#I see the vision and I’m here to support
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lay your life down and pretty
various hsr x gn!reader | wc: ~2k
In which you die (or they've already lost you).
tags/warnings: character death (reader), it's implied in dh's part but explicit and semi-graphic in hanya's, descriptions of mara and the insanity that comes with it, hardcore angst, hurt no comfort, there may be Lore Inaccuracies
notes: this was originally supposed to be four parts. i'm sorry it's only two but it's just been uhhh... hope you enjoy & thanks for the incredible support lately <3
Dan Heng makes the best pancakes.
You’ve expressed this undeniable fact to his face multiple times, louder in their progression just to see the tips of his ears burn that endearing red. These declarations are reserved for breakfast. At this time you also chide him for trying to weasel his way out of eating the most important meal of the day!
And he’d sigh, letting you hound him about food options until he’d crack under the weight of your grin and end up mixing batter at 7:30 in the morning.
(“I tried flipping them in the air once and the pancake slapped me in the face,” you’d regaled, head resting idly on your fist.
Dan Heng stared into the black of the skillet. “...Somehow, I don’t doubt it.”
“And just what is that supposed to mean?” you huffed.
He almost let not-quite laugh slip then, but because of his stuck-uppery, he just managed to look peeved. “I would appreciate it if you passed me the butter.”)
Instead it is around 9:00 in the morning, and Dan Heng is alone.
He’d stayed up late the night before doing some reading, causing him to oversleep and rush the process today. He’s almost burned his hand on the stove eye twice, nearly dropped an egg on the floor, and has just narrowly avoided burning the batch. Dan Heng is not clumsy (not like you were), and he is painfully aware that he is late.
After he plates the food, the oven clock reads 9:19. He gathers everything, including two sets of utensils and one awkward wad of napkins - before setting the table by heart. Your plate goes in front of the chair closest to the window, and his goes in front of the one adjacent to yours.
The rhythm of distributing each item eventually leaves him with empty hands. Everything is ready, but there is still something colossal missing from the scene.
Dan Heng stares hard at your empty seat before taking his own.
The pancakes are blackened around the edges, but it’s nothing a good heaping portion of syrup can’t fix, and the smell that wafts upward is sweet and inviting. The sun’s rays shining in from the outside world paint the kitchen in flecks of light that occasionally catch on his arm when he brings his fork to his mouth.
Resigned, his silverware clatters noisily to the table.
“I’m sorry,” he breathes, “I’m sorry that I was late.”
Predictably, there’s no response. Dan Heng’s throat feels like it’s closing up on him, and the syrup definitely isn’t helping. He dabs his mouth with his napkin for a good long while.
He is sorry. It wasn’t enough that he’d stayed up late the night before, but that he deliberately kept glancing at the clock and counting the hours until daylight arrived - reminding himself that if he drifted off, the next day would come much sooner.
He isn’t the type to procrastinate either. Even when you’re not here anymore, you seem to have a profound effect on his character. Dan Heng pinches the bridge of his nose. The sound of his voice echoing off the walls of the lonely kitchen is unwelcome. “Happy birthday.”
It’s strained, imperfect, and painful; which only serves to remind him of your insistence on celebrating his birthday as well. You had practically prostrated yourself at his feet, begging him to let you fuss over him - even if it made his vision hazy and palms sweaty. He needs to return the favor, even if the mere idea of another important date passing him up without you makes him want to hide.
So here he is.
Here he is, floundering terribly, missing you terribly, loving you terribly. Dan Heng wrenches his hand from its secure position in his lap to drum on the table.
“I got you something,” he says. “I… I didn’t know which color you’d prefer more, so…”
You’d tease him into an early grave if you were able to see the knitted oven mitt he’d picked out over two months ago. It’s an almost hideous shade of teal that he’s sure you’d love, especially since you forced him to bake with you regularly.
(He was shopping with March 7th when he’d seen it and then reflexively dumped it into his basket. His companion only asked him if he was planning on using it as kindling for the fireplace.)
Dan Heng closes his eyes and slides it over to your placement. For a second, he almost fools himself into thinking you might magically appear to brush fingers when you accept the gift with a bright smile. He has no such luck.
Your breakfast is getting colder, and there’s nothing to be done today; his friends, as much as he can say he appreciates them - also meddle quite a bit. His schedule was mysteriously cleared up and he was gently encouraged to go home and take the day off. The feeling of three pairs of eyes drilling holes into his back as he complied was a bit too potent to be coincidental.
So he sits there and pretends he’s eating with you for as long as he can. The stutters in the familiar rhythm that comes with today are things he can smooth out over time, even if it feels like a betrayal to you. You would never see it like that, which is why he can even live in a home without you in it at all.
(The oven mitt rests beside your full plate until the afternoon, because he cannot bring himself to clean up just yet. He doesn’t think he’ll ever be ready to.)
Dan Heng is not a man who can afford to hope, but he’s already been in debt since the moment of his birth. If just one of his prayers is granted, he hopes it’s the one he runs through his mind every night:
In the next life, please let us cross paths again. And if there’s room for it, please let me love you for as long as I can.
He’s never been one for optimism, but it’s all he looks forward to.
Hanya’s hands cradle the expanse of your face.
Her fingers ghost over any healthy glow remaining in your cheeks. You’re slipping, rightfully so, but does it make her a monster if she wants to claw and rifle through the sands of time to search for any universe where you were spared from this cruel fate?
(She thinks it does.)
You can’t get the words out, but there’s a resigned film that glazes over your eyes - one that tells her that she needn’t lie about where you’ll be going. Your mouth forms silent syllables punctuated by wheezes that will surely send her careening under the depths of the unconscious at record speed.
“Han.. ya,” you croak, “Stay.”
“I will,” she promises, because she needs to - over and over, until you remember it always, even when you’re gone. Even when you’re suffering through the last moments of your fledgling life. “I will remain here.”
Her duty as a Judge of the Ten-Lords Commission is to oversee life and death on the Xianzhou. When Hanya drifts aimlessly like a spectre between inky darkness and blinding daylight, it has occasionally struck her that one day she might have to oversee yours.
Presently, your mind is being swallowed by the maw of mara, a madness that she’s all too familiar with; faced with her dull countenance, she must have witnessed thousands succumb to the fate of infernal life.
“D-Don’t cry,” you beseech. There isn’t much time until you’re no longer Hanya’s secret reprieve, but instead a writhing abomination - and she only has herself to blame. Had she not embraced you so tightly, would you be free of this curse? Would you still be smiling and dragging her by the hand through Exalting Sanctum?
“I will not send you there,” she breathes, “You are not deserving of—”
The agonizing cry you let out next is still beautiful. Even now you can mitigate the emptiness that’s dug its claws in her heart so deep that it’s become symbiotic with the organ. However, instead of the empty, Hanya feels its distant relative: the pins and needles. The hollow white noise crackles until she’s pierced with an arsenal of skeletal knives.
She could take it, and she would take it, if it meant that you weren’t about to die and then awaken again as a monster that desecrates the very concept of you.
She releases your now matching tear-stricken cheeks before seizing both of your arms. The thrashing has crept in, meaning that there isn’t much time before you start sprouting leaves and weeds like a statue abandoned by its devotees.
A sharp inhale through clenched teeth. “You have… to. M’gonna hurt—” you convulse in her grasp, “—somebody...”
Of course you’re worrying about others right now. Kindness is a relic of the past that you’ve somehow managed to exhume, restore to its full glory, and gift to Hanya like she deserves to touch others’ lives in the same way you have.
Every shopkeep knows your name, face, voice, and smile. Your warmth is infectious - even before she knew you in person, she knew of you by word of mouth. Xueyi had told her that the reason Huohuo was so resolute in her duties lately was because of “the person who defeated a bunch of reprobate hooligan bullies tormenting her”.
If her big sister held you in high regard, she figured you were one she wouldn’t mind exchanging greetings with if you ever crossed paths. However, the thing about you is that you always give more than you take; you too eventually gave her your smile over tea, your opinion on her writing, and a perspective from the light she usually only smothers upon first contact.
It seems that it was just a matter of time before Hanya extinguished you.
“You are not ready,” she begs pitifully, “You are not!”
She knows it’s never about being ready. Bad things always happen to good people - to sons, daughters, friends, big sisters, and lovers.
Lovers.
The word is foreign on the tip of her tongue. It’s strange to be actualized and even stranger to ascribe that label to your relationship, but Hanya doesn’t know what else to think when the knives stab her over and over to the elegy of I love you, I love you, I love you.
The trek from Fyxestroll Garden to the Alchemy Commission is sizable. The Dragon Lady could see you and do her best, but she’s seen where that’s led; best efforts gone to waste, inconsolable loved ones given false hope because they were too stubborn to let go.
Is that what she is? Too stubborn to let you go, even when she’s brought this karma upon you?
(Yes, something ugly whispers, this is your penance. Now it’s theirs too.)
“I...” you let out a strangled groan, and when your chest jerks upwards, it barely registers that you brush your lips against hers. There’s tears and snot everywhere, and you’re getting stronger - too strong for her to hold. Hanya’s forearms ache with the strain as gingko leaves begin to ravage your humanity and rip you apart.
The transformation process is cruel, but she promised to remain by your side. Twigs protrude from your neck, nestled between thorny brambles that poke and prod. You are not a Cloud Knight, so your screams aren’t muffled by armor - or muted by the numbness she feels when dealing with other cases.
It’s too real, it’s too much, and it’s not enough.
Drowned out by the previous mantra of I love you, the background vocals of I’m so sorry peter off into whispers that are soon lost among the sickening squelch of Xueyi’s blade cutting through you in one clean motion. The tip of the sword rests over Hanya’s heart, stained with your blood.
“...That’s not them anymore,” her sister says. It’s off-kilter, the way her brow is furrowed in a silent apology.
One can only hope.
taglist: @flower-yi, @moineauz, @aphrodict, @nomazee
#—stellaronhvnters.#dan heng x reader#hsr x reader#hanya x reader#hsr dan heng x reader#hsr hanya x reader#honkai star rail x reader#star rail x reader#danheng x reader#dan heng hsr x reader#hanya hsr x reader#hsr dan heng#hsr hanya#honkai star rail#✧ my works
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❝ 𝐁𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐁𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆, 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 ! ❞
꒰ FEATURING ! ꒱. g. satoru, f. toji, g. suguru, s. ryomen
꒰ CONTENT WARNINGS ! ꒱. i warn them next to each character name so that’s all covered ! very little plot, in fact the need of piercings isn’t even necessary but wtv :P oh and the reader’s referred to girly pet names and has a vagina.
serena’s note. i’m in due of new piercings i dunno ʅ（◞‿◟）ʃ ☆
𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔—tongue piercing, blowjob, deepthroating, cum eating
“show it off for me pretty baby—yeahh, just like that,”
you complied to his order, slipping out his dick from your hallowed cheeks, every inch of his shaft coated in your saliva. you gasped as your throat was rid of its fullness, tears streaking down your cheeks and drool pooling at the corner of your mouth.
a string of spit connected from your bottom lip to his rosy tip, blushing an angry red as he leaked salty pre come. your wrist twists as your hands work up and down his dick, the messiness of the situation serving useful as lube.
“c’mon baby—fuck, show me your pretty jewelry, hm?” gojo begs, hand cupping your stained cheek, thumb brushing over your moist skin.
you nod your head, before sticking your tongue out through swollen lips, the silver ball pierced into the muscle now in sight. you lower your head, tongue still lolled out as you grab the base of his cock and slap his tip at it a few times.
you watch gojo unravel at the sight, the coolness of your jewelry sending him to mush. “shittt, fuck yeah baby, need your pretty mouth back on it—suck me off like the good girl you are, hah,” you feel his hand trail from your cheek to the back of your neck, urging you forward back onto his dick.
you opt to tease him, leaning forward and encircling his cock with your tongue, dragging the jewelry all over his sensitive skin, your free hand slowly jerking off inches you weren’t reaching yet.
“mmhm,” you moan at the taste, lifting your gaze to watch the man before you. he’s wincing through gritted teeth, his grip from your nape to your hair in a tight hold, hips twitching up in attempt to get more attention on his throbbing length.
“quit teasin’ me, baby,” gojo groans, hips now raised up to full extent and the clench of your throat restricting around his cock has him moaning pathetically.
tears cloud your vision as his tip reaches the back of your throat, but you work your way up and down his dick, bobbing your head in motions you knew drove him to insanity. you gripped his thighs as support, gagging sounds filling the bedroom mixed in with the melody of gojo’s whines and pleas.
the coolness of your tongue piercing dragging up his veins, in contrast to the warmth of your velvety mouth, plump lips latching at his cock tightly drove him to spiral, his gut coiling and limbs liquifying as he was washed over with pure euphoria.
his hold on your hair tightened and the sting at your scalp had you moaning around his dick, amplifying his pleasure tenfolds. “shit baby—always suckin’ me off so well, fuck, ‘s like you were made to suck dick—my dick—your mouth feels’good, losin’ my mind here—fuckkk!”
your jaw was at its wit’s end, aching as it split open to welcome gojo’s dick with ease. your eyes trailed down as your spit dribbled from his tip to his ballsack, before coming back up to stare at him with an innocent gaze, one that would surely want to fuck your throat on his own accord.
seemed you knew him too well, as he suddenly sits up from the edge of the bed, feet planted on the floor, pushing you back to align you perfectly with his dick. his dick slips out your mouth and you cough, gasping for air from the sudden puncture and removal in such a short period of time.
“need to fuck your throat—see you beggin’ for it, with those slutty fuckin’ eyes,” his cerulean eyes darken with lust, a feral look blown in his pupil and you brace yourself for the worst. “don’t you worry—i’ll give you exactly what you want. say ahh~”
still stuck on gasping for air, your jaw already slackened and there shimmers your pretty jewelry—as he rams his dick back into your throat, reaching as far until your body jerks in a deep gag. he’s got one firm hand griping your hair in a ponytail while the other keeps you in place at your nape.
his hips thrust wildly into your mouth, excessive sounds of shlurp! filling the room as your throat restricts around his length, pool of saliva slipping past your lips and staining your thighs.
“atta girl—fuck baby, ‘m gonna cum down your throat—have you gaggin’ and chokin’ on my nut—y’love this nasty shit dontcha—shit!—y’love it when i use you like the cumdump you are, yeah? mmh,”
mouth too full to answer, you allow the roll of your eyes to the back of your head and your muffled moans to do the talking for you. you’d grown painfully wet the entire seance, loving whenever he’d go feral on you with no restraint.
you hallowed your cheeks as his tip rocked back and forth against your tongue piercing, and judging by the pinch in his brows and the contracting of his abdomen muscles, you knew he would be cumming.
“that’s the fuckin’ spirit pretty girl—you better swallow every last drop—yeah, swallow that shit, hnng, milk me for what i’m worth—shit y/n!”
his final act, pushing your head all the way down—till your nose reaches to snowy white pubes, your loudest gag yet as he empties himself down your throat. he keeps you locked in place and your throat tightens around his length, your fingernails digging into his thigh muscles.
when his dick twitches in your mouth uncontrollably, he pulls you off, watching as you cough violently, nasty strings of fluids connecting from your mouth’s entrance to his dick, just how he loved it—sloppy head.
“fuckkk,” he sighs dreamily, grabbing his own cock and tapping the excess drops against your jewelry, now stained white with his cum. your eyes are teary and doed, and he swears you’ve never looked prettier.
“we gotta do that shit again.”
𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈—clit piercing, belly bulging, creampie, overstimulation
“you went and got this slutty piercing without me? let another man spread your legs and play with yer pussy and felt no sympathy for toji’s feelings?”
said man held his dick tight in his fist, aligning it with your pussy, right above where your freshly pierced clit was, and rubbed his tip all over your bundle of nerves.
you mewled and cried, your orgasm having just hit you from his mouth alone and he overstimulated you, punishing you for having let another man touch you. your back arched off the mattress and you felt your jaw slacken, mouth into an ‘o’ shape as toji abused your worn out clit.
“n-no, toji please—need your dick inside, mmh, need to feel you inside daddy!” you babble aimlessly, hand sneaking in between your thighs to reach at his cock, stroking it up and down, begging to have it reach places inside you knew would have you seeing stars.
“and just why should i give you what you want?” toji teases you, his free hand swiping your hand away. “my feelings are hurt doll, what tells you you deserve to cum on my dick, hm?”
you shake your head, desperation washing over you as you failed to voice out that not only had it been a girl that pierced, but he was fully aware you were going to get this piercing. toji was messing with you to make you beg, and you would be damned to not reach that peak pleasure over a matter of pride.
“‘m sorry daddy—wasn’t thinking, but i won’t do it again, i swear!” you plead, toes curling as the stimulation on your clit jewelry began heating up pleasure in your gut. you felt yourself lose your composure, “please toji—wanna be fucked like your slut! need to be taught a lesson, was very bad—teach me what happens to disobedient sluts—fuuckkk!”
you cut yourself off as one of your legs are thrown over his broad shoulders and the other wraps around his waist. toji bottoms out inside, leaving you no room to breathe or prepare yourself, before lifting his hips up and roughly slamming them into yours.
your body jerks up to his powerful thrusts, your head pushing up into the headboard as pleasure washes over your limp limbs. you feel his dick stretch your cunt deliciously, the drag of his dick in and out your silky folds sending your mind in a frenzy.
“you wanna be fucked like a slut? i’ll fuck you like a goddamn slut—no cummin till i finish first, that oughta teach ya a fuckin’ lesson,” toji grins beastly, dick all in your guts as he pistons his hips wildly. your breast jiggle to each rough thrusts as you grope on them, eyes rolled to the back of your head.
letting his eyes trail down, he fixates on the way the grinding of his dick at your pussy expands your lower stoa h, the shape of his cock visibly showing through your stomach. he feels an animalistic sense filter through him as your jewelry shimmers back at him, almost insultingly.
he sends a glob of spit at your pussy, landing perfectly at your clit before thumbing at it. you whine out his name, the grip on your breast tightening as your toes curl in his peripheral.
“greedy fuckin’ cunt—suckin’ me in, shit, love it when i dick you down like a whore, ain’t that right mama?” you feel his balls slap at your pussy, thrusts relentless as they bruise and bully at your cervix. you feel his tip kissing your womb and you swear you start seeing double.
“love it daddy,” you nod your head, feeling so full you felt him everywhere. your pussy latched onto his dick greedily, tears at your lash line as you hoped your grip would have him nutting quickly—you already felt your orgasm approaching but he was in a mood tonight.
the sound of your skin clapping one against another played as background noise, your wetness splurting as toji dicked you down, occasional teeth biting at your plush skin. too many different stimulations—from your g-spot being attacked relentlessly to your puffy clit being rubbed on simultaneously—had your tongue loll out in white blinding pleasure.
suddenly grabbing ahold of both your legs, toji pushes the back of your thighs towards your chest, to which you grab onto shakily, “keep em’ spread—fuck up and ‘m leaving you hanging dry, got it?”
you nod your head and when he holds onto the headboard, your voice comes out brokenly as you beg for more and more, his stroke game increasing tenfolds. he fucks into you like he’s got something to prove, occasionally grinding at specific angles that have your pierced clit rubbing at his pubic area.
his brows are cinched, matted hair sticking to his forehead, “shit—gonna cum, have my way with my pussy, mark it dirty and white with my kids. nobody will ever come this close to makin’ you feel this good, you hear me?”
truth be told, you hardly heard him, focusing instead of how your right leg shook excessively whenever he angled his hips at that angle that toyed at your spongey walls deliciously.
“best fuckin’ pussy in the world—all jewelled and pretty for daddy, shit, gonna breed it so good, have you leakin’ and swollen, full of me—y’gonna let me fuck you full, yeah?”
he goes unanswered when instead you cream on his dick, back arching as the dam breaks. you broke his rule, you’re both aware, but he cums with you—deep groan erupting from his chest as he flows his semen deep inside your womb, pulling out of your warm cave to stroke himself off atop your pierced clit, painting your pussy white of him.
“shit—what a slutty cunt, damn near snatched my soul.”
𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔—dermal piercing, backshots, marijuana comsumption
“uhn uhn—don’t you stop princess, remember what i told you?”
you did in fact remember, but your arms ached as you griped tightly onto your sheets, back arched perfectly as you pushed your ass back to meet his hips.
suguru landed a firm blow to your ass, before raising his other hand to his lips, inhaling the blunt deeply before exhaling with a relaxed sigh, at the buzz that ran course in his body intertwining with your pussy enveloping his dick from top to bottom.
your ass recoiled and bounced on his pelvic area mesmerizingly, the two jewels that sat pierced in your lower back sending geto in a frenzy he knew he needed sated before he lost his composure.
the base of his dick was coated with your essence, a creamy pearly ring of slick encircling his shaft as you slide back and forth on his girth. you whined and complained, begging him to have pity on you, but he was satisfied with his things were going.
“can’t handle takin’ charge, even for a little bit? that’s mean baby, i wanna relax too,” he dragged his hand all over the smoothness of your ass, admiring your flesh as it bounced back, speaking to him in a language he felt too familiar with.
“suguru—baby please,” you beg him, tilting your head back and giving him doe eyes, never letting up on your chase to your orgasm. as quick as you attempted to set a pace, it could never match up to the way he fucked you.
the butt of his blunt began dying in his hand with how long he stared at you with red eyes. at the end of the day, you were his girl and whatever you wanted from him you got. he shakes the ash off his blunt before setting it in between his lips, freeing his hands so they can hold at your waist.
“my spoiled princess,” suguru sighs, a faint smile on his lips as he finally allows you the pleasure you searched for, hips pushing up to meet halfway to your bounce.
you moaned at how deep he was, from a single thrust, and you feel yourself melt into your mattress. your skin tacky from sweat, cheeks flushed from the sativa weed coursing through your system, you felt yourself float to cloud nine as your pussy got fucked at a sensual and deep pace.
your pussy fit his cock snuggly, swallowing him greedily and entirely, while he blew out your back. your arms stretched forward and gripped your sheets, releasing your feelings into the tightening of your fists.
toes curling in ultimate pleasure, you feel your soul leaving your body as geto lifts a leg up to the bed and angles his hips. with ease, he finds your golden spot and does you the pleasure of attacking that same area, enthralled by the tremors of your body whenever he pulls out almost entirely just to slam himself back in.
“sugu—yes, oh yes baby—so fuckin’ deep!” you moan, slipping your hand between your thighs to reach at his balls, and you cup them to massage the pair. you hear him whimper behind you, and suddenly the grip on your waist tightens.
geto throws his head back, loose hairs from his messy bun framing his hairline gracefully, “fuckin’ hell pretty, y’got the best pussy in the world—so warm and tight, shit, tryna make cum quick, aren’t ya?”
you whimper at his words, lifting up to your elbows to turn around and catch his gaze once more. backshots were a personal favorite for him ever since you’d gotten your dermals, but you both admittedly missed seeing each other’s facial expressions during sex.
geto spots your siren eyed stare, low lidded from the weed finally settling, and he drags another hit of his blunt into his lungs. he inhales deeply, before killing the blunt on his ash tray, and leans forward to plant his lips onto yours, exhaling the smoke when you part your lips.
the push forward shifts your position, and you exhale the cloud of smoke shakily. with a soft hum, geto kisses the crown of your sweaty head, his tone gentle “good girl.”
now bent over your back, his strokes turn into grinding, his dick reaching even deeper inside as it massages into areas you’d never reach on your own. your arms tremble as your head hangs low, tears building in your lash line from the pleasure built up.
the intimacy of the newfound position mixed with geto’s heavy breathing at your ears, praising you and your pussy for taking him in so well, the substance abuse clouding your senses, the knot in your stomach snaps and you flood the sheets, squirting your liquids all over yourself, him and your bed.
“thereeee we go,” geto encourages you, hips never letting up as they drag you through the highs of euphoria. he keeps fucking into you, eyes narrowed in on the way your jaw slackened and your eyes shut close, pussy pulsating around his cock desperately.
“this dick is all yours baby, cream on it and mark it yours—fuck, keep doin’ that shit, wanna be soaked in your juices—hah, yeah that’s it—there we fuckin’ go.”
𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀 𝐑𝐘𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍—nipple piercings, cowgirl riding, degradation, impact play, nipple play
“you’re boring me brat—pick up the pace and quit being lazy cause i ain’t fuckin’ you,”
sukuna rested his head against his hand in an attempt to be perceived as annoyance, all four eyes casted up to your fucked out face. your glossy eyes crossed to the centre of your face as your jaw fell and had your tongue lolled out your mouth.
“is it too much for you?” sukuna mocked, barking a laugh as one of his arms reach for your derrière, roughly slapping the globe, before cupping and jiggling the flesh in his big hand.
you hear words but they hardly register as you bounce up and down his unreasonably big dick. you swear you feel him past your intestines and somewhere near your stomach, your pussy clenching tightly around him as you attempt to fuck yourself for the both of you.
your hands appear small as they hold onto his broad shoulders for stability, your head limp and jerking with each bounce on his lap.
sukuna smirks, two more of his arms coming up to pinch at both of your tits, focusing his attention on the stiff buds that pierced with gold jewelry. he tweaks at the bud, pinches and twists painfully, “i assumed a grown girl able to get her nipples pierced like a filthy whore would also be able to take my dick, but i guess i was wrong.”
you wish you could counter and disagree with his statement, prove him wrong and ride him into a whole new dimension that he’d grip onto the arms of his seat and throw his head back as he emptied loads of his semen inside your tight cunt. unfortunately for you, your thighs ached from over exhaustion as your tits were being fondled aggressively and if his fourth arm continued to thumb at your clit, you’d be cumming yet again on his dick while leaving him high and dry.
“sh—shut the fuck up,” you slur out, eyes narrowing as you try to glare at him, but they shut completely when his hand roughly slaps your cheek, head jerking to the side. shamefully, you let out a moan at the impact, the stinging feeling having your clamp tightly on his cock.
“watch your fuckin’ tone,” sukuna warns you, fingers gripping your jaw as he forces your head down to look at him. your watch him with angry eyes, and it undoubtedly turns him on when you grind your hips back and forth, almost in retaliation.
“or what?” you challenge him back, despite knowing there really wasn’t much in your favour as of now. you enjoyed being bratty because sukuna always handled your attitude correctly.
“or i’ll strap you to this seat and leave your gapin’ pussy untouched, beggin’ to cum while i have you watch me fuck somebody else. you want that?” he growls, eyes boring into yours and you know he’s being serious. you swallow your pride and roll your eyes but nod in understanding, and so he leans back into his seat. “now keep at it—still haven’t came close to cumming, selfish girl.”
in the midst of it all, you ride and hop and bounce on his monstrous cock, feeling your body being split open at the intrusion of his dick penetrating areas you were certain were unhealthy. the pain felt too pleasurable to stop, and so you greedily fucked yourself to chase another orgasm.
leaned back in his throne, he watches you in faux unimpress, lips tugging into a cocky smirk whenever he’d pull at your nipples in a way that had your body jolting. he’d shove his fingers down your throat, have your saliva lube his digits and pull them out to slap and roughly play with your tender tits.
your back arches into his chest, and you feel his tongue peek through his stomach that stretches out to lick at your erogenous zone near your navel. your oversensitive nipples begin to feel numb, and you eagerly grab ahold of the back of sukuna’s head to pull him down closer to your chest.
what could’ve gotten you in deep trouble actually turned out for the better, as sukuna pops one of your nipples in his mouth, wet tongue circling the jewelry and moaning uncharacteristically at the taste. his other arm never ceases to fail to lack attention at your other boob.
“the only impressive thing about you is that rack of yours. all plump and pretty—shit, i hate to admit it but fuckin’ hell—you have no idea how turned on i’m getting from ‘em.”
it’s still fraudkuna 4 life btw.
#stargirl★rena.#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk smut#gojo satoru smut#gojo satoru x reader#gojo x reader#gojo smut#toji fushiguro smut#toji fushigro x reader#toji x reader#toji smut#geto suguru smut#geto suguru x reader#geto x reader#geto smut#sukuna ryomen smut#sukuna ryomen x reader#sukuna x reader#sukuna smut
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Bakugou/Fem Reader/Kirishima
Gym Scenario
NSFW one shot — all characters aged up/18+. Move on or block if that bothers you.
Warnings; dirty talk, pussy eating, blowjobs, fingering, squirting, vaginal sex, Eijirou cums inside reader
I was VERY excited to write this and for some reason it became so fucking hard to write. It took FOREVER — I edited, re-edited and re-edited it some more until it became something I’m semi happy with. Cuz fuck me LOL.
Anywho, hope you all enjoy!
•••••••••
“Don’t be such a pussy. You know you can fucking do it, so do it,” Katsuki demands, jaw clenched. Irritation laces his voice.
Unfortunately, the harsh pep talk doesn’t quite motivate you the way he wants.
You know it’s his way of being encouraging, but his efforts fall flat.
“Fuck off Kat,” you bite, panting heavily. “God! I wish Ei was here,” you hiss crossly, gritting your teeth.
Your sweat covered palms slip over your bare knees as you bend in half, desperately gulping down air, heart rate erratic.
Katsuki clicks his tongue behind his teeth, laughing — which sounds more like he’s mocking you, tapping his foot impatiently.
Clearly he’s not offended.
“Why? So he can baby your ass?” He taunts, lifting his chin up. He crosses his arms over his tank top clad chest.
He sits up straight on the workout bench across from you, one leg stretched out in front of him.
You throw him an icy glare, choosing to ignore his jab.
Standing upright, you use the bottom of your muscle tank to wipe off the metric ton of sweat pouring down your face.
The scent of your shirt is overwhelming and gross. Your nose wrinkles in distaste.
You’ve been at the gym with Katsuki for two hours. Two grueling, lactic acid filled hours.
The gym at Eijirou and Katsuki’s agency is relatively quiet and secluded. With all the equipment you could ever hope for.
Naturally, Katsuki woke up deciding today was the mother of all days to work on one rep maxes.
You’re both off work. Ei is out on patrol — so Katsuki can push, bully you into lifting as much weight as he wants.
Katsuki swears it’s so you can’t run to Eijirou with “big ass doe eyes” and a pout whenever you get tired and want to go home.
So, here you are, stuck with Katsuki. He’s already hit a new PR and you’re working on yours. You’ve failed this weight three times already.
You could put your fist through a wall you’re so pissed off.
Your glutes are on fire. Your hamstrings are on fire. Your lower back is on fucking fire.
Still, your boyfriend is ruthless. You’re reaching a boiling point.
“Kaaaat,” you whine, dragging out the A in his name. “I can’t do this today. Please, I just - I wanna go home. I wanna see Ei.”
Tears of frustration start to sting and well up in your eyes.
You sniff, adjusting the strap of your lifting belt tighter, avoiding Katsuki’s gaze.
An exasperated albeit fond sigh hits your ears. You take to fiddling with the hem of your stretchy biker shorts, irritated in your own lack of ability.
It sits in your chest like a lead balloon.
The bench protests as Katsuki rises from his seat. You adamantly stare at a crack in the black mats that make up the floor, shifting from foot to foot.
You listen to his quiet footsteps approaching until suddenly black lifting shoes fill your vision.
Gently, a thumb and forefinger grip your chin. Katsuki tilts your head until you’re meeting his warm yet intense ruby red stare.
You deflate, becoming putty in his hold.
“Baby,” he begins, rough voice infinitely softer now. “You are going to fucking lift this weight. You’re stronger than you know.” He’s overly confident, as normal.
Your lower lip wobbles, heat creeping up your neck and burrowing into your cheeks.
As infuriating as he can be, he’s no doubt your biggest supporter, fan, etc. Not counting Eijirou.
Katsuki’s unwavering belief in you sends goosebumps crawling up your sweat soaked arms. It ultimately convinces you to try again.
Wrapping your fingers around the wrist helping support your chin, you feel his steady pulse thudding.
“One more time and then we can go home?” You ask reluctantly. His lips curl into a smug grin realizing he’s won you over.
Playfully, Katsuki shakes your head side to side, grip tightening on your chin.
“Yeah whatever,” he relents, rolling his eyes. “Ya know, if you hit this, I’ll give you a reward,” he says nonchalantly, trailing his hand down to snake around your throat with a barely there pressure.
“What kind of reward?” You eye him suspiciously. Although, you’d be remiss to deny the anticipation his words bring.
He leans into your personal space, smirking like the Cheshire cat. It gives you a close up of the golden brown freckles dusted across the bridge of his nose.
The air between you sparks dangerously. Warm like the left over embers of a bonfire.
“How bout, I eat that cunt till you’re squirting all over my face, yeah?” He purrs, squeezing your throat a bit harsher.
You grab his tank top with both hands, inhaling sharply. Katsuki’s tone of voice, his words - your entire body flashes hot within the second.
“Oh?” You squeak out, trying to ground yourself while you’re this close to him.
Katsuki pushes in until his soft lips brush your ear lobe. It tickles pleasantly.
He slips two fingers into the top of your lifting belt, tugging you to his chest.
“Fuck yes. I’ll get you so soft, so goddamn pliant, that Ei will just slip right into your pussy when he gets home,” he whispers, voice low and gravelly.
“Oh god,” you groan, letting your forehead thump onto his collar bone. You fist his shirt until your knuckles are white, a blistering heat gathering in your belly.
Katsuki snickers, placing a kiss to your jaw and pulling back to force your head up, leveling his gaze with yours.
“C’mon baby, you know how much Ei loves that. So, why don’t you be a good girl, hit this lift and let me take your ass home.”
With that he’s gone. Leaving you to soak in the offer, causally making his way back to the bench.
Your hands linger mid air where they held his tank top. Blinking rapidly you watch him — mind blown, shattered, melted.
He sends you a pointed look to say “hurry the hell up”, resting his left hand on the seat to hold his weight.
You breeze through your personal record the very next try.
•••
One steamy, rushed shower later — you’re spread open wide, entirely bare and resting on your back.
The cool sheets on your bed help soothe your sweltering skin.
You’re not alone. Katsuki’s naked too. Comfortably laid out on his belly between your thighs.
He’s lazily pumping two fingers in and out of your drooling pussy. Paying close attention to the lewd way you suck him in.
Yearning, insatiable. Cunt strangling every coherent thought from his head besides the stunning view in front of him.
Katsuki reaches up to take hold of your hand, lacing his fingers with yours. He runs his thumb over your palm, keeping you focused on him.
He casually rests your conjoined hands on the mattress near your hip.
Your low moans pierce the air when Katsuki sinks his canines into the delicate area of your inner thighs.
Katsuki gazes up at you through his long lashes while he marks you with dark reddish purple hickeys over and over.
They ache and sting, pulsating dully. Each new bite causes your pussy to flutter. It steals your breath away — the way he’s taking you apart.
Yet, you’re getting restless, squirming in the blonde’s hold. By now, you’ve already sent a salacious video of you deep throating Katsuki’s cock to Eijirou.
Drool and precum dripping down your chin, cheeks flushed and eyes half lidded for the camera. Katsuki’s husky moans decorating the background.
Anything to seduce Eijirou, to tempt him into getting home quicker. You’re proud to admit it works almost too well.
He instantly replies he’ll be home in 20 minutes.
That was about 15 ish minutes ago. You’ve already been made to cum twice since then.
Katsuki had let his release spill down your throat right after he clicked send on the video. Now he’s currently inching you towards a third orgasm.
You’re aware Katsuki’s going to make you squirt this time. The slight fullness and pressure building in your bladder is a telling indicator.
He’s also trying to his damndest to stretch this out until Eijirou gets home. Craving for the red head to be his captive audience.
You share his desire. Longing for your currently absent boyfriend to just be here already. You desperately want Eijirou to turn you into a pretzel.
Nevertheless, it’s exhilarating how sweetly Katsuki’s treating you for the time being. He’s normally a bit rougher so this tender side of his is turning you to a pile of mush.
Slim fingers curl up into your sweet spot, stroking it lovingly, sending a warm shiver snaking down your spine.
Your back bows off the bed with something similar to a keen falling from your lips.
“Katsuki!” You cry out his name. It sounds as sinful as a curse and as holy as a prayer.
You free hand bunches the silky sheets up in pleasure, skull digging into the mattress below.
“Yeah that’s right. Your pussy feels fucking amazing, doesn’t it princess?” He purrs, tone almost patronizing.
But he can’t hide the underlying simmering heat coloring his voice.
His soft lips plant a kiss over your swollen clit and it gets your blood buzzing.
“So — ah! So f-fucking good Kat,” you babble, eyes falling shut. It’s irresistible, the pull you feel to roll your hips in time with his thrusts.
You’re almost feverish from it all, cheeks so scalding steam may as well rise from them.
You cling to Katsuki’s hand even more while he edges your orgasm to the surface, intermittently kitten licking your puffy clit.
You tilt your head, glancing down at Katsuki with half lidded eyes, slack jawed. He keeps his leisure pace, stretching the rubber band of your climax to its limit.
The blonde’s expression mirrors yours. Dilated pupils, red blossoming brightly over his cheeks and down his throat — lids so heavy they’re almost closing.
His stare is laced with a rabid want that you recognize all too well.
The sight of him occasionally rocking his hips down into the mattress sets your nerve endings alight.
It’s obscene, the way he chases relief for his obviously aching, full cock. You think he’s more than likely smearing precum along the sheets below.
He never fails to become drenched when he’s so badly turned on.
You stare briefly at the ceiling, knowing it’ll be over immediately if you keep leering at him.
You’re already on the cusp of cumming. The slow, sweet buildup of it making your heart pound brutally behind your rib cage.
Katsuki rips a high pitched wounded noise from your throat when he suckles on your clit again. Your free hand shoots out to tangle and twist his soft blonde hair.
A fresh wave of goosebumps light up over your arms, a thrill racing through you as he devours you. Instinctively you cross your ankles over Katsuki’s upper back.
You’re huffing, tits heaving with the rise and fall of your breathing.
You try to warn him, open your mouth to tell him you’re about to cum — but you’re interrupted by your bedroom door swinging open.
Katsuki halts his movement, your orgasm fading into the background as both your heads snap towards the direction of the door.
You don’t have time to be upset about it because finally your other boyfriend is home.
Eijirou stands there in street clothes, broad shoulders filling up most the doorframe.
His red strands hang loosely, framing his face. The ends are dripping, remnants of a quick shower he must have taken at the agency.
Eijirou wolf whistles.
“Well damn! What did I do to deserve walking in on a sweet treat like this?” Eijirou teases, crossing his arms and leaning his shoulder on the doorframe.
“Ei! You’re ho—oh fuck!” You begin to greet him but cry out when Katsuki brushes the pads of his fingers over your sweet spot intentionally, startling you.
You untangle yourself completely from the blonde, leaning up and bracing your weight on your elbows.
You shove at the blonde’s shoulder with your heel, half heartedly scowling at him.
Katsuki snickers, pillowing his cheek on your squishy thigh and slyly looking over to Eijirou. He looks quite seductive, red eyes full of mirth.
Eijirou laughs delightedly at the playful display. The sides of his eyes crinkle when he beams at you both.
“Oi, quit fucking around Ei. Take your damn clothes off and get your ass over here.” You smoothly join Katsuki in egging the other on.
“Yeah Eijirou, been waiting a lifetime for you to come home. Katsuki wants to put on a show for you.”
Katsuki barks out a laugh, wanting to deny it, but he can’t.
“Okay! Okay, I’m hurrying,” Eijirou giggles, cheeks turning a soft peachy pink.
He wastes no time, disrobing quickly. Pulling down the zipper of his hoodie to reveal he’s wearing nothing underneath.
Eijirou ignores the over the top catcalls you both throw his way. Mumbling under his breath, pretending he doesn’t love it.
He sheds the jacket, dropping it carelessly to the floor as he makes his way to the side of the bed. He slips out of his sweats just as shamelessly.
You watch Eijirou’s already half hard cock twitch when you reach out for him. He eagerly accepts it, kneeling on the bed next to your head.
You look up at him adoringly, lips turning up into a smile that makes the apples of your cheeks twinge.
“Hi Ei, we missed you,” you croon, affectionately squeezing his hand.
In response, he bends down to give you a sweet kiss in greeting. It’s brief, but makes you feel like you’re bathed in sunshine either way. He pulls back, a question clearly on his lips.
“Wanna sit in my lap baby? I’ll get the best view of you that way,” Eijirou says, entirely serious. He shuffles until he can sit behind your head, bracing his back on pillows and the headboard.
“You don’t have to ask me twice,” you reply. Scooting yourself backwards until you’re able to slot in between his wide spread thighs, resting your own sticky back along his chest.
As you do so, Katsuki chases you, inching forward. He never lets his fingers leave the searing heat of your pussy.
“Oh fuck,” you laugh breathlessly, taking note of their presence. You tighten around him greedily, desire burning you to ash.
“Oh princess, look at you. Even more fucking needy now that Ei is home,” Katsuki comments meanly, digging his thumb into your puffy clit as he settles in his new spot.
A weak yelp leaves you at how sharp the sensation becomes.
You feel the rumble of Eijirou’s laughter as it vibrates throughout his chest.
“Maybe I just want to cum,” you chide him. “You’ve been edging me forever.”
Katsuki doesn’t respond. Just grins like he’s won the lottery, a bit manic, and sets an borderline violent and relentless pace.
The howl you produce is ear splitting. The sudden dynamic shift begging your spine to bend but Eijirou quickly keeps you caged in.
He wraps his thick biceps around your stomach, hooking his chin into the muscle just behind your collarbone.
“Be good,” Eijirou warns. “You wanted this yeah? Then let Kat do what he wants.”
You scramble to lock onto his forearms, nails dragging angry lines over his skin.
You obediently nod along with what he tells you, starting to get the impression your skin is too tight to fit over your bones.
Your body bounces in time with Katsuki’s motions and the razor sharp points of Eijirou’s teeth threaten to pierce the delicate flesh of your shoulder.
Mercifully, your orgasm comes on like a freight train. In less than a minute to be exact.
Katsuki bullies your sweet spot with a precision only he could possess. Flicking his tongue over your clit in a steady up and down rhythm.
Pleasure pulses white hot in your pelvis, threatening to prickle out all over your waiting body.
“Oh. Oh, I’m gonna cum Kat! Ei, please, shit!” you curse, head spinning, not even sure what you’re begging them for.
“That’s it babygirl, we’ve got you,” Eijirou coos, tone a 180 from a couple minutes prior.
You’re wiggling in his iron clad grip, on the edge of exploding. One more push is all you need.
The stifling heat of Katsuki’s mouth envelops your clit once more, sucking.
Then, your toes curl into the sheets, all the muscles in your lower half tensing as your climax rips you apart.
You hold onto Eijirou’s forearms for dear life, molten lava gushing through your veins like a busted dam.
Katsuki pulls his mouth away with a wet pop, punishing you with each slippery glide of his fingers. You don’t think you can take much more, crossing into over sensitive territory.
Yet, it doesn’t matter, the looming pressure on your bladder gives without your permission.
“You’re so hot like this baby. Now fucking squirt for me,” Katsuki snarls. Eijirou’s cock kicks where it’s trapped against your lower back.
It’s too easy to bend to his will.
You’re soaking the blondes chin and wrist before you know what’s happening, liquid running down to your ass.
His head jerks back, briefly startled, before his eyes get wide.
Katsuki slows, lolling his tongue out to lick his drenched lips for a taste. He moans, flush traveling down to his chest.
“No more,” you complain, hips stuttering as you push at his forehead.
You try to catch your breath, coming down from the high — becoming boneless on Eijirou’s chest.
“Good job sweet girl, you did so well my love,” Eijirou murmurs in your ear. His breath tickles your cheek and you lean into him. The red head smoothes his palm over your belly.
Katsuki slips his fingers free, biting the inside of his cheek when your pussy desperately tries to keep him from leaving you empty.
He rises up, settling back on his calves. He admires how drenched his hand has become.
He arches one pretty blonde eyebrow, smirking at his boyfriend.
“Want a taste of her Ei?” Katsuki asks teasingly, wiggling his fingers at the red head.
Eijirou hums his agreement.
Katsuki surges forward, leaning over you, dangling his dripping hand in front of Eijirou.
Katsuki’s cock, hot and heavy, brushes your lower belly. God, you just want to drag him down by his slim hips, flip him over and ride him until he sees stars.
But you don’t. The deep seated desire for Eijirou to fold you in half wins out.
You tilt your head up just in time to witness Eijirou’s pink tongue dart out for a taste.
He trails his tongue up Katsuki’s fingers, dipping into the grooves between.
You shudder, simultaneously moaning with the blonde.
“Ei,” you interject brokenly. “I need you to fuck me, now please.” Eijirou’s boner jumps against your lower back.
“I can totally do that,” Eijirou responds quickly, playfully pushing at your back. You laugh, looking up at Katsuki expectantly.
He’s still hovering over you.
“Yeah whatever I just wanna watch Eijirou fuck you silly.” He winks at you. You swallow and it’s like your throat’s lined with cotton balls.
Katsuki retreats, loosely circling his fingers at the base of his cock and squeezing.
“C’mon Ei, I’ve been waiting for you all day,” you giggle, sliding down until you’re flat on your back again.
You plant your feet on the bed, allowing your legs to fall open as wide as they’ll go.
“I won’t make you wait any longer baby,” Eijirou assures. He crawls down as Katsuki moves upwards, effortlessly switching places.
Katsuki’s knees bracket your head as he maneuvers until he’s comfortable. If you glance backwards you’ll be met with the view of the blonde’s cock and his partially obscured face.
“Ready pretty girl?” Eijirou asks, pawing at the squishy spots of your thighs, inching close enough until he can part the lips of your pussy with his shaft. Pink head bumping into your clit.
You nod, biting into your lower lip.
Eijirou uses his thumb to angle his cock down where your warmth waits to greet him. To suck him in like a vice. To clamp down around him until his brain is fuzzy.
He barely dips the head of his cock in once, twice — before finally applying enough pressure his tip fully pops in.
The initial stretch makes you shiver. As he fills you with the rest of his cock, you start to tremble.
Your pussy doesn’t offer even a hint of resistance.
You wheeze out his name, when he bottoms out. Eijirou’s blunt nails leave indentations on the backs of your thighs as he pushes them a bit towards your chest.
His grip is bruising, licking his lips as he concentrates on being still so you can adjust.
You look down to where you’re connected, fists clenched in the sheets by your sides. Your pelvis throbs briefly from just how big his cock is.
Eijirou grabs your attention with a strangled sound. Your gaze flickers back to him and his expression is pleading, impatient.
You snort, giving him the go ahead.
He runs with it, proceeding to carve out a space inside you for himself. His eyes flutter shut as your pussy pulses, choking his cock.
His lips part slightly, eyes glued to where you’re swallowing him just right.
He rolls his hips, pulling back and thrusting in with a singular fluid motion. Slowly working up to a rougher, faster pace.
Katsuki’s curses from somewhere behind you. Voice low and ragged as he tells you just how fucking pretty you look taking Ei’s cock.
You echo the sentiment, praising the red head as he shifts around on his knees and thrusts harder.
Eijirou whimpers, taking your ankles, lifting until your knees hook over his shoulders. He bends you in half, placing his hands by your head.
A moan is punched out of your chest and you cling to his shoulders. It feels like his cock is in your belly.
“Eijirou, holy shit! Please — don’t stop!” you beg, voice edging on a sob. Katsuki hisses in pleasure behind you. The slick, wet sound of him jerking his cock burned into your ears.
“Anything baby, whatever you want,” Eijirou says with a breathy sigh, fucking you hard enough to bounce your body with each thrust. The smack of his skin against yours spurs him on even further.
Your pussy chases his cock every time he pulls back, not letting him go for a second. He fucks you until you feel high, and when you get impossibly tighter — he knows you’re cumming.
Eijirou talks you through it, because of course he does.
He makes sure to drag out your orgasm as long as he can.
A drop of sweat falls from the tip of his nose into the valley between your tits, admiring the way your body releases all its tension as you come down from the high.
“Good girl, you cum so beautifully for me,” Eijirou praises. “I’m gonna cum inside you okay?” He’s panting as he moves, clearly hanging on by a thread.
“Cum for me Ei,” you murmur, trailing your hands up and wrapping your fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck.
Eijirou whines as you pull him down into a hungry kiss, attempting to eat him alive.
He whimpers into your mouth, shoving his cock to the hilt in your pussy. A new warmth blooms inside you as your boyfriend cums.
Eijirou wrenches his mouth from yours to gasp, jaw falling open as he rides out the last few pulses of his orgasm.
A high pitched whine slices through the gooey atmosphere and you look backwards just in time to watch Katsuki’s gorgeous face as he cums.
Eyes pinched shut, the muscles of his neck straining as he tosses his head back on the headboard with a thump.
He traps the tip of his tongue between his teeth, partially muffling the next moan he can’t control.
Eijirou hisses when your pussy involuntarily flutters around him as you watch the blonde squirm with pleasure.
Katsuki’s shoulders drop as he relaxes, chest heaving. His stomach is covered in cum. As is his chest — there’s even some on his cheek.
Reluctantly, your attention snaps back to Eijirou when he gingerly pulls his softening cock free. Taking a moment to track the way his release sluggishly flows from you.
“Enjoying the view?” You ask coyly. Eijirou glances at you in surprise, rubbing the back of his neck with a nervous laugh.
“I always do.” He’s giggling now.
“Fucking sap,” Katsuki snorts.
“Hey!” Eijirou protests. You laugh, reaching backwards to slap Katsuki’s ankle.
“Don’t listen to him Ei, he’s just as bad.”
Playful banter consumes the three of you as you enjoy the relaxing and affectionate atmosphere.
Eventually, you manage to clean yourselves up.
You and Eijirou easily convince Katsuki to cook and fill your bellies with food.
As you wait, you sit at island in your kitchen.
Happily retelling Eijirou how you got a new PR today at the gym.
Not leaving out the way Katsuki used dirty tricks and promises of sex to persuade you, which makes Eijirou laugh out loud.
Katsuki just raises his middle finger over his shoulder in return, taking all the credit for your lift either way.
#bakugou smut#bakugou x reader#kirishima x reader#mha x reader#kirishima smut#mha smut#bakugou katsuki x reader#kirishima eijirou x reader#bakugou x reader x kirishima#kirishima eijirou smut#bakugou katsuki smut#bakugou x kirishima
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My Pretty Girl - T.N.
Foreign Touches and Breakfast in Bed
Pairing: Ravenclaw and sort of ditzy but talented Reader x Slytherin notorious playboy Theodore Nott
Warnings: Asshole Theo?
Summary: You wish you never woke up.
Author's Note: Hey guys! It's been a while, sorry for the wait but here it is!
< 6
__________________
“How much did you even drink last night?” Cho cringed holding your hair back as another round of vomit spewed out of you and into the toilet. You could feel your head pounding as you sat on the bathroom floor trying to calm yourself down. Waking up to a hangover and your period may be the worst combination known to man, or really women. Thankfully there were no classes today.
“Too much,” you breathed in and out, making sure there was nothing else coming up.
“Come on, we need to go to breakfast, you need to eat something.” Cho tried helping you up as you gripped onto the sink for support.
You were not ready to go out in public like this. Bed hair, snippets of last night makeup look in the form of smothered mascara on your cheek, and a million knives stabbing your uterus. Definitely not a pretty sight. Plus, you did not want to see any of the boys after last night incase of something embarrassing you might’ve done while out of it.
“I don’t wanna go,” you groaned as you flopped on your bed and curled up into a fetal position.
“You have to eat something Y/n,” Cho spoke softly as she ran her fingers through your hair, trying to flatten it.
“I’ll eat later.” You grumbled closing your eyes, menstruation already tiring you out.
“I’ll be back,” Cho said as she left the room, but you were too tired to say anything as you slipped away to dreamland.
___________________
A foreign touch on his chest causes Theo to stir awake in confusion.
What the hell.
He blinked a few times, allowing his vision to clear up.
Seeing the fake blonde from last night he groaned.
“Why are you still here?” He mumbled, swatting her hand away from him as he scooted further away from her.
“What do you mean baby? We don’t have classes today silly,” Hannah replied as she sat up, still nude from late night activities.
“Right, so the last thing I want on a free day is to see your face. Get out.” Theo mumbled hoping she’d leave so he could sleep so more.
“Theo baby, don’t be so mean,” she spoke, reaching out for him again causing Theo to sit up in a huff.
“You know the deal, you were supposed to be out before I even woke up,” he ignored the nasty feeling of her calling him cringey pet names.
“Theo we don’t have to be like this.”
“My name is Theodore,” he stated as he got up and got dressed.
He sighed as he picked up her clothing items off the floor and threw them at her.
“I’m leaving since you won’t. But I advise you to wake up before Malfoy does, you know he doesn’t like you.” Theo said as he walked out, ignoring the gasps of surprise when her bra landed in her face.
What an annoying girl.
He walked to the Great Hall, deciding that he might as well grab breakfast since he was awake.
“Did you fuckers seriously eat all the sausages?” Theo scoffed as he took a seat in front of Mattheo.
“What the fuck did you want me to eat? Those nasty ass muffins?” Blaise replied as he passed a goblet of orange juice to him.
“HEY! They’re not nasty,” Lorenzo spoke up with crumbs falling out of his mouth.
“Buddy you’re getting it all over me,” Mattheo shoved the boy next to him with a scoff before glancing over at Theo.
“Fun night huh?” Mattheo raised a glass towards the bruise-like mark on Theo’s neck.
“Fuck are you serious?” Theo groaned as he rubbed the side of his neck.
“I knew I’d regret it, she’s been so possessive lately,” Theo rolled his eyes as he continued eating breakfast.
“Well I mean you’re always going back to her, maybe she thinks something will happen between the two of you,” Mattheo responded while Theo laughed in response.
“She’s a Hufflepuff, you know only Slytherin girls are worth dating.”
Mattheo frowned as Lorenzo looked up from his breakfast.
The whole table fell silent as Lorenzo finished chewing his muffin, “Y/n’s a Ravenclaw. I don’t think she lacks anything compared to Slytherin girls.”
“Yeah in fact I think she looked better than any Slytherin girl last night,” Mattheo mumbled, causing Theo to look up in surprise.
“She was there?” He gaped, suddenly feeling like he was going to throw up.
Lorenzo rolled his eyes knowing that Theo had no right to even care if she was there or not. Mattheo and him had begun to care for the girl as if she was their baby sister and at first they were rooting for Theo, but now they weren’t so sure anymore. They had thought that she could be the one to make Theo better. After all it was him who had shown interest first, it was him who had begun to change because of her. She was the first girl Theo had ever described without using compliments that didn’t mean anything. Never spoke about how hot her body was instead ranted to the two boys about how angelic her face looked while she studied and how she smelled like flowers and vanilla. Not only cared about what was on the outside but on the inside as well, bragging to the boys about how talented she was and how cool her nail designs were. That is the same boy who had his eyes set on someone else last night, and the thought of it even made Lorenzo want to either cry or punch him.
“Yeah but don’t worry, she didn’t need your company,” Lorenzo scoffed as he continued to eat his breakfast again.
Lorenzo isn’t the type of person to show any resentment or hold any grudges, so Theo definitely knew he might’ve messed up.
But before Theo could say anything, a familiar face approached up behind Mattheo and Lorenzo.
Following Theo’s gaze the two boys turned around and greeted the girl.
“Chang! What’s up?” Lorenzo greeted happily, a complete 180 switch in tone.
“Hey boys, I’m grabbing breakfast for Y/n since she doesn’t feel well and I thought seeing your faces would cheer her up,” Cho explained as she showed them her plate of chocolate chip muffins.
Theo furrowed his eyebrows, “Is she okay? Is she sick?”
Cho rolled her eyes at the boy who caused her best friend to come back to the dorms sobbing her eyes out. She didn’t even know Theo that well but as she watched Y/n clutch her heart as she cried in her arms, she felt as if the boy had broken her heart as well.
“She's fine as if it’s any of your concern,” Cho brushed Theo’s questions away as she avoided any eye contact with him.
Lorenzo and Mattheo didn’t bother coming to his defense but instead got up and grabbed some juice and fruit before following Cho.
Theo looked down at his plate and suddenly didn’t feel very hungry anymore. Blaise sighed before patting his mate’s back in comfort while Theo pushed his food around.
Maybe he deserved that.
#theodore nott x you#theo nott x reader#theodore nott imagine#draco malfoy x reader#hogwarts oc#hogwarts au#harry potter#slytherin#ravenclaw#slytherin boys#draco malfoy#blaise zabini#theodore nott#mattheo riddle#lorenzo berkshire#hp fandom#hp fanfic
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ateez as pirates who fall for you (maknae line)
read hyung line here
genre: pirate!ateez x gn!reader (fem!reader for jongho), fluff, angst, continuation of the pirate trope brainrot (but i must say i went all out for the plots this time)
length: 14.4k
c/w: heavy and mature themes - mdni, explicit language (swearing), death, violence, blood & injuries, weapons, illegal acts (piracy, attempted murder), alcohol, near-drowning, angst bc i mean angst, specific c/w for mingi’s au: hurt/comfort, allusions to depression
a/n: i’m very sad i never got to use this joke somewhere so - why are pirates called pirates? because they just arrrr 🙈🙉🙊 also to those who like connecting dots and whatnot there are a few easter eggs related to hyung line 🥚 big thanks to yumi @sorryimananti-romantic for getting me through the last three months of trying to work and write bc it’s been a ship time ha ha 😬👍
taglist: at the end
san
pov: you run away with san and the cromer
through your waning breath, you reach a trembling hand up to cup san’s jaw
“s-san, don’t do it”
he lets out a racking sob as he shakes his head, expression marred with agony and torment that you can physically feel in his white-knuckled grasp that covers your own hand
the tears that drip off his jaw become lost to the ground, which is damp from moisture and your blood
you swallow the metallic taste in your mouth, “the cromer isn’t meant for changing fate.” it hurts to take a breath and you wince as you stutter. “it never goes th- the way you want it to…you know that by now”
san’s voice is broken and pained, “i don’t fucking care. it’s not going to stop me from trying”
he grips your hand even tighter when he starts to feel it fall away from his cheek
it’s becoming tiring to keep your eyes open
maybe you can rest…just for a little bit
san will forgive you, right?
you close your eyes
just for a little while
just until the pain stops
faintly, you think you can feel your body being jostled against something warm
but it’s far away
far away
far
san clutches your limp body as he lets out a primal wail of anguish
you cannot die
you will not die
he snatches the glowing hourglass and flips it with desperation screaming in every cell of his body
and then his world goes white.
you don’t notice when the footsteps behind you suddenly fall silent
you’re too busy reasoning with the captain, whose back you are facing as he walks ahead and leads your crew further into the dim tunnels of the cave
“it’s much safer if we go over the mountain. we’ll have the advantage of higher ground to ambush the horizon”
your captain, taesung, doesn’t look at you when he answers over his shoulder, “it’s much quicker through the tunnels. we don’t have the luxury of time if we want to attack their crew before they leave the island”
“and what if they attack - the horizon can easily ambush us as long as they’ve got the cave’s exit guarded”
you immediately turn around to look at san, knowing that he’ll support your argument
only to find that he’s not there
he’s several metres behind the back of the group and frozen to the spot
even in the shadowed darkness of the musty cave, you can clearly see the ashen and shaken features of his face
approaching him slowly, your fire torch held out in front of you, you gently call, “san?”
at the sound of your voice, his eyes lock onto yours
he looks terrified
san is lost in a distorted warp of visions
he can’t make sense of nor connect what he’s seeing
but there is blood
there’s so much blood
it’s everywhere
you’re there
it’s your blood
there’s someone screaming; raw with despair
he’s screaming
the ground digs into his knees and he feels wet and sticky from your blood but also his tears and there are so many tears and the walls are cold from moisture and it’s so dark and musty even with the smell of iron in the air and god you’re dying
you’re going to die
“san?” you repeat, now in front of him and tenderly cupping his jaw
and san has to stop you from dying
his pupils focus on you once again before he desperately tries to gain his bearings
he looks around with increasing franticness
he’s in a cave and the only light he can see comes from the torch you’re holding and the others shared amongst the crew
water drips from the ceiling and along the rugged walls towards the damp ground, filling the cave with a stale and mouldy smell
all his senses scream the same thing to him
it’s just like when you died
his own voice sounds foreign to him when he manages to choke out, “let’s listen to captain”
your eyebrows pinch together at san’s sudden compliance, especially more so when he lowers the volume of his next words so that you’re the only one who can hear his soft don’t argue with him
there’s something about the way he silently pleads with his eyes that makes you nod numbly
you slip the hand that isn’t holding the torch into his and prompt him to walk again with a light tug forward towards the rest of the crew, who are not too far ahead
when the both of you have nearly caught up, san readjusts his hand in your grasp so that his is atop of yours
and so you two walk, san leading you with a sturdy hand; a line of defence between you and the rest of the crew…and the depths of the cave
the thin sheet of cotton that you lay upon does little to soften the discomfort of the cave’s floor as you and the crew prepare for a few hours of sleep, but your pillow makes up for it
your head is cushioned by san’s thigh, who’s seated upright against the wall after offering to keep watch
he’s gazing down at you with a tender smile as he slowly runs his fingers through your hair like a soothing lullaby
your eyes scan his, still trying to catch any changes in his expression that could possibly explain his strange demeanour from earlier
you want to ask him what’s wrong but there’s only so much privacy you can get in a cave with the rest of your crew
instead, you give his hand a squeeze
san’s smile fades a little and you wonder whether it’s the illusion of the light and shadows from the torches that makes his face look so gaunt
his eyes flicker around guiltily and then he looks at you whilst reciprocating your squeeze
he’s mouthing something, you realise
do you trust me?
you tighten your fingers around his in reassurance
with my life
the dimpled caverns return to san’s cheeks, and then he’s whispering to you softly, “sleep”
you don’t recall dozing off, but you must not have been asleep for very long before you’re woken by a light shake to your shoulder
the groggy mumble that starts to leave your lips is hushed by a warm kiss on your forehead
you’re met with the sight of san holding a finger against his lips when you open your eyes and your brain struggles to comprehend what’s happening
there’s a faint glow coming from under his bulging shirt, which could only be one thing
the cromer
as your neurons start firing again, you come to the realisation that apart from you and san, nobody else is awake yet
quietly, he helps you up to your feet
the silent question he asked before you fell asleep replays in your head, and although it does nothing to clear up your confusion, it helps to ease your anxiety because you meant it when you mouthed your response
you trust san with your life
so you turn away from your crew members and start walking, each step deliberate and careful, your hand clutched safely within san’s while he retraces your steps from today
and when san deems you two far enough and out of immediate danger of being caught, he pulls the cromer out of his shirt to use as a makeshift torch
you both make a run for it
when you emerge out of the cave’s entrance hours later, thighs burning from the strain, you almost stumble to your hands and knees from the blinding brightness of the afternoon sun
san tightens his hold on you and urges, “this way, love”
together, you climb the outcrop on the left and disappear further into the mountains because you can’t afford to rest near the cave
few words are exchanged as san nimbly navigates the rickety ledges and overgrown roots, muscles flexing as he pushes forward and helps you with an extended hand
you realise soon after that whilst he leads you two away from the cave, he travels parallel to the edges of the mountain trees - a guideline that keeps the long port of the island just within sight
“san,” you finally break the silence to point towards an overhang you spot, “we should take a break”
he’s sweating from exertion and lack of sleep, so he nods with a grateful smile and leads you towards it
the rock provides a decent amount of shade and conceals you two well enough with the surrounding greenery
only when he sits with a sigh does he finally let go of your hand after hours of holding on
you know that he’s one for constant physical affection, but this…this feels different
it’s like he’s afraid that you will slip away the moment he lets go of you
you turn to look at him
“san, what exactly is going on?”
he’s quiet
he doesn’t know how to tell you - is there even a way to package his next words prettily?
letting out a stuttering breath, san puts it blankly on the table, “i saw you die in my arms”
you’re stunned into silence and your throat feels even drier than before
“was it…” you dare to ask, “was it going to happen in the cave?”
he nods, “i just suddenly saw it and it felt so real. it- it was dark and wet and the smell - the smell was just awful and-”
“hey, hey, san. it’s okay, we’re not in the cave anymore,” you soothe, pressing your forehead to his
you feel him relax under your touch before he tilts his head to kiss your lips
“yeah,” he sighs against you, “you’re right”
when you pull away, the faint glow under his shirt catches your eyes
“why did you bring the cromer?”
if it had only been you and san missing from the crew, taesung might not have bothered going after the two of you
but with the missing cromer too, the captain will spend the rest of his life tracking it down - tracking you two down - if that’s what it will take
taesung isn’t stupid enough to just let go of the cromer and the inexplicable power it holds to travel between dimensions
san shimmies the hourglass out of his shirt and holds it carefully in his hands, “i need a fail-proof safety net, just in case something goes wrong and…i still don’t end up saving you”
“a safety net?” an uneasy feeling settles in your stomach, “san? what are you not telling me?”
he runs his fingers along the metal casing over and over again as he avoids looking at you
“i…i’ve used it before,” san finally admits, “i used the cromer to bring you back to life”
without thinking, you blurt, “it’s only meant for travelling between dimensions. nobody knows what the repercussions are if you try to mess with fate!”
“well, i did it.” he snaps, “you’re here, alive, and i would do it again and again to save you”
at his words, you soften
because san didn’t just see you die
he lived through seeing you die
you can’t even begin to imagine if you had been the one to experience san die in your arms
“i’m sorry,” you apologise. “thank you for saving me, and for loving me”
san’s eyes are red when he looks at you, “i’m sorry, too, for snapping at you. i know this is a lot for you to process”
you shake your head with your own watery smile
“i’m alive, and i promise i’ll stay alive”
“and i promise i’ll keep you alive,” he nudges your cheek with a playful peck
you laugh, because san makes you happy even in the most uncertain of times, and you ask, “what’s the plan now?”
“find a ship that’s willing to get us the hell out of here”
he makes a move to stand and you place your hand on the ground to push yourself up to your feet too
except your hand shifts with your weight and you end up cutting your palm open on the sharp edge of the rocks
hissing, you draw your hand back towards your chest
“shit, let me have a look,” san drops to his knees and takes your hand in his
he gently blows away the soil and rubble around your wound as you wince
it’s nothing too serious, but it’s deep enough that blood immediately begins to pool in the broken skin and seep further out onto your palm
the glow of the cromer pulses
“san,” you start when you see the cogs moving in his head
he removes one hand to pull the cromer out and presents it to the both of you
“i’m not losing you to infection from a cut, not after everything that we’ve done so far to get to here,” he quips
there’s only time to let out an exasperated sigh before he’s taking your good hand to turn the cromer together
your world goes white
the next moment when you open your eyes after blinking, you’re still there resting under the overhang in the mountain forest
san’s sitting next to you, the only sign of the cromer a faint glow under his shirt
and your hand…
there’s no cut
your head whips towards san and his eyes widen when he sees the unbroken skin of your palm
san makes a move to stand, but this time, he gathers your hands and pulls you up with him
“it worked,” you breathe out once you’re on your feet
“it worked!” san repeats, engulfing you into a crushing hug
the amount of relief he feels is uncontainable, because the cut is reassurance that he can change fate with the cromer
in high spirits, san tucks it back into the safety of his shirt after wrapping it in a length of sash and then he secures it snugly under his belt
you two need to look the part of inconspicuous travellers, and a glowing hourglass would most definitely draw unwanted attention
you and san cut through the back streets and alleyways of the small village that separates the mountain and the coast, keeping an eye out for not only your crew members - or ex-crew, you suppose - but also the members of the horizon
“remember,” san whispers into your ear as you both approach port, “if anyone asks, i’m your husband and we’re travelling merchants”
you’re too nervous to answer but you nod anyway, letting san take the lead once again
with the confidence of somebody most definitely not lying, san strides up to a sailor who is yelling at his men to load the crates faster and spins a story right out of his ass
somehow, san manages to concoct a convincing recount of how your goods were stolen by thieves, leaving you both without any means of making money, so now you are left with no choice but to go back to your hometown which happens to be on the way to the ship’s destination, which you know because you overheard the sailors talking earlier
when the sailor glances in your direction, you try to nurse your expression into one of simultaneous distress and gratitude in hopes of selling the story even further
he simply stares at the both of you and you think that he’s going to turn down your request, but then the sailor gives a sweet smile and extends his hand out in greeting, “daeho. welcome aboard”
that’s how you and san find yourselves in the ship’s hold, legs crossed side by side on the wooden floor and surrounded by a multitude of crates and barrels
neither of you realise that you’re holding your breaths and it’s not due to the stale air in the poorly ventilated hold
only when the shout of “anchors aweigh” is heard and the ship slowly starts to pull away from the dock do you finally relax, the feeling of hope slowly seeping into your bodies
because all that’s left now is to wait for the ship to dock at the next port and then you and san can disappear and start a new life
at the notion of safety, your stomach finally calls for attention with a grumble
san teases, “sounds like someone needs a bit of food,” just as his stomach answers with a growl of its own
you break out into laughter and pull him up with you to snoop inside the crates for something edible
lifting the lid to one of the crates, you peer inside to find what looks like a layer of burlap
you reach down with a hand to remove the covering and dig deeper, only to jerk your arm back when you feel the burning pain of a cut
“oh fuck, what?” you hiss as you look into the crate again, “why the hell are there so many knives?”
san is beside you within a split second, already turning you around to cradle your hand in his
the cut extends across your palm and there’s something sickening yet eerily familiar about the way the blood rapidly starts to pool and seep past the broken skin
goosebumps spread across your body when it hits you
“san,” you look up at him with a trembling voice, hardly audible over the pounding of your heart, “it’s the same cut”
his eyes bore into yours with reflected horror when your words sink in
because if it really is the same cut, then that means-
san’s attention suddenly shifts to behind you and that’s the last thing you register before your head explodes with blinding pain
your world turns black.
there’s a ceaseless hammering in your skull when you regain some semblance of awareness and it takes all of your willpower not to let the throb drag you back into unconsciousness
you open your eyes with a groan, trying to clear your vision, only to find san still out cold on the floor beside you
you scrabble closer towards him and brush his fringe out of his eyes
“san,” you shake him a little, “san, wake up”
his mouth tightens into a grimace as he’s slowly brought back to consciousness at the sound of your voice
“fuck…they hit hard,” he props himself up with another curse before he asks you in a panic, “are you hurt?”
you start to shake your head but then think better of it, “my head hurts like a bitch, but i’m okay”
san pulls you into his chest and wraps his arms around you
you let yourself sink into the safety of his embrace, pretending that everything is okay even if just for a moment
“i’m sorry, i’m so sorry,” san repeats the apology into the crown of your head
you can’t do anything but return hushed whispers of comfort and hug him tighter
a sudden clang draws you out of his arms as you both turn in the direction of the sound
that’s when you realise you’re no longer in the hold
you’re in a cell
the brig of the ship is much darker and the air is suffocatingly musty from the lack of ventilation and the perpetually damp floors and walls
damp from what exactly, you really don’t want to know
you hear the heavy thud of boots amplifying as the person approaches your cell, your eyes straining to make out their face in the dark
they squat in front of your bars
the sweet smile on daeho’s face makes him look crazed now and you shrink back to put some distance between you two
“did you have a good rest?” he asks, sounding genuinely curious
at san’s seething growl of anger, daeho raises his hands up in faux surrender and states, “i just want the cromer”
“i don’t know what you’re talking about,” san glowers
the other man wriggles his fingers at san’s waist, “you’re not very good at hiding it in your shirt”
almost as if it knows it is being talked about, the cromer flashes from under the layers of cloth
“why didn’t you just take it from us earlier,” you bite out
daeho clicks his tongue with a disappointed smile, “but then where’s the fun in that?”
he stretches a hand out and waits with his palm upturned just outside of the cell bars
“now give it to me,” he demands
san stares in retaliation, not once looking away as he slowly reaches for the cromer
he takes it out of his shirt and unwraps the sash from around it, then starts to extend the hourglass out towards daeho’s hand
as you watch with bated breath, you notice the subtle tightening of san’s grip around the metal casing and you realise he intends to flip it
except you’re not the only one who comes to the same conclusion
you see the exact moment the facade drops from daeho’s face and is replaced by his true derangement
the hand by the pistol at his side starts to move
but so do you
this time, everything turns red as the scorching heat of pain paralyses your entire body
the cromer falls to the floor at the same time as you do
from outside the cell, daeho laughs viciously, but it’s drowned out by the agonising cry that comes out of san’s chest
san desperately gathers you in his arms, hands pressing against the bullet hole to stem the blood flow
but there is so much blood
it’s everywhere
the ground digs into his knees and he’s wet and sticky from your blood but also from his own tears and there are so many tears and even with the pungent smell of iron in the air he can still smell the mustiness of the cell and he can’t get enough oxygen into his lungs because god you’re dying
and he’s suddenly struck with the heart-wrenching thought
did he unwittingly condemn you to your own fate?
or is it like the cut on your palm - is he unable to change fate no matter what decisions he makes differently?
the sob that wrenches itself out of san hurts you more than anything
“i love you,” you say, because your words are numbered and you want them all to be san’s
he shakes his head furiously, “shut up, you’re going to be fine”
your words come out effortfully, “please, i want to hear you say it one last time”
“fuck,” san buries his face in your shoulder, “i love you so, so much. i can’t live without you”
he pulls back heartbroken, “i can still change this”
through your waning breath, you reach a trembling hand up to cup san’s jaw
“s-san, don’t do it”
he lets out a racking sob as he shakes his head again, expression marred with agony and torment that you can physically feel in his white-knuckled grasp that covers your own hand
the tears that drip off his jaw become lost to the damp ground
you swallow the metallic taste in your mouth, “the cromer isn’t meant for changing fate.” it hurts to take a breath and you wince as you stutter. “it never goes th- the way you want it to…you know that by now”
san’s voice is broken and pained, “i don’t fucking care. it’s not going to stop me from trying”
he grips your hand even tighter when he starts to feel it fall away from his cheek
it’s becoming tiring to keep your eyes open
maybe you can rest…just for a little bit
san will forgive you, right?
you close your eyes
just for a little while
just until the pain stops
faintly, you think you can feel your body being jostled against something warm
but it’s far away
far away
far
san clutches your limp body as he lets out a primal wail of anguish
you cannot die
you will not die
he snatches the glowing hourglass and flips it with desperation screaming in every cell of his body
and then his world goes white.
mingi
pov: you're the crew's surgeon
you have all the time in the world to yourself
the recent raid was successful - the other vessel had surrendered quickly without putting up a fight and your ship is now well stocked up from the loot of supplies
hongjoong has promised the crew shore leave, a vacation of sorts, and so you and the crew are travelling to port malthov, a haven island for pirates
it’ll take about a week to arrive
and without a foreseeable raid or run-in with enemy vessels, there is no need for your medical duties
which is a good thing, really
but it also means that you have a lot of time
and time is your worst enemy
time is time alone with your own thoughts, time alone with your internal demons, and right now, your mind is a sinkhole of them and you are the very thing being pulled into its depths
you’re sprawled out on the upper deck, arms and legs splayed like a physical manifestation of your efforts to reach the edges of the sinkhole and hold on
you think to yourself that it’s reassuring when you can see blood
because it’s visible, physical, and you can fix it
step one, rinse the area with clean water
step two, disinfect the wound
step three, remove any foreign objects or dead skin
step four, suture as required for nastier injuries
step five, wrap a clean cloth over, under, over, under, then fasten
there’s a procedure and it makes sense
but when it’s invisible, what do you do?
there are no medical diagrams, procedures or journals that teach you how to heal your own hurt
you may be the crew’s surgeon, but you wonder how qualified you truly are if you can’t even fix yourself
the skies are clear today and the sun shines down directly on your exposed skin
it’s uncomfortable but you don’t move, limbs feeling just a little too strung tight to cooperate
you don’t think you have the energy to do much more than to just lie there and exist
and the burn of the sunlight is kind of nice
it tells you that you’re still alive - even if the feeling of living is pain
that’s where mingi finds you twenty minutes later, his face upside down as he leans over to look at your face-
only to very nearly drop a block of wood right onto you
“oh, shit,” he fumbles as the multitude of items he is carrying to his chest falls and clatters onto the deck around your head
you jolt up to save yourself from a bruised forehead and eye him, curiosity well and truly piqued
with a huff, he piles everything in front of you, followed by himself as he sits cross-legged in front of you
he looks suspiciously hopeful and expectant
“can you carve me another dolphin?”
months ago, you had tried carving ornamental animals out of small scraps of wood left over from a hull repair
most of your carvings had turned out hideous and you had tossed them overboard, but mingi had not stopped following you and begging until you gave him one
you could barely even call it a dolphin, but for some reason, he has kept it since like it’s something valuable
“i already made you one,” you start
but he protests, “i lost him!”
you blink
nevermind. maybe not so valuable
“...you lost it?”
you’re not sure whether you’re disappointed or relieved that it’s forever gone to the void
“i lost him, yes. so can you please carve me a new one?”
you blink once more and he looks back at you with wide, pleading eyes
“fine, pass me the knife,” you finally relent
he grins, handing something that feels quite familiar into your outstretched hand
“are these my scalpels?!” you clutch them defensively to your chest. “mingi, i am not carving wood with these”
mingi breaks out into pleased laughter, crescent eyes and gaping mouth as he produces a pocket knife that you can actually use
“you’re ridiculous,” you tell him, setting your medical instruments safely to one side, but you don’t really mean it
you bring the blade of the pocket knife to the edge of the wood and start whittling away
you expect mingi to get up and leave you to your devices, except he doesn’t
he stays and asks you question after question about the carving
which part are you working on now?
how do you shape the tail?
what was the first thing you tried to carve?
if you could carve something else after this, what would it be?
and it goes on for hours - as the wood gradually takes shape of the animal, as the harsh sun lowers and is replaced by the cool breeze of evening
…as mingi fills up your sinkhole and you are no longer grasping at the edges to stay afloat
it happens without you even realising, but he lets you take refuge in him from your own thoughts
and later that night, when the crew are preparing to sleep for the night, mingi will place the newly-carved dolphin at the head of his hammock
he will itch to rummage through the small chest that holds his personal belongings and treasures
he will want to unwrap the small object he has hidden away at the very bottom of his chest and put it side by side with the dolphin
but he won’t, because otherwise you’ll see the two dolphins and realise that he was lying about having lost the first one, so he’ll opt to keep it hidden
mingi thinks that he might even ask you to carve him something else tomorrow
he’ll say that his dolphin needs somebody by its side
what he won’t say though, is that he knows you need somebody by your side
and if he can offer you a few hours of mindlessness while you carve with him beside you, then he’ll ask you to make him a whole aquarium of animals
but that’s tomorrow
for now, he lets you rest on him, and you find that it doesn’t seem quite as hard to exist anymore
because sometimes, even surgeons need their own healers
you don’t have another bad day that week
technically, they’re all still bad days, but they aren’t as bad
but as it is with your luck, it all comes back to drag you underwater when the arriba pulls into port malthov and lowers its anchor
of all days, your head feels foggy, your body feels empty and your lungs feel laboured
you’re not even sad
you’re just…hollow
and the worst part is that you have absolutely no reason to be feeling this way
being up in the crow’s nest for once has given you the perfect vantage point to watch as the majority of the crew precariously run off the gangplank with whoops and hollers, splitting off to explore the town
their excitement is infectious - to everybody but you
instead, you had offered to take over yeosang’s lookout duties so that he could go to the town’s tavern
you’ve already rotted the morning and most of the afternoon away and your stomach grumbles in protest at having skipped both meals
it knows that you probably won’t be eating dinner either
“y/n,” a voice calls out to you from the deck, “are you not going into town?”
you peer over the edge of the nest and find mingi’s small form, his head craned upwards in your direction
“lookout duties,” you simply say
but mingi calls your bluff
“the whole point of shore leave is that we all get time off. captain’s still on board to make sure our ship doesn’t catch on fire or some shit, don’t worry”
when you still don’t make a move, mingi starts to climb up the rigging and you startle to your feet
“heavens, okay, i’m coming down”
he’s banned from rigging duties for a reason
when you land on the upper deck, he looks awfully smug with himself
he asks, “can we go eat seafood? not fish, but like the good stuff”
“since when did you like seafood?”
“always?”
mingi did not always like seafood but you let it slide
he guides you across the gangplank and towards the bustling streets of the town, keeping you tucked closely into his side
almost like he knows you’re feeling more fragile than usual
you two come across a market and he tells you to find a table in the outdoor seating area
when he returns to you after a while, both his hands are stacked with platters of shrimp, some crabs and even a lobster
“mingi, what-?” you break out into an astounded laugh
you can’t even find it in yourself to finish your sentence because it looks like he’s bought enough food to feed half your crew
he sets the plates down in front of you, one by one, until you can barely see the table itself
and you watch, still incredulous, as he picks up a steamed shrimp, meticulously peeling off the shells that he discards onto his plate
…before placing the peeled shrimp onto the plate in front of you
“eat,” he encourages
mingi picks up another shrimp to peel, looking away from you so as not to pressure you
but he can’t help but look and smile widely when you do eventually bring the food up to your mouth and take a bite
it tastes good
shrimp has always been one of the things you miss the most when you’re sailing and as the salty taste of the ocean spreads across your tongue, you start to feel your appetite returning
by the time you’ve swallowed, there’s already another shrimp on your plate, peeled and ready for eating
mingi smiles knowingly when you groan around your next bite
the sun may have already started to disappear into the horizon, but right now with mingi’s plate piling up with discarded shells and yours with juicy shrimp meat, the hollow cavity in your chest slowly filling with warmth, the sun is only just starting to rise for you
and mingi will keep filling your plate until your sun has fully risen into the sky
because sometimes, healing needs the help of an extra pair of hands
the day before your crew is scheduled to leave port malthov, you find yourself sitting on the sandy shores of the coastline, far away from where the arriba is docked
the wind tugs at your hair and the hems of your clothing in the direction of the ocean
you wonder what it would be like to just let yourself go and float along with the wind
your thoughts are interrupted by the soft squeaks of bare feet in the sand approaching you and mingi lowers himself down to sit by your side
no matter where you hide, he somehow always finds you
you give him a small smile when he calls your name in greeting, but it’s all you can really manage to do
it’s hard for you to talk today
but he already knows that
“can i tell you a story?” mingi isn’t really asking you
without waiting for a response he knows you can’t give, he starts to talk
“i don’t think i’ve told you about the time when yunho and i went skinny-dipping at night. i swear we saw the kraken that night”
he has told you this story before
more times than you can count on your fingers and toes combined - to the point where you have some of his exact phrases and expressions memorised
mingi knows he’s told you this story before
but he drones on anyway, adding his usual touches of dramatic flair and exaggerated details - words that he hopes keep you grounded to the spot so that you don’t disappear with the wind
(“did you know that yunho’s chest goes red when he screams in fright?”)
you want to make silly little comments about his silly little story
you want to laugh in harmony with mingi’s own rumbling sounds
except you can’t
it’s like whatever you want to say goes through a paper shredder right before it comes out of your mouth
and mingi knows
but he is willing to take all the time in the world to tape your words back together, shredded piece by shredded piece, until he can make you feel heard and seen
and even if you don’t talk, he is there to do enough talking for the both of you
some things don’t need to be said - he understands either way
because sometimes, healing looks like walking backwards on any progress that’s been made and that’s okay
after all…mingi’s been there before, too
the arriba sets sail again and hongjoong allows the crew one last night of rest before your usual duties resume
the stock of fresh produce and meat won’t last for longer than a couple of days anyway, so you all feast your stomach’s fill of food and alcohol
someone brings out an accordion and you all gather together on the upper deck as jongho sings to the music, background filled with the lively rattling of shared plates and mugs being passed around
the air is chilly but it’s crisp and fresh whenever you take a breath of it into your lungs
where being with the multitude of your crew usually makes you feel lonely, tonight, it feels okay
and from beside you, mingi sings along quietly to the music
his voice is not like jongho’s, which is soulful, emotional and powerful
mingi’s voice is deep, honest and raw as he sings the lyrics to the song of a man who is drowning and yearning to be saved
he looks at you during the last bridge, when the key changes from sorrowful to hopeful and the words tell of a man who is saved by his lover
you smile back at him, genuinely content in this moment
and even if it is only briefly, even if you will still have bad days in the future, you think that today is a good day
because healing takes form in all different ways, and being loved is one of them
maybe one day, mingi will be able to confess that he loves you
when he’s confident that you’ll be able to accept his love
not in the way where he expects you to reciprocate the same feelings for him, no
but in the way where you are able to accept the fact that you are worthy of being loved
there are no medical diagrams, procedures or journals that teach you how to heal your own hurt
but you have mingi and he is making one for you
it’s written with the ink of love on the very pages of his own heart and he will not stop writing until the day you are well and truly happy
and even if it takes forever?
well
mingi’s got a huge fucking heart
and it’s all yours
wooyoung
pov: you find a stowaway on your ship
“we’re headed off course again”
“again?” you look at your helmsman with furrowed brows
yunho nods, sighing out his next words, “i can’t get a read on north. the needle keeps flickering”
you look at the compass that’s mounted at the helm and true to his words, the tip of the arrow seesaws back and forth over the cardinal point
a quick glance down tells you that the newer compass you’ve got in your pocket is also behaving in the same manner, needle twitching despite the practised steadiness of your hands
so you know for sure that it’s not a fault in the instrument at the helm itself
but even if it were to be faulty, you would never replace it
not when it’s one of the only things you have remaining of your parents after they perished at sea
“maybe we should ask him,” yunho suggests, beckoning his head towards the deck
although seonghwa hums thoughtfully, having joined you both at the helm mid-conversation, you look at him incredulously
“you trust that person?”
yunho shrugs, “it’s not like he’s given us a reason to not trust him”
well
considering said man had been found stowing away in the cargo five days after your ship had left alcarres, who then also tried to plead for mercy by reasoning that he was ‘valuable’, you think that there’s plenty of reasons to not trust him
yunho rectifies his argument once he sees the pinched expression on your face, “as in, since we’ve found him on board”
you close your eyes and exhale
admittedly, yunho has a point
and there’s been one too many times where the man has flippantly suggested navigational changes or casually observed shifts in the winds and waters - which all turned out to be accurate - for it to be sheer luck
you open your eyes and call out to the upper deck
“stowaway”
yunho winces as seonghwa chides you with a slight elbow to your side at your choice of name, or lack thereof
said man looks at you from where he’s helping san and yeosang swab the deck, mouth tightening with wariness
the last time you had spoken the same word, it was along with an order to throw him into the brig with his wrists bound behind his back
but considering that that was the extent of his punishment for stowing away on your ship and he is now mingling amongst your crew with minimal security measures on your orders too, really, he’s gotten off scot-free
the stowaway approaches the quarterdeck with hesitant steps
you jerk your head towards the helm, “help yunho navigate the rest of the way to vlasgar. just until we can dock and work out what’s wrong with the compasses''
despite the curtness of your order, his face scrunches up into an enthusiastic grin
“of course, captain!”
you’re taken aback by his demeanour because you’re trying to find a reason to distrust him
but he’s not giving it to you
you watch as the stowaway makes himself comfortable against the helm rails and easily slips into conversation and banter with yunho amidst intermittent pointers to adjust the rudder
seonghwa nudges you from behind, “give him a little credit”
you scratch your neck awkwardly before calling out to your helmsman
“keep me updated on the ship’s course”
yunho nods and then you clear your throat, quickly glancing at the stowaway
“and thanks…wooyoung.”
you turn and leave the quarterdeck before you can fully catch a glimpse of the delighted smile the man beams at you
because if he’s not giving you reasons to dislike him, then you’re going to ensure he doesn’t start giving you reasons to like him
except…wooyoung attacks when you least expect it
it’s the night before your crew reaches vlasgar, and true to his claims when he was first discovered onboard, wooyoung has proven his value by navigating your ship through the waters without the aid of the malfunctioning compass
his innate sense for shifts in the wind and waters, combined with his understanding of celestial navigation and use of dead reckoning has meant that he is extraordinarily precise with his route
honestly, he’s freakishly accurate to the point where it’s a little unsettling
at least that’s what you tell yourself
you and hongjoong have given the crew the night off from their usual duties in preparation for a few busy days of maintenance and intel-gathering once your ship docks at vlasgar
wooyoung offers to cook in the galley and whip up a meal as fancy as he can from the select ingredients on board
you don’t have a good reason to deny him, not when the rest of your crew looks at you with eager faces at the thought of a meal that isn’t just the usual salted meat, so you send mingi along to help him locate the ingredients
also to keep an eye on wooyoung to ensure he isn’t using this as an opportunity to poison your crew, but you’re not about to admit that aloud
and that’s exactly when wooyoung chooses to attack
he attacks your heart with his cooking
granted, the standards are rock bottom, but wooyoung utilises a deadly combination of rosemary, thyme and bay leaves to prepare a hearty broth with preserved beef
he serves hardtack on the side to be softened and eaten with the broth, and jongho even manages to catch a few fish that wooyoung then scores and grills with lemon slices over the fire
mingi must also be in good spirits because he takes out the reserve of dried fruits and nuts that he’s usually pedantic over and allows wooyoung to arrange them artfully in a wooden bowl as nibblers to go with the profusion of rum that will inevitably be downed tonight
the impressive spread of food is placed on the upper deck where the entire crew sit in a rough circle together
you take one bite into the beef and curse without realising
“fucking hell, what did he put in this?”
wooyoung freezes mid-spoonful across from you in the circle
realising your words sound petrifying without context, you awkwardly amend them with your eyes glued to your bowl, “i could eat this every day,” before shoving another spoon of broth into your mouth to shut yourself up
there’s a chorus of teasing oooh’s at your words and somebody sing-songs, “captain likes youuu-r cooking”
“i don’t,” you scoff, completely ready to bite the bait and engage in this childish argument
but it’s him who comes to your defence
“it’s not my cooking, it’s just the spices that make a difference,” wooyoung insists
then he’s gesturing to the grilled fish and telling everyone to try, diverting the attention away from you
you accidentally make eye contact with him and initially flicker your eyes away out of embarrassment, but when you chance a peek back at him he’s still looking at you, his expression uncharacteristically calm and gentle when usually all you can hear these days is his raucous laughter bouncing across the deck
…not that you can recognise his laughter or anything
you stare at each other for a few more seconds before you lift up your bowl of beef broth and give him a little smile
you leave it up to him to interpret it however he wants
and just before you look away, you see the apples of his cheeks rounding with elation
wooyoung’s potentially earned himself a few points with his cooking (and perhaps with his unfailing happiness too), but maybe you’re just looking for excuses as to why you’re allowed to like him now
when you decide to take a walk in town long after midnight, your quarters having felt stuffy ever since you’d docked at vlasgar, you’re surprised to find that you’re not the only one still awake
“i’m going out for some air and maybe a drink, did you want to come?”
hongjoong shakes his head, “hwa’s gone out too, i’ll stay behind”
you pause, wondering whether it’d be rude if you didn’t extend the invitation to wooyoung, considering he’s literally two feet away
“what about you?” you end up offering
wooyoung excitedly hops up to his feet, “yeah, i’ll come with”
to your own surprise, you find that you’re not particularly disappointed by his response
the streets of vlasgar are empty, considering the late hour, and your leather shoes clack in unison against the cobblestones as you walk together
you’re not really sure what to say to fill the silence but wooyoung easily talks about anything and everything and you’re content to just listen
your feet eventually take you towards a small alehouse and you both settle down at one of the tables further away from the live music playing
the oil lamps flicker dimly along the wall, casting small dancing shadows on the surface of your mugs of ale
“my father never liked the taste of ale,” wooyoung suddenly muses after a swallow
you note the use of past tense
“is he…still around?” you ask tentatively
he makes a noise of refutation, the quietest he’s been tonight, before he reveals, “he took his own life”
“oh, wooyoung,” you breathe out
he curls his hands around his mug, “it’s already been two years, but it still hurts”
in a moment of empathy, you gently place your hand over his
your tone is bitter when you reply, “time doesn’t mean that it hurts any less, it just gets easier to pretend that it doesn’t”
he looks up at you, surprised by the touch of your hand but also by the sorrow reflected in your eyes
“have you also lost somebody?”
you nod at his question
“my parents,” you hesitate before adding, “their ship got swept under a rogue wave, the same night it turned into a tidal wave that destroyed the city of light”
wooyoung looks at you with wide eyes, “the one along the north coast? six- no, seven years ago?”
there’s not a single person who doesn’t know about it; when an apocalyptic wave had wiped out an entire city overnight
he places his other hand over yours when you nod again, creating a sandwich of comforting hands in the shared experience of loss and grief
you smile wistfully and he returns it
“well now that we’ve exchanged childhood trauma, care to tell me the real reason why you were on my ship, stowaway?” you half-joke
wooyoung laughs, each breath a pronounced cackle of joy, and you find the corners of your lips pulling themselves upwards too
“i’m being chased by a lunatic who’s out for my blood,” he deadpans
“that would have been nice to know before i let you join my crew”
wooyoung grins wickedly, “i’m part of your crew?”
“i’m definitely rethinking it,” you banter before you add on seriously, “only if you want to be”
he pulls his hands back to salute you loudly, “it would be my honour to be your human compass! jung wooyoung at your crew’s service!”
“shut the fuck up!” you hiss in embarrassment, but there’s no bite to your words and you’re laughing into your own hands
you tip back the remains of your ale and then beckon to wooyoung, “let’s head back, shall we?”
“yeah,” he gives you a dazzling smile
he pushes his chair back to stand up and you head towards the doors together
just as you walk past one of the tables, a man abruptly stands up and knocks into wooyoung’s shoulder harshly
your hand flies out to steady him as the man stares at wooyoung, then turns to leave without another word
“what’s his problem,” you mutter angrily. “are you okay?”
wooyoung reassures you with a placating squeeze to your arm before leading you out of the alehouse
as you retrace your steps back to the ship, you pass by a rickety stall that makes you falter
the wood of the table is rotting and standing on its last legs and there’s a roughly thatched roof propped up above its goods
even though the stall is enshrouded by the shadows of the clouded moonlight, you still wonder how you missed it on your way to the alehouse, considering it’s the only stall along the empty street, and with a vendor, no less
there’s an old woman bearing the burdens of living across her skin and in her posture, sitting hunched on an equally as weathered crate beside the table
you’re drawn towards it - by its ambience, seller or the familiar instruments lain on the table, you don’t know
the woman’s head is covered by a dusty shawl but you don’t miss the way her eyes bore beadily into wooyoung as you both approach
you reach out and skim your fingertips across the cool brass of the compasses on the table
a frown adorns your face when you notice there’s something strange about all of them
like the compass in your own pocket and the one mounted on your ship’s helm, the needles all swing indecisively over the north point, as if some unknown force is meddling with the magnetic field of the earth itself
you let out a little scoff of disbelief, “they’re all useless”
with a final glance at the table, you and wooyoung start to walk off
but then a raspy voice beckons at your backs, a ghost of a hand that tickles the hair on the nape of your necks, “the only time a compass is useless is when you have something better nearby”
unable to ignore the sensation, you look over your shoulder, “what do you mean by something better?”
a toothless smile; one that appears to know a secret that it doesn’t want to let you in on
“true north”
her cryptic answer alone is enough to tell you that you’re wasting your time
she doesn’t say anything else when you walk off for good this time after bidding her a tight-smiled farewell, not that you would have stopped either way if she did
wooyoung hurries to catch up to you
as he falls into step with you, he asks, “do you believe what she’s saying?”
“of course not, it doesn’t make any sense,” you glance at the tavern you’re walking past, telling you that the port is close now. “how can you have true north?”
wooyoung’s brows knit together, “well, there’s that old legend that says true north isn’t actually a direction, but a-”
he’s cut off by an amused voice behind you both
“so it really is you…jung wooyoung”
when you turn around, you’re met with the sight of a man donning a long, velvet coat and buckled shoes - articles of clothing very obviously pirated from the wealthy
it’s evident that he and wooyoung are acquainted in one way or another, but from the way wooyoung’s face loses its colour, they’re acquainted in a bad way
immediately, your hackles are raised
the man’s tone is saccharine as he continues, “when one of my men said that they had spotted you, i didn’t believe him”
“what do you want?” you snarl at the same time wooyoung murmurs next to you, “it’s the lunatic. jang hyunsoo”
hyunsoo cocks his head as he stares you dead in the eye, “i want him. dead.”
your face darkens, unwilling to back down, “and why are you so intent on killing him?”
“oh?” he raises an eyebrow in delight at your answer. “you must not know who he truly is”
sick of his bullshit, you reach down towards your belt to unsheath a throwing dagger and hold it in front of your body, “i don’t care who the fuck he is. he’s my crew member and that’s all that ma-”
“he’s the man that the legends speak of. blessed by the sea gods, bearer of the oceans’ wisdom - jung wooyoung is true north”
those two words again
you don’t understand why everyone you come across today seems to be so fixated on the idea of…
suddenly, you remember.
legends tell a story of true north - not a direction pointing to the earth’s axis, but a person
a man blessed by the gods of the sea with the power to be all-knowing when it comes to the waters
he possesses the innate ability to navigate without use of any instruments or celestial bodies; the wisdom of which passageways and courses to sail; the subconscious understanding of mother nature and her elements
the powers are passed down through his bloodline for generations, but the blessing does not stay sacred for long
human greed and coveting eventually lead to the murder of the bearer of true north at the time, and the powers are transferred to the murderer, permanently staining the bloodline and commencing the paradoxical cycle of sinning for a blessing
however, this does not go unpunished
the gods of the sea are enraged and in their uncontainable wrath they cause-
your memory ends there no matter how hard you try to recall the rest of the legend
wooyoung interrupts
“if you kill me, there’s no guarantee you’ll survive the consequences,” he tries to reason with the other. “just have a look at how close we are to sea”
you’re lost but hyunsoo sneers, “it’s not your power that i’m hungry for. it’s only fair that i spill your blood, after your father spilled the blood of my family”
at the mention of his father, wooyoung growls, “what the fuck do you think you’re saying”
“how do you think your father became true north? or better yet, let me jog your memory,” hyunsoo’s expression becomes hauntingly blank, “what happened seven years ago that wiped out a whole city because the sea gods had been angered?”
your breath hitches as you involuntarily whisper, the remaining piece of the puzzle slotting into memory, “...a tidal wave”
“yes,” he acknowledges your words but keeps his eyes drilling into wooyoung, “because true north - my father - was killed”
as were your parents by extension of the consequences
“killed by my father,” wooyoung concludes, voice frail as everything rapidly starts to reveal itself
one more revelation makes him look at you with a face of horror and remorse, “y/n…your parents…”
without hesitation, you push aside your own anguish for him
“wooyoung,” you warn, “it’s not your fault”
because you see it
the very moment his eyes start clouding over as he willingly takes on the burden of guilt wrongfully left behind by his deceased father - the same guilt that eventually took the man’s own life
wooyoung, who, with a heart and soul too pure, would rather take the blame himself than to push it onto somebody else
you step in front of him, knife raised in protection
because despite your best efforts, wooyoung had not only secretly stowed himself away on your ship but has also secretly stowed himself away in your heart
“what are you doing?” he tries to tug you behind him
there’s a teasing lilt in your voice as you stand steadfast, “stowaway, you’ve ruined navigating for me now - made it too easy for me and the crew. so you better fuckin’ take responsibility and be my compass for as long as i sail”
“how touching,” hyunsoo coos patronisingly before he draws the cutlass from his sheath, “looks like i’ll just have to kill the both of you”
you don’t stop wooyoung this time from stepping up to stand by your side, his own hands armed with dual daggers and his demeanour now iron-willed to fight
because if you’re prepared to fight for him, then wooyoung is prepared to fight twice as hard for you
tonight, either hyunsoo dies, or you both go down trying
the tension in the air is punctuated only by the slight scrape of your soles as you and wooyoung lower your stances and shift further onto your front feet
you had never believed in the sea gods until now, but you pray that they’re watching over you both
and indeed they are
they answer your prayers in the form of a deafening gunshot in the nearby tavern
hyunsoo flinches at the sudden commotion - only slightly, but the distraction in attentiveness is more than enough
now.
as you and wooyoung leap forward together in unison, weapons raised, the needles in your hearts’ compasses waver for one final time before they settle and point resolutely in one direction
your needle at wooyoung; wooyoung’s needle at you
because compasses will always point at true north and that’s exactly what you are to him and him to you
each other’s true north
jongho
pov: you're a mermaid who saves him
you follow the shadow of the ship’s hull, gliding effortlessly through the waters
you know that you shouldn’t be following so closely but it’s hard to refuse the temptation that comes hand in hand with storms
there’s a chance that vessels will toss cargo overboard as a last-ditch effort to save their ship from sinking
and if you’re really lucky, the vessel might sink entirely and you’ll be able to spend the next few days rummaging its ruins, scavenging for shiny treasures and intriguing objects
besides, what’s the worst that could happen?
no sailor or pirate in their right mind would think to cast a fishing net in this weather
you only have your carelessness and recklessness to blame, but regret won’t change anything about your current situation
you feel the strange lurch in your stomach as the fishing net you’re trapped inside is pulled out of the water, up along the side of the ship’s hull, until it levels with the gunwale
there’s someone standing there waiting
his face is still rounded and limbs still gangly with the telltale signs of youth
the fish around you jerk around desperately, a physical manifestation of your terror, while you lock eyes with the young teenager and grip at the net with white-knuckled fists
you are at his complete mercy
he stares in shock at your form, until you beg a single word
“please”
immediately, he draws a small pocket knife and starts to frantically cut through the net
there’s another questioning voice from somewhere on the deck that you can’t make out the words to, but from the way the boy in front of you picks up speed, you’re seconds away from being discovered
“come on, come on, come on,” the boy mutters through gritted teeth
there’s a slight jerk as he cuts through the strands of flax and a few fish slither their way out, the hole starting to become bigger
he lets out a hiss of pain when he accidentally slices through his own hand in his haste
but even then, he does not stop or falter
and then you hear it
the ripping of the material when the weight of yourself and the other fish tear the remainder of the net
you plummet into the ocean
and the last thing you see before the world above becomes blurred by the waters is the boy’s wide eyes peering over the ship’s edge as he watches you fall
jongho struggles to adjust his centre of gravity as the ropes stutter underneath him
he chances letting go of the rigging briefly with one hand so that he can wipe the rain out of his eyes, which is pouring down incessantly and obscuring his vision
overhead, the top sail continues to billow and flap in an angry dance as the rapidly shifting winds tangle it further
he swallows thickly and grips the rigging once again
he needs to climb up and untangle the damned sail, fast
one hand extending outwards to grab the running rigging, jongho supports himself on shaky legs so that he can unfurl the twisted edges of the sail from around the ropes
it’s difficult enough having to chase the mocking flits of the canvas in the gale, but it’s fucking hellish with the added lurching and pitching of the ship as it’s battered by the swells of the sea
he finally manages to get a good grip on the sail and tugs hard, feeling it give way and flush full as it catches the wind properly now that it’s free
except the force of it sends the material swelling right in his face and he slips
by some saving grace, the combined movement of another colossal wave sends his body careening through the air in a wide arch
he does not land on the upper deck in a heap of broken bones
instead, he plummets into the ocean
and the last thing jongho sees before he loses consciousness is the shimmer and flick of a tail
your body reacts instantaneously to the sudden intrusion of something plunging into the waters in front of you, your tail swishing to increase your distance
for a brief second your heart seizes up in fright at the thought of a harpoon
but then you see it - see him
apart from the young teen who had freed you years ago, you have never seen a human up close before
and certainly not one in the ocean; in your home
there is something about the man before you that is beautiful yet haunting
it is as if time and gravity have warped his very existence
you see a weak flail of legs, a desperate hand reaching for the surface, floating tendrils of hair, but even in the face of approaching death, his movements appear slow and graceful in the water
as the pockets of air and bubbles of foam dissipate from around him and cruelly escape upwards without him, the man stills - grand and slow as his form steadily starts to make a descent towards the sandy bottom of the ocean
in folklore amongst your merpeople, humans are as swift, sure and savage on land as they are aboard their monstrous vessels
and yet, watching the ethereal existence of this man before you, you realise that once humans are underwater, they are at the complete mercy of mother nature and her beings
you gingerly swim closer
when you wrap your arm around the man’s limp body, his skin is warm under your fingertips
you’re reminded of the fact that he is at your complete mercy
and so you swim.
the moment jongho regains consciousness, his chest involuntarily contracts in an attempt to take a huge, stuttering breath
he curls onto his side instead, one hand scrabbling in the wet sand and his other arm crushed between the ground and his upper body as he hacks up his lungs with retching motions
the salt water burns even more coming back up than it did going down and his eyes sting with tears
when the convulsions cease, jongho closes his eyes and rests his forehead against the cool sand, trying to regain his breath-
and bearings
the jarring clarity has him sitting up abruptly as he tries to recall where he is and what he’s doing
there was the storm
the tangled sail
him climbing up the riggings
falling down, down, down
and then…
you
your eyes widen when the man’s unfocused gaze suddenly sweeps the waters and lands on the small part of your face that is exposed and peering at him
instinctively, you duck underwater, the notion of hiding your existence from humans ingrained into you
but even though he only sees a glimpse of you, jongho would recognise you from anywhere
it’s hard to forget when he’s kept his eyes peeled on the waters since that day, hoping to see you once again
he can’t believe that the mermaid he once saved would end up being his saviour
but he guesses that’s what people call fate - an alignment of miracles
he glances around at his surroundings to find himself in the safety of a small cove
you dare to emerge your curious eyes again when you see the form of the man stand up with his gaze on the sand, seemingly in search of something
he fumbles along the edge of the coast, reaching down several times to grasp things too small for you to discern
it seems that he becomes satisfied with what he has found, because he then sets them all down in the wet sand - right where the tide kisses the shore in a teasing game of chase - and takes several steps backwards so that he is no longer close to the waters
the man scratches the back of his head as he gestures vaguely to the pile, appearing to want to say something before thinking better of it and turning around to pick at the driftwood further inland
you wait, trying to gauge his actions
but when it becomes clear to you that he is not attempting to catch you off guard, you cautiously swim closer to shore
you are able to rest your forearms comfortably on the shoreline’s sand from how close you get
and then you see it
a small pile of glossy pebbles and patterned shells
a peace offering of pretty things he could find that he thought you might like
you duck under the water again, but this time to hide your shy smile as opposed to an act of instinctual self-preservation
jongho looks at the hefty pile of dried wood that he has gathered in the meantime, deeming it enough to keep a fire going for the inevitable night he will have to spend at the cove
he’s tried his hardest not to look out to the waters, wanting to gain your trust
but he can’t help it this time when his eyes are drawn to the little mound of his sincerity in the sand
…only to find it untouched, and you nowhere to be seen
he tries not to feel disappointed
after all, you have no reason to trust him
so he sets his mind on starting a fire before the sun sets completely instead, trying to ignore the growing dryness in his throat
when he finally nurses a spark into a flame an hour later, jongho almost misses it in his fatigued state
but it’s unmistakable when he walks closer
gone is his own pile of pebbles and shells
in its stead is a jumbled collection of broken combs, rusted locks and a glass bottle
a peace offering of peculiar things you had found that you thought he might need
jongho doesn’t know it, but as he bends down to carefully gather every gift and safekeep them closer to his fire, he is not the only one with a bashful smile on his face
you tell yourself it’s purely curiosity and displaced familiarity that makes you linger and return to the cove the very next morning
you’re well aware what the risks are if you fall in love with a human
how many stories have you heard of mermaids and mermen alike, falling for a human, only for their love to be unilateral or rejected?
their tails slowly lose their lustre as gradual paralysis takes over until they lose complete control
quite literally drowning within their own body, they eventually sink to the bottom of the ocean to perish with the decaying wreckages of sunken ships…
and the countless corpses of sailors, pirates and other unfortunate souls alike
it’s ironic
no matter how much folklore makes out humans and merpeople to be different, you all end up the same in the face of death; buried in the soil of the earth or buried in the sand of the ocean bottom
side by side
jongho stands in that very ocean right now, sleeves and pants rolled up to keep them as dry as possible as he crouches over with the water up to his thighs
he would try to fashion a fishing hook or harpoon of some sort, but with the possibility that you may be close by in the waters, he doesn’t want to risk using anything that could hurt you
so he resorts to using his bare hands
you’ve been watching from the safety of the water for well over half an hour now, curious and slightly endeared by his clumsy attempts to grab at something
you’re not sure what, but you can see the fish as they dart teasingly through his legs and from out of his reach
for beings that are supposedly apex predators, this human doesn’t seem intimidating at all
so, very cautiously, you swim up closer to him
jongho feels himself freezing at the sight of you approaching - not because he’s afraid of you, but because he’s afraid he’ll scare you away
he holds his breath as you hesitate and linger just out of his reach, then swim up and bump his leg playfully with your tail as you circle around him once
he’s reminded of a puppy wanting to sniff out somebody unfamiliar and his eyes follow your form with rounded fondness
“hi,” he breathes out softly, “i’m jongho”
your tail swishes with sudden movement, splashing him with water and he giggles
you can hear it clearly even from under water and your heart nearly stops
if this man - if jongho - was a siren, the sounds of his happiness would be his song of calling
you want to hear it again
jongho sucks in a breath when you dare to emerge from the water’s surface, presenting him with a fish held carefully between your lips and one more in each of your hands
he’s a little dumbfounded at how easily you managed to catch them as he gently takes the one from in between your teeth
the still-flailing fish in his hands is peppered with two tiny neat rows of puncture holes where you had carefully bitten into it
he finds it so fucking cute, especially when you continue to peer up at him with expectant eyes, wanting to know if it was the fish that he was trying to catch this whole time
he wants to thank you, and not just for the fish
so he fumbles through his words when he asks, “would you like to eat with me? unless…” he trails off, “unless you don’t eat fish because…”
are mermaids technically fish?
did he really just offer you the mermaid equivalent of human flesh to eat?
before jongho can panic and try to salvage the situation, you give him a shy smile and nod
jongho makes a fire as close to the shore as possible without the wood at risk of becoming wet
as he spears the fish onto sticks so that he can hold them over the flames, you gather the courage to slide out of the shallow waters so that you can lay on the damp sand closer to him
whilst you can for short periods, you rarely ever fully emerge out of the waters because you leave yourself vulnerable without the full mobility of your body
but jongho makes you feel safe enough to do so
and he must at least partially recognise the amount of trust you are placing in him because he looks at you in awe, the unveiled beauty of your tail now in full display
your scales are a kaleidoscope of cerulean, mauve and periwinkle, reflecting onto the sand below you in a magical dance with each of your slight movements
he notices that the gradient peters out into shades of salmon and coral the closer the scales are to your waist and he cannot tear his eyes away from you
jongho thinks to himself that you were created by the hands of the sea god, who then named the word beautiful after you
and even then, the word does not seem to do you justice
“why are you staring?”
your voice is simultaneously bashful and teasing, yet jongho is utterly mortified that your first words to him are ones exposing his smitten behaviour
his brain kickstarts in panic and he blurts out the first thing that comes to mind
“if your tail gets too close to fire, will you start smelling like grilled fish?”
for a split second, your expression contorts into one of pure horror, before the absurdity of his question breaks down the remainder of your reservations and you lose yourself in laughter
a pretty blush settles over the round of jongho’s cheeks and then he is also laughing with you
together, where the land and sea unite, the sounds of your shared happiness fill the air
his song of calling chimes melodiously in your heart even as you swim away for the night
but the dangerous thing about a siren’s song is that you don’t realise you’ve become captivated…
until it’s too late
you’re looking down at the object in your hands as you swim for the cove
it’s cream-coloured and smooth to touch, with several blunt tips extending from one side
you’ve always wondered what it is and so you decide to see if jongho will know
you don’t notice the large rock formation jutting out of the seabed until it’s almost right in front of you and at the last second, you flex your tail to manoeuvre yourself around it
except you must miscalculate your distance because you end up grazing yourself on the sharp edges of the rock
it doesn’t puncture your scales but it certainly catches you off guard - your organs and senses work in a way that ensures you never collide into anything so long as you are underwater
so then, why?
you look down and your heart drops
tentatively, you spin around once, eyes never leaving their focus
you realise it’s not a trick of the lighting or the water
your scales have started to lose their shimmer
jongho is beginning to think that you won’t show up today when you finally do, one of your treasures cradled in your hands and a smile on your face that doesn’t quite reach your eyes
(you weren’t going to show up, not after realising that you need to stop yourself from falling further in love with jongho if you want to live, but you decide to be selfish one last time and say goodbye, even if you’re the only one who knows it’s a goodbye)
“what’s that?” he gestures towards your hands with his chin as you slide your upper body out of the shallow waters, leaving your tail to be submerged when the waves come in
you uncurl your fingers with a shrug
“it’s a comb,” he answers his own question as he turns it over in his hand, “made out of animal bone, i think”
you look at him curiously as he sits down, unbothered about wetting his clothes, and you ask, “what’s a comb?”
jongho brings it up to his head and pretends to move it up and down
“you run it through your hair to untangle it”
he pauses as his eyes flicker to your hair then back to your face
“i can…show you how to use it…if you want?” he offers
just once, you’ll allow yourself to get close to him just this once
when you nod and sit up, jongho shifts himself so that he is behind you
you try not to shiver when you feel the heat of his chest enveloping your back as he reaches forward to gently gather the hair from around your face and neck
he steadies your head with one of his hands, the other bringing the teeth of the comb through the slight waves of your hair
his touch is soft and loving in the way he tries not to tug too hard when he encounters a knot
his fingertips skim against you intimately but with an innocence that betrays the fact that he has never brushed somebody’s hair before
you feel your shoulders relaxing into his touch and your eyes close, blissfully - and perhaps deliberately - ignorant to the fading radiance of your body
“are you feeling okay?” jongho’s voice sounds even more alluring when it’s right next to your ear and you can’t help but shudder this time. “you seem paler than usual”
he brings a hand down to your waist and turns you towards him so that he can see you better
you try to formulate an answer, “i…”
i think i’m in love with you
of course, you would never tell him that
but before you can tell him that you’re fine, you become distracted by the glimpse of something on his hand that’s still resting on your waist
a scar
“is that- how did you get this?”
you run your thumb lightly over the taut, white line that runs from his wrist to the knuckle of his index finger
as you’re suddenly reminded of the familiar memory of a teenager with rounded cheeks and gangly limbs, the man beside you with those very same eyes looks at you fondly
“i cut myself trying to free a mermaid from a fishing net”
your gaze is unfocused as you process the information
the effects of the shattering revelation are immediate and a terrifying numbness starts to creep up your tail
because what you didn’t know - what nobody in folklore knew - was that the effects of paralysis and onset of death are accelerated when you fall in love with someone again for the second time
years ago, your heart had been claimed by the young man who had freed you at his own expense
you had managed to survive the heartbreak due to the briefness of your encounter, your paralysis fading and tail regaining its beauty when you never saw him again
but the effects of your unilateral love have not vanished entirely as you and your merpeople have believed it to
they have simply lay dormant like a disease, waiting for the right time to resurface when your feelings are rekindled
and so now it snowballs and gains traction at a speed that cannot be stopped, racing to catch up on the numerous years that you have cheated death where you thought you did not love jongho
“why is your tail turning grey?” the voice of the man you love is pinched with muted panic
you never thought you would ever be afraid of your own tail; your own body
yet, when you look down to see the monochrome advancing up each layer of your scales, you are absolutely petrified
your tail is starting to look like a stone statue and you know it won’t be long until that’s exactly what you become - motionless and unmoving
“y/n! why is your tail grey?!” jongho repeats with a shout, in full blown panic due to your lack of response
you can’t- won’t die in front of him
your lower body is almost deadweight with immobility and you bite back tears as you’re forced to crawl pathetically towards the water with your arms
jongho scrabbles to his feet as he hovers next to you, hands wanting to help but not quite touching you because he’s not sure what’s happening and he doesn’t know what he can do for you and you look like you’re in pain but he doesn’t know why-
“don’t!” you bark out sharply
he freezes in shock
you’re frightened and angry and you want to yell at something, someone, but…
you could never yell at jongho
with a much softer, albeit shaky voice, you tell him, “don’t look for me”
and before you can hear the pained noise that escapes jongho’s lips, you drag yourself back into the water
except a few metres after you’ve submerge yourself, the unthinkable happens
you. cannot. breathe.
you’re drowning.
jongho doesn’t care if you’ll hate him forever, doesn’t care if this is the last time you’ll choose to see him, but he will not just stand and watch when it looks like you are leaving to die alone
his body moves with the decisions of his heart before his mind tells him otherwise
he dives into the water after you
the world distorts around him; a moment of weightlessness as the waters easily shift to accommodate his body; the bubbling sound of air pockets reverberating inside his very skull; the shock of cold that overrides every other bodily sense
jongho forces his eyes open with numerous blinks until he can see you
your form is eerily still, and yet, you remain bewitching
he kicks his legs desperately with one arm outstretched and as soon as you are within reach, he tugs you into his chest
you’re limp to touch, lips slack and parted as if the very essence of your soul is escaping through your mouth
jongho will not let you die
lungs starting to burn and heartbeat pounding in his ears, he presses his lips against yours
a kiss of life-
he closes his eyes
-and love
but you don’t respond
jongho ignores his instincts even as his body screams to part from you and kick upwards for a breath
instead, he moves his jaws to kiss you even harder
and then he feels it
he almost sobs into you when your lips twitch weakly against his
with renewed vigour, you’re sealing your mouth around his bottom lip as you respond, capturing him in a real kiss
below your joined lips, your scales start to bloom with their full brilliance once again
your tail shimmers brighter than before, reflecting intricate patterns of fractals with each slight ripple of the water as you open your eyes to the sight of jongho’s face, beautifully swathed in the incandescence of the rainbow
you can move again
you flick your tail, jongho’s arms still firmly around your waist and you both burst upwards, breaking the water’s surface with spluttering breaths
he desperately treads you both backwards towards the shore even though you can easily hold your own now
“jongho, you-”
he takes one look at you before he cuts your words off and plunges himself back underwater, stunning you into stupor, until he re-emerges with another splutter
“your tail!” he yells with overwhelming relief, face still scrunched as he tries to sweep his fringe up and wipe the water from out of his eyes
“yeah…” voice muted as you process the fact that you’re still alive, “my tail…”
“fuck, you scared me”
jongho’s eyes are bloodshot as they stare into yours, and you know for a fact that they aren’t just red from the irritation of salt water
you bring up a hand to rest it on his chest, right where his heart still thumps rapidly under your touch, and you apologise with a small smile, “sorry…i scared me, too”
he huffs a little before looking at you earnestly
“don’t ever do that again”
the water is now shallow enough that jongho can stand, but it’s deep enough that you can still drift effortlessly
it’s the perfect harmony where land and sea unite; where a human and a mermaid interact
where you, the enchanter, and jongho, the enchanted, find a balance of love
“i won’t,” you promise
on land, humans tell a story of a mermaid who falls in love with a man
a mermaid who is ready to give up her voice in exchange for her happily ever after
but in the sea, merpeople tell a story of a man who falls in love with a mermaid
a man who is ready to give up his life in exchange for his happily ever after
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Cherry Pie. aka - Cherry, Part Three.
There are certain things in life that can’t be denied. You’re starting to think maybe you and Steve are one of them.
pairing - bestfriend!steve harrington x female reader
warnings - smut. cursing.
word count - 2.6k
authors note - part three has arrived!! thanks for your patience, angels. thank you for all your continued enthusiasm and support for this series. I love them and I love you <3 as always, please reblog if you enjoyed!! it’s the only way to circulate my fics <3
masterlist. inbox. series masterlist.
“The prettiest girl in the world just walked in.”
“Your mom?”
“Funny, Harrington. Try again.”
“My Cherry?”
Robin smiles knowingly, nodding her head. Not only did Steve automatically associate you with the phrase prettiest girl in the world, but he called you his. Some days, she wished she could slap him square across the face in hopes of waking him up to what everyone else could see so clearly.
“Hi, you two. Working hard, or hardly working?”
You giggle, and the sound bounces off the metal shelves of the Family Video Store. Steve’s mesmerised, stood unmoving with a beaming grin on his face.
“I’m the first, Steve’s the second.”
The boy kicks his coworker in the shin, laughing when she pinches the bare skin of his arm in retaliation.
“Not true.”
Steve takes you in for a second, stuck still in his place. You’re wearing his favourite sundress, all patterned and pretty in front of him. Your lips are glossy and skin glowy, sneakers on your feet a perfect white. The perfect picture of a summer day.
“What are you doing here?” Robin asks, breaking him out of his haze. He snaps back to reality and throws an arm around your shoulders, kissing your temple sweetly.
“I was nearby anyway, thought I’d come in and see if you were busy. And I had to remind Steve to pick a movie for tonight.”
“We’re not watching a romcom.”
“We’re watching a romcom,” you say at the same time as Steve while Robin laughs.
“I better grab the new stock from the back. See you later,” she says, winking at the boy who still has you pulled tight into his side.
He rests his chin on the top of your head, inhaling the scent of your cherry conditioner and vanilla body wash. If Steve gets to heaven, he’s convinced this is what it’ll smell like.
“I finish here at 6, so I can come and get you, or you can wait for me at my place? Your choice, Cherry Baby.”
“I’ll wait for you. I was thinking I’d make us some dinner anyway, ready for when you get home.”
Home. Steve’s brain short circuits, a vision of a domestic life with a white picket fence flashing across his mind. He cups your face in his hands, pressing a kiss to your forehead.
“Sounds perfect,” he whispers.
You’re a little confused by all this sudden affection, but the last thing you’ll ever do is complain. If he wants to kiss you until you’re dizzy in the middle of this Family Video Store, then so be it.
“I should leave you to get on with stuff.”
“You could stay all day, if you wanted. We could make you wear the uniform and everything - no one would suspect a thing.”
You laugh, nudging his foot with yours.
“As tempting as that is, I have a little more shopping to do. And I have to get ingredients for later.”
You pick up your bag, swinging it over your shoulder as you look at him.
“See you later, Stevie.”
“See you later, Cherry Pie.”
You’re halfway out the door when he calls your name, head whipping around to face him.
“You’re so pretty. You know that, right?”
You look at your shoes, suddenly bashful at his boldness.
“You too, Stevie. Prettiest boy I know.”
You both go about the rest of your days floating on air, high on the giddy sweetness of it all.
✵ ✵ · ✵ * · ✵
Steve almost passes out when he unlocks his front door.
There’s candles lit and music playing softly, the kitchen alive with movement. Something smells delicious, and he can hear you humming along to a song he thinks he recognises as you chop and stir. He can picture it perfectly before he even enters the room, but the sight still knocks him off balance when he finally gets a good look at you.
“Honey, I’m home!”
You spin from your place at the stove to grin at him, petticoat trimmed apron tied around your waist to protect your dress.
“Darling! I’ve been waiting all day for you!”
You curtsy in mock greeting, which makes Steve laugh much harder than it should. He strides over and gathers you in his arms, squeezing you a little tighter than necessary.
“Steven, I saw you a few hours ago. You’re acting like you’ve just returned from war.”
“Forgive me for missing you,” he mumbles into your hair.
You sink into his embrace anyway, tangling your fingers into the back of his shirt and inhaling the familiar scent of it.
“Something smells really good.”
“It’s my famous cherry pie,” you grin, pulling back to look up at him. “Made it just for you.”
“You’re an angel,” he exclaims, spinning you around on the tiled floors. “An angel sent just for me.”
You try to ignore the way heat rises across your chest, his compliments warming your skin.
“Let me take it out of the oven, and then we’ll eat. You must be starving.”
He laughs, because you know for a fact he’s always hungry. You know everything about him. It should scare him, spook him, make him nervous. Instead he hums with the excitement of it, body alive with the anticipation of it all.
Steve changes out of his work clothes as you plate up dinner. He comes back downstairs to see you sat at the table waiting for him, all patient and pretty. He wonders momentarily what he’s done so right in life to be rewarded so greatly.
✵ ✵ · ✵ * · ✵
“So you totally brought me a romcom, right?”
Steve wants to deny it, wants to tell you that actually he stood his ground and stuck to his word. Instead, he says,
“Of course I did.”
And you laugh, all silvery and melodic, because you knew he’d cave. He can’t say no to you, even if he wanted to. You don’t use it to your advantage as often as you should. Steve wishes you did a little more.
“I’ll make popcorn if you get the video set up.”
Snacks made and movie ready, you settle in next to Steve on the couch. The two of you always follow the same routine - you sit separately, a fair distance between you, watching the movie with your hands to yourself. Then, slowly, you migrate towards each other, until you’re pressed together without an inch of space to be found.
The same thing happens tonight.
You end up being spooned by Steve, both of you laying across the couch cushions. Your back is pressed to his front, legs tangled together, his arm keeping you bracketed in to him. He’s hooked his chin over your shoulder to watch the TV, pressing kisses into the skin of your neck absentmindedly every now and again.
The film Steve picked is one you’ve seen before, but you’re not about to tell him that. Instead, your eyes slowly slip closed, the steady rhythm of the boys breathing lulling you into a sleepy haze. He traces patterns over the exposed skin of your stomach with his fingertips, chuckling slightly when you flinch as he brushes a ticklish spot.
Your hips roll back into his as you try to adjust your position, and Steve’s breath hitches in his throat. He inhales deeply, waiting for you to settle back down.
You don’t. You keep wriggling, clearly uncomfortable as you sink further into the couch cushions. Steve tries to help you, strong arm pulling you up and into him. You jut your hips once more, and he can’t help the small groan that leaves his lips.
Your eyes flutter open, adjusting to the flashing lights of the TV illuminating the room. The movie is still playing, but you know it’s almost finished. Steve’s arm is tight around your waist, his breathing heavy against your shoulder. You shift your hips to alleviate the pressure on your tangled legs when Steve sucks in a harsh breath, startling you.
He’s warm behind you. So warm. His chest is moving ragged, panting against your bare skin. His fingers grip your thigh tightly for a second, before letting it go and soothing over it.
Oh. Oh.
You’re wide awake, suddenly. Liquid heat spikes its way up your spine, all prickly and electric. You’re not sure what your next move is, but lust is clouding all five of your senses.
“Steve.”
“Cherry.”
“Steve.”
You try to say his name more firmly, but it just comes out as a whine. The sound shoots straight to Steve’s core, his hips bucking into your ass involuntarily.
“You okay?” he mumbles into your ear, grip on your thigh tightening. His fingertips dig into your skin, and you pray you’ll still be able to feel it tomorrow.
“Yeah,” you breathe, but it’s a lie. You’re not okay. You’re on fire, every nerve ending in your body alight with molten heat. You think you might be shaking with it, hoping Steve doesn’t notice.
His hand smooths up from your thigh to just under your breast, resting gently on your ribs. Your heart is fluttering like a hummingbirds wings, frantic and delicate. He can feel it through his fingertips.
“I love you, Cherry Baby.”
You lose your breath momentarily, reminding yourself how to inhale. He always does this, always catches you off guard by telling you he loves you in the moments you expect it the least. It always means more, in times like these. He could have said anything to you just then, but he chose I love you. You don’t know whether to laugh or cry or neither or both.
“I love you too,” you choke out. “So much.”
You grind your hips back into his, grinning when he groans all low and buttery. His hand glides up to cup your chest, squeezing gently as you arch into him.
“What do you want?” he asks slowly. “Tell me what you want, babe. I’ll give you anything. Need to hear you say it. Wanna hear you say the words.”
You let him ramble for a minute, trying to put your thoughts in order. You try as hard as you can, but all you can say is,
“You.”
Steve buries his nose into your hair, pressing a kiss into the space behind your ear gently.
“You’re killing me, baby.”
“Want you so badly, Steve. Please.”
The hand that’s on your chest dances down to your stomach, slipping underneath your sleep shorts. He traces his fingers over your underwear, moaning when he feels them completely soaked through.
“Shit.”
“Stevie.”
He strokes you gently, hips rutting into your back when yours jolt into his hand. Eventually, he pulls your underwear to the side, running his fingers through your wet heat before slipping two inside.
You keen instantly, back arching into him. His lips find home in the juncture between your neck and your shoulder, teeth biting down occasionally to try and stifle his desire. You move your hips in tandem with his rhythm, grinding down to try and find the right spot.
“Yeah, fuck, that’s it. Atta girl. Ride my fingers, sweetheart. Take what you need.”
His voice is like melted honey, all golden and warm. It’s making your bones turn to liquid, sinking further into the hold he still has on you with his other arm. Every inch of you is plastered to every inch of him, not a millimetre of space between you. You’ve never been so connected, both physically and emotionally. It’s like the tectonic plates are shifting, the very foundations of your lives changing right in front of your eyes.
Your chest is heaving, panting like you’ve just ran a marathon. All you can focus on is the white heat building in the pit of your stomach, volcanic and bright. When Steve crooks his fingers, you cry out, tumbling over the edge into a blind freefall with no parachute.
“That’s it, baby. Good girl.”
“You’re so good f’me. Doin’ so well.”
“Ride it out, pretty girl. Fuck.”
“Make a mess, there we go. Just like that.”
You’re not even registering his words, but you know that he’s praising you. He always is. He thinks you’re an angel, sent down from heaven to teach him what love is.
Steve ruts his hips into your back, groaning as he finishes. He can’t even find it in him to be embarrassed. The feeling of you writhing in his hold as you tightened around him was his undoing, whether he wanted it to be or not. He doesn’t mind.
You go boneless, head dropping back into his shoulder. He presses kisses onto your temple, your cheek, your neck, anywhere he can reach. You sigh in contentment, and Steve wishes he could bottle up the sound and take it like a shot of espresso every morning.
“You okay?”
You nod and then giggle, dopamine rushing through your blood. You’re almost lightheaded with it, floating on cloud nine.
“Steve?” you whisper.
“Yeah?”
You turn in his hold to finally face him, taking in the sight of his flushed cheeks and messy hair. You rest your sweaty forehead against his, panting into his mouth.
“Want it to be you.”
He pulls away slightly to get a good look at your face, eyes a little wide with shock.
“You mean…”
“Yeah. You don’t have to, if you don’t want to, but if you do, I guess I, um… there’s no one I trust more than you.”
“You know you can only lose your virginity once, baby.”
“I know. Which is exactly why it should be you.”
He grins at you, all giddy and love drunk, bumping your nose with his.
“You’re sure?”
“One hundred percent.”
Steve leans in to press his lips to yours, all slow and tender, kissing you as if you have all the time in the world.
Perhaps you do.
“Not tonight, obviously,” you murmur, chuckling under your breath. “Don’t think you could handle that.”
He scoffs, pulling back from you in disbelief.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You just came in your pants and I didn’t even touch you. Who even knows if we’ll make it to actual sex.”
Steve pinches your sides, wrapping his arms around you so you can’t escape. You laugh, trying to squirm out of his hold without luck.
“You’re gonna be eating your words, Cherry Baby.”
You shake your head, blinding smile still etched on your face.
“You know what I am gonna eat? My cherry pie. I’m starving.”
Steve groans at the thought of the dessert sitting on the counter in the kitchen. No one does a cherry pie quite like you.
“Hell yeah. Let’s do it. There’s ice cream in the freezer, too. That vanilla bean one you like.”
You peck his lips before standing up on shaky legs, wincing as you do it.
“You good?”
“I’m gonna need a new shirt. This one’s sticky.”
You look at him with a raised eyebrow and he can’t hold in his laughter, the sound of it booming around the quiet room.
“Shut the fuck up,” he jokes as he throws you over his shoulder. Despite your protests, he carries you up the stairs, smacking your ass a few times on the way for good measure.
When he puts you down, he cradles your face gently, looking into your eyes with sincerity.
“It’s me and you forever. You know that right?”
You know what he’s trying to say. I love you. You’re it for me. There never has been and never will be anyone else.
But neither of you are quite ready for those words. So instead, you say,
“I know. I’ve always known.”
And that’s enough, for now.
@psychicnerdcat @allcheesemelts @valerievortex @swiftsgirlfriend @steviespookie @betweenstarsandsatellites @mrsjoequinn @internallysalad @saucypeanuttt @empathyroad @niceskyler @spookysins @theoraekenslover @7minutes-tomidnight @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @livsters @diffrent-spokes @regular-joe-shmoe @ihatepeanutss
for some reason I didn't tag some people from part one in part two... no idea why. sorry!
#steve harrington fic#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington smut#steve harrington fluff#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington#steve harrington x reader smut#steve harrington x reader fluff#steve harrington x bestfriend!reader#bestfriend!steve harrington#bestfriend!steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x you#steve harrington x y/n#steve harrington x bestfriend reader#stranger things x reader#stranger things smut#stranger things fluff
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The Popular Vote
The livestream always happens on midnight of Saturday. There’s a hefty buy-in to be able to tune in but that never stops the audience from growing in number every stream. Every viewer has one ballot per round, each round is different. Cast your ballot before the vote ends and the majority option gets played out in real-time.
This Saturday night, I made the mistake of staying overtime at work, and I missed the last train home. Which meant walking alone on a dark path that, in the daylight, would be a breezy twenty minute stroll. But at night, it’s a different story. And clearly, since that dark trek put me in the perfect position to be taken away in a van by men who were interested in seeing me crying and screaming in pain and pleasure, at the whim of a merciless audience.
When I wake up, I’m naked and tied up, arms and legs spread out, suspended from the ceiling, with each foot on a small platform that offered enough support to take the strain off my arms and shoulders but not enough to offer any true leverage.
It takes me a few minutes to shake off the grogginess of whatever sedative they’d drugged me with, but when I do, I feel my blood run cold.
I’m surrounded by massive screens, several of which show live footage of my predicament from different angles. The screen that scares me the most is the one showing a live chat feed, with a constant barrage of messages coming in from viewers. The set-up is terrifyingly sophisticated and fear curdles my stomach in a way that makes tears well up in my eyes.
“Please! Please let me go!” I cry into the cold, unfeeling room of machinery and screens. My body struggles against the bindings but there’s no give. There’s no audible reply but I watch the chat light up with comments that make me shudder.
“I fucking love when the whores beg before we’ve even started.”
“She’s hot when she’s squirming, can’t wait to see how much she struggles tonight.”
“I wanna see her beg for mercy. Not that there will be any.”
I sob harder, tears making the chat box blurry in my vision. It doesn’t take long for me to figure out that there’s no one and nothing saving me from whatever is going to happen here.
Suddenly, a robotic voice fills the room. “Welcome to The Popular Vote. For those of you who are new to the show, please remember that each of you have a single vote to cast during every round. Vote in the allotted time and our team will implement the majority vote’s decision. Please enjoy the show.”
I gasp when the door to the room opens and four men walk in, dressed in identical black uniforms with masks covering their faces.
“Please! Please, let me go, this is a mistake!” My desperate voice fills the room but has no impact on the men, they didn’t even look in my direction, instead walking past me towards a storage cabinet behind me.
I watch through the camera’s footage as they open the cabinets and start to pull out item after item. Each one makes me more and more scared as they pull out various toys, vibrators, and other devices and machines I don’t even recognize.
There’s an electronic ding that fills the room and the same robotic voice is back. “Our first poll is beginning. Please vote now. Option 1 is subjecting our victim to clitoral stimulation by vibrator. Option 2 is vaginal penetrative stimulation by fucking machine.”
I cry out, “Wait, no, please! I don’t want this, please stop!” I watch in vain as the votes start to roll in on the screen, a feeling of helplessness overwhelming me as I watch two competing bars increase in percentage on the screen as viewers place their ballots.
There’s a robotic series of dings that sound, signaling the final few seconds of voting and through my panic, I see that the second option has pulled ahead of the first.
I choke out another sob as I watch the four men in the room start moving towards me. Two of them are rolling a machine over, a motorized piston with a massive dildo attached to the end of it. Clearly it’s meant for me.
“Please, please, no, I don’t want this, please stop!” I know it’s useless to beg but I can’t help it. My voice is shaky and thin with apprehension and I can tell it has no effect on any of the men. I glance to the chat box and the messages there make me feel even more helpless.
“That whore is going to love that machine, these little sluts always do.”
“I hope she squirts and cries when she realizes she likes this, stupid whore is going to get fucking ruined.”
In the few moments I spent reading comments, the men have rolled the fucking machine right under me and started to raise it to reach my core.
With my legs tied down and spread, there is nothing protecting me from the toy and it’s violation of me. I feel the tip of the fake cock brush my core and I thrash pointlessly, barely able to move to make a difference.
As the machine continues to rise, I feel my stomach clench when I realize that my pussy is wet. I gasp when I feel the tip of the dildo breach my core, the thickness of the toy filling me so well that I can’t help but groan. The machine continues, pushing the toy slowly and steadily filling my cunt. My back arches as I feel it rub against every part of my now-dripping cunt and I whine when it finally comes to a stop, fully seated inside of me.
I’m panting, the massive dildo splitting me open in a way that feels so fucking good. I clench around it and whimper when pleasure shoots up my spine. I glance at the livestream and see my own image, my eyes wild and body heaving from the pleasure of just having the toy inside of me. The chat box is flooded with comments about me, the way I look, the sounds I make, and the anticipation of what is to come.
Suddenly, one of the men in the room toggles a switch on the machine, and it begins.
My scream is drawn-out and wanton in response to the indescribable pleasure that floods my every sense. The men set the machine at a relentless pace, the huge cock driving into my cunt ruthlessly at a pace that is virtually inhuman.
I’m lost in the sensation of every single thrust sliding against my g-spot and slamming into my cervix, the perfect blend of pain and pleasure. I can feel my body trembling at the onslaught of raw, unadulterated pleasure and the sounds that the machine is pulling from my lips could make a pornstar blush. I can feel the creeping warmth of an orgasm fast approaching as the machine fucks me into submission.
Suddenly, an electronic ding sounds. The robotic voice comes on again, with an announcement that barely registers in my pleasure-scrambled brain. “Please vote to determine the next step. Option 1 subjects our victim to forced orgasms, option 2 is edging and orgasm denial, and option 3 is ruined orgasms.”
I whine and plead but I don’t even know what I’m begging for. My eyes are too unfocused to see the progression of the vote, and of the options, I can’t even begin to fathom which would be the best. I hear the three dings that signal the vote has ended and I force my eyes to focus on the screen, my stomach clenching when I see the result: ruined orgasms.
The machine hasn’t relented on its motions, each thrust driving into my wet cunt in a way that is so perfectly and achingly torturous. My clit is throbbing and part of me wishes I could grind it against something, anything to give me a little more stimulation to push me over the edge. But there’s nothing beyond the machine forcing its cock deep inside of me, making me ride the wave of pleasure that pushes me towards to precipice of a massive orgasm. I feel my entire body tense in response to the impending onslaught of pleasure and my pussy clenches around the dildo splitting me open.
Two more hard thrusts pushes me over the edge and I let out a moaning scream as I feel the tension snap and my body clenches in burning pleasure. A seemingly endless wave of overwhelming and uncontrollable pleasure slams into me as my orgasm erupts. At that exact moment, the toy inside of me a delivers a horrible jolt of electricity, one that slams through my cunt and cruelly and abruptly yanks my body away from pleasure.
The pain takes my breath away but my body reacts more to my ruined orgasm than it does the shock. My moan turns into a wail as useless pleas pour out of my mouth, tears running down my cheeks as I feel the toy continue to fuck me through the disappointment of an orgasm it forced upon me. There’s a cruel emptiness inside of me despite the unrelenting fake cock that fills me with every thrust and a gut-wrenching, unfulfilling hunger that overtakes the pleasure that was horribly ripped away from me.
“Ah, fuck, please, please make it stop!” My voice is ragged and desperate as I plead for mercy from an uncaring audience. The men in the room are maintaining their cold indifference towards my suffering as the machine under their control continues to batter my body.
I feel my body shudder in overstimulation as the merciless machine pushes me closer to another orgasm. There’s no break or respite and my pleas fall onto deaf ears.
And as before, just as I feel my orgasm approaching, the feverish pleasure barely rises within me before it’s ripped away, ruined by the delivery of a shocking pain through my pussy that makes me scream in anguish.
The next time it happens, I hear myself wail out desperate cries and pleas that are met with silence. The time after that, my body jerks pitifully in the bindings as every muscle tenses in grief. The one following is the strongest one yet, the constant buildup and denial pushing my body to the brink of tortured pleasure. As the achingly sweet orgasm barrels through me, my pussy clenches down and gushes with my release. I can feel my own juices flowing down my legs, but my squirting orgasm isn’t any different than the previous cruelly ruined ones. The impeccably-timed electric shock yanks my body back from what would have been a mind-shattering, toe-curling sensation and leaves me feeling hollow and helpless.
After that, I stop keeping track of the ruined orgasms. My body should have been shuddering from the overstimulation of countless orgasms but instead, it aches with a voracious, unfulfillable ache that creates an unbearable cycle of horrible, desperate need barely satisfied with every orgasm until it’s torn away. The predictability of it does nothing to assuage the torment, it only makes it worse, to have every beautiful moment of pleasure marred by the inevitable loss that I can do nothing about.
An electronic ding breaks through the haze, another round. The machine beneath me pauses and I choke back a sob at the temporary relief, desperately try to focus on the words that are being announced.
“Our next round will be introducing pharmacological enhancements and orgasm denial. Please select to determine which of the following will be administered to our victim. Option 1 is administration of our proprietary aphrodisiac with no excess stimulation. Option 2 is administration of our proprietary numbing treatment with clitoral stimulation by vibrator.”
My mind wraps around the meaning behind the announcement and I feel myself tremble with desperation. I want nothing more than to cum, just to feel the full, body-shaking, mind-numbing torrent of pleasure that will flood me when a full, uninterrupted orgasm washes over me. But it’s clear that they have other plans.
I watch as the votes roll in, my heart pounding as the two options are very evenly matched in popularity. I brave a glance at the chat box and whimper when I see the comments.
“I fucking love driving a whore insane with denial. I wonder what kind of promises she’ll make to try and convince us to let her cum.”
“If she were mine, I’d never let her cum again. Sluts don’t deserve orgasms.”
Three dings break my concentration and I swing my gaze over to see the results. Option 2 has won out, but barely. I whimper softly as the four men immediately begin to set up. I watch as they wheel the fucking machine out from under me. A blush stains my cheeks when I see the dildo dripping in slick, evidence of my countless ruined orgasms.
I watch through heavy lidded eyes as one of the men reached for a small container. He deftly opens it and dips a gloved finger in, his finger coming out coated in a creamy ointment.
I watch as he comes towards me, his ointment-covered fingers coming to meet my clit in a soft motion that makes me cry out. He is thorough as he rubs the ointment onto my clit, his fingers gently moving against me, offering a delicious friction that pushes me closer towards another orgasm.
The curling warmth of an oncoming rush builds in my core but before I could fully embrace the pleasure, he pulls away and I choke out a whine. “No please, please I’m so close,” my voice is so broken to my own ears but not enough to sway the man.
They wheel out a different machine, this one shaped like a saddle, lined with ridges that line up perfectly to vibrate against and wreak havoc on my sensitive clit. It doesn’t take long for the men to position the machine underneath me. I feel the cold material of the machine against my burning hot pussy and without even thinking about it, I start to grind myself against it. A broken moan leaves my lips at the pleasure that fills me and I whine softly, trying harder to move myself to rub my throbbing clit against the machine that was very quickly starting to dampen from my dripping cunt.
I know without looking at my own image on the livestream that I made for a shameful display of wanton lust and desperation but I couldn’t bring myself to care. My hips move desperately, the bindings making it so that my movements were limited but not impossible. My eyes drift shut as I chase the pleasure, continuing to grind against the machine.
I can feel myself approaching my orgasm, a few more moments and I could almost taste the sweet pleasure. But something was wrong. Even as I rolled my hips against the machine, I could feel sensation fading in between my legs. My clit throbs and aches but the feeling of the ridges against me has become muted, and no matter how hard I grind myself against the machine, the result was the same and I’m faced with the reality that the orgasm I was chasing so closely is too far out of reach now.
I cry out, begging into the void, “Please, no, please! Make it come back, please! I need to cum, I need it!”
My begs are met with silence and I glance towards the chat box, hoping to see something, anything, that would bring me relief. But there’s nothing but cruel, taunting comments.
“Dumb fucking whore doesn’t even understand what’s happening to her stupid body.”
“They haven’t even turned on the machine yet and she’s crying. I love when sluts realize that there’s nothing they can do against the numbing cream.”
“Her clit is so fucking swollen, I hope she doesn’t get a good orgasm at all tonight.”
Suddenly, the machine beneath me roars to life. I gasp when I feel the vibrations course through my body, the harsh motion batters my clit, but instead of being overwhelmed with pleasure, all I can feel is a vague sensation. I sob when the real understanding of what is happening sinks in. The numbing cream they used on me has left me completely unable to feel the machine. I can feel my pussy clenching in need, dripping over the machine uselessly, unable to enjoy any of it. There are wordless whines and begs erupting from my lips as I chase an unreachable end. I beg because there’s nothing else I can do, and because I know that’s what the audience wants to see.
As my mind wraps around this knowledge, I feel broken. My pussy clenches at the understanding that I’m here purely for other people’s entertainment. My suffering is for their enjoyment, and every orgasm ruined, denied, or forced out of my helpless body is done so without any regard to me or my pleasure. I stare into the camera as the machine underneath me batters my clit in a way that should be making me scream. Despite that realization, or maybe because of that realization, my cunt is leaking and clenching and throbbing. My entire being has narrowed to my clit and my cunt, the ghost sensations of pleasure brushing against my psyche.
My mind is fracturing under the torment of nothing. It tries to rationalize, to make feeling where there is none, and if I really focus, I can fool myself into believing that my clit isn’t numb, isn’t blind to the torturous machine that should be pulling orgasm after orgasm out of me. I don’t know how long I’m suspended in nothingness, how long I’m held in this punishing situation of unreachable pleasure.
Three dings pull me out of my mindless misery. My eyes jump to the screen, seeing the chat light up with excited comments about what’s the come. The robotic voice fills the room.
“We reach the end of our night together and our final poll, please vote now. Option 1 allows our victim to be subjected to forced orgasms after we administer the antidote to the numbing cream in combination with targeted electrostimulation while option 2 involves continued denial with impact play and flogging.”
I can’t stop myself from screaming into the room. “Please! Please, fuck, please let me cum! Please!”
I writhe and renew my struggling, starting to futilely grind myself against the vibrator, hoping that the vote will go in my favor. My eyes glance towards to chat box, my heart pounding in anticipation as I read the flood of messages, hoping desperately for mercy.
“I don’t think this fucking whore deserves to cum tonight, I’d rather see her get her tits whipped.”
“I want to see her pass out from being forced to cum over and over again. Plus I wanna see her tight little body shake with electricity.”
My eyes flit to the results of the poll and my heart leaps when I realize option 1 is pulling ahead. Three dings confirm the results of the vote and immediately, I see one of the men approach me with the antidote.
I sob when his fingers brush this new ointment over my swollen clit and all I can do is babble out whines of gratitude. It doesn’t take long for the antidote to take effect as the vibration of the toy begins to wreck me.
There’s no slow, soft build of pleasure. There’s only pure, bone-shattering sensation that slams into me. It tears my breath away and my body erupts in orgasm. The countless denied and ruined orgasms from the beginning of the night seem to have compounded into one horrible explosion of pleasure that rips through me.
I have no sense of the world around me, my entire being has narrowed to the overwhelming wave of sensation. My cunt pulses, spraying my release over the machine that offers me no respite as it forces my body to unimaginable heights.
Suddenly, a sharp jolt of pain along my side breaks into my haze. My eyes dart over and I see the four men crowded around me, each holding an electric wand that pulses a harsh zap through me at every touch.
“No! Please! Stop!” I scream, my voice pitching higher as the men start their torment. Quick jabs around the soft skin of my stomach, hips, thighs, and arms make me scream and thrash but none of that dulls any of the feeling from the vibrator between my legs.
The pain and pleasure rocks through my body and mind, both blending together in a cruel medley that draws wordless screams from my throat. Another orgasm slams through me right as I feel a terrible zap on my nipple. The scream that bursts out of me makes my own ears ache. My psyche is cracking under the onslaught of torment and there’s not a single part of my body that isn’t screaming in overstimulation. I’m nothing more than a collection of raw nerves and throbbing muscles.
The next zap hits the exposed part of my clit and my ears ring as my vision fades to black. That’s the last thing I remember from that night.
When I wake up the next morning, I’m home, in my own bed, my body achingly sore and exhausted. I glance to my bedside table and I see an envelope. In it is a USB and a note with a phone number.
“Enjoy the footage, we certainly did. Call us if you want a repeat.”
I crawl out of bed to grab my laptop and phone, and I save the number to my contacts.
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Author's Note: I think this is my longest story yet and hope y'all enjoy! Also, I like to imagine this happens in the same universe as Pay to Play, and I'm jealous because I want to live in that universe ;)
#nsft concept#overstim kink#cl1t torture#dark fantasy#mind break#rap3 fantasy#edging kink#kidnap fantasy
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drabble: riding wriothesley while he can’t touch you. no cuz shut uppp, he wouldn’t be the complete broken mess like everyone else would be. he’d be begging to touch you, to help you feel good. wriothesley 100% falls on the service spectrum.
wriothesley’s reeling, groggy and confused from what he assumes to be a late night—who can really tell from within the fortress of meropide? his vision is slightly blurry, just about able to see you sitting prettily on his desk. a tired smile covers as his face as he takes in the sight: you’re naked, legs crossed and arms perched behind you to support your weight.
he’s only tired, the countless amount of paperwork sprawled and scattered about his desk, the very papers that you’re sitting on. his pens are next to you, still clicked open. as he was finishing up only the last few bits of his previous document, you strode on in up the stairs, a playful tint in your voice as you called out to him.
“your grace?” the smirk was evident in your voice, and wriothesley couldn’t hold himself back.
now, here he is, handcuffed to his own chair by his very own handcuffs. you’re riding him, earnestly and pouring those sweet and intoxicating sounds down his ears. he’s moaning against your neck, wrists jolting every time your pussy engulfs his cock whole. he’s almost pussy drunk, yet still mindful enough to want you, to want to feel you.
“sweetheart, c’mon, spare me a little,” he moans through an exasperated sigh. he feels as if you’re sucking his soul out of his own body, the pleasure in his cock causing him to spiral.
“let me feel you, yeah? let me touch you, wanna feel you.” he almost begs, a still sort of stableness in his voice. his fingers are twitching, wanting to break free of his handcuffs and be able to touch you as you ride him.
“oh? perhaps your grace isn’t that sensitive today as i thought? let’s do something about that,” you purr in a way that sends wriothesley near his breaking point. little does he know, you’re an evil one.
a choked moan bubbles past his throat, breath hitching once you take him even deeper than before, fastening your pace. he curses under his breath, head dropping down to your shoulder. his mouth is hot against your skin, pants and moans sourcing all from poor wriothesley. you’re so evil to him, riding him like this, depriving him of the ability to touch you. he can only watch as you bounce and grind against his cock, tits bouncing every time you lift yourself off him.
“i’m gonna cum, wrio, will you cum for me too?”
as if he wasn’t already shaking, almost on the edge of trying to rip his arms out of those godforsaken handcuffs. his legs shake as he orgasms, hips jolting up and trying desperately to fuck up into you. he can only hear the sound of your giggles as he comes down from his high.
#genshin impact#genshin impact x reader#genshin impact smut#smut#wriothesley#wriothesley smut#wriothesley x reader
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his girl | ii. envy me
earth 42!miles morales x fem!reader | miles morales x fem!reader
word count: 2.1k
genre: angst to fluff
warnings: language, insults, spoilers, probably bad spanish, 42 Miles and reader get into a little spat, stubborn 42 Miles, violent 42 Miles, Miles and Miles almost fight twice
a/n: teehee and so it begins 🤭 didn’t expect this to turn into a whole series but i’m not mad. i hope y’all enjoy the storyline i thought up and please, by all means, give me your input! thank you all for the support 🖤 enjoy :)
previous chapter: i. his girl
now reading: ii. envy me
next chapter: iii. all the riches
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Miles, in fact, did not run. He was too taken aback to do anything, even though his body was screaming at him too. And he was too focused on your confused face. You looked exactly like his (Y/n), and it made his heart ache. And that is how other Miles was able to knock him out so fast. And why he just woke up in his Uncle Aaron’s apartment, chained to the punching bag, just like he did to Peter after first meeting him. He hears his uncle's music blaring from his record player. He looks in the direction it’s coming from. His eyes widen as he sees his Uncle Aaron. He’s alive. “Uncle Aaron?”
“Not your tío,” 42 Miles says, and Miles glares at him. “I’m just tryna go home, bro. Why are you doing this? What are you getting from this?”
“You said you’re from a different dimension?”
“Yeah. And?” Miles asks, narrowing his eyes at him. “Why are you here?”
“I told you I was sent here by mistake! I just wanna get back to my world, man. Dad’ll die,” he says, exasperated, and Miles stares at him with a blank expression. “Your dad alive?”
“Yeah, of course, he is,” Miles says, and 42 Miles frowns slightly. “Oh.”
Miles normally would be able to piece together what the disappointment in his voice would mean. But he's a little preoccupied with multiple other thoughts currently to necessarily care to psychoanalyze his own behaviors. He also doesn’t have the chance to see Aaron’s face drop and see the sadness in his eyes. Or the way you immediately look at your Miles to make sure the news didn’t break him. “But he’s gonna die if you keep me here,” Miles explains, and 42 Miles nods. “Yeah. Well, you ain’t leaving.”
“…Please. You have to let me go,” Miles pleads. But 42 Miles just stares at him, unmoved. “Why would I do that?” he asks, placing his gauntlet next to Miles’ head. Miles frowns, placing his finger on the piece of metal linking the chains together, ready to electrocute it and make his escape. The other him stares at him with an unreadable expression, seemingly no emotion behind his eyes, and just as it feels like shit is about to go down, he hears your voice ring out. “Miles. Just let him go.” Both your Miles and 1610 Miles turn their heads to you. It’s the first time 1610 Miles noticed you were in here. “(Y/n)? Bro, why are you letting her around your business?” Miles asks, and 42 Miles shoots a venomous look at him. “She insisted on coming. This is her first time around this shit,” Miles hisses at him. 1610 Miles can’t help but feel a tightening in his chest. He wants nothing more than for you from his world to be here with him. Not even in a romantic way, at least that’s what he’s trying to convince himself. He just misses you. He chased you away, and now he doesn’t even know if he’ll be able to fix it. His thoughts are interrupted when you clear your throat. Both of the boys look back in your direction. You’re on Aaron’s couch, staring at your Miles with such intensity it makes even 1610 Miles lock up. He can only imagine what it’s like being the one on the receiving end of that look. He sees other Miles’ eyes soften in his peripheral vision as he removes his fist from beside Miles’ head. “Mi amor…”
“No. Let him go, there’s no point in keeping him here,” you say, and 42 Miles frowns. “Not one to let people go, (Y/n). You know that.”
“I don’t give a fuck, Morales.”
“Damn, ma! Not even callin’ me Miles now?” Miles asks, an edge to his voice. You frown. “No. Not right now. Let him go, and we’ll see.”
“Why you want me to let him go? Got a crush on him or something?” Miles asks, and you raise your eyebrow. You glance at Miles, then back to your Miles. “Technically, yeah. I do. Unless you’d prefer I break up with both of you right now,” you say back, your voice just as cold as your boyfriend’s. “You tellin’ me you’d rather have this guy? Sayin’ this guy is like me? Estás de broma…” he mutters, and Miles looks between the two of you. “Not to piss you off more, but this guy is still technically you,” Miles says, and 42 Miles glares at him. “Cállate. No one was talking to you.”
“Man, why do you hate me so much?! I’m you!” Miles says, exasperated. He just doesn’t understand why this version of him is so hostile to him. They’re basically the same! Except Miles is a superhero and other Miles is a supervillain, but they still both have super in the title so how different can they really be? “Is this a call for help or–”
Miles gets cut off but 42 Miles punching the punching bag, right by Miles’ head. Enough force is exuded that the sand from the bag flies out, starting to pour down the side of it. His eyes widen, and you gasp. Even Aaron reacts a bit to it. But maybe it’s just because someone who looks exactly like his nephew is on the receiving end of it this time. This time. “Miles!” you yell, standing up. “What?!”
“What do you think you’re doing?!”
“What I gotta do! You don’t get it, (Y/n)! This is the job!” Miles yells, and you roll your eyes. “Oh, please, Miles. This is the job? He’s you! Wouldn’t you be trying to get home if you knew you could save your dad?!” you yell, and he glares at you. “(Y/n). Don’t.”
“You know you would be,” you walk over to him, placing your hands on his cheeks. He subconsciously relaxes, but only slightly. You sigh. “You don’t have to be such a hardass all the time, amor,” you mumble, and he shakes his head. “No comprendes, amor… I have to be this way. Or else— “
“Miles, he’s not a part of the cartel. He’s not gonna tell anyone here that you let him go… he’s not even from here. It’s okay for you to think with your heart instead of your head just this once,” you say, and he huffs. “Nah. I stopped thinkin’ with my heart a long time ago,” he says, and a hurt expression crosses your face. “Then what am I? A calculated move for you to use as an adavantage when you need it?” you ask, venom in your words. “No, (Y/n), don’t be estúpida. You’re mi vida, but him? How I know he ain’t just some experiment they made? To get to me?” Miles asks, looking at you with a skeptical look. You sigh. “Dude! I don’t even know what you’re talking about! I have spider powers, is that a thing anyone else here has?!”
“No.”
“Exactly! Why would whoever you’re talking about make a carbon copy of you with enhanced biology just to use me for this?!” Miles asks, and you shrug. “He’s got a point, Miles,” you say, and 42 Miles looks at you again. “Thank you, (Y/n),” 1610 Miles says, and 42 Miles rolls his eyes. “(Y/n) you have to understand that I can’t take no chances. You know that the cartel will go after—”
“I know. I know, Miles, but I really don’t think that—”
“You don’t know that (Y/n). You don’t know them like I do,” Miles says, and you sigh. “Miles. Mi amor. Mi vida. Mi sol, listen to me. If he wanted you dead, he would have done it by now,” you try to get through to him. He glances back at Miles, and Miles can literally see the distrust and paranoia in his expression.
He must have been through so much shit. This is a world with no Spider-Man after all. And all this mention of a cartel? No wonder Miles turned to the Prowler. It’s similar to Aaron in his world, he thinks. He thought that he had nowhere else to turn, so he turned to crime. But deep down, he can’t be that bad. Right…?
“Amor, I need to be cautious. I just have to ask him some questions before… letting him go,” he mumbles, glancing at Aaron. Aaron nods. 1610 Miles gets the feeling they’re not planning on letting him go. You must get that feeling too, because you shake your head, pulling your hands away from Miles’ face. “I can’t believe you right now,” you say, and he frowns. “(Y/n), please just try to understand—”
“No, Miles! I’m done trying to understand you when you never try to understand me!” you yell, and he clenches his jaw. “What do you mean by that, huh?” he asks, and you scoff. “I just. I need to leave. Before I do something I regret.”
“Like what, huh? Break up with me? Fight with me? Actually understand where I’m coming from for once?” Aaron cringes at that. You’re probably the most understanding person in his life other than him. That wasn’t the right choice of words. And you let him know it. “FOR ONCE?! Miles! Oh my god! Are you serious right now?! How many times have you tried to understand me?! I lost people too, you know! And I’m not out here—”
“Do you think I want to do this, (Y/n)?! Be fuckin’ for rea! I do this for you!” he yells back, and you shake your head, frustrated to the point of tears. “I never asked you to do this!”
“You didn’t need to because I love you enough to want to without you asking me to! You need it, Mamá needs it, everyone needs it, and I can provide it for all of you!” You angrily wipe a tear away, trying desperately to keep the rest of them contained. Miles softens. “Amor, no necesitas llorar—”
“Stop, Miles. Just… just stop. I need some air, don’t follow me,” you turn, hurrying to Aaron’s door. Miles steps forward to go after you, but Aaron puts a hand on his shoulder, shaking his head. “Nah, man. Give her some space. She’ll come around,” Aaron says, and Miles clenches his fists. As soon as he sees you slip out of the door, closing it behind you, he turns to Miles. “This is your fault,” he says, pointing at him. “Miles,” Aaron says, crossing his arms. While he is also weary of this new Miles, his Miles isn’t thinking rationally right now. Then again, he is only 15. That’s why Aaron is here, sometimes he needs some assistance. “Why you lookin’ at me like that?” Aaron asks the other Miles. Miles hadn’t even realized he’d been staring. He shakes his head. “Nothing… nothing. Just… good to see you. Haven’t in a while,” he mumbles, and Aaron raises his eyebrow. That could mean a few things. Best not to dwell on it, though.
“Who are you, really?” 42 Miles asks, and 1610 Miles groans. “I’m you, dude! Why is that so hard to understand?! I’m not a part of a cartel or anything I just want to get home!” Miles is frustrated. Seeing the world they live in from Aaron’s window, he gets why Miles is so… paranoid. But honestly, how long can he keep this uncertainty up? “Explain how you got here. And don’t just say ‘by mistake,’ alright?” Miles says, showing the claws on his gauntlets. Miles rolls his eyes. “I’m Spider-Man, right? And there’s tons of different Spider-Mans… men? Not important, there’s other me’s! And Spider-Women, Spider-People in a bunch of different dimensions, one of them, Miguel, figured out how to travel dimensions and we all met each other… except I wasn’t supposed to meet them because the spider that made me Spider-Man actually came from this world so someone here was supposed to get bit and I wasn't supposed to exist like this, but—”
“Wait… you sayin’ my world ain’t supposed to be like this…?” Miles asks, and Miles nods. “Yes. The people at Alchemax on my world built a collider and had the spider come to my world and it got out and—”
“You’re the reason for this?” Miles looks at himself, who is not even angrier. “I… n-no, but yes, I—” Miles gets cut off by a gauntlet getting placed way too close to his head again. What he doesn’t know is 42 Miles just put together everything in his head. This Miles was Spider-Man. And his dad was still alive because of it. If that were the case for him, maybe his dad wouldn’t have died. Maybe he wouldn’t have been like this.
He could have had everything that was taken from him.
“That’s enough talking, cabrón,” he growls, ready to escalate things yet again. Miles gets ready to break out of his restraints again, and Aaron gets ready to help Miles out. Then, over the music, they hear a scream.
A scream that undoubtedly belongs to you.
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Get me out of here - Lewis Hamilton
Part 2 - Let's get out of here
Request: "I enjoy reading your posts so much, I wanted to maybe request? I love angst, maybe a Lewis one shot where the reader gets in the cross fire in the media kind of like Kate Middleton but with the Ferrari news?" - anon
pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader!
warnings: Angst, Lewis to Ferrari, Toto being an ass.
wordcount: +1k
a/n: Hi anon, thank you for the request and the support, it means the world! I loved writing that, but then again I love me some angsty, hope you like it ❤️.
As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!
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“You bastard, how could you?”
You entered the farm style house in the English countryside seeing red. Newspaper on hand and phone on the other, blazing through the formal reception rooms until you found Toto and Lewis talking in the sunroom at the back.
“Woah there, what’s that language?”
“I thought I could trust you Toto” Your voice coming out stronger and louder than even you expected, facing him to see it in his eyes he knew exactly what all this was about. You couldn’t help but whisper, almost to yourself “Gosh, I really did.”
“What’s going on? Why are you shouting?” Lewis interjected as he got up and headed towards you, his arms reaching for your waist to try and calm you down
“Ask him! I’m not the one who gave the damn interview.”
“I didn’t say it like that, you know how they twist our words” The Austrian reasoned as you paced in the room
“Enough you two. What the hell is going on?” Susie emerged from the adjoining room, still in her workout clothes, towel in hand.
You threw the paper on the desk in front of them, eyeing Toto as Lewis read the headline “Source of Ferrari’s leak: Toto’s former right-hand and Lewis’ girl”
“You thought I wouldn’t see it? That I wouldn’t know that you told the press I leaked about Ferrari ?!” Exasperation written in your eyes as you tried to understand why would Toto sell you out like that.
“C’mom, it’ll blow over. By Barhein no one will even remember” His german accent echoed through the room as he tried to impose himself
“You tried to throw me under the bus for someone you’re clearly trying to cover for, that’s the issue here”
“Who sold the story to the press, Toto?” This time it was Lewis’ voice that cut the air, his tone stern and demanding.
“Does it even matter? He clearly has more respect for whoever it was than he does for me.” Your voice full of disdain throwing Toto off as he looked at you with surprise in his eyes at the tone you were using.
“Don’t be like that.” Susie pleaded from the corner, still as confused as Lewis to the events unfolding.
“Why?! Does it hurt him? I can guarantee it doesn’t hurt as much as it did when I read that stupid interview” Your voice coming out in sharp pufs as you tried to hold back the tears that fought hard to fall.
“Toto, who told the press?” Lewis pressed him once again and you were about to blow out at him when you heard the Austrian confessing “I told them.”
Your head starting spinning and all you could do was march back to the car in the driveway, not really listening to anything they were trying to get through to you. You started the car while Lewis tried to talk you out of driving, his pleading shouts heard through the glazed windows.
Your sobs came out all at once when Lewis managed to get into the passenger seat and hold your trembling hands down, getting them away from the steering wheel and into his chest for you to feel his heartbeat, your frantic eyes finally finding his soothing ones.
“Get me out of here, please” was all you could whisper mid sobs, sliding to the other seat when Lewis jumped out to get to the other side, your peripheral vision catching a glimpse of the commotion in the doorsteps of the house, with Toto exasperatedly motion to a now infuriating Susie and a few other people.
It felt like hours before Lewis pulled over, a small countryside village in the distance and a herd of sheep around. One of his hands gripped the leather of the seat, his free hand smoothing your arm and his stare focused on the road ahead.
“He did it to protect the brand. They’re gonna have a whole year to bring George forward, to switch things around…”
“Why are you defending him?” You cut him mid-sentence; your voice toneless although your eyes showed your emotions were all over the place.
“Because we need to think this through, babe. Toto’s not one of us anymore, you saw it.” He turned to you, clutching your hand into his, breathing in before continuing.
“We can’t expect anything from him anymore, least of all you.” His stare pierced yours and you knew what he meant.
You and Toto had known each other for as long as Lewis had. You had made your way up from being just an intern all the way to actually being poached by AMG and then Daimler, the whole path closely followed by Toto’s advices, and even in the years you lived in Germany the F1 GPs were always a familiar home you got to come back to, because of Lewis and Toto.
“Why did he say it was me though?” You questioned after getting out of the car and sitting by a rock fence, your voice small, much like how you felt while you leaned into Lewis’ embrace.
“To get back at me, maybe?! I really don’t know.” He breathed out after a while, leaving a kiss on your head before looking out at the fields in front of you two. It was a typical English day, cold and humid but at least the sun tried to fight its way through the clouds.
“I’m sorry he made you feel like you had to leave” you looked up at him as you brought up the subject, it was still a sore one for him.
“I always thought I’d finish my career there” He didn’t look at you as he mumbled his response, his gaze lost to the horizon
“It’s going to be a long year, isn’t it?!” You thought out loud after a while of silence and just feeling each other’s breathing.
“Yeah… and I need you there, by my side, head held high” This time he turned to look at you, loving doe stare embracing you in his warmth, no idea what the future holds but sure he will be there.
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#lewis hamilton x reader#lewis hamilton x you#lewis hamilton imagine#f1 x reader#lewis hamilton#f1 imagine
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Synastry observations based on (personal) experience, part 5:
I’m back!!!! After months lmao
Moon opposite mars: a big ‘want’. Moon opposite mars is a story. It’s every romance movie/ romcom aspect, and i’ll tell you why. These people see in each other the potential of moon conjunct mars fullfillment that’s actually (way, but opinions differ ofc) better than the conjunction. That’s because in the opposition, each has something the other lacks. This can create for both people the ultimate romantic fullfilment when brought together by effort and acceptance of each other, and this promise is very hard to let go of. Typically, these are couples that fight a lot but find it very hard to let each other go once they know what they can have with each other, because it really is the best. Just think about it, even the thought of people putting conscious effort to be sweeter to one another is precious. That only creates a bond that’s very raw and very real (quoting jewelastrology here). Then combine that with the power of the mars and the moon and the friction of the opposition, keeping things interesting and keeping both parties learning more. You shouldn’t romanticise struggle in a relationship. Too much ‘work’ can just mean you aren’t compatible. THIS aspect is an exception. Just watch out for possible aggression. That’s never okay. One day I’ll make a seperate post about the amount of moon opposite mars couples in literature. The best I can think of now is Pride and Prejudice, with Mr Darcy being mars and Elizabeth Bennet being moon.
Venus twelfth house overlay: sorry y’all, in my personal experience, it’s true what they say. The twelfth house person has a hard time feeling this overlay on their side, or on a very subconscious level. I was the 12th house person. On one hand, I really ‘got it’ so to say but on the other hand, I don’t have a shitty clue of how he picked up on this ‘thing between us’ he thought or picked up on we had. That’s actually the big thing about this overlay. Don’t lose all hope, but you’ll have one person going “you knoww like there’s this thing between us...” and the 12th house person will be going: “what thing?” 😂 this can actually be nice because the 12th house person will get in touch with that subconscious twelfth housey part of themselves IF there are other nicely supporting aspects. Like the venus person’s venus to other stuff. They say a true connection is always mutual. I want to say to you all that don’t be surprised when a 12th house person in such an overlay is not ‘feeling’ this mutually. I literally wrote in my diary: “i might actually like him when it’s too late. Or just never lol i do not know.”
Update: I wrote this observation months ago in like april. It is now october and I’m starting to gain interest in him, albeit slowly and subconsciously, but, yeah 🤦♀️😂 i came back to this draft being like “WHATT?? Astrology had predicted this TOO for me???”
Moon trine pluto: you know when the fighting super intense troubled couple FINALLY gets together in this really intense and satisfying time when things are finally going the way they’re planned? Like an end all all good? That is this overlay, but constantly. On the outside, it’s the annoyingly passionate/emotional couple in a series that you don’t get because you haven’t seen them do any work to deserve this kind of intense fan-service scene. It’s because it lacked that kind of character development? It was me watching avengers infinity war with vision and wanda. I didn’t like the couple because i didn’t get it. I didn’t know their history i thought it was just some random very bland peaceful couple being very dramatic about each other all the time. Another example (i’m not shitting on this aspect i swear 😂) when a cartoon shows an example of a ‘romantic movie scene’ where the couple says “i loove you!!” And the other goes “oh bill!!” You don’t swoon because you’re like… okay. You get the oogies/ick because it’s like ‘ew that’s a couple’ anyways what I’m trying to say is that moon and pluto are not typical besties they’re supposed to be two problems kind of, they’re two very intense and bare planets, so harmonious flowing energy between them will feel kind of unsettling? Even. So these people will be kind of ‘gross’ with each other but in a soothing way. It’s how you imagine such a trine to be, but it plays out exactly like this irl too lmao! It feels bland on the outside because it’s always going well. And on the inside it plays in the background, because issues bring moon and pluto stuff to the foreground as a ‘theme’ in the relationship. So this aspect is also is the simple idea-of-a-passionate relationship. It’s the groaning “I’ll never let you go!!” Which doesn’t hit the same way for some people because there isn’t any drama or shit that happened before to deserve this pay off. However, some people loooove this aspect and by that I mean people in real life who like to have a secure and deep relationship where two hidden parts of people correspond and love each other well. This aspect is reaallly hard to let go of lol.
Sun conjunct mars: I call this the ‘spicy friends’ aspect. This is the aspect of two people who get into shenanigans together. I also see this aspect a lot with romantic couples who got together young, because it makes for boy-girl relations where the boy actually gets motivated by the person the girl is and the girl feels understood on the same level by the boy. They don’t get bored and so these people will forever get on or be aggravated by each other. It’s because these are two extremely conscious ‘in the moment’ planets so they easily fire off each other and it doesn’t take a lot of energy to have that interaction. Not in the plutonically karmic way, but in a personal way I currently cannot describe. No in between. It creates a bond that people can’t really get in between. You just have to let them stay friends/buds until they get sick of each other, and they may even repeat the process after that. Either way, this is an aspect that makes people get together fast ! Their conscious behaviour is accelerated by each other.
Sun conjunct venus: unlike mars, venus is a cold planet, which is totally okay in a synastry, only the interaction plays out a little different. Sun and venus don’t fire off each other. Their influence on each other is more passive and more ‘mental’. The sun, how basic it may sound, warms venus or even makes them burn. Venus gives the sun person chills. The venus person is responsible for the harmony and awesome functionality that this aspect brings. They will take a step back to fully adore and admire sun from afar sometimes. The sun will run to venus basically when it needs love and beauty and also a kind of sensibility that the sun person misses, like a puzzle piece. Sun brings heat and passion that the venus craves. These people will often crave for how the other person makes them feel. Venus typically loves every little thing the sun person does and the sun person is just taken by the venus person every single day. Think Oliver (venus) and Loretta (sun) from Only Murders In The Building. This aspect makes for real contentment in a relationship.
Mars in twelfth house synastry or composite: with this placement, you’re not even sure if the person is actually even attracted to you and if you’re making it all up in your head. This is also typically seen as a ‘synastry/composite of secrets’ which I wasn’t so sure about at the time I experienced this one myself, but now I realise, hey, that man actually had a girlfriend while he was giving me ‘special attention’ while holding back, with me being like ‘what could he mean what could he MEAN’ typical mars in twelfth scenario. One guy I had this with in composite was basically lying to me about his sex life and not having cheated on his previous girlfriend… and guess what… I had lied about my sexual history too 😭 I even thought to myself ‘why the f*ck did I lie that elaborately??? I didn’t even have to??’ But whatever, it’s the way of the worlds apparently 😂 but you see how this immediately creates distrust when it is not actually what we mean to do or coming from a place of disrespect. Oh and this aspect in composite also created months of us being like ‘🧍🏻♀️….🧍🏻♂️’ not normal sexual tension, but sexual tension we weren’t sure should be concreticised out loud or in action. We’d only kissed once Monthsss before which is basically nothing in western european student culture. It was like: “does this person know I’m still, in this moment, attracted to/like him/her? Am I making this all up in my head?”
Moon in the 8th house: a lot has been said about this aspect. Just a few things: intensity, yes. Either one will always be a significant person for the rest the person’s lives. It’s not nothing. It’s the basis of real all consuming love that’s a very rare and unique mix between total safety and total rush-like danger, which makes people think it’s a soulmate aspect. It’s actually not, imo, it’s a deeply (deeeeply) karmic aspect. It’s funny to see all the friends with benefits who have this aspect start out as “lol we don’t want a relationship” to “……. Lol nevermind” and end up together. They go back to each other because they’re simply too significant to each other. Fear of being vulnurable is also big on both so they either take that step or they’re just standing there forever. Mutual aspect, but it’s mutual in different ways. Truthfully, I don’t see this aspect so often in relationship charts. I see it with people who are in love with each other and aren’t together, or people who started out casual but still for some reason can’t let each other go after more than a year, or people who have had the roughest most obsessive breakup in history and ask me for advice. Often, people in relationships who have this aspect don’t come to astrologers for advice. They’re too ‘into’ one another to do that, I feel like.
Venus trine moon: cute cute cUTE because the venus loves reassuring the moon person with affection, which makes the moon person feel so safe and endorphined and warm. The moon person simply inspires that in venus! Great for a chart with more difficult aspects !
Moon conjunct jupiter: so if a guy is jupiter and the moon is a woman and they’re married, the woman doesn’t need to worry about jupiter feeling turned off from the relationship by her pregnancy. Moon is the feminine, the nurturer, the mother, jupiter adores and respects her. Jupiter inspires respect, optimism, friendships and all things serotonin. Jupiter will make the moon feel good. The kind of union where the guy will constantly declare how much he lovees her pregnancy glow ✨ the same goes ofc for lesbian relationships but since this is a cultural phenomenon i thought i might touch on it.
Moon opposite jupiter: i feel like this might be the opposite story :/ the girls motherhood and need for support and needs in general will just be the opposite to what the jupiter person finds ‘fun’ and joyful, BUT if they’ve made it this far in the relationship as to have a child together it should be okay. At least the cause of the behaviour would moreso be astrology, not misogyny.
Moon square jupiter: wife jokes, but the ones that are cute and funny.
Moon in third:
Being someone with a moon in third house be like: wow imagine going through something hard and not type 10k words in your notes app about it.
Having your moon overlay in someone’s third house be like: wow imagine going through something and not telling that person 10k words about it
Also: jupiter has such an underrated influence on us in astrology!! Jupiter radiates the most energy out of all the planets in our solar system and may be way more personal and influential than we think in astrology… And in synastry also it’s the MOON
#astrology#synastry#zodiac#astrology signs#astrology synastry#zodiac memes#free chart report#synastry aspects#synastry astrology#synastry chart#synastry overlays#mars synastry#moon synastry#moon opposite mars synastry#composite chart#composite#astrology houses#astrology compatibility#natal astrology#free astrology#astro observations#synastry observations#venus astrology#twelfth house#moon astrology#mars aspects#astrology readings#astrology love#astrology chart#astro notes
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hysteria
kinktober, day twenty-eight
a/n: look, we already know that I'm a nerd when it comes to medical history, so this really shouldn't come as a surprise. only thing surprising about it is how fucking long it took for me to finally write this kinda fic, damn, because this fantasy is ancient.
summary: “miss, I’m afraid to inform you that you have hysteria.”
warnings: doctor!aleksander morozova x innocent!reader, smut, dubcon, historical au, medical kink, time accurate sexism, fingering, sex toys (vibrator, fuck machine), penetrative sex, unprotected sex, size kink, squirting, dirty talk, multiple orgasms, creampie, overstimulation
word count: 1607
∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽
masterlist | join my taglist | kinktober 2023
Eyes glued to the clipboard in his hand, doctor Morozova quietly read up from the list of symptoms he had just scribbled down, “…unmarried, insomnia, increased nervousness during social interactions… miss,” he then lifted his obsidian gaze and told you gravely, “I’m afraid to inform you that you have hysteria.”
“I-I do?”
“Yes, I’m terribly sorry,” he laid the papers down on the desk before him, “seems like your womb is not where it’s supposed to be and that can cause all sorts of problems as you can see by your symptoms.”
Fingers weaved so tightly in the fabric in your lap it nearly broke through, ruining your dress, your panic began to bubble out, “what should I do, doctor? Is there a cure?”
“There is,” he nodded, subtly raising a hand up to soothe your nerves, “the way to relieve this disorder is by causing something called a hysterical paroxysm,” he informed, abruptly redirecting his stare down upon the woodgrain of the tabletop, “now, usually, if a woman is married, the husband is to perform the treatment, but since you’re not,” his eyes flickered back up to find yours, “I’ll help rid your body of this ailment.”
“Really? Thank you,” you gasped, “what, uh, what does it entail?”
“Oh, it’s simple enough,” he waved a casual hand, “you just rid yourself of your undergarments and lay down on the exam table for me.”
“I-…” you blinked, eyes wide before you swallowed, “…alright…”
Getting up from the chair opposing his desk, you walked around the flimsy partition set up in the corner. Reaching under your dress, you timidly pulled your underwear down your legs, past your stockings and off. Folding the garment in a neat little bundle, you settled it on the small stool that stood back here before stepping back out from behind the cover.
Now settled at the bottom of the exam table on a seat, he gestured for you to get up onto the slab before you apprehensively did so.
“If you would please just put your feet up in these stirrups,” he adjusted the metal legs below you, “then we can get started.”
As you then shifted, settling your feet into place, your skirts tented and began to ride up, a gust of crisp air kissing your exposed centre and causing your cheeks to heat up.
Hearing his chair scoot closer, you then felt his touch softly ghost from your knees all the way up your thighs till his fingers were gently prying your petals apart. After taking a good look, he then briefly retracted his touch, unscrewing a nearby dark glass jar, swiping up some of the glossy contents before grazing through your folds once more, the cool temperature of the lubrication causing you to suck in a sharp breath.
“Sorry, if it’s a bit cold,” he murmured as he continued to smear it in.
Head faintly shaking, “it’s fine,” you tried just to focus on your breathing.
Pushing your dress a bit more out of the way, he told you, “just try and relax for me, it will go by a lot smoother if you relax,” his touch then suddenly changed, “now, tell me,” zeroing in and pressing down on your clit in a way that made the office around you go fuzzy, “how does that feel?”
Blinking down at him, you found that his vision was already firm on you, “I-… I don’t know… how is it supposed to feel?”
“It’s supposed to feel good,” he rubbed a bit harder, “so, does it feel good?”
“I-I guess so,” your vision fluttered back up towards the ceiling, the doctor’s dark eyes being too much to stand, “yeah.”
“Good, good,” his attentive touch then shifted, “now let me just have a feel inside. Deep breath for me,” your lungs expanded at his command, “there you go,” and his long finger pressed inside, gently curving it around against your walls as he examined, “yep, there it is… your womb, it’s in the completely wrong spot,” he swiftly worked another digit in, watching as you stretched around his fingers, “it’s good that you came in now before it got even worse,” pulling back out, he ended the contact with an unnecessary rub against your buzzing clit.
As he then scooted a bulky and mysterious machine over, you asked nervously, “w-what is that?”
“Just a little apparatus that’s gonna help cure you,” he twisted a vaguely phallic shape into place at the end of the device’s long arm. After noticing your startled expression, you felt his warm hand sprawl across your thigh, “don’t worry, love. It’s all gonna be just fine,” lining it up, “just try and lay still,” he turned a switch and the attachment slowly drove into you.
“Oh my god!” your palm slammed down against the exam table.
“Shh, it’s alright,” he caught your eye till your body slowly began to give in, calming under his gaze. Reaching his right hand up, he tickled your puff as the gadget slowly eased in and out of you, “you’re doing great so far, just relax for me,” you saw his free fingers sneak down to enclose around the apparatus’s knob once more, turning the speed further up.
Feeling like you might fall off the table entirely, you panted, “doctor, I think something might be wrong.”
“Nothing’s wrong, love,” he nearly chuckled, “this is how it’s supposed to feel,” smiling as you let go an uncontainable moan, knees nearly closing as you tumbled over the edge, “there it is, good, good…”
Expecting for the machine to be shut off, the doctor instead pushed your trembling knees aside and conjured a bulky ward-like device that buzzed in his tight grip, the other hand firm on your leg as he pressed the vibrator against your sensitive pearl, “ah! Doctor! What are you-”
“We’re not done yet,” he stated firmly, vision fixated on the mess he was turning you into.
The squelching of your pussy cut through the loud buzzing of the gizmos, “but it’s too much, I can’t-”
“You wanna get better, don’t you?”
Fists tight in your dress, crumbled at your waist, you let out a shaky, “yes.”
“Then quit your whining and let me treat you,” his stare snapped up as he warned you, “if you keep that up then I’ll have no other choice but to restrain you, is that what you want?”
“N-no,” the overwhelming sensation caused you to tremble like a leaf.
“Be a good girl and take it.”
When the second wave hit, it crashed into you so fiercely that you let out a lewd scream.
“There you go, that’s it!” the doctor bellowed as your pussy gushed, crying out around the intense toys, “oh, fuck…” unable to peel his eyes away as he finally turned off the machines, additional juices squirting out as they withdrew.
Limbs twitching, you hazily asked, “was that it? Are we done?”
Palming himself through his pants, his gaze stayed glued to your weeping core, “not quite yet, miss… that release of excess fluids was a very good sign, very good sign indeed, but we’re not quite done… there’s still more that needs to get out in order for your uterus to align itself again,” your eyes then flicked down to his fingers as they worked at the buttons on his slacks, swiftly freeing something much bigger than the apparatus he had just fucked you with.
“Doctor?” your eyes grew as he stepped closer, rubbing his tip against you in a way that made your eyes flutter.
Finally meeting your gaze, he uttered, “please, call me Aleksander,” before thrusting his hips forward, stretching you apart with his cock. Fingers digging into your thighs, he glanced back down and smirked, “I think your womb just needs a little reminder of where its home is,” before he slammed in, all the way, pushing the air out of your lungs as his balls nuzzled against you.
“Ah!”
“Just need to knock at its door a bit to call it home,” the tip of his generous length kissed your cervix with every rough thrust, borderline going too deep as you clambered around him, “that’s it, taking the treatment so well.”
Just as you had thought he had settled on a rhythm, he pulled the rug out from under you by suddenly withdrawing his girth entirely, spreading you apart so that he could watch how he made you gape, only to bury himself completely once again, repeating the cycle over and over, relishing in the way it drove you up the wall.
“Fucking hell… I can feel it, you’re getting close, clamping around me like a desperate little whore,” he groaned, watching as after a few more breath-taking rounds, your pussy began to weep once again, “oh, there it is,” squirting out every time he retraced himself, “atta girl,” the fullness he then granted you only persuaded more to appear.
When you were nothing more than a literal puddle in his grasp, Aleksander truly lost control, pounding into your trembling mess before he made it even more so, stuffing you full of his hot cum.
Low groans still flowed from his lips as he retracted from you for good, the sensation of his seed trickling out of you and onto the exam table nearly going unnoticed from how exhausted the treatment had made you.
“Was that it?” you asked weakly, “am I cured now?”
Tugging himself away as he caught his breath, he answered, “not completely,” glancing back up at you with a glint in his dark eyes, “I think you’re gonna have to come back a few more times …”
© 2023 thyme-in-a-bubble
#lea’s writing#kinktober 2023#the darkling smut#shadow and bone smut#aleksander morozova smut#aleksander morozova x reader#the darkling x reader#ben barnes smut#aleksander morozova imagine#the darkling x you#the darkling imagine#shadow and bone au#general kirigan x reader#aleksander morozova x you#the darkling x y/n#shadow and bone fanfiction#shadow and bone fanfic#aleksander kirigan x reader#general kirigan smut#doctor!aleksander morozova
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hello love! I just, like, devoured all your writings today and idk if your requests are open, but I really like seer!reader and I was wondering if I could request one with poly!marauders where reader is a slytherin and she has a vision of befriending them or being in a relationship with them?
I’d imagined she thinks it’s a silly vision at first but the more she sees the boys (as she’s friends with Regulus so is bound to run into them with him), the visions occur more and more until she finally has an official interaction with them and officially meets them.
Idk if that’s too complicated/confusing, if so, you don’t have to write it obviously 😅.
I love Seer reader!!! thanks for your request lovie <3
please note: my requests are currently closed as I finish exams and work through the requests that I currently have.
poly!marauders x Seer Slytherin fem!reader who Sees a relationship with them
“Tell me again why I have to sit at the Gryffindor table for lunch?” You protested as Regulus all but dragged you to the Great Hall and Barty skipped merrily-on ahead.
“Because I have to sit at the Gryffindor table for lunch.” He answered gruffly, strengthening his hold on your arm as you faltered in your steps.
“I don’t know, babes; have you ever considered just killing him? You wouldn’t have to reconnect with your estranged brother if he was dead.” Barty offered nonchalantly.
“For the last time, Barty, I am not killing my brother.”
“A decision we’re all suffering for, apparently.” You muttered petulantly as you entered the Great Hall; chatter and the sounds of cutlery and tableware permeating your senses.
“Don’t worry, Treasure. The faster we eat the faster we can get away.” Barty offered in consolation.
“I am not doing the heimlich on you again, Barty.” You groaned as you followed Regulus towards the wrong side of the Great Hall.
“Come on, they’re not that bad.” Regulus tried.
You and Barty both stopped to give him unimpressed glares.
“Lupin’s not that bad.” He corrected.
“Yeah, and then he ruins that by the company he keeps.” You grumble as you plopped yourself down unceremoniously at the Red and Gold table across from your three lunch dates for the day.
Listen, you were all for being a good friend, a supportive friend; you would die for Regulus Black.
You’re not sure that support extended to willingly eating lunch with Gryffindor’s.
But Regulus was determined to mend his relationship with his brother before Sirius graduated, Barty went just about anywhere Regulus went, and apparently you were single-handedly responsible for Regulus’ general sanity when it came to his brother and Barty.
“Hello Reggie!” Sirius called quickly.
“Don’t call me that.”
“What am I supposed to call you?” His brother bit back slightly less brightly.
“I call him sugar tits but I don’t think that’s universal.” Barty offered as he started loading up his plate.
“It’s a pleasure to see you again, Junior.” James offered cautiously.
“I bet it is, Potter.”
Sirius sighed as if he’d been dealing with the likes of toddlers all morning and not 37 seconds of Barty Crouch Junior. “The polite thing to say would be ‘it’s nice to see you too, James’.”
Barty froze with his fork half way to his mouth as he furrowed his brows at Sirius. “No it wouldn’t; it’s not polite to lie, Black.”
“I brought another friend you can try to converse with.” Regulus spat hastily.
“Pretend I’m not here; that’s what I’m doing.” You sighed as you resigned yourself to your fate.
“Well, this is off to a good start.” Remus said with a smirk as he flipped a page in his book.
You did suppose Lupin was the least…abrasive of him and his boyfriends. You’d had a chance to get to know him last year during prefect rounds; and while you didn’t appreciate how much he let his fellow Marauders get away with, he was relatively nice. In fact, if he had been in any house other than Gryffindor, you may have given him a chance.
His boyfriend’s, though?
You’d rather take your chances with the Giant Squid than spend your lunch hour with them.
Were they attractive? Sure. You may be contemptuous, but you weren’t blind.
But they always seemed to be on; there was never a moment of silence with those two nearby, and you often found yourself bracing for impact whenever they were around.
“Looking as smashing as ever, L/N.” James said as he shot you a wink.
Case in point.
“If I threw a stick, you’d leave right?” You sneered and turned towards your sandwich.
“Nice!” Barty cheered at the same time as Remus muttered “easy kitten; play nice.”
You started to feel the familiar sensation of your consciousness being pulled elsewhere. It felt as though you were being submerged under cold water, and the neurons firing in your brain were being gently lifted and ushered towards a new reality.
“What’s wrong dollface?” Sirius asked you earnestly.
You sucked in a shaky breath as you tried to hide the trembling in your hands. “I just don’t feel very good.” You whispered, not trusting your voice to get through a sentence without sobbing.
“Oh, my poor girl. Come here sweets.” He repositioned himself from laying on his stomach to sitting cross legged and opening his arms in invitation.
You quickly accepted his offer and curled up in his lap as he wrapped protective arms around you and began to rock you back and forth.
“You’re okay, dolly. You’re just fine.” He murmured with his lips pressed to your hair line. “D’ya wanna stay here with me and the boys tonight?”
You let out a pathetically embarrassing keening sound as you nodded quickly.
“Okay baby; consider it done.”
You sucked in a horrified breath as your consciousness returned and you were once again assaulted by the noises of the Great Hall.
Regulus quickly caught the glass of pumpkin juice you’d just nearly toppled and was holding your wrist tightly in his hand.
You thanked the deities for his seeker reflexes and that he seemed to already know what had happened; this was a relatively routine practice between the two of you this far along in your friendship.
“You’re okay.” He offered without even sparing you a glance as he took a napkin with his free hand to clean up what little you’d spilled.
He kept your wrist in his grip; tracking your pulse as he waited for your heart rate to slow down.
“Was it a good one!?” Barty asked excitedly, alerting you to the fact that it wasn’t just you and Regulus sitting here.
You looked up horrified to see Remus, James, and Sirius all looking at you with various levels of concerns.
“Was what a good one?” Sirius asked bemusedly.
Barty scoffed derisively. “She’s a Seer, Black. Fuck, you’re thick.”
“Barty.” Regulus scolded as he turned to offer you his full attention.
“Are you really?” James asked at the same time as Regulus asked “what did you See?”
“I have to go.” You muttered breathlessly as you grabbed your things and headed towards the exit.
“No fair! Why does she get to leave and I don’t!?” You heard Barty whine as you pushed through the doors to the courtyard.
You were going insane, surely. This was just a bout of madness. You needed psychological help, like one of those muggle mind healers. You could not seriously be having Sights of you dating the Marauders.
“Hey L/N!”
“Fucking hells!” You shrieked as you spun to see Remus and James approaching you, the latter having been the one to call your name.
James still had his ever present smile on his face whilst Remus approached you with slightly more caution.
“Not happy to see us?” Remus asked with a soft smirk across his face.
“I…well,”
Apparently your bumbling was particularly telling to your current mental state, if their furrowed brows and nervous glances to each other were anything to go by.
“No funny quip for us today? You’re not going to tell me that I look like something you could draw with your left hand?” James taunted.
“Go fuck yourself, Potter.” You said with half the amount of derision you’d intended.
“Why? You wanna watch him?” Remus asked.
Okay, everything you ever said about Remus being not as bad as his boyfriends?
Lies.
“For Salazar’s sake, L/N; you sure know how to pick ‘em, huh?” Avery sneered from behind you.
“Speak when you’re spoken to, fuck face.” You barked back.
Avery only scoffed in response.
“Hanging out with Baby Black and his crazy pet that follows him around wasn’t enough; you had to sully yourself with the likes of Gryffindor’s?” Mulciber continued for him.
“You know, I’d be mad too if I looked like someone who has fallen for every MLM scam known to mankind.” James spat; his face taking on a severity you’d never seen from the notoriously sunny-dispositioned boy.
You wondered what else you hadn’t seen from him.
You made a rather hasty and embarrassing retreat after that gave you some…inappropriate thoughts.
You’d been plagued with more Sights since then, having been avoiding them after more images of them fussing and fawning over you (and - perhaps more horrifyingly - you over them), and then out-and-out hiding from them after a particularly… steamy Sight you had.
“You cannot hide in the Slytherin common room forever, Treasure.” Barty sighed as he plopped down beside you on the couch and rested his head on your shoulder.
“Why not?”
“Because Regulus gave them the password to the common room.”
“He what!?” You shrieked as the door opened and in spilled three Gryffindors and one Slytherin.
“There you are, angel!” James cheered as he quickly made his way towards you.
Already with the pet names!?
“Did you really think you could hide from us, dollface?” Sirius winked as he and James took the settee across from you (causing a few younger year Slytherin’s to quickly vacate the area).
“Regulus, how could you?” You seethed at your now ex-friend.
“I’m tired of Barty bailing on me to hide out here with you. Also, I’m not a house elf and will no longer be bringing you your meals.”
You pouted at him before a surprised yelp left your lips as you were lifted up from your seat.
Remus took your place on the sofa and placed you in the space between his thighs.
“Lupin! What are you doing!?”
“Making your dreams come true, gorgeous.” Sirius answered for you.
“They’re not dreams, you absolute mumpsimus. They’re visions of the future.” Barty sneered.
“Even better then.” James continued as he now pulled a scowling Sirius into his side. “We’re starting our future together.”
“You told them!?” You asked Regulus disbelievingly.
“Well you weren’t going to.”
“That was the point!”
“Easy there, dove.” Remus whispered into your ear, causing a shiver to rack through you as your body traitorously melted further into Remus’ embrace.
The only way out of this was clearly going to be the death of you (via Remus’ smoothness, James’ loveliness, and Sirius’ boldness), their murders (at your hands), or stupidly drunk in love.
You weren’t sure which option was worse.
#marauders era#marauders au#marauders fanfiction#reader insert#self insert#sirius black#remus lupin#james potter#poly!marauders#poly!marauders imagine#poly!marauders fluff#poly!marauders x reader#poly!marauders x you#remus lupin x reader#remus lupin x you#sirius black x reader#sirius black x you#james potter x reader#james potter x you#bartylus#regulus black#barty crouch jr#seer!reader#ellecdc fics
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Hey! So I had this Hurt comfort fic idea with Charles where she is engaged to him. Have you seen the video about the crowd in Montreal surrounding him? So something like them arriving and he's signing and clicking pics through the crowd holding her hand and the crowd and paps goes a bit haywire and she is separated and then visibly very hurt and injured because of that. And Charles is angry and protective, with the "Idc about myself but if anyone touches/hurts you I lose it" or something similar. Add drama and spice as you feel
Thank you Babe ❤️
A Step Too Far || CL16
Warnings: fluff, angst, implied smut
WC: 1.9k
Charles could remember the first time he met your father. Obviously it wasn’t the first first time but it was the first time as your boyfriend, and that made it more important than any of the times they met in the paddock. Toto had gripped his hand tightly as they shook, pulling the younger driver closer to whisper in his ear.
“That’s my daughter, Charles, you put her above all else. It’s my job to protect her, and I’m trusting you here.”
“I understand, sir. I’ll keep her safe.”
“What did he say?” you asked as you left for your date.
“Nothing, ma chérie,” Charles assured you with a smile and a kiss to your cheek.
For three years he had kept that secret promise religiously, even as his popularity grew beyond his wildest expectations. He couldn’t walk down the street without being recognised, crowds gathering and people asking for photos or signatures. It wasn’t exactly new for you having grown up the way you did, but Charles’ fans were far more excitable and passionate than the ones who met your father.
Monza 2023
Everywhere you looked it was a sea of red supporters, the tifosi out in force to celebrate the third and fourth places Ferrari had taken in the race. You could see the equal parts of pride and disappointment on Charles’ face as he watched Carlos take the third step on the podium.
After heading back to his driver room, he collapsed into a chair with a groan and hung his head in his hands. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and kissed the top of his head, wrinkling your nose at the sweat that dampened his dark hair. “That was a hell of a fight, baby.”
His grunt told you he thought otherwise but he placed his hand over yours and gave it a soft squeeze. “I almost had it, amour.”
“I know.” You nuzzled into his neck until his shoulders bunched up and he wriggled with a laugh at his ticklish spot.
“Okay, okay, no more moping,” he said as he stood up and turned to face you. “I love you.”
“I love you too.” You held up your hand that had a sparkly new ring resting upon it. “Or I wouldn’t have said yes.”
“I’m very glad you did.” He smiled as he took your hand and kissed the engagement ring. “I need to shower. There’s room for one more…”
Charles kept you tucked close to his side as he made his way through the lines of fans to where his car was pulling up. You were running late once again, after being distracted while you were meant to be getting dressed to go out for dinner. He left your side for only a moment to open your door but that moment was all it took as the metal barriers separating the crowd came crashing down and they surged forward.
The sight and the sound gave you a fright and you stepped back instinctively. “Charles!” He turned at your panicked tone and watched with horror as your heeled foot missed the curb, twisting painfully as you fell. For a second he lost sight of you in the sea of red and he was spurred into action.
“Back up! Get out of my way!” he shouted to the crowd as he pushed his way to you. Rage filled him as he found you crumpled beside his car, arms wrapped protectively around your head while the bodies finally started to give you room. Tears blurred your vision as pain radiated from your ankle and suddenly you were weightless as a familiar pair of arms picked you up. “Amour, are you hurt?”
You could hardly hear him as the crowd demanded his attention, screaming as they waved hats and posters in his direction. The look he sent them should have been warning enough but they were too high on his presence to notice.
“Amour?”
“My ankle,” you admitted with a wince as it was jostled.
He released a torrent of expletives under his breath as he carried you to the driver’s seat and climbed in with you on his lap, your legs hanging over onto the passenger seat. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” he apologised as he kissed your temple and pulled out of the hotel.
“It’s not your fault, Charles, I should have been paying more attention.”
“You got hurt because of me, that’s the only reason they were there. Shit.” His eyes darted to the centre screen as it announced an incoming call from Toto and he hit the accept button on the steering wheel.
“You haven’t lost your watch again, have you?” Toto greeted, his voice thick with amusement.
“We are almost there,” he replied as he turned onto the street where the restaurant reservation was booked. “We just ran into some trouble with some fans.”
The silence was deafening until it was broken by the scratch of a chair being pushed back on a wooden floor followed by the click of your father’s footsteps. “Trouble?”
You watched the door to the restaurant open and your father ignored the concierge as he stepped to the curb Charles was pulling up to. “This should be fun.” Charles grimaced at your words and ended the call as Toto tucked his phone away and opened the passenger door.
Toto stared at the empty seat before dragging his eyes across the space to find you on your fiancé’s lap. “Hi papa.”
“Don’t hi me,” he tutted as he walked around and moved the valet along with a wave of his hand. “What happened?”
“Nothing,” you assured him as you accepted his hand out of the sports car. “You two are as dramatic as each other.”
The flare of pain was sudden and impossible to hide when your shoe touched the pavement, the joint weakly giving underneath you. If not for Charles behind you it would have been much worse but he took your weight and kept you upright.
“What the fuck have you done to my daughter, Leclerc?” You found yourself in a tug of war, but you were the rope. Your father tried to pull you out of his arms but your yelp of pain froze the very air. He relinquished his fight and raised his hands before pointing a damning finger at Charles. “Hospital, now.”
“But I’m hungry,” you whined as he instantly moved to follow the order, stepping back towards the Ferrari. “Can’t we go after dinner, please?”
You turned your pleading eyes to your father and watched his resolve weaken.
“No,” Charles interrupted before Toto could agree and you turned to him with a look of betrayal. “Don’t look at me like that, amour. I can’t bear to see you in pain, especially when it’s my fault.”
“At least you take ownership,” Toto muttered. “Susie and I will bring you dinner. Go.”
There was no room to argue, not that Charles would. He respected your father too much for that.
“You need to make a statement,” Toto said tiredly as he sat in the hospital chair opposite Charles. You were on the bed separating them, enjoying the lack of pain while the drugs did their job and waiting for the moonboot to be fitted. “Something like this cannot be allowed to happen again.”
“He didn’t exactly give them permission, papa.”
Charles cut you a look out the corner of his eye before nodding to Toto. “I’ll make sure of it, sir. It might be time to hire some security.”
Your father barely hid his scoff as he muttered, “Better late than never.” Toto sat up straighter and rubbed his tired eyes. “These are things you will need to think about even more in the future, especially when you have children of your own - you’ll realise you can’t wait until something bad happens before making changes. You need to start thinking about the future now, son.”
Charles’ stare turned out the window as he took the advice seriously. You could see the contemplation set in hard lines across his face. The look turned sad when the nurse arrived with the moonboot you would need to wear for at least two weeks and he started to withdraw into himself as he pulled his phone out. Only a few moments later you saw your phone light up with a notification that he had posted to his Instagram.
“Good man,” Toto said as he read the statement that in no uncertain terms warned his fans there would be consequences if they couldn’t respect the boundaries set.
“Was that really necessary?”
“Yes,” they both answered adamantly.
“You are all set to go, darling,” the nurse said with a soft smile. “Rest up, and if there are any concerns just come right back.”
After thanking her you hobbled along, sandwiched between your father and fiancé, to the underground car park where the car was waiting.
“I’ll come back to your hotel, make sure you get inside safely,” your father said as he opened your door and kissed your cheek.
“His fans have probably all run away by now.”
“I think you’re underestimating the tifosi. I’d rather not take the risk.”
Toto was right, because if anything there were even more fans lining the entrance to the hotel than before. Only this time there was also more security.
You were quickly ushered through to the quieter reception area where Toto shared a look that said ‘I told you so’ before bidding a goodnight and heading his own way back. The elevator ride to the penthouse suite was silent and it wasn’t the comfortable silence you were used to. It grew heavier with each level and you were itching to get out of the confined space by the time the doors opened.
“It’s not your fault,” you whispered as Charles pulled his shirt off and sat on the edge of the bed with a sigh. “Don’t blame yourself.”
“I broke my promise,” he said as his shoulders sagged further, like he was moments from imploding on himself. “I swore to your father I would protect you.”
“Charles, I love you, but you can’t protect me from the world - no matter what my father thinks.” You crawled over the duvet and onto his lap so you could cup his face. “I don’t blame you and it is me who is going to be marrying you, not him.”
His brows pinched together. “I hadn’t even thought about children.”
“What?”
“After the wedding, having children - what that would be like in this environment. I hadn’t thought about it. I obviously knew it’s what I wanted for us down the line but now…it’s a little scary to think what might happen to them.”
“Char, there’s no rush. We don’t know what our future will look like in five years, or ten.” You stroked his cheeks and dipped your head forward to kiss his pouting lips. “Just focus on the here and now, baby. Forget what happened out there. In here, it’s just you and me, and a king sized bed that’s far too neatly made.”
“It is pretty neat.”
“So why don’t we mess it up?”
His eyes flicked to your legs draped over his, lingering on the bulky boot. “Amour?”
Your fingers were already running down his chest, reaching for the waistband of his trousers he had worn to dinner. “You won’t hurt me. You could never hurt me. I trust you.”
#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#f1 rpf#charles leclerc fanfic#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc x you#f1 x you#formula 1 fanfic#formula one imagine#formula one fanfiction
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Coming Home
PAIRING: Female Avenger! Reader x Bucky Barnes
SUMMARY: “Falling for you was like nothing I imagined.” Her voice started to give out as the door to the safe house burst open, “It was coming home.”
WARNINGS: ANGST, ANGST, ANGST! but it has a happy ending, mentions of death, dying, blood, stab wounds, violence, Sad! Bucky, nausea
Word Count: 1913
A/N: Hi! Here is another installment of my febuwhump series! Like I said, completely out of order but I couldn't wait it share this one with you guys!
Enjoy! <3
Divider by Rookthorne
Y/n knew when they left for this mission that something wasn’t right. It was too clean, the information was too good. Despite the many reassurances from Bucky when they landed, she still couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. Now, as she ran, she made a mental note to shout, ‘I told you so’ at her partner as soon as they reached the safe house, that was, if she could get out of the collapsing building. Skidding around a turn she pushed herself harder, desperate to reach the exit. She was almost there when there was an excruciating pain thrumming up her left leg. Whipping her head around, she saw a knife embedded in her calf and a trapped HYDRA soldier holding onto the handle.
“If I’m going down, you’re coming with me, sweetheart.” the soldier grimaced as he twisted the knife. Y/n glanced at the fast-approaching collapse of the ceiling before looking at the trapped man.
“You fucking wish,” she growled before shooting the man. His hand, now lifeless, released the handle so she continued her rapid sprint to the exit, somehow stumbling out the doorway and collapsing in the grass just as the rest of the building fell into a pile of rubble.
“Y/N! Are you alright?!” Bucky's worried voice shouted in her ear, causing her to wince.
“Just fucking peachy.” She grumbled, closing her eyes as a headache started to form in the back of her head. She re-opened them, however, as she heard rapid footsteps approaching, looking over just in time to see Bucky’s approaching form. He slid to a stop and took in her battered form on the ground.
“Are you hurt darlin’?” Has questioned, as he leaned down to help Y/n back to her feet. S he winced as her left leg started supporting weight again.
“Yeah some bugger got me in the calf on the way out, but it's not bleeding too badly, we can take care of it at the safe house I think.” She groaned, putting more weight on Bucky's shoulder. He glanced over her shoulder to observe the wound in question and nodded in agreement.
“Yeah, I think so too but let's get you to that safe house faster.” Bucky led her to the bike that was hidden in the tree line and gracefully set her down on the back seat before hopping on the bike himself and speeding off down the dirt road.
The longer the pair drove, the worse Y/n felt. Her head started spinning and her stomach churned. By the time they reached the safe house, she all but flung herself off the bike and hurled what was left of her breakfast that morning into the bushes.
“Shit, you ok doll?” Bucky asked, crouching down next to her, running a hand up and down her back. Y/n let out a groan.
“Been better I’m not gonna lie.” As Bucky wrapped an arm around her frame and pulled her up to move her into the house, she couldn’t decide if the butterflies in her stomach were from being this close to him or the nausea. Once inside the small safe house, Bucky placed Y/n on the kitchen table and dashed off to grab the first aid kit from the bathroom.
She tried to get an idea of what was around her in the room but the more she tried to focus on one thing, the more it spun around in her vision. Unable to prop herself up any longer, she lay flat on the table trying to stop the world from moving around her. Bucky returned moments later and placed a wet rag on her forehead, causing her eyes to flutter open.
“I’m gonna get this knife out now, ok doll?” Bucky said as he rounded the table. All Y/n could do was make a soft ‘mhm’ and groan as he pulled the knife out.
The first sign that something was wrong was the orange tinge to the blood that came pouring out of the wound. The next hint was the remnants of a yellow powder on the blade. The more strange orange liquid oozed out of the wound, the faster Bucky’s heart sped up.
“Y/n? You feeling ok darlin’?” He called out, looking up from the wound when he heard no response. Y/n’s head was limply lying to one side. He cursed under his breath as he tightened the tunicate and dashed around the table to place a hand on her face.
“Y/n? Open your eyes for me darlin’.” Bucky called out desperately, his thumb brushing over her cheek, taking notice of how cold it was to the touch. Her eyes fluttered open and her blown-out pupils focused on Bucky’s face. A wistful smile decorated her features.
‘Hey Buck, when did you get here?” Bucky’s heart sank, he knew the signs all too well from his time in the war. The faraway look, the disorientation, she was dying, but she couldn’t be, not yet.
“I’ve been here the whole time doll. Can you keep your eyes open for me?” He pleaded as he started to back away to try and return to her wound to keep patching it up. He was stopped by her hand coming up holding his hand to her face, keeping him in place.
“You know I always knew that this was going to happen.” She mumbled, locking her gaze on his face. Bucky riffled through his pocket looking for his emergency transponder.
“W-what are you talking about, baby? You’re gonna be fine!” He stated, fumbling over his words as he pulled out the little remote and pressed the button. Y/n shook her head.
“No, I’m not and you know that just as much as I do.” Her voice was becoming airy the more she tried to talk. Bucky felt the hard knot in his throat starting to form as he shook his head, willing the tears to go back into his eyes.
“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about doll. I’m gonna get you patched up a-and we are going to go home and you are gonna take me to that noodle shop you promised me right?” Y/n shook her head softly, not having a lot of energy to move at this point.
“You know I won’t. But please know, none of this is your fault”. Her voice was light and airy as she spoke. Bucky shook his head wildly.
“No, not like this, Y/n, please not like this!” He cried, bringing his other hand up to cup her face, trying to keep her gaze locked on him. She soothed him, bringing her other hand up to place it on top of his head, burying her finger into the dirty chestnut locks.
“It’s gonna be ok, Buck.” She whispered, a smile still decorating her face. Bucky decided that even as she lay there dying on the table, she was still the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.
“Don’t be sad, the stars are going to shine tonight.” Bucky took a shaky breath, letting his eyes slip close to savor the feeling of her fingers in his hair one last time.
“A-and when you see them, know I am watching over you.” Y/n gasped as her body began shutting down causing Bucky’s eyes to flash open in alarm. Y/n shook her head a bit, a breathy laugh dancing off her lips.
“There is so much to say, so many wonderful things I have to tell you, but with so little time left.” Her voice was only a whisper now, but even as quiet as her words were, she couldn’t hear the jet engine roaring in the background.
“Like what darlin’?” Bucky whimpered as he watched her eyes grow dull the closer the footsteps got to the door.
“Falling for you was like nothing I imagined.” Her voice started to give out as the door to the safe house burst open, revealing a disheveled Steve and Bruce barreling in, with the rest not far behind. With a final breath, she looked Bucky right in the eye.
“It was coming home.”
~~~~~~happy ending after the cut but if you want to be sad stop here~~~~~~~~
The cry that left Bucky as her hands went limp and her eyes slid closed was going to haunt the team for the rest of their lives. Bruce, who had been tending to the wound the first chance he got, looked to the rest of the team.
“She still has a pulse, all be it faint. I know what's wrong with her, we can save her.”
To Bucky, everything after that was a blur. Steve pulled Bucky away from Y/n and Tony scooped her up, rushing her back to the jet as the rest rushed after him. Back at the compound, Y/n was placed in the med wing as Bruce began treatment. Bucky didn’t understand much other than “Radiation sickness. Uranium on the knife. Nothing he could have done.”
Nothing he could have done? He watched the love of his life basically die in his arms, in his care and there was nothing he could have done? After being forcibly made to shower and change clothes to rid himself of the Uranium on his clothes was he then allowed into her room. He resumed the position he held at the safe house, clutching her hand and waiting for any signs of life, other than the beeping from the monitor.
Bucky moved his gaze from her face to the window. The light danced off the windows of the other building unfiltered by the cloudless sky. It was beautiful, but he couldn’t appreciate it, it looked dull in comparison to the woman on the bed.
“I thought I told you to not be sad.” Her voice was so soft that Bucky thought he imagined it but when he snapped his gaze to her face, he saw her bright eyes staring right back at him. Bucky choked on a sob and rested his head on the bed. The relief flooding through his system was too much for him to handle. Her nimble fingers took their rightful place on top of his head, brushing through the now silky hair strands.
After a moment, Bucky lifted his head and captured Y/n’s hand as it fell from his head, pressing a kiss into her palm before holding it in his hands.
“It’s hard not to be sad when the one person who brought life into the darkest parts of my life was dying in my arms.” He returned his gaze to lock onto Y/ns. For a moment the pair sat in silence before Bucky spoke again.
“I thought I lost you.” Y/n just smiled softly, not saying a word. Bucky just stared at her, trying to bask in the warmth of her gaze as long as he could. The more he basked, the more the nightmarish pain of losing her was becoming just that, a nightmare.
“But I’m still here.” Bucky’s grip increased slightly, fearful that he may hurt her, but needing to feel her to keep himself grounded, keep himself from falling off the edge of reality in the abyss of ‘what ifs’. Bucky had so many things he wanted to tell her, so many different things he could and should say but the only thing that managed to slip out was, “Yeah. Yeah you are.”
#bucky barnes x reader#bucky x reader#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky x you#bucky barnes#bucky x female reader#bucky angst#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x reader angst
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i needddd cute pt 2
cute pt.2 - m.s
a/n: i’ve been feeling really bad that i missed the original persons request by a mile 😭 so i’m gonna add that into this part lol
warnings: i couldn’t really figure out how to word it but i PROMISE matt wasn’t being creepy about following her to the bathroom‼️ he just really wanted to meet her. we don’t do that weird shit over here 🙄
also, vinnie hacker mention 🗣️ unfortunately, he has nothing to do with the story, i just needed someone to add💀
you were invited to a party that a friend of a friend was throwing.
did you know who this person was? vaguely.
in your eyes, it didn’t really matter.
what mattered was that matt sturniolo and his brothers would also be attending this party.
while you didn’t really have to go, you were a good friend and rightfully needed some time away from your social media life.
what better way to do that than to surround yourself with social media influencers? cue the sarcasm.
what made this all the more annoying to you was that it was a ‘valentines day’ party.
as if you weren’t all over the age of eighteen. you wanted to roll your eyes at the thought.
sure, the thought was cute and the idea was definitely there. but as you walked into the house, y/f/n’s hand in your own, you couldn’t help but scrunch up your face at the excessive amount of pink and red that flooded your vision.
“i guess we missed the memo?”
“no, i saved us the embarrassment of looking like we were back in third grade.” y/fn laughed out a scoff.
“i should definitely pay you more.”
while she was your friend, she also helped quite a lot with managing your channel. with reminding you of what your supporters wanted to see, to recording you anytime you needed content.
and though before she would say it was out of the kindness of her heart, you felt bad that she did so much for free. and once you started getting popular, you made quick work to pay her for all the stuff she did in the past and now she practically worked for you.
it was a win win situation. you got a best friend and a coworker all in one. it was much better than your previous partner that expected so much more for doing not nearly as much as y/f/n did.
“i definitely wouldn’t complain.”
you shared a laugh, moving your way through the crowed and to the drink table.
“i haven’t been to a party in a while, what are the odds we see a fight break out?”
a voice behind you interrupted before she could respond, “that would make this place so much more entertaining.”
your eyes widen as you froze up, trying to pinpoint where you may have heard the voice before turning around to actually see who it was.
“hi.” nick smiled at you.
“oh my god. hi.” you pulled him into a hug, pulling away to see him do the same to y/f/n, introducing himself to her as they hadn’t known one another very well.
“it’s so nice to finally meet you.”
“you’re telling me.” you stepped aside so he could lean against the wall with you two, “i’ve been wanting to say thank you in person since you’ve sent me that lip balm.”
“i can vouch.” y/f/n spoke up, “after your live together, she wouldn’t shut up about it.”
nick smiled, “i appreciate it, and i’m glad you like it. ive been wanting to meet you too, you’re like one of my favorite youtubers ever.”
“my god, shut up.” you roll your eyes, nick coping the motion.
“speaking of the live…”
“goodness.”
nick didn’t stop, “what’s this crush you have on my brother?”
“no crush, just…admiring his beauty.” you brushed off the teasing look they gave you.
“it’s definitely a crush. you can’t admire matt’s beauty without thinking nick and chris are attractive as well. they’re triplets.” y/f/n stated matter of factly.
“right.” nick agreed, “we literally have the same face.”
“nick and chris are gorgeous.”
“oh, thank you.”
you look back to see chris walking towards you guys, smile on his face. with just a simply glance to the side, you could see matt following closely behind his brother, eyes darting around him.
“oh.” your eyes widen, chris’ snort echoing in your ears as you pass your soda off to him, “i need to go to the bathroom.”
“no, you don’t.” nick laughed.
“i’ll be back!” you shouted, secretly having no intentions of returning until it was clear that matt wouldn’t be around.
“she’s nervous to meet you.” you could hear y/f/n telling matt after the middle triplet asked what was wrong.
if he was absolutely beautiful through your screen, you couldn’t imagine what he’d look like in person.
you barely managed to stop your face from warming up when you saw him in one of their podcasts episodes, how would you react if you got the chance to see him in person? last thing you wanted to do was embarrass yourself.
“hi, yn.” a voice called out, leading you to look over and smile,
“hi, vinnie.”
“you okay?” the hacker frowned at your unusually tense nature.
“i’m fine, i need the bathroom!” you called out, unaware of the blue eyes that were following your figure, also hearing your statement and making it his goal to get there before you.
“you’re going the wrong way.” vinnie laughed, pointing in the opposite direction of which you were walking.
“right, i knew that!” yoh waved off his drunken cackle, managing to make it down the hall and to the bathroom within a minute. you hoped you were lucky enough to walk in a not see some random couple doing it on the counter top.
as you opened the door, letting a sigh of relief and a short, “jesus”, you were startled when a voice spoke to you,
“take it as a compliment, you’re a lot cuter in person.”
opening your eyes in a panic, you spotted matt, arms crossed over his chest as he stood in front of the mirror.
“oh, my god.”
taglist: @hearts4chris @timmyandsturniolo @mayhem-72 @luvsturns @knowingnothingnoel @mrsmattyb
tags for this fic: @3kslav @bb-1s-blog @annamcdonalds67 @sturns333 @dracoflaco @electrobutterfly @wolfstarfate @landrysflannel @3mm4yung @strnsblog @lexxxiii-iix @patscorner @lemon-criminal
#sturniolo triplets#nick sturniolo#matt sturniolo x reader#matt sturniolo imagine#chris sturniolo#matt sturniolo fluff#matt sturniolo
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