#yeah uh sorry again about getting really dark with this | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

thesacrificialdove · 2 months ago

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tags two cocks, hypnosis, kidnapping, dub-con, praise kink, light sub naga, oviposition, breeding kink, aftermath of mind control, altered memories

—📜" Making your way back to the campsite, a kind stranger guides you back to where you're needed. With him

Recounting your steps would be futile. It’s best for you to leave fate like this.

It got dark too quickly and you still haven’t traversed your way back to the camp. A short trip to your van for some extra supplies became a longer task than you anticipated it to. You can barely see the sun anymore. The trees start to look the same. Your lamp feels like it’s about to go out any second now.

The camping materials hold you back severely. Your shoulder aches and the cooler in both of your hands are heavy. Watching the sunset, you drop the cooler below a landmark tree. Four scratches. You don’t exactly know what caused those scratches, but whoever did it, they marked your path back to your friends.

With a sigh, you bend over to carry the cooler again—

“You need help with that?”

The cooler drops to your feet, making you scream out. The person, who materialised out of nowhere, comes up to you. “Sorry, are you okay? I didn’t mean to startle you.”

The man looks concerned. His eyebrows furrow as he stares at you. It’s alright. It’s just… someone.

“Oh,” you say, wincing as you hold yourself up against a tree. ��I’m alright, I guess. Are you, uh, camping here too?”

He smiles. His teeth are white and he has little fangs like your little sister. It’s cute. “Yeah, just by the lakeside,” he says.

You haven’t seen another tent on the lake. You’d know since you and your friends are stationed there. Maybe he’s more camouflaged. “Oh, uh, actually, me and my friends are there too. If it’s not too much of a bother…—”

“You want me to take you there?” he says, practically reading your mind. “Yeah. It’s getting dangerous out at night.” He approaches you, looking around the forest with cautious eyes. “Let me lead the way, yeah? Just follow me and you won’t get lost.”

You nod. He doesn’t look away from you and you don’t either. When he turns to the path, you follow his figure closely. You feel lighter now. The equipment doesn’t seem so heavy anymore… Did you forget something?

He asks you, “You guys staying for long?”

“Ah, well, for a bit. We leave tomorrow morning.”

“Really?” he laughs. “I’ve already been here a while and I never wanna leave,” he jokes. You think that to be true. He turns to look back at you, seeing as you struggle behind him. He reaches out, “Let me get that for you so that you won’t worry about carrying anything.”

You nod. Your backpack, your lamp, all of it goes to him. He smiles as you catch up to him.

You think you’re reaching the lake right about now. You remember seeing another landmark earlier. You think you were supposed to take a turn—but he hasn’t, right? He knows where to go. He knows what to do. You should trust him. You should trust him.

The night looks darker. Did the lamp run out?

He’s not holding anything. He’s not looking at you anymore.

“Hey,” you call out, looking around, “Are we…?”

“Yeah, we’re almost there,” he assures. “Come on. Hurry now. I can hear your friends from here.”

You don’t hear them. The wind threatens the both of you for a moment, the breeze coming along with it. He takes your hand to guide you forward. You think you hear them now.

There’s something in the distance. It looks like a cave. “Ri-i-ight over there,” he drags out, hands in his pockets as you both stand outside of it. “Your friends are calling for you there.”

It’s too dark to see them. It must be later in the night now. You can hear their voices. They’re calling for you. They’re calling your name. You can hear them so vividly. Get in the cave.

Get in the cave.

Listen to me.

Get in the cave.

Darkness envelops you with each step forward. They’re closer now. The footsteps behind you feel distant. Yet, you feel the warmth of a body pressed against you. You can feel the air against your neck, like soft whispers and heavy breathing.

You call out one of your friend’s names. It echoes in the cave.

“They’re here, sweetheart,” someone whispers behind you. He's the kind man. “It’s getting late. You need to change into sleepwear, hm? Take your bottoms off for me.”

There’s nothing you can see in the dark. You feel around for your pants as you start to unbutton them. Another pair of hands come to hold yours, guiding you where to pull and where to unzip. It helps you take them off.

“You look very nice,” you’re lowered to the ground, “sweetheart, you look very nice. Can you lay on your front for me?”

The kind man allows you to the cold floor. You feel nice. Just a bit sleepy. He keeps you up with his hands going up and down your body. “Wish you could see yourself,” he says, pushing your top up—revealing your chest—” you look beautiful. Absolutely beautiful.”

You can hear something in the background. It sounds almost terrifying. Like the sounds of rubber stretching, the peeling of the skin, and small little grunts that echo throughout. Still, you’re soothed by the kind man who shushes you calmly.

“It’s alright, I just wanna…” he trails off, shifting you around so you’re laying on—something. It’s smooth yet hard beneath you. It’s cold, too cold. “...sweetheart?”

Has he been calling your name the entire time? You can’t really speak. You try to open your mouth but it’s too heavy. You’re lightheaded.

“It’s okay, just wanted to make sure you’re still here,” he says, “I wanna ask you something, just nod or shake your head, yeah?”

You nod.

“Do you like your friends?”

You nod.

“Do you truly want to see them again?”

You nod.

“Then can you help me out? Just for a moment, just for a little while.”

…You nod.

His chuckle is all you hear before he pulls you up. You can hear something dragging behind him. Once you’re pressed against the wall, you continue to hear it as something slides against you. You can’t move. You can’t feel your arms.

The panic settles in and he’s trying so hard to keep you calm. He whispers unintelligible things to you as something goes tighter, almost making you unable to breathe. It’s tight against your stomach and your shoulders. You can still feel your legs but you can’t move them. You won’t. You won’t move them.

“Stay still,” he says. “Just help me since I helped you, okay? Just one small thing.

“I need to mate with you,” the coils around you tighten, “I need to use you for a while and I promise I’ll return you to your friends. Just make me good for a bit, okay? You got that, sweetheart?”

You let out a little noise. He doesn’t say more as you feel air caress your now bare cunt. It surprises you. “I’ll try to prepare you.”

Something prods against your hole. It’s dry but you feel that you’ve already started leaking. He moans, “Already feeling good? I’m so glad. You’re gonna enjoy this, I promise.”

It pushes inside of you. Your breath gets choked out of you as you feel it massaging deep inside of you. Your legs shake as you struggle with it constantly rubbing against your G-spot. It’s playing it so easily that you can’t help but moan.

“Doing so good for me,” he says, his voice suddenly on your neck as the coils around you loosen. “Gonna put another in.”

He’s true to his word. Another thing goes inside your pussy and now you’re being scissored open. Your legs quiver hard. “So fucking wet,” he moans, “I wanna put my cocks inside of you. I wanna keep you with my eggs stuck inside. Fu-u-u-uck..!”

You cry out as the things inside of you fuck you. It thrusts relentlessly and makes you accustomed to the feeling of being stretched wide. It’s driving you crazy how it reaches so deep inside of you like an actual cock.

“I’m sorry,” he says suddenly, the thing inside of you pulling away. “I’m so sorry. I need to fuck you. I’m about to fucking burst and it hurts!”

You’re pulled up a little before something wet touches you. You moan, the slickness of it cold and almost uncomfortable. He whines in your ears as it rubs between your folds desperately.

“Sweetheart, I’m gonna fuck you with my cock, okay?” he says, something—his cock spreading slickness all over your cunt. “I’ll be gentle later. But you’re so good for me, so pliant, so fucking delicious—!”

He gets cut off by both of your moans. You scream out as you feel his cock stretch you. His fingers aren’t enough as you feel him split you open. The heat inside of you is warming you from the inside out, threatening to burn you alive.

“O-oh,” he moans, the coils tightening you, “that’s only one cock. I can’t wait to feel your ass on my other one.”

You don’t get to process his words as the coils around you guide you up and down on his cock. You’re stuck moaning without a name. His cock feels like your entire first, punching you in and out without mercy as he chases his orgasm.

In front of you, he’s panting. He’s going mad with the feeling of being inside of you. Every part of him feels like it's losing as you clench around him, unaccustomed to his size.

“So… tight~!” he moans, thrusting his hips along, “so fucking good. I wanna feel you take all of me. I wanna see you carrying my eggs so much. I wanna fill you up please..!”

He’s mumbling incoherent things as something slaps you from your behind. It feels like his other cock. You don’t panic. Instead, you feel tenfold the arousal as it pokes you at your dry rear.

It doesn’t push in. You know he’s disappointed with the way he’s crying out as he fucks your pussy harder.

“...so much. Wanna fill you up so much,” he moans, a sound coming from the back of his throat like a hiss. “I need to train you on my cock and make you never wanna leave. You’ll never need anyone else but me! Only—only me!

“Fuck, you feel so good, sweetheart.” His hips don’t stutter as you’re being suffocated again. You’re dizzy. You can feel yourself losing air in your brain as your cunt gets railed over and over again. The buds inside of you are getting rubbed to their most sensitive degree as you can feel him in your stomach. It’s jarring. It’s terrifying.

It’s so fucking good.

You wanna stay here forever.

You wanna be trained on his cock

You never wanna leave.

You never need anything but him

Only him.

A cry escapes your throat as you squirt all over his cock. Your spams doesn’t make him stop. “Oh, fuck, you’re so cute!” he says, “you’re shaking. You’re—you’re so tight around me. I’m gonna make you a momma. You’ll never be able to let go of me after this, sweetie. You’re going to want me forever.”

Least expecting it, his cocks stretch you further. You let out a meek noise as it struggles to push something in. “N…no more,” you sob, your walls pushing against it as it tries to make itself home.

“It’s okay,” he hushes. You can feel his arms around you as the coils loosen. “Take a deep breath for me. You’re doing so good.” It pushes in more. “Be a good girl. Be a good momma, okay? Come on, take it!”

He thrusts into you one last time and you scream as something gets pushed inside. You pant, feeling something heavy stretch you inside. It feels like you’re throbbing inside. It feels like a heartbeat

“That’s so good, you’re so good. Such a good girl.”

For the first time, he kisses you. The first thing you feel is his tongue pushing against your lips. It fucks your mouth open as you feel it slither. It’s long and thicker than at least three of your fingers.

You gag. You can feel it against the back of your throat and you struggle to take it in. He tasted sweet. Is it supposed to taste this sweet?

He moans on top of you as he rubs his cock inside of you, pushing the thing inside of you a little deeper. He pulls out of the kiss and you’re left with a drool connecting the both of you. “Mmm, sweetheart, you taste so good. Do I taste good?”

He does. You nod lazily as your head falls into his shoulders. He laughs as he strokes your back. “It’s okay. I’m satisfied for now. I’m sorry I rushed, okay? When you come back next time, I’ll be more gentle. I’ll even make a nest for you and our child.”

Before your brain can catch up, you’re falling into the sweet comfort of his arms.

When you wake up, your friend ushers you awake.

“Get the fuck up, sleepyhead!” she yells. “You’ve been asleep for hours, we need to go soon!”

You groan, unwilling to wake up. Your body feels so sore. The sleeping bag wasn’t the best for camping, you’d guess. What a waste of purchase.

Outside, the birds are chirping and the sounds of the river are soothing. You’re gonna miss this place, not gonna lie. It’s like something would die in you if you were to leave. Then again, you’re very dramatic.

Your name is called. “Hey! Help me bring this stupid ass cooler! Jacob’s already carrying the other one.”

You put it up against your arms. Huh. You feel like you got a moment of déjà vu. It’s probably nothing. You shake your head, trying to get rid of the morning fog in your head.

Fuck. You think you need to check in at a hospital. You can barely walk and your stomach feels heavy. Maybe get someone to check in on you—...

No.

You can’t do that.

You can’t let anyone touch you down there.

Just need to return to the lake after a month and you’ll be good as new.

do not redistrubute this work as yours/without permission or feed to AI 📷 art by @ go_h_og

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gurugirl · 4 months ago

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The Babysitter | dad!harry x babysitter!reader

Based on this request (changed some things - hope you still like it anon!)

Summary: The cute babysitter Harry's wife hired has always tempted him, but now that his wife is away for the evening Harry might just give in.

Word Count: 2,011

Warning: smut, cheating, implied age gap (your call on how large), inappropriate relationship (both consenting adults)

|main masterlist|

. . .

Harry was so fucked.

He knew better. A married man on the brink of ruining it all just for a taste of his kid’s babysitter. Truly, outrageously fucked.

He arrived home that day, knowing he’d have the house to himself all night with his wife gone out of town for a work trip. Knowing the cute babysitter would still be there, all doe-eyed and shy smiles. She definitely had a crush on him and he couldn’t stop thinking about that.

All day at work he went back and forth with the idea of it. The whole ‘fuck around and find out’ thing was more compelling when he might be able to get away with it. But it wouldn’t be worth it, he told himself even though he continued imagining what she’d feel like underneath him.

His actions completely contradicted that sound internal advice.

Because when he saw Y/n all cuddled up on his couch, a sweater draped over her shoulders and her bare legs stretched out long he allowed himself to stare for a moment. He shouldn’t have been thinking what he was but he couldn’t stop the blood rushing to his cock. He was going straight to hell for the kind of thoughts that were running through his head right then.

She slowly blinked her eyes opened and sat up with a sweet smile, “Hi. How was work?”

God, the cute, bubbly personality on her, even after just waking up from a nap… She hadn’t been tainted by years of grueling workplace drama and a sad and lonely marriage like he had and he found it refreshing.

“Was good. Uh,” he scratched the back of his neck, keeping his eyes on hers, “Everything go all right today here?”

She nodded and moved her legs off the couch, feet hitting the floor as she nodded, “He’s the sweetest. It was a good day. He kept asking for mom so I think he’s upset that she wasn’t here this morning but I told him she’d be back tomorrow night. Fast asleep now.”

But there was something in the way she was looking at him. Like she was just waiting for him to pounce. Rounded eyes, with that shy smile as she bit the edge of her bottom lip. Like she knew what he was thinking, her own mind filled with the same filthy scenarios.

It was late. Harry always got home late on Thursdays. After dark. After his son was already asleep, and usually it was his wife greeting him.

She parted her lips as she let her gaze lower to just below the buckle on his pants and then back up to his eyes.

“Yeah. We’ll be okay without her for a night,” Harry swallowed thickly as he sat his briefcase down and moved deeper into the living room next to the couch where Y/n was still seated. “What about you?”

“What about me?” She raised her brows as she craned her head to look up at him.

“I mean… you alright too? Still seated like you’re tired. You can stay if you want.”

She blinked her eyes and then did it again, letting her pupils connect with the space at his crotch before quickly bringing them back upward to his face, “Oh… I can go. I’m sorry…”

Y/n stood up quickly but Harry caught her by her arm, “It’s okay. You don’t have to go. I just wanted to make sure you’re alright. Was really helpful having you stay late tonight.”

If she kept looking at him like that, those fuck-me eyes and plush parted lips, he wasn’t going to be able to stop himself.

“Oh. I’m glad. Was happy to help you out, Harry. I’d do it as often as you needed me to.”

He grinned and watched her moisten her soft lips when she poked her tongue out and looked up at him through her lashes. If she wasn’t begging for it he didn’t know what this was.

“You gonna stay?”

She nodded, still looking up at him as she tucked her bottom lip into her mouth.

In a moment of weakness, of sheer insanity, he raised his hand up to her face and thumbed at her bottom lip, “What’s going on, Y/n? You got something to tell me?”

She fluttered her lashes and leaned into his touch as she kept her pupils aimed right at him. But then her lips parted again and Harry found himself sliding the tip of his thumb between her lips before she wrapped her mouth around it and he felt her tongue gently lave against his pad.

Now he was the one with parted lips as he watched his kid’s babysitter suck his thumb into her mouth, eyes pinned to his still.

And before he knew it, he found himself fucked in the figurative and literal sense as he had her face down on his mattress with his cock nudged into her so deep she was keening and hissing at the bite of pain his fat length was causing.

“Shhh… be a good girl and keep quiet, yeah?”

“Mmmm!”

It was so good. It was so fucking good. He hadn’t been laid in a couple of months and the babysitter’s pussy was better than he imagined it would be. She was wet for him right away. When he got her very short shorts off her legs and buried his face between her soft thighs she was already so sensitive and dripping, wiggling and moaning like she was just as pent up as he’d been. Like she wanted it just as bad. She’d made a big mess of him and the sheets but he’d deal with clean up later.

Because when he finally pushed his throbbing dick inside of her welcoming pussy it was game over. He had her hips in both hands, tightly gripping the meat at her sides as he buried in over and over again, letting her juice coat every inch and wet his pubes with her fragrance. He watched as he stuffed her with his cock, her cute ass perked upward and she pushed back on every one of his thrusts. So pretty.

Everything was slick and gushy as he plowed into her guts, slapping his hips into her ass. He kept looking at the bedroom door (which was closed and locked) out of habit just in case, but now he was out of his mind as she trembled and drooled against the pillow his wife used.

He slowed his plunges and watched his shaft as he pulled out, “Fuck… got me all creamy, baby. Why don’t you flip over so I can see your pretty face?”

She was shaky as she dropped down to the bed, scooting herself to adjust and then spreading her thighs as he tucked right back inside of her, pelvis dipping against her own.

“Harry…” Y/n quietly breathed as she watched him. He was so thick and long, just like she knew he’d be. She never thought he’d ever step out on his wife but here he was, with his big cock driving into her, making her squelch and stretch wide for him. She almost couldn’t believe it was happening.

Harry groped at her tit, still on his knees as he steadied himself, his thighs working in, “Oh sweet girl…” he panted, quads and glutes flexing with every motion. He picked up her hand and brought her fingertips to his mouth, kissing as he pumped himself through her walls and then dragging his lips down to her palm and then wrist.

“Oh my god…” she whined before draping her arm over her mouth to keep her volume down.

“Who knew you were so filthy? Look at you letting a married man fuck your brains out.”

A muffled moan sounded from her throat as she felt him jerk into her harder, the coarse hair at the base of his dick scratched at her clit before he began to grind his hips against her, adding friction like he knew that was what she was searching for with her hips rising to meet him with every thrust.

“But look at how lucky I am. So pretty… Hot little pussy, fuckin’ drenched, baby. How long were thinking about this, hmm?”

Harry did feel lucky too. Y/n was a hot little thing that he’d had some pretty dirty thoughts about since they first hired her. It was his wife’s choice. Y/n was in her senior year of university with long smooth legs and an adorable shy smile that caught him off guard the first time he saw her. So he always looked forward to seeing her every morning before leaving for work, or in the early evenings when he’d come home to relieve her.

Harry grabbed her other hand, moving her arm from her mouth as he brought those fingers up to his lips to kiss every one of them as he threaded their fingers together on her other hand, never stopping the movement of his hips.

With the back of her hand pressed into the blanket next to her shoulder, she inhaled sharply, trying to catch her breath. “Since I first met you…” she admitted.

Harry grunted, running his tongue along her wrist before folding his fingers into hers like her other hand and then pressing it down to the bed as he leaned over her, pelvis grinding against hers, his balls squeezing against her bum. And that was fucking deep.

“Oh yeah? Fuck, coulda been fucking this pretty pussy for the last few months. Making you come for being such a good girl and just for looking so fucking cute all the time.”

She moaned softly, “It feels so good…”

Harry grinned down at her, feeling her start to squeeze and pulse, “It does doesn’t it? Such a bad thing to feel this good. Might be trouble for us.”

“Mmmm…” she panted and then gasped as she was thrown over the edge, walls gripping and milking his cock.

Harry watched Y/n as she fell apart, “There you go, such a good girl, so pretty, baby…”

Harry gritted his teeth as he fucked her through her orgasm.

He was already leaking precome and practically shaking by the time he pulled himself out and pumped his fat cock right over her tummy. He’d have loved to have just come inside Y/n’s pussy but what he was doing was already dumb as it was.

He grunted and sucked in through his teeth, “Oh fuck…”

He’d gotten a little come on his knuckles as he ran his fist down his shaft, letting the last bits drip out onto the girl below him. A pretty sight. She was all fucked out and dazed, tits rising and falling with every breath, his come marking her tummy and her pussy freshly fucked, still soaked.

He was a gentleman, helped her clean up, and kissed her a little bit more before sending her on her way with a playful swat to her ass. He’d have loved to ask her to stay all night but he worried that that would just confuse things further. She promised she wouldn’t tell anyone and Harry said it wouldn’t affect her job and that it would be their secret. Though he did hope he’d have another chance to feel her again one day, he didn’t count on it. His wife was returning the following day and Y/n was soon to finish off her last year of college and she wouldn’t be needing a babysitting gig anymore.

Did he regret cheating on his wife? In that moment, he couldn’t say he did. He had fun and it felt so good to have sex with someone who wanted his cock as bad as Y/n did. He only hoped he didn’t get found out and as long as Y/n kept up her end of the bargain (he was sure she would) he figured the whole thing was a win.

He’d just need to keep himself in check around her when his wife was present. But when his wife wasn’t around he couldn’t promise anything.

. . .

PART 2

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uzurakis · 7 months ago

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hii again!! I’m here to request a Drabble/headcannon (doesn’t matter to me :3) where the reader gets approached by two strangers n one of them goes ‘hi my friend thinks you’re cute’ and motions to their friend next to them even though the jjk men (yuta and Megumi but feel free to add anyone else!) is literally RIGHT next to them (this happened during lunch a week ago n all my friends laughed at me 😭😭😭)

WHEN A STRANGER CALLS YOU CUTE IN PUBLIC!

featuring: gojo satoru. fushiguro megumi. yuuta okkotsu. itadori yuuji.

n. hi baby! i supposed you’re the same nonnie that requested the stalker one? thank you for trusting me with your requests cause yours are always enjoyable to write and your ideas are *french kiss*. i hope ya like this one and please if you have any ideas you wanna share, hmu! ill always write yours bby. mwaah xoxo

hey, excuse me! my friend thinks you’re cute . .

ITADORI YUUJI. you exchanged a surprised glance with itadori, who cracked a smile sheepishly. "oh yeah? thanks," he replied, clearly missing the implication. the stranger nudged their friend, urging them to speak up. "uh, yeah," offering a nervous smile. "you're really cute."

your boyfriend only chuckled, oblivious to their intentions. "right? my girlfriend is the cutest!” he said proudly, pinching your cheeks infront of them. “yuu, we’re in public..”

the strangers shared a bewildered look, realizing that their attempt to strike up a conversation with you had been unintentionally thwarted. "uh, yeah, you’re really lucky," the stranger managed to mumble before they awkwardly excuse themselves and slipped back into the crowd.

you and itadori watched them go, bemused expressions on your faces. "did you catch what they were trying to do?" you asked, stifling a laugh. itadori shook his head, still clueless. "nah, but it doesn't matter. i already know who the cutest one here is," he said, planting a kiss on your cheek, causing you to giggle at his oblivion.

GOJO SATORU. before you could respond, gojo stepped forward, subtly clearing his throat. you shot him a puzzled look, wondering what he was up to. “yeah? well, she's taken," declaring at once, voice laced with amusement as he wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him.

the strangers kept eyeing you curiously, seemingly undisturbed by the statement he made. "oh really? too awful," one of them remarked, maintaining a smile.

gojo raised an eyebrow, exchanging a knowing glance with you. it was clear they weren't getting the hint. with a sigh, he cleared his throat again, this time louder, as he firmly took your hand and started to lead you away. “sorry, folks, but we're kinda busy," your boyfriend said with a charming smile, gently steering you in the opposite direction.

as you both walked away, gojo grinned down at you. "just making sure they know who you belong to, darling,” he said, pulling you closer as you continued your walk through the path.

FUSHIGURO MEGUMI. you immediately glanced nervously at megumi beside you. however, your boyfriend remained silent, his expression unreadable as he gazed at the strangers.

unsure of how to reply, you gave the stranger a hesitant smile. megumi didn't express his jealousy, but it was obvious that he was still very much in the dark about it. the stress was literally radiating off of him. "um, thank you," you managed to murmur, feeling awkward under megumi's scrutiny.

the strangers seemed unfazed by megumi's silence, continuing to chat amicably with you. they asked questions, trying to engage you both in conversation, but megumi remained aloof, his attention solely focused on you. you glanced at him, catching the tightness in his jaw and the furrow in his brow. he was clearly uncomfortable, but he didn't make a move to pull you away from the strangers. rather, he only stood there, sulkily contemplating.

sensing his unease, you subtly shifted closer to him, hoping to offer some reassurance. megumi glanced down at you, his gaze softening ever so slightly before returning to the strangers, "hey, you done talking?" he shot at the strangers with thinly veiled irritation.

he then sighed, a hint frustration crossing his features. without another word, he gently took your hand and pulled you away from the conversation, his grip firm but not forceful. as you walked, you stole a glance at megumi, finding his expression softened slightly, his jealousy dissipating now that you were out of the strangers' reach. “i didn’t feel it like has to be said, but,” a tint of red swelled on his face, his eyes denying your gaze. “yeah, you’re always pretty. and if you need someone to say it, just,”

“just ask me, okay?”

YUTA OKKOTSU. you responded with a timid smile, sensing yuuta's comforting presence beside you. he let out a soft chuckle, his laughter soothed the situation as you thanked the compliment. "i appreciate it.”

yuuta's casual reaction didn’t appear to dismiss the strangers, as they continue to strike up a discussion as though you’ve been friends for years. while yuuta stays a silent yet watchful presence, they kept the questions going.

after a while, yuuta's smile widened, his eyes crinkling with amusement as he glanced at his watch. "it was fun talking to you guys," he said, his tone gentle but firm. "but me and my girlfriend need to be somewhere else."

you blinked in surprise at his sudden intervention, but the strangers took it in stride and finally offering their farewells. after they walked away, you turned to yuuta, curiosity piqued by his unexpected assertiveness.

"you’re not going to say anything about it?” you commented, impressed by his ability to not get jealous or anything else in between. yuuta brushed your hair, his gaze warm with affection. "cause they weren’t wrong though. you are the cutest.”

@uzurakis — reqs are open! <3

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racew1nn3rs · 4 months ago

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─ 𝘴𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘦 𝘪𝘷. (𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘨𝘶𝘦𝘴) 🐅

⤷ summary: spain and canada. lando's rizz is negative, mission is failed. plus, mclaren pr is about to fuck shit up 🗣️

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liked by ynusername, zbrownceo, and 42,908 others

mclaren spain you were forgettable at best 😔 on to the next one

18,980 others

user1 y/n don't insult your team on the team account challenge

mclaren is it really an insult if it's true

user2 we got a lando photo but at what cost

user3 lando fans can never win here

mclaren why you would ever choose to be a lando fan to begin with is beyond me

user2 you're so right queen i'm sorry

landonorris DON'T APOLOGIZE WTF

user2 fuck both of y'all honestly

user4 at least mclaren fans can always count on content, even if we can't expect results 😭

user5 lando and y/n in their friendship era, how the fuck did we get here

landonorris you're posting me now? oh you want me so bad 🥴

mclaren sending this to hr immediately

ynusername YOU'RE FIREEEDDDDDDD

user6 damn she logged into both accounts just to make sure he heard her ass 💀 double homicide

user7 oscar fans i can't even tell if we won or lost

user8 we didn't get a face pic but... we didn't get whatever the fuck the 3rd slide is

landonorris guys pLEASE

landonorris i won't post it she says... it's just for me she says

user9 LMAOOOO AND YOU BELIEVED HER???? 🤣 🫵

landonorris going dark, no one call me

user9 was anyone going to anyways 💀

user10 LET HIM GET UPPPP

oscarpiastri i'll pay you 20 dollars if you don't ever do this to me

mclaren 🤝

mclaren i mean you were never the target but now you will be if i don't get my money!!!!

oscarpiastri oh ok

lilyzneimer i have pictures you can you use if you need bb <3

oscarpiastri WHOSE SIDE ARE YOU ON

zbrownceo Very funny Y/n! Keep up the good work 👍

mclaren Thanks boss! (:

landonorris ZAK WHY

user11 zak is so supportive now, wait until he sees her comments 💀

zbrownceo I have seen her comments! Very funny! 👍

user11 blink twice zak, we can help you

maxverstappen1 This is the highlight of my week, thank you Y/n!

mclaren hey max verstappen of redbull racing! not sure if you heard but you did win the grand prix this weekend

maxverstappen1 No i know, this is just definitely better.

ynusername where's my photo credits 🫵

mclaren my bad bbg 😍

user12 nurse she got out again

oscarpiastri we'll win next time!!

mclaren who told you that 🤨

oscarpiastri the voices in my head

logansargeant you hold on bro, we'll find your meds soon

user13 i think moto moto likes you ahh image

user14 i need to shrink him and put him in my pocket and keep him there

user15 which one?

user14 lando

landonorris nuh uh, pick again

maxfewtrell you can't post pictures without consent mate

mclaren i didn't??

landonorris i didn't consent.

mclaren who are you gonna believe max? me? or the solid concrete evidence in front of you

user16 he looks like he can do some crazy tricks on a trampoline

landonorris this is the only comment about myself that hasnt made me viscerally angry

oscarpiastri unfortunately i feel the opposite

user17 lany/n at it again

user18 literally what the fuck do you mean

user17 if you dont get it, i can't explain it to you

user18 okay cryptic ass, fuck you 🙄

user19 they're in love guys, just wait and see

user20 yall just love saying stupid shit on this page huh

user19 i hate getting accused of some shit i actually do 😡 like yeah i do love that but who told you

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user20 op be so fr right now

user21 everytime one of these illiterate f1 drivers pulls one of the hottest women on earth a fairty dies

user21 *fairy

user22 fairty

user21 you shut the fuck up 🫵

user23 people when coworkers are seen together at their place of work

user24 do you hug your coworkers and follow them like a lost puppy when you could be on a break

user23 wtf no

user24 EXACTLY MF, THIS IS NOT COWORKERS BEING COWORKERS

user25 history will say they were just colleagues 😔

opeightywon this shit is a national tragedy

user26 every time i see a post like this i think about the fact that she has probably seen this and i shiver

user27 honestly praying on their downfall

opeightywon wtf

user28 lando fans be normal challenge

user27 idgaf about that white man, she's just too hot for him 😕

opeightywon oh yeah real

user29 i need another youtube video where they stare at each other longingly again asap or i fear i may start having withdrawal symptoms

user30 another hot girl lost to an average white man's swagless looks and cringe fail personality i feel sick

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liked by landonorris, lilyzneimer, and 44,786 others

mclaren not our best results in canada but we improved i guess 🙄 but on a much better, more exciting note: NEW MCLAREN YOUTUBE CHALLENGE OUT GO GO GO GO

17,998 comments

user31 my crops are watered, my skin is clear, my funds are tripled

mclaren all me 😮‍💨

user32 "yay challenge video" we all cry in unison

user33 OSCAR FANS IS IT REAL??? HAS IT COME TRUE??? IS THAT A FACE PIC I SEE

user34 and it's good quality too 🤩 what did we do to deserve this

mclaren you don't, but oscar bought me coffee all weekend

oscarpiastri yes i bribed her, i feel no shame

user35 lando's back in the dog house bro, he's back to no face pics

user36 but look at his beautiful brown eyes

mclaren babe they're greenish blue with the TINIEST bit of brown 💀

user37 how long you gotta stare at a man's eyes to know the exact paint blend 🫵

user38 DOWN HORRENDOUSSSSSS

lilyzneimer insert comical heart eyes here

mclaren flirting with your man 🤢 on MY cellular device

lilyzneimer my bad bb, he doesn't mean anything to me anyways 🥴

oscarpiastri ok what the fuck

danielricciardo DROP THE CAMERA SETTINGS AND MY LIFE IS YOURS

mclaren check dms 🤲

danielricciardo thanks love you're the best

landonorris LOVE??? LMAOOOO

user39 bro is losing the dgaf war MISERABLY

user40 the way lando is staring at her the whole time she's behind the camera 😫 oh he's not even down bad, bro's down under

landonorris can i get the camera settings

mclaren has anyone ever told you how good you are at photography?? i'm not saying that, i'm just asking 😀

landonorris oKAY fuck you.

user41 the way she doesn't even pretend to care about the results

landonorris i know 🙄

mclaren i know p13 is nawttt talking back to me right now

user41 OHHH SHE ATE YOU UP HUH

landonorris y'all are some fake ass fans fr

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8:57 PM.

Y/n stared at the flashing numbers on the digital clock in the boardroom and huffed quietly. The table in front of her was covered in a mix of shredded mozzarella cheese and vibrant, red pizza sauce. Flour with evidence of handprints and bits of pizza dough decorated the wood and the woman internally sighed at the thought of clean up. Eventually she would have to get back to work.

Lando was on his phone across the table from her, and she fought the urge to stare at him. Oscar had left a while ago, having an earlier flight than them out of Canada. Lando and her had made the executive decision to stay and finish the pizza the two men had made during the "not my hands" YouTube challenge. It was messy, and didn't fully resemble a proper pizza, but it tasted good enough if not a little bit burnt. The two had been sitting in a comfortable silence for the time being while they ate.

In the time Y/n had gotten to know the British man, both on and off the track, she found herself warming up to him considerably. He was kinder than she gave him credit for at the beginning of the season, and far funnier. She could see now that more often than not he spoke without thinking or having any consideration, and maybe he was more than a little bit arrogant, but he also felt things deeply and cared passionately.

Before she could think about what she was doing, Lando's eyes met hers and he smirked. Y/n's face burned but she rolled her eyes at him and took another bite of their burnt pizza. Her ears caught the sound of him placing his phone on the table, and when she looked up again he was leaning his body across the table and toward her instead.

"What are you staring at? Hm?" He teased and she scoffed.

"You," she started and took another bite of her pizza, "have pizza sauce all over your face, you idiot. And I'm just thinking, not sure if you're familiar with the concept." He grabbed a napkin quickly and began wiping rapidly at his chin and mouth, and even his nose. She couldn't help but laugh loudly. There was nothing on his face. He was perfect actually. Unfortunately.

"Did I get it? Why didn't you tell me sooner, traitor!" She doubled over but nodded anyways.

"What are you thinking about?" he questioned as he settled back down.

"Just the season, you and Oscar," she muttered.

"Me? Thinking of little ol' me when I'm right here in front of you," she rolled her eyes with a groan.

"You have selective hearing Lando," he laughed and nodded.

"Well what have you thought about it? The season I mean. And myself of course, don't care much what you think about Osc," he leaned on his hand and stared at her intently. Y/n couldn't help that being stared at by Lando felt a little bit like being ocean, being pulled and pushed by the moon's gravity. Her brain didn't work properly around him.

Or maybe I'm just really dramatic and he's just hot, she thought miserably, Probably the latter.

"I just think maybe you and me got off on the wrong foot," she said as she fumbled with the lid of her water bottle, "and I think that maybe I enjoy this job a lot more than I thought I would." The comments seemed to sober Lando's mood up slightly.

Maybe I shouldn't have been truthful. Maybe it shouldn't have been that serious.

"What did you think of me?" He asked quietly. "When you met me I mean."

"Do you want me to be honest?" He looked at her quizzically.

"Of course I want you to be honest Y/n, or I wouldn't have asked."

"I thought you were kind of an asshole," she whispered and he laughed.

"So the beef was real for you," he smiled slightly and she let her face fall gently into her hands.

"Yeah," she breathed out a laugh, "yeah maybe a little."

"Doesn't seem like a little," he goaded and she shot him a glare.

"Okay Lord Lando, maybe more than a little," he pointed at her triumphantly.

"AHA! So it was the instagram comment. I thought you knew I was kidding," A loud groan filled the room as she smacked her head on the table. Lando's giggling could probably be heard down the hall but Y/n found she didn't care all that much anymore.

"It wasn't just the instagram comment," she defended weakly. There was a brief silence as Lando stared into space and shook his head.

"Wow... I can't believe you were actually mad at me and I just didn't know."

"It wasn't that big of a deal I guess, I just felt like you didn't really take me seriously."

"Well I mean you're not a very serious person," Y/n's heart fell to her stomach.

"What?" She asked, staring at him. She couldn't have heard him right.

"Well it's just that you're not very serious are you? Like since I met you, it's never felt like you were a serious sort of person." He added as if that was some sort of defense.

As if that isn't more hurtful.

"You're not like Zak or Andrea, or really anyone else here you know? You're just you, you're different. It was hard to be serious with you here because that's just who you are." He continued.

God just shut up, please for the love of God just shut up.

"This is my place of work Lando," she muttered bitterly. "I mean do you hear yourself." His eyes widened and he put his hands out placatingly. Like she was some sort of rabid animal he needed to calm down.

"No no no," he muttered quickly and stood up to round the table, "that's not what I meant Y/n, you know that."

"Stop Lando, just stop," she said as she began to clear off the table.

Why did she expect him to be different. What made her think he could've changed.

"You made it perfectly clear what you mean. What you think of me and of my work, my career" she spit out, swiping everything on the table into the trash. They hadn't finished eating the pizza and now it was in the bin, but Lando didn't deserve to eat the pizza she helped him make. He didn't deserve to be here at all. He wasn't her friend, he was her coworker and nothing else. It was better she accept that now.

"You misunderstood what I said," he grabbed her arm to stop her from cleaning and she whipped it out of his grasp.

"Stop Lando," she said raising her voice. She knew her eyes were teary but she didn't care. She knew her face was red with embarrassment and her hands were shaking with the force of her humiliation but she didn't care. Lando Norris could go fuck himself.

He looked at her in shock and winced as he saw her face. She steeled herself. She had never cried over a man before, why would she do it now.

"You need to leave, you have a flight in the morning," she said emotionlessly. "And I have to clean so I can go home." He tried to speak and she put her hand up, stepping away from him.

"Get out please, you're in my way," she said and his brows scrunched. He was angry? Good, so was she.

"I'm in your way?" He asked incredulously, as if she didn't have any reason to be upset. "You're not even going to hear me out?" He scoffed.

"No Lando, I don't have time for this. I have a job to do and you're in my way," she said emphasizing the words as if speaking to a child. His face fell. He looked angry.

"Whatever Y/n. What fucking ever," he muttered, grabbing his bag and storming out. Y/n waited. Footsteps in the hallways continued until a far off door slammed.

Y/n wilted like an unwatered plant as tears began to fall.

So much for friends.

She knew deep down she was hurt about much more than just friendship.

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this is the second to last chapter of part one! i hope you enjoy! please feel free to comment and send requests, i'm excited to hear your thoughts <3

𝙩𝙖𝙜 𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

@lemon-lav @slutforpopculture @m4rt10ne @urfavsgf @sadsierra2 @96jnie @sltwins @poppyflower-22 @alliumiae @livelovesports @liberty-barnes @the-holy-trinity-l @iliwyss @awritingtree @redpool @elliotts1one @velentine @chaoticmessneutralplease @5sospenguinqueen @charizznorizz @2pagenumb @mxdi0 @cwiphswmwasohmm @tremendousstarlighttragedy @lnspipedrm @itseightbeats @tinycoffeeroom @woozarts @personwhoisther @a-beaverhausen @love-simon @annabellelee @ravisinghs-wife @chezmardybum @greantii @weekendlusting @monserelates @sapphiccloud @halleest @deamus-liv @gigigreens @morenofilm @laneyspaulding19 @lanireadss @dear-fifi @moldyshorts1997 @oliviarodrigostan13 @eugene-emt-roe @ilivbullyingjeongin @im-a-ghost666

#f1 x female reader #f1 x reader #f1 x y/n #formula 1 #f1 #f1 smut #f1 x you #formula one #f1 imagine #f1 smau #lando norris smau #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #lando norris fanfic #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris #racew1nn3rs: fake it till you make it #racew1nn3rs

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sleepy-steve · 1 month ago

Text

pt 2 of steve "dies but doesn't stay dead" harrington and eddie "ferryman of the river styx" munson // 1.9k // pt 1 ♡

—

november 1984

Eddie checks. Of course he checks. Asks around, eventually to his superiors to make sure he wasn’t going to get in trouble for not collecting Steve. It’s uncommon, they tell him, rare, even. But not unheard of. People die briefly and come back to life. Usually only the one time. The answer should be good enough. Should be. Isn’t though. It frustrates Eddie to no end. Months of wondering and ruminating with the firm belief that he won’t get to see Harrington again anytime soon to ask.

He doesn’t have to wait long.

This time Eddie is on the boat. Leaning over the edge, a hand dangling low to the black water, staring at the same patch of grass he first saw Steve sitting. In fairness, all souls appeared in that general area. But Eddie is fixated on the exact spot Steve had shown off his deep chest wounds. It’s for this reason that Eddie jumps three feet into the air when Steve materialises in the same spot again less than a year later.

Sitting up with a rattling gasp and a look of fury on his bashed-in face—again?! Eddie briefly thinks—Steve yells, “Fucking Hargrove!”

“Christ, Harrington!” Eddie shouts, hand over his chest despite the distinct lack of heartbeat. “Could give a guy a bit of warning.”

Steve looks around, eyes surrounded by more dark bruising taking a second to focus on Eddie, chest heaving as he calms down. “Shit, sorry, man.”

They just look at each other for a few long moments, Eddie standing like a frightened cat on his still wobbling boat. He clears his throat to break the silence. “Who, uh. Who’s Hargrove?”

Scoffing, Steve drags a hand down the side of his face, then winces as it passes over bruising. “Douchebag new guy.” He sighs, settling his forearms on his knees. “His sister is friends with some kids I know. Was coming after them, so I…” Trailing off, Steve gestures to his face.

“What? Offered yourself up as a human punching bag and got yourself killed? Again?” Eddie says, trying not to sound too judgemental.

“Yeah, well,” Steve sighs. “I wasn’t just gonna let him beat up a kid. They’ve been through enough without some dickhead coming in and kicking the shit out of them.”

Eddie feels his brows pull together slightly as he sits back down on the bench of the boat, arms crossed over the edge. It’s not like Harrington was the big bully of Hawkins High, but defender of local kids is… new. “Sounds like a grade-A asshole.”

Steve snorts. “He is.”

“Kids were lucky to have you around as their… babysitter?” Eddie offers, cracking a grin.

Steve rolls his eyes, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “Something like that. Probably didn’t need me at all. Stuck around long enough to see her drug him, so they should be fine.”

Humming appreciatively, a thought moves across Eddie’s mind, and he can’t help himself. “…No monsters this time?”

“Ha, ha,” Steve rolls his eyes. “Yeah, I know you don’t believe me, but the monsters did actually come back, which is why I was with those little shits in the first place.” He sounds annoyed, but there’s a fond look behind those bruised eyes. One that gives Eddie a little spark in his chest. “But no, this death was just a regular guy.”

It’s Eddie’s turn to snort. “This death. So casual.”

A full grin breaks out on Steve’s face, contrasting heavily with the bruises and the blood under his nose. “Well, when it’s happened this many times, kinda hard not to view it as like. Just this thing that happens, y’know?”

Eddie doesn’t really know. Of everything he’s learnt about death—through his own and through everyone he’s met since—this thing Steve goes through is beyond him. Incomprehensible. He nods anyway.

“How many times have you died, Harrington?”

“Hmm…” Steve looks up as he thinks for a moment. “This would be… five? Or six?” He shrugs. “I’m not sure if it happened when I was a baby.”

He says it so casually, so matter-of-fact, Eddie almost wants to double-take. It sounds so truthful, he struggles to not believe him. Even though Eddie knows he’s not losing much by believing him, a small part of him still has doubts. And worries for his job. “You gonna get in the boat this time?”

Steve snorts. “Not this time, buddy.” Something jolts in Eddie’s chest at the familiarity. “Maybe next time though.”

“Next time,” Eddie mutters under his breath, shaking his head. “You anticipate dying again?”

“Well, no,” Steve chuckles. “But based on how things have been… and apparently I’m not too careful.” He gestures at his bruised up face, eyes bright with humour between the blues and purples and reds.

“The monsters?” Eddie supplies, just teetering on the edge of sarcasm.

“Monsters, douchebag guys, car wrecks… you just never know.”

The casual tone in which Steve talks about his deaths still has Eddie reeling. It’s been well over a year and Eddie is surrounded by death constantly, and he still struggles to think about his own. Tells himself he’d rather not dwell, which is true, but it also hurts. He shakes it off, shifting his focus to the bruised and beaten boy in front of him.

“Or… you could save yourself the trouble, and get in the boat now?” Eddie gestures down at his boat with a little hand flair. He’s joking. Mostly. If Steve did have the chance to go back to the land of the living, Eddie didn’t want to take that away from him. Not that he thought Steve was getting that chance. Not completely, anyway.

“Wish I could, but I don’t make the rules.” Steve grins at him, like they’re sharing a secret. And they kind of were. Eddie wasn’t sure how many people knew about Steve’s semi-regular dances with death.

“And since when have you ever been one to stick to the rules?” Eddie asks, propping his arm up and resting his chin on his palm. Looking at the boy on the grass. His hair is longer this time.

Steve laughs, head tilted back. “Fair point. But if you want me on that boat, you’re gonna have to come over here and drag me onto it.” He raises a brow at Eddie in challenge.

Eddie rolls his eyes. “Wish I could, but I don’t make the rules.” He repeats Steve’s words back at him, mocking him.

“Well, well, well,” Steve says, tone playful. “Look who’s being a stickler for rules now.”

“I know,” Eddie drags it out, struggling to hold back his smile. “Crazy, huh? Divine punishment for being born the son of a criminal, I guess.” Eddie’s gaze drops down to the black water beneath him.

Steve scoffs at him. “Like you never smoked pot or broke speeding laws in that van of yours.”

Eyes widening before he can stop them, Eddie’s shocked Steve even knows about the van. Shocked that Steve knows anything about him at all. What world is he in where the king of Hawkins High knows about Eddie and his beat up old van? Even being in the grade below him, Steve had a popularity pull that was noticed by those in Eddie’s grade. Confusion and surprise subsiding, Eddie finds himself leaning forward even further.

“Coming from you?” Eddie challenges back. “We all know about the famous Harrington ragers, Mister Keg King.”

The title makes Steve roll his eyes. “Never saw you at one.”

It was true. Eddie hadn’t attended any of the parties, for fear of his reputation making him a target. He drops his gaze again. “Didn’t think I’d be welcome there.”

Steve doesn’t respond, and the silence grows between them. They haven’t moved, but Eddie feels further away from him. Like the weird little familiarity they’d developed was being forcefully shoved apart. Eddie doesn’t look up to see Steve’s reaction. Doesn’t want the pity.

“So, you really can’t get out of the boat?” Steve breaks the silence with a complete topic change.

“Nope,” Eddie responds, popping the P. “She’s my new baby, now that I don’t have my van.” He pats the side of the boat with his free hand.

Steve shifts forward until he’s sitting as close as he can to the water’s edge without getting wet. Close enough for Eddie to see the broken capillaries under his skin and the little green flecks in his eyes. He takes in the cuts on Steve’s jaw and forehead, the two black eyes, the blood under his nose. The way his knuckles are bruised and bloodied to match. Something in Eddie feels oddly… protective. Like he wants to jump in front of anything that might hurt this guy he doesn’t even really know that well.

“Change your mind about getting in the boat?” Eddie asks, voice low, now that Steve is so close.

“No,” Steve huffs a laugh. “But you can’t move, so I figured I should.”

“Just that desperate to be close to me, are you?” It slips out of Eddie’s mouth before he can think about it. And Eddie wants to punch himself in the face over it.

But to his surprise, Steve doesn’t recoil away or yell at him. Instead, he laughs softly, cheeks faintly pink beneath the bruising. “What can I say? The allure of your… baby…” He says it with a smirk. “Very tempting.”

Taken aback by Steve’s… flirting is the only word to describe it, but that can’t be right, Eddie immediately switches to joke mode. He won’t entertain the idea that Steve Harrington was honest-to-god flirting with him. He won’t.

“I’ll get you into this boat one day, Harrington. Mark my words.”

He knocks on the edge of the boat twice before smoothing his hand over the wood. Watches as Steve’s eyes follow his hand, seemingly fixated on it. Eddie briefly wonders what would happen if he touched Steve. Would that commit Steve to being stuck here? Commit him to moving on? Would Eddie even be able to feel him?

Gaze shifting back to Eddie’s face, a smile grows on Steve’s face. “Maybe. One day.” He shrugs, like his eventual death is a fun, whimsical topic.

Eddie is about to comment on Steve’s tone, but before he can, Steve’s head whips to the side, hearing something Eddie can’t. Just like last time.

Unlike last time, Steve doesn’t get up right away. “Looks like my time’s up.”

“How do you know?” Eddie is so curious, he can’t help but ask.

“I can hear—” Steve waves vaguely around his ear. “—stuff. From where I am. The kids are yelling. Hope they’re not too freaked out.”

“Guess you better get back then,” Eddie says, trying to hide his disappointment.

“Yep.” Steve pulls himself up into a standing position, now suddenly looking down at Eddie, who leans back on instinct, shifting back on the boat bench. “But I’ll see you next time.”

“I’ll be here.” Eddie gestures at the boat, palm up. Like he has anywhere else to go. “See ya, Harrington. Stay away from monsters.”

“I’ll try,” Steve laughs, walking backwards on the grass. Keeping his eyes on Eddie as he retreats.

“Try not to get that pretty face bashed in again,” Eddie calls after Steve’s already fading form, grinning wide.

Steve just laughs, the sound of it echoing even after his body disappears from Eddie’s sight.

#ohoho they're BACK my friends!!#i've been working on this between my EMBB fic for funsies #but yes there will be More of this too hehe #more of steve being a morbid little shit and more of eddie wondering what the fuck steve's life is #cira writes #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #eddie x steve #stranger things fic #steddie

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rafeandonlyrafe · 8 months ago

Text

sparkling juice

words: 1.9k

warnings: 18+ only!!!, p in v sex, unprotected sex, virgin!reader, dubcon, drugging/tricking reader into drinking, established relationship, innocent/shy!reader (at least at first wink wink), kinda dark!rafe but really he just wants to bang reader reaaaaal bad

“this is so sweet, rafey.” you coo, your hand held firmly in his.

“anything for you baby.” rafe pulls you along the path, further out into the meadow until you get to a shaded area under a tall tree.

“here is perfect.” rafe says, setting the picnic basket down and draping the large blanket he brought with him.

“thank you.” you tell rafe, pulling him in for a sweet kiss before sitting down.

“i brought all your favorites.” rafe says, taking a spot next to you and opening up the picnic basket.

you let out a little squeak in excitement and seeing all your favorite foods before your brows scrunch together as you point at a bottle. “what's that?”

“that's um… sparkling juice. that's all, baby.” of course, rafe knows that's not all it is, but you don't need to know that yet.

rafe pulls out some food for you to snack on, not hungry himself, happy to watch you nibble on crackers and bite into juicy strawberries.

“wanna try some juice with me baby?”

“mhm, of course rafey.” you watch his large hands as he fills two plastic cups, handing one to you. “drink slow.”

you nod in response before taking a sip, pulling away and sputtering. “ew!”

“oh, baby.” rafe pouts. “do you not like it? im so sorry i thought you would.”

“let me… let me try to drink it again. i think im just not used to the carbonation.” you take another sip, able to control your reaction better. “it's not bad!” rafe can tell you're lying, but he lets out a fake sigh of relief and smiles at you.

“so glad, baby. we can keep drinking while we talk, yeah? tell me about your day.”

rafe knows the easiest way to get you distracted is to have you talk, and so as you describe your day, which leads into your plans for next week, which leads into how much you love rafe, you keep taking sips as rafe refills just your cup.

“i… my head feels kinda fuzzy.” you frown, setting the drink down, realizing your fingers are also slightly numb.

“uh oh.” rafe pouts, drawing his thumb over your cheek. “maybe it's the heat. why don't you lay down?”

“yeah.” you nod, laying back onto the blanket, surprised how plush it is from the soft long grass underneath it. “im-” you let out a sudden giggle. “im like really in love with you, rafey.”

“im really in love with you too, kiddo.” rafe adjusts himself to lay next to you, propped up on his side to keep an eye on your reaction as the alcohol you didn't know you were drinking slowly takes effect. “that's why i planned out this whole picnic for you. and brought you special juice.”

“was there-” you hiccup, words slurring slightly. “anything special in the special juice?”

“hm.” rafe sits up, picking up the now half empty bottle. his eyes widen in fake shock as he reads the label. “oh no baby! i must have grabbed the wrong bottle! i meant to get us sparkling juice but i got us sparkling wine!”

“im… im drunk?” you put together what rafes words mean, mind working slowly.

“im so sorry.” rafe moves to hover over you, cupping your cheek. “will you forgive me?”

“course.” you nod quickly. “was an accident.”

“you're so sweet baby.” rafe brings his lips down on top of yours, kissing you wildly, mouths and tongues a passionate mess.

“should we go get some water to help… get rid of this feeling?” you ask rafe as he shifts to kissing your jaw.

“that's so smart, baby, but i can't drive us home drunk, and you don't have your license.”

you knew how to drive well enough, but in your 20 years of life, never felt the need to actually get your license. your parents drove you around as a kid until you started dating rafe a year ago, and then he drove you around everywhere.

“oh, right.” you nod, letting out a small gasp as rafes kisses move lower, exploring your neck. this is where you usually stop him, pull his head back up to kiss your lips and remind him you want to wait. not necessarily until marriage, but a bit longer, until the time is right.

“we should do something to pass the time, baby. until the alcohol is out of our system.”

“doesn't eating help?” you try to remember what you heard your friends talk about, since you're not a drinker yourself. “we could share the rest of the crackers.”

“i was thinking… we could finally make love.” rafe suggests, pulling back to look in your eyes, watching the way your brain is fighting against the alcohol in your system.

“well, you did take me on this nice picnic…”

“mhm.”

“and we have been dating for over a year now.”

“yes.”

“so… i suppose we could.” you shove down any doubting voices in your head, letting the looseness of your inhibitions guide your actions as you lean forward to kiss rafe again.

“thank you baby.” rafe repeats his words between kisses, his weight shifting to his elbow as his other hand holds your waist, before moving up until it's cupping your breast.

“oh!” you gasp, surprised by how good it feels. rafe smiles, tugging at your dress until the material is below your bra, pushing your breasts up.

“what if someone sees?!” you hiss out. it's not likely someone would come by, but rafe doesn't want to ruin his chance to finally have you.

“okay.” he pulls your dress back up, settling for touching you over the material as he distracts you with soft kisses once again. “ill just push your dress up. that way if anyone comes by you can easily cover yourself up.”

“mhm.” you nod, eyes sliding shut, head fuzzy from the alcohol and now from the pleasure building in your system.

rafe reaches down to pull his cock out of his pants, leaving himself mostly covered as well. he begins to slowly stroke himself, already halfway hard just from the excitement.

“oh!” rafe hadn't even realize your eyes had opened up until your outburst.

“it's okay, baby.” rafe says. he's well aware this is your first time seeing his cock as he waits for you to form a reaction.

“i… i want to feel.” you reach down, cautious hand, still numb at the fingertips as you stroke over rafes length, eyes widening when you realize how hard it truly feels..

“can you… can you not look?” you ask shyly, hand still slowly moving as you speak. “at me.”

“baby, you know i find you beautiful. all of you… but if that's what you want, okay.”

“just… look away for a minute.” you wait for rafes gaze to turn to the meadow, watching the flowers sway in the breeze as he hears you shuffling around on the blanket to take your underwear off.

“okay.” you say.

rafe looks back to you, smile growing as he realizes you're laid back down once again, dress pushed up to your thighs, just enough to hide your privates.

“ill be nice and slow, okay? and you tell me if anything hurts.” rafe moves over you, waiting for you to nod before reaching down with one hand to grab his cock. he keeps your skirt as far down as he can while tucking his dick between your thighs. he moves until he bumps skin, letting out a breath when he realizes you are wet.

he rubs his cock through your folds, watching the way your face twists in pleasure, brows pulling together and mouth dropping open.

you let out a moan when rafe hits what he assumes is your clit. he focuses the head of his cock on it for a moment before sinking lower to your entrance.

rafe manages to keep his word, pushing in slowly. he may have been buttering you up for an entire year just to get in your pants, but now he wants more than just once, you're well and truly his, and he plans on exploring with you until you're transformed from innocent girlfriend into personal slut.

“oh! oh, rafe!” your hands move to grip his shoulders. “that… that feels really good!”

“doesn't hurt at all?” rafe can tell he's stretching you somewhat, but clearly by your rapid shaking of your head no, you're not feeling any pain.

“gonna f-make love to you now then.” he swings his hips back before pushing forward, and soon your moans are filling the meadow, being carried away by the wind as he thrusts into you.

“so, so good, rafey.” you cry out, back arching off the picnic blanket. rafe smiles. your first time, and you're already behaving like this. he's going to turn you into a whore sooner than he thought.

“fu-fudge!” you shout out, making rafe chuckle softly as you use your curse word substitute just like you prefer doing.

“you feel so good round me, baby.” rafe says, bending down to kiss your neck. “love the way you're squeezing me.”

“harder.” you whine out. rafes eyebrows raise, but he doesn't question your demand, pushing his hips faster, slamming into you more. your dress pushed up from all the motion to reveal rafes cock burying itself inside your pussy.

he lets out a moan as you grip onto the blanket, not caring about him being able to see you as you feel a high building inside of you.

“i think im close.” you say.

“cum for me baby. ill cum with you.” rafe says, bringing a hand down to your clit, your moans doubling as he rubs over it with his thumb.

your high hits you suddenly. it takes a perfect thrust from rafe a long with his thumb flicking over your clit and your wall breaks with a scream, hips rising off the checkered fabric as you cum, pussy clenching around rafe as he spills inside of you with a moan of his own.

you both collapse in a heap, faces flushed and chests rising and falling rapidly.

rafe pulls out of you carefully before flopping onto his back.

“that was really good, rafey.” you cuddle into his side, resting your head on his chest.

“thank you for trusting me enough to do that with me, baby.” he presses a kiss to the top of your head.

“of course.” your eyes are on rafes cock, still halfway hard despite just cumming. you reach down, ghosting your fingers along his length before swirling your fingertip over the head then against his slit as rafes hips twitch from the overstimulation.

“do you think we can do that again? and then maybe when we get home? after you're good to drive, of course.” you look up at rafe with what he thought were big, innocent eyes, but he's quickly realizing you've got a different side just below the surface.

-- six months later --

“ugh, rafe!” you groan as he presses buttons on the controller, eyes firmly on the screen.

“promise baby, will be done in five minutes.” he says, barely glancing to you.

you're tired of being ignored as you pull off the only clothing you are wearing, a big t-shirt of rafes to cover yourself. rafe glances over, realizing you're now completely nude as his fingers freeze.

“i want to fuck. if you're not gonna help me, im gonna go help myself.” you shrug.

rafe tosses the controller onto the floor, a proud smile on his face. you've become just who he's always wanted you to be. “of course im gonna help you baby, come get on this dick.”

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pomefioredove · 25 days ago

Note

Hello! I hope you feel better soon :) remember to drink lots of water!!

Could I request a one-shot with Idia, where reader brings him a meal they cooked themselves since he hasn't had much to eat in the past few days? (Sorry if this is too vague I've just been having thoughts of taking care of Idia)

no this is perfect! <3 actually just what I needed to write rn

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ you have that effect on him

type of post: fic characters: idia additional info: romantic or platonic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu, food, mentions of eating and not eating, depression👍, actually cute, reader is not there much sorry,,,

One breath in. One breath out.

Idia has been counting the snicks and scorches on the ceiling all weekend.

They're mostly his. Haywire robots and Ortho mishaps, which he always takes the blame for. One dark smudge is from his shoe, when there was a bug on the ceiling and his brother was out of the room.

Each like a star in his own sky, memories of the days he could get out of bed.

This is not one of them.

Nor was yesterday. Or the day before that.

Just one of those weeks.

One breath in, one breath out. Idia feels painfully aware of the rise and fall of his chest.

He'd sent Ortho on some pointless sidequest for the day. He needed to be alone- well, not really. He just didn't want his brother to worry about him.

He gives up sleep, and lies on his side instead, opening his phone to doomscroll again. The harsh blue light makes his eyes water in the dark of his room.

It feels like he's been locked in an unskippable cutscene all week.

What would you think of him if you could see him now?

He doesn't want to picture it. Idia feels pathetic enough as a cringey, awkward, social reject, even if you like him that way.

There's no going up. When he hits rock bottom, he starts digging.

Knock.

Idia cringes at the sound. He was hoping to be asleep before Ortho came back.

Knock, knock.

"Come in,"

But he doesn't. Idia finally looks up, at the door. Ortho will give the compulsory three knocks, then wait for a verbal command, and then come in. He was programmed that way. He usually talks, too.

But, nothing.

Not Ortho, then.

Idia cozies himself back up in bed, dressing himself in blankets as if they were... well, a shroud.

Another hour goes by. At nine PM sharp, Ortho's melodious knocks, his happy chiming, and the light from the hall follow.

"Find that thing?" Idia asks. He can't even remember what he asked Ortho to get.

"Yep! And guess what! You have a present!"

Psh. Wut? Idia looks up from his phone.

Ortho hovers to the edge of the bed and hands Idia something lukewarm, in a covered glass dish.

"Whatsit?"

His brother giggles. "Can't you guess? You don't even need a scanner for it!"

Idia can't help but crack a smile at that, and he slowly sits up. He peels off the lid of the dish. It's soup.

"Did you make this?" he asks, inspecting the lukewarm dish.

Ortho gives a negative chime. "It was by your door when I returned. Would you like me to heat it up for you?"

"Uh..." Idia hums. "...Yeah. That'd be good."

Within a few minutes, it's back in his lap, hot again. Idia cautiously takes a bite. It's rich, filling, and good, clearly homemade. Not some cheap junk out of a can. One spoonful is more filling than any of the garbage he'd eaten in the past week.

"Your hormonal levels and body language indicate that it's satisfactory. Do you know who left it?" Ortho asks.

Idia shrugs. "Someone came by earlier, but I didn't get the door. Who'd leave me a home cooked meal, anyway?"

He eats some more. It's hard not to enjoy himself, if only a little.

"Well..." Ortho says. "...I may have mentioned to the Prefect that you've been unwell."

Idia almost does a spit-take. "WHAT?! WHA- WH?! This is- th-"

"Calm, Idy! I just said you weren't feeling well! They must have thought you were sick!"

He almost collapses on his bed. His hands are shaking. How humiliating. And he already looked lame enough as it was.

One breath in, one breath out.

"They came all the way out here..." he mutters, stirring the soup around the dish.

"They must really care about you, Idy!"

Idia's face goes bright red. "Don't say it like that..." he mumbles.

But he'd be lying if he wasn't secretly hoping that was true. The thought of you having made something like this just because he felt bad... well... it's a nice one.

You care.

Idia makes a mental note to send you a DM later. As thanks. And to ask if you have any soup left. It's pretty good...

Maybe the promise of you coming over will motivate him to get out of bed.

You have that effect on him.

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #idia shroud x reader

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eddiesxangel · 10 months ago

Text

You Look Tense |Masseuse!Eddie x f!reader

Cw: reader uses where/her pronouns, seduction, perv!reader, perv!eddie, dirty talk, fingering, p in v, unprotected, pull out, pet names (sweetheart, good girl) modern!eddie

wc: 2.9k

You were on a fold-out massage table in the middle of your living room. You downloaded the app to have a masseuse come to you on a whim. Your friend swore by it. You were a bit apprehensive about letting some stranger come into your home and rub you down while you were naked, but she said it was legit.

When you heard the knock on your front door, you didn’t think you would open it up to one of the hottest men you had ever seen. Leaving you staring at him with wide eyes and your jaw agape.

“You order a massage?” He smirks.

“Yea, sorry, um, come in.” You observe his dark blue scrubs as they hug his upper body.

You lead him inside to show him where to set up.

“First time?”

“What?”

“Is this your first time using the app?” he smiles. Taking off his coat, you notice his tattoos and muscular forearms.

“Oh, I’m… yeah.” You stammered because you were so distracted.

“I could tell, don’t worry. Things are strictly professional.” He explained.

Professionalism was not what you were worried about at this point. Quite the opposite, really.

After Eddie set up his things, he instructed you to lay face down, and then he left the room so you could strip and get under the white cotton sheet.

You called out that you were ready and heard his light footsteps entering the room.

“Anything specific you want me to focus on?”

“Um, my lower back and shoulders have been really hurting,” you mumble into the head pillow.

“Ok, great, let’s get started.”

His hands were like magic, the way he wasn’t too rough or too light. He worked your soar muscles perfectly.

“What’s got you so tense, sweetheart? Let me help you relax,” He spoke.

Relax?! How could you be relaxed with this extremely attractive man who is rubbing his hands all over your naked body in your own home!

And the voice! Oh god, his voice is so hot, you don’t want him to stop talking. It didn’t help that you were wound up in more ways than one.

“Um, uh…. Work, I guess.” You didn’t need to guess; you were drowning in the stress of your responsibilities.

“Well, don’t worry, I’m here to help with that,” he hummed as you heard the squirt of more oil fall into his large palms.

“Oh, yeah, your shoulders are so tense; that's a big knot.” You felt him shuffle, so he stood at your head. If you lifted your head up any further, you’d be face to face with his crotch.

You were trying too hard not to let out a moan as his strong fingers dug into your aching back.

“You gotta relax for me. Is the pressure too much?”

“No-no, you’re perfect- I mean, it’s perfect…”

Eddie let out a chuckle as he continued.

This was so good, too good, but he was right...You needed to relax. You tried not to focus on who was above you but on the feeling that he was giving you.

A few minutes later, you were successfully relaxing into the table.

“That’s it, very good,” he praised, and you let a moan slip out.

“Sorry,” you squeak.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. It happens all the time, and it lets me know I’m doing a good job."

Like Eddie said, he was keeping things strictly professional, but you were making it very hard, especially with that moan you let slip from your pretty lips.

Your skin was unbelievably soft, and you smelled really good. With this particular job, Eddie is used to all kinds of different clientele; he never knew what he was walking into when he got booked. So when you answered the door, he was very pleasantly surprised.

You stew in your own thoughts about how good this man’s hands feel, holding back the noises threatening to break the silence. The only sounds filling the room are Eddie’s feet shuffling, breathing, and wet, slippery skin.

“The best way to help with your shoulders is if I also rub down your neck and head. Are you okay if I get oil in your hair?” he asked again in that sexy, soothing tone.

“Yeah, that’s fine,” you sighed. Eddie smirks to himself again, knowing he is doing a good job.

“Great,” he shuffles to position himself to get the best angle. You feel as he sits beside you on the table, drapes your arm over his thigh, and uses his free hand to work at your neck.

His hand slowly works its way up, up, up until his long, thick fingers grip your hair, tugging on your scalp. His fingers dig into the perfect pressure points on your head.

You can’t help but let out another moan of pleasure; it just feels so good. You can’t stop your mind from going to an x-rated place, thinking about how good his hand feels tangled in your hair.

You couldn’t ignore your pussy any longer; there was no denying how wet you had gotten over the last half hour, and he hadn’t even made his way down to your lower back. How are you supposed to survive the rest of the time?

Your pussy was throbbing by the time Eddie made his way down to your lower back. You could feel Eddie move the sheet down lower, exposing more of your skin to him. He lightly draped it over your ass, careful not to expose it too much, trying to tuck the sheets into the band of your underwear, but to Eddie’s surprise, you weren’t wearing any.

You hear him clear his throat as he discovers that you are fully naked underneath.

“What side is, uh, bothering you?”

“Right,” you sigh. And I think I might have pulled the back of my thigh,” you suggest, hoping Eddie reads into it.

“Oh yeah, for sure,” he hums.

Eddie was in serious trouble, and the thin material of his pants did not help his situation.

Eddie had never grown hard with a client; this was not normal. He could not excuse himself until the session was over, so he hoped and prayed that his situation would defuse itself until it was time for him to leave.

It did not, you were torturing him, at this point you had to be doing this on purpose. Your moans were getting more and more sensual.

“Mmmmm, you’re so good at this,” you praise as his hands run along your lower back, creeping closer and closer to your ass muscle.

“So I’ve been told”

“Bet you’re really good with your hands in other places.”

Eddie froze. Did that really come out of your mouth, or did he hear things?

“You uh-" he cleared his throat, “-uh, said your lower back, right?”

“Yeah, but like, really low,” you hummed.

“You comfortable if I move the sheet, uh, lower?”

“Yeah,” you wiggled your hips slightly to encourage him to take things further. You cannot remember the last time you had been so turned on.

You hear Eddie’s breath hitch as you feel the fabric slip off your skin.

“Oops”

“Oh shit-”

“It’s okay; you can leave it off”

“You? Uh? Oh-okay” what was he thinking? This was not professional! It would get him fired if anyone found out… but how could they? He was in your home. You wouldn’t tell anyone? Against his better judgement, he decided to leave you exposed…

With your naked body exposed to Eddie, he continued to work on your lower back. Your oiled skin was glistening under each touch, and Eddie’s cock was growing by the second.

Eddie’s hands worked lower as he hesitantly yet excitedly explored the vast planes of your body. He hadn’t dared make a move, but you could feel his hands move closer to your inner thighs, so you partied your legs so he could have better access.

Eddie watched as your legs moved for him, your legs parted, and he had the perfect view of your glistening pussy lips.

Eddie’s eyes widened as he knew he had not even gotten close to that area of your body with the body oil.

With a deep breath, Eddie grazed his fingers closer to your upper inner thigh, right below your ass; the tops of his fingers lightly traced the outside of your lower lips to test the waters.

The last thing Eddie needed was to read your advances the wrong way and end up in jail.

“Mmmm, that’s good,” you hummed, encouraging Eddie to keep going.

“You need me to work on anything else?” Eddie asked suggestively.

“Now that I think about it, I pulled my groin the other day; I think you could really help me with that; you’re so good with your hands.”

“Sounds good, sweetheart,” Eddie hummed, shifting his weight to get the best angle. You felt him crawl up onto the table with you and straddle his legs around you.

His hands work your ass, massaging the muscles up, pulling your skin taught so he could see your swollen pussy lips.

Sucha pretty pussy

“Mmm thank you”

Shit, did Eddie say that out loud?

You let out a chaste breath as you felt his long thick fingers finally graze your wet slit.

Eddie gently massages circles onto your clit, and your hips roll into his hand.

“Mmmm, that’s it, relax f’me… this is what you needed, hmmm?”

“Uh-huh,” you sigh as your body fully relaxes into Eddie’s soft touch.

Eddie’s hand continues to work your fluttering clit before he decides to let an oiled finger slip into your hole.

“Oh, sweetheart, you are so tight, so tense. You should have told me earlier. I really need to loosen you up” he pumped his finger in and out of your pussy before curling his fingers to massage your inner walls.

“Maybe we could extend the session,” your breath hitches.

“I think that can be arranged,” he slips a second finger effortlessly.

As he continued to work your pussy he added his thumb to your clit. That familiar feeling of lust and need built up in your lower stomach as Eddie sped up his fingers.

“More,” you pleaded. You were at his mercy. You’d do anything to have him make you cum.

“I think I need to get in deeper,” he hummed.

You liked that idea; you popped up to finally see him. You watched as his pants slipped from his hips, and your mouth waters at the sight of his hard cock staring you in the face.

“Like what you see?” He smirks as he watches you checking him out while he checks you out, seeing your naked breasts for the first time.

“Yeah, like what you see?” You ask back.

“Oh yes,” he leaned in to cup your face, bringing your lips together.

Eddie’s mouth took over yours, and he ravaged you. His plush lips were so soft as his lips explored your own. His tongue slipped into your mouth as his soft hands moved up your middle to kneed your breasts.

You shuffle back so Eddie can place himself between your legs.

“Need you now,” you spoke into his mouth between kisses.

“Want you so bad” Eddie replies.

“Please,” you begged for him.

Eddie stripped the rest of his scrubs and exposed the tattoos that dawned his alabaster skin. He was covered head to toe in ink. You wanted to kiss every inch of his body, but the need to have him inside of you was more, so you widened your legs as far as they could go to expose yourself.

“Thought you said you pulled your groin” Eddie smirks

“Guess your magic hands healed me” You sank your hand between your legs so you were touching yourself, teasing Eddie as you worked your fingers in your needy clit.

“Magic hands, huh?” He replaced your hand with his.

“Mmmmhmmm,” you hum as Eddie kisses you and guides you to lie on the fold-out table.

“You think these are magic just wait and see what my cock can do.”

You gasp as Eddie slips the head of his cock across your wet lips, collecting your slick before the tip of his cock breaches your hole.

His cock was thick and long. Slowly, he stretched you out inch by inch. Sinking deeper and deeper until you enveloped him wholly.

Eddie watched as your pussy swallowed him, skin to skin, he didn’t even know you, but it didn’t matter; all that mattered was how you were making him feel and how he was making you feel.

“Oh, Eddie!” You cried as he started building up his speed, pumping into you.

“Mmmmm, I like how you scream my name.” You watch as his body pumps into you, his abs defining themselves with every thrust in. His big hands grip as best they can on your oiled skin and push your legs to your chest, folding you in half as he does.

“S’big,” you try and grab at Eddie, but he’s too far out of reach, so you ball your hands into fists and grit your teeth in frustration. You want to feel him, to touch him, to have all of him.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

“Wanna kiss you” you whined.

“Shhhh, you’re okay; as long as my dick is inside of you, you’re fine.”

“Oh fuck!” He sunk deep into you, faster and faster, his hips thrust his cock deeper into your needy cunt.

“That’s it, take it like a good girl.”

God, the mouth on this man, you had no idea.

Eddie gave in and leaned over to kiss you before he unexpectedly jumped off the table and flipped you over to your hands and knees.

“The only way I’m going to get as deep as you want, baby,” you could hear the smile in his voice as he spoke.

“Just give it to me”

“Oh, asking to be fucked? Wanna be fucked by my cock, huh?”

You nod your head frantically as he aligns your hips to be at the perfect height for him to pound into you.

“Fuck look at that” he massaged your ass, spreading it apart before plunging his hard cock back into your throbbing pussy.

You let out a scream; Eddie was right; this angle was deeper, so deep you swore he was in your stomach at this point.

“That’s it, you can take it.” Eddie watched as your oiled skin bounced off his cock, and he swore he was in heaven.

Your tight pussy clenched down on him even more from the angle. The way your warm wet walls were hugging his cock, how your ass looked bouncing off his body, he could have come by now, but he wanted to hold off, savour this a little while longer.

Eddie reached round your body to massage your clit once more. His fingers were moving so meticulously while his cock was pouncing into you from behind.

“Faster” You grabbed Eddie’s wrist because his fingers were too slow; no way you would cum from them slowly circling your swollen clit.

Eddie listened to your plea and picked up the pace with his hands and his hips. Eddie was pounding into you so hard. If you were an outsider looking in, you would swear the fold-out table would have given out, but you were so cockdrunk you had no other thoughts than how Eddie was making you feel.

“You’re close, baby; I can feel the way you’re squeezing me; you’re going to cum when I say okay.”

“Can’t hold it, wanna cum, wanna cum so bad!” your upper body gives out, only making your ass arch higher for Eddie. He looks down to see the creamy ring form at the base of his cock as your orgasm threatens to take over.

“Hold on, on my count ok.”

“Mmmmmmmm” was all you managed to get out. Eddie s fingers still circling your clit, with his cock hitting your g spot. There was no way you were holding out any longer.

You wanted to cum so bad, but you also wanted to please Eddie, your friend, your hardest.

“Cum for me in…. 3….2….1, cum on my cock” he spoke between each thrust into you.

You listened and came as soon as the words left his mouth. Your body seized, and your mouth opened, but nothing came out as your silent cries were met with a wave of pleasure that washed over your whole being, soaking Eddie’s cock even more.

It could have been minutes or a few just a few thrusts later, you didn't know, but Eddie pulled out and finished, spreading his seed on your ass, which was somehow still perched in the air for him.

“Holy shit,” you hear Eddie whisper. “Definitely never done that before,” he laughed.

“Same,” you sigh, still fucked out.

Eddie picked up the discarded sheet off the floor and wiped off the remanence of his seed off of your ass and back.

“So, uh, that fix your problem?” He smirked.

“Only time will tell.” You sit back up finally with the sheet wrapped around you. “Maybe next time we will have you set up in the bedroom… You know, there is more space up there,” you smile.

“Next time?” Eddie smiles back.

“Yeah, maybe I’ll even cook you something, buy you dinner first.”

“I’d like that.”

Tags: @munson-blurbs @hunter-in-the-upsidedown @joejoequinnquinn @hellfirenacht @cinemabean @voyeurmunson @impmunson @asimpforthe80s @ali-r3n @take-everything-you-can @taintedcigs @trashmouth-richie @strangerstilinski @daisy-munson @bl00dy-hideout @babybimbo777 @lokis-army-77 @jamdoughnutmagician @sadbitchfangirl @mrsjellymunson @xacora @girlwiththerubyslippers @justiceforfoxface @katethetank @frogtape @cool-nick-miller @susie3334 @mrmiyagislittletrees @penguinsandpotterheads @eddies-acousticguitar @elvirasleftnipple @american-idiot-jpg @emo-taurus @ilovetaquitosmmmm @chloemm13 @gri959gri @seatnightsdea @faeriemunson14 @veemoon

#Eddie Munson x you #eddie munson x reader #Eddie Munson smut #modern!eddie #Eddie Munson imagine #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #modern!eddie munson x reader #modern!eddie munson #modern!eddie munsun x you

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wheneclipsefalls · 9 months ago

Text

Little Gift- Tremble

Pairing: Soft Dark Neteyam x Fem Human Reader

Little Gift Masterlist

Beautiful adult Neteyam pic by @cinetrix2

Summary: This is your last chance to run.

Warnings: aged up Neteyam, NSFW minors do not interact, dark Neteyam, NONCON/DUBCON, spanking, dirty talk, punishment, size difference, etc.

A/N: This one took a little longer than intended with all the life stuff going on, but yay it's here. Also, migt have gotten a little carried away with this part.

The outpost feels like a relic of a different time. One that you have only heard of in stories, but now seeing those worn down bunk beds and the corner of a room that Spider calls his own, it doesn’t feel as glorious. The worst part, however, is how naked you feel around other humans. It’s only a slight comfort that Spider is wearing Na’vi apparel too.

“Oh and yeah and this is a spear I made in Awalatuu.” Spider says. “But maybe let’s move it out of the way.” He gives an awkward chuckle but it’s obvious that his only concern is you suddenly deciding to use it against him.

Your arrival at the outpost had been anything but graceful. In hindsight you would have preferred to meet these people face to face instead of over Neteyam’s shoulder.

“If you want we can uh….watch a movie. Oh yeah I bet I could swipe Norm’s Star Wars collection.”

You don’t return the smile he gives you, too busy awkwardly sitting on his bed while pouting. You never thought it would feel strange to be back in a place like this but after being around the Na’vi for the past week, the outpost feels like walking into a rundown dollhouse. Everything is your size and nothing is as beautifully crafted as Neteyam’s kelku.

The awkward silence is slightly painful but you can’t find it within yourself to feel bad for Spider. Not when he hasn’t shown even a morsel of sympathy for your situation. Your own kind and not even they find it important to get you out of here. Not that they could anyways. No doubt Neteyam would view such actions as a betrayal.

“He wouldn’t let you come along, huh?” You finally ask.

Spider stops digging through the worn down hard drives.

“Who?”

“Neteyam. Didn’t want you coming to see the RDA off either?”

Spider scoffs at the, leaving the tech behind to cross the small room.

“I wouldn’t say that. I’m not the one he’s worried about getting into trouble.”

Spider may not have heightened senses like the Na’vi but you worry that he sees the way your hands ball around the thin blankets.

“So Lo’ak handed the role of babysitter off to you somehow.” You lean back against the cold wall, trying to appear bored by the conversation.

“Just for today. He was clear that I would only be a substitute.”

Your brows furrow at that. Maybe Lo’ak doesn’t mind watching over you as much as he lets on. Then again Lo’ak never fails to find your company amusing, and for all the wrong reasons. Some days you wonder if Neteyam would really be cross with you for slapping his brother across the face. Maybe if you batted your lashes and played it off as self defense….

“Well I’m sorry you can’t be there.”

It’s Spider’s turn to look confused.

“Why?”

“Colonel Quaritch is your dad, isn’t he?”

“That asshole is nothing close to a father.” Spider’s jaw clenches, posturing already shifting to loom over you. He may be human but his six foot frame of striped muscle greatly outweighs your own.

“Oh trust me, I know. Quaritch has been nothing but a tyrant my entire life. I honestly don’t know how he managed to get back into General Ardmore’s good graces after half the stunts he has pulled. That’s why I was excited for today. Finally see that bastard put in his place.” Spider watches you closely. In some ways it feels like all he is missing he ears and tail of a Na’vi.

“Thought maybe you would want to see that too.”

You know a good deal about Spider Soccoro. He is a story that is often shared among the recombinants but never in Quaritch’s presence. Many tales have been told of the feral stripped boy that was more trouble than worth. You wonder if the stories would have been different if he hadn’t chosen the Sullys in the end. Still, even with their biased filters you know that they put Spider through hell.

Kidnapping is traumatic enough without having to watch islands burn and friends cry for justice.

“I don’t care what happens to that bastard.” Spider huffs before promptly turning around and fishing through the hard drives once more. You’ve killed the already strained mood.

“Well then you’re a better person than me. Good for you.” Spider doesn’t answer but you can tell he is listening.

A bitter laugh escapes you. “Hell, I’ve only had to put up with him from a distance and I would ring his neck myself if given the chance.”

Spider’s fingers fiddle with a blue hard drive, eyes staring down thoughtfully.

“But I guess I should trust Neteyam to give him what he deserves. Watch that monster tuck his tail and accept his failure for what it is.” It’s the one cause you consider Neteyam and yourself on the same side of.

Leaning back, you prop your feet up onto the creaky mattress.

“Yeah.” He says shortly.

“Ugh don’t get me started on Lyle though-”

“What are you trying to do?” Spider springs to his feet, glaring daggers down at you.

“What do-”

“Do you think I’m really that stupid? Neteyam told me you would do this. Trying to spin a story that would allow you to escape.”

You swallow the lump in your throat. You’re startled by the outburst to say the least but at this point there is nothing to lose. This man you only met fifteen minutes ago is the difference between spending the rest of your days here and returning back to Earth. Neteyam’s punishments are far from being enough to deter you from taking this chance.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t trying to-”

“Would it kill you to just stay out of trouble for this one day? For my sake?” The look he gives you is anything but tender in comparison to his words.

The bitter taste of impending failure is already settling in. You can already feel the immense weight of this dread and it springs you into action. This can’t be the end.

It won’t be.

“Can you really blame me though? For wanting to say goodbye to everything and everyone I have ever known?”

Spider goes quiet, hazel eyes suddenly avoiding your own gaze.

“Believe whatever you want but the fact is this day will never repeat. This is literal history and…” You voice quivers, blunt teeth sinking into your bottom lip in restraint. The last barrier to holding the words back. “The last glimpse at my old life.”

You don’t allow the gravity of those whispered words to plant themselves. This is all a ruse after all. Just enough sadness to get Spider to cooperate and yet saying it out loud feels like tying an anchor to your ankle. Truly realizing how stuck you may be from here on out.

Spider doesn’t say anything for a long while. Neither of you look at each other, letting the silence sizzle between you.

And then finally….

“We have to be quick.”

“And no touching anything. I mean it, shit out here can be extremely poisonous.” Spider rattles on, listing yet another rule to follow as the two of you venture through the thick terrain. You roll your eyes. You may not be a match for the creatures of Pandora physically but you’ve studied enough to understand what to stay away from.

“We’re there for five minutes tops, got it?” Spider says as he pushes a hanging branch out of your path.

“Yes sir.” You salute him playfully. Now that you are less than a mile away from Bridgehead a certain giddiness begins to take over. It swirls together with your nerves and apprehension but it doesn’t deter you. This is the closest you have been to freedom in a week.

Eywa’s mightiest creatures could not keep you from your goal.

Years down the road when you wake up from kyro this will all be some awful dream that embeds itself into your revenge arch. Starting with Miles Quaritch of course.

“I’m being serious. Neteyam will kill me if he sees you out here. I’m sticking my neck out for you.”

“It will be worth it.” You say simply, a skip in your step when you recognize the familiar path that leads back to Bridgehead. This the same one you had carved deeper with every trip you had taken to your oasis. Looking back there is nothing more you regret but the sight of it still makes you smile.

Spider never stops his stern rambling. Despite the fact that he is built like a Greek God, his speeches do little to intimidate you. Not when you’re used to nine feet of solid muscle and sharp canines.

There is a bank that overhangs Bridgehead. A spot that Spider deems the perfect lookout for the two of you. You consider trying to convince him to get the two of you closer. After all, what good is a farewell that can’t be heard? Truth is, there really aren’t many people you would bother trying to say goodbye to. Jeremy moved on from you months ago, you have very little friends outside of that and what little you did have can be nothing but traitors by letting you get offered up without complaint.

It feels like a risky move, however. Spider is sure to catch wind of your deception at the first hints of you disobeying.

“Here,” Spider mutters, suddenly pulling your arm so you stand directly in front of him. This leaves you sandwiched between the cliff’s edge and Spider’s tall frame.

“Hey!” You snip at him, ripping your arm from his hold.

“This way I can keep a close eye on you.” He smirks, hands resting confidently on his hips because he knows as well as you that his physical prowess greatly outweighs your own. It’s clear his trust is far from being earned.

“Well do you have to breathe down my neck? Christ! I could use some space.”

“No chance.” Spider responds shortly but his eyes are already scanning the crowd of RDA members below.

“Neteyam doesn’t really take kindly to others sniffing around me.”

You hate to play that card but it seems to be the only one you have in your deck and if you have any chance of getting out of here, Spider can’t be pressed up against you. A harsh glare is thrown down at you but with knitted brows and a fierce frown, the male takes a few steps back. It isn’t much, surely his presence will still be your first obstacle, but it’s a start.

Every minute that passes by feels like torture. You watch as palettes of heavy equipment and artillery are rolled along the concrete with Na’vi supervising. Each one packed away is a signal of passing time, another stream of sand that falls through your hourglass of opportunity. The real nerves, however, kick in when the line of RDA members are escorted onto the ship.

How long is it going to take them to load everyone?

How long until your hopes are dashed?

You spot Neteyam taking his place at the head. He is dressed up in his traditional Olo’eyktan gear completely with a feathered mantle and oval forehead jewelry, but this time he holds a gun. He holds it with confidence, finger strategically placed over the barrel and ready to strike at a moment’s notice. His golden eyes spark today like fire. Even from your lookout spot from above, you can feel that darting heat.

You pray that they never fall on you again.

Spider shifts over your shoulder suddenly, blonde dreads ticking your neck. You scramble out of his space but instead of jerking you into place as you expect, he takes your spot at the front. Brows knitting together, you watch him carefully as he crawls forward.

Finally you spot what has captured his undivided attention.

Colonel Miles Quaritch sternly leads his band of mutants through the crowd. They tower so high over the rest of the Sky People the sight is almost comedic. However, Spider is doing anything but laughing. His mask fogs up as he watches the scene with intensity.

It’s like he is dead to the world, eyes trained on the man that has been anything but a father to him.

You expect him to cheer, snarl, anything that shouts of victory. It was promises of seeing karma after all that had bought you this outing but Spider is silent and still. And then there is something else that flashes over his demeanor, a pang of emotion that is hard for you to place.

Pain?

Hatred?

Guilt?

This swirl of tangled feelings is confusing.

Perhaps there is still so much more to learn about Spider Socorro.

Regardless, this is your chance and you plan to take it. Tension bleeding into the moment you watch Spider diligently while beginning to back away. It feels as if the world’s ambience has been muffled into background noise and the only sound breaking through is the obnoxious puff of each breath through your mask. Neteyam hadn’t given you the serum shot this morning, assuming you would be spending the whole day in the outpost. Now, however, you wish he had.

Spider is so enveloped in the moment, however, that he gives no recognition of the sound or even branch you clumsily snap when backing down from the cliff’s edge.

There is no telling how long this trance will last or at what point you will be out of ear shot so you risk it all.

Bare feet tingling in protest, you race across the forest floor. There’s no sign of an easy and stealthy way down into Bridgehead. Going back down your normal path would risk Spider spotting you race by. That’s not an option but neither is falling to your death. On the east side the cliff shallows out into a grassy hill. If you’re lucky enough you might just be able to creep down it and remain hidden beneath the heavy greenery.

Upon reaching it, however, you step on loose dirt and the world rapidly spins around you. With neither a hint of grace or stealth you clumsily roll down the hill. Your muscles ache by the time you clunk to the bottom and you’re sure there are other injuries to be found. Adrenaline dulling the pain and panic, you dart to hide in the nearest bush instantly.

The scene is so much louder now that you are up close. Heavy trucks make blaring beeping sounds while reversing and Na’vi freely let out loose cries of victory and foreign threats. The commotion is just enough to have your presence remain undetected.

You don’t bank on that lasting for long though.

Your scanty traditional Na’vi attire is sure to draw attention. You need different clothes and you need it fast. Scaling around the outskirts of the chaos, you miraculously manage to make it to that familiar run down door. Sector two-your building.

Paranoia constantly scraping at your attention, you barely let the room equalize before ripping your mask off. These hallways feel so different than you remember them. Perhaps it is the feel of the metal floors beneath bare feet or the lacking furniture and crowd. It sends a chill up your spine as you sprint towards your room.

How much time do you have?

They can’t have loaded more than half of the crew by now.

And yet, the sight of deserted halls makes your feet slap against the floor faster.

Get dressed. Immerse yourself in the crowd. Hide until take off is through and then find a kyro capsule.

You mentally check through this list.

Piece of cake.

Maybe saying it out loud would make it sound less like a fool’s hope.

Fuck it. The odds don’t matter and neither do your nerves. This is a necessity, pure survival and that will be enough to keep you going. It will because it has to.

Your feet slip across the laminated floor when you frantically scramble to go back the way you came. Two tall and ominous shadows wrap from around the opposite corner and you are afforded just enough time to dart behind a wall before Lyle and Z Dawg appear.

“You’re an idiot.” She says.

“Yeah yeah say whatever you want but don’t pretend like you wouldn’t rip someone in half for a Big Mac right now.” Lyle defends himself, their shadows now paint the dimly lit corridor, stretching closer and closer to your tucked away spot.

You could run, but these are recombinants. They would pick up the sound of your footsteps in an instant. The wind from your sprint would carry your scent.

“Sure, but I asked what your first meal back on Earth would be, not what your guilty pleasure fast food order is.”

“These savages can keep their overgrown weeded garden of a planet. I want some fucking chicken nuggets!”

As their voices become louder it appears that running will be your only choice after all.

“I don’t even know why I ask at this point.” She sighs and a short hiss echoes down the hallway.

You swallow the lump in your throat, feet repositioning as you prepare yourself to run. If you were smart you would have already been halfway down the hallway at this point but some part of you refuses to move. It clings to hope foolishly.

“Well I’m sure-”

“Shut up asshole. The comm.” Z Dawg hisses and they both turn silent, no doubt listening to the orders on the other end.

Your hands are shaking now, that tremor traveling up your shoulders as you await their response.

“Copy that.” Lyle says and then the sound of heavy boots recedes into the distance.

You can hardly believe your luck.

That dark cloud of dread ripples away and hope takes its place once more. Maybe you can pull this off after all.

Your room is exactly as you left it. No one has bothered to pack up any of your things or even dispose of your half folded laundry. This tiny corner of a shared living space has been your own for your whole life, everything you have known. It feels so small now.

Rifling through the laundry basket you find a loose green tee and a pair of tan shorts. You originally had a whole outfit planned for this day, something comfortable but nice. Those garments are, however, still crumpled up on the ground. This will have to do.

As you hastily slip them over the beaded jewelry and tewng you pray to whatever god will listen that this will be enough to keep you incognito. You are barely finished buttoning up the shorts when heavy footsteps ring down the hallway.

Their echo is soft, no doubt still several halls away but they are progressively getting louder. Now is not the time to take any more risks. This room is tiny and already cramped with scattered junk. Hiding under your bed would not only be idiotic but near impossible with the way your creaky bed swoopes so low to the ground. There is, however, an old built-in cabinet above that you’ve used to hold your clothes.

It’s just barely big enough for you to squeeze into so with those footsteps getting louder and your own terror sky rocketing, you push everything out of it and shove your body into the metal space. The door has metal slots with just enough slant to allow your visual through it.

Your clammy right hand presses over your mouth when the door to the room creaks open.

Neteyam strolls in leisurely, eyes sweeping over the cramped space with interest. With wide eyes and strangled lungs, you watch him prowl through the area slowly. He bends down to run his fingers over the rumbled sheets, the back of his hand lingers over your pillow case.

He takes his time looking through the various knick knacks and cords littering your night stand. He doesn’t hesitate to ball the old picture of Jeremy into his fists. Its remains are tossed to the side without care.

Did he toss the real Jeremy like that?

You make a vow to find him as soon as you make it on board.

Assuming Neteyam hasn’t already hunted him down.

You could look for whatever is left of Jeremy.

You can’t think about that now, though. Not as your heart is pounding against your ribs like a bird trying to escape a cage. Not when Neteyam lifts his mask for a sip of air as he plays with your tiny music box.

He is gentle with all of your belongings, roaming through the area like a man that doesn’t have hundreds of Sky People to threaten off of his planet. Surely, he will have to leave soon. He’s just here out of curiosity, more of his stalker tendencies pushing him to invade your space.

The music box looks like a Christmas ornament in his palm and you worry that he will accidently crush it. It was a pain in the ass to get and a possession you have always treasured because of that. Neteyam’s ears push forward when he finally figures out how to start the music and that delicate ballerina begins to twirl.

“Maybe it’s all of your silly trinkets.” He breaks the silence, you startle slightly. He can’t be talking to you, you remind yourself. Neteyam thinks he is alone, just nosing through your old room as he thinks out loud. “Is that what you miss so much? What has you running off and acting naughty, little gift?”

He’s bluffing. There is no way he could know you are here. Your scent has to be strong in the room but that’s to be expected since this was your living space. Ironically this should be the perfect place to hide away.

“You know,” He starts, carefully placing the music box back down. “I was planning on letting you bring some of these funny things back to our kelku once you start behaving. A little incentive to be my good girl.”

The knot in your throat is near impossible to gulp down and when you do, his ears twitch. You don’t want to believe it. How did he find you? You tug your legs closer to your chest as if you can contort yourself into a small enough ball that will magically disappear.

“But it’s obvious now that you respond better to retribution than reward.”

It’s a miracle that your lip doesn’t split from how hard your teeth press into it. Neteyam may not be able to track your scent here but the smell of blood would be a dead giveaway. All signs point to being caught but you aren’t ready to hand over the last shreds of hope yet. Neteyam doesn’t know about the cabinet. He’s bluffing about knowing you are here. No one has seen you.

“We can revisit the idea of a reward system later, pet.”

The muscles in your legs are cramping beyond relief, begging you to stretch out. You don’t heed these discomforts, too paralyzed by the proximity of your captor. Neteyam on the other hand appears deceivingly content and relaxed, rummaging through your things as if he has all the time in the world.

He carefully opens your nightstand drawer and those hairless eyebrows raise immediately. The bras are tossed to the side with the same care as the picture but then tiny little lace fabric hangs from his fingers. It’s far from your greatest problem but your cheeks heat anyways when he carefully observes your light purple panties.

Out of all the drawers to open it seems that Neteyam knows just the one to torment you with.

“Then again,” The Olo’eyktan smirks. “These are quite cute.” And this time instead of inhaling from the respirator he soaks in the scent from the small fabric instead. Your thighs clench together.

“Wouldn’t mind having my little tawtute model these for me.” He hums, while pulling out several more pairs. He tucks them away safely in a small pouch attached to his loincloth. “That is, once I finally get rid of this rebellious streak of yours.”

You allow yourself a small sigh when Neteyam goes around to the other side of the bed, just enough distance for you to breathe properly.

“Time to come out, little gift.” He squats down onto his haunches, prowling across the floor like a predator on track. He must be searching for you and if that is true then you may still have a chance yet. Neteyam may think you are in here but he doesn’t know where exactly.

Thoughts race through your mind at a thousand miles per minute. They twist and twirl to find some way that you could get out of this situation unscathed. The doorway is visible through the slanted slits of the cupboard. With the proper footing you may be able to close that distance with a courageous leap. And maybe, just maybe that would be enough to catch Neteyam off guard and give you a head start.

You make one fatal mistake, however.

If there is one thing a good prey knows to do, it is to keep sight of their predator at all times.

Your feet don’t even get the chance to hit the ground, instead dangling and thrashing once you are caught with a strong hold around your waist. Hoping is waning but disappointment sprouts into increased vigor as your nails digging into his arms and legs struggle to kick back at him.

“YOU MOTHERFUCK-” Your cursing slings into a shriek when Neteyam grabs a fistful of your hair and uses it to strongly crane your head backwards. His golden eyes are dilated until only a thin rim of molten gold is visible. The weight of his angry gaze takes your breath away.

“Enough.” He enunciates the word, like a drawn sword ready to slash. “Listen closely, pet.” The lump in your throat goes down with a strained gulp. “There is not an inch of this Sky Demon hell hole or corner of this planet that you can run to without being drawn back to me. You are mine and I’ve done well to mark my property.” The fingers intertwined in your hair tickle over the back of your neck, no doubt leaving the trail of his scent behind. “You reek of me.”

Tears gather at the corner of your eyes and you flutter them closed to avoid his burning attention.

“As you should.” His voice rumbles as nothing more than a growl against the nape of your neck.

“I never asked for this!” Your fighting dimms down to nothing more than squirming as gritting the choked words out sucks your energy away. Before you can do anything to stop it, tears blaze trails down your cheeks. “Just let me go! Please!”

“Quiet, pet.”

Another yank to your hair and the words die on your lips. It’s clear now that the time for fun and games is over. Neteyam wastes no time in throwing you onto the creaky mattress and covering your body with his own until he becomes a shadow blocking out the fluorescent light above. His thighs straddle your waist, putting just enough weight down to keep you in place.

“No more tears.” He sighs, with down turned lips, but doesn’t pause his bunching of your tee shirt. “It’s clear I’ve been spoiling you too much.”

A broken grasp is pulled from your throat when he easily tears the shirt straight down the middle. You’re not sure what you are trying to accomplish as you swat at his working hands. The shirt was neither your favorite nor of great importance but you still try to stop the onslaught of ripping.

Confused and overwhelmed you squirm as he rips it into wide ribbons of fabric and then without warning you are flipped onto your stomach. You scramble to crawl away but Neteyam’s plants a foot on your ass and that is unfortunately all it takes to pin you down. Your hands are snatched next, forced together behind your back as the ripped stripes of your own shirt are used as makeshift rope to tie your wrists together.

Something about him using your own personal clothing to keep you bound for him has your legs kicking out fiercely. It won’t do much damage even if you manage to hit him, but there needs to be an outlet for your anger. You need to feel like there is still some wreckage for you to inflict. The last tiny shred of power that you cling to for dear life.

Neteyam isn’t in the mood to put up with your outbursts. Much like a fresh kill from his hunting trips he keeps you pinned and makes quick work of binding you imobile. The action is so well rehearsed and instinctual in fact that he already moves on to his next task of destroying your shorts.

Shrieks and small clawing fingers are simply background ambience for the Olo’eyktan as he works. Surprisingly the small tawtute sized Na’vi clothing is not exempt from the male’s destructive hands. They too become nothing more than rolling beads and scraps of fabric falling to the floor.

Your string of bloody curses are only temporarily interrupted by your own gasp when Neteyam takes a seat on the bed and throws you over his knee in one swift move. Kicking is no longer an option for your rage when he swings one leg over both of yours. Blood rushes to your head but even dizziness can’t stop your violent outrage.

However, it appears a cracking smack to your upturned ass can.

The pain doesn’t ripple forward until a few moments after your shock has subsided. Neteyam has always had creative ways of punishing you but this is different. You’d figured that he would never lay a hand on you after all that he has droned on and on about how important it is to protect a fragile thing like you.

But another hit accompanies the first and this time you can’t hold back your small squeak.

“Just as I thought.” He spanks you again, his hand mercilessly hitting both cheeks with every strike. “You’ve been practically begging for a firmer hand.” The cry that the next rapid three slaps pull from you is one that you don’t recognize.

“Pretty little things like you still struggle to remember their place.”

“Stop! Stop!” You shriek, trapped legs still fruitlessly sprawling for escape.

“Don’t worry, little gift.” He squeezes one of your pink cheeks after this last spank. “That’s what I am here for. I won’t let your silly little tawtute tendencies keep you away from me.”

It doesn’t take long for the color of your backside to match your face as the blood drains to your head. Neteyam is persistent, hardly batting an eye at your cries and shrieks. From cursing to death threats, none of your spewed venom makes him flinch. If anything you manage to catch his small smirk when you twist to glare up at him. You don’t make that mistake again when you find this behavior only rewards you with condescending coos from the Na’vi.

“That’s a good girl. Let all those nasty words go.” He purrs, heavy hand never letting up on your poor bottom.

It’s this praise that has your mouth clamping shut. You hold back any and every sound you can as your ass takes a beating. Which is not a lot when the Na’vi male has unfathomable strength and your backside already feels like flames could erupt from it at any moment.

“Oh pet, I’ve hardly even touched you and you’re already blushing so pretty for me.” Neteyam hums in delight, hand roaming over your burning ass like an art piece just waiting to be admired properly.

Hardly even touched you?

Is this just his way of being an ass or are you truly that far from the finish line?

You jolt when one finger slips between the crack of your cheeks, teasing over your hole gently. A sound caught between a scream and whimper erupts from you without thought. Bound hands flatten and flail to cover the untouched area but Neteyam simply chuckles and lets his own hand retreat.

“Mawey, tiyawn.” Neteyam pats your backside softly, almost in a casual reassuring manner. “Another day.”

It’s hard to say what is more humiliating. Being bound and turned over the Olo’eyktan’s knee like a naughty child or the wetness trickling from your pussy at the feel of his teasing fingers in a place you’ve never dared let anyone else explore before.

Pain is a great distraction from your humiliation. So much so that it eventually motivates you to dash pride to the side and begin your pleading.

“A-ah Neteyam! I’m sorry! I’m sorry…eh-ah I-I’ll be good!” It’s not even clear what you are trying to say anymore. Your mouth runs on autopilot, throwing out any line of remorse in hopes of one doing the job. “I ngh-ah didn’t mean to! I won’t run! Can’t take anymo- ah! Neteyam!”

He reigns his hits to warm the underside of your thighs too, moving between that vulnerable area and your ass in such an erratic way that it is impossible to anticipate where the next will land.

Plea after plea is thrown out but resembles nothing more than garbled desperation, nothing that can pass as a full sentence.

However, one call catches his attention.

“Olo’eyktan please!”

The sound of slapping skin stops.

Tears continue to plunge down your cheeks even without the constant spanking, your ass burns and tingles in shock. The tuft of his tail poruses over your naked thighs, sending a sensation both painful and ticklish.

“Repeat, pet.”

“Wha-what?” You stammer, voice thick with tears.

“What did you say?” That large hand comes down once more like a crack of lightning.

“AH! Olo’eyktan O-Olo’eyktan please please please. No more no more!”

He smooths over your knotted hair, pushing it away from your sweaty temple and tear stained face. It’s tempting to look away from his soft gaze but intuition tells you to let him see the trembling state he has left you in. Let him witness how pitiful and distraught a simple spanking has made you be.

“I….I’m sorry, Olo’eyktan.”

Neteyam smiles like one would at a lover, a tender pride lacing his lips.

“You’re learning, pet.”

Putting batteries in that small remote was a mistake. A ridiculous useless mistake that now leaves you standing on shaky legs. The pink vibrator that has resided in your nightstand drawer dutifully on hand for years is now the source of your torment.

Well, maybe not the source per say.

No, the true origin of this humiliation stares back at you with knowing eyes and swatting tail, his large hand making that tiny remote look like a children’s toy. The vibrator buzzes inside of you on the lowest setting, but that relief can only last for so long with the way Neteyam enjoys jumping between the different levels.

Every last shredded piece of your Na’vi and human clothing lays back on the floor of your old bedroom. The only savior of your decency is Neteyam’s cloak that he had thrown around your shoulders. With the size difference this cloak acts more like a dress and therefore gives you more coverage than you’ve had in a week yet somehow leaves you feeling more vulnerable than ever before. Trembling fingers never stray from the seams of the cloak, keeping it wrapped around you tightly as the crowds of humans and Na’vi continue to pass you.

Neteyam has left you with one of the other Na’vi warriors but never out of his sight. It’s a miracle that your hands were cut loose in the first place but perhaps that is another sick joke the Olo’eyktan plays on you. He knows that you won’t run. He knows you can’t run. His attention and promised consequences for misbehavior are more than enough to keep you tucked in his pocket.

That and of course his control over the rippling vibrations that torture your pussy.

The nearest warrior is sure to be noticing your frazzled state by now. At least he has the decency to hide his interest, unlike another Na’vi that watched from the sidelines. Lo’ak, leaned against one of the hoverships like it’s a random Tuesday afternoon, watches with a small smirk and perked ears. If Neteyam notices, he doesn’t seem to have a problem with it because Lo’ak is left unbothered in his ogling.

The tempo increases, the vibrator now picking a pattern of random pulses that bash against your sweet spot. Bottom lip bleeding now from your biting, it’s a struggle to keep your moans at bay. With the heavy machinery moving and hundreds of Na’vi and humans passing surely there must be enough noise to block out any degrading sounds you make. But you can’t take that risk. You’ve made the mistake of underestimating the Na’vi’s enhanced hearing before and that is what has landed you here.

Neteyam twirls the tiny remote between his fingers like a fidget toy as another Na’vi warrior comes to report.

You start to commiserate the loss of that ridiculous human sized loincloth Neteyam made you because at least then there was some fabric barrier to hide your wetness. Now, the thick Pandoran air runs up the cloak and over your soaked thighs and cunt. It reminds you constantly how pathetic you have become as orgasm after orgasm has escaped your grip. Even worse it reminds you how easy it is to carry that aroused scent through the breeze for all Na’vi to detect. At that rate, worrying about your noises is the least of your concerns.

Lo’ak reloads the machine gun with practiced hands, moving with muscle memory so he can continue to stare and send silent messages your way. No doubt he is theorizing on what exactly his brother has done to diminish you to such a state. His eyes dance with those ideas, the little quirk of his lips telling you just how creative and vial his thoughts have turned.

Another level up and this time it is Neteyam’s eyes that have you squirming. Your impending orgasm coils tighter and tighter with every passing second and you're so desperate to find some way to release this energy that your bare feet begin fidgeting against the concrete. It’s almost like a little dance, one that has Lo’ak laughing under his breath.

It stops.

You breathe.

There is some sort of commotion off in the distance. Not one that you can truly pin down the source of but you do notice the way Neteyam nods as a Na’vi female says something to him. With a wave she is dismissed and then the Olo’eyktan saunters off. Although slightly worried over the trouble, you are grateful for the respite.

And then a nightmare unfurls before your eyes.

Instead of marching to the issue, Neteyam takes a pit stop to converse with his younger brother. Lo’ak’s tail whips in the wind at whatever is whispered in his ear but the real horror comes when that traitor of a remote is handed over to the younger Sully male.

You are seconds away from stomping over there and crushing that pink little weapon before the other male can wield it. However, your dutiful guard places a hand on your shoulder after just one step. His eyes remain locked forward but the warning is enough as his hand retreats. You are still being watched.

With one last glance your way, Neteyam has the audacity to give you, his little pet, a warm smile before leaving you in the hands of his brother.

Lo’ak swings the gun around to his back in favor of playing with his new toy. Every dark and viscous fiber left within you is channeled into the glare you give him. It should say everything that your lips can not.

Don’t you dare.

Don’t you fucking dare.

Now would be a good time to look into Na’vi curses, anything you could betrix upon him for what he is about to do, because of course Lo’ak won’t back down. If anything that fire in your eyes lights his own delight and has him sitting down and bracing forward. Forearms resting on his thighs he clocks your every movement.

This is sure to be the best entertainment the bastard has had in a long time.

He savors the passing moments of anticipation. Never backing down from the ultimate seething looks you give him. Finally a crash sounds and that distraction is right when Lo’ak sets the vibrator to high. From zero to one hundred, pleasure rackets through you like a shock wave. The force is so much that it temporarily makes you stumble on your feet. The other guard wordlessly steadies you back into place.

Lo’ak’s grin is feral.

This silent battle slips between your fingers so quickly it is hard to comprehend, because all that can register in your brain is how fast you are hurtling towards an orgasm. After Neteyam’s denial your body is high strung and ready to take any sensation as fuel to push you over the edge. Nails digging into the soft fabric of Neteyam’s cloak, pleasure rockets higher and higher until only the whites of your eyes are visible.

Knees bowing inward, ecstasy is finally yours.

There isn’t enough energy left to question why Lo’ak let you reach your high. Instead you focus on riding that wave while simultaneously keeping upright.

That persistent buzzing against your sweet spot continues until your nerves are short circuiting. The pleasure turns to overstimulation and you give Lo’ak a look that alerts him of this change.

His amusement tells you that he already knows your predicament but his thumb remains far from the off button.

Pathetic noises now bubble up your throat without restraint as pleasure ebbs into pain. It switches back and forth until another release is on the verge of consuming your being. The guard next to you doesn’t say anything when he helps to sit on the cold ground.

The second orgasm has a bitter taste to it but your greedy pussy clenches around the toy all the same. It’s almost too bad that Neteyam decided not to gag you because at least that would muffle your cries as you rock down onto the toy. Lo’ak gulps at the sight, pupils blown wide when the first glimmer of tears scrape down your cheeks.

Regardless, he shows no mercy as he takes in the show with undivided interest.

Vaguely you register the bustle and commotion around you as different Na’vi and humans rush to and fro, giant machinery finally backing into place but they are only background noise to your third orgasm.

Your body is caught between delight and despair with every passing second. When you are close to reaching your peak for the fourth time your body is resistant to get you there all the way. The intense buzzing in your pussy is driving you wild but still not enough to drag out another orgasm after being too overstimulated. Despite the soreness that emanates from your wrecked hole, your clit throbs in agony. Begging to be touched. To be licked. Pinched. Flicked. God, anything at this point.

Memories of Neteyam doing just that surface, pushing you closer and closer to another dumbing climax and yet only serve as a reminder of how you are not getting the treatment you so desperately need. Pride is dashed to the side, you’ll worry about the consequences of grinding onto the toy in public later.

Lo’ak’s hands roughly brush over his inner thighs and it draws your attention. The taunt muscle and smooth skin of those thighs would surely brush over your intimate flesh so perfectly. He would probably help you too, hands clawing at your hips as they urge you back and forth over the area. Even more so, the younger brother would not be able to pass up the opportunity to show his power over the situation, muscles flexing to tease your clit oh so beautifully.

You’re not sure when Lo’ak became telepathic but he grips his knees and gives you a look that says he knows every dark desire that plagues your brain. His nails press into that soft flesh and drag until there are pretty red marks left behind. If you crawled over there sweetly, would he let you ride? Maybe if you healed those red marks with open mouthed kisses and kitten licks.

Unaroused you would be ashamed of this train of thought but she is so far gone now.

The only thing your poor abused cunt is begging for was attention. Anything to get this awful mix of heaven and hell to bleed into euphoric release and rest.

The only thing stopping you from reaching down and finishing the job yourself is the assurance that Lo’ak would snip all pleasure in a bud at the sight of any touching.

The area has been cleared of invaders. Na’vi begin to make their way off to the hills before take off but you are none the wiser. Caught in your own little bubble you don’t even notice when a sudden shadow blocks out the sun. That is until, large warm hands slip under the cloak and skate over your spread legs.

Such a simple touch has never made you whimper more.

Neteyam’s accent is thicker now, words heavy enough to hardly understand the meaning as he coos at you. “There’s my sweet pet. Little slut just wants to come again, don’t you?”

His fingers force your legs to spread even wider. Lo’ak’s stares as if his glare could heat up enough to burn through that cloak.

With such delicacy it makes you want to scream, Neteyam uses two fingers to part your pussy lips and expose your pulsing clit. The other hand slithers down to rest on your thigh as you try to buck against the air.

“Come for your Olo’eyktan, pet,” He growls and with the other hand he begins delivering rapid little taps to your clit. It’s humiliating how tiny the gesture that puts you over the edge is but you paint the toy white regardless.

When the vibrator finally takes a rest you are too far lost in your own little world. Neteyam swaddles you in the cloak and carries you in his arm as you bury into his chest. And conveniently, when you are tucked back in the forest there is no awareness left in you to recognize the sound of launching ships.

As always interaction and feedback not only means the world to me but also as a great motivator for writing and updating<3

Taglist: @pandoraslxna@neteyamssyulang@tallulah477@criticallybella@sullybrothersmate@lilghostiequinni@chershire23@lala-1516@teyamshuman@yawnetu@puddle-nerd@ratchetprime211@avatargirly @chocolatechocobo91 @kariz-stark@bunnscoffe @avatarwifey @universal-s1ut@witchsprit@heart-an0n @riri-is-a-girlie @rivatar@minnory@ikeyniofthetayrangi@ilovehobi101@spicymayyo@v4mp1rr3@nilsavatar@bambithewriter@quicktosimp@itchaboi-itchyboy@thehoneymushroomhealer @ilytulipse @witchsprit@imwutim@crazy4books1@thegirlwholoveslivesfanfiction@danniackerman@dayyzlol@justabite7 @krispyjellyfishkitty @neteyamtesuli @sakurayuki8655-blog @deadpool15 @valeriinee @leaveitbythewave @aqxllo @mxnygn @crazed-flower @crimsonroses666 @property-of-neteyam @rejectedbytheempty

Let me know if I missed you. It's getting a littly tricky to keep track of everyone haha

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kumkaniudaku · 3 months ago

Text

Stay A While

Summary: Terry's back home and trying to make amends with an old friend.

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Black!OC

Word Count: 3,944

Part: 1 of ??

Warnings and Notes: None. This one's a safe for work slow burn. Enjoy.

Drunk minds speak sober thoughts. Or at least Terry hoped that was the case as his thumb hovered over a familiar name in his contact list. A dingey hole in the wall became a haven on the tail end of his journey back to some sense of normalcy. He was down a bike, a truck, and a piece of his heart but continued to press on until fatigue forced him to stop for rest. The owner, a small woman with a big voice noticed his rough appearance as he passed by on foot and invited him inside to duck an incoming storm. She wouldn’t take no for an answer, even when he repeated that he had ground to make up before nightfall.

When she asked if he needed help he politely and foolishly declined all but a glass of brown liquor and access to an outlet. That same whiskey and a sprinkle of Motown-era love songs playing on a rickety jukebox had broken a grown man down enough to reach out to the one person who might still be willing to take him in. Even if only for a night.

Searching for extra courage, Terry took another sip of lukewarm Jack Daniels before tapping his phone screen. The line rang once, twice, and then a third time before a short pause signaled the call had connected.

The silence on the other him was loud, forcing him to speak up first.

“Hello?”

Fading voices and shuffling in the background were the only indicators of a presence on the other line, making Terry feel embarrassed for starting a call in the first place.

He cleared his throat before speaking again. “Hey, look… if now’s not a good time I ca -”

“Terrence? Did you mean to call me?”

“I, uh…yeah. I did. I’m sorry. I should’ve -”

“Are you okay? It’s loud wherever you are. You good? You hurt?”

“I could tell you if you would give me a chance to answer,” he chuckled. His amusement made her kiss her teeth in annoyance. “I’m okay. I’m a little banged up, but I’ve seen worse. I’m somewhere between Charlotte and home. Stopped in this spot for a drink and somewhere to sleep for the night.”

“And what does that have to do with me?”

Terry took another swig of whiskey and sighed. “Nothing, really. I was hoping I could see you, though. You know, when I make it back tomorrow.”

“You staying anywhere when you get here?”

“Not yet, but I’ll find somewhere. I know how to survive.”

“TJ…,” More silence. Thick. Long. Full of tension and years of baggage that they had yet to discuss. The other voice sighed before answering. “Come on by. I’ll have the back room ready for you. You need toiletries?”

Terry’s face softened into a near smile at the invitation. “Yes ma’am. A meal would be nice, too.”

“Okay. I’ll have you something if you can get here before dark tomorrow. Please be safe, Terrence. I mean it.”

Before he could attempt to extend the conversation, the call ended, leaving her contact photo in full view. Terry allowed a slow grin to spread across his face just as a short text with her address came across the screen.

“Another round, brother?”

Terry looked up from his phone to find an expectant expression on the bartender’s face. He shook his head and reached for the wallet in his back pocket. “Nah, but thanks, man. Think I’m gonna close my tab, actually. I gotta see about a bus ticket before it’s too late.”

“If you heading to her,” the man started, pointing toward Terry’s phone. “you need a cut, man. A lineup. Something. You look like what you been through. If you got $20, I can get you right.” A slight frown and knitted eyebrows in response made the bartender shoot his hands up in surrender. “I don’t want no problems, big dog. I just know what it’s like to see your lady after a hard time. Let me help you.”

A quick look into the black mirror of his cell phone screen forced Terry to reckon with his appearance. He couldn’t remember his last haircut and his mustache was starting to dwarf his upper lip. He sighed and reached into his back pocket.

“Extra $10 and you can get the face too?”

“Extra $20 and I’ll get you where you going myself.”

------

City noise had long been replaced by suburban quiet by the time Terry’s destination came into view. His friend back at the bar was true to his word and arranged transport that turned a 6-hour journey into 2 hours of UGK on the speakers, a little privacy, and AC on the hottest summer day so far.

After exchanging pleasantries and cash, Terry stepped out of the cramped Honda onto the smooth driveway pavement. Every house, street sign, and front yard looked exactly as he remembered them, bringing mixed emotions forward.

The short journey to her front step felt arduous for his tired legs, but he persisted until he was mere inches from the front door. He lifted his arms and prepared to knock but stopped short when it swung open unexpectedly.

“Knocking when I can hear those heavy feet from a mile away is courteous but unnecessary.”

He chuckled and rubbed a hand down the back of his head. “Good to see you too, Treece.”

Patrice greeted him with a half smile as she studied his appearance from toe to head. A few years and a little extra weight had done wonders. She settled on his eyes and softened her gaze. “You look good, TJ. Come in here and cool off.”

Stepping inside her home felt like walking into a time capsule. He’d spent so many after-school days and summer nights here that it felt like his childhood home not too far up the road. Photos from yesteryear lined the walls on the way to the living room where nothing had changed except new furniture and a bigger television on the TV stand. The heat from the oven mixing with a slight chill from the air conditioning unit kept the room comfortable enough to nap if he could settle for more than a few minutes.

Terry’s eyes drifted from his surroundings to Patrice as she led the way. Long braids covered the back of a high school t-shirt and jean shorts. Her brown skin had become golden under the North Carolina sun, making her glow a little in the morning light. Grown woman weight had settled onto her once thin frame, transforming her into a more of a mini version of her mother than before. All the changes he’d imagined when he had a free second were ions better in person.

Patrice gestured toward the leather recliner in the corner without speaking, inviting him to take a seat and settle in on her way to the stove.

They existed without words for a few minutes while she took fresh biscuits out of the oven and arranged them next to sausage patties and an omelet on one of her good porcelain plates. Terry trained his attention on his shoes, trying and failing to find a way to break the ice. He wanted to apologize. Confess his wrongs and desires in one grand speech designed to erase nearly ten years of absence. But the words wouldn’t form in his throat and the moment came and went.

Balancing a dinner tray in one hand and orange juice in the other, Patrice carefully made her way to his spot in the living room. Seeing her kind eyes calmed his nerves and set his chest ablaze.

“No more pork for you, right? This is chicken sausage from my Nana and them in the country.” She asked as she sat the tray on his lap.

He nodded in appreciation. “Yeah. You remembered?”

“You ain’t been gone that long, TJ. I still know who you are and what you like. That orange juice don’t have pulp in it either.”

“Thank you,” he said sheepishly before hanging his head to pray.

“Any time.”

A re-run of A Different World became the only sound in the room outside of an occasional content sigh from Terry as he tore through his breakfast. Patrice watched in amusement until her broad smile caught his attention. He slowed in embarrassment and returned the stare long enough to induce loud laughter from both of them.

“I look crazy, huh?”

“No,” she assured with a sweet smile. “You just look like you're happy to be back home, is all. Fayetteville missed you.”

“All of Fayetteville or someone specific?”

“Don’t start, TJ.”

“I’m only asking a question.” He answered without making eye contact. “You know you’re the only one who still calls me that?”

“What? TJ? That’s your name.”

“Yeah, but…you know. It’s not 2010 anymore.”

Patrice shrugged and settled deeper into the couch. “Considering that’s about the last time I saw you in the flesh, I guess it stuck for me. But, I can call you Terrence if you like.”

“Nah, TJ’s good. I like it. From you…specifically.”

The pair exchanged equally bashful looks, both too shy to say anything that would incriminate themselves. Instead, they watched the television in silence and stole looks until a commercial break took away their distraction.

Without speaking, Terry began to gather dishes and stand, prompting Patrice to rush over before he could move too far.

“Treece, I can do it.”

“I know,” she answered in a sing-song voice while sliding the tray from his grasp. “But I haven’t done this for you in a while. Let me love on you a little bit.”

His eyes tracked her every move until she was behind him at the kitchen sink. Boyish nervousness made him twiddle his thumbs until words came rushing out like water from a burst pipe as he sat back down.

“So, how you doing? How you been?”

“I’ve been okay. Mostly work and no play, you know. Thankful to be out of that classroom for a few weeks and get some peace.”

“Yeah? Kids driving you crazy?”

“Baby, the kids, their parents, and my parents are driving me to drink,” she laughed. “I can’t catch a break.”

“What about your man? He driving you crazy?”

Patrice scoffed and shook her head. Her mama and his mama talked too much. Terry chewed his bottom lip, hoping he didn’t offend.

“We…aren’t together anymore. Hard to build a family together when he’s off building one across town.”

Terry craned his neck around the armchair to make sympathetic eye contact. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know that part. I wouldn’t have said anything.”

“It’s alright. I gave it to God a long time ago. Maybe I’m not meant to be anybody’s wife yet.”

“Maybe you weren’t meant to be his wife.”

“Well, it’s not like any suitors are knocking down my door for my hand in marriage.”

“Probably because you keep swinging it open before anybody gets a chance.”

Patrice rolled her eyes and flashed her middle finger in Terry’s direction. “Ha-ha. I see you didn’t lose your jokes at Lejeune. Only your ability to keep in touch.”

Her retort left a shallow cut in Terry’s ego, making him turn his attention back to the television. He knew he’d broken a decades-old promise and that atoning for his sins would take time. But he also knew that, at any moment, Patrice could send him back into the world with nothing more than a full belly and a swift kick in the ass. He had to tread lightly.

Taking the lull in conversation as his opportunity to lick his wounds in private, Terry stood and gathered his belongings in both hands. Patrice watched him from her spot with an apologetic expression.

“You don’t have to leave. Got a couple errands to run so it’ll be quiet in here. Take the whole couch if you want.”

“That’s alright, but thank you. Figure I can make myself useful and cut the yard. Maybe unpack some of this stuff if that’s alright with you. You got a mower?”

“Yeah, it’s back there,” she answered, gesturing toward the backyard with her head. “Will you be here when I get back?”

Sensing the hidden motivation behind her question, Terry dropped his bag to the ground and made his way into the kitchen. Cautiously, he leaned down to press a short kiss to Patrice’s forehead before using his index finger to tilt her head upward and meet his eyeline. “Yes. I promise. You don’t need to worry about me.”

Her eyes fluttered closed for a half second while she nodded her understanding. A wave of relief made the hair on her arms stand at attention but she quickly bit back any urge to engage further.

“You looked tired when you got in,” Patrice started, turning her back to Terry to conceal her flustered face. “I cleared Junior’s old bed back there. It’s a little small but sturdy. The sheets are fresh. Let me know if you need more blankets. I like it cold at night.”

“I’ll survive, girl. I’ve slept in worse places than a full-sized bed. Thank you.”

A split second of hesitation kept their eyes glued to one another until Terry ended the stalemate by backing out of the room and disappearing down the hallway.

Patrice took his absence as an opportunity to compose herself. Busy hands and racing thoughts fueled a cleaning marathon until tasks that had long fallen to the bottom of her to-do list were crossed off.

For hours they co-existed without many words exchanged. Occasionally, Patrice would steal glances at Terry while he meticulously tended to the lawn and bushes. When he could, Terry made a point to brush up against her when he walked past and agree with each of her many suggestions. Being in her space was enough for him and he dared not upset the natural harmony.

By the time dinner rolled around, they had found a groove. A quiet dinner led to an even quieter cleanup shift and quick good nights exchanged after watching Jeopardy together.

Terry left Patrice to her own devices while he fought to acclimate to such cushy surroundings. Try as he might, he couldn’t get used to the soft mattress below him or the near-frigid temperature in the house. Tossing and turning left him unsatisfied. The walls felt like they were converging. Flashbacks were turning into night sweats. He needed to escape.

Slowly, he slid out of bed and into a pair of slippers Patrice had gifted him earlier in the day. Measured steps help him sneak past her bed bedroom, out of the back door, and down into the backyard without causing a disturbance.

The early June air was balmy, clinging to the skin beneath his t-shirt. In the distance loud bass from someone’s car speaker vibrated until it was out of earshot. Dogs barked and howled to salute the moon worked in tandem with the faint smell of charcoal cooling from a night of backyard barbecues to remind him that he was far from the trouble of Shelby Springs.

It’d been a while since he could enjoy the night without being on high alert. The last week was a special kind of hell that he feared he could never shake. The urge to flee was beginning to creep in like the tide, threatening to wash away what little progress he’d made.

After a few deep breaths and mumbled prayer, Terry retreated to a porch swing to rest his weary legs. His shoulders relaxed as soon as his backside met the aged oak and, almost instantly, he felt safe enough to close his eyes. One deep breath turned into another until he was drifting into his first peaceful sleep in weeks.

Minutes passed like seconds. Thoughts slowed to a halt. His heartbeat regulated. Near bliss was upon him.

Inside, a single lamp flipped on to illuminate Patrice’s path as she searched the house for her guest. His room and bathroom had turned up empty results with almost no sign that he’d been there throughout the day. He wasn’t on the couch or in the kitchen raiding the fridge like she half expected. Worry had all but made her pass out until she heard the slight creak of her swing on the porch, making his head appear and disappear from the window above the sink.

She couldn’t fully open the door before Terry opened one eye and looked in her direction. She froze and he smiled.

“Feet not as heavy as you thought, huh?”

“Yeah, yeah. If I’d known you trade in a bed for this old thing I wouldn’t have wasted my time on laundry.”

“Hey, I built this old thing, remember?”

Patrice chuckled at the memory and pointed at the metal chain keeping the swing in place. “Damn near lost a finger behind it, too.”

“Would’ve been worth it knowing you were happy.” Patrice nervously shifted her weight from left to right under Terry’s intense gaze while he took his turn to look her over. Finally noticing her awkwardly standing between the screendoor, he motioned to the spot beside him. “Sit with me for a second.”

Patrice visibly wrestled with her decision but ultimately joined him. They maintained a careful distance, being sure to keep their individual limbs from connecting for fear that the mere sensation would set them ablaze. They played a childish game of cat and mouse until Patrice spoke.

“I was rude earlier,” Patrice confessed while fiddling with the hem of her t-shirt. Terry closed his heavy eyes to cure the burning sensation growing by the minute but acknowledged her statement with a confused grunt. She continued. “I never asked how you were doing. The whole thing about my ex sort of brought up old feelings.”

He frowned, hurt by her revelation. “You know I wasn’t trying to hurt you, right?”

“You never are. Same ol’ honorable TJ. Terry, I mean.”

“TJ for you.”

Again he popped one eye open and paired it with a grin that disamered Patrice and made her giggle like her high school self. The sound had him resolve that he’d spend his whole life making stupid faces if it meant she’d get some joy from them.

“You ready to tell me everything I missed or are you content with popping up on my porch? And how long do you plan to be here eating all my food, anyway?”

“I don’t think you wanna hear that,” he answered in an attempt to dodge the loaded question. Patrice persisted.

“No, I do. I see the tattoos and the fresh haircut. TJ turned into a man while he was gone. At least let me get to know this new person.”

“I grew up,” he sighed after some time. “Gained some. Lost a lot. Still trying to pick up the pieces.”

“What’d you lose?”

“Lately? Money. Family. Shit, my mind.”

“Why?”

“Mike died.” An abrupt interruption of an already complicated conversation brought forth a long pause. He waited for an interjection but found none, prompting him to offer more details. “He was killed. In jail. I tried to get him out and bring him home but I was too late.” Terry answered without making eye contact. Shame wouldn’t allow him to meet her potential judgment.

Patrice mentally cycled through names and faces until she realized the gravity of Terry’s statement. She reached out to breach their unspoken barrier and grabbed his hand which he accepted with no pushback.

“You wanna talk about it?”

“Not really,” he answered before squeezing her hand and finally returning her eye contact. “I handled everything. It’s over for now. I’m here with you. We can focus on that.”

“Even though you keep skipping how long you’ll stay.”

Patrice’s warmth was starting to take a backseat to her cold nature. Old wounds had started to re-open and rebuild a wall they both thought they’d successfully hurdled. Despite her attempt to pull her hand out of his grasp, Terry stayed put. He eyed her for a moment, picking up on a thin veil of tears threatening to form at her water line.

She watched his normally steely blue-gray eyes soften into something that mirrored the softness he carried when they were kids. She couldn’t find the gumption to look away as he brought her knuckles up to his lips for a set of short kisses before looking back up at her. Pleading. Begging for any indication that she had softened her heart toward him.

“Treecey, I’m sorry. I don’t know how else to say it. You meant more to me than the way I left and I pray every day for a chance to make it right. We crossed a line that night and I wasn’t sure what to do. I didn’t handle that like a man should have. I’m sorry until I’m blue in the face.”

Sincerity was thick in his voice despite his low, even tone.

Patrice listened without a word. A single tear cascaded down her face despite her valiant attempts to keep her emotions at bay. She swore she’d never cry about Terrence Richmond again. But old habits die hard.

Terry used his free hand to swipe away that tear and the next one sitting at her lower lash line with the pad of his thumb.

“Say something,” he pleaded. “Anything. Tell me you hate me.”

“You know I don’t hate you,” she whispered, too choked up to continue without a deep breath. “I…I just feel like you took a piece of me with you, you know? And you never wrote back. You never called. You shut me out like we were never friends. We could’ve gone back to how things were.”

“I fucked that up.”

“I’m aware. But that doesn’t mean that I trust you won’t do it again. No matter how much I don’t hate you, I’m not eighteen anymore. My patience is thin. I can’t allow you to turn my world upside down again.”

“Hand to God I wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Yeah. I hope so.” Though she whispered, Patrice’s words sliced through Terry like a hot knife through butter.

He hung his head in defeat as she pulled her hand from his grasp and made quick work of standing from the bench. Her footsteps retreated past him and to the back door until she paused.

He looked over his shoulder to find her eyes closed and chin pointed to the sky in contemplative silence. This was it. The final blow.

She took a deep breath and stared straight ahead. “Stay as long as you want. Junior’s living with his girlfriend now, so nobody’s coming to make you leave. Tomorrow, we can go get you some new clothes. I’m tired of looking at those raggedy t-shirts already.”

Terry took her jab in stride and gave her a half smile as a sign of compliance. “Yes ma’am. Thank you.”

“Mhm. Lock the door behind you when you come in.”

“Good night, Treecey.” His farewell came in an annoyingly sweet voice as a last-ditch effort to drag some loving words from her. Patrice stopped and gave him one more once over and a dismissive eye roll.

He waited for the ghost of a smile that disappeared before he could blink. She shook her head and took a step inside the house.

“Shut up, Terry. Go to bed.”

Terry hid his amusement until she was out of sight, leaving him alone to grin at how even her rebukes felt like love letters.

“Shut up,” he repeated to himself as he closed his eyes to doze again. “Hm. I’ll take it.”

TAGS: @planetblaque

Happy to tag whoever is interested.

#terry richmond #terry richmond x oc #rebel ridge #aaron pierre

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daisymbin · 26 days ago

Note

hi sorry 5+9 for seungcheol from the fluff list thank you!!!

of course!! 🤍

request your own: full prompt list!

check out my masterlist! // cheol's m.list

fluff prompt #5: "you can stay over if you want." +

fluff prompt #9: "I didn't mean to fall asleep on your couch."

you sat up slowly, glancing around the living room. the warm glow of the lamps illuminated the space. everything felt fuzzy for a moment, and then you realized you were lying on seungcheol’s couch, his soft throw blanket tangled around your legs. but it was late—way later than you expected. a quick glance at your phone confirmed that it was nearly 3am you groaned, rubbing your eyes.

the last thing you wanted was to make things awkward, especially since this wasn’t the first time you’d ended up here after a late night of hanging out. but you had to admit, you had been exhausted. the movie marathon had ended in a comfortable silence, and the next thing you knew, you were drifting off.

you shifted and tried to stand up, but your legs were still a little stiff from lying down for too long. as you stood, you heard a familiar voice from the hallway.

“did you just wake up?” seungcheol’s voice was soft but teasing as he emerged from his room, his hair slightly messy as though he had just woken up himself. he paused when he saw you, a smile spreading across his face.

“yeah,” you said embarrassingly, feeling your cheeks warm. “i didn’t mean to fall asleep on your couch... it just happened.”

he chuckled, shaking his head as he walked toward you. “you’ve been working hard lately. you looked peaceful so i didnt wake you. you probably needed the rest.”

you met his gaze, his dark eyes soft and kind, and your heart gave a little flutter. it wasn’t the first time he’d been so caring toward you, but there was something about the way he said it that made you feel warm all over.

“thanks, cheol,” you murmured, giving him a small smile as you pulled the blanket off your legs and stood up a little straighter.

he watched you for a moment, his eyes scanning over you like he was taking you in, making sure you were okay. then, his expression softened, and his tone became more casual. “my bed’s a lot more comfortable, you know?”

you blinked in surprise, caught off guard by the suggestion. "what?"

"i mean," he said with a slight shrug, his lips curving into a playful smile, "if you’re gonna stay over, you might as well be comfortable. the couch is nice and all, but you looked a little cramped there."

your cheeks flushed, suddenly feeling more self-conscious. "uh, it’s fine, really, i’m okay here."

seungcheol raised an eyebrow, not buying it for a second. he stepped closer to you, his voice softening. “you can stay over if you want. no pressure. it’s late.”

you felt your heart race a little, unsure of what to say. you were already over here, and the idea of sleeping in his bed—especially in his bed—sounded tempting, but a little too intimate. but then again, you didn’t want to leave now. it was comfy here with him, and you felt safe in his presence. the thought of spending more time with him, just the two of you, felt so comforting.

“are you sure?” you asked, voice barely above a whisper.

he nodded, “and i’m not just saying that to be polite.” he paused, his eyes softening again as he smiled at you, his warmth radiating toward you. “besides, i’d rather you be comfortable.”

you bit your lip, feeling the warmth spread in your chest. you had to admit, his offer was hard to resist. after all, it wasn’t like you didn’t enjoy his company. more than that, you’d be lying if you said the idea of lying next to him, feeling the warmth of his presence, wasn’t incredibly tempting.

“okay,” you said, finally giving in.

seungcheol’s smile widened, and you swore you saw a little sparkle in his eyes as he motioned toward the hallway. “let’s get you in a better spot then.”

as you followed him down the hallway to his room, your mind was racing. you had stayed over at his place before, but you’d never actually spent the night in his bed. the idea felt thrilling, like something out of a dream.

you stepped into the room, and it was just as cozy as the rest of his apartment—dark, soft lighting, a comfortable bed, and a calming atmosphere. you glanced over at the bed and then at him, feeling your heart beat faster. it felt different now. more intimate.

"you sure you want me in here?" you asked, suddenly feeling self-conscious again.

“hey,” seungcheol said, his voice gentle but firm as he walked over to the bed, pulling the covers back. “we’re friends, right? just two friends hanging out, and honestly, i’m happy you’re here.”

you nodded, trying to push aside the butterflies in your stomach as you sat on the edge of the bed, feeling the softness of the sheets beneath you. it was so different from the couch, but in a good way. seungcheol moved to sit beside you, his arm casually brushing against yours, and you couldn’t help but feel a little thrill at the closeness.

"you know," he started, a mischievous glint in his eyes, "it’s a lot more comfortable here than on the couch. i don’t think you’ll be able to get up anytime soon.”

you laughed nervously, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks as you looked away. "yeah, i can tell. it’s so much better here."

“good,” he said, a soft chuckle escaping his lips as he shifted closer to you. "i’m glad you’re comfortable.”

you both sat in silence for a moment, the tension in the air hanging delicately between the two of you. you felt like there was so much unsaid, like a million emotions were swirling between the two of you, but neither of you said anything. just the gentle hum of the night filled the space.

finally, seungcheol spoke again, breaking the silence. “you know, if you wanted, you could just stay here... forever.”

you blinked at him, surprised by his sudden boldness. “forever?” you asked in confusion, feeling your heart rate spike a little. surely he didn’t mean that in the way you were thinking.

seungcheol gave you a playful smile, his eyes glinting with mischief. “you can stay here as long as you want. i’m not going anywhere, and neither are you. what’s the hurry?”

you stared at him, still unsure how to react, but a soft laugh escaped your lips as the tension in the room shifted. maybe this was just his way of teasing you, but somehow, it felt different. like he meant it.

you leaned back against the pillow, glancing over at him. “maybe i will. maybe i’ll just stay a little longer.”

seungcheol grinned, leaning back too, his arm brushing against yours. "i’m okay with that," he said, his voice softening as he relaxed beside you. "just don’t go falling asleep on me again, okay?"

you smiled, feeling the comfort of his presence surround you. "no promises."

and with that, you both lay there in a comfortable silence, the warmth between you both growing, unspoken but undeniable. maybe it wasn’t forever yet—but it certainly felt like the start of something close to it.

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iamgonnagetyouback · 2 months ago

Text

𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐃 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆

♡ ︎ꜱʜɪᴘ: Mattheo Riddle x Reader

You sit at the small, candle-lit table in the cozy café, staring at your boyfriend Mattheo, who is currently giving Theo his undivided attention. What was supposed to be a romantic evening between the two of you has been thoroughly hijacked by none other than Theodore Nott, who sits directly across from you both, ranting about Quidditch—again.

Your jaw clenches as Theo goes on, passionately describing some absurd play he saw during the last match, waving his hands around like he’s delivering a TED Talk. Mattheo nods along, clearly entertained.

“Honestly, Mattheo,” Theo says, leaning forward dramatically, “the way the Chasers were handling the Quaffle, it was like they were intentionally throwing the game! The whole thing was a disaster.”

You roll your eyes, stirring your drink just to give your hands something to do before you snap. You came here for a cozy date with your boyfriend, not to sit through another episode of Theo’s Quidditch Chronicles. Noticing that Mattheo hasn’t looked your way in ten minutes, you decide to take matters into your own hands.

You gently place a hand on Mattheo’s arm, trying to pull his attention back to you. “Matty,” you say sweetly, leaning in slightly, “do you want to order dessert now? Maybe something to share?”

Mattheo finally turns to you, a soft smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah, babe, sounds good. What were you thinking?”

But before you can respond, Theo cuts in—again. “Hold on, hold on, Mattheo, you’re not gonna believe this next part.” He leans forward, effectively blocking you out of the conversation once more. “The Seeker, right? He—”

You let out a frustrated sigh, and Mattheo gives you an apologetic look. You’ve had it.

“Theo,” you say, your voice tight with forced patience, “do you mind? We were in the middle of something.”

Theo, unfazed, looks at you with wide, innocent eyes. “Oh, I’m sorry, were you saying something?” His tone drips with faux politeness, and you resist the urge to smack him.

“Yes, actually, I was,” you snap, your jaw clenched. “I was talking to my boyfriend.”

Theo raises an eyebrow, leaning back in his chair as if amused. “Oh, really? Because it seems like my best friend here was more interested in Quidditch.”

You blink at him, feeling your temper flare. “Well, my boyfriend was supposed to be on a date with me, not getting sucked into yet another one of your rants.”

Theo scoffs. “Please, I’m doing you a favor. Do you know how much effort it takes to tolerate Mattheo? I’ve been carrying this friendship for years.”

Your eyes narrow. “You tolerate him? I’ve been dealing with his obsession with dark arts books, his constant need to brood, and don’t even get me started on his messy habits.”

Theo snorts. “Oh, honey, you have no idea. He still hasn’t returned the book I lent him three months ago. I think he’s using it as a doorstop at this point.”

Mattheo, sitting between the two of you, looks utterly baffled, his gaze darting between you and Theo like he’s watching a tennis match. “Uh… guys? I feel like we’re getting a bit off-topic here…”

But you and Theo turn to him in unison, voices sharp.

“Shut up, Mattheo!”

Mattheo’s mouth snaps shut, his eyes wide with shock.

You and Theo turn back to each other, both of you now bonded in your mutual frustration. “He leaves his socks everywhere,” you mutter, crossing your arms.

Theo nods in agreement. “Tell me about it. And he’s always late for our gaming sessions. I swear, he takes longer to get ready than anyone I know.”

“He spends hours in front of the mirror messing with his hair,” you add, glaring at Mattheo for emphasis.

Theo sighs dramatically. “And he has this annoying habit of—wait, what’s with the hair thing? He does that with you too?”

“Every day,” you groan.

Mattheo, now completely lost, throws his hands up in defeat. “What—how did this even turn into—are you two seriously ganging up on me right now?”

You and Theo exchange a look before nodding in unison.

“Yes,” you say, deadpan.

Mattheo blinks, looking utterly dumbfounded. “But… this was supposed to be a date?”

Theo shrugs. “I mean, it’s not my fault you’re an equal-opportunity annoyance.”

You chuckle despite yourself, while Mattheo looks like he’s trying to process how this all spiraled so quickly. He glances between you and Theo, his confusion only growing as the two of you continue your back-and-forth, now completely bonded over your shared grievances about him.

“So, what? Now you two are just… best friends?” Mattheo asks, incredulous.

You and Theo look at each other again, then back at Mattheo.

“Obviously,” you both say at the same time.

Mattheo groans, dropping his head into his hands. “Merlin’s beard… what have I done?”

Theo smirks, leaning back in his chair. “Congratulations, mate. You’ve officially become the least important person at this table.”

You laugh, and even though Mattheo’s clearly exasperated, you can’t help but feel like the night just got a whole lot more entertaining.

inspired by Babe by @thatdammchickennugget!!

#mattheo riddle fluff #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle #theodore nott #theodore nott fluff #theo nott x reader #theodore nott x reader

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nonushu · 4 months ago

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stained but loved - chwe hansol

genre: fluff, comfort | wc: 430 | warnings: crying over spilled food lol | bf!vernon x reader a/n: i feel like vernon would drop spaghetti on your outfit by accident

there's a sting of disappointment in you as vernon leads you outside the restaurant. it doesn't linger any less when you enter the cool evening air.

"it's really not that bad," he tries to reassure you, his hand gentle on your shoulder. he pulls you away from the exit, trying to distract you from looking at your outfit.

"you're right," you mumble before peering at the bright red stain. "it's really bad."

vernon shakes his head and steps in front of you, using both his hands to make you gently face him. his leather jacket creaks slightly as he moves, the black material contrasting with his perfectly styled hair.

his dark eyes search yours, that apologetic look of his that makes your heartache. but the corners of his lips twitch as if he's trying to hold back a laugh.

"y/n, please," he says tenderly. "it's just spaghetti sauce."

"that is now stained in the fabric!" you bite your lips, tears welling up no matter how hard you try to hold them back. "i just wanted to look good for you." you whisper, your voice cracking.

vernon's eyes widened, a small smile tugging at his lips. seeing him, you can't help but feel your smile threaten through the pout.

"and you do," he says firmly, thumbs brushing against your cheeks, wiping away the stray tears.

you sigh. "no, vernon—"

"and a little spaghetti sauce isn't going to change that," he interrupts. "you looked pretty when you walked in, and you're still pretty when we walked out."

he faintly steps back, taking the sight of you under the soft glow of the moonlight, and knows he's fallen in love again. everything about you makes his heart swell, the way the light reflects on your skin and how your hair catches the breeze.

and here you are, on the verge of more tears and a spaghetti-stained outfit, yet you're still the most beautiful person he's ever seen.

"i think i just fell in love with you again," he blurts without thinking.

you blink, confused and a bit startled but it makes you forget about the stain. he shook his head again, quickly brushing off his spoken-out-loud inner thought.

"uh, babe, i'm really sorry about the spaghetti," vernon squeezes your hand, his thumb tracing patterns on your skin. "so, what do you say we forget about the spaghetti 'n walk around? get some ice cream?"

you nod, a small grin forming through your own tears. "y-yeah, okay," you agree. "you're paying for the dry cleaner, though." you say, hand tightening in his.

“fair enough,” he chuckles, leading you away.

#버논 #nonushu.drabble #vernon x reader #seventeen x reader #vernon x you #seventeen x you #vernon x y/n #seventeen x y/n #vernon imagines #seventeen imagines #vernon fluff #vernon fanfic #seventeen fluff #seventeen fanfic #vernon #seventeen #nonushu.works

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with-my-calamitous-love · 2 months ago

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YOUR HEART WAS GLASS, I DROPPED IT ❆

katsuki bakugou x reader

on a cold winter night, you open the door for your warm, ex boyfriend katsuki.

part 2/2. i’m sorry tumblrs not letting me link anything atm :(

inspired by champagne problems

katsuki booked his flight home at night for a reason.

it was dark, meaning no one really would be out. he wanted to be alone and sit there in his hurt. he wasn’t sure what he hated more- the bustling crowds or silent sleepers. both of them had a clear absence of you.

the winter chill seeps into his bones as he waits outside your door. after the phone hangs up, we anxiously wonders if you’ll even answer it. its -26°, and he can only imagine your bundled up in there. its the place he left you standing before hoping on a plane and abandoning what he had with you.

he’s about to turn away, before he hears your voice. “get in here, it’s freezing.”

he immediately obliges, stepping into the familiar space. crimson eyes stare at you, noticing your different appearance. you’ve cut your hair and pierced your ears. theres an ache in his chest seeing you for the first time again. suddenly the apartment began to feel much warmer.

“your hair. its… shorter.” he awkwardly mutters like a teenage boy asking you to a dance.

“uh, yeah. i wanted a change.” you chuckle, no less uncomfortable than him.

he wants to take your hand, but he’s scared he’ll drop it again. your place was cozy, yet crestfallen. he remembered you told him you never particularly enjoyed living alone. you lead him to the living room. there, he sees your cats cuddling, slightly jealous of the companionship they share.

its here he notices that its still chilly, albeit not as cold as outside. he quickly clutches his hands around the warm cup of tea you bring him, taking in the mundane sounds of your apartment. leftovers on the stove, the dripping of the sink, and the soft snores of your feline companions.

“sorry, my heaters still broken.” you apologetically quip, sitting down next to him on the couch. katsuki mentally facepalms himself for that. he said he’d fix it for you before he left.

“yeah. guess i forgot about that.” he says, barely looking you in the eye. if he was gonna break up with you, leave you stranded and hop on a flight out of the country, you think the least he could do is make sure you stayed warm- but no.

“why didn’t you get it fixed yourself?” he asks, his usual gruff voice replaced by a particular softness for you.

you just shrug. “i don’t know. i never got around to it. winter came early.”

the both of you remember when you first got together. he told his family for a reason. he was so excited, saying he found the one. a few months later, no one was celebrating.

love slipped beyond his reaches the day he began doubting himself. he wasn’t good enough for you. becoming the #1 hero in his country only made him wonder more about his worth. he could barely give a reason towards the break up, instead spewing out that he needed to think things through instead.

“..how was your trip?” you break the silence, though you know the answer. his trip was great. the media wouldn’t shut up about it. about his parties and award shows, about the lives he saved and the talents he has. they particularly the people, more so the girls he was with. though you decided not to bring that part up.

he paused for a moment. he knew you would say something about it soon. he was being watched and photographed everywhere he went, which included a few girls who got some videos and pictures with him.

“it was exhausting, more than fun. you know all those girls only care about publicity and attention, none of it was real.” he sighs, taking a sip of his tea.

“i didn’t bring up girls.” you’re quick to remind him. though its nice how he’s so quick to assure any doubts you may have. “but… yeah. i figured as much.”

“you know nothing happened between me and anyone you saw, right?” he asks in a tone that makes it sound like it should be obvious- but its not. katsuki could have went home with someone else, done illicit drugs, drank and had unprotected sex, and it wouldn’t be any of your business.

“it… wouldn’t matter anymore if you did. we broke up before you left, remember?” you say.

theres nothing with katsuki’s memory. he thinks about that break up every damn night.

“um.. least you had kirishima with you.” you quip, just trying to lighten the mood. you get a genuine smile out of the blonde.

“yeah. shitty hair was annoying, as usual.” he chuckles fondly. only best friends can refer to each other like that.

shitty hair was also the guy that kept katsuki from doing something, or rather someone, he might regret. he knows his best friend and he knows where his feelings lie.

katsuki was midas. everything he touched turned to gold. and people adored him for it, revelling in the fame and fortune. but with that superpower comes consequences. not everything should b shiny and gold. sure, his midas touch on the chevy door looked beautiful, but you two could never actually drive it. your relationship shimmered and glistened, but it never went anywhere.

but for a moment, things were good. you’d laugh and smile with your group of friends- though after the breakup you believed you’d never say that word again. now, those friends have the nerve to deck the halls that katsuki once loved you in.

he never was ready, so you watched him go. neither of you just didn’t know the answer, even after begging him to stay on your knees.

you would have made such a lovely bride. what a shamed he’s fucked in the head. even though to him you were the real thing.

he still has your picture in his wallet. he wants to your hold hand dancing, and never leave you like he did ever again.

“…what happened to us, anyway?” he dares to ask, his whisper speaking volumes in the silence. he knows the answer. he knows why he did what he did. but you suppose he wants to know what you think.

“one moment you love me, and your promising to fix my heater… next thing i know, you’ve gotta think things through. and then you’re on a plane to los angeles.”

he flinches at that. kind of a dick move on his part, not explaining things and immediately fleeing the country afterwards. to be fair, it was a pr trip he had planned months before, but if that wasn’t the case he’d still book a spontaneous trip to alberta or somewhere, like the coward he is.

he feels the most guilt when you bring up the heater he said he’d fix. it wasn’t the only thing he promised you. he swore you’d always be loved, that you’d never be alone, and yet he couldn’t even give you a god damn warm apartment for the winter.

“i did love you.” he attempts to correct you, though you focus only on one word.

“did?” you ask, hesitantly.

he pauses again, realizing his slip up.

“…i do love you.”

you shake your head silently, eyes welling up with tears. one falls into your cup of tea. “don’t… don’t say that just to make me feel better, kats.”

but he’s not. he’s saying it because he means it. he’s saying it because he’s kept his mothers ring in his pocket, preparing for the moment he’ll make it your ring.

at this point, he can tell the cold is getting to you. your shaking slightly, your loose sweater respectfully doing nothing to shield you from the winter air. a broken heater neglected by a shitty ex-boyfriend is enough cold.

“you’re cold?” he asks. “no, i’m warm.” you answer sarcastically. its his fault for asking.

he debates on it for a moment. normally, he wouldn’t think twice before pulling you into his embrace. but now, he worries. he wonders if thats even what you want. his quirk keeps him warm enough, but you don’t have that. seeing your reaction to the bitter winter air pushes him to a decision.

“c’mere.”

maybe its the cold, the ache in your heart missing him, or some combination of both, but you don’t think twice before shuffling over to him on the couch as he wraps his arms around you. your head lays against his chest, listening to the rise and fall of his heartbeat and the warmth of his embrace.

god, he missed this. even the warmth of LA didn’t compare to holding you on a chilled night.

“you’re the worst.” you whisper, obviously still angry and heartbroken, yet still in his embrace. “i love you.”

those words feel like a confession. he takes it, both the proclamation of his faults and the admission that you still love him. both are true.

“i love you too, dumbass.” he says. “and i’m not just saying that.”

you perk your head up slightly, finally asking the million-dollar question: “..then why’d you break things off?”

he looks at you. he knows exactly why. but he’s not sure if he can break it to you yet. ultimately, he decides you deserve the truth.

with a sigh, he finally speaks. “i… i don’t know. i thought it would be better for you. i thought you’d be happier without me dragging you down, babe.”

you look into his red eyes and determine that he is, in fact, telling the truth- despite how fabricated it sounds. katsuki bakugou, the incredible #1 hero who was the best of the best, thought he wasn’t good enough?

yeah, thats exactly the case. because even through his heroic outside, katsuki wondered if you deserved more. or better.

he sees the confusion in your eyes and decided to explain his thoughts further. “i thought you’d be better off without me, with someone else. i thought you’d find someone better than me who didn’t have such a shitty personality, someone who you’d be better with.”

you shake your head, making sure he hears you. “i know you’ve been doubting yourself since you became #1… wondering if you’re good enough or not, but… i thought you’d at least know you’re good enough for me.”

its crazy to him how easy it was for his fears to die down if he had just talked to you in the first place. he’s learned his lesson.

so he nods, pressing a kiss and an “i’m sorry” to your forehead. you continue talking to him.

“you’re shitty, and you’re kind of an asshole.” you chuckle. “you’re also really sweet when it counts. you remember things about me. you fix things, i guess except for my heater… you’re good to me. you try. you try harder with me than with anything else in your life.”

he couldn’t help but smile a little at the truth in your words. even counting his time in UA, his relentless training to become a hero, katsuki tried the hardest to become better for you. “yeah. you make me wanna change.”

he presses his forehead to yours, just relishing in the newfound warmth. he’s happy, content.

“lets call it even.” you whisper, fingers intertwining with his. “i didn’t think i was good enough for you either.”

he almost scoffs at that. “you’re an idiot for thinkin’ that.”

you roll your eyes. “so are you.”

tags! 🫧

@dragonscribble @rayleeya @brisklofitea @saceaseeds

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