#wow no need to punch me in the face this late
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bamber344 · 2 days ago
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WoW's Valentine's Gift Exchange
Happy valentines day everyone! This year I'm celebrating by participating in @whumperofworlds valentines gift exchange, on the Whump World discord server! (y'all should join, it's great)
I was assigned @lovelizards as my giftee, and for her gift I wrote a lil bad ending AU for her Waiting For You series, which you can read for yourself on her masterlist here. (it's the first story, I recommend it, it's fantastic!)
(gonna just tag all of my usual readers, in case any of y'all are interested! fic is below the cut)
CWs: mind control, broken bones, betrayal, beatings, captivity, general no-hope vibes
(AU in which Iska and Meres do not kill the slender man before escaping, just knocking him out instead. This will prove to be a very big mistake. Also perhaps taking some creative liberties with the magic system but shhhhhh)
Iska and Meres trudged barefoot along the dirt path leading away from the slender man’s manor, feet stinging and legs aching. Despite their fatigue from hours of walking, they didn’t stop for even a moment. Iska wasn’t sure that the man really died when she hit him with that bottle, and she sure wasn’t going to risk taking it slow in case he sent soldiers after them. If only she stayed back for a few minutes to make sure…
But it was too late now. They had to press on.
“Ngh…”
Iska frowned, looking back over her shoulder at her companion. “Meres? Are you alright?”
Meres had stopped moving. He was clutching at his head like it might blow apart if he let go, fingers buried in his pale hair, eyes squeezed shut. “N-no… I won’t…”
Iska ran up to him, putting a hand on his cheek. His skin was clammy, and blood was starting to seep from his nose. “Meres, what’s wrong?!”
He jerked, back arching, before letting out an ear-piercing howl of a scream up towards the sky, so loud it vibrated through Iska’s very bones. Meres fell to his knees, leaning forward and slamming his head into the dirt.
“NO! N-NO! PLEASE!”
Iska’s hands shook. Her stomach dropped. There was only one explanation for this.
The enchantment magic; it still had a hold. The slender man was still alive, and he wanted his property back.
She rushed to Meres’ side, holding him. “Fight it, Meres! You already did it once! You don’t belong to him, or to anyone! Don’t let him take you again!”
Meres twitched, his body convulsing as the fight for control overloaded his nerves. Iska wasn’t sure how long he could keep this up. She couldn’t do this without him. She… She needed him.
All of a sudden, it all stopped. The twitching, the pained grunting, the whines; all replaced by the rise and fall of heavy breaths. It was over.
But… who won?
“I… I’m so sorry, Iska. I’m too weak.”
Iska froze.
No…
Meres lifted his head. Iska looked into his eyes, welling up with tears.
The slender man won.
His hand darted out before she could even consider running, wrapping around her wrist in a vice grip.
“No!” she shouted, thrashing futilely against him, trying to wrench his fingers off. “Meres, stop! Y-you’re hurting me!”
Iska kicked and punched and bit and scratched, fighting like a wild animal, but nothing could get Meres to ease his bruising hold on her. Tears and blood trailed down his face, dripping onto her as he pulled her closer, and for a moment she paused, realising just how much pain he must have been in. Was she really just going to abandon him to it?
Did she have another choice?
All of a sudden, Meres threw her, pulling her suddenly enough that she tripped up and landed face-first in the dirt. Hope lit up in her chest. Had he broken free again?
That hope was quickly shattered as Meres stomped on her knee with all his weight. Iska screamed, pain radiating up her leg as he twisted his foot, grinding her kneecap into the rough ground. She heard more than saw him kneel down, and felt his foot move a little lower down her leg, to her upper calf. Two massive hands closed around her ankle and Meres started wrenching upwards. Iska shrieked.
“MERES! MERES, STOP! STOP, IT HURTS!”
Her shin felt like it was about to split in two. The creaking of her bone reverberated all the way up her leg. She grabbed a fistful of dirt and squeezed her eyes shut, realising there was no escaping the oncoming pain.
Snap!
Pain didn’t even begin to describe it. The agony was overwhelming. Darkness flickered across Iska’s vision as a high-pitched scream rang through her ears. She sobbed, hiding her face against the dirt as Meres let her go; the man in his head surely knowing there was no way she could flee anymore.
“C-come on, Iska… We have to go home now.” 
His voice was shaky and mournful. A mixture of grief and rage swirled in Iska’s belly. Why couldn’t he be strong enough?! Now neither of them had any chance of escape. She was going to spend the rest of her life in the slender man’s basement, slowly losing herself until she became nothing more than another puppet for him to order around. There was no fight left in her. She was done.
Meres scooped her up off the ground and bundled her against his chest. She cried out as her injured leg was aggravated and put up a token struggle, but there was no point.
It was over.
Iska groaned, spitting loose teeth and blood out of her mouth and onto the cold floor of the slender man’s dungeon. Her arms were chained to a post behind her; the metal of the shackles biting into her wrists. Meres was there. Somewhere. Iska wasn’t too compelled to search for him, knowing that opening her eyes meant accepting the reality that she was right back where she started. He was probably listlessly staring at the floor, too cowardly to look at her and witness the consequences of his actions made manifest.
At least the beating she was receiving distracted from the pain of her broken leg. If one could call that a consolation.
“Oh, those were your teeth, weren’t they?” the slender man’s slimy voice echoed through the space and into her head.
A cold hand closed around her chin and tugged her head up. Iska cracked her bruise-swollen eyelids open to look the man in the eye. His forehead was covered in stitches from the bottle she’d smashed across his face, and there was a distinct cloudy quality to his eyes – no doubt from a concussion. Clearly, it hadn’t hampered him enough to dull the force of his strikes.
His thumb traced along her jawline, a soft and gentle juxtaposition to the pain he’d been inflicting upon her. “Poor, poor Iska. Your beautiful smile is all broken now.” He hummed, squeezing her cheeks and putting pressure on her ruined gums. She cried out, tears burning down her face. “It’s no less than you deserve, for what you did to me, but it’s far from the last punishment you’ll receive. You will understand that there is no escape from your life’s purpose. You will understand that you are worth nothing, and your only solace will be knowing that your place is to be owned by me. Get used to it.”
“F-fuck you!” she rasped.
He let go of her face and stepped back, only to send a lashing kick straight at her nose. Her head snapped backwards as pain blossomed through her sinuses, filling her eyes with blinding tears. All she could do was sink to the ground and do her best to remember to breathe through her mouth as blood spilled from her nostrils.
“We’ll see how that attitude holds after a week in the experimentation room. Meres, come. It’s your turn.”
With that, he turned and strolled out of the room, Meres following at his heel like the dog he was.
It was all his fault. It was his weakness that trapped them here again. Iska would have to go back to that horrible room again, and it was all because of him.
No…
It was her own damn fault. Her impatience. Her need to flee. If only she’d made sure the man was dead.
As the sound of Meres’ screams began to echo throughout the dungeon, Iska closed her eyes and cried.
Iska was sleeping. That, or she’d succumbed to her injuries on the cold, hard floor. Meres couldn’t decide which one was worse. At least if she passed, she wouldn’t have to still be here, suffering because of him.
He winced at a particularly scathing throb of one of the lacerations on his back; the slender man’s brutal handiwork. Just another reminder of his own weakness, and what he’d subjected both himself and Iska to for the foreseeable future. Iska would be going into the experimentation room again tomorrow. Would there be another chance now? Would he be able to break free again, before it was too late and Iska lost herself too? It was hard to know.
He slowly stumbled over to her limp form, kneeling down and brushing some hair out of her bruised face.
“I… I- I’m so, so sorry, Iska. I failed you.”
Her eyes cracked open, staring up at him glassily. She reached out, weakly wrapping her delicate fingers around his thumb. 
“M- Meres… p-please, stay.”
Her eyes rolled back, and she passed out again.
Meres grit his teeth, holding back tears. “Don’t worry, Iska. I won’t leave you.”
He settled down on the ground next to her, still keeping hold of her hand.
“No matter what, I’ll stay with you.”
Taglist: @steelandblood @sapphicwhump @urnumber1star @alsolucakairomi @thataquaticwhumper
@iamheretohurt @anoyedartist @dontyoubleedoutonme @seastarblue @lettherebepain
@bacillusinfection
Hope y'all enjoyed!
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cxndiedvi0lets · 6 months ago
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"You can't help everyone,"
But, I have to try.
"Then, who helps you?"
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harrysfolklore · 2 months ago
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harry and yn styles read thirst tweets
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omg she posted a harry fic! honestly i've been missing him sooo much lately, harry please come home. anyway hope you like this
MASTERLIST | MY PATREON
"Hey It's YN Styles."
"And I'm Harry Styles."
"And we're here to read your thirst tweets," you introduced, "I feel excited."
"I feel uncomfortable," Harry joked, making you throw your head back in laughter.
"Really? Already?"
"I'm just saying, if i I don't turn beat read by the end of this, we have failed."
THIRST TWEETS WITH HARRY AND YN STYLES
"What about I read the ones that are directed at you and you read the ones directed at me?" Harry asked, phone with the tweets ready in hand.
"Sounds perfect, babe."
"Okay, let's read thirst tweets strangers post about my wife," his eyes widened and he shook his head, "Thinking about YN's boobs again," he read, turning his gaze to you and shrugging "I relate, I guess."
"That's the whole tweet? Thinking about my boobs again?" he nodded, "I mean, I hope that doesn't distract you from your daily chores," you said to the camera as if you were talking to the person who posted the tweet.
"Yeah, that happens to me often."
"Thanks honey, I guess," you turned to look at the phone to read Harry's tweet, "Harry Styles can I kiss your cheek please it looks so soft and smoochable," you looked up with a frown in your brow, "So all of my tweets are going to be horny and his are going to be adorable."
Harry and the crew laughed as you shook your head, "I mean, love, my cheek is actually soft and smoochable," Harry said as he shrugged.
"Not right now tho, you need to shave," you said, running your finger through his cheek.
"My own wife doesn't like my facial hair, that's such a shame," he looked at his phone again, "YN, sexy and married to Harry Styles, she's literally winning and all I can do is watch and wish that was me. Whoa, thoughts baby?"
"I mean, I am really lucky," Harry smiled fondly, "Do your daily affirmations, friends, that's how I got this one," the crew laughed at this, "I would pay Harry Styles to punch me in the face," you read the next tweets and his eyes widened.
"Why do people say that? I would never punch anyone in the face, why would I do that?"
"It's an expression babe, it means that they think you're hot," you explained.
"Well, there are non violent ways to say that," he said, "Listen I am bisexual for a reason and that reason is strictly to be used in a threesome by YN and Harry Styles," he read and you instantly covered your face in embarrassment, "I mean, whoa, the things you kids post on the internet."
"I don't know what to say, honestly," you shook your head, looking down at your phone to cover your embarrassment, "Thinking about Harry Styles naked butt again," you read the tweet and Harry laughed, "How does that make you feel? That people can think about your naked butt thanks to My Policeman."
"I have a nice but, I'd like to think," he shrugged, "YN is a living, breathing wet dream," he read on his phone, "I mean, I concur, I have a song about it, It's called Watermelon Sugar."
"Oh thanks honey, glad to know romance isn't dead, and speaking about Watermelon Sugar," you glanced at your phone, "This one says, I want Harry Styles belly deep inside me or whatever he says in that watermelon song."
"Jesus Christ," Harry immediately said, "Not quite what that song says, but close I guess," he looked at another tweet, "I would let YN choke me with her thighs."
"That's nice considering most people want you to choke them with your thighs."
"How do you even know that?" Harry asked as he furrowed his brow.
"I lurk on twitter sometimes," you shrugged, "Are Harry and YN looking for a third right now? Cause I get horny by just looking at them."
"Our marriage is fine like this, but if we ever need a third we'll let you know," Harry spoke to the camera, "Okay last one, are yo ready?"
"Definitely not."
"I need YN to rail me more than I need air to breathe."
"Wow," you clasped your hands together, "I don't know if I should be flattered or worried."
"Flattered, love, we all want you to rail us."
"Harry! Control it!" you laughed and he shrugged, "Are we done?"
"We are," Harry turned to the camera, "Thank you buzzfeed and you thirsty fuckers, that was fun but we're never doing it again."
"Definitely, bye!"
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inkdrinkerworld · 6 months ago
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“No more coffee, dove.” Remus takes the cup away from you and takes the mocha pot off the stove.
“But Remmy,” you whine and your boyfriend just levels you a look.
He pouts at you, all mocking and teasing which makes you want to stomp your foot. “No ‘But Remmy,’ you’ve had three. You’re cut off, my love.”
You can’t even be mad at him when he calls you nice things and gives you a kiss for your troubles.
Still you try. Then keys jingle in the door and your ability to get your way seems sparked up again, even if by a soft flame.
“Hi my darlings, I’m home.”
You give Remus a look that lets him know what you’re about to do and he resigns himself with watching you bewitch James like that’s your actual job.
“Hi Jamie! How was the gym?” Remus leans on the kitchen counter and watches you fawn over James to set you plan in motion.
“Good lovie. How was work? Were you trouble for our Remmy?”
You shake your head and Remus scoffs. James looks at him over your head and Remus only gives him a wink.
“I was super good! Was it arm day today?” Your hands slide up to his shoulders and then down to his wrists.
James chuckles, dimples popping out at he flexes. Your hands squeeze at his arms as he flexes and when James leans down for a kiss you really put the moves on him.
Your hands bury themselves in his still wet curls, tugging a little as you let James kiss into your mouth.
When you pull away, “Can you make me a fancy coffee, please baby?”
Remus rolls his eyes, “I just told you no, dove. You’ve had three.”
James looks down at you, a little smile on his face. “That true, angel?”
You scowl, “I really feel like I need a caffeine kick to get through the rest of my work. It won’t take long to wear off, either James. Swears.”
James doesn’t believe that part. The sun’s setting now and you really shouldn’t be having another cup of coffee.
He and Remus have spent many a night up with you while you all wait for the remnants of the caffeine leave you - not that they mind for themselves, they just don’t like you unable to sleep when it’s three in the morning and you’ve got to wake up at six.
You pout at him, holding onto his forearms as you stare at him with your best puppy dog eyes.
“Okay, let me go take a shower and I’ll fix you up one.”
You turn to Remus and stick your tongue out at him when James swats at your bum quickly making you hiss. “Oi!”
Remus only shakes his head as James passes you by to kiss Remus. “Jamie she really shouldn’t-“ James gives Remus another kiss, placating him completely.
For all his cheekiness, James had a subtle way of putting Remus at complete ease with just a kiss. “Be back in ten my loves.”
“You’re a brat.” Remus says playfully as James bounds the stairs and you give him a smug shrug as you sit at the table and start typing away at your work.
James comes back down and heads to the kitchen and starts making your drink. You hear all the wizzing and wowing of his fancy coffee routine and when he brings you a mug you look pleased as punch.
You take a sip and frown, looking up at James with betrayal all over your face.
“Decaf, Jamie?” It’s Remus’ turn to be smug, you dislike it on him entirely.
“Yes lovie. It’s too late for full caffeine and you’ll have been bouncing off the walls if I’d made one for you and wouldn’t have slept tonight.”
You just stare at him, James walks over to the table and kisses you. He can’t stand your pouty face. “I’ll make you a real fancy one in the morning before I head to practice, yeah?”
He pecks your lips when you don’t answer, and again when you hardly kiss back. James keeps at it until you giggle which is only three more kisses. He savors the kisses and your giggle.
“Yeah, Jamie.”
Remus comes to the table to meet you two, “What about my kisses?”
You pretend to think about it before kissing Remus lips, pecks following a sloppy trail all over his cheeks making him blush.
“Love you, Remmy.”
He smiles, turning your face so he can kiss your lips again. “I love you too, dove.”
James pouts, both you and Remus kiss his cheek before he can even ask.
“We love you Jamie. Loads and loads.”
He smiles, a megawatt spotlight really, and kisses you both back.
“What are you thinking of for tea? A chippy?” James asks, hand in Remus’ hair and on your cheek as you look down to your laptop and save your work.
There’s no point in trying to do any of it now that you’re all home. “Yeah, can I have cod this time? Didn’t fancy the haddock last time.”
Remus nods, “Anything you want, lovely girl.” James is already on the phone placing everyone’s orders, not forgetting everyone’s add-ons.
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uzurakis · 8 months ago
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hi :D can you do jjk boys doing like a tiktok prank and telling reader to shut up but they've a really bad day and either get mad/really sad? angst with or w/o comfort plz
CAN YOU SHUT UP FOR A SEC?!
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featuring: gojo satoru. fushiguro megumi. itadori yuuji. geto suguru.
n. some comfort and some w/o comfort lol. thanks for the req babes, not breaking my angst writing stride. if you could understand why i wrote gojo like that, then you paid attention to s2. enjoy </3
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GOJO SATORU. you dropped your bag by the door and took a deep breath, hoping to find some comfort in his presence; finding your boyfriend lounging on the couch, his eyes glued to the tv screen.
“satoru,” you said, voice tinged with fatigue. “i had a really bad day today. the higher ups are a fucking pain—“
“shut up, babe, i’m watching tv. see?” without looking away from the tv, gojo cut off your words.
you froze, the sting of his words hitting you harder than you expected. you stared at him in disbelief, feeling a mix of hurt and anger rising within you. “wow. thanks for that. really needed it today,” you said laced with passive aggression.
gojo finally turned his head to look at you, but it was too late. you could feel the tears welling up in your eyes, and you didn’t want him to see you cry. you pivoted and exited the living room, displacing him in the process.
as you retreated to the bedroom, you could hear the faint sound of the tv continuing in the background. the reality of the situation settled in, and you felt the tears spill over, silently streaming down your face. you sank onto the bed, burying your face in your hands.
moments later, the sound of the tv stopped, and you heard footsteps approaching the bedroom door. it opened slowly, and gojo stepped inside, looking all confused and a tad concerned. “babe,” he said softly, “seriously, what’s going on?”
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FUSHIGURO MEGUMI. “can’t you see i’m busy? can you shut up for a sec?”
you froze, his words hitting you like a punch to the gut. your shoulders slumped further, and you felt a knot form in your stomach. “i don’t need this today. just leave me alone,” you muttered, turning on your heel and heading towards the door.
megumi’s head snapped up as he realized something was wrong. “wait, hold on,” he called out, but you didn’t stop. “hey, i was just joking. come on, talk to me.”
your pace quickened as you left the dorm room, but you remained silent. you needed to leave before you totally lost it because you could feel the tears starting to burn in your eyes. megumi's voice could be heard calling after you as you went down the corridor; growing more concerned with each attempt.
“please, wait!” he shouted, tone now filled with worry. “fuck, i didn’t mean it like that! it’s a tiktok prank, babe!”
you kept moving, the door closing behind you as you stepped outside into the crisp evening air. you leaned against the wall, taking deep breaths to calm yourself. the last thing you needed was more pain on top of an already unbearable day.
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ITADORI YUUJI. anger flared within you and your eyes widened. “why would you say that to me? what’s wrong with you?” you snapped, voice sharp as a knife.
yuuji’s gaze moved to look at you, and he immediately saw the pain in your eyes. his expression shifted from surprise to regret. “wait, wait, baby, i’m so sorry! it’s just a tiktok prank. i swear i didn’t mean it like that. please, forgive me.”
“a tiktok prank? do you think this is funny?”
he scrambled off the couch and came over to you, face earnest and pleading. “no, no, it’s not funny. i thought it would be harmless, but i can see now that it wasn’t the right time. i’m really sorry…”
“forgive me, please?”
you took a deep breath, trying to calm down. the sincerity in his voice and the worry in his eyes made it hard to stay mad at him. “yuuji, i’ve had a really bad day. the last thing i needed was for you to tell me to shut up.”
your boyfriend nodded vigorously, looking like a guilty puppy. “i know. i messed up big time. can we start over? we’ll order your favorite takeout and watch a movie? my treat!”
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GETO SUGURU. your frustration, already simmering beneath the surface, boiled over. “excuse me? you don’t get to talk to me like that, geto suguru. especially not today!”
“whoa, hey, calm down. it was just a tiktok prank. i didn’t mean it seriously.”
“and you think that’s funny?”
the guy stood up, hands raised in a placating gesture, trying to approach you cautiously. “okay, okay, i get it. not funny. i’m sorry. how about we forget about it and i make it up to you?”
you could see the genuine concern in his eyes, but you weren’t ready to let it go just yet. “you really don’t understand how bad my day has been, do you? and you choose today to pull something like this?”
suguru sighed, taking a step closer to you. “i do understand. i’m sorry i made it worse. i was just trying to be playful. let me make it up to you.” he dropped his voice to a softer, flirtatious tone, a small smirk tugging at his lips. “you know i can’t stand it when you’re upset with me.”
“you damn flirt,” you huffed, trying to maintain your anger, but the familiar charm in his voice made it difficult. “you can’t just flirt your way out of everything, geto suguru. i’m still mad.”
he stepped closer, gently taking your hands in his. “maybe not, but i can try. let me make it up to you tonight. we can do whatever you want. i’ll be on my best behavior, promise.”
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@uzurakis
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loveandleases · 25 days ago
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ROs reaction to MC dressing slutty for the first time? Doesn't matter if they're going out or just in the privacy of their room 👀😚
I only have two done so far, for some reason my mind really ran with it. (I'll finish the others eventually, but Cam/Ardents are down below)
❤️ Cam - Oh you know he's down bad. (When isn't he?)
"Wow," he says, his eyes so large as he takes you in. He should be wondering why the change, not that he cares, but his curiosity can get the better of him. But Cam's brain, for the most part, is playing catch-up. Like a video stuck on buffering.
He flicks his tongue across his lips, the glint of his piercing catching in the light, and shakes his head. "I don't know what I did to deserve this."
What you think he means to say as a compliment - is actually Cam cursing his luck.
"Are you going somewhere?" he asks as his hands brush over the clutter of your dresser.
"Not tonight. I just wanted to have something to wear for when I go out with Kara and Isaac."
He doesn't say much, but a brief nod is enough to let you know he heard. His lips jutted out into a pout. "Wow, didn't even offer to take me. I feel replaced." You know he's joking, but the slightest crease between his brow almost says otherwise.
"Come on, Cam. You're stuck with me, the faster you accept it the better." You tease, but he doesn't smile. Instead, he walks closer, his hand brushing along your shoulder. His fingers linger for a moment, brushing against your skin as if it's accidental - just enough to make you feel the heat in his touch.
You think it's just a speck of fuzz he's brushing off, but you're wrong. He wants to touch you - just for a moment.
"I wouldn't have it any other way, Red. I've always been yours-" Cam's eyes widen comically large, and his voice trails off. You gasp, your eyes going wide in disbelief. Did he just -?
"Cam!" you exclaim, your heart skipping a beat.
"Uh -" He stumbles over his words, clearly realizing what just slipped out. "I've always been yours to fuck -"
Another loud gasp falls from your lips, eyes wide. Cam panics, his face turning bright red as he tries to save himself. "To fuck with! You know, tease… annoy the hell out of!"
He punches you lightly on the shoulder in his awkwardness - but a bit too hard. "Ow!" you cry out, wincing from the force.
Cam's face flushes even more with embarrassment as he stumbles back. "Shit, sorry," he mutters immediately trying to shift the energy, clearly wishing the ground would swallow him whole.
You blink, your jaw-dropping as the realization hits. "Oh, that’s what you meant," you say, half amused, half incredulous. A small, tiny part of you, one you’re going to ignore for now, feels a little disappointed.
Cam quickly turns toward the door, eager to escape the awkwardness of the situation. Before he leaves, he pauses and glances back at you, his gaze lingering on you for a beat longer than it should.
"Hey, you look hot as hell, by the way. Better take me with you when you wear that."
"Why? Gonna be lonely by yourself?"
Cam shrugs, his voice trailing off as he mutters under his breath, his lips slightly pursed, biting back the awkwardness. "Yeah… and so I can kick the first person's ass who tries to lay a finger on you."
🖤 Ardent - You could feel Ardent's eyes on you before you even turned around. And once you did, you weren't disappointed. You don't always get to see a flush of color in his face - it's fleeting, but damn, does it look good.
He was drinking you in, watching as you finished prepping yourself in the mirror. It was a sight to see, he always said so. Even when you two weren't getting along. Ardent never held back how attractive he thought you were.
"Watch yourself, old man. I would hate for you to get too heated and end up spending the night home alone," you tease, cocking your head with a smug grin, watching as he rolls his eyes.
"Stop pretending like you could even keep up. Or do I need to remind you -"
"Oh, would you look at that we're going to be late." you cut him off, not bothering to look at the clock, but enjoying how easy it is to get under his skin.
You tap a finger to the tip of his nose, letting him think he has the upper hand for just a moment. But before he can pull you closer, you step away with a playful smile. His game of cat and mouse has only just begun, and you're not ready to let him win.
As soon as you walk into the restaurant, the eyes aren't just on you - they're on both of you. And knowing Ardent he's always shooting daggers with his eyes at the attention. He admires the way you look, but you know that jealousy starts to rise in him. One patron is so taken with your outfit that they gawk at you the entire time you're ordering. Ardent leans in close, blocking their view with his body.
"Can you fucking not?" he hisses, his fingers intertwining with yours, a warning glare directed at the stranger.
Ardent's tense, his body like a coiled spring and ready to snap. A combination of you looking too good, and the eyes staring at him. "Come with me," he says, voice rough as he stands and offers you a hand.
"Wh - where to?" You raise a brow, already mourning the food you'll not get to eat.
"Just follow me," he growls.
You smirk and fall into step behind him, not asking questions. He's not led you astray before, and you doubt he'll start now.
But maybe you should've been more cautious, at least you think, as he pulls you into the coat closet. Without warning, he presses you against the wall and slams his lips against yours, biting your lip in a way that drives you crazy.
"Here, really?" You gasp, as his fingers press into your sides, a comforting weight behind his grip.
"You know I'm yours, right?" Ardent mutters against your skin, his voice dark and gaze heated.
You blink, confused by the softer tone. "Yeah," you whisper, not because you're worried you'll get caught, but because of how his eyes are burning into you. Like you're the most important person in the world.
"And… " he trails off, raising his hand to rest against your neck as he brushes over the pulse there.
"What's the matter?" You taunt, your breath hitching slightly. "Cat got your tongue?"
Ardent's gaze flickers, then hardens, as his fingers tighten slightly on your neck, enough to make you shiver but not as rough as you like him to be. "You're mine," he growls.
Without warning, his other hand grabs your wrist, pinning your arm above your head. His chest pressing against yours. His lips trail down your neck, and he bites down, sucking hard. A groan rumbles from deep in his chest, making your pulse quicken in response.
"So," you tease, your voice breathless as you glance at him, a smirk tugging the corners of your lips. "You like my outfit, then?"
Ardent pulls away just long enough to look you in the eyes, those brown eyes filled with hunger. He grins, the scar on his lip somehow making him look more handsome. "Let's find out when it's on the ground."
💙 G -
💚 Kara -
💛 M -
💜 Isaac -
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igotanidea · 27 days ago
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Bound by business: Jason Todd x reader
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Summary: Jason x information dealer reader. He only came for the info, but one thing led to another, a bit of whiskey and some teasing and - .... And she's a self made gotham.boss bitch falling for no one...
Warnings: SMUT MDNI!, dirty talk, p in v, teasing, angst
A/N : Been a while since I wrote smut and a story this long. Let me down gently. XD
***
It was dark and the rain was heavy, doing nothing to hide Jason’s irritation as he speeded on his motorcycle to the bad side of Gotham if there was any good side of Gotham in the first place.
Once having reached his destination, he took his helmet off letting rain wet his ruffled hair and started banging on the door.
His contact in the criminal world had been hard lately and he had no idea why, but the reasons behind the sudden change in the attitude were far from his interest.
HE and Y/N had a long history, went way back to the times when he was Robin and she was a good girl, both memories seeming like a fucking grotesque now.
“Y/N! Open the fuck up!”
“The hell Jason?!”
The door opened but she made no move to invite him inside despite the downpour on the outside. Instead she settled on watching him shake the water off like a dog, deriving some sadistic pleasure from the fact he could barely see with his hair stuck to his forehead and falling into his eyes.  
“The gun shipment. Tonight. I need details. Time, place, figures involved.
“Well hello to you too, Jason. I’ve been fine thanks for asking.” She scoffed and then smirked.
“I don’t have time for this shit-“
“Right, right, of course. I probably should thank you for not putting a gun to my head right away, right?”
“That is to be rectified at any moment now.” He reached towards his holster.
“Don’t be stupid, Jason. You know you only get this far with things because of me. You don’t want to lose an ally, do you?”
“You’re just an information dealer. Plenty of those in Gotham.”
“Mhm. Sure. And how many of them are as skilled as I am?”
He scoffed, pushing right past her, casually shrugging off his jacket and tossing it on the couch.
“Yeah by all means, ruin my furniture. Drink?” she asked, heading towards the cabinet
“Whiskey. Neat.”
“Wow, someone finally developed some standards. What gives?”
Jason scoffed again.
“Standards, my ass. It’s at your expense so why would I hold back?”
“I might hold you accountable to that in the future. Cheers.”
“Cheers.”
The glasses clinked and for a moment they both sipped their drinks in silence which gave Jason a second to actually look at her. She was a badass, that was what he knew. But every time he came around to her place, which was not really happening that often, she was almost innocent. Ironically. No make up, comfy clothes, just hoodie and yoga pants. He had seen women try harder to look I-woke-up-like-this.
Y/N was just being comfortable. 
“What’s with the look Jace?” she smirked from under the rim of her glass, her eyes piercing into him.
“I’m just thinking.”
“About?”
“About why you are suddenly not giving me shit.”
“It’s been a long day if you must know. Long and hard day. My shit giving attitude and my humor might be a little off. ”
“Huh!” he huffed dismissively “hard day? You want to hear about a hard day? The one involving guns and fights? And being stabbed with a knife? Twice?“
“We all have our own definition of a hard day, you fool. You deal with bullets, I deal with people.”
“So you’re basically saying that people are worse than guns? Seriously? Damn, girl you got some audacity there.” He half-laughed, taking another sip of the whiskey and swirling the beverage “so, spill. Which one of your usual charming assholes got under your skin?”
“Luckily someone I do not have any respect for.”
“You have respect for no one, sunshine. But please, do tell. Did you kick him in the groin or punched him in the face?”
“Something like that.” She smirked, clearly so full of herself.
“Please tell me you at least broke his nose.”
“I did no permanent damage, that's all I can say.”
“Meaning you did something painful, but not crippling.” He nodded. He was actually learning to use the same method. Putting a gun to people's heads and shooting them dead was not very useful while searching for info. But then again, he had Y/N for that latter purpose. “Black eye? Twisted arm?”
“I thought you came here about the gun shipment info?” she finally sat on the couch and turned to face him with a hint of tease in her eyes.
“I did. But should it stop me from having a little polite conversation with my favorite partner in crime?” Jason leaned back on the coach with a sly smile
“Mh! I call bullshit.”
“How’s your hand doing?”
The question took her by surprise. Right, the hand, of course he knew about it. She got injured during one of her quests last week and has been dealing with the consequences ever since.
“I’m handling.”
“Uh!” Jason raised his hand stopping her in the middle of the sentence “Let me translate: it hurts like hell but you won’t admit it.” Y/N would never confront her pain – neither physical nor emotional. And yes, he was doing the same but it was easier to notice it in someone else than in himself. “So, given the state of that limb you must have got to that asshole pretty hard. Good job, I’ll give you that. It’s not every day I get to hear about your violent tendencies….” He chuckled and sipped the last of his drink, putting the glass back on the table, his eyes fixed on hers with a mischief in them.
“Oh you know damn well about my violent tendencies…”
“Damn right I do. And don’t I just love every fucking one of them…” his voice dropped an octave as he leaned forward, never dropping the gaze.  “Nothing sexier than a woman who can handle herself…”
“Oh yeah?” she allowed him the sudden closeness, clearly enjoying the blooming game “never took you for a guy who loved being manhandled..”
“Oh I am not. But I’m a sucker for watching someone deserving of it experiencing that treatment.” Jason's gaze moved down her body appreciatively, lingering on the swell of her breast under the hoodie and the curve of her hips accentuated by that stupid leggings. He knew she had curves under all those clothes. “It’s a fucking turn on.” He added in a husky tone. 
“Is it now…?” she hummed moving a little closer on the couch, her own drink landing on the table as well as she placed palms on his thighs, using it to lean even more forwards, leaving less than an inch between their faces.
“Fuck yeah it is…” his breath caught in his throat a little at the unexpected but not unwelcomed touch. “Seeing you lay someone down with those gorgeous hands of yours….” He licked his lips.
“Mhm… keep talking…” Y/N switched positions, now sitting on his lap, straddling him, her fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck and he instinctively grabbed onto her hips.  Gods, he was a man and suddenly realized how long it’s been since he had a one night stand, too busy with work.
But this?
This was getting dangerous and deep down he knew that once started, wouldn’t end up easily.
This was not going to be just scratching an itch like it usually was. This would hurt a lot and mixing business with pleasure was never a good idea.
But he couldn’t stop, the primal part of his brain already awakened by the closeness of her body, her almost gentle caresses and the soft, sweet yet seductive tone he had never heard before but she had mastered to perfection.
“I said…” she leaned to his ear “keep talking…”
“Fucks…” he groaned staring at her with undisguised lust “the though of you getting dirty… rough….”
“Uh-huh…” she hummed and started grinding on him. Slowly, almost torturously, causing Jason to take a sharp inhale of breath, but quickly composing himself.
“You always fight like that, princess?” his hands wandered from her hips to her ass, squeezing the ample flesh, pulling her closer to the bulge in his pants.
“Only for the special ones.”
 “Special ones, huh?” he held her hips tighter guiding her movements “Like when you want to prove a point? Or-“
“Or. Definitely or.”
She threw her head back, exposing her neck, giving him not-so-subtle hints.
“Or when you want to send a message?” he willingly moved his lips down her skin, sucking on the pulse points, earning a little, delicious moan and hand tangling in his hair. “A message that you’re taken?”
“Am I taken? Can’t remember…” she pulled back, taking off her hoodie and discarding her bra.
“Fuck yeah, you’re taken.” His lips moved lower, kissing her collarbone and cleavage.
“Good to know…” she made a quick movement to pull and toss his shirt somewhere in the room intensifying her movements on his ever growing tent “I think the gun shipment changed the location…”
“You fucking tease.” Jason hissed, changing the positions so she was trapped beneath his body. “Eight inches. Semi-automatic. Brand new and ready for action.”
“Well don’t I love being at a gunpoint…” her hand found a way to his groin, starting to palm the bulge, enjoying the way she seemed to still be in control, even with him on top.
“Oh yeah? A gun to your head?” he groaned, barely controlling himself.
“Maybe not to my head…”
Y/N wriggled on the bed, rolling on her belly for a moment to reach for the condom in the nightstand and that moment was enough for Jason to get hypnotized by that bounding piece of ass.
“I really hope the biggest size will fit you—”
“Fuck, I’ll stuff you so full you won’t walk for a week.”
He pushed her legs open with his knee, doing a quick job of rolling the latex on his length, teasing her clit with a few featherlight touches, loving how she seemed to beg for more with every squirm and entered her in one deep thrust.
“Big enough for you?” he bit her earlobe licking the shell right after, his voice low.  
“I – mmm… shit…”
“Have you ever had this big?” The thrusts were long and hard and deliciously painful at first before turning into a series of perfectly aimed and ideally paced movements that made her gasp from pleasure. “Answer the question, princess.”
“I – ah! Ah, shit!” nails of the right hand dug into the mattress hard enough to make holes, the other hand reaching for the pillow, quickly pressing it between her head and the headboard to prevent the potential concussion. He was not a semi-automatic gun machine. More like a rifle, never shooting blanks. Thank fucks, she was prepared in many ways and started taking pills a few weeks prior. Not that it was her plan or anything. 
“What was that?” he rocked faster and harder, pulling all the way back only to slam right back inside. “Too much for you, slut?”
“Make me come! Make me fucking come to give me incentive to answer that stupid question!”
“Seems to me like I’m fucking your brains out. Is that right, pretty? Am I fucking you stupid?”
“Fuck!”
“Yeah… you’re so fucked, baby.” He was now hitting her cervix with such a speed and strength as if his life was depending on it. “Fucked by no. One. Else. But. The. Red. Hood.“ Each word was punctuated by a deep movement and if someone asked she would swear it was reaching her stomach. Or maybe she just ate something bad.
“It’s an – ohhh! – oh shit!” she gasped, unable to finish the sentence for a moment. “It’s an honor for you to have me like this….” There was no way she was going to let him win and really fuck her stupid.
“Oh I know… But no one else is big and strong enough for you” he circled her clit, bending head to suck her nipple, leaving a wet trail from one breast to another “now, come for me… come baby…”
She bit her lips so hard that a blood appeared on the bottom one, quickly licking it off, turning Jason wild. He was a sucker for blood. Not only the shooting kind, clearly.
“Yeah…. Yeah…oh! Oh!”
She could feel his pace faltering a little as he was so close to his own climax.
And used it against him, hitting right into the momentum, somehow managing to end up on top of him again, hands on his chest, breasts bouncing, ass slapping on his cock as she rocked up and down, still in control.
“Fuck! Y/n!”
“Yeah, yeah that’s right, moan my name as you come Jason Todd. Red Hood. Whatever. Scream my name.”
“You- where did you learn how to take cock like that—”
“You wouldn’t like the answer. Now come on!” It was immensely hard to keep herself from diving into the sea of release but she knew how to get what she wanted. Years of effing experience in this fucked up place.  
His hands were on her ass, squeezing mercilessly, almost to the point of pain as he finally reached the stars.
Only then she allowed herself to let go as well. Winning, yet again, falling on top of him like a marathon runner who scored a gold medal even if there were truly no losers in this game of love. At least not in terms of the body.
“Damn… you’re heavy…” he hissed, wrapping arms around her, trapping her on top of him, nuzzling nose into her hair. She was right with him, next to him, so warm and soft and tender, making him feel so good, so nice, so liberated.
“Don’t act like you didn’t enjoy my fat ass bouncing on you.”
“Too tired to even try to pretend.” He whispered, trying to kiss her softly, but much to his surprise, she rolled off him, swiftly avoiding his grip, grabbed the hoodie from the floor and stood up fixing her hair, letting it fall down her back like a h/c waterfall.
“Well this was nice.” Her tone was flat, unamused and the warmth in his chest turned into icy cold right away.
“Wait… what? But-“
“I’m gonna go piss now. Can’t risk any STIs. Those hurt like hell, not to mention it’s kind of embarrassing explaining to my Ob-gyn why I wasn’t careful again. I swear one more time and she’ll drop me as a patient.”
Was this a joke to her!?
“But-“ he stuttered looking at her with wide eyes. This was not what he expected at all and there were like a million questions in his head.  “Y/n-“
“I’ll be right back, but hey – hygiene right? You should get yourself cleaned too” she grabbed the towel from the rack and threw it on him, effectively flattening his still semi-hard cock and his appetite and energy for another round.
“But –“
“This is serious shit Jason! Gotta stay healthy if we’re to repeat it.”
She winked suggestively, rushing to the bathroom, leaving a little crack in the door, so he could faintly hear her peeing.
What was wrong with this girl!?
This must have been just some stupid nightmare, a product of his tired, messed up, beaten brain--
“So. You wanted to talk about something?” she was back about a minute later. “hey, you still didn’t clean up?”
“Are you always like this?”
“Like what?” she touched her right buttock and hissed at the contact with a scratch his hands left on the skin.
“This no-nonsense attitude!”
“What else do you want me to do?” she tilted her head, looking at him quizzically
 “Oh I don’t know!” he finally lost his patience, feeling too vulnerable and too emotional for his own liking, feeling the compelling need to cover himself. Both physically and emotionally. “Normally people like to – oh, I don’t know – talk after sex? Maybe cuddle a little? But you’re just like oh, hey, it was a nice fuck, thanks for letting me use you, dressing and washing up like a freaking germophobe!” he got tangled in his pants, hardly preventing himself from tripping which would be even more condescending.
“Jason-“
“I’m being serious here Y/N!”
‘You called me slut.” She deadpanned, raising an eyebrow.
‘I called you – ok, fine! Fine I called you slut. Is that why you’re suddenly icing me out?”
“No.”
“No!? That’s it? That’s all you got? I can’t fucking believe it!” he punched the wall leaving a little dent, but the broken pride clearly did not affect Y/N.
“Could you please calm down and stop depriving me of my deposit on this place? I’d appreciate it.”
“You’re fucking unbelievable!”
“I don’t understand why you’re being so emotional about it Jason.” It might have been a mirage but from Jason’s perspective it looked like Y/N literally rolled her eyes!
“We had sex!”
“Yes? and?” She hesitated giving him a chance to explain further but he was just standing there with eyes wide and mouth open. “Oh come on, this was just an itch, right? We’re bound by business, not pleasure. You don’t mix two explosives like us. It’s just unwise. We’re both adults, sex is not always about deeper feelings-”
She was still talking but he could hardly hear anything with the way blood was humming in his ears, successfully blocking any other bullshit coming out of her mouth (thankfully for Jason though).
Bound by business.
Mixing explosives.
Unwise.
Unwise!
Fucking unwise!?
“Jason?” she smiled softly, as if nothing happened, bending down and searching his eyes. “That gun shipment of yours? It happens in an hour at the docks and everything is orchestrated by Black Mask. I would take some backup if I were you, it might get ugly.”
“Yeah. Whatever.”
Without any further words he walked outside, feeling defeated like never before and the nail to the coffin was the sound of the door being locked right after him.
He should have known better that a girl who climbed this high in the criminal underworld would be fucked up in some way.
But how can one prepare for the reality of the broken heart?
Back up his ass. He was about to turn his newly found pain into rage and kill each and every one of Sionis’ men himself.
The moon was about to turn bloody that night….
And the worst part?
She was still his information dealer. The best in Gotham, regardless of what he might have said before.
And he was still going to work with her.
Do you know that warning : don’t drink and drive or better : don’t drink and text?
Yep.
Another one should be the warning of developing feelings for your literal partner in crime. 
@lettucel0ver @oohyasumi @apple---cider---vinegar
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ethofangorl · 2 months ago
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Hermitcraft/life series incorrect quotes
Scot: Can I have some water?  Joel: *starts chugging their water bottle*  Joel: *chokes from drinking too fast*  Joel: *spills water all over themself*  Joel, coughing: I don't have any water.
Scar: Vegetable oil is made from vegetables, coconut oil is made from coconuts, so BABY OIL-  Cleo: CAN'T WE JUST HAVE A NICE FAMILY DINNER FOR ONCE?!
Grian: Act natural.  Mumbo: For this kind of situation, the most natural thing would be to panic, so technically I can panic.  Grian: NO, that’s not what I meant! Act like it’s a normal day!  Mumbo: My ‘normal’ days of late, consist of a lot of panic.  Grian: Will you just cooperate?  Mumbo: When a person is panicking, they are not apt to cooperate very well!
Grian: You really believe in Joel?  Lizzie: Luckily, they believe in themself enough for the both of us
Scar: You should see Grian, he’s a total tsundere. Isn’t he just the best? Gem: He stabbed you.
Scar, throwing their head into Grian's lap: Tell me I'm pretty!  Grian, lovingly stroking their hair:You're pretty fucking annoying, that's what you are
Cleo: I love sarcasm! It’s like punching people in the face, but with words!
Doc: I apologize for saying 'fuck' in front of Gem.  Ren: You just said it again.  Gem: Doc: I am not a role model.
Lifers reactions to being called straight:  Joel: The fuck, no I'm not.  Ren: Excuse the hell out of you?  Scar: Ding dong, you are wrong!  Martyn: Who told you that? And why did they lie?  Grian: Rude.  Cleo: *punches the person*
Grian: Scar... you've been cuddling with me for over and hour now.  Scar: *muffled* mm hmmm :)  Grian: Fuck. I should be annoyed but you're adorable.
Joel: Bitch.  Bdubs: Blocked.  Joel: Wait unblock me I need to tell you something.  Bdubs: Unblocked.  Joel: Bitch.
Scot: When I said bring me something back from the beach I meant like a conch shell!  Martyn: *Struggling to hold a seagull* Fucking say that next time!
Ren To Mumbo: Wow, left handed AND British? You really are an illusion.
Gem: When I first met you, I thought you were weird and annoying.  Joel: And?  Gem: And you are.
Grian: I’ve been described as a ‘heartless villain’ and a 'little shit’, but I prefer… 'has alternative ways of having fun
Grian: The best way to gain someone's undying loyalty is by saving them from a perilous situation.  Scot: So you're just gonna wait until Scar is in danger and save them?  Grian: Of course not, I'm going to create a situation that puts them in danger and then save them.  Scot: ...  Scot: You're insane.
Grian: The time to act is now.  Scar: Wink, wink.  Grian: Don't say "wink wink". Just wink.  Scar: Oh, sorry.  Scar: Wink.
*lifers at a family dinner*  Pearl: Can you pass the salt?  Scot: *throws Joel across the table*
Tango: Did you buy eggs like I asked?  Jimmy: Even better!  Tango: What the fuck did you-  Jimmy: *holding up a chicken* Her name is Fluffy Tango: She’s… beautiful!
Skizz: I’ve never asked someone out. How do you even do it?  Joel: Oh, what I do is, I look them up and down and I say: “Hey… how you doin’?”  Skizz, scoffing: Oh, please.  Joel, to Jimmy: Hey, how you doin’?  Jimmy: jimmy: *giggles and blushes*
Joel, driving in his car with the other winners and singing to the Little Einsteins theme song: We’re going on a trip-  Martyn: In our favorite piece of shit!  Grian: Doing 95!  Scot: We’re gonna fucking die!
Scar: The clock is ticking! We don't have time for this asinine tomfoolery!  Impulse: This unmitigated poppycock?  Gem: Extravagant hogwash!  Grian and Mumbo: Okay, stop.
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superblysubpar · 8 months ago
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<- part five | part seven -> | series masterlist
chapter summary: Is the game over?
the song: Pretty Please by Dua Lipa
also for your listening pleasure: Need You Tonight by INXS, Drive by The Cars, and...any guesses?
4,377 words | please see masterlist for gen warnings / brief descriptions of scars / brief mentions of alcohol-being sober / SPICE/SMUT - fingering (reader receiving), hand job (reader performing), semi-public but not “caught” or visible | my blog is 18+
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Hawkins, Indiana - the past
  “Hey,” he greeted you.
  Like it was normal. 
  Like he’d done it hundreds of times before.
  Steve Harrington stood on the sidewalk in front of The Hawk, smiling at you. A timid, tight lipped one, with hands shoved into the front pocket of his Levi’s. 
  You nodded your head, trying and failing to look anywhere but him, scuffing the toe of your sneaker against the sidewalk. His hair much longer than the last you spoke, curled around his ears and neck, a few pieces falling over his forehead. Broad shoulders and long legs, scruff dotting his jaw. 
  He leaned against the brick building now, hand removing his keys from his pocket so he could throw them and catch them, loop the ring around his finger and spin it. He looked at you and raised his eyebrows, “They’re late.”
  You mistook it as a question, answering agitated with a glare down the empty main street, “Yeah, they’re always late,” you sighed, then clarified,
“I’m meeting some friends.”
  Steve blinked at you, and then laughed, but covered it with a cough, rubbing at his jaw. “Yeah, me too.”
  Your shoulders rose at the thought, snarky Tommy and bitchy Carol who were sure to say something nasty to you and ruin your whole night. The awful pair showing up, while you were alone with Steve Harrington was not how your Friday night was supposed to go. 
  “Not Tommy and Carol,” Steve spoke softly to the tension filled shoulders in front of him, swallowing thickly, “Not friends with them anymore.”
  “Wow,” you crossed your arms, shielding yourself from memories and any possible outcome of this conversation, “Must have done something really high on the asshole meter for them to drop you.”
  Steve’s lips twitched when you looked at him, a slight smirk, a shoulder shrug before he admitted, “You could say that.”
  Your shoulders relaxed but your arms stayed wrapped around you, squeezing yourself when Steve’s tongue slipped out over his top lip before he gestured to you, gaze unwavering from your face. “Ya know, I don’t think we’ve talked since-“
  “Sorry! Sorrysorrysorry!” Robin was running down the sidewalk, waving her hands and panting. Eddie was a few steps behind her, looking at you worried and with his hands in his leather jacket’s pockets. 
  “Eddie would like it known that he was not late, and that it was entirely my fault. But I could not find a pair of socks for the life of me and then the pair I found I couldn’t wear with my shoes and-“
  “Robin,” you laughed, interrupting the explanation that had no end in sight, “I told you the movie started a half hour before it did, you’re right on time.”
  She gasped, and pointed an accusatory finger at you but then frowned, turning to the boy still leaning against the brick. “But Dingus told me the same time.”
  Steve stood up straight and walked over slowly, explaining, “I did the same thing. Great minds think a like, I guess.”
  You stared at him. He stared at you. Your mouth parted to say absolutely not, hell no, over your dead body or some form of: you are not going to a movie with Steve Harrington, but Robin clapped and said, “Well, that popcorn’s not gonna eat itself!”
  She smiled at you nervously and then spun, grabbing Steve’s arm and pushing him towards the line in front of the ticket booth. 
  Leaving Eddie to face your wrath alone. His cheek pulled between his teeth and big, sorry eyes blinked at you as he leaned in with an offered hand, “You can squeeze it every time you feel like punching him.”
  You laced your fingers with his and squeezed as hard as you could until Eddie was shrieking, “Sweetheart! I have to play tomorrow, don’t break the money makers.” 
  Steve looked over his shoulder to see you laughing, holding Eddie Munson’s hand. 
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    Family Video - Friday
  Steve Harrington kisses like you thought he would.
  Not that you’d thought about kissing him. 
  He’s confident and practiced, as his lips slip over yours, slotting together like you’d done it before. He’s a little eager, messy, hands squeezing at your hips as his tongue begs you to open for him. He’s unable to shut up, even when his mouth is preoccupied, a groan from his throat, a sigh from his nose against your cheek, a gasped pant of your name against your lips. 
  You kiss him like he didn’t expect. 
  You’re a little mean, which, okay, maybe he should have guessed that. Fingers tugging his hair in a way you couldn’t possibly know he likes but do as your teeth nip at his bottom lip. You’re needy with it, desperate, maybe frantic is the right word - mouth opening for him eagerly, hands slipping from his hair and tugging on his shirt collar, noses squished together when you kiss him with more power. 
  Both of you stumble backwards, Steve’s hands roaming so one can support your back and the other drifts lower, grazing over your thigh, past the hem of your dress to your knee, lifting your leg so it’s hitched on his hip as you fall backwards on top of the table. 
  He wishes he could have recorded the sound you made when the new position has you feeling how hard he is pressed up between your spread legs. His hand lays flat on the table, slipping on scattered papers as yours cling to his neck so you can roll your hips against the bulge of his Levi’s. 
  “We-fuck,” Steve speaks into your mouth, breath hitching when your back arches and you sigh underneath him again, “We should-“
  “Stop talking, Harrington,” you breathe into his mouth, fingers drifting to between the buttons of his polo. 
  He kisses you with increased urgency, a clash of lips and tongue and teeth while the fingers on your knee squeeze. A large hand skates up your thigh, taking the red cotton with it. You whimper when it stops at your hip, thumb swiping over the exposed skin, brushing at lace. He’s seeing stars behind his closed lids, mixed with images of pink lace beneath his sweatshirt. He needs to breathe, to wave the white flag, to talk about this. 
His thumb drags over the lace, following the crease of your thigh, as you gasp into his mouth the word please.
  He’ll breathe later. 
  Steve’s thumb finds wet lace and travels higher with precision and care that has your stomach dropping, flipping, and filling with warmth. Like you’re about to face a big fear, about to do something really stupid but exhilarating.
  About to feel Steve Harrington’s fingers on you where you’ve always wanted them but would never admit. 
  And then the door chimes and someone is calling out about a deliver from somewhere that feels far away and also incredibly too close.
  Steve jumps off of you, gasping for air as you shove at his shoulders. 
  His hair is messier than usual, and all you can think about is how good it felt beneath and between your fingers. Cheeks pink and pupils blown have pride shooting through your veins like a drug. Lips kiss slick and swollen and your stomach aches that they’re not on you anymore. A noticeably tight crotch of his jeans that has your chest sparking and fizzing and your legs clamping closed when his hand rubs at it. 
  You jump off of the table, and Steve’s cock twitches when you seem a little wobbly, a little dazed. A strap of cherry red fallen from your shoulder, chest heaving and begging for his lips and teeth to devour it. Lips glossy and eyes glassy reminding him of the word please.
  “I,” you gasp, “I have…”
  You’re gone, without finishing the thought, racing out of the back room, and only pausing long enough to grab your bag.
  Steve races past a delivery guy who blinks at him, bored, when he flashes a one second finger at him. 
  He follows you right out of the store and into the parking lot, calling your name and begging you to stop. 
  You do, facing him timidly, hands shaking. 
  Steve takes a step closer to you, forehead furrowed and looking like a kicked puppy as you avoid eye contact and gesture to the store.
  “I’ll…I’ll do the shipment unloading tomorrow morning. You can lock up and go home, I’ll-“
  “Where are you going? We need to talk about-“
  “No,” you close your eyes when he takes another step towards you, holding up your hand. 
  “Yes,” Steve says strongly, fingers slipping around your wrist when your palm meets his chest.
  Your eyes open to find your fingers close to the polo’s buttons you just undid, the bob of his adams apple and jaw clenched, the stare coming from honey eyes intent on trapping you and keeping you stuck there. 
  “No,” you say more confidently than you feel, “I’m going home and you’re going home and we’re going to forget about what just happened.”
  “What just happened?” Steve asks quietly.
  “Exactly,” you nod.
  “No,” Steve laughs, his thumb brushing over the inside of your wrist, “What just happened?”
  The summer sunset is beginning, golden and tangerine light casting him in unfairly flattering light. It’s making the green stand out in the gold and brown of his eyes. Making freckles along his nose and next to those eyes beg to be brushed by your lips. Making his pink lips even more kissable. It’s making you pretty sure you hear Peter Gabriel singing and Huey Lewis and that one song Steve’s always whistling playing like the soundtrack to a movie. 
  “Nothing,” you whisper, finger touching the button on the polo, “Nothing just happened and we’re gonna forget the nothing.”
  Steve’s fingers slip from your wrist into your palm, curling around your fingers as he lifts it to his lips and presses a gentle kiss there. 
  “As you wish.”
  With one last precise blow to your defenses, you stumble backwards, blinking at him. 
  Nothing stands between Steve Harrington and his conquest anymore.
  Neither of you is sure who’s more afraid of the thought.
  You’re certain you don’t want to stick around and find out, spinning away from him and not daring to look over your shoulder to find him watching you walk away with real, genuine, hope in his eyes. 
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    A house on Cornwallis Street - Saturday
  “How is it?” 
  Your tongue slips out over your bottom lip, catching stray cherry slurpee.
  “Mm it’s okay, something’s different though…” you note the street name as you round the corner, the long line of cars already parked along the curb. 
  Eddie swallows in the driver’s seat, “Oh?”
  You indulge him, frowning as you take another long sip, “Yeah…cherry…mixed with…” you smack your lips, “Bribery?”
  He purses his, “Weird.”
  “Eddie,” you sigh as he pulls up to an open spot near a house that a party is clearly happening at. “I’m not dressed for this.”
  “What are you talking about,” Eddie gestures to your red tank top, your shorts and sneakers, “You look like a million bucks.”
  A frown deepens around the slurpee straw.
  He raises his hands in surrender, “Listen, a Munson is always prepared for the worst, and it’s becoming a real possibility that I’ll be needing that million bucks when you sleep with the enemy.”
  Your body heats up at the insinuation, at the flashes of Steve’s lips on yours, but you dryly say, “Ha-ha.”
  When you worked your shift this morning after a sleepless night, you’d arrived at Family Video early only to find Steve had done all of the work last night, after you left. You’d spent your entire shift watching and re-watching The Princess Bride glaring at Westley and cursing Steve Harrington for existing. 
  Eddie hops out of the van, rounding the hood while you sit in the passenger seat and pout. He comes over to the open window and mimics your jutted out lips. “An hour. Two tops.”
  Which is how you find yourself, two hours later, in the quiet basement of a stranger’s house, still Munson-less, with no end in sight.
  The music from the main floor vibrates the ceiling, stomping of peoples shoes competing for the loudest volume. Splashes from a pool and giggles in the pitch of flirting float in through a sliding door. You sip a lemonade out of a solo cup and fiddle with the eight ball on the pool table under the dim lighting. The ball falls to the floor and rolls between two Nike’s when his voice scares you.
  “New top?”
  Steve bends to pick up the ball, looking up at you as he stands and you whisper, “No.”
  He swallows as he takes a step closer, then another slowly, waiting to see if you’ll run like a scared animal as he approaches, but you just back up with each step, till your butt hits the edge of the pool table. 
  Each step makes the three words ringing in both of your heads louder and louder.
  As you wish. As you wish. As you wish. As you-
  “What are you doing here?” 
  Steve’s lips twist and he sighs, “Funny,” another step and he’s almost right in front of you, “Was just about to ask you the same thing.”
  Your heart thuds louder than the beat of the INXS song playing above you both and you’re certain being in a dimly lit basement with Steve Harrington twice in one week is not good for your health. 
  “I-“
  Steve presses a finger to your lips, adams apple bobbing as he shakes his head no and rasps, “I have a proposition.”
  When you don’t say anything he removes his finger, unable to help himself and let’s the pad of it drag your bottom lip so he can watch it bounce back into place. 
  “Big brain word,” you murmur, “Want a prize?”
  Steve nods and you’re certain the house is on fire, you’re not sure how your lungs are working, or how your brain communicates to your mouth to say, “What’re you proposing?”
  He takes the last step, your legs falling apart without even thinking about it so he can stand between them. He lets the ball go on the green felt, hands pressed to the wood on either side of your hips.
  “I wanna play a game,” he says it so quietly, you find yourself leaning in, noses almost touching as he nods to the pool table. He smirks, continuing to whisper, “Might even let you win.”
  Steve grabs the solo cup between your hands, setting it out of the way and making you wonder what hands are for other than to grab collars of shirts to tug lips closer while he keeps talking, “If I win, we’re gonna talk about what we’re supposed to forget.”
  To avoid the temptation, you press your hands to the pool table behind you, scratchy felt scraped by your fingers as you resist touching him when you ask, “And when I win, what do I get?”
  He grabs your hips, he tilts his head, tip of his nose tapping yours, as his heartbeat throbs in his ears, muffling The Cars playing above him. He’s not sure how he manages to ask, “What do you want?”
  “I’ll tell you,” your bottom lip brushes his as you talk, “When I think of something.”
  Steve says your name so softly, so tenderly, if there was any wall surrounding yourself, it’d have crumbled into dust. He shakes his head no, lip skimming yours, breath exhaled against your cheek, “Need to hear what you want.”
  “Why? Afraid you’re gonna lose and you won’t like my prize?” You tease, hand dragging across felt as you do, temptation beginning to pull ahead in the war. 
  The two of you are fighting for and against the same things, and it doesn’t matter anymore, you both just want to win - whatever that means. All Steve wants is for you to know the bet means nothing to him, and all you want is him to know how much you want him to kiss you again, the consequences of toying with your heart be damned. 
  Your hand grabs his bicep, squeezing before roaming higher as your lips remain close, but not kissing as he groans, “I can’t…” Steve’s eyelashes flutter, “I can’t think straight when you wear this color.”
  A smile bumps your lips together again as your hand curls around the back of his neck, murmuring against his mouth, “Sounds like a poor excuse from a guy who knows he’s already lost.”
  Steve nods, noses bumping together as he does. His chest rises and falls with each heavy breath as his hands adjust on your waist, stepping closer and pushing you up onto the pool table.
  “You win,” he agrees, “Gonna tell me what you want, now?”
  Your fingers curl into the hair at the nape of his neck and you nod, tugging your body closer to his.
  “A kiss.”
  Steve exhales a sigh, hands roaming back down to your hips as he tsks, “Ask me nicely.”
  You laugh quietly, your free hand grabbing at his belt loops as you add on sweetly, “A kiss, please.”
  He ducks his head, lips skimming over your jaw and pressing a kiss lightly to the hinge. 
  You squeeze the back of his neck, “Stop messing around.”
  His smile can’t be hidden when it’s pressed to your skin, voice muffled against your throat, “Ask me nicer.”
  “More nicely,” you correct quietly, awarded with a scrape of his teeth just below your ear making it hard to focus. But somehow you manage, “Harrington please kiss me.”
  He kisses the spot his teeth just were, dragging his lips down your throat and pressing another there, then another on your shoulder, another in the center of your chest, memorizing every sigh he gets, every squeeze of your fingers on his neck. He stands up straight again, nose to nose, looking like he’s just woken up from a deep dream. 
  His iris’ are taken over by dark pupils, yours blink at him under fluttering eyelids. The dim light above you both sways from the bouncing floor above it, casting shadows over freckles and laugh lines, scars old and new in almost identical spots. Chests heave in time with anticipation. Nervous fingers slip against skin, tongues wet lips, breaths are inhaled then exhaled between closer than ever mouths.  
   It all happens quickly after that, and yet, each moment lingers, like it’s making sure you’re both committing it all to memory.
  There’s one, where you softly, sweetly, genuinely, sincerely, ask:
  “Steve, please kiss me.”
  Several that feel like he’s moving through jello, or that his body is made of jello and doesn’t know how to work like a normal human body without immense concentration. Hands on your hips leaving so he can cup your jaw and support the back of your head, then leans the smallest bit forward, closing the centimeters of space between your lips. 
  One where he stops, just before they meet, where he glances down at your lips and you nod and nothing can be heard except an inhale in and thunderous hearts threatening to crack out of chests. 
  Then, Steve Harrington is kissing you.
  And you’re kissing him back. 
  This kiss, is different. This kiss is like Summer. 
  It's softer, slower - but not lazy. His hand cupping your cheeks adjusts purposefully, spread fingers over your jaw to tilt it how he wants you. So he can savor the taste of cherries and lemonade on your lower lip when his tongue traces it. 
  He holds your top lip between his, breathing into your mouth as it parts for him, tongues sweeping together as he adjusts his head. His nose nudges your cheek as you kiss each other deeply, fingers sliding back on your jaw, thumb brushing your ear and down your neck. He feels like someone has set his entire body on fire, bones cracking from his lungs fighting for air when you relax against him, sighing. 
  There's a warmth radiating and spreading from both of you, slow building but all consuming. It makes you want to lay and bask in the glow but also shield yourself from the burn that’s sure to come when your fingers tug on the strands of caramel locks and your name slips past his lips against yours.
  It’s not unlike a sudden summer storm, the way it changes quickly.
  Kissing that’s warm and sweet turning a little balmy, sticky, almost unbearably hot. 
  Your fingers push at the back of his head, needing him closer, his roam lower to your hips once more, tugging on belt loops. One can’t help but go up again, pulling fabric with it so the pads of his fingers can touch the bare skin of your ribs. 
  Steve can’t breathe when your legs wrap around his waist and you gasp into his mouth, “More.”
  He pants into your mouth, fingers squeezing at bare skin and brushing lace, “Ask nicely.”
  You nip at his bottom lip and he laughs into your mouth, both of you feeling drunk despite being one hundred percent sober. 
  Steve thinks someone cruel developed lungs and he settles for kissing your neck and shoulders as he tries to catch his breath, hand toying with the button of your shorts. He thinks he’s been transported to space when your back arches and you grip his biceps as his mouth latches onto the juncture between your neck and shoulder. His tongue swipes over the skin a little sloppy as you stutter out the word please. 
  He removes himself from your neck, breathing heavily as you stare at each other. His grin cocky and somehow endearing now as he asks breathlessly, “See, was that so hard honey?”
  Honey.
  Steve swallows when blink up at him dazed at the endearment. You swallow from the way he looks when he says it.
  Like he means it. Like you’re his.
  Then, the music upstairs changes, the melody familiar, tugging on something in your brain as Steve works on the button and zipper of your shorts. 
  He leans over you, supporting himself with a flat palm to the table as he looks down at the small space between your bodies. His fingers skim the black lace band, traveling back and forth over the skin and watching goosebumps rise to the surface. 
  As Steve’s fingers move beneath the band of your underwear you gasp, your hands grab at his shoulders. Two fingers slip past your clit, spreading your folds and teasing at your entrance then back up. His nose nudges your cheek, kissing your jaw as he practically growls, “You’re so wet, baby.”
  He circles your clit with soaked fingers, making you roll against his wrist, your head turn so you can catch his lips. 
  It’s the heart of the storm now, messy and unpredictable as he swirls precisely over your nerves with his thumb and slowly pushes his finger then a second one quickly inside of you. He pumps them in and out as his mouth works over you in time with his thumb. He memorizes every hitch of your breath against his lips, cataloging every sound so he remembers what you like. He removes his mouth from yours as you tug at the back of his head, his name leaving your lips in a way he’d only every dreamed of hearing. 
  He kisses along your jaw as your head falls backwards, doubling down on his finger’s movements in the same spots. His mouth moves against your ear, “You gonna come for me?”
   The storm swallows you whole, all defenses crumbled long ago so there’s nothing to ease the damage anymore. Your stomach tightens as Steve keeps talking, his words making your eyelids flutter as your orgasm crashes over you. 
  “Come on, trouble, I win. Gonna give me what I want?”
  You clench around his fingers, and he captures your mouth with his again as you begin to yell his name. 
  Steve’s fingers eventually slow, then slip out of you. Your lips part, noses and foreheads touching. You keep your eyes closed, not sure if you can face the storms destruction if you open them.
  His hands run up and down your thighs, making you shiver as he murmurs, “Told you I was back.”
  Your hands are still wrapped around his neck, nose bumping his as you open your eyes. Words lost in your laugh as you say, “Shut up, Harrington.”
  Steve smirks, eyes flashing with something dangerous. 
  “Make me.”
  Your hands fall to his waist, fingers on his belt and a smile fit for a winner on your lips when he bites his and moans as your palm presses over denim, relieving only a fraction of the tension. 
  “This what we did, Steve?” You quietly ask as the sound of his belt clicking together and the drag of his zipper bring you one step closer to confirming it’s not a rumor.
  “Wh-what?” He asks, voice desperate as your hand grabs him through the black Calvins and you grin.
  Not rumors. 
  “In your dreams,” you remind him of something he told you that feels like years ago but was in fact this same week. 
  You press a kiss to his jaw as it opens in a gasp when your hand slips beneath his boxers. Unable to help noting you’ve gotten the upper hand again. You murmur in his ear as you tug on his length once. 
  “It’s what we do in mine.”
  Your name is a whimper, along with the word, “More.”
  You grin against his neck.
  “Ask me nicely.”
  Steve laughs with a groan, forehead pressed to your shoulder in defeat.
  “Ple-“
  The call of your name from the top of the stairs cuts him off. Eddie’s voice calling down into the dimly lit space, “You down here?”
  “Coming!” You call up loudly as you let go of Steve.
  Gently, you push him away, hopping off of the table and righting your shorts. 
  You kiss his cheek and whisper, “Thanks for the game, Steve.”
  Your heartbeat is erratic as he catches your wrist and he asks, just as quiet, “Do…can we…is the game over?”
  The way he genuinely, sincerely asks you has that spark in your chest sputtering, frayed wire live and dangerous as you dare to admit,
  “I hope so.”
 
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spookysteddie · 1 year ago
Text
Always Comin’ Home to You
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Gator Tillman x fem!reader
18+ MINOR DNI
dec: after a fight with his step-mother Gator comes home late, scaring you. His bruises tell you of the day he had and all he wants is to feel you.
cw: Swearing, abandonment, mental / physical abuse (Roy to Gator), domestic abuse (Roy to Karen), bruises, mention of death, implication of anxiety, murder, toxic religion themes, gator calls his step-mom a cunt, crying, fingering, daddy kink, dd/lg themes if you squint, Gator calls himself her God (what's the name for that?), unprotected penetrative sex, cream pie, promises. (let me know if I missed anything)
wc: 3.7k
a/n: I need Gator Tillman like I need to fucking breathe. This man is WOW. I just want to pet him and tell him he is, in fact, a winner and then suck him off. Anyway, I hope y'all like this heheh
...
Gator Tillman didn’t have a lot of good things in his life. 
Between his mother leaving, his father being as asshole and everything in between, Gator was a little fucked up and very morally gray. Doing his daddy's dirty work in the hopes Roy will finally be proud of him. 
Now, there was one good thing (or person) in his life, one human who brought out the best in him. One person who saw him for the person he was deep inside. The one who saw him as a winner. 
You. 
You were everything Gator could ever dream of, his perfect girl. 
“Gator? Baby have you seen my sunglasses?” You pull some clothes out of the hamper, double (triple) checking that they weren’t in there. “Do you have them? Are they in your cruiser?!” 
You hear Gators heavy footsteps before he leans against the doorframe, arms crossed, “have ya checked on top of ya head?” You can hear the smugness in his voice and instantly you want to punch him. 
You were an angel and subsequently the sweetest girl. Shit, you make Gator catch and release the spiders you find in the house because you ‘want someone to grant you the same kindness in life’. Whatever that means. But of course he does it, because the last thing he wants is to make you cry. 
Well, that’s not true. He loves making you cry while your wrapped around his cock, fucking you so deep and hard that you can’t form a complete thought. Only then does he enjoy the tears streaming down your face. 
But at the same time, you had a wicked attitude. One he liked to fuck outta you at every opportunity. And when you look up at him he knows it’s coming. 
“Do they look like they’re on my fuckin’ head, Gator? Jesus Christ.” But he doesn't fail to notice you subtly check in the mirror to make sure they aren’t actually on your head. They aren’t, for the record. 
Gator is not like his daddy. Does he have his fathers attitude? Absolutely. But he has never raised his hand to you outside of the bedroom, much to his fathers dislike. Claiming he’s watched his father beat on his step-mother and even though he hates her – only because she gave birth to his twin sisters, giving his father two more chances to fuck their futures up – he doesn’t think it’s right. 
He balls his fists, nails digging into the center of his hand. He has too much shit to do today and, frankly, doesn’t have time for this shit. “Watch ya mouth bunny. Lucky my dad aint home to hear you take Christs name in vain.” 
Gator is right. His daddy already doesn't like you, doesn’t think you’re Godly enough. He also seems to think you’re an idiot simply because Gator does everything for you, even down to tying your shoes. It’s something Gator likes doing, taking care of you as it helps ease his mind. 
But at the same time Roy wonders how his son could catch and keep a girl like you. It’s emotional whiplash most of the time. Of course, Gator takes the brunt of his daddy's issues when it comes to you, never letting his daddy so much as look wrong in your direction. 
You sigh, running your hands down your pink skirt, “look, can you please help me find them? You know my eyes don’t do well with the sun bouncing off the snow.” 
His eyes soften, loving when you need his help, “I’m willin’ to bet they’re in the cruiser on the floor boards.” 
Your face heats as you remember exactly why they’d be on the floor of the cruiser, your escapades from your little meeting at the police station last night. There was always that preliminary fuck before going back to Roys (cause God forbid Gator ever come stay at your place. His daddy needs him nice and close.) considering you don’t know how to keep your moans quiet. So, he tires you out, not so much that you can’t drive back to his place, but just enough to where you’re silent during round two and three and four. 
The cold nips at your bare legs, winter just as brutal as every other year in this godforsaken state. You swear it never gets easier, winter, and the older you get the more you think about moving south. You think Gator would like the warmer weather, probably find the warmth soothing. 
“Ah ha! Got ‘em!” Gator hands them to you with a huge smile on his face. He looks almost boy-like. It’s rare he has a genuine smile, especially when his daddy is around. 
“Gator,” his step-mothers voice rings out from the porch, making you both jump. He doesn’t turn around, doesn’t give her the satisfaction of seeing his frustration. “Stop yellin’ cause your sisters are sleepin’!” 
“Karen, they’re at the other end of this fuckin house and your scratchy ass voice is louder than me.” 
You can see her huff, “I should call your father!” 
He sighs, turning on his heel, “I don’t think that’ll be a good idea. Dad’s… a little busy today.” Gator knows exactly what his daddy is busy with, not that he’d ever tell you. Terrified that he would somehow put you in danger. 
You know that there was shit his daddy made him do. Things that forced him to come home with black eyes, bloody lips and bruises on his knuckles and body. It hurt your heart every time he came home like that, telling you it was nothing while he winces as he takes off his clothes. 
Karen seethes from the porch and you see her look from Gator to you and back. Gator, who notices everything, sees it and steps in front of you, pushing you behind him. “Don’t look at her like that, Karen.” 
That seems to annoy her more, “she better not be here tonight. You hear me? Don’t need your sisters hearin the stuff you two get up to at night.” 
“Not any worse than dads hands hittin’ your face while they sit at the kitchen table.” You cringe at his statement, seeing Roy hit Karen more times than you can count. “You don’t run this house. Or tell me what to do.” He spits on the ground and turns away, waiting till he hears the door slam to speak. 
“I fuckin hate her. She’s sucha little bitch.” 
You wrap your arms around his middle, breathing him in. “Can stay at mine tonight if you want. Don’t wanna get you in trouble,” you murmur into his shirt. “O-or we can spend a night apart. I know we haven’t done that inna while but just till this blows over an’ we know she didn’t say nothin’ to your father.” 
You know you're rambling, but all you want is to make Gators life comfortable and safe. You know there is a small chance that Karen will call Roy, tell him what happened, maybe even lie (she’s done that before) and say you upset her. If that happens, Gator will get it good, possibly another broken arm or dislocated jaw. That’s the last thing you want. You can feel you chest ache, eyes burning at the idea of Roy hurtin’ him. 
Gator pulls your face back from his chest, making you look up at him, “don’t you be worryin’ bout me now. Roy ain’t gonna do shit and I don’t sleep when you aren’t curled up next to me,” he kisses your forehead. “I’ll put some feelers out to see if that little bitch called him. Gotta meeting at 3 with him.” 
You nod, your hand coming up to fix his jacket. In reality, you just need something to distract from the burning behind your eyes. 
“Hey? I’m serious. I’ll be fine, okay?” He lets you go to reach into his pocket, pulling out some cash and handing it to you, “why don’t you go get your nails done or something, yeah?” 
You know refusing to take the money wont go well, so you take it, putting it in the pocket of your jacket. “Thank you, daddy,” you whisper out, knowing you aren’t really supposed to say that outside of Gators locked bedroom door. 
He lets it slide, the day has been stressful enough for you. “That’s my good bunny. Now, run along and I’ll meet you here at six okay?” 
You tilt your head, “no station tonight?” 
“Nah… Jerry is working and he’s got a starin’ problem when it comes to ya. Don’t feel like scoopin’ eyeballs out. Too messy.” 
You shudder but kiss him goodbye before getting in your car. You have a very bad feeling his 3pm meeting isn’t going to go how he expects. 
… 
You were right. 
You knew you were right the second you pulled up to his house at six on the dot and he wasn’t home. You reach for your phone, looking to see if maybe you’d missed a text, phone call, shit even an email from your boyfriend. 
Nothing. 
Even when you try to call him, you're met with a voicemail. You can feel the bile rise in the back of your throat, fear making your skin itch. Was this it? Was this the time Roy sends him out there to do his dirty work and he doesn’t make it home? 
He could be anywhere right now. Not only that, if he was dead, no one would do shit for him. No funeral, no service, nothing. His dad would go on and wipe his hands clean of his “loser” son, probably more than happy that the ties of his first wife are gone for good. 
Oh God, what if he was dying, the cold freezing the blood onto his skin, frostbite settling in. He could be so scared, praying to the God he doesn’t believe in that you come find him. His clothes are probably wet too, sticking to him thanks to the sn-
A knock on your window makes you jump, a yelp falling from your lips. You look over, seeing the blue of his jacket in your peripheral and the sight makes you gasp. You’re quick to shut off the car, jumping out and getting a closer look at him. 
He looks… awful. His right eye is nearly swollen shut, dry blood sticking to his split brow. There is a bruise on the other side of his face and under his left eyes, clearly he got hit in the nose. 
“Baby…” this time you can't stop the tears from falling. “Baby what happened?” 
He lets out a long, deep sigh, his hands resting on your cheeks. “Fuckin’ cunt called dad. Said I needed a lesson in respect. S’how I got the bruise on my left eye.” He wipes the tear that falls from your eye, his touch soft and kind, “sent me to do some shit across state lines. Guy beat the fuck outta me. He ain’t alive no more though.” 
You sniffle, “is it just your face?” 
He shakes his head but doesn’t say more. He knows you’ll see the rest once he gets you inside. Well … “we-I can’t let you sleep here tonight, Gator.” 
He shakes his head, “it’s fine. Dad said so himself. Come on.” 
And so he drags you inside, Karen looking like the cat that caught the canary as she watches you help Gator walk. You make a mental note to never forget this, never forget how she treats her step-son.
You push open Gators bedroom door, making sure to shut it silently and lock it before settling Gator on the bed. “Let’s get ya into some comfy clothes, yeah?” 
You crouch down in front of him, making quick work of untying his boots. 
“Baby, I can do this. I’m the one who's supposed to help you.” 
That only makes more tears burn your eyes. You hated that he never let anyone help him, hated that he always had to be strong, couldn’t ever cry, nothing. You hated Roy for making him like this and you hated his mother for leaving and not saving her only son from a life of pain. 
“Stop. Just-just let me help you, Gator please.”  You pull at the laces to loosen them and make it easier to slide off his boot, your vision blurry from the tears in your eyes. 
His boot comes off easy and you make sure you keep your hold on it so it doesn’t make any noise on the floor. Same with the second one. 
You stand, unclipping his thigh holster and setting it on the nightstand where he likes it. Incase of emergencies. Next is his belt, coming off with ease. He stops you when you get to his pants, making you look up at him. He hates the silver shining along your waterline. 
“I love you, little bunny.” He says it so quietly that you almost miss it. 
“I love you too.” Your voice cracks as you say. 
You work on his pants, popping open the buttons with ease. Next you pull his shirt out of his pants and pull it over his head. By the time his shirt hits the floor, you’ve gotten a full look at his bare torso. A bruise is forming along his ribs, it’s really red and slightly turning purple. 
“Jeez baby,” your hands gently touch his skin and he hisses a little. “S-sorry.” 
He says nothing as he helps you pull off his pants, leaving him in just his boxers. 
“Stay here,” you tell him as you collect his dirty clothes and go into his attached bathroom. You sigh as you grab a face cloth, turning the water on so it heats up. It, of course, takes forever for the water to warm. Nothing like shit water heating thanks to the frigid winter. But once it does you wet the cloth and grab the first aid kit and go back to him. 
You’ve done this before, cleaned him up, you’ve even stitched him up. You’d like to thank the internet for telling you how to do that and you’ve gotten good over the last two years. 
“S’is gonna hurt. Luckily it looks like you don’t need stitches. Just don’t move while I work okay?” 
He nods, “yes, baby. Ya don’t have to do this. I know you don’t like blood.” This was true, you didn’t like blood at all, barely even being able to handle papercuts. But for some reason, when it comes to him, you can manage to push it aside. Cuts can get infected and when they’re on his face it means it could go to the brain faster. 
You carefully dab the wet rag around his split eyebrow, gently clearing off the blood and making sure that you don’t resplit the cut open. “I think it split from the swellin’ but I don’t think it needs stitches.” 
He nods slightly, “good. I was hoping it’d close on its own.” 
You put some wound cleaner on it before you bandage it. He might have a scar there unless he leaves it alone. But knowing Gator, it’ll open again. You clean up around his face and causing a hiss to leave his lips once you touch his cheek and eye. You apologize, applying some cream that makes bruises heal faster to his face and ribs. 
“That’s everything.” You force a small smile at him, tossing the wet cloth into the hamper and putting the first aid kit away. You get undressed, needing skin to skin contact. Then, you climb into bed, snuggling up to him, resting your head on the safe side of his chest. 
The silence stretches, Gators arm around your shoulders, his thumb moving softly. 
“I thought you were dead in the snow,” the words tumble out of you before you can stop them. 
He thumb stills for a heartbeat before resuming, “but m’not.” 
“I’m sorry this is the life you were forced into. It is not fair.” 
He kisses your head, breathing you in for a moment, “it’s not your fault, bunny. You didn’t do any of this. Shoulda kept my mouth shut when it came to Karen. Just… smile an’ wave.” 
You shake your head, kissing his chest, “not how it’s supposed to be.”
Gator rolls over you, forcing you on your back. He bites back a pained groan. “My sweet bunny, listen to me. I am here. I am safe. S’gonna take a lot more to kill me.” He leans down, capturing your lips in a sweet kiss. 
You let your hands slide into his hair, deepening the kiss. Honestly, you just need to feel him. He knows it and if he’s being honest, he needs to feel you too. He’ll never say it out loud, but as he laid in the snow, doing his best to get the fucker he was sent to kill off of him, he was scared. 
Scared he would die and you’d spend the rest of you life wondering. He knew no one would fill you in and he knew his daddy wouldn’t have a service for him. You’d be alone, wondering what happened to him, praying to the god you don’t believe in that he’d come home again. So, he fought like hell and now, he really needs you. Needs to be inside you. 
You pull back, breaking the kiss, “Gator, we can’t.” 
“We can. Please baby.” Gator doesn’t beg, he didn’t need to when it came to you. Always more than willing to do what he says and give him what he wants. His begging makes you give in. 
His hands push your underwear aside, feeling how ready you already are for him. Always ready, always wanting and only for him. 
You pull him in for a kiss while his fingers find your clit with ease, swallowing your moans. He always knows exactly how you like it, fingers moving in swift circles and just the right amount of pressure. 
“So fucking pretty when you’re at my mercy,” he pushes two fingers inside you, the stretch making your brain go fuzzy. “Looked so fucking pretty in your little skirt and frilly socks. My little angel.” 
The way Gator is cooing at you, his fingers crooked up to touch the one spot that drives you nuts and you can feel yourself slipping into that headspace you both love. You’re trying so hard to be logical, knowing he’s hurt and can hurt himself further. 
“Thank you, daddy. Bought it because I thought you’d like it.” Your voice is getting small, breathy. 
He grins, kissing down your neck, “I love it. Love everything you wear. Look so pretty in your pastels.” His thumb finds your clit, a soft moan falling from your lips. It’s embarrasing how quickly you are to coming around his fingers. 
“P-please. Gator please.” 
He smirks, “use your words, sweet girl. Tell me what you want.” 
You can feel your body heat up from both the coil inside you winding tighter and the embarrassment of having to say what you want. “I-I need to cum. So bad.” 
The second the words are in the air, Gator pulls his hands away, leaving your orgasm to fade away. “NO! No, no, no, no please!” 
He sucks a mark into your neck, his tongue licking over the spot to sooth it.
“Need ya to cum on my cock, baby.” 
Before your brain can catch up, he’s sliding inside you. The stretch is something you haven't gotten used to in the last two years. It feels like he's splitting you in half, his cock filling you completely. 
“OH! Oh my god.” You're already panting, squeezing him so hard he’s fighting to not bust prematurely. 
Gator drops to his forearms and pumps his hips, getting right in your face. He’s so close you can smell the fruity scent from the vape he was no doubt huffing on before coming to see you. 
“S’right baby, I am your God and I love when ya pray to me.” 
You can’t help the way your cunt clenches, a moan falling from your lips that is just slightly too loud for either of your comforts. At the moment, you don’t care. You know Roy already got his fill of kicking Gatos' ass. He’s not going to worry about it tonight. 
“Daddy, please. I’m so close.” 
His hips are snapping hard, cock hitting your cervix with every thrust. He feels like he’s inside your throat and you can’t tell if his grunts are from pain, pleasure, or both. 
“Not yet. Almost there. D-don’t cum yet.” 
Your nails sink into his biceps, hips starting to stutter. 
“Please! Fuck! Oh god…” 
He smirks, eyes meeting yours, “yeah? I know how bad ya need it. How bad ya need me to fill this pretty, little cunt up. Breed an own ya f’ever? Hm?” His eyes are black and he looks absolutely feral. Primal.  
His hand snakes down the front of your body, finding your clit with ease. You gasp, thighs starting to shake. You knew you weren’t going to last but you needed his permission. You craved his praise and being in his good graces. You’d let him do anything to you, that’s how much you trust him. 
“Yes! Yes! Whatever you want. Anything.” You don’t even know what you’re saying at this point, too cock drunk to think of anything besides him and what he’s doing to you. 
He laughs, seeing your eyes glazed over and tears of pleasure lining your eyes, “cum for me bunny. Do it.” 
It’s all you need to fall into bliss. 
His hand covers your mouth knowing how loud you’re about to be. His face drops into your neck as he cums with you, both of your moans muffled by each other's bodies. His cum fills you, leaking out as he brings you both down. 
His hand slowly leaves your mouth, head lifting to look at you. 
“I love you. I fuckin’ love you so fuckin’ much.” He leaves little kisses all over your face, trying to bring you back to him. “You hear me? M’never leavin’ you.” 
You take a shuddering inhale, trying to form a coherent thought, “P-promise?” 
You hold your pinky up to him, hands shaking while adrenalin continues to run through your veins. He giggles, hooking his pinky with yours, “promise. I’ll always come home to you. I will always fall asleep next to you.” 
He looks down, flipping your hand over and checking out your nails, “I can’t wait for these pretty, red claws to be wrapped around my cock.” 
Your chest lightens as you both laugh together.
661 notes · View notes
multi-fandom-imagine · 1 year ago
Text
•EVEN MORE THE BLUE EYE SAMURAI INCORRECT QUOTES•
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Reader: Do you ever do anything except whine like a little bitch.
Taigen: Some times I whine like a big Bitch!
Ringo: Do you think when Butterflies are in love that they feel human's in their stomach?
Reader: Ringo! What the fuck!
Reader: • • •_-• - / ... - •_• •_• -.-
Mizu: What is that
Reader: Remorse Code.
Mizu: I am even angery now.
Reader: Hey Mizu, what are you eating?
Mizu: A family sized bag of sweets.
Reader...that's not family sized....that's regular sized....
Mizu:Everything is family sized when you dont have a family.
Reader: *whispering* Mizu...nOo
Reader: *Laying in bed* Do you think birds get sad for not having arms?
Mizu: Well do you get sad for not having wings?
Reader: *Choke up* Every single day.
Taigen: If I say I love you will you say it back?
Reader: Yes
Taigen: I love you
Reader: It back
*Five Minutes later*
Mizu: Why is Taigen sobbing face down on the floor?
Reader: I wish I could block people in real life.
Akemi: Restraining order
Mizu: Murder
Reader: What are you five?
Taigen: Yea! Five head's taller than you.
Reader:
Taigen:
Reader:
Taigen:....Please don't kill me.
Mizu: Are you high?
Reader: Am I what?
Mizu: High?
Reader: Hello.
Taigen: Can you be quiet?! I'm trying to think.
Reader: Don't worry. Doing anything for the first time is difficult.
Mizu: WHOEVER CAUSED THIS MESS IS GOING TO-
Reader: It was me...
Mizu: ...Is going to be forgiven because everyone deserves a second chance.
Reader: Why are you on the floor?
Mizu: I’m depressed.
Mizu: Also I was stabbed, can you get Ringo, please
Taigen: I guess I’m just a bad person.
Reader: Nah, you’re not a bad person. You’re a terrific person. You’re my favourite person. But sometimes you can be a real cunt
Reader: Hey Mizu?
Mizu, internally: There they are. My favorite person in the world, the love of my life. Fuck I just want to stare at them and hold them and kiss them for the rest of my life—
Mizu: What the FUCK do you want?
Akemi staring at Reader: “You look like an angel.”
Reader who wasn’t paying attention: “What?”
Akemi: “I said you look ugly at every angle.”
Mizu *screeching*: YOU MEAN A LOT TO ME!
Reader: wh-
Mizu: YOU’RE ESSENTIAL TO MY EXISTENCE!
Reader:why are you screaming??
Mizu: BECAUSE I HAVE TROUBLE EXPRESSING MYSELF! IT HELPS TO YELL SENTIMENTAL THINGS IN AN AGRESSIVE TONE!
Reader: I-
Mizu: I FUCKING LOVE YOU!
Ringo: Wow, it’s a barren featureless wasteland out there isn’t it?
Reader: … Ringo, try turning the map around.
Reader: You’re mad at me.
Mizu: I’m not mad, I’m just disappointed.
Reader: Oh, come on. Everyone knows that’s worse
Mizu: Don’t worry, you’ve got everything you need to defeat them.
Reader: The power to believe in myself?
Mizu: No, a Sword.
Mizu: Stab them.
Reader: Don’t kill me, I have a wife
Assassin: I don’t care about that
Reader: That wasn’t a plea for mercy, that was a warning
Mizu kicking the door down: You called, love?
Reader: Here you are, Mizu. Nice hot cup of tea.
Mizu: …It’s cold.
Reader: Nice cup of tea.
Mizu: It’s horrible.
Reader: Cup of tea.
Mizu: I’m not even sure it is tea.
Reader: Cup.
Reader: You need to react when people cry.
Mizu: I did, I rolled my eyes.
Reader: Gotta love knitting needles, I can make a scarf, I can make a hat, I can stab someones eyes out, I can make mittens.
Akemi: What was that middle part?
Reader: I can make a hat?
Mizu: How much sleep did you get?
Reader: Eight.
Mizu: Hours?
Reader: Minutes. God! Taigen, would you shut the fuck up?
Taigen*Fixing his hair*: What the fuck? I didn’t even say anything!
Taigen: how come you’ve been abnormally nice to me lately?
Reader what do you mean?
Taigen: you just seem nicer than usual
Mizu: They can punch you in the face if you want.
Fowler: I could kill you if I wanted.
Reader: Yeah? So could any other human being. So could a dog. So could a dedicated duck. You aren't special.
Akemi: Did you really have to stab him?
Reader: You weren't there, you didn't hear what he said to me.
Akemi: And what did he say?
Reader: "What are you gonna do? Stab me?"
Mizu, nodding: That's fair.
Akemi: NO!
Reader: *Screams*
Taigen: *Screams louder to establish dominance*
Ringo: Should we do something?
Mizu: No, I want to see who wins.
Ringo:Let's speak about our talents.
Ringo:...I'll start, I like to cook.
Akemi: I'm good at languages.
Reader: I'm good instruments.
Mizu: I'm good at killing people.
Reader: *Does something stupid*
Mizu: What an absolute fucking idiot.
Mizu: I can't believe I would die for them.
704 notes · View notes
paper-crab · 1 year ago
Text
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It’s cold
summary: it’s late and it’s cold outside and matt is avoiding your questions
warnings: unintentionally a bit suggestive
wc: 998
“What are you doing up?” Matt asks you. He’s visibly shaking from the chilly Boston weather, but he’s wrapped in a hoodie and a blanket. He lifts the blanket up, creating a spot for you on the little outdoor loveseat.
“I could ask you the same question,” You roll your eyes at him, taking a seat.
“I’m enjoying the night.”
“Yeah because you enjoy oh-so much.”
“Well, aren’t you just a little bundle of sunshine tonight.” He says, sarcasm dripping from his voice. Despite his lingering words, he scoots closer to you. “What can I say?” You shrug, leaning into his body in an attempt to conserve some warmth. The chill is beginning to seep through the blanket, and you understand why Matt was shivering earlier.
“It’s not every day you get to freeze to death with a stinky guy.” You tease, chuckling at his bemused expression.
“Hey! Where did that come from?” Matt yawns, leaning his head on your shoulder. His teeth are still chattering, cold nipping at both of your covered skin.
“If you’re so cold, why don’t you go inside?”
“Why don’t you?”
“Who said I was that cold?” He lifts his head from your shoulder, giving you a knowing glance. Your body is shaking too. “Okay, maybe I am a little cold.” You say, trying to remain a facade of indifference despite the chill.
“What are you doing out here anyway?”
“I told you, I’m enjoying the night.”
“None of that bullshit Matt, what’s going on?”
“You first, what’s running through that pretty little head of yours?” He says, pulling the blanket up to his chin and snuggling up more.
“I asked first.”
“I asked second,” Matt softly murmurs, giving you a challenging look. “Guess neither of us are getting answers.”
You sigh at his difficulty, leaning into him even more. Huddling together is doing wonders for your collective warmth. You feel like penguins, getting so close together.
“I’ve just been… thinking.”
“Wow, that’s a first.” He grins. You maneuver to punch his arm.
“Hey, it happens! Occasionally…” You whisper the last part, shaking your head at his antics. “But seriously, just needed some fresh air and quiet. You know how loud Chris plays his music at night. I thought the cold would help clear my head.”
“Has it?”
“What?”
“Has it cleared your head?”
You clear your throat. “Wouldn’t you like to know,”
“I would.”
“Well, I’d like to know why you’re out here.”
“Wouldn’t you like to know,” He smiles, proud of himself for using your jokes against you. “Yes, actually. That’s why I asked. Now get on with it or I’m going to leave you to freeze by yourself.”
As they huddle together, the tension rises. Matt hums, seemingly trying to formulate sentences and get out what he wants to say.
“You know,” He starts, his tone edged with curiosity and a hint of frustration. “Sometimes I wonder what you’re hiding.”
“What I’m hiding?” You retort, laughing in his face. “Yeah, I’m the one doing a lot of hiding right now.” Your face stiffens under his gaze. You are hiding something, but right now, it seems like Matt is hiding more.
“Maybe not right now,” Matt counters, his voice softer, “But I’ve seen it before. You deflect.”
“Like you’re doing right now?”
“Touché.”
The accusation lingers in the air, making you feel slightly uncomfortable. Matt can tell, a mix of defense and vulnerability appear in your eyes; like you’re putting your guard up. Despite knowing he’s right, you feel like you’re being too exposed to him of all people. “You can't expect me to open up if you won’t do the same.” You say, turning away from him. You’re prepared to stand and leave, but you feel him grab you, weighing you down.
“I was thinking about you when I came down.” His gaze softens and his grip loosens, letting you know you’re free to go.
You don’t.
“You were thinking about me?” Matt lets out a puff of air, white coming out of his mouth because of the cold. His gaze remains steady, hesitation in his voice. “Yeah, I just… wanted to check on you.”
“Why?” You’re unable to hide the confusion you feel from his words, and as the admission sinks in, your chest feels a bit lighter.
“Because… I care about you,” He nervously smiles, voice barely above a whisper. His stare shifts, hopping from star to star. In that quiet moment, there’s a million thoughts running through your mind, the most prominent one being ‘I want to kiss him’.
For a brief moment, the world around you seems to fade away. The soft glow of the moonlight shines between you two, no sounds around able to take away from the ambience. Even though you’ve had this revelation, you don’t move.
“I care about you too, more than you know.”
“I might have an idea.” He replies softly, a gentle understanding written over his face. While he might have hesitated earlier, he refused to let this moment slip from his grasp. “Can I kiss you?” He’s mere centimeters from your face, breaths mingling in the nippy night air. Your chest tightens in anticipation as you lean even closer to him, whispering “Yes.” against his lips.
In quiet understanding, he leans forward. Refusing to take a peck, he deepens the kiss, effectively stealing your breath.
There’s almost a magnetic pull guiding you together, an almost imperceptible sensation courses through you. Matt refuses to let any of that slip away, so the second he can breathe again, he’s right back to kissing you.
The chilly air fades into insignificance. Matt is the only thing that matters right now.
“Can we go inside?” He mutters, shuddering. “Yeah it’s cold dumbass, why would you come outside in the first place?” You say, pressing another kiss to his lips.
“Why would you follow me?” He picks up the blanket, extending a hand to pull you up from the loveseat.
“I’d follow you anywhere.”
485 notes · View notes
mechanicalpiper · 10 months ago
Note
Hey so I know your busy doing important things (And hearts out for whatever your doing) but I just had another idea come to mind that maybe you could put in a catalog for the future!
"Villain has just been defeated in a long battle by Hero and has decided to try a bit of seduction to win the day. However, Hero is Touch Starved to hell and back and cries at the slightest nice touch/caress"
Bonus points for some heart clenching fluff
Yours truly!
Cooper
You ever procrastinate so hard you start and finish an entirely different project?
By FAR the sappiest and most hurt/comfort-y I've done and was stupidly fun to write. Enjoy :3
Snippet #8
The sounds of strike after strike rang out through the empty city street.
Hero and Villain were once more locked in a tense brawl- nothing new, of course. It had become second nature to them by now- when you spend almost every other day scrapping with the same person for years, it's not hard to get used to it. Hell, with how familiar the two had gotten with each other's fighting styles by now, it was easy for either of them to just let their mind wander while they brawled if they just weren't feeling too up to it that day.
Hero was certainly having one of those days.
They semi-consciously blocked Villain's strikes and threw blows back, less like they were brawling for the safety of the city and more like they were doing a boring day job. An entirely different focus was on their mind... one that had stuck around for a while now. A thought? A worry? A feeling, or the lack of one? Hero couldn't tell by now.
They quickly ducked out of the way just in time as Villain threw a kick at their head, knocking them out of their train of thought and back into full consciousness.
Yeah, fuck, they were fighting Villain. Almost forgot.
Villain certainly took notice of their sudden attention. "Oh, THERE you are. C'mon, can't you at least focus? It's so much less fun when you zone out like that."
"Whuh-? Pff, fun? I'm here to stop you from committing murder, not for a little playdate." Hero grumbled back at their rival, still not fully back at attention.
"Hm. Certainly not the attitude from our first battle. Losing your touch, maybe?" Villain taunted back.
"You wish."
"I don't think I need to. You seem to be dulling just fine without help."
"Still sharper than you. I was winning without paying attention! You couldn't beat my subconscious, how do you expect to beat the rest of me?" As Hero shot back, a tiny smile began to form on their face. Wow, it's been a while since they've bantered in combat like this... it felt nice to just speak with someone, even if that someone was Villain, of all people.
"PFFFF. Winning? The only reason you're not bleeding out on the concrete right now is because I'm having fun with this. I spared you there, y'know~" Villain taunted, a confident grin on their face.
"Yeah, riiiight. How about you actually do something threatening before making simple empty thr-"
Hero was cut off by a sudden feeling- they brought a forearm up to block a strike from Villain, but instead of the expected punch, they felt a grab.
A... grab?
Hero froze in place for the slightest moment.
It was only a split second, but it felt like ages, as if their brain was desperately trying to to cling onto the brief moment. The slightest sensation.
Villain's touch was soft.
Yet, despite everything, the moment was still over far too quickly. Hero hardly even considered why Villain would go for a grab in the moment- by the time they processed the fact it was an attack, it was far too late.
Villain turned around to throw Hero against the concrete wall of the building behind them.
They let out a yelp of pain as they slammed backwards into the wall. After the touch, the motion of being thrown, the hard hit... Hero was far too disoriented to get back into action, let alone stay balanced. Unable to stand up, they just slid down against the wall with a small groan of pain until they found themself at a sitting position, defeated.
Villain let out a small, cocky giggle, stepping closer to Hero to look down at them.
Hero, while still rather disoriented, looked up to see Villain towering over them. ...Wow.
"Is that 'threatening' enough for you, sweetie~?" Villain taunted once more, looking down at the defeated Hero with cocky confidence. God, they loved the feeling of the weakened Hero looking up at them. Always felt nice to win against them.
Hero was already ignoring the pain.
Their brain latched onto that one word- one Villain didn't so much as emphasize saying, like it was nothing special.
Sweetie??
A pet name. A pet name??? Villain called them a pet name??? Sure, they've heard of it being used for taunting before, and really never thought much of it, but- but something about it felt so, so different. When was the last time they were acknowledged like that? Was there a last time? Why did just being acknowledged feel so good? Fuck, they shouldn't like this, they were beat up and lying against a wall with their arch nemesis towering over them, taunting them, but- but not k-killing them? It shouldn't feel... c-comforting, should it?...
...'Sweetheart'...
Villain just looked down at Hero, their cocky expression switched to mild confusion. They certainly didn't react like they were in much pain... Hero's face wasn't that red before, was it?
"Hm. Losing focus agai-"
Hero shook their head 'no' almost instantly, cutting Villain off in mild surprise. They were definitely paying attention, alright, but...
Villain slightly cocked their head at Hero, thinking for a moment. The pause was only a second or two, though. They were quick to get back to teasing, assuming they were simply overthinking a weird reaction.
"Hmmm~" they muttered, crouching down to get level with their defeated rival, keeping that same smug, satisfied look.
"See? I could've taken you out like that aaany time I wanted~"
Hero looked off to the side, as if trying to hide from the other's gaze- Villain's confidence only grew seeing the embarrassment they wanted out of Hero.
At least, what they saw as embarrassment. While that certainly was an aspect of it... it wasn't why Hero's attention diverted like that. Their thoughts weren't the feelings of humiliation and defeat Villain assumed.
An entirely different focus was on their mind.
A thought?
A worry?
A feeling, or the lack of one?
It could be any of them. It could depend on the circumstance. It could technically fall under every one of them, with the right logic.
Hero didn't know nor care.
All they knew is what it felt like right now.
It's a fear.
A fear of this. This emotion.
The first time in memory they've felt so... acknowledged, so strangely comfy- the only time they could have this feeling was when their nemesis was using it to taunt them. The only thing they were ever really seen or known for is their protection of the city. The Agency was obviously impersonal and corporate, other Heroes saw them as an antisocial business partner, the citizens of course only liked them for the protection, and they had nobody else outside of that despite their years of previous efforts.
The only value others saw in them was the tangible benefit they provided. The only value they saw in themself was just that. They so, so badly wanted this feeling of comfort, but they so, so deeply believed they didn't deserve it.
Believed the only way they could ever be worth loving is when it was a punishment like this.
All Villain saw was Hero looking off to the side. Zoning out again? They mumbled something to themself, leaning down just a little more.
Hero didn't always used to do that. It had them worried, honestly. It only began somewhat recently, but it was absolutely constant.
Villain felt bad. Yeah, their public motive was always money or power or whatever evil plot they had for the week would accomplish, and while those certainty were good benefits, they weren't the reason they did it.
They did it for Hero.
They weren't joking when they said they were messing with them for fun earlier. It started as just a want to fight, but the second they came across Hero, they couldn't keep themself away. At first it was simply their fighting style being fun, as Villain justified it to themself. Then the wit in their banter was more entertaining than others. Then they provided the biggest challenge. Then... well, Villain couldn't deny a sense of warmth when they were around Hero.
They had so much personality, so much energy, but as time passed it felt like they got less so. Villain was almost scared to watch it. Not because it was more fun to fight them, but rather... well, they had to admit to themself they just didn't want to see Hero so thoroughly unhappy. So sapped of life.
Villain took one hand and gently swooped it under Hero's chin, turning their head back to face them and lifting their chin a little. Hero flinched a little, but didn't pull back.
"Hey. Pay attention, sweetie."
Hero's breathing got slightly quicker. Shallower. Starting off subtle, it ramped up.
Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit, hOLY SHIT, HOLY SHIT.
The feeling of Villain's hand was the best thing they'd ever felt. In their life. They didn't know anything could be this soft, any temperature could be this comforting and warm, that any grip could be so firm yet gentle, that any gaze could be so powerful yet soft- they were completely hyperventilating, tears welling in their eyes. They didn't want to trust it, but they wanted the comfort too badly to treat this rationally. They'd never felt anything so unbelievably wonderful. They wanted it so, so bad.
Villain couldn't stop themself from gasping. They certainly weren't expecting that reaction, but seeing Hero just break down like that, they were absolutely overcome with the heat of the moment need to just... protect them. Comfort them.
Only a moment later, the two simultaneously fell into an impulsive hug.
Villain squeezed Hero tightly against them as Hero buried their face in Villain's shoulder. Hero completely stopped thinking about their doubts- only one thing mattered right now, and that was Villain. It was so unbelievably comfy, warm, happy, soft, safe... years of built up serotonin was flooding out all at once, and it only got better as Villain brought one hand up from the hug to run it through Hero's hair.
They'd never been this much of an absolute mess. They'd never been this happy in their life.
Villain just continued holding Hero tight.
Minutes passed. Neither wanted the moment to end.
But finally, after what felt like years, Hero's breathing finally began to get deeper again. Villain let out a relived sigh, though didn't quite let go yet, allowing Hero's tears to dry and breathing to fully steady. Villain stayed patient as Hero got calmer and calmer until their desperate squeeze against Villain finally relaxed.
Hero felt the safest they ever had, and Villain couldn't be happier. The idea that they were rivals didn't even cross either of their minds- it just felt so right.
"...How're you feeling?"
Hero answered in a quiet, vulnerable, satisfied whisper, more emotion in their voice than Villain had ever heard.
"...n-needed this."
For the first time in ages, an entirely new focus was on Hero's mind.
A thought?
A worry?
A feeling?
They were certainly leaning towards it being a feeling.
That feeling was love.
226 notes · View notes
theauthorunicorn · 1 year ago
Text
1 A.M. | Gojo Satoru
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an unmistakable angst festering within me that I need to let out.
note: if i was to be asked what type of drabbles, fanfic that i could and would read in my lifetime, I'll choose angst, that undescribed feeling that you wanted to punch the wall and angrily shout at someone. anyway, enjoy! reblogs, comments and like is really appreciated :)
not proof read
word count: 1128 word (wow)
Gojo Satoru x Reader
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Satoru can't be explained in few words, if you can describe him, you'll be lost in your own words. Before, there were days that you only look at him, afar, adoring and silently loving him. But, for the past few years he is, was yours and you were his.
It didn't take long for him to fall in love with you, with his best friend out of the picture you gladly fill out the empty vastness within him. Shoko was there as well but you gave him the kind of attention that he needed that time.
For the past few months, you've been noticing the distance between the two of you. You assured yourself that you may be feeling this way since you've never seen each other and spent time together. Satoru also promises that the missions had been taking him to places and made him tired, so he'll just stay on his apartment to rest and will see you soon - this promise were also accompanied by mumbled I miss you and whispers of I love you's.
Late Saturday evening you're both watching the TV. You leaned comfortably in the sofa scanning the channels to land on a perfect show while Satoru was laying on your lap maybe asleep.
A long sigh broke the silence, "I'm sorry," you lowered down the volume, "I just can't find a good show."
He hummed in agreement, "Nah, your good." He said as he traced line over your skin.
"Do you think I changed?" Satoru asked without looking at you.
"What do you mean? Physically or what?" You played together with his antics.
"I mean, you spent a lot of time waiting for me and then I'll just call or text you that I will not be coming or even ditching our dates just because I was busy."
He noticed it too, "Uhm, I guess I understand your tired and missions had been longer and tiring, you know, so, I also try to understand it." You answered him.
"I just want you to know Y/N that I still feel the same way as when I first met you." He muttered. You can see that his trying to give you the assurance through his words that he can't physically show you.
But how long can you stay.
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You're both standing face to face as you bit your lips as you hold on to your tears, "You know what Y/N sometimes, no, honestly you suffocate me!" Satoru shouted, "How many times did I told you that we were just out drinking and you're here at my house demanding why I did not spend time with you instead? I do get a chance to choose how I spend my time right? I did not sign up for being with you all the time. Fuck, you're so annoying and clingy."
Long arguments with Satoru had been frequent. You're hurt, his word hurt, his gaze towards you hurts everything right now with Satoru hurts. You look at him trying to compose yourself if you should yell at him too, slap him, punch his pretty face, or just say -
"I'm sorry Satoru," you sighed, "I should not come here and demand your attention," you said slowly, "Yeah, missions and stuff is always the priority, right? We need to do that. I understand and I'm really sorry about -"
He looked at you without any emotions, maybe even regret about earlier instead of stopping he continues, "I hate that sometimes I get sick of you, Y/N. Fuck." He curses. The last words he said was so cruel and potent.
"I'm sorry again, Gojo." You look at him one last time trying to hold your tears. "I better get going, you need to rest." You walked away from him with a deep sigh and tears falling on your cheeks. It's one a.m. he should be asking you to stay and fix this mess, but he didn't. You walked away from the man that you loved the most that you let him break your heart a thousand pieces.
Thirty minutes passed you arrive in your apartment you phone pings, "Text me if your home, Y/N." You read it as tears falling in your screen. You left Gojo on read.
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You avoided Gojo after that night like a plague. Shoko asked you if everything was fine since Gojo had been asking about you through her. You simply smiled at her with hollow eyes and said that you just had a small argument with him, and everything is fine.
You lied to Shoko, and she knows that too.
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A week after that night you are avoiding Gojo had come to an end. A meeting was arranged to all staff to discuss an important matter. You tried to prolong your current mission to miss the meeting but -
"The meeting won't start without you in it." Shoko said softly over the phone.
"Why?" You chuckled, "It's not that I'm that important. You can just take note the minutes and pass it along."
"Yeah, I tried to stall them, but everyone is here waiting for you. Nanami is annoyed why your ass is still not here, Y/N."
"Fuck." You curse, "I don't want to be there, -"
"Are you coming or not?" Satoru asked you as he snatched Shoko's phone, that's only the reason why you're hearing his voice after a week.
You sighed, "I am. I'm just finishing this. Tell them to give me 15 minutes and I'll be there." You answered plainly.
"Where are you? I could come and get you instead."
"No, no need. I'm done." You end the call.
You were panting as you run across the Jujutsu Tech. You know you're a mess, hair in a messy bun, a cut on your cheeks, a bruise in your arm and thighs.
You opened the door and all eyes on you, "This meeting better be so important that you all required me to sit in after a fucking mission." You rolled your eyes and grab the nearest chair to sit between Nanami and Shoko.
Gojo stood up and walked towards you, "Are you even okay, Y/N. We could let Shoko check you first -"
"No, I'm not okay Gojo," you hissed at him, "just fucking start this meeting so I could rest." You tried to smile sweetly at everyone.
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"You are calling Satoru, Gojo is not heard for years, babe. What happened?" Shoko asked as you let her tend your injuries at her clinic.
"I'm just tired and that meeting could have been an email, you know, Kento even agrees." You motion to Nanami sitting across.
"And humor me, why Satoru is off limits here? He's like a stray cat outside waiting for you."
"Let him be."
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You walked out and thanked Shoko for her assistance. True to her words Gojo was there sitting like a stray cat waiting for you. You did not acknowledge his presence and walk on the opposite way to which he was sitting. He noticed you while closing the door but the lack of attention to him proves that you're not really talking to him.
Instead, he followed you through the halls of Jujutsu Tech and stopping as well when your students stopped and said hi to you.
"Y/N-sensei, how are you?" Nobara asked, "I heard that you were hurt, and they still let you attend a meeting." She pouted.
"I'm fine." You assured her, "and were still watching that movie tomorrow, okay?"
"Okay sensei, and why is Gojo-sensei following you like a lost cat." She whispers. You shrugged and smile and continue walking.
You can still hear his steps following you. You completely ignored him. You wanted to do this to let him taste his own medicine. You stopped your tracks and grabbed your phone to call a cab.
Gojo snatched your phone, "I already called one. Let's just wait for our ride here."
"What do you mean our ride? I'm going home to rest, I'm tired." You demand him to hand your phone back.
"Yeah, were going home -"
"What the fuck, Gojo." You snarled at him.
"It's Satoru, Toru, babe or baby for you, love." He corrected his own name.
"You're so self-centered, you know that don't act like you fucking love me when you fucking told me about many nights before that you're re sick of me, that I'm so annoying and you're tired. I'm tired right now so can you please leave me."
"I know I was self-centered that night and I got so mad and lost my cool but it's because I'm just tired. I wanted to talk to you, but you avoided me like a plague, I don't even know what you were up to. I had to check with Shoko or Nanami to check what are you doing. I hate myself for saying such cruel things to you, you know it's not true right? You know that I feel the same way for you every day, even if I failed to show it to you, it's still the same. My heart aches when I think about you. The things that I have said - I'm really sorry, love."
"How much longer do you want me to be in pain, Gojo?" You asked him.
"It's Satoru even if you're mad at me," he shakes his head, "what? I don't want you to be in pain."
Gojo saw your pretty eyes saying that everything is over, you and he are done but he denies it. Your indifferent now, cold and as if you're digging a grave to bury all the memories that you had with him. Gojo still denies it.
"We're done. I'm breaking up with you and you don't get a chance to say anything after what I've been through. I think about this for a past couple of days, Gojo. I'm done with you, I'm not sorry for this."
Gojo Satoru remained on his foot as he watched you walking away. Although all of him is breaking down because of you he doesn't have anything as of now to let you stay. But he knows deep down in this life, journey and world in which nothing last forever -
It's only you for him.
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angstysebfan · 2 years ago
Text
Was It A Mistake - Part 1
Pairing: Bucky x Fem Reader Chapter Summary: You and Bucky broke up but still remained friends. When you go on a shopping trip with your best friend, you learn a devastating thing. Warnings: Angst (duh its me lol), Arguments
Series Masterlist
You punch the punching bag in a series of combinations. Sweat dripping from your head and y/h/c hair. You’re the only one in the gym right now, but you knew that would change. You had a standing sparing appointment with your favorite super soldier.
Everyone in the tower thought it was weird that you and Bucky remained such good friends. You both dated for 3 years, and were hot and heavy. You realized the last six months, of your relationship, Bucky was pulling away from you. It broke your heart; so you decided distance yourself also, in preparation of him breaking up with you. You couldn't take the stress of waiting for him to break it off, so you begrudgingly did it. It completely killed you, but he didn't seem ultimately ruined, and you both decided to continue just being friends.
You were nervous that it would be awkward, but it wasn’t. You were just happy he was still in your life. You know you still loved him, but sometimes that's not enough. You were obviously not enough. That thought runs through your mind as you punch. You shake your thoughts from your head as you heard the gym doors close behind you.
“Tiring yourself out before I even get a chance to beat you fairly, doll?”
You turned around and see Bucky walking over the the bench to place his water and towel down. He's wearing navy blue basketball shorts that hung perfectly low on his hips, and as usual, no shirt. You couldn’t help admire the beautiful specimen in front of you.
“Ha, just warming up Buck. Don’t worry, I still have enough energy to kick your ass!” You yell, while pulling the tape off your hands.
You grab your towel and water and walk over to him, drinking and wiping your sweat.
He laughed, “Whatever you say. Shall we?” He asked walking toward the sparring mats.
After 30 minutes, and Bucky taking you out for the 5th time, you gave up. He offered his hand to help you get up. “One day… I’ll get you down… mark my words.” You say through your panted breath.
Bucky laughed. “Can’t wait.”
You both walk over the bench to grab a drink. You wipe your face with your towel when you hear the doors to the gym. Nat walks over to you both. “Hey guys!” She says smiling. 
“Hey Nat, you still up for shopping later?” you ask.
“Absolutely! Meet me in the common room at 1?” She asks.
You nod as you take a drink. You start walking out of the gym when you notice Nat and Bucky give each other knowing smirk and whispering to each other. It makes you feel uneasy, but ignore it as you head out to shower.
Later that day, you and Nat are shopping at the local mall. You sit outside the changing room as Nat tries on a new red dress. She comes out and looks in the mirror, turning at different angles to admire herself. You can’t help but notice how gorgeous she is. The dress fits her curves perfectly.
“Oh Nat, you definitely need to get that!” You say with a smile.
“Yeah, I think I will. It will be absolutely perfect.” She said as she turns and looks over the shoulder to see how it looks.
“Perfect for what?” You ask.
Nat looks at you through the mirror. You can see she looks… nervous? She turns toward you and gives you a small smile. “Bucky asked me out on a date. We've been hanging out a lot lately, and we wanted to finally give dating a try.”
Your jaw and stomach dropped. You can already feel the tears forming, but you internally yell at yourself to keep it together. You knew you weren't good enough. You would never be enough! You take a deep breath and close your eyes for a moment, willing the tears to disappear. When you open you see Nat still looking at you, waiting for your reaction.
“U-uh, wow! I, um, I-I didn’t know you guys… were…were talking.”
You cringe at your shaking voice. Nat looks at you with minimal sympathy in her eyes, which pisses you off. You didn't understand how this happened. Nat knew what happened between you and Bucky, as she was your best friend. You confided in her about everything, including that you are still in love with him. And now you learn she has been moving in on him and they are going on a date?!
“It wasn’t a planned thing. I swear, and I'm sorry I didn’t tell you. I know should've, but I’m…” She trails off, looking down at her hands. You have never seen her look so nervous. 
“You’re what, Natalia?” You say slowly standing, getting angrier.
She looks at you. “I’m falling for him, hard. And he told me that he's falling for me too.”
She might as well had slapped you in the face. You grab your bags without saying another word and left. You ignore her calls for you. You finally let the tears come down your face as you head out to grab a cab to head back to the tower. 
-
You try to control yourself as you ride the elevator up to the residential floors of the tower. As soon as you walk out, you see him with a concerned look on his face. You figured Nat called him and told him what happened, but you couldn’t deal with him right now. Just looking at him caused the tears to come down. You quickly turn and head to your room.
“Y/N, please. Don’t run away from me,” You hear him call.
You try and outrun him, but he was so much faster. Before you even got a chance to close the door, he pushed his way into your room.
“Get out!” You scream.
He looks devastated. You've never yelled at him, even when you guys fought when you were together. “Y/N, please. Talk to me,” he begs.
He was so confused by your reaction. You're the one who broke his heart. He was ready to marry you and then was told that you wanted to end things with him. It crushed him, so he distanced himself, hoping to ease the pain. You eventually did end it, and asked to be friends. He didn’t fight it because he was hoping you would change your mind. He has been miserable for months, pretending to be friends with you, when all he wanted is to be with you.
Nat helped him by being there and listening to him whine about how much he missed you. He opened up to her about feeling like he wasn't enough, and she showed him that he was enough for her. He couldn’t help but start developing feelings. Nat was the only one who knew how he felt about you, but is still willing to try with him. Willing to help him move on from you.
“Please….” he whispered, on the verge of tears.
A sob escapes your lips. “Buck… why? Why Nat? Why my best friend?”
You knew it didn’t matter who he was dating, but you needed to know why her. He shook his head, sniffing. 
“When you broke up with me, I-I was miserable. I didn’t know what to do. Nat was there, and she let me confide my feelings to her. As time went on, I started to develop feelings. I…. I didn’t think you would care! You didn’t want to be with me! You were the one who wanted to be friends! I’m sorry, but I didn't think you'd care," he said the last part in a whisper as he silently cried.
You were confused as you took in what he said. He was miserable? I broke his heart? He didn't want to break up? He confided in Nat, while you also confided in Nat? You look at him in shock. He was confused by your reaction. 
“I… I don’t understand. You became distant, which is why I broke up with you. I thought you didn’t want me anymore; that I wasn't enough for you. I thought us being friends was better than losing you all together.” You said. Bucky stares at you confused. “Nat… Nat talked to you about us?” You asked, and Bucky silently nodded. 
Betrayed. That was the word that went through your mind. Your so-called best friend knew that both you and Bucky still loved each other, but kept it quiet so she could take him. You couldn’t believe it! Bucky obviously didn’t realize what was happening either.
“I…. I need to think.” Bucky said, leaving you alone in your room.
You couldn’t move. All you kept thinking was that there was miscommunication somewhere between you and Bucky, and neither of you actually wanted to break up. Nat knew this, but kept it quiet and made a move on Bucky. But why did Bucky become distant in the first place? There are so many questions in your head that you can barely think straight. You had to get to the bottom of this, somehow.
One thing you already know is, Nat back stabbed you. You will never forgive her for this.
--
Part 2
What do we think? No matter what it's messed up to go after your besties ex. Feedback is appreciated.
Permanent Taglist: @rebekahdawkins @marajade1974 @missvelvetsstuff @phillygirl77 @pattiemac1 @winterslove1917 @vampire7595
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she-whatshername · 23 days ago
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this is dark so i get if you don’t wanna go there but what would xaden, garrick, bodhi and liam be like comforting a reader who just went through a traumatic experience?
Don’t we all need a little comforting after this weeks past events in the fictional and real life non fictional world. I’ll try my best to keep this light, and full of comfort. Because I know they’d all be such gems at this.
Xaden:
I have not finished Onyx Storm so no spoilers but wow, I did not realize what a fucking sweetie Xaden is
Yes, I am late to the party on this, but I bring the best snacks so let me in lolol
I could see Xaden reacting one of two ways when he finds out about the experience
One - he loses his beautiful fucking mind and goes hard on revenge. Trying to keep calm while you explain but simmering on the inside. In fact he doesn’t let you finish before he gets up, kisses your forehead and walks to the door to take care of business. Whoever or whatever hurt you, its their last time
Two - he’s in comfort mode. Pulling you in to a deep hug, kissing the top of your head. Running soothing circles on your back or just listening quietly, giving you space to talk. He’s so fucking gentle with you.
I also think Xaden’s got a plan up his sleeve for you. If you’re at Basgiath and say, you go through something traumatic. You loose a member of your squad, you just get out of RSC interrogation, etc. You know you can’t break in public, so you’re holding it in. So, he takes you into the forests that surrounds campus after classes wrap and towards a clearing. Unbeknownst to you, you walk right into a warded dome that’s hidden to the eye. The dome is soundproof. You turn, realizing he’s on the other side and start pounding to get out. But Xaden is there, lifting is fingers to say “No one can hear. Grieve, scream, punch the barrier. You’re safe. Let it out. I’ll be here when you’re done.” He turns to give you privacy, and you spend the next fifteen minutes doing just that. When you’re done, you sign at him to release you, and he pulls you into loving embrace
Garrick
This man. This dimpled man right here
This sweet giant
Like Xaden, he’s thinking revenge. And will probably use the leverage he has either on campus and as Xaden’s right hand to see it through.
But what I love best about the made up facts I made for Garrick is that I bet he is the best diffuser.
I have a scenario I need to finish writing but i image that you’ve experienced the trauma and you’re not alright. You’ve been wounded during a patrol during the Riorson House days and you’ve fallen after getting stabbed in the side. You’re in shock, panic and pain taking over you. Garrick is at your side in an instant, cupping your face and in his hands, “Baby! Baby, look at me…there you go. You’re alright, you’re alright - no. No you’re not going to die. I’m here, yeah? You have to breathe, I know it hurts but look at me. Take a breath…good, good - don’t close your eyes, love. Keep them here, on me, okay? Don’t be falling asleep on these good looks, the boys will never let me down for this. Help is coming baby, Hold on…”
I’d be like “okay!” Lolol
Garrick also seems like someone who would give you space. He wouldn’t be constantly at your side but when you pass each other or at meals he’s always looking in your direction and waiting for you to give him indication that you’re feeling better or not.
Bodhi
A true sweetheart
Kind
Caring
Gentle
Compassionate
And maybe a little protective, but we need that now. And he’s ready to give it to us.
Bodhi is such a great combination of knowing what you need and giving you confidence to say what you want.
I totally imagining him sitting next to you saying “How can I help?” And if you’re too shocked or scared to say anything he’s asking, “I have a few ideas in mind, can I try something?” And the moment you nod he’s giving you exactly what you need to help feel calm and protected. He just knows you that well. If affection and touch is what you need, he’s pulling you close, and wrapping his arms around you, physically putting himself between you and the outside world. His embrace is protective.
He’s also in full caretaker mode. If we’re in the Aretia days he’s pulling you into his room, drawing you a bath in his private bathing chamber, setting out clothes for you to wear and helping you get in bed to rest. He’s bringing up food from the halls, and picking up on any missed assignments or missives.
He will also just cancel his schedule if you need him to. If part of taking care of you is being with you, done. Everyone else can wait.
At bedtime, he’s curling up next to you, kissing your shoulder and rubbing your back to help you sleep. If you need space, the bed is your’s and he’s curled up on a chair at you side for when you need him.
Also I know his bedside manner is just top tier. The way this man will give your verbal affirmation after verbal affirmation. Yes.
Like Garrick can help bring your emotions down, Bodhi is helping to lift you up
Liam
Very much like Xaden i believe
But i think what Liam excels at is distracting through storytelling.
If you’re feeling overwhelmed with the trauma. Whether you are healing body or mind he’s sitting next to you, carving up something and just talking. He’s got a story for every emotion you may be feeling. If its grief, he’s telling you about the days when he lost his parents, or losing contact with his sister. If you need a funny story to distract you, he has one of those.
I can imagine he throws Xaden under the bus if you will, sharing a funny story when they fostered together at Xaden’s expense, “And if Xaden can fall on his ass and get scared shitless, you can too, love. We’re human after all.”
Though, he’s also giving Xaden praise as well, “If I didn’t have Xaden…I dont know how I would have gotten through those years after my parents, after being taken away from Sloane. But, just like Xaden was there for me, I’m here for you. I’ll always be.”
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