towards him. He’s barely talked to you today and while you’re sure he was still annoyed with the previous fight you guys had, you could easily tell something else, something deeper was on his mind.

 “Dustin?” you called out slowly. “Are you–”

 “A lot happened yesterday.” he blurted out. Though his words were clipped, there was the familiar hint of Dustin’s sincerity that lingered through. “We could have talked things out but..I just got annoyed and pushed you away.”

 You blinked at that, trying not to think of the day again. “It’s fine, Dustin.”

 “It’s not..I didn't know where you were all day. A girl is dead.” he stood up, moving before you. “You were with Eddie when it happened..it could’ve been..”

 The words died off from his mouth but you feel you already know what he wanted to say. Taking a step forward, you reached out to rest a hand on his shoulder. Trying not to downplay his worry while also attempting to reassure him. “It could’ve been me, but it wasn’t. Okay?”

 “I just can’t shake the feeling that all of this isn’t gonna stop with just Chrissy.” he whispered, almost afraid to speak the words out loud. “It’s never just one attack for us. Vecna..he’s powerful. I don’t know what I’ll do if it’s you or anyone else.”

 “It’s not gonna be any of us.” you reassured him. 

 “How can you be so sure?”

 “Because, we have people like you on our side.” He tried to appear confident at that, but the lingering worry still lingered on his face. He was on the verge of freaking out. “We’re gonna figure this out, okay?”

 “..I hope you’re right.” he mumbled, pulling out of your grip with a sigh. “Let’s get to bed, we have a lot of work tomorrow.”

 With that, he quickly turned to walk away. Leaving you alone in the dimly lit living room with his words echoed in your mind. The worry about this ‘evil wizard’ hung in the air, and the unsettling reality that someone you cared about could be the next target scared you down to your core. 

 Things were different this time and most of the party has been split off. All you could hope for was to hold back the fear that wanted to consume you whole. 

A/N: Sorry it’s taken so long for another update! I was so busy and sick over these past few weeks. I really hope you guys enjoyed this update. I’m hoping to get this next chapter out sooner. Let me know what you guys think! xoxo

TAGGING LIST:

@cluz1babe , @starofavolonea , @darlingimafangirl (won’t let me tag), & @primroseluna​

[quiteliterallyilliterate]

Could you write a yandere FD where reader finds his mask and accidentally frees him? I find the idea of him stalking reader after his freedom and reader being helpless to get help due to what he is.

Order up!

There really isn’t enough FD stuff (that isn’t smut) ((but also in general)) So here you go!

Edit: Part 2

tw: yandere, murder, slaughter of animals, blood/gore

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝

The deity despised what he had come to. A being of such pure power, capable of ripping Termina away from Hyrule thread by thread, was now bound to not much more than a piece of wood. The feeble fears of incapable gods now made a mockery of who and what he was. His prison was bleached and painted with the same war patterns that defined his godliness with the eyes empty for its wearer. Two blank spots —weak spots— in the mask. For when they bound his form to such fragility, there was something of a loophole left behind. The hallowed eyes allowed the wearer to see, and believe they had some control over their actions as his consciousness began to muddle with their own. You see, within the mask there were no holes allowing them —the wearer— to breathe. Because while they wore the mask, likeness of his own face, they didn’t realise the rotting wood begin to mingle with their skin. None of them did. Too hungry for more of the power he could provide and blood he could spill they hardly realized what they were becoming. The paint was always the first to merge with the new wearer, the pigments staining the skin as a faint, ever fading —but never truly gone— reminder of what he was. The hair came next. Silvery white strands mixing with their own around their fringe, framing their face, much similar to his own now. Last was the eyes. Not many kept the mask long enough to ever really hand themselves fully over to him, but his conscience would continue to invade nonetheless. No one held the power to hold him captive in their minds, so a corpse they were rendered. Their eyes would lose their iris, and as the wearer weakened, their eyes would become vast pools of stark white. He heard in the travelers’ wisdom that eyes were the doorway to the soul. Perhaps that was why the eyes were the last part of a person he was bled into. His final act to them was conquering their souls. Where once, double helix sword in hand, he would have slain any thing —living or otherwise— where once he could’ve conquered anything, now he was left to the slow trickle of energy from collected souls.

He’s first made aware of you by your gentle touch. You fingers cup the edge of his face —what was of it now anyway— and attempt to make sense of who it was you were looking at. Perhaps is was they no longer worshipped him in Termina. Centuries could slip by him in this form and he’d not know better. Hand in hand with that, the paint on his mask could very well be greyed and chipped beyond recognition. Immortality was always more faulty than the mortals made it seem. While boredom could be sated with bloodshed and war, it was aging that couldn’t be so simply ignored. Despite the fact his consciousness was as it was from the second he was bound into what he was, it didn’t stop the wood from rotting nor the paint from chipping and fading. Much he was like the warrior constellations in the sky. While consistent across the birth and death of many civilizations, slowly he died with them. Not in the final splatter of blood like the matter of mortality, but it was death in all the way that matters. Perhaps Hylia proved that you can kill a god. Sure, she may have ‘killed’ demise, but cyclically, he was still her tormentor. With Fierce, his form was weak. Too weak to hold him further. Much like the mortals who believed they could shoulder the weight, this form would too crack and rot beneath the earth. His point still stood that in spite of every possible factor that your serenity shouldn’t have met with his ruthlessness, you’d defied fate nonetheless.

By your grace he loved to watch you. Mounted on the fireplace, he could see everything in your tiny cabin. He could watch you cook food for yourself, sing as you cleaned the dishes afterward, and especially the fact you often would fall asleep on the couch meant he could spend even longer admiring the curves of your face. You were incomparably precious to the world. He remembers the days of his youth in divinity, freshly given his purpose. He’d killed many in those days, like an executioner who’s axe discriminated against none. The worship he once had, the temples he’d once been graced with, the concubines left for him… Perhaps he wanted more than to watch you. Being so close to what he wanted, truly wanted, made him antsy. And you’d live through life like you’d not known better. You’d talk to people where he couldn’t monitor to keep you safe, you’d leave the protection he offered. He’d long for you while you sat just out of reach, tempting him to try something. And so he did. It seems years of rot made the wood fragile.

You were honestly quite disappointed the mask had broke. The wood was splintered across the floor, and with how old it was, it really wasn’t worth saving. Still, you collected the bits from across the floor and kept moving. The forest was still and quiet as you traveled, the wind would whistle in the trees and a murder of crows crowded around you. Unfortunately, you had no bread or shinies to spare aside from a small green rupee, which they normally would’ve cawed and kicked around. Instead, their beady eyes watched you, huddled high in the trees as you waded through the forest. You could feel their eyes on you the whole way past.

The dead animals on your doorstep are not only mildly concerning, given their split open ribs, but incredibly creepy the longer it goes on. Clearly whoever was doing this was stubbornly persistent given their notes in a not very decipherable language. At first they left you a crow, the day they watched you. It had a small ring in its leg you didn’t bother to touch. The next was a badger, followed by fox, then an elk. Now, it was entirely beyond you who’d collect that many animals carcasses —you’d doubted they were hunted, given the large lacerations across their torsos— but it wasn’t much flattering. It wasn’t until you’d caved and cooked one of the elks and they’d kept giving you more that you’d considered they were trying to feed you. Sweet as that was, no one person had a use for that much elk. No one person could hunt that much elk. No person would see it right to draw a sigil in blood on the back wall of someone’s house in elk blood. No one person would help you.

You were still beautiful as you slept. He was glad now you were his spouse, though it did take you a while to get used to his courting. It was for the best though, you were well fed and protected now, more than any mortal man could hope to provide you with. He did enjoy killing all your other suitors. That tradition was always entertaining.

[vengefultakeover]

Sketch & Rein

My drafting table had a screw missing from the hinge that propped it up at the perfect angle. I had made it a habit not to draw with my face so close to the page so that I would inhale the graphite that dusted the surface of the paper, but now the top wobbled as the tip of my pencil drifted along my drawing and my straight line zigged. The model I was drawing was curvaceous, a close representation of the model that commissioned me a dress for a gala event that she would be attending with her husband. Our first meeting consisted of her showing me a wonderful selection of dresses that her eye had been drawn to and I used them as the pool for my inspiration.

"I want all of this to be accentuated." She said, referencing her figure. I loved her confidence, something I wish I had. She had every right to be confident, she was beautiful. The preliminary sketches I rendered were sent over and she loved all of the colorful works of art, which narrowed down very little for me, but I knew exactly what she would love despite it. The tip of my pencil reached the hemline and the table top creaked followed by an aggressive thunk that made the graphite snap.

"What the - " I closed my eyes, calmly reached for my inkwell pencil sharpener and listened to the blade shave off the wood to a point inside the red glass container. I abandoned the pencil in the cup hanging blissfully next to the table and ducked under it to find the source of my problem. My fingers slid over the metal pieces until I found an empty hole, one that, if filled, would have stabilized the desk. As my finger ran over it, my doorbell rang and I hit the back of my head with an angry huff. Quickly, I pulled a bag of frozen vegetables from the freezer and placed it on the sore spot, opening the door to greet the stranger.

"Hey, are you Mike?" He asked, a bag slung over his shoulder, "I had called the other day about the extra room and we were supposed to meet today."

"Shit, I'm so sorry I completely forgot. You are - ?" I invited him in, adjusting the bag on my head before abandoning it on the table by the door.

"I'm Rein. Are you okay? That looks like it hurt." He chuckled.

"Oh yeah, just a bump. Want to check out the place?" I pointed towards the rest of the apartment and gave him a tour. "This is the kitchen, well stocked with vegetable ice packs, and this is the living room." I spun on my heels as I extended my arms to present the room like it was a Price is Right prize. "There are technically three bedrooms, but I use the downstairs as a studio. The other two are upstairs."

"Oh wow, three stories? This looks great," He peeked down the stairs into my studio, "When would I be able to move in? I'm looking for a place since I'll be starting school soon."

"School? Are you an undergrad?" I asked.

"Nah, I'm going to grad school. I'm going in for Architecture." He chuckled.

"That's awesome, I just got here for grad too. Fashion design." I sunk down into a chair in the living room, "I'll have to do whatever paperwork, but if you wanted to move in soon I'm sure it would be fine. The bedroom upstairs is ready whenever you’d like it."

"Oh? That's amazing. Yeah, I'd love to move in by the weekend. I want a couple of days to settle down. Maybe even get to know my cute roommate." He laughed. Did he really just say that? My cheeks flushed red and I suddenly felt warm all over.

“Oh, well, you're welcome to it. I'll email the landlord and just let them know I found the roommate and they'll send over the paperwork as soon as they decide to I guess. Move-in season is always really busy." I shrugged, face still warm from the cute roommate comment. He looked over the apartment again before heading to the door.

"I'll be over tomorrow to move in what I've got. It's just a couple of boxes and a bed. Nothing crazy." He stood in the doorway and I nodded.

"I'll see you tomorrow then." He winked and then disappeared out into the parking lot. I returned to my studio and as I walked in I felt something hard dig into the heel of my foot. I stumbled over it, avoiding any more pain of my weight stepping on the missing loose screw that would stabilize my desktop.

"This is the last of it." Rein let the mattress plop onto the ground of the second bedroom and I dusted myself off. I had offered to help him unload his car, which went much faster than I had anticipated.

"I'll leave you to it. I have to take care of some final bits of this job." I pointed in the general direction I was headed and he nodded.

"Thanks for the help."

"No problem. I'll be downstairs." On my way out I knocked my shoulder against the doorframe and I put my head down in embarrassment, quickly rushing away to my studio.

The design I was working on only needed a couple more details. A full ensemble of pieces and accessories were important and I wanted to make sure that this was a look and not just any regular gala dress. I capped the last marker, finishing the sketch and tossing all of my drawing tools into the bin they were stored in. Quickly looking back at the door to make sure Rein was still upstairs, I heard a distant thud of something being dropped. Deciding that he was far enough away to not disturb me, I picked up the sketch and stood in the center of the room. With a deep breath, I closed my eyes and felt my lungs fill with crisp air. With the sketch in one hand, I took my other hand and pushed my fingers into the page. Instead of the ripping or the paper folding like one might suspect, my glowing hands sunk into the sketch as though it were a vertical pool of water and after getting a good grip I pulled out the bodice of the dress. I let the paper fall, and it dropped with a thud as the gown flourished out of the page. The seams were crisp and the details were immaculate as the remaining sunlight of the day caught the diamond embellishments and made them sparkle. Looking down at the page, the sketch remained intact except the color was a little bit tinted. I rolled a dress form out from the corner and put it on it to get a good look. The matching bag and shoes were next, easily plucked out of the pages they were drawn on.

"Wow. That was one incredible magic trick." I fell over, hitting my head on my stool this time instead of the now-fixed desk which made me growl as I pushed my hand against the new sore spot. The purse and heels hit the ground a few feet away with another clunk.

"Fuck. I should have been more careful." I applied pressure to the bump and winced.

"What do you mean? That was awesome." Rein came to help me up off the ground and as he helped me up I realized he was surprisingly warm.

"I don't really tell people about my quirk. It's easy to hide, but people still act weird around people with them." I went to pick up the heels and purse and I set them down on my cutting table. One of the buckles on the shoe seemed to have been knocked out of place. I looked Rein up and down and at this point didn't care too much if he saw me do it again. I bent down, reached inside the sketch and pulled out a duplicate pair of heels with the buckle perfectly attached.

"That's a bit wasteful. Don't you think?" He chuckles. I squint at him, not particularly enjoying his playful jabs as the thought of exposure meant I might need to go to a different school. I shook my head, rolled my eyes, and tossed the initial pair of heels back towards the sketch and they exploded into a cloud of color before being sucked back into the page.

"I really need you not to tell anyone." I crossed my arms and leaned against the table.

"Tell anyone? I would never out you like that. Should I tell you my quirk to make it even?" I stared at his smirk for a moment, watching his smug face with a look of shock on my own.

"You have a quirk?" I ask.

"It's easy for me to hide too, but we're going to have to go somewhere else for me to show you. It requires another individual." He shrugs and turns down the hall, heading upstairs.

"So what exactly is it?" I pushed my hands into my pockets as I follow him inside the gas station. The door chime went off throughout the store and he scanned the aisles for people, but it was relatively dead. The cashier was an older gentleman, and looked like he was about to turn to dust if someone talked to him.

"Mmm, that." A bright yellow sportscar revved its engine as it pulled in front of a pump. A hulking man stepped out of it, making the transaction as he filled his car up with gas. I followed Rein out as he walked over to the car, looking up to check for cameras. Only one was pointed in his direction, but it looked broken. He snuck around the car, approaching the stranger from behind and then slipped into him. Rein was nowhere to be found, but the man took a deep breath in, face turning pink before he turned to me and relaxed his shoulders. He smiled, pushed down his shorts to show off his ass and continued pumping gas.

"What the - " Before I could finish, the pump thunked and this man continued to finish up at the pump with his shorts down. He closed up the gas tank with a double click of the cap and then turned towards me with a smile.

"So? What do you think? We even?" He pulled his shorts up and then leaned against the car with that same smug look on his face that Rein was wearing earlier. To be honest, I felt a bit of a rush as he looked at me.

"I don't know what to say. That's impressive." I crossed my arms, nodding at him.

"I should give him back, though. I've made my point." He winked at me, turned towards the gas tank and then Rein slipped out of his back. The muscled hunk twitched and shook his head before getting into his car and driving off with a full tank of gas.

"I think we're even." I looked at him and his eyes sparkled a bit as he smiled in my direction.

"We should go out. I think we could have some fun together." Rein spun around on my stool in the studio as I finished up the dress. One of the nice things about my quirk is I could make the materials needed for any missing pieces and last minute details. This made the fabric store useless unless I wanted inspiration. It meant I got to avoid the judgmental quilters and home-sewers who felt they were the pinnacle of fashion in their book clubs and sewing circles. It also means that everything that comes from my sketches was an original.

"I need to finish this." I said, doodling a needle and a spool of thread, filling in the color with a marker and then picking it up off the page.

"Does your quirk have any limits? Like can you draw anything and make it real?" Rein leaned towards me as I stitched the hem and made sure the seams were reinforced.

"I haven't really tried. I don't normally use it for anything other than small things like this. I know that I can't like draw books and have their pages filled with the story I'm thinking of, it normally just comes out blank." I picked a pin out of the fabric and stabbed it into my wrist pin cushion.

"What about money?"

"Everyone always asks me that, but, ow fuck," pushing the needle through the fibers, I felt the sharp end pierce my finger and I looked up at him. "I can make money, but sometimes it can read as fake. Not always though." I sucked my finger, the taste of iron swirling around in my mouth.

"That's awesome. Do you get tired?" He crossed his legs next to me as I finished up the last few stitches. "I only ask because sometimes if I'm inside if someone for a really long time I have to regain all that energy I spent."

"I haven't really, but I also haven't tried anything that might make me tired." I shrugged.

"Like what?"

"I don't know, like a person?" I started putting away my tools, adding the ones I wanted to keep and then crushing the other in my hand as they turned into particles of color and slipped between my fingers.

"I haven't tried that, no. I did accidentally turn one of my drawings as a kid into a real thing, which terrified my parents. That was a crazy way to figure out your son had a quirk." I laughed, stepping back to look at the dress. There was a moment of silence as Rein joined me in looking at the garment I had created.

"It's beautiful." He rocks side to side in the chair.

"Thank you." I blush, looking over at him.

"So, now that your done would you like to go out?" He smiled.

"Fine, but only because I finished early." I chuckled.

The gas station light flickered as a woman approached the older gentleman at the counter and spoke in a warm clear tone, "Hi there, I hope you're having a wonderful evening. Have you seen anything out of the ordinary happening around here?" Her dress swished side to side as she leaned against the counter. The warm smile on her face was sickly sweet and the older gentleman shook his head. After getting nothing from the old man, her smile dropped and she turned away from him to look around the aisles.

"Is there anything else I can do for you?" The elderly man coughed.

"I can feel it. They've been here," She sniffed the air like a bloodhound, "two of them.” She turned back to the old man with that sickly sweet grin.

"Ma'am?" His raspy voice struggled.

"I'd like to see your footage for the day," Her smile is frozen as she spoke and her eyes swirled, turning from a brown to a dark purple. The older man stands there dazed and then blankly nods.

"Yes, ma'am." He coughs.

[neteyamyawne]

🦋 — Daddy Kink

✧ 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 : ꜱᴛᴇᴘᴅᴀᴅ!ᴊᴀᴋᴇ x ꜱᴛᴇᴘᴅᴀᴜɢʜᴛᴇʀ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

✧ 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 : ᴊᴀᴋᴇ ꜱᴛᴀʀᴛꜱ ᴛᴏ ꜱᴇᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ɪɴ ᴀ ᴅɪꜰꜰᴇʀᴇɴᴛ ʟɪɢʜᴛ ꜱɪɴᴄᴇ ʜɪꜱ ꜱᴛᴇᴘᴅᴀᴜɢʜᴛᴇʀ ᴛᴜʀɴꜱ 19 ᴀꜱ ʜᴇ ᴄᴀɴ'ᴛ ꜱᴛᴏᴘ ᴛʜɪɴᴋɪɴɢ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ʜᴇʀ.

MDNI ✯

❈ Warnings : stepcest, stepdad Jake x stepdaughter reader, reader is 19! Jake is obviously over 40, pervert Jake, Fingering (F receiving), age gap, Smut! Daddy kink, minors stay away!!! Grooming, somnophilia, do not read if it makes you uncomfortable!

❈ Word Count : 0.9k proof read

❈ Note : lmao i forgot to write this prompt, i had this idea but I was stuck writing for other prompts lol, wrote this in a hurry ;)

ᴋɪɴᴋᴛᴏʙᴇʀ | ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ | ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ

Jake was obsessed, feverish, obliviated by you…. But it was wrong, so so wrong, taken in by him and Neytiri when your parents left pandora and you here as babies and toddlers weren’t fit for cryo, he saw you grow up with his kids, but since puberty hit you like a train and those short little na’vi cloths left nothing for imagination, his hunger grew more and more.

Stealing your dirty loin cloths and jerking off to them deep into the woods, away from any watchful eye, watching you sleep in their tent beside Kiri and tuk, body so small and supple, skin so soft and glowing in the firelight, the rise and dips of your curves so alluring, he loved Neytiri no doubt but something about you made blood rush to his cock and he knew he had to do something about it, sooner than he thought…

»»————-　✯　————-««

It was a bright sunny afternoon, Neytiri and Neteyam were out hunting, Kiri and tuk were with Mo’at, Lo’ak and Spider were exploring again, which concerned Jake but not enough to stop thinking about you, this was the perfect time, your small body laying on the mat, soft breaths filtering through your nose, you were waiting for Neteyam to come back so you could make new armbands with him but your human body needed rest and waiting was boring, a nap being the best idea as you thought.

Jake watched you from across the tent, sharpening his knife until the blade was rendered to uselessness, with a huff he threw the knife away and walked over to your sleeping form, looming over you as he admired your soft features, the peaceful look on your face, his fingers brushing your hair out of your face, trailing down to your cheek, then neck, eyes flicking over to your ample breasts, mother nature really did a good number on you.

He just couldn’t take enough of you, his hands now cupping one of your tit, squeezing softly, face lowering next to yours, he thanked eywa for making you a heavy sleeper, his other hand rested on the curve of your waist, massaging the soft skin, relishing in the sublime feeling of finally touching you openly after months of subtle but inappropriate touches, which you didn’t mind in the least, dismissing them as nothing but unknowingly you started to crave them more and more as time went on.

Your eyes fluttered open when you felt something grip the side of your face, when Jake’s golden eyes became clear, you didn’t expect your body to react the way it did, heat pooled in the pit of your stomach, thighs clamping close as you came to your senses “Da- Daddy?” your soft whisper ignited something primal within him, he caressed your cheek gently.

“Shh Babygirl, you know the drill, let daddy take care of you now, relax” he cooed softly in your ear, your body relaxing as if on command, his skilled fingers untying your loin cloth, running two digits down your wet folds, your breath hitched, trying to close your thighs again but he held them spread open.

Your hands reached up to hold onto his shoulders, a soft moan falling off your lips, while one hand worked on your soaked pussy, the other fondled with your breast rolling the nub between the thumb and index finger, his lips peppering marks and hickies over your neck which you knew you’d get in trouble for later but right now he was the only one on your mind.

His slender fingers slipped in your awaiting hole, curling them inside your spasming walls, hitting the spongy spot repeatedly, making you cry out but his hand immediately covered your mouth as he glared down at you with his golden eyes, whimpering under his fingers hit the spot again, eyes rolling back in your skull “keep quiet babygirl, we don’t want anyone to know do we?” he growled lowly near your cheek, his fingers setting a restless pace, the pad of his thumb rubbing your perky clit, pressing down as you felt your release approaching, your groaned against his hand “dadyy pwesee” your muffled please fell over his ears, the smirk plastered on his face, knowing you were completely under his control, to use as he pleases.

“Cum for me, babygirl, Cum on daddy’s fingers” he whispers in your ear, nibbling on the earlobe, his fingers fucking you ruthlessly, your nails digging into his shoulder, face screwed in pleasure, your muffled moans filled the tent as you became undone on his fingers, face red in embarrassment as he chuckled pulling his fingers out and sucking on them “good girl, so obedient” he watched you catch your breath, coming down from your high, humming in pleasure of your sweet taste on his tongue, the tightness under his own loin cloth bothering him but he wanted to pleasure you more, make you go cross eyed before taking it to the next step “don’t worry, babygirl, I’m not done with you yet”

your doe eyes looking up at him, eagerness written all over your face “Yes, Daddy” he chuckled lowering his head between your legs, the plush of your thighs squeezing his head, he couldn’t be more happy as he spread them apart, his words vibrating against your dripping cunt “that’s my girl”

𝐀/𝐧 : lmao this was my dream to write about step dad Jake, like make him all pervy and stuff 😂

Yawne : @pandoraslxna, @taylormarieee, @persefolli, @eyweveng, @deadgirlrin, @eyrina-avatar, @avatarsslut, @myloveforyouisforever, @neteyamsoare, @bobthe-turmpetman29, @nonniesworld, @zanabelle99, @thehoneymushroomhealer, @neteyamgfs, @xylianasblog, @solstealer.

*if your tags don't work please check your settings.

©Neteyamyawne2023 | All Rights Reserved. Do not repost on other platforms, copy, steal, or translate any of my works!

[redcoralpot]

Smudged (3) Rodrick Heffley X M! Reader

Anddd it's here!

Warnings: Mentioned eating disorder otherwise not specified.

Summary: You were busy enough in life, too busy for what school planned to throw at you; at everyone. A boy you know well seemed to come up with an idea to manage that.

Word Count: 2.7K

-

A white pillowcase smashed against a mess of blonde hair, “Get up.”

Heather’s eyes scrunched up, her first action of the day being to glare at you with an unreasonable amount of venom. The sky outside was just starting to shine through the blinds in her bedroom, clashing against the pink theme of it all. She was never quite the morning person, but frankly, waking her and Holly up was simply your duty; it has been since it was just the two of you.

“School’s been in for two weeks, you should be used to this by now,” you snickered, backing away from the bed.

“Get out of my room!”

That was the only warning you got before she initiated her revenge, sending the poor, soft pillow flying once again. You balanced onto your toes as you shut the door as quickly as you could; the only proof that the object hit the target was the loud thump on the thin wood, “Be careful not to mess up your precious cotton pillowcases!”

“They’re satin, you freak,” Heather yelled, echoing in the hallway you retreated down.

Holly’s room was the second farthest away from yours, only being beat by your parents’. The only thing that separated it from the rest of the house was a tie-dyed sheet; her choice, of course. With careful fingers, you peeked inside, seeing your little sister shifting and groaning in her blankets.

Softly, “It’s time to wake up, I got your favorite cereal downstairs.”

She shot up, staring at you with wide eyes, “Really?”

“Of course I did! Not a day goes by where I don’t spoil my favorite little sister, now does it?”

You disappeared back behind the sheets when she scrambled out of bed, eager to get dressed. The stairs groaned underneath your covered feet, almost as if they were as unenthusiastic about the day as you were. Both of your parents leave for work earlier than most now that Holly was old enough to be left alone with her older siblings, but because Heather rendered herself helpless in the morning, the role of caretaker was left to you. 

All three of you have to leave for school at seven, so you wake your siblings up to greet the morning at six o’clock sharp, no more, no less. You as yourself get up an hour earlier in order to gather your own things, pack lunches, pack Holly’s bag, and have time for yourself. It was exhausting, always, but it was worth it to see the two of them shine.

The kitchen was adjacent to the dining room, with warm lighting to start the morning off in the right mood. You dug your fingers into the cardboard seal on the cereal before popping open the plastic bag inside, not bothering to use scissors. It never spilled everywhere, after all. As you heard Holly’s light footsteps swirling down the stairs, you shook a serving into a ceramic bowl, setting it beside a cup of milk on the usual table. Heather never ate breakfast, and no matter how hard you tried, she insisted that she needed to skip in order to keep up with her dream body. If you pushed it, she snapped.

When Holly finally appeared and slid into her seat, you sat in a chair beside her, “How’re classes going? I heard this is the year you finally start switching classrooms for periods.”

“They’re going good, I guess.” She sighed, pouring the milk into her breakfast, “My teacher for English already handed out the project prompts for this year, but I don’t wanna do it.”

“Wait, wait, what the hell? Already?”

“You haven’t gotten yours yet?”

“No, not in my school. Isn’t it against the rules to get a head start?”

“It was only a day before you, so I don’t think so,” she grumbled, mouth full.

“Well, it should be.”

“Nobody’s started working on it yet.”

You threw your hands up in the air, laughing, “Still!”

Over the oven, the clock blinked at you. You ruffled Holly’s hair, while she turned her head towards you, adorned with a milky mustache, “We have to get going soon, your stuff’s leaning on the door.”

She jumped out of her chair, running to the bottom of the stairs to call upwards, “Heather! We gotta go!”

“I just need five more minutes to finish getting ready,” Heather replied, half silenced by the sound of the bowls settling into the sink.

“Nuh-uh, we have to go now!”

Holly shuffled her shoes on, sitting down to tie them neatly. Your twin hurried down the stairs, squishing past the other girl on the way down, flipping her hair behind her back. She opened the door, and shivered as the early chill seeped into her bones. Heather grabbed her bag alongside Holly’s, practically throwing it in the car before placing her own down in the backseat. You double checked the oven, lights, and sinks, before shoving Holly out the door and locking it behind you. Heather called shotgun, therefore Holly had to squish herself in between everyone’s backpacks. The car started with a weak, stumbling roar, and you were on your way.

The world was only just starting to wake up in a blur outside the windows as the voice of a young woman sang throughout your vehicle, interrupted with the occasional tapping of Heather texting her friends. She never stopped keeping up with her social life, it seemed. However, while everyone else was lost in thought, one thing stuck in your mind.

“Hey, did you get your prompt?” you said, glancing at the girl beside you.

Heather did not even look up from her screen, “Duh. You haven’t?”

“Ugh.”

“So… that’s a no.”

As you pulled into the parking lot of the school, lined behind an endless row of cars, she smacked you in the arm, “Why are you in the drop-off line? I’m driving the girls to the mall after school today, I told you last night.”

“Okay, okay,” you hissed, turning the wheel, “you didn’t have to hit me!”

“Don’t get a spot too far from the school, either!”

Your car slowed to a stop and powered off, as you slipped the key out and handed it to Heather, “I’ll kill you if you lose that– now both of you, shoo! Get out!”

Its doors were slammed shut, and it locked with a beep. You leaned against the hood of the vehicle, watching carefully as your two sisters entered the school. It was a plain-looking building, which the school pathetically attempted to fix with a few colorful flower bushes. The air around you was silent, as quiet as a parking lot could be, and you turned to walk the rest of the way to your school building. Yet, before you could step any farther, a white van screeched past. Deafening music screamed out; it was distorted from how roughly the driver was maneuvering potholes. Oh, how bad you felt for the passengers, did the driver even have a license? You shook your head, glad that you had the sense to keep an eye on your sisters.

The school you went to was not far away, simply a few buildings down the opposite side of the street. Due to their close proximity, they were always competing in everything; from student count, finances, even to awards. So much so that they had devised a competition to be held between the schools each year to contribute to the state curriculum. It was annual, of course, and every single one of the projects made would be showcased and judged based on a variety of categories. Whichever school gets on the podium the most, well, you get the point. That doesn’t mean it’s not a pain in the ass, however.

The day went quicker than usual, with you patiently awaiting the class of which you would get your prompt and category; English. You were set on it enough that even Daniel noticed, poking and picking at you the entire day, finding time to do it in the hallways when you did not have classes together. He reached his hand back towards you, fingers making a crude attempt at stealing your eraser.

You slapped it away as the bell rang, the seats in the classroom filled, “What’re you doing?”

“Lightening the mood, ever heard of it?” he whispered back, craning his neck to look at you.

Students around the two of you were passing papers back, the teacher’s eyes glaring holes into Daniel’s head. He squeaked, taking his prompt, and proceeded to throw the slip of paper behind him. It fluttered in the air, and came to a rest on the top of your nose. He earned two more holes being burned into him as it slid gracefully off of the tip. For revenge, you leaned forward, your hand hovering over a stray lock of Daniel’s hair. He had opened his own paper, shoulders scrunched, and you yanked the strand in favor of reading it.

He yelped while you raised an eyebrow, “Tree vandalism, huh?”

“What the fuck, dude,” More groans arose from the class around you, “what did I do?”

“You know what you did.”

“Ms. Kawiti already avenged you with whatever this is, please do tell me what tree vandalism is!” He rolled his eyes.

“Well, what’s the category?”

“Environmental Science– I hate that class, you don’t understand.”

You slouched against your desktop, “Loser. I bet they chose that on purpose.”

“If you’re so confident, why don’t you open yours?”

“I was getting to it!”

Daniel scooched his chair around, almost unheard in the chatter-filled room, when you thumbed the slip open. Percussion; musical. Ah, yes, now you could understand the reaction of everyone else. It felt like the administration grouped together all of the staff to give all of the students the worst prompts imaginable, even the janitor. Even God himself knows that the janitor hates them all, rightfully. Perhaps this was his plan to avenge himself and any of the past janitors as well, after a decade of working there. Perhaps you could plead for mercy, even as the class around you fell silent.

He squinted his eyes, attempting to read it upside down, “That isn’t too bad, unlike something someone got.”

“Since when can you read like that?”

“Since now,” Daniel said.

You scoffed, crumpling the paper and tossing it in your bag, “I don’t even know anything about percussion.”

“Well, the whole point is to research a topic, so,” he waved his own, “Google it, go to the library, pay the music teacher a visit for the first time this year. At least you get to have fun with yours!”

“Yeah, true, I won’t be stuck studying trees.” At that, Daniel stuck up his middle finger, scowling. 

A singular finger tapped his shoulder, a ring adorning it. You hid a smile behind your hand as Daniel slowly turned, getting tenser with each second that passed. His eyes followed the figure upward, until they finally met her own. Ms. Kawiti, in all her glory, stood firm in front of his desk with pursed lips; an action that gave you a better look of the tattoo of which ran down the bottom of her lips to her chin.

“Class was dismissed five minutes ago, boys. And Mr. Ivanov, if I see that behavior in my classroom again, I won’t hesitate to give you detention.”

Daniel shrunk in his seat, “Yes, ma’am, understood.”

She strolled to the front of the classroom, and busied herself with a stack of papers. He wasted no time shoving his materials into his backpack, heaving it onto his shoulder, and most likely busting the door hinges with how fast he ran out. You allowed yourself to remove your hand from your mouth, snickering. As you got up to follow your friend, the teacher looked up from her papers with a certain twinkle in her eye.

“Remember that working with another student is prohibited; have a nice day.” As you slipped out of the classroom at last.

Daniel was waiting for you outside, and trailed behind you as you appeared. He grabbed a string on your bag, per usual, in order to not lose you in the waves of students crashing into the both of you. You pulled him along, leading him to the quickly emptying rows of lockers in the hallway. This is where the pressure on your backpack stopped, and Daniel slammed open his door. The lock holding yours open clicked under your fingers, allowing you to dump the contents of your bag inside while its pins shook. 

He loudly asked, “Is it just me, or is she horribly strict?”

“Every teacher is strict to you, dude, you just hate school.” You hissed, “If anything, Ms. Kawiti is the least strict teacher that we’ve ever had.”

“She did let me off with a warning for flipping you off instead of detention.”

You smacked his back, “You’re one lucky man, Daniel. She won’t let you off that easily next time.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me.”

He zipped up his bag, hitting you with it as he tugged it on. You made a face at him, only to see him smirking at you, before darting down the hall and towards the two large exit doors. Your jaw tightened, teeth grinding against one another. Even as you chased him from a distance, you could hear his cackles only getting louder as you started to close it, reaching out a hand to grab him by the collar. Daniel knew he couldn’t outrun you; he never once had beaten you in mandatory track practices in middle school, much less now. He lasted a grand total of thirty-two seconds before you seized him by the back of his neck, a mere foot from the doors. 

“You lost.”

Daniel cursed, “I have a heavier bag than you, of course I did!”

“Excuses, excuses.” You flicked his nose before setting him on the ground outside of the building, joining him shortly. The last thing you wanted was to pay a visit to the principal’s office simply because a teacher saw you playing. 

As you slid down the railing, accompanying the boy jumping down the stairs, he said, “Where’s your car? Aren’t you driving home today?”

“Nah, man. Heather wanted to take the girls and Holly out to the mall.”

“I could drive you home, if you want.”

You huffed, “No thanks, wouldn’t wanna be a bother.”

Daniel held his hands high in the air, backing away towards his car, “If you say so.”

“See you tomorrow, tell me how the research goes.”

“You better text me when you get home, don’t make me wait until math in the morning to see if you got kidnapped!” he yelled, slamming his door shut and peeking out the window.

Instead of answering, you stuck out your tongue at him as the engine roared. Really, you could have sworn he flipped you off again before pulling out of the lot, speeding off until you would be able to see him the next day. You chuckled, shifting the weight of your bag onto your other shoulder, starting onto your journey home. Heather and Holly should both be out of school by now, despite the fact that your school releases earlier than theirs, and should be on their way to the mall. You can’t steal the car back now, can you?

That is all you could think about as you crossed the street, running across the sections where cars were lined, peering at the entrance in hopes of seeing your siblings. Instead, you could only see a puff of brown hair hurtling towards you before a body hit you, an arm curling around your neck and spinning you around. You hurled over, trying to throw the person off of you, not wanting to take Daniel’s words seriously. A grunt and a smack rang out as he hit the floor; you stumbled a few steps back. 

A cough, “What was that for?” Rodrick spluttered.

You exhaled in a hurry, “Oh my god, it’s you.”

“Of course it’s me, who else would it be?”

“A kidnapper,” you responded dumbly.

He rolled onto his hands and knees, shaking as he staggered onto his feet once again, “Damn, I just wanted to say hi.”

“What part of hi requires you to jump on me?”

“The friendly part, duh.”

You stayed silent, looking at him with furrowed eyebrows. He seemed to pick up on your mood, scratching the back of his neck, his voice still hoarse from the fall. 

“I need you to do a favor for me.”

-

[allmyocsarebritish]

Close tonight

Pairing: Goody Addams X reader

A/N: The amount of research I did on the 1600s for a single one shot is ridiculous haha so I'll probably write a pre/sequel :)

Summary: Despite the fact Goody often became lost in her quest for vengeance on Crackstone, you were always there to ground her; to pull her back to safety as she danced along the edge of sanity.

This was one of those nights.

She was a raven, destined to navigate the path of life in solitude. Therefore, she pushed those closest to her away, before they had a chance to leave on their own accord.

At first, this plan she devised worked impeccably. If she kept her distance, she would never feel the immense grief associated with the abandonment of those she loved.

Though nothing lasts forever.

Goody truly didn't understand why you felt such a strong attachment towards her. She did not believe herself to be of that much importance, yet clearly you believed otherwise. Wherever Goody was, there was no doubt you would be near. You simply could not seem to comprehend that proximity to a raven such as herself was essentially a death wish.

What she didn't know was that you understood perfectly, you just didn't care. How could you stay away, when Goody was just so entirely flawless in every way? You were physically unable.

Death would be more than worth the suffering if it meant you could hold her close tonight.

Of course she had attempted to distance herself, but no matter how hard she tried, you were always there. Admittedly, over time, her attempts to push you away faded out, until diminishing completely. If you were so desperate to be with her, then who was she to deny that?

Future agony would be more than worth the pain if it meant she could hold you close tonight.

Being a raven, Goody's mind was a swirling sea of horrific visions beneath violent, thunderous clouds created by Joseph Crackstone. Despite the constant raging storm, you infiltrated your way in and calmed the tempest. You brought her peace and tranquility, something so unusual for the psychic outcast. This was something that frequently proved itself to be essential, as although Goody often became lost in her quest for vengeance on Crackstone, you were there to ground her; to pull her back to safety as she danced along the edge of sanity. Goody was a strong and powerful enchantress: you were entirely aware of her skill in alchemy. Yet her vast knowledge, desire to succeed and extreme thirst for revenge could push her to breaking point, as she devoted her life to avenging her mother's barbaric murder. The headstrong sorceress would spend hours upon hours plotting strategies and studying dark incantations, refusing to eat, sleep or take even the smallest of breaks.

This was one of those nights.

Your legs dangled as you sat on a low beam of wood which formed the hayloft of a delapidated stable once owned by your family, watching as Goody paced and fretted in the space below you. Lying open on a pile of mildly rotten straw was her Codex Umbrarum, or Book of Shadows as you favoured. Despite Goody's insistence that the Latin name was superior, rendering the translation pointless, it stuck, and even she referred to the grimoire as such herself.

She continued to mumble beneath her breath, occasionally frantically scribbling, before once again leaping to her feet and subconsciously policing the derelict shelter. With one final swing of your feet, you pushed yourself from the low wooden beam and down to join her in the main part of the ancient shed. One of your hands reached out for Goody's, your fingers gently interlocking with hers, whilst your other one gently cupped her cheek, turning her face away from her excruciating work, barely stroking your thumb against her alabaster skin in small, comforting circles, as though she were fragile porcelain you were terrified to shatter.

"My sweet Mouse," you spoke softly, "The time is not yet right. Rest now, and I promise the night of your vengeance will soon be upon us."

Despite an overly stretched moment of visible reluctance, Goody sighed gently, and leaned in to your delicate touch, her weary eyes fluttering closed for a few (painfully short) seconds.

"I'll be alright, dearest one," she responded quietly. "I'm simply drained."

"I know, sweet Goody. You truly must rest; do not allow that evil pilgrim to rob you of your health on top of all that which he has already stolen from you, beloved."

Goody raised her spare hand and lifted it until it rested on top of yours, which was still faintly holding her cheek. She smiled at you, a sight that you adored, and you couldn't help but replicate her expression yourself.

You removed your hand from Goody's, in favour of wrapping your arm around her waist, pulling her close to you. She raised her arms, hugging them around your shoulders. The hand that still held her jaw coaxed her head towards yours, and into a soft kiss. When you retreated, Goody leaned forwards again slowly, gently kissing the tip of your nose, before resting her forehead against yours.

It was moments like these that the two of you cherished. Your breathing quickened to match hers, and soon the rise and fall of your chests were perfectly in sync. With another kiss, albeit this one slightly rougher, you pulled back, once again taking Goody's hand.

"Come," You pulled her gently. "Let us ease down for the night." With that, Goody nodded and you began to make your way up the shoddy wooden steps of the worn ladder, and back up into the hayloft.

Naturally, sleeping on a bed of rough, filthy straw was not the most comfortable, but for outcasts in 17th century Jericho, it was the utmost luxury. You lay on your side, facing Goody as she held you tightly. One of your hands reached up to delicately brush a few strands of dirty blonde hair out of her face. Goody raised her arm from caressing you, and you missed the warm presence instantly. However, when she placed her index finger beneath your chin, guiding you into a passionate kiss, you melted into her touch, twirling her nearest plait between your fingers. Without breaking the kiss, you swiftly released the pale ribbon constraining the left side of her hair. You both returned to the surface for a deep breath of air, before returning back to the sea of bliss, as you slowly untangled Goody's hair.

Your lips began to numb as you pulled back fully, pressing one final kiss to Goody's reddened ones. She gently rubbed the tip of her nose against yours, sighing slightly. You cuddled her closer, your lips against her forehead and breath slightly tickling her now loose hair. She closed her eyes as you admired the way the extremely dim light luminated her features.

As you began to slowly drift off into a dreamy sleep yourself, you heard a faint whisper, signalling Goody was in fact awake.

"I love you, my darling."

"I love you more."

The woes of the future would be worth the torture if it meant you could hold eachother close tonight.

[sebastianswallows]

The English Client — Four

— PAIRING: Tom Riddle x F!Reader

— SYNOPSIS: The year is 1952. Tom is working for Borgin and Burkes. He is sent to Rome to acquire three ancient books of magic by any means necessary. One in particular proves challenging to reach, and the only path forward is through a pretty, young bookseller. A foreigner like him, she lives alone, obsessed with her work... until Tom comes into her life.

— WARNINGS: none, but almost main character death lol

— WORDCOUNT: 2.5k

I

Tom stayed away for a few days. He stalked around some other rare book stores but found none of what Caractacus Burke was searching for. Still, it gave ample enough time for her to forget about him. He needed to be out of her mind before he carried out his plan.

He sat at a café outside her store one evening, waiting to see her go home again. Not able to stand another cup of coffee, hot and bitter, he decided to try something he’d seen so many other locals eating. It was called ‘gelato’. A frozen treat, it looked like clotted cream and was eaten with a little spoon. Tom regretted ordering it the moment it arrived, but with each bite, he became a little fonder of it. It was cold and vaguely sweet with a drizzling of cherry jam on top. He reached the bottom of the cup before he even realised, and licked the spoon clean afterwards.

She stepped out later this time, at around six o’clock. Tom got up not long after but he didn’t follow her. His gaze trailed after her from behind a pair of aviator shades — her white shirt fluttering with each step, hair soft upon her shoulders — and let himself enjoy the view until she disappeared beyond the curve of a building that bent like a wave. Then he turned the other way, the way she came from.

The lamp lights were just coming on, bathing the marble a sulphuric yellow. He took his sunglasses off and tucked them in his shirt as he slid through the narrow street the shop was on. There was nobody around, but he could hear the echoes of other people through the walls of the nearby buildings. The area was a mix of domestic and commercial, small old flats and little shops which made it quite unpredictable. It was a very intimate setting, and dangerous for that very reason — few escape routes should anyone appear.

He peered through the glass first at the organised chaos inside, the clutter and piles of precious old things that lifetimes would not suffice to explore. Between them, Tom saw his reflection staring back. He aimed his wand at each lock and muttered an Alohomora. The spell let him in like butter.

The shop was just faintly lit from beyond the large display windows, rendering every book and smooth wood surface into a little sunburst. The air was light with dust, and dry, and cold in the way libraries often were. The pillars that held the ceiling high were cinder-black, and carved so finely that the wood seemed lace and pillow soft. A sweet scent lingered in the cavernous construction. It really was a marvellous atmosphere… Tom wouldn’t have minded staying if circumstances were different. His grandfather’s ring trilled around his finger.

Regardless of how old the building was, the interior was certainly built to order. It had a hint of the Victorian with a Renaissance flair. Tom had been in enough rich people’s houses to tell. It amused him how much they were all alike in taste, as if they were part of the same secret breed.

He stepped further in. The floorboards creaked and, looking down, a small amount of dust flew up. Curious. Perhaps it really didn’t get that many customers so often. The other shops he had visited this week all seemed to have at least another two clients while he was there… Strange, as this shop was bursting with books, and in an accessible location too. Tom could only guess that either they were prohibitively selective with their clientele, or the place had a bad reputation.

He found her ledgers tucked underneath the desk. They were split into three themes: Letteratura, Religione, and Esoterismo. He opened the latter.

It was detailed, thick, and finely indexed with the most minuscule writing. Instead of listing their catalogue, it listed all the authors they seemed to have an interest in, whether or not they held any of their books. Prices were next to certain volumes, along with purchasing dates. Others were annotated with the shop or collector that held them. From Agrippa to Cheiro to Crowley, from Novalis to Paracelsus, Roerich, and Sepharial, they had their eye on everyone. He turned toward the end, pale finger brushing through the T’s.

They had nothing by Tamisso, another author on his list, although they did have a copy of The Lost Word by Trevisan — a more recent edition than the 1870 one that Mr. Burke wanted, but still serviceable. But what he was really looking for was Torchia.

And he found him. A whole half-page was dedicated to him, even if the books were few and three-quarters of the space was empty. They must’ve expected to find more of his works in the future.

But as he was reading, the ring started feeling heavier, like its black stone wanted to pull loose. Oftentimes, the splinter of his soul that was trapped inside was a bit of a canary in a coal mine, more sensitive to changes in Tom’s surroundings than he was… He gazed suspiciously toward the ring and put the ledger down.

Tom looked up at the ceiling. It was tall and too dark to see, absorbing the most highly placed volumes like a black hole, like a void. Looking down, between the floorboards, the same infinite darkness. It occurred to him that perhaps the place was cursed. An unlikely idea given that it was a building belonging to muggles, but he’d seen stranger things. And after all, he still didn’t know who the owner was.

He looked at the catalogue again.

Torchia, A.

Key to Captive Thoughts, 1653 — four three copies

A Curious Explanation of Mysteries and Hieroglyphs, 1655 — one copy sold to H. Àristos, 1949

The Three Books of the Art, 1658 — one copy, private ownership → Luce

He scanned further down the line, and there it was: Delomelanicon.

It wasn’t written up like the others. It had no number, no mention of its year of publication, nor even where it was. All it had was a strange symbol next to it, like a plus sign with a downward arrow. Tom couldn’t guess what it meant.

But they had it, they must have. He closed the book with satisfaction and an overflow of greed, and carefully put it back in its place.

II

With the bookshop all to himself, Tom explored at his leisure. He stepped lightly, almost reverently, through its misty dusty rooms veiled by growing darkness. He cast Lumos when entering the second room, which had no windows to the outside world. A thick red carpet muffled his steps.

His first stop was at the section where she had searched for Helena Blavatsky, assuming the shelves followed the logic of the ledgers and were organised thematically as well as alphabetically. He pulled the ladder over and started to climb, holding the wand between the tips of his fingers.

Names spread before him, ancient and powerful. Some of them were only mentioned in the most proscribed of texts, others he hadn’t even heard of. It was one thing to see them listed so economically, and another to see their naked spines, crack them open, part them, and touch their wavy pages.

He had to pause once he came across a 17th-century copy of the Cyranides. How many men died for merely reading this book… What horror, what beauty. He turned to the page on the use of bezoars and smiled. The illustration braided around the page was of a watersnake, unmoving, done with an almost childish hand. It was from a more innocent time when such magical knowledge was a thing of fear and wonder, exclusive and yet renown, whispered about, admired. Not hidden away.

Holding the wand between his teeth, Tom pulled the ladder and himself a bit further to the right. Its wheels were loud enough to make him wince.

He found a wealth of books in this place that made him feel things he had not felt in a while: greed, desire, admiration… He hadn’t seen so many wonderful tomes since Hogwarts. For long moments in large swaths, he forgot his mission. Eagerly, his hands picked up any volumes he could reach without the ladder tipping over, and he sipped in eager drops the ancient wisdom, a few pages at a time, admiring the crude but honest illustrations before, with a heavy heart, putting them back on the shelf.

Finally, he reached Torchia. A few of his works were there, the same ones mentioned in the ledger, but not the Delomelanicon. Tom brushed his finger on the shelf, and it came up with a fluff of dust. Hadn’t been touched for a long time…

It occurred to him as he climbed down the ladder that they could have had hidden compartments, as such bookstores sometimes did. Borgin and Burkes did too, although theirs was hidden by magic. Muggles would have had some contraption hidden behind a painting or shelf. He cast another glance around him before moving forward again, step by heavy step. Between those dormant shelves, he saw another surreptitious doorway toward another room.

III

The place grew labyrinthian. Tom felt as though he was disturbing a tomb, and without even needing to his steps grew gentler. The ring around his finger ached again, but he ignored it.

He was exploring a glass case with a pyramid of skulls in the corner of a room three doorways from the entrance, further in the building and blissfully chill on the exposed skin of his arms and neck, when suddenly he noticed something about the creaking of the floorboards: he couldn’t hear it anymore.

Tom looked down, his shoes soft on the carpet, and shifted his weight. No sound, but there was a bit of a tilt beneath him as the wood moved. He moved to the side and toed the carpet away. At first glance, he noticed nothing strange, but when he cast Revelio, a piece of metal shone and the edges of a trapdoor revealed themselves before him.

“I’ve got you now,” he grinned.

He stepped away, grabbed the edges of the carpet, and folded it further back. It was a trapdoor alright, large enough for two people to fit through. The area was clean, as if it saw regular use. Could it be a secret way into and out of the shop? Well, he’d seen her always use the front door, so it was most likely a storage area.

He dug into his trouser pocket for something, anything that he could use, and found the Swiss army knife he’d gotten from Clement. The thought occurred to him that it was a misuse of a gift to rob a bookshop with it, but that thought died quickly in Tom’s heated mind. He had a job to do.

He slid its blade between the folds of wood and pressed the handle down. Marvolo’s ring squeezed and pulled at his finger, and Tom cursed at it to be quiet. The trapdoor undulated at the strain as he moved the blade around, but the thing was as good as nailed down on all sides.

“Come on, you piece of muggle trash, open,” he hissed between clenched teeth.

He pushed, edging the wood upwards, and the bit of leverage made it flap as far as its hinges would allow. Holding the wand between his teeth for light, he moved it slightly, checking in every direction for a keyhole. The only thing he found was a burn mark that shone in the faint light, small and round and crested. It was probably a hidden button or a kind of keyhole, the kind of which he’d seen before in a couple of places both at Hogwarts and elsewhere. Tom grinned, moved the blade there, and pressed harder right beneath it.

“Aaaah!” he groaned, nearly dropping the wand from his teeth.

The ring was shooting pain all the way up his arm now, and his muscles strained. He clenched his teeth and pressed the blade in further, deeper, but the longer he tried to get it open, the more useless the attempt seemed, and he was overcome with a feeling of wrongness — as if he actually cared that he was trespassing.

He got up, sighed, and wiped the sweat off his brow. The feeling of guilt that had been bubbling in his stomach crested and crawled up his bones until he felt the sickness in his throat. He was overcome with the desire to leave and put this place behind him. A traitorous thought…

No, he wasn’t feeling sick. That nasty little door was enchanted. There was probably a curse on it, not too dissimilar to those placed on Egyptian tombs, meant to ward prospective thieves away. The emotions that swirled in his breast, the guilt, the shame, none of it came from him. It was something he was forced to feel by whatever enchantment guarded the place. What an insidious little spell… He frowned and pointed his wand down at the trapdoor again.

“Finite incantatem.”

Nothing happened.

“Finite incantatem!” he said again, more clearly and imperious.

The trapdoor mocked him with its silence. Tom looked down at his wand as if it were impotent.

“Of all the damned… Revelio,” he cast again, but nothing new appeared. “Alohomora!”

And that was when it struck him.

The spell worked, but just for an instant before it was undone and something fired back at him. A shard of death crawled up his spine and pooled inside his heart, pushing him backwards into the sharp edge of a table. The lamps on it rattled from the impact.

He felt dizzy for a moment, his body numb and cold, then nauseous when his senses came back to him at once. Pain billowed at his lower back so hard it filled his throat with bile. He clung to the edge of the table and kept himself just barely standing, managing the breath to groan.

“By Salazar’s f-fucking… Ow!”

Among all the sudden pain, he noticed that his arm was numb. The ring had stopped hurting him. It got its point across… The door was cursed, and so severely that, if not for his Horcrux, he surely would have died.

Tom clenched his teeth and hissed at the bothersome little entrance, cursing it in parseltongue. He kicked the carpet back over it and rubbed his aching hip where he already felt a bruise forming. There was nothing else he could do there, at least not tonight. He’d have to go back to his hotel, hopefully not limping all the way, and plan his next steps.

“I’ll get you yet,” he muttered with a parting glare. “And whatever mongrel of a mage made you.”