#but this is not only a little guy it is a FRUIT. a peach. that thing should bruise easily | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

1800jjbarnes · 5 months

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◇ 𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟐𝟎: 𝐒𝐞𝐱 𝐏𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐧 - 𝐁𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬 ◇

Out Of This World

【Synopsis】 : You were gifted an Asgardian plant from Thor since he knew you loved greenery. Little did anyone know the pollen had some weird side effects when inhaled.

『W.C.』 : 3.17k

-> Genre: Fluff. Smut

Pairing: Avenger!Bucky x Assassin!Reader

[Warnings] : Swearing. Crying. Making out. This is slightly dub-con. Neck kisses. Hickies. Possessiveness. Slight toxic thoughts. Breast play. Begging. Dirty talk. Unprotected sex. Lots of emotion.

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“Hey so has anyone seen Peach? we’re about to leave.” Steve was walking around like a worried mother, trying to find you before you all were supposed to leave for this event thingy they had agreed to attend. You weren’t in the mood for parties or galas at any time of day or night. So you disappearing before one wasn’t a surprise.

“I’ll go look for her. She's probably in her room trying to find a place for that new plant Thor gave her from off planet.” Bucky rolled his eyes, knowing his best friend all too well, heading straight for your room which was situated on the same level as his in the compound. A couple of days ago, Thor had returned from his trip back to his home and had gifted everyone with something from there. So, of course, you are a planet lover. He brought you one of the exotic flowers. Bruce pestered on how ‘we don’t know what that plant could do. Is it even safe’ but Thor reassured everybody that it was fine. And that he had no clue what the plant was anyway. So with that, Bucky said he’d catch up with them and take his bike later with you rather than make them wait.

While this ordeal was unravelling, you were frantically holding the said flower in a beautiful pot that Loki had gifted you along with it. You had so many plants as it is that you’ve realized there was no room for the newest addition. A knock at your door startled you almost to the point of dropping the poor guy all over the floor. But luckily, your reflexes kicked in quicker than usual. “Come in!”

You knew it was most likely someone like Tony or Steve coming to parade you about ‘getting ready for the gala’ but you seriously didn’t want to go. It wasn’t like you hated your friends or the party per se. You just hated people in general. And why, you may ask? Because people are loud, rude, narcissistic, and most importantly, stuck up. Half the time, people love to walk all over you because of your job. Given that you and the others were Avengers, people only looked at you in two different views. Scum that brought danger to earth. Or these kinds of saviours, superheroes. God even. Something you didn’t consider yourself as. So either way, you didn’t want the interaction. So staying home it is.

“Give me one good excuse why you are still in your pyjamas running around like an idiot holding an alien plant and maybe, just maybe I’ll consider you not going to this lame party a good enough reason.” Bucky's voice brought you to a halt, your head snapping back down towards the little Kitchen/Entrance. Your nose was scrunched up, making Buck know you were trying to think of a lie. You were never good at them, always having a tell clear as the day. He just scoffed, slipping his shoes off so he could walk into your room. “So, what’s your excuse, Doll?”

“It’s uhh…” You half smiled, tip-toeing toward the large male. “I need to find a spot for my son.” You shove it in his face in an almost innocent manner. Bucky held in his chuckle, staring at the strange purple-looking plant. He had to tilt his head, noticing it was moving almost like it was breathing. Shaking off the weird thought, his gaze looked back up to your wide eyes. The sparkles in the corner of them made his heart flutter. You loved nature so much, from the simplest things like flowers and fruits to the weirdest in Bucky's opinion, Moss, Fungi, and vines.

“Son?” He had to chuckle.

“Yes, my son. Isn’t he pretty? I need to find a spot for him.” You brought the plant to your chest, inspecting him with such innocent eyes. Oh, what Bucky would give for you to look at him like that. You were perfect in every way. Even if you are shy, introverted. You smiled at everyone, making any of your teammates feel like they were the centre of your attention. But every time you gave him that same smile, he felt like he was the centre of your world. Like nothing else mattered but you two and your longing stares. Maybe his crush on you has gotten out of hand, and maybe he should just ‘man up’ as Sam puts it and tell you how he feels.

But he doesn’t want you to stop looking at him like that. Like he could do no wrong. That he wasn’t a monster, an outsider. Like he thinks he is. No, your smile would just say he was one thing. Human.

“Well, I guess you’ll need to name your son too.” Bucky steps a little closer to you, now both staring down at the plant with the beautiful purple and gold patterning on its petals. You hummed in response, beginning to think of all the stupid names you could give it, but then something strange began to happen. The plant swayed, but there was no breeze. Its leaves wrapped slowly around the stem, and then slowly, it squished itself down. What was it doing? You knew it was an alien plant, but this was definitely not something a plant should do… right?

“Has it done that before?” Bucky asks.

“No It’s onl―” Your words were cut off when a bright purple powder suddenly exploded from the plant landing straight onto your and Bucky's faces. From the reaction, you dropped the plant, making the soil go everywhere on the floor by your feet. You hissed at the pollen-like substance sticking to your eyes. you could hear Bucky also groan in protest, more likely from the same thing.

“What the fuck!?” Bucky yelled. “I’m going to kill Thor and Loki, I swear to god.” He manages to get the sticky purple dust out from his eyes, letting him open them to see you cowering with your fingers desperately trying to get the dust off you. “Honey, hey… come here.” His hands cupped your face, using his thumbs to gently wipe away all the dust he could.

“Why is everything purple?” You blinked a couple of times, noticing your surroundings were tainted in a violet-like hue. Bucky didn’t want to scare you, but he, too, had the same view. He helped guide you to the sink in the kitchen, putting the tap on so he could splash some water on yours and his face. The purple slowly went away, but the hue was still slightly there. Drying your face with some paper towel, you suddenly felt an odd shiver pour down your spine. You gulped, having a hot flush start to wash over you as if someone turned up the AC. You took a step back leaning against the countertop, trying your best to shake the uncomfortable feeling.

“Are you okay, Doll?” You looked up from the floor to see Bucky with rigged breathing. His nostrils were flared, and his mouth was slightly agape. He had a fire burning in him, making all his blood go straight to his cock. Eyes hazy, and voice deep and growled. He sounded like a predator coaxing his prey.

“I…I don’t know.” You had no clue how to explain with you felt, but all your mind could understand was that you needed something, someone to help get rid of the pain. A sharp stab pierces your chest, making you hiccup before falling onto the floor. Bucky was quick to meet you on the ground, gripping onto your arm, holding you up. His touch sent sparks to your dripping core. You needed him. “J-Jamie I need help…”

Your whimper made Bucky groan, shaking his head in an attempt to suppress his needs. He couldn’t think straight, only thinking about what your pussy could feel like. No, you’re his friends! His friend that he had the biggest crush on. But no, he can’t just pin you down this very floor and fuck the life out of you… right? “H-honey, please. Do you know what kind of plant that is?”

“Loki said uh, it…it was a samfar? Samfarir?” You tried to remember the conversation you had with Thor and Loki when they gave you the plant, but your mind kept wondering to… other things. you layed down on the cold tiles in the hope you could cool yourself down. Bucky had let go of you leaning against the cabinet along the wall. He sighs, raking his fingers through his damp hair. He knew what this plant was.

“Fuck… That fucking dick. It’s a sex plant.” Bucky's words made your eyes snap open, sitting up to look at him in a what the fuck did you say expression. “It’s a plant from his home planet that is supposed to help intercourse. But they stopped the practise cause of one downside.”

“What…What's the downside James?!” You sat on your knees, placing your hand on his hot thigh. Your innocent touch alone made his cock twitch. His eyes met yours and the temptation to kiss you was becoming increasingly difficult.

“You don’t have sex. You die.” He said it bluntly. “I found out from a conversation Tony was having with them. Asking if there was something to help boost his sex life. Typical…” He scoffed, pinching the bridge of his nose. Now there was a stalemate cause lets face it as much as he wants to, he wasn’t about to ask if you wanna fuck. How would he even ask such a question? And plus his crush on you doesn’t help him in this situation. He watched you wiggle, feeling your pussy begin to drip through your shorts. God, he could smell you too. Everything was making his hair stand up. Your scent, your heavy pants, the way your eyes were glossed, practically begging him to do something, anything.

“If that’s the case…” you trailed off, scooting close to him, placing your free hand on his forearm. He suddenly jumped, pushing himself away from you, making you flinch. You didn’t want this either. You were so in love with Bucky since the first day you met, and you did not expect this to be the way you’d be intimate with him. But him pushing away from you hurt so much. You put your hands in your lap, feeling your heartbreak. Maybe he thought death was better than having sex with you.

“Hey wait I uh…” Buck saw the panic in your eyes, seeing tears start to form, moving back to grab your hands, making you look at him. “I didn’t mean…fuck. Uh. I don’t know wha…” Bucky cut himself off with a hitch. You look so desperate, your tongue sticking out to lick your lips slightly. His hands gripped tighter on yours, forgetting all of his past thoughts, past restraints. You and he can just talk later, right? “Fuck.”

He cupped your face, smashing his lips on yours. It was single-handedly the best kiss you’ve ever experienced. His tongue slipped inside quickly, attacking your own. He drew out moans from you that he thought he’d never hear. Your fingers intertwine with his jacket. He was forceful, pushing you down onto the cold hard floor, pushing his thigh between your legs so he could brush it against your core. The pressure was the relief you needed, bucking your hips without a second thought. Everything was happening so quickly, but neither of you cared anymore. “J-Jamess…”

Buck swallowed your words, biting down on your bottom lips before pulling away, drawing a sharp gasp of pain from you. There were no words shared. No, only your bodies spoke. Telling one another, you needed the other. Your hands ran up his biceps, digging into the leather on him. He kisses the corner of your mouth before slipping down towards your jaw, then neck, before stopping on your collarbone sucking harshly. His teeth grazed your shoulder, using his metal hand to help tug down your shirt slightly so he could sink his K-nines into your skin. He didn’t want this to be a memory by the end of it. He needed to leave evidence on your body to show you and himself that this was indeed real and it was happening. Your hips hadn’t stopped there slow grind against his thigh, making his light jeans deepen in colour from your wetness. His hand moved from your shoulder, gliding down to your hem. He tugged it at first, seeing how loose it was before getting his other hand to pull the opposite way, ripping the fabric in half.

“Pretty.” he sat on his calves, seeing the laced black bra you were sporting. Your chest rose and fell at each breath, making him bite his lip and eyes darken. You were more beautiful than he could have imagined. All his late-night wet dreams, fucking his fist at the sheer thought of you would never compare to what his gaze met with now. And he never wanted to let it go. You were going to be his whether you liked it or not. He took his shirt all as well before diving back into your kissing along your breasts before pulling down your bra letting your tits spill over the top. You did have time to say anything before he latched his mouth on your hard nipple, while his thumb rolled over the other.

You cried, feeling tears prickle against the corner of your eyes. You moaned his name over and over, trying to find any type of pressure to heal the ache from below. It was like his mind knew your body, noticing the sign of plea. He gave one last suck on your nipples before pulling away with an audible pop. Your eyes opened slightly to see his dark blue pair staring at you with intensity. It was like he was scanning your body, making sure to remember every scar, beauty mark, freckle, and stretch mark so he could reply this event later in his mind. His hand cupped your mould, feeling heat pooling from it. If it wasn’t for the plant clouding your judgment, you’d most definitely be embarrassed. But you didn’t, so all you did was buck your hips into his hand, spreading your legs more for him to have his way with you.

“Please. I’m yours, Bucky. Do something. Anything to me. Have me, however you want. Just please make it stop hurting.” Your words made Bucky stop for a moment. Even though this plant affected both of you, it seemed that his mind was clearer than yours. His enhancements must be helping him from completely losing his mind. His face was inches from yours, gripping your chin with his fingers, making you focus on him. He needed to confess before he continued, even if neither of you believed it and blamed the plant afterwards. He needed to tell you what he felt.

“I love you, Doll. I’ve loved you since you arrived as a new recruit. I’m so madly in love half the time I don’t know what to do without you being by my side. And I swear to fucking god, I’ll take you out and treat you like the queen you are afterwards but for now, I’m going to fuck you like our lives depend on it.” He sealed his lips on yours once last time before sitting up to pull your pants down.

“Our lives do depend on it.” you halfheartedly chuckled, groaning at the cool air blowing on your bare cunt. He threw your pants across the room, unzipping his and pulling them down enough to pull his cock out. You gulped at his size, knowing he must be big but he was…definitely big. He placed his hand on the base of his cock while the other snaked the back of your neck, bringing your bodies close together. Your breath was mixing together and your eyes never left his, brows knitting slowly as you felt his tip push against your soaked hole. “I love you… I love you so much.”

“Fuck.” he bottomed you out making you hiss at the pain since neither of you prepped. But the pain was short-lived as he started thrusting slowly. His head fell into the crook of your neck letting you wrap your arms around his broad back. Your nails dug in harder with each snap of his hips. His cock was hitting all the right places, feeling his pelvis rub against your clit perfectly and his balls hit your ass with each moan and gasp that slipped off your tongue. Everything was overwhelming yet perfectly balanced at the same time. You cried, not just from the intense pleasure but from Bucky's words previously. Your purple-hued vision slowly became normal, and your mind unfogged.

The plant's influence slowly left your and Bucky's system, leaving just your raw feelings for one another. Neither of you pulled away. Neither of you wanted to run. You were perfectly content in each other's arms. Locking your lips in a non-verbal seal of love. You were his, and he was yours whether either of you voiced that neither of you cared. You only cared for his body caging you on the hard cold floor while he only needed your cunt to keep squeezing him before you both were coming undone. It was sticky, messy, loving and raw. And it was just the way you both dreamed it would be.

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miffysrambles · 2 months

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hi! Feel free to not respond, but currently by dog is really sick and has this huge tumor and I know I’m gonna have to put him down soon and it really sucks, but your writing has made this a bit better so could I possibly request Sun Wukong and/or Macaque x reader with a dog? Like how would they react and would they like-call themselves the dogs parent or stuff like that? Feel free not to of course!

Oh my goodness, I'm so sorry for the late response anon (this ask has been sitting in my inbox for some time now). But I hope you're still around and enjoy!

Wuong and Macaque with an S/O who has a dog

Wukong:

Gods, Wukong LOVES your dog.

You’ll be making a snack for the two of you and you’ll just be hearing the monkey man giggling in the next room as the two play a classic game of tug of war.

You thought it was cute, at first.

When you realized it was with your sweater, you put an end to it real quick.

Now in his defense, he didn’t even notice!

Totally calls himself dad to your dog, he spoils the shit out of them.

AVOID PET STORES AT ALL TIMES!

“Hey peaches, you think (dog name) needs this?”

Wukong, no your dog does not need 12 new toys they barely plays with the five new ones you got them at home…

You sometimes bring your dog to Flower Fruit mountain for a small walk and visit which Wukong is ecstatic about.

The dog is strictly only allowed inside the house for their safety but you three definitely do late night cuddles on his couch.

You laying against Wukong on one side and your dog resting its head on the other in his lap.

You open your eyes to look uo and see Wukong gently petting them and gently scratching behind their ear with upmost care.

You smile and close your eyes once more, falling asleep with his arm wrapped around you.

Macaque:

Hilariously, Macaque was kinda nervous around your dog at first.

He won’t admit this to you of course (gotta look all tough in front of you0 but you could tell by the freeze and twitch of his tail.

Didn’t help the your dog was jumping up at his legs.

“W-Woah, hey there little guy…”

He tries so hard to keep his cool, cut him some slack.

However, spending more time with them, he becomes more chill and used to it.

He loves your dog after some time, he even offers to take care of them while your at work.

While your on break, he walks them to your work with some food to surprise you.

“Hey sugar plum, surrrprise.” His smooth voices calls out to you as you sat on a park bench outside your work.

You smile and he kisses your cheek, your dog barking out for you in excitement and you three spend your limited time together.

Lots of dates where your dog tags along, one including going to the dog park.

Macaque was in his human disguise but you could still tell he was a bit unnerved being around so many dogs.

You squeezed his hand, assuring him he was ok and you were there with him.

You couldn’t see it but his tail would’ve flailed like crazy from that.

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itsabouttimex2 · 3 months

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Here's a challenge: platonic x reader who hates monkeys with a passion (you could do it with phobia or irrational hatred). With Wukong, Macaque, and Mk.

Pithecophobia

Yandere MK, Sun Wukong, Macaque

(Fun fact 1- prunes are not their own fruit! They’re just dried plums.)

“I’m just saying,” he starts with a scoff, “it’s really silly that you’re expecting me to play along with this. Especially when I don’t get anything out of it.”

MK turns around to face the demon monkey, frowning. He folds his arms and walks backwards to keep eye contact, hoping that his mentor would watch his steps for him.

“Uh, you are getting something out of it, though? Y/N spent all day cooking for us so we could celebrate the new year together! They even made extra in case we wanted to bring someone else! That’s like… super nice of them!”

“Oh, I might get some maybe decent food, is that it? And all I’ve got to do is pretend to be a powerless mortal all the way through a probably mediocre dinner, huh? Just because this weird friend of yours is scared of monkeys?”

Sun Wukong; who had eyeing the sky for early fireworks more than he had been looking out for his student’s safety, finally chimed in. “To be fair, I think that mug of yours would scare anyone away!” A second later, he ducks down to avoid Macaque’s incoming tail, leaving MK to take the brunt of the relatively harmless blow.

MK stumbles backwards and almost into the street, only stopped when his mentor’s tail wraps around his waist and pulls him back onto the sidewalk. “Whoa,” the Great Sage mocks, setting MK safely back down, “someone’s in a bad mood today! Maybe… you’re just mad cause no one except us wanted you over for the new year?”

Macaque snarls and lunges at Wukong, ready to brawl. It’s only when MK swiftly moves to stand between them that the near fight is averted. “Guys, come on! Can’t you get along for just one day?!”

The “NO!” that they shout in perfect unison is just about what he was expecting, but he’s still a little disappointed about it. They both try to move past him to grab at one another, barely impeded by his physical position.

A thunderous bang echoes across the sky, a brilliant bloom of sparkling red painting the blue horizon. Macaque hisses and recoils, his arms quaking as he moves to clap his hands over his ears. At the exact same time, Wukong jumps up in delight, cheering and hollering at the sight. MK takes his chance to separate them, hooking his arm around Macaque’s, pulling the pained monkey demon along much quicker than he was moving before.

“Come on, come on! The food is gonna get cold if you two don’t hurry up! And! Y/N told me that there’s something special just for the two of you! Cause, y’know… when I asked if I could invite you both, they asked me what sort of stuff you liked, and I told ‘em about the whole ‘peaches and plums’ thing…”

Bringing up food seems to have been a decent enough distraction, as both of them choose to start moving along instead of fighting. Your house is already on the horizon. Now he just has to hope that another fight doesn’t break out between the rival demons.

As usual, life dashes his hopes of peace being anything more than a temporary lull.

“Yeah? Like how peaches are just about the best thing ever? And how everyone that isn’t crazy likes ‘em one way or another?”

“About how sweet-toothed meatheads can’t help but shovel them down whole? Those sort of people don’t have the brain to enjoy plums. Peaches are just sweet. Plums have a subtle astringent skin that mixes well with the flesh’s mellow sweetness.”

“Sure thing, old man. Go home and eat your prunes if ya like ‘em so much.”

“They are NOT-“

“Guys! We’re here!” Before they can argue any further, MK releases Macaque’s arm and rushes up to the door of your house. “Hurry up and come inside!”

He takes a moment to consider knocking, then grabs the doorknob and impatiently starts rattling it instead. To his delight, it’s already unlocked. A quick glance over his shoulder shows that both of his companions remain in their transformed state, tails safely tucked into their clothing.

He throws the door open and races inside, leaving the monkeys in the dust.

Just barely remembering to take off his shoes before he tears through the halls of your house without hesitation, he throws them aside near the door in a still-tied heap.

He follows a practiced path straight into the kitchen, finding you just as you remove a plate of pork-stuffed spring rolls from the oven. You set them down on the countertop to cool, then turn to face the very-expected intruder. You might’ve been surprised, if it wasn’t for his excited footsteps echoing through the house.

MK runs into your arms before you can even pull the oven mitts off, wrapping you up in a warm hug. For just a moment, it gives you the same feeling as coming home after a long day, cozy and inviting.

Then, his grip grows tight.

“I missed you,” he says, his voice quiet and low. “Invite me over more often. Or come to Pigsy’s and visit me, at least. Please.”

His grip tightens further.

And then he lets go of you, turning to face his two companions, neither of which you recognize. He waves them into the kitchen and moves to set the table.

Politely, you offer the first one your hand. He’s decked out in shining gold and exuberant red, like a brighter and flashier MK. “It’s nice to meet you! I’m glad you came to celebrate with me. Come and take a seat!”

He snags your hand between both of his own, giving it a firm pump. “It’s great to meet ya, bud! Thanks for having us!” He heads to the table and bounces on his heels, snatching up a seat for himself before anyone else gets the chance.

You smile and turn to MK’s other friend, the one dressed in a billowing black and red shroud that concealed most of his face and body. You offer him your hand as well.

He shrugs and walks right past you, sitting down at the opposite side of the table- probably to keep away from his colorful and loud companion.

MK frowns at his friend’s behavior, but turns back to you with a wide and rather forced smile. “Don’t worry about him. He’s just… not used to this.” His voice drops to a low whisper as he adds: “And his ears have been hurting all day. I think he’s getting grumpy.”

“I can hear you, kid,” the irritated man says from beneath his shroud. “There’s a reason that I’m called the S-”

“The SUPER SENSITIVE hearing guy, I know! The thing that all of your friends call you,” MK clumsily tries to lie, his ears and cheeks darkening to red with his poor attempt at deceiving you.

But before you can question him on it, his golden-clad friend pipes in with a snide: “He’s certainly sensitive, I’ll give him that.”

Outright chaos is only abated by the sharp click that sounds when you set a porcelain tray on the polished quartz surface of the table.

“MK told me about your favorite fruits, actually! So I stayed up late to make these for all of you,” you cheerily announce to the trio, lifting the delicate lid to reveal three plates of sticky-rice pudding. Each one is delicately drizzled with syrup sugar and studded in tiers with sweet fruits.

Your friend jumps forward, his palms hitting the table as he stares at you with wide-eyes. “Y/N! You made Eight Treasures Rice for us?!”

“Well, it’s more like ‘One Treasure Rice’, haha. It’s really only got the fruit in it, actually. I didn’t wanna put anything you guys didn’t like in there, so I decided to play it safe. I hope that’s not disappointing!”

“Not at all, bud! Not at all!” Several of his aureate accessories glint in the light as the man reaches eagerly for the peach-filled rice pudding.

You pass it to him with a smile, then give MK his own, stuffed full of tangerine slices. With only one left, you push the plum-packed dessert to the shrouded stranger, who seems to slightly brighten up at the sight of it.

Before anyone can say anything, you remove yourself from the table and hurry around the kitchen, gathering plates and utensils for the trio. You put them out quickly, then pile all the dishes you made in the morning onto the table.

“Good kid,” Wukong whispers to Macaque, picking bits of peach from the pudding as you arrange two plates of dumplings on the table. “And good food. Still regret coming, ‘Super Sensitive’?”

“…the kid’s alright. Jury’s still out on the food, though.” He pauses, taking a quick moment to think of something to criticize Wukong for. “And keep your tail under control. I can see the tip flicking back and forth in your pant leg.”

“Whatever you say, bud.”

A tray with a whole braised chicken is set between them, and a platter of steamed rice flour cakes after it. Finally, you take your own seat, next to the shrouded man and across from MK.

It strikes you then that you haven’t even learned the names of your guests.

“I’m Y/N, by the way! I’m sorry for not asking your names earlier! What should I call you?”

“The name’s Sun, bud! And that’s Mac, sitting in the edgy robe.”

“I like the robe,” you compliment politely, looking at the concealing garment. “The cloud embroidery is a nice touch.”

“It’s a cloak… and thanks.”

MK jumps forward in excitement and strikes his palms against the table, rattling the bowls and dishes.

“C‘mon! Let’s eat, everyone!

———————————————————————

“I think everything went well, today. You think so too, right?”

You set the knife down, turning to face ‘Sun’. As you cut up the leftovers, he’s sorting them into separate containers for everyone to take home. (And giving himself larger portions when you weren’t looking.)

“Definitely! I think my, uh… friend was pretty impressed. I hope we can do this again, Y/N! I don’t really have anything scheduled this time of year…like, ever.”

Except for watching fireworks from the top of his mountain, far away from company and civilization. Again and again, over and over, thinking only of his long-passed friends and companions.

“…we are going to do it again, right?”

“Oh, um, sure. I don’t see why not. My family doesn’t really come and visit, so I’ll probably have the house empty again next year. So, um… yes! I’d be happy to have you over!

He hums softly, nodding his head to your words.

“Sounds good, bud. I’ll be there. And… I’ll see if I can wrangle Mac into coming, too. Maybe just to see him jump at fireworks again, though.”

“He seemed interesting,” you graciously offer of the cloaked man, in spite of his admittedly poor behavior through dinner. “I enjoyed his stories.”

“Pfft! I could’ve told them better- I was there for most of them!”

“Well, the two of you should come again- MK seemed happy- more than usual, even. Honestly? I think he’s been stressed out lately… I’m glad he could have a day to relax. I really do need to visit him more often.”

“Huh. Guess it must be a little hard living so far from the city, bud. Any reason you’re this far out?”

“Oh, that’s… I inherited this house- and the orchard outside- from my parents, actually! I take a lot of pride in it, really. I wouldn’t trade it for the world, even if the work is a little lonely.”

“…I think I will come visit, then. And I might sample a few of your fruits, too,” he teases, lightly elbowing your side. “You think you can handle that, bud?”

“…you know what, Sun?” Sun, what he had informed you his name was. It fits him well. He’s bright and exuberant, and never stops smiling. He seems like he’d be a good friend.

“That- that sounds really nice. Come by anytime you’d like.”

Your words sound kind right now. They feel right to say. The Great Sage thinks so too.

And he’s certainly not going to forget about them. Neither will Macaque, listening in from the shadows beside your tangerine trees.

Why would they ever let go of this kindness?

#Platonic Yandere #Yandere Lego Monkie Kid #Yandere LMK #Yandere MK #MK #Yandere Sun Wukong #Sun Wukong #Yandere Macaque #Macaque #Monkiefam

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fawnfictions · 8 months

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Can I request general hcs for Wukong and Red Son crushing on a reader who uses a female reader?

little crushes

— wukong & red son x fem!reader

yessir, yesSIR !! apologies if red son is ooc, still not confident in writing his character <//3

;; romantic, no warnings.

WUKONG

- he is in DENIAL at first.

- he's found people attractive before, sure, but he's never had a crush on someone.

- doesn't know how to act, and may distance himself in an act of rash panic—he's scared of losing you as a friend, or getting too close and dealing with the loss of a mortal loved one.

- once he starts coming to terms with the fact that he likes you, he's scared.

- scared that getting too close to you will have you in danger of people that he regrets messing with, scared of eventually losing you and dealing with that pain, scared that you don't like him back.

- thankfully, he only really gets lost in these thoughts when he's alone.

- around you, he'll be a lot more touchy than he already is.

- loves wrapping an arm around your shoulders, or picking you up on his somersault cloud.

- if you're around when the Spider Queen attacks, or the Demon Bull King goes on a rampage, he's hauling your ass to safety.

- but when its more calm, and he has nothing else to do, theres a good chance that he'll drop by your house to freeload off of your snacks—definitely not because he desperately wants to spend more time with you.

- we all know that this monkey is LAZY, so he will be laying across your couch, packet of chips in hand, watching a movie based off his self, and living his best life while you're sitting there like,,, 'man? don't you have humanity-saving to do?'

- MK will absolutely notice how clingy his mentor is to you, and will not be ashamed to bring it up during one of his training lessons.

- Wukong will deny everything he says with an obvious blush across his face.

- but the young successor will try his best to play wingman, but he's not exactly subtle about it.

- cue him slyly walking up to you, like, "so, uh... what're your thoughts on Monkey King? brave, cool, handsome guy, right?"

- he will probably be the reason you two ever get to together, he'll accidentally end up confessing FOR Wukong.

- this monkey is so obvious, no one understands how you DON'T realise his crush on you.

- the way his face turns red when you wear a dress for a fancy occasion, or when he tells a joke and that harmonious laugh you have captures his heart.

- he will do ANYTHING to keep a smile on your face.

- unintentionally uses pet names on you, "hey, peaches—" "what did you call me?" "uh, n-nothing, nothing."

- if you let him, he'll love playing with your hair and styling it.

- human hair feels so different to monkey hair, it feels more fragile and delicate, soft and silky—plus, it smells nice.

- you get bonus points if your shampoo/conditioner is fruit scented, you'll catch him sniffing your hair and holding himself back from rubbing his face in it.

- please brush his hair, too, he'll fall more in love with you since its common for monkey's to show affection by picking through each others hair.

- he gets a little protective sometimes, as once certain demons realise his feelings for you, you'll become a target of kidnapping and being used as bait for their attempts at attacking the Monkey King.

- but, since you two haven't acknowledged your feelings for each other, you aren't as protected as you would be if you were his outright girlfriend.

- so enemies like the Spider Queen or the Lady Bone Demon, possibly even Macaque at one point, would definitely take their chances in taking you in their grasps to get a one-up on Wukong.

- and its probably during one of these moments, after he saves you, that he'll properly confess how he doesn't want to lose you because he loves you :))

RED SON

- this spicy boy—oh my goddd.

- immediately assumes he doesn't like you.

- thinks his crush on you is a feeling of annoyance, it will take him a while to realise its quite the opposite.

- since he thinks he 'hates' you, he'll spend a lot of time bickering back and forth with you, uselessly throwing insults around.

- its not until he doesn't see you for a while, whether its because he's busy with a project, or you've taken some sort of vacation, that he realises he misses his interactions with you, that he misses you.

- he'll be a lot nicer to you afterwards, which gives you a bit of whiplash.

- i feel like he'd be the type to buy you gifts and nice things, like he'd anonymously drop a pretty red dress off at your doorstep, or he'd give you a necklace claiming he just "happened to find it, and thought that it complimented your eyes".

- way to not be obvious, red boy.

- but he'd still playfully argue with you, he just wouldn't outright insult you as much.

- if you're friends with MK and go on his adventures with him, whenever Red Son goes to insult that group as a whole, he'll be like, "you guys are all insolent peasants... except you".

- i reckon he'd be reluctant to tell his parents about his feelings, and probably has a hard time on himself, thinking that he should've fallen in love with another demon, powerful enough to assist his family.

- but he forgets about those worries when he's around you <3

- when neither of you are busy, he just 'so happens to be in the same place as you, at the same time', an excuse he uses too many times for it to be a coincidence.

- you're out in the markets, just wandering around? he was in the middle of shopping there, himself!

- taking a stroll in the park? oh, he had just taken a step outside to clear his mind!

- at Pigsy's Noodles? he was on his way to conduct an 'evil plan' on Monkey King's successor!

- during the Spider Queen's attack, when the Demon Bull King was possessed by the Lady Bone Demon, he might come to you for comfort at first.

- definitely focuses on keeping you safe, though—no way in hell is he letting you be turned into a spider.

- you're definitely one of the very few people who help him with his temper.

- he doesn't lose it as quickly around you, instead, finding you rather calming, and often seeks you out when MK has gotten him particularly annoyed, or if his parents have upset him.

- will shy away from your physical touch, but deep down he does kind of crave it.

- is the type to blush if you brush hands walking past each other, or if your fingers touch when passing him an object.

- and my god—if anyone dared to flirt with you or look at you a little too non-platonically... he'd go off at them, yelling at them to respect a lady such as yourself, calling them a peasant for their advances on you, etc.

- and you're standing there like,, 'all he did was compliment my dress and wink at me'.

- if anything, you'll probably have to be the one to confess to him that you love him, but i can see him confessing his love after some pushing from other people ahem, MK, ahem...

- he'd act like it was a proposal, getting down on one knee or something <//3

- i said it before and i'll say it again, his love languages are gift giving and acts of service!!!

- expect plenty of gifts (probably more expensive ones, too), and inventions that will either, 1.) look really cool, or 2.) protect you in some way.

#lmk #lego monkie kid #red son #sun wukong #monkey king #red son x reader #sun wukong x reader #monkey king x reader #— fawns fics #romantic #headcanons

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ja3hwa · 6 months

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♡ 𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟐𝟎: 𝐒𝐞𝐱 𝐩𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐧 - 𝐂.𝐉𝐇 ♡

Out Of This World

【sʏɴᴏᴘsɪs】 : You were gifted an alien plant from one of your friends that lived off the planet since you loved greenery. Little did anyone know the pollen had some weird side effects when inhaled.

『ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ』 : 3.17k

-> ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: Sci-Fi. Galatic Heroes Au. Smut. Fluff.

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: Enchanted!Jongho x Assassin!Reader

[ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs] : Swearing. Crying. Making out. This is slightly dub-con. Neck kisses. Hickies. Possessiveness. Slight toxic thoughts. Breast play. Begging. Dirty talk. Unprotected sex. Lots of emotion.

Masterlist | Navigation | Kinktober List

“Hey so has anyone seen Peach? we’re about to leave.” Seonghwa was walking around like a worried mother, trying to find you before you all were supposed to leave for this event thingy they had agreed to attend. You weren’t in the mood for parties or galas at any time of day or night. So you disappearing before one wasn’t a surprise.

“I’ll go look for her, shes probably in her room trying to find a place for that new plant Wooyoung gave her from off planet.” Jongho rolled his eyes knowing his best friend all too well, heading straight for your room which was situated on the same level as his in the compound. A couple of days ago Wooyoung had returned from his trip back from to home planet and had gifted everyone with something from there. So of course you being a planet lover. He brought you one of the exotic flowers. Yeosang pestered on how ‘we don’t know what that plant could do. Is it even safe’ but Wooyoung reassured everybody that it was fine. And that he had no clue what the plant was anyway. So with that Jongho said he’d catch up with them and take his bike later with you rather than making them wait.

While this ordeal was unravelling you were frantically holding the said flower in a beautiful pot that Wooyoung had gifted you along with it. You had so many plants as it is that you’ve realized there was no room for the newest addition. A knock at your door startled you almost to the point of dropping the poor guy all over the floor. But luckily your reflexes kicked in quicker than usual. “Come in!”

You knew it was most likely someone like Seonghwa or Hongjoong coming to parade you about ‘getting ready for the gala’ but you seriously didn’t want to go. It wasn’t like you hated your friends or the party per se. You just hated people in general. And why you may ask? Because people are loud, rude, narcissistic and most importantly stuck up. Half the time people love to walk all over you because of your job. Given you and the others were galactic rangers, people only looked at you in two different views. Scum that brought danger to earth. Or these kind of saviours, superheroes. Something you didn’t consider yourself as. So either way, you didn’t want the interaction. So staying home it is.

“Give me one good excuse why you are still in your pyjamas running around like an idiot holding an alien plant and maybe, just maybe I’ll consider you not going to this lame party a good enough reason.” Jongho’s voice brought you to a halt, your head snapping back down towards the little Kitchen/Entrance. Your nose was scrunched up, making Jongho know you were trying to think of a lie. You were never good at them always having a tell clear as the day. He just scoffed, slipping his shoes off so he could walk into your room. “So, what’s your excuse, Honey?”

“It’s uhh…” You half smiled, tip-toeing toward the large male. “I need to find a spot for my son.” You shove it in his face in an almost innocent manner. Jongho held in his chuckle, staring at the strange purple-looking plant. He had to tilt his head, noticing it was moving almost like it was breathing. Shaking off the weird thought his gaze looked back up to your wide eyes, the sparkles in the corner of them made his heart flutter. You loved nature so much, from the simplest things like flowers and fruits to the weirdest in Jongho’s opinion, Moss, Fungi and vines.

“Son?” He had to chuckle.

“Yes, my son. Isn’t he pretty? I need to find a spot for him.” You brought the plant to your chest inspecting him with such innocent eyes. Oh, what Jongho would give for you to look at him like that. You were perfect in every way. Even if you are shy, introverted. You smiled at everyone, making any of your teammates feel like they were the centre of your attention. But every time you gave him that same smile, he felt like he was the centre of your world. Like nothing else mattered but you two and your longing stares. Maybe his crush on you has gotten out of hand and maybe he should just ‘man up’ as San puts it and tell you how he feels.

“Well, I guess you’ll need to name your son too.” Jongho steps a little closer to you, now both staring down at the plant with the beautiful purple and gold patterning on its petals. You hummed in response beginning to think of all the stupid names you could give it but then something strange began to happen. The plant swayed, but there was no breeze. Its leafs wrapping slowly around the stem and then slowly squishing itself down. What was it doing? You knew it was an alien plant but this was definitely not something a plant should do… right?

“Has it done that before?” Jongho asks.

“No It’s onl―” Your words were cut off when a bright purple powder suddenly exploded from the plant landing straight onto your and Jongho’s faces. From the reaction, you dropped the plant, making the soil go everywhere on the floor by your feet. You hissed at the pollen-like substance sticking to your eyes. you could hear Jongho also groan in protest, more likely from the same thing.

“What the fuck!?” Jongho yelled. “I’m going to kill Wooyoung I swear to god.” He manages to get the sticky purple dust out from his eyes, letting him open them to see you cowering with your fingers desperately trying to get the dust off you. “Honey, hey… come here.” His hands cupped your face, using his thumbs to gently wipe away all the dust he could.

“Why is everything purple?” You blinked a couple of times noticing your surroundings were tainted in a violet-like hue. Jongho didn’t want to scare you but he too had the same view. He helped guide you to the sink in the kitchen, putting the tap on so he could splash some water on yours and his face. The purple slowly went away but the hue was still slightly there. Drying your face with some paper towel you suddenly felt an odd shiver pour down your spine. You gulped, having a hot flush start to wash over you as if someone turned up the AC. You took a step back leaning against the countertop, trying your best to shake the uncomfortable feeling.

“Are you okay Honey?” You looked up from the floor to see Jongho with rigged breathing. His nostrils were flared and his mouth was slightly agape. He had a fire burning in him, making all his blood go straight to his cock. Eyes hazy, and voice deep and growled. He sounded like a predator coaxing his prey.

“I…I don’t know.” You had no clue how to explain with you felt but all your mind could understand was that you needed something, someone to help get rid of the pain. A sharp stab pierces your chest making you hiccup before falling onto the floor. Jongho was quick to meet you on the ground, gripping onto your arm holding you up. His touch sent sparks to your dripping core. You needed him. “J-Jongie I need help…”

Your whimper made Jongho groan, shaking his head in an attempt to suppress his needs. He couldn’t think straight, only thinking about what your pussy could feel like. No, you’re his friends! His friend that he had the biggest crush on. But no, he can’t just pin you down this very floor and fuck the life out of you… right? “H-honey, please. Do you know what kind of plant that is?”

“Woo said uh, it…it was a samfar? Samfarir?” You tried to remember the conversation you had with Wooyoung when he gave you the plant but your mind kept wondering to… other things. you layed down on the cold tiles in the hope you could cool yourself down. Jongho had let go of you leaning against the cabinet along the wall. He sighs, raking his fingers through his damp hair. He knew what this plant was.

“Fuck… That fucking dick. It’s a sex plant.” Jongho’s words made your eyes snap open, sitting up to look at him in a what the fuck did you say expression. “It’s a plant from his home planet that is supposed to help intercourse. But they stopped the practise cause of one downside.”

“What…What's the downside Jongho?!” You sat on your knees, placing your hand on his hot thigh. Your innocent touch alone made his cock twitch. His eyes met yours and the temptation to kiss you was becoming increasingly difficult.

“You don’t have sex. You die.” He said it bluntly. “I found out from a conversation San was having with him. Asking if there was something to help boost his sex life. Typical…” He scoffed, pinching the bridge of his nose. Now there was a stalemate cause lets face it as much as he wants to, he wasn’t about to ask if you wanna fuck. How would he even ask such a question? And plus his crush on you doesn’t help him in this situation. He watched you wiggle, feeling your pussy begin to drip through your shorts. God, he could smell you too. Everything was making his hair stand up. Your scent, your heavy pants, the way your eyes were glossed, practically begging him to do something, anything.

“If that’s the case…” You trailed off, scooting close to him, placing your free hand on his forearm. He suddenly jumped, pushing himself away from you making you flinch. You didn’t want this either. You were so in love with Jongho since the first day you met and, you did not expect this to be the way you’d be intimate with him. But him pushing away from you hurt so much. You put your hands in your lap feeling your heartbreak. Maybe he thought death was better than having sex with you.

“Hey wait I uh…” Jongho saw the panic in your eyes, seeing tears start to form, moving back to grab your hands, making you look at him. “I didn’t mean…fuck. Uh. I don’t know wha…” Jongho cut himself off with a hitch. You look so desperate, your tongue sticking out to lick your lips slightly. His hands gripped tighter on yours, forgetting all of his past thoughts, past restraints. You and he can just talk later right? “Fuck.”

Jongho swallowed your words, biting down on your bottom lips before pulling away, drawing a sharp gasp of pain from you. There were no words shared, no, only your bodies spoke. Telling one another you needed the other. Your hands ran up his biceps, digging into the leather on him. He kisses the corner of your mouth before slipping down towards your jaw, then neck, before stopping on your collarbone sucking harshly. His teeth grazed your shoulder, using his left hand to help tug down your shirt slightly so he could sink his K-nines into your skin. He didn’t want this to be a memory by the end of it. He needed to leave evidence on your body to show you and himself that this was indeed real and it was happening. Your hips hadn’t stopped there slow grind against his thigh, making his light jeans deepen in colour from your wetness. His hand moved from your shoulder, gliding down to your hem. He tugged it at first seeing how loose it was before getting his other hand to pull the opposite way ripping the fabric in half.

“Pretty.” he sat on his calves, seeing the laced black bra you were sporting. Your chest rose and fell at each breath making him bite his lip and eyes darken. You were more beautiful than he could have imagined. All his late-night wet dreams, fucking his fist at the sheer thought of you would never compare to what his gaze met with now. And he never wanted to let it go. You were going to be his whether you liked it or not. He took his shirt all as well before diving back into your kissing along your breasts before pulling down your bra letting your tits spill over the top. You did have time to say anything before he latched his mouth on your hard nipple, while his thumb rolled over the other.

You cried, feeling tears prickle against the corner of your eyes. You moaned his name over and over, trying to find any type of pressure to heal the ache from below. It was like his mind knew your body, noticing the sign of plea. He gave one last suck on your nipples before pulling away with an audible pop. Your eyes opened slightly to see his dark pair staring at you with intensity. It was like he was scanning your body making sure to remember every scar, beauty mark, freckle and stretch mark so he could reply this event later in his mind. His hand cupped your mould feeling heat pooling from it. If it wasn’t for the plant clouding your judgment, you’d most definitely be embarrassed. But you didn’t so all you did was buck your hips into his hand, spreading your legs more for him to have his way with you.

“Please. I’m yours Jongho. Do something. Anything to me. Have me, however you want. Just please make it stop hurting.” your words made Jongho stop for a moment, even though this plant affected both of you, it seemed that his mind was more clearer than yours. His enhancements must be helping him from completely losing his mind. His face was inches from yours, gripping your chin with his fingers, making you focus on him. He needed to confess before he continued, even if neither of you believed it and blamed the plant afterwards. He needed to tell you what he felt.

“I love you, Honey. I’ve loved you since you arrived as a new recruit. I’m so madly in love half the time I don’t know what to do without you being by my side. And I swear to fucking god, I’ll take you out and treat you like the queen you are afterwards but for now, I’m going to fuck you like our lives depend on it.” He sealed his lips on yours once last time before sitting up to pull your pants down.

“Fuck.” he bottomed you out making you hiss at the pain since neither of you prepped. But the pain was short-lived as he started thrusting slowly. His head fell into the crook of your neck letting you wrap your arms around his broad back. Your nails dug in harder with each snap of his hips. His cock was hitting all the right places, feeling his pelvis rub against your clit perfectly and his balls hit your ass with each moan and gasp that slipped off your tongue. Everything was overwhelming yet perfectly balanced at the same time. You cried, not just from the intense pleasure but from Jongho’s words previously. Your purple-hued vision slowly became normal and your mind unfogged.

The plant's influence slowly left your and Jongho’s system leaving just your raw feelings for one another. Neither of you pulled away. Neither of you wanted to run. You were perfectly content in each other's arms. Locking your lips in a non-verbal seal of love. You were his and he was yours whether either of you voiced that neither of you cared. You only cared for his body caging you on the hard cold floor while he only needed your cunt to keep squeezing him before you both were coming undone. It was sticky, messy, loving and raw. And it was just the way you both dreamed it would be.

-♥︎

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francoisl-artblog · 9 months

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10 Years since Pikmin 3. It really was worth it.

I needed to make a little something about it, you know ? As a long time fan, I'm just, really happy it's a thing. I wish I could do more, but (if times allow it to me) you can count on more Pikmin fan art on my side !

Anyway, So far, I only played the demo, and it's everything I could've hoped. This and Pikmin 1 + 2 ? Guys... I've been playing Pikmin 2 again ! It's really been 10 years since I've last touched it ! It's just, so cool. Playing it again in handled mode, it's really satisfying.

Also, theses new heroes ? They're silly, I love them. Look at the customizable character she's awesome ! (I called her "Pomme." similar to that old fake leak. Why ? To stick with Mario=Olimar's name thing, since Pomme is the French name for "Apple", staying in the fruit theme like Peach. I dunno, it sounded good in my head.)

Anyway !! Will surely play this one tomorrow, I think it's safe to say it'll probably be the best one in the franchise.

Pikmin (c) Nintendo Artwork made by me.

#Pikmin #Pikmin 4 #pikmin fanart #Oatchi #pikmin shepherd #Pikmin collin #pikmin 4 captain #digitalart #digital art #illustration digital #illustration #digital artwork #artwork #nintendo

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lychniis · 29 days

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⚘— RENDEZVOUS MIDNIGHT.

i. SYNOPSIS : you and tignari have an old routine. cyno partakes as it's main offender. ( tighnari x reader x cyno ) // evenfall event - prompt xviii ( ❛ i’ve known the warmth of your doorways. through the cold, i’ll find my way back to you. ❜ + daisy.

ii. WARNING(S) : mentions of injuries, food being used as love language, peaches i guess, tighnari is tired and loves you and cyno but in his words "what the fuck guys." you're a pushover, cyno is silly when he's sleepy it's true hoyo told me..

# masterlist

“Try not to wake him.”

It’s come to be a normal sight for you and Tighnari to find Cyno lying across the divan in the corner, bolster tucked beneath his chin and his knuckles a bloodied mess. A nod is shared and he’s turned over ( there is a momentary protest — Cyno’s grip on your wrist is hard but not in a way that churns anxiety into your crevices and screams of danger ).

“Nothing too bad this time.” you sigh, running gentle fingers through his hair. Your mouth and your head and your being hurts with that surge of tenderness. It’s cloying and it tears at your insides so easily and you let it, you let it ravage you apart like a foolish martyr ( it’s a scary thing, love ). “He’s probably tired.”

Tighnari shakes his head and levels that half conscious tangle of limbs on your lap with a withering stare. “I know you can hear me. Knock next time. We can’t help you if we don’t know you’re in the house.” He sits down next to you, fiddling with the waterskin and a few herbal concoctions. Pain killers, antibiotics — they were of your making, and his. The smell of petrichor still lingers on your skin from picking them.

Cyno doesn’t take the bitterness well at first. The delirium leaves him vulnerable, raw, maybe endearingly clingy ( and you’d crack a smile despite the anxious edge and coo just a little. Silly man. Silly, silly man ). If your affection was something softer like carefully crafted touches to glass, Tighnari held his reins with steeliness and a hint of exasperated care. He never sugarcoats the solemn subjects and he keeps his tone level.

“Be kinder, Tighnari.” you mutter. “He’s sore.”

“He’ll probably spit it out.”

“He won't, you know he won’t.”

Tignari’s ears sag just a bit but he relents to your words, a hand coming to rest on your shoulder, a nose coming to bury into your hair. Cyno turns and cracks an eye open. He stares up at him, then at you, and it feels like sparks of ember against the night. His hand gives yours a squeeze. “I’ll help cook later.” he promises. You press a kiss to his cheek. “Breakfast…shakshuka…have you eaten?”

“Not tonight, no.” you admit softly, if talking helps him sleep again. “But I'll have some fruit before going to bed.”

Cyno doesn’t seem to like that.

“I’ll…get something ready then.” he decides. “You need to eat…it’s important…” He says it with that tempered gentleness, the type meant just for you, for Tighnari, for Collei and the little known beloved he keeps close, closer.

“Okay.” Tighnari placates. He lays Cyno back. “Rest now. And you….” his gaze snaps to you. He hands you a zaytun peach, carefully sliced. You don't have time to question the semantics or when he even got it ready. “...eat and rest, alright? You have a big day tomorrow.”

“Right. More academic papers,” you mutter, feeling weariness settle at the thought of it. You take a peach slice and bite into it. Tighnari reaches to the side and procures another, halving it, then quartering it with his little blade. He fills the plate up again. You only just realize how starved you are.

“And Cyno’s shakshuka.” Tignari adds with a hint of weariness. “Make sure he doesn’t burn the kitchen down.”

( Cyno snorts in his sleep, as if the idea was plain offensive. )

❪⠀🎬⠀❫ AINE SPEAKS ;;

i'm sorry college and burnout hit me but here's he next evenfall post requested by @chaoskrakenuwu. i hope i did your bois justice kijugtfdfghj. ( but also yes food is such a love language in south asian and heck east asian households i might have added a bit of that okijhgvh ).

if you’d like to be added to the taglist, fill this form up!

taglist — @dustofthedailylife @meimeimeirin @silentmoths @crystalflygeo @ofoceansandtombsanew @ollieink @chiyoso @hleb-chan-sky @thesparklingwriter @localplaguenurse @khxii-i @laughterofthetombs @zhxngii @euniveve @meritamiau @timeofsilversstuff @dumbitchpdf @thexianzhoujade

AINE | 2024. do no plagiarize, repost or rework this piece.

#EVENFALL ; valentines 2024 #&&. my writing !!#cyno x reader #tighnari x reader #cyno x you #tighnari x you #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader

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dulc3vida · 26 days

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peaches 'n cream

pope heyward x lamb!reader

sequel to durazno

4k words

Pope didn't think you were serious when you said you wanted the peach but here you were, in his room, studying the peach with those curious eyes. Not even an hour ago, the two of you disgraced a church- not any church, your fathers church. Now you were leaning over his nightstand, eyes fixated on the peach. You were studying it. It sat on his nightstand, dripping with his cum. He could only be thankful that his mom hadn't decided today would be one of the days she cleaned his room while he was out. He could feel his ears and face burning as you analyzed the evidence of his depravity. You were enjoying this. He could tell by the way you glanced at him, laughter dying in your throat as you watched his expression turn more horrifically embarrassed by the second.

Pope had a lot of questions. He was curious by nature, but his world was basically flipped on its axis with one trip to your fathers church. He couldn't form a question that expressed his confusion so he watched you with morbid curiosity.

You were feeling a mixture of emotions. You were flattered, of course, but your religious guilt crept into the forefront of your mind. You never even thought about dating a boy and not one hour ago you were sucking Pope’s dick in the confessional. In your fathers church. Pope could see the gears turning in your mind and he only wished he could hear your thoughts.

Your guilt turned to a sense of comfort as you wrapped your mind around the idea of Pope being as depraved and deviant as you. You were not innocent by any means, but you never acted on your impulses- not with anyone else. You took your sexual frustrations out on pillows, the edges of tables, the edge of the dryer, the heel of your foot, and one specific teddy bear named Penny. Pope fucked a peach and came inside of it, imagining it was you. He felt the same way you did- craved the same things you did. He wasn't like the other guys who feigned interest in you to steal your virginity away like some trophy. Pope actively tried to keep himself away from you. He knew what would happen if he gave in, even a little bit. You wondered what it would be like if he lost all control.

The thought made your already wet, sticky pussy pulse with excitement.

“It's gross, I know-” Pope started and immediately cut himself off when you took the fruit in your hand. His cum dripped onto your hands and you played with it in one hand while the other brought the fruit to your lips. “Don't-”

It was too late, you sunk your teeth into the flesh of the peach. His cum was almost tasteless and was surprisingly pleasant as it mixed with the juices of the peach. You licked your lips and looked into his eyes, taking another bite. And another. And another.

Pope watched in admiration and concern as you finished the peach. You relished every bite, moaning in delight at the taste. There was a look in your eye when you glanced at him through your eyelashes between each bite. It told him, “You're mine. Body, heart, and soul. All of it's mine. I want to consume all of you and I want you to consume all of me.” It was the strangest display of devotion he had ever seen and he was enamored.

When there was no more fruit, you licked your hands clean, paying no mind to the fact that you must have resembled some sort of animal licking themselves clean.

“Can I use your bathroom?” You asked, displaying your sticky hands. Pope blinked at you and nodded, opening his bedroom door and leading you to the bathroom.

The only thing that worried Pope was your silence. You weren't saying anything. Usually you were pretty social and friendly with the members of the church but here you were skittish. He raised his arm to lean against the doorway and you practically flinched. He almost didn't want to move at all for fear of scaring you off.

That's how the two of you end up sitting on the edge of his bed in silence.

“You want to be a coroner.” You said.

“Huh?” Your sudden statement startled Pope. “Oh, yeah. I do. How do you know?”

You pointed at the books on his desk, books regarding forensic pathology. “I read this one.” You picked up Deadhouse: Life in a Coroner's Office.

“For class?” He asked and watched you shake your head.

“When I was a kid I thought Genesis 3:19- for dust you are and to dust you shall return- was like an incantation to disintegrate dead bodies at funerals. I asked my dad but he got mad at me. Death fascinates me.” You're looking at your hands, afraid that Pope thinks you're weird like everyone else does. When you look at him, he's smiling at you.

“When I was a kid, it took me like a week to grasp the concept of depth. My dad made me kill a fish because I kept asking questions.” Pope could vividly remember Heyward explaining how once you're dead, you have no more thoughts. There is no more you. 8 year old Pope threw up at the thought of there not being any him, but mostly at the feeling of the fish going limp in his little hands.

“Are you-?”

“Do you want to-”

The two of you said at the same time. “Go ahead.” Pope nodded, encouragingly.

“Do you want to come over for dinner?” You turned your body towards him.

“With your family?”

You shook your head. “It’s my parent's anniversary. They just left for the weekend. Took the jet.”

The fact that your parents could fly somewhere privately while his neighbors weren't making enough to eat bothered Pope but he swallowed his pride. You weren't like that. At least he hoped you weren't like that. To be honest, he didn't know what to think but nevertheless he nodded his head. “Yeah. I’ll come- go! I’ll go over for dinner.”

“Promise?” You stuck your pinky out and he didn't skip a beat interlocking his with yours.

“I promise.”

“Great.” You stood up. “I should go. See you tonight. 7 o'clock.” And you left without another word, leaving Pope sitting on the edge of his bed.

“So are you gonna fuck her?”

“Dude, not cool.” Kie jabbed JJ’s ribs with a pointy elbow. Against Pope’s better judgment, he was driving the HMS to the boat wreck.

“Sorry, are you gonna have premarital sex and condemn her soul to hell?” JJ earned himself another elbow, this time from John B.

“She's not that kinda girl.” Pope murmured, not wanting to engage in another normal conversation turned vulgar. He wasn't even sure why he brought it up to JJ of all people.

“I bet she could be.” JJ seemed to be concocting mental images of you, probably inspired by his memory of your skirt blowing upwards. “If I had a golden opportunity like you Pope, I would.”

“She would never let you touch her.” Kie rolled her eyes.

“You ever hear of God’s Loophole?”

“Don't talk about her like that.” Pope shook his head as he steered the HMS Pogue through the marsh. “I actually like her so we need to be done with this before 7.”

“Who would have thought? The boy’s got feelings.” John B slid his arm over Pope's shoulder. “Park her riiiight here bubba. Kie, you got the scuba?”

“This is empty. You took empty tanks?” Kie looked at John B, exasperated. “This one's a quarter full.”

Pope was late.

You were, understandably, upset. When 7:01 came, you gave him some grace. Everyone's a little late now and then, even you had made your family late for church so if he was 10 minutes late it wasn't a big deal.

You watched the clock tick past 7:30 and then it was 8 and your feelings were hurt. You put in all the effort of making dinner, you even made peach cobbler and bought ice cream. You couldn't understand what could possibly be keeping him away after he promised he would come.

It was 8:30 when you heard the rapid sound of shoes slapping the cement of your driveway. Pope paused to catch his breath before pushing the door bell.

Ding-

You swung the door open before the bell could finish. All your sadness had turned to anger. “What do you want?”

“I’m sorry-”

“For standing me up? For making a promise you couldn't keep?” You cut him off, furrowing your brow angrily.

“Can I explain?” You rose your brows, signaling him to continue talking. “First of all, I’m really sorry. I didn't mean to be this late but me and my friends had a… mission to complete. It got dangerous and that's what held me up. I promise I wouldn't stand you up.”

“A mission? What kind of mission?”

“It's better that you don't know.”

“Do you think I’m stupid?” You ask, scoffing.

“No- No, of course not.”

“I know everyone thinks I’m just this naive little girl but I’m not.”

“I know you're not-” Pope genuinely tried to respond. His perception of you changes with every conversation you have.

“Really? Because you're treating me like I don't know who you hang out with. Like I don't know the kind of stuff JJ and John B get into. Do you just not trust me?”

Pope took a deep breath and looked to the sky before looking back into your eyes. “Me and my friends found a boat wreck yesterday. Scooter Grubbs boat wreck. John B got scuba gear to check the thing out. We almost got caught by the cops because the marsh is supposed to be closed but we were fine. Everything was fine until these two dudes chase us through the marsh. They're shooting at us- the only reason we get away is because of Kie. Anyways, John B found a duffel bag and we thought it was drugs but it was his fathers compass- you know Big John. But we're trying to figure out what the he- what the heck his fathers compass was doing on that boat. I didn't want to come over to your house in clothes I was almost shot in so I showered and then ran here but-” He smells himself. “I kinda stink now. Yeah. I think that’s it.”

You're staring at him with those big, curious eyes and not saying anything so he drops to his knees and takes your hands. He was pretty frantic during his explanation and it was showing with every deep breath he took. “Pope?”

“Please give me another chance.” He squeezes your hands. “Please.”

You felt both pity and attraction to his desperate begging. “You don't need to beg, I forgive you.” You pull him up. “Come in.”

Pope closed the door behind himself as he followed you inside. Your home was very simply elegant. The furniture looked like it was straight out of a catalog and there was even a chandelier in the middle of the living room. In the kitchen there were stained glass windows that looked expensive. Not to mention how massive the house was, two stories and you didn't have any siblings. He couldn't help but wonder, how could a doctor and a preacher pull this off?

“Are you hungry?” You asked. “I made pozole- a soup.”

“Yeah, please.”

“Are you hurt?” You asked, looking at him with a clean bowl in your hand.

“What? No. No, I’m fine.” Pope took a seat at the end of the table.

“Are you okay?” Pope paused and thought about it for a second before nodding. “Okay.” You nodded back and served him a bowl. You set it in front of him and he dug in, savoring the taste. “This is really good.” He spoke in between spoonfuls. You sat on his right side.

“It's a traditional dish from Mexico. The Aztecs would make the soup with human flesh and participate in ritualistic cannibalism.” You said in your soft voice as if you were talking about the weather. “I used pork. I made the red version but you can also make it green. It's really good.”

Pope nodded, taking in all the information you just gave him. “Some cannibals say that human flesh tastes really similar to pork, so good choice?”

A smile broke across your face and you laughed. “I made peach cobbler too.”

“You didn't have to do all this.” Pope started.

“I wanted to. I like you, Pope.” You leaned your cheek on your hand and gazed into his eyes. Pope felt like you were trying to see into his soul. “I thought I made it obvious.”

“You did- I like you too.” Pope wiped his hands on his pants nervously. “I just-”

“I know. I came on really strong. You're probably confused.”

“Yes. No. Well, yes.” Pope argued with himself and you found it endearing. “I just have a lot of questions.”

“I’ll try to answer them.” You responded, reaching across the table to grab his hand.

Pope licked his lips and nodded, all the things he was thinking of asking you suddenly disappearing from his mind. “I’ll make a list.”

You nod. “Okay. Are you done?” He nods and you take his bowl, washing it in the sink.

Having been shot at like 3 hours ago, he surprisingly felt relaxed. It wasn't your house, he felt ill at ease in houses that didn't look like anyone lived there. It was you.

“Can I show you my room?”

He followed you up the stairs.

You walked down a hallway, dragging your fingertips along the wall until you stopped in front of a door. You opened the door and glanced at him over your shoulder with a playful look. “Come in.”

He stepped inside and it was like another world. Your room had its own atmosphere. Your fluffy white sheets were adorned with colorful, embroidered flowers, you had a collection of stuffed animals, and there was a cross right above your bed with a rosary hanging off of it. Your vanity was made of wood and intricately carved with delicate floral designs, bottles of perfume, skincare, and other things sat neatly organized atop. On your bedside table there was a statue of the virgin Mary, a pair of reading glasses, a lamp, and 2 books. This was your little world, a sanctuary.

“Solito?” Pope read the title of one of the books.

“It's a memoir. The author immigrated from El Salvador when he was 9 all by himself. It’s about his journey across 2 borders to be reunited with his family. It's a really good read.” You sat on the edge of your bed, looking up at him.

“It sounds good. Have you finished it?”

“Almost.” You shook your head. “I’m at the part where he gets caught coming into the US. It reminded me of the bible, when they came to arrest Jesus.”

Pope had never seen you so passionate while speaking, he was ashamed at how much it turned him on listening to you compare the memoir to the bible.

You, on the other hand, were feeling nervous at the way Pope was looking at you. He nodded his head and leaned in while you spoke, licking his lips. It made you squeeze your thighs together. “Pope?”

He blinked and sort of snapped out of the trance you had him in. “Yeah?”

“Can I kiss you?” You asked, voice dropping to a whisper. He nodded and you scooted closer, until

your thighs were touching his. Angling your body towards his, you lean in. One of Pope’s hands reached out to cradle the side and back of your neck while the other held your face. You closed your eyes, pliant in his hands, letting him capture your lips in a kiss.

You practiced kissing a lot. The back of your hand, stuffies, and round, smooth surfaces taught you how to move your lips in an amorous manner. It was nothing like how you thought it would be. He was gentle, but commanding. His thumb gently rubbed your cheek as he led the kiss. He wasn't too harsh or too gentle, he matched your pace and guided you in a way that made you want him more.

You felt his hands on you and you wanted more. Bravely, you put your hands on his shoulders and swung a knee over his lap, effectively straddling his lap. “Hey…” Pope murmured against your lips but you silenced him with a kiss. You dropped your hips, resting your weight on his thighs.

You pulled back just enough to whisper. “Hi.” With just the right movement, Pope’s boner was pressing right against your clit through his pants and your panties. You let out a whimper when one of his hands dropped to your waist, squeezing the flesh gently, and the other kept a firm grip on the back of your neck. Your mind went to all the places Pope could take you if he just gave in and it motivated your movement.

Within 15 minutes of being alone in your room with Pope, you were dry humping him like it was the only thing keeping you alive. Your wetness pooled in your panties and Pope could feel it through his pants. “Wait-” Pope murmured against your lips but it was no use. You were bucking your hips against his with vigor, occasionally using his shoulder as stability to grind down harder on him. You needed him over, under, and inside of you.

Pope was unsure of how he managed to last as long as he did with the pressure of your body weight pressing against him deliciously. Whenever he managed to open his eyes, you were staring at the wall where he knew your cross was. It unsettled him a little, your tendency to come onto him in religious settings, but he chose not to think about that and focus on the noises you were making.

The noises you were making sounded like music and Pope knew he was close. He began bucking his hips up against you and you let out a strangled moan, dropping your head against his shoulder. Your lips grazed against his neck and you were whining his name like it was a prayer.

And then you stopped.

You gasped and pushed yourself off of him, standing in front of him while he was still lying back, breathing heavily. You were breathing heavily too, but you had a crazed look in your eye.

“What's wrong?” Pope propped himself up on his elbows, a concerned look on his face. “Was it me?”

“No! No, no. It wasn't you.” You pulled your skirt down back to its place, just above your knees. “It felt really good. I just- I always… Whenever I get to… that point I usually just stop.”

Pope blinked. “Why?”

You let out a sigh and sit back next to him. “I’m scared of what will happen. Orgasm in French is “the little death” and it's just this underlying fear I have that one day I’m going to have an orgasm and God's going to kill me for being sexually immoral and then I think about my mom or dad finding me dead with a pillow between my legs anmph-”

Pope cut you off with a kiss and you let him, grabbing onto his bicep. You let him lie you down on your bed and trail his hand down your body. “You trust me right?” You nodded and spread your legs to let his hand in. He used his free hand to push your skirt up and with his other he pulled your panties to the side. Your pussy looks divine, puffy and swollen, glistening and leaking for him.

The scientist in Pope wanted to pull your lips open and inspect every inch of you, but he resisted. He could always do it another time. “I want you to let go okay?”

“Pope?” You ask softly, hair fanned out under your head like a halo. He nods. “What if I pee?”

“It's okay. We’ll change your sheets.” Pope smiled and pressed a kiss to your lips at the same time as his middle finger sank into your core.

“Ahh…” You moaned into his mouth and spread your legs wider. His fingers were longer and thicker than yours and you only ever managed to get your own index finger in. He was touching spots you didn't know were inside you and once he added a second finger, you were moving your hips in time with his hand. You closed your eyes and laid your head against the mattress, dizzy from pleasure.

Pope felt you gushing all over his fingers and added a third, moving his other hand down to your clit.

Someone was talking. No- someone was begging. It took you a second to realize that it was you. Your core was on fire and you were holding on for dear life until he started rubbing your clit with his fingers still inside you. Now you were thrashing and bucking under him, letting a string of pleas fall from your lips.

“Please, God… Oh… Pope, Please! Oh, God! Pope!” Your moans only encouraged him, along with the obscene sound of his fingers fucking your messy little pussy open.

“Just let go, I got you.” Pope pressed hot, open mouthed kisses against your neck, curling his fingers inside you. He felt your body still underneath him and then your pussy started pulsing around his fingers. “That's it. Let it all out.”

Your hips trembled as he was still massaging you on the inside. You felt tears roll down your cheeks as you looked up at the cross on your wall. You felt like the holy spirit was inside of you, commanding you through your orgasm.

Pope removed his fingers with a reluctant whine from you. He trailed them up to your clit and rubbed it in circles, spreading your cum and wetness all over. “Do you want more?” He asked, still rubbing your clit while you were lying back with your eyes closed, chest rising and falling as you struggled to catch your breath. He spoke your name and you shrugged your dress straps off, revealing your breasts. Your fingers gently grazed your peaked nipples and you gave him those eyes.

He nodded and pushed your legs to your chest, lowering himself and attaching his mouth to your pussy. You squealed, giggling and jerking around a bit at the foreign sensation of his tongue exploring your sensitive clit.

Your giggles turned into high pitched moans as you held your knees to you, holding them open as wide as you could. He sloppily made out with your clit while you humped his face, letting out sobs when his teeth grazed you. “Oh, God… So good… So wet…” You whimpered when he spat on your clit.

You don't know how long he had you like that, tongue working your swollen clit while your pussy drooled against his chin. You reach orgasm again and let your knees go, trying to push Pope’s head away but he hooks his arms around your ass and pulls you closer. He's eating you like a man starved and its not long until you are crying out his name again and jerking wildly in his grasp.

He pulls away and rubs your tummy with one hand and your clit with the other through the aftershocks of your orgasm. “How do you feel?”

You took a deep breath and opened your eyes to look at your cross. Your eyes fell on him and you smiled. “Not afraid to die anymore.” You murmured and leaned back against your bed in bliss, curling into Pope’s side. “Do you want me to make you cum?” You ask, looking up at him.

“I already did.” Your eyes fell to the wet spot on his jeans, a mix of you and him. You erupted in giggles and Pope pinched your nipple, making you moan. “Meanie.”

edged u guys for long enough. moony babe, this one's for u @starfxkr

#lamb!reader #pope heyward #pope x lamb!reader #latina!reader

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darlingmbappe · 1 year

Text

The Loneliest [Epilogue] | Kylian Mbappé x Fem Reader

[Part One] [Part Two] [Part Three] [Part Four] [Epilogue]

Summary: A glimpse into your life with Kylian Mbappé.

Warnings: Smut, oral (male and female receiving), cussing, crying, pregnancy, badly google translated french, super cheesy (sorry not sorry), I feel like I got a little preachy at the end there but I feel like it fits, so it stayed in, 10.8k words so read when you have time to spare lmao. Let me know if I missed anything! – English is not my first language –

Masterlist

"You seriously need to get out of this place." Kylian grunted as he wiped his hands on a dirty hand towel, sweat shining on his forehead.

You scoff. "You're telling me." You leave the fruit you were slicing on the counter to lean over and quickly peck him on the lips. "Thanks for fixing the AC, babe."

"Don't thank me yet. I don't even know if I did any of that right." He chuckles, stealing a peach slice from the cutting board and popping it in his mouth.

Fair point. Though you felt the air finally blowing coolly on your sweaty neck, Kylian was absolutely not a handyman. But all you had to do was bat your lashes and he was game, taking his shirt off with a wink and throwing it at you jokingly.

Even after almost seven months of living in this shoebox, your landlord had only come once to replace your doorknob which promptly fell off the next day. Besides being absolute dog shit at his job, he's a creepy man. Always with a lingering stare and invasive questions. Kylian met him one time and assured you you didn't have to call that guy ever again, that he'd take care of any maintenance issues. You laughed out loud when he told you this which bruised his ego, but he's kept his word.

So far, he's successfully captured and released a rat, unsuccessfully repaired your ceiling fan, and more recently, accidentally sprayed himself in the face with a vicious stream of water while trying to fix your drippy kitchen faucet. He was pissed, but only for a second. Your unstoppable laughter cut right through his bad mood that was sure to explode out. Instead, you both shared a moment of wheezing, clutching your stomachs and clinging onto each other for balance.

It had been a good six months officially back together. Better than good. The relationship itself was easy. Of course it was easy… you knew him inside and out, and vice versa. You’d tried to keep your guard up, truly... but, whenever Kylain wrapped his large hand around your waist like he was now, you melted into him.

You continue slicing peaches and berries, Kylian's sweaty and shirtless body pressed behind you to look over your shoulder, resting his chin on your bone, placing only one kiss to the side of your neck to hear you giggle. The sweet sound was his absolute favorite since the moment he met you. The spot where your shoulder met your neck would scrunch into his face when his lips landed there — a useful piece of information he took advantage of ever since he discovered it.

“I have a knife in my hand, you know.” You warned playfully, making him squeeze you affectionately.

“Wow, I’m very scared.”

“You should be.” You set the knife down and turn in his arms, facing Kylian, only a couple inches away from his face. “I’m deadly.”

“That, you are.” He mumbled in a sultry tone, pressing forward to kiss you without hesitation, letting his hands begin to move on your hips, pulling your body directly into his.

You wrap your arms around his neck and move your mouth against his, careful not to touch him with your sticky fingers. He smiles against you, walking your entwined bodies backwards until his leg hits the couch, bringing you both down onto the soft cushions.

“Kylian!” You chuckled delightedly, pulling away from his face as you straddled his lap, his hands resting on your ass comfortably. “I’m making a tart.”

��Let’s make out first.” He dictated, biting his lip as his stare became needier.

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head with an adoring grin. “It won’t take me long to finish.”

“Me neither.” He joked, wiggling his eyebrows, defensively laughing as you smacked his arm at the comment.

You still haven’t had sex, not since before the break up. It wasn’t a precaution or punishment you intended on keeping for this long, but you wanted the timing to be perfect. You understand that this is quite a large amount of pressure to put on one single moment, but it’s a part of you you didn’t want to give away just yet. A safety net, of sorts. It had been almost eight months since that dreary night of your birthday. To some, that might seem like a long period to not have sex — but to you, the broken intimacy extends far past the parameters of time. You’d do it when you were sure you were ready.

Thankfully, Kylian accepted your decision and respected it, but refused to hold back his affections. Physically, he didn’t think he could. You were just so cute, so sexy, and exclusively his again.

You climbed off his lap, tusking at him as you walked away back into the kitchen. Not a far walk, but Kylian enjoyed the view nonetheless.

He wanted you so bad. Obviously, the amazing sex wasn’t even close to the sole reason for wanting you back… but he was just a man. An impressive man, yes. But still only a man. He could whine about it as much as he wanted to, but this was still your timeline and his fuck up.

You were stuck in a daydream as you began to roll the dough out. Your shitty oven preheated fourteen degrees hotter than your recipe called for, but the heat mechanism inside was as old as Paris itself. You’d had one too many under baked dishes until you finally figured it out. You made sure the line was drawn for handyman-Kylian when he needed to stick his head inside of an oven.

You were snapped out of your thoughts when the oven started to click. Now, you’re no expert, but that’s not something an oven should do. You and Kylian both locked eyes, a furrow of concern growing on both your faces as the clicking turned to rattling. Then, it began shaking, shaking until it plopped itself open like in a cartoon, the oven door breaking off completely and clanging on your floor, sending a wave of strong heat straight to your face.

“Jesus!” You jumped back and Kylian was pulling you away toward the front door in a millisecond.

“Stay there!” He yelled running back to the kitchen, carefully stepping around the heated door on the ground while avoiding the scorching air from the oven, turning the knob to turn it off hurriedly. He sprinted back to you as you both watched the oven calm itself, the laser red heaters inside slowly dwindling.

You stared at your kitchen with tears of frustration brimming your eyes, uniting your apron and throwing it down. “I fucking hate this place!” You crossed your arms, well aware your pout looked like a third graders.

Kylian hooked his arm around your shoulder, bringing your crying figure into his chest. “I know, amour. I know.”

Kylian felt waves of guilt in moments like these, knowing that if it weren’t for him, you’d be comfortable in your shared home, lavishly living like he wanted you to. Like you were meant to. He’d offered many times to at least let him pay for an upgrade, but the scowl alone let him know that he was not to do that. You made it clear that your life and his were to be separate until further notice. Even offering to buy you a new shower head was crossing that line, no matter how badly you wanted one that didn’t feel like you were being pissed on by an elderly man.

“How ‘bout we finish your tart at my place?” He murmurs, tilting your head up, wiping the tears away carefully. You nuzzled your nose back into his skin, nodding and sniffling.

He helped you place everything neatly in Tupperware containers while you made yourself an overnight bag.

You kept disposables at his place; toothbrush, extra face wash, makeup wipes… the sort of things that were replaceable in case anything went awry. But recently, you’d notice you’d leave your charger there accidentally, a couple of nice shirts or jeans. Though you scolded yourself for the carelessness, a part of you was happy your subconscious knew you’d be back there. The possibility of everything going to shit again wasn’t anywhere in sight, but you didn't want to jinx it.

His place always smelled the same. Woody, slightly floral, airy like the windows were always left open. Your place, on the other hand, always smelled of mildew, no matter how long you’d let fresh air in, how many candles you lit, how many air fresheners you bought. His home was evocative. Comforting. The perfect place to finish your tart.

“Can I help?” Kylian asked, taking yet another peach from your tray.

“Yeah, how about you stop stealing my ingredients?” You poked, sifting more flour on his countertop.

“But they taste so good.”

“Don’t care. Chef’s rules.” You shrug, pulling the bowl of fruit away from Kylian.

He clicked his tongue disapprovingly as you focused on making your desert, continuing to roll the dough out like you had been trying to do for the past hour. Suddenly, you felt a sharp whip on your ass.

“Ah!” You squeal, turning around and seeing Kylian wearing a shit eating grin and holding a kitchen towel innocently. “You whipped me!” You try and hold back a grin, but it slipped through.

Kylian shrugged. “You can’t prove anything.”

“Oh, you wanna mess with me?” You shake your head, taking the towel that was thrown over your shoulder and twisting it menacingly, instantly sending Kylian on defense with his own towel.

You both were set in position, just waiting for the other to make a move. You tried your luck and it worked, whipping him right on the leg.

“Putain!” He curses, immediately retaliating but missing when you step back. You tried again, hitting him in the butt as he attempted to run away, laughing when you heard his playful scream. “Oh, now you’re really gonna get it, mon chérie.”

You both psyched each other out on opposite ends of the kitchen island, giggling at every move you made. This was Kylian's game. Having professional practice at this daily, he caught you when you tried to make a run for the living room, strong arms wrapping around your waist.

“No!” You cackled, doing your best to hit him with the rag as your limbs went weak with joy, letting him carry your full body weight down to the couch, your head landing on the cushion as he straddled you. He poked your sides, successfully tickling you into a silent laughing mess, big intakes of air were few and far between until you could pull yourself together enough to wave your white flag. “Okay! Okay! I give up! You win!”

He stopped, chuckling at you who was still calming down, arms protectively covering your stomach. Kylian was absolutely filled with adoration at this moment. He loved seeing you so happy, so candid, so full of life. He loved knowing he played a part in that. That he made you laugh. He was responsible for the now subdued giggles that found their way up from your chest by their own accord.

He couldn’t help himself. He leaned down and kissed your lips so sweetly that it made him dizzy… it made you dizzy. You placed your gentle hands on his face, pulling him in deeper, scratching the nape of his neck and pulling back enough to watch the goosebumps flood his skin.

“You still love when I do that.” You mumble, voice quiet and wispy.

He hummed, turning his head to kiss your wrist. “I just love you.”

Your heart thumped at his affirmation. It did every time. “I love you too.”

With nothing else left to say, you pulled him back into you, letting the passion take over as your leg wrapped up and around his waist to pull him closer.

He might as well have been devouring you, soaking in every ounce of love you presented him with. His tongue lapped yours, hands roaming up and down your sides, feeling the hums you sang in his entire body like electricity.

His hips began to grind gently on yours, lost in the sweet kisses you bombarded him with as he moved down your neck, leaving purposeful hickeys on it as proof that he was there. Proof that you were his. He began to get hard, something he’d usually try and hide to not make you feel bad about the no sex thing, but he didn’t this time. He was too caught up in this moment with you.

Without much warning, you flipped both of your bodies around, now straddling his taken-aback figure. You leaned down and pressed one single long kiss on his lips before pulling off completely, standing and walking away.

You left Kylian on his back, a disappointed look on his features as he caught his breath, your body nowhere near his anymore. He wanted to fully feel you again so badly, already making a plan to excuse himself to the bathroom for approximately 5-10 minutes to take care of himself.

Before he could, a piece of clothing landed on his body. He looked at it confused, leaning up and over the back of the couch to see you standing halfway up the staircase, topless, a flirtatious smirk dancing across your features. Once you saw the realization hit him, you giggled and jogged up the stairs.

He only let himself sit in shock for a second before he jolted up, making long strides toward the staircase, following the trail of clothing. Your shorts, your socks, until he reaches the doorknob that you hung your bra on. He took them all in his hands, slowly opening the door.

There you were — revealed, laying with your arms propped up, facing his direction in nothing but a pair of underwear, your figure shining in the afternoon sun that was steeping through the open window. The backlighting provided a luminous halo around your head, eyes traveling down to your hardened nipples, your navel, your legs — you looked completely angelic. His limbs lost the ability to hold up your strung clothing anymore, letting them drop to his feet as he exhaled, eyes hooded with need.

“Shut the door, baby.”

He does as he’s told, closing it with his foot so he wouldn’t have to turn away from your practically naked body. As he walked to you, he shed his own clothing, leaving himself only in boxer briefs when he reached you, laying on top of you. He wastes no time kissing you, showing you how desperate he is for this moment to go on.

His left hand held his weight up as his right traced a gentle path from your thigh to your neck, pulling your face ever closer to his, noses smushed against each other.

You whimpered, feeling wetness pool between your legs, moving your hips against his now obvious erection. You placed your thumb under the hem of his boxers, tugging them down as far you could until he rolled over on his back and pulled them down the rest of the way, erection slapping his stomach. His eyes were wide as you straddled him again, placing your warm hands on his bare chest.

“You’re so sweet to me.” You praised, voice like candy but extremely sultry. You pecked his bicep. “And patient.” You kissed his chest. “And thoughtful.” Just above his belly button. “You’re… everything to me.” You sigh, kissing almost the base of his wanting member, keeping eye contact as you grab it, kissing his red tip.

He whined at the contact, caressing your hair. “Bébé…” He wanted to say so much more, but when he saw your lips wrap around his head, all he could do was throw his head back into the pillow and lift it just as fast, not wanting to miss a second of this moment.

You took him down slowly, twisting your hand up and down with slight pressure, tracing the familiar veins as you went on. His moans were pure filth, just getting filthier the deeper you took him. You were proud of yourself for not losing your deepthroating abilities as his tip went down your throat and your lips met his base, massaging his balls as he groaned into the air.

You pulled back and flattened your tongue against his slit, using the tip of your tongue to circle around it stiffly. “Mon dieu…” He hissed, breathy and laced with unadulterated pleasure.

Finally, you gave into your craving – fully realizing how much you’d missed having him in the palm of your hand like this. Taking the entirety of his length all the way back in without warning made his hips jolt into you, causing you to gag but not pull back. His eyes were fixed on yours and how tears formed on your lashes. Your mouth is so full of him, bursting at the seams as your lips touched his base. The way you tried to take him deeper with a slow shake of the head… it all drove him mad. He felt like he was under your spell.

The shallow breaths and whines Kylian sounded out made you soak your panties even more. You felt as if he were close, but you didn’t want him to come. Not yet.

You pulled him out with a pop, wiping the corners of your mouth as he wasted no time sitting up. His gaze didn’t falter as he watched how you stood on your knees on the bed, straddling his legs, looking down at Kylian who made eye contact as his hands were placed flat on the outsides of your thighs. Slowly, he pulled your panties down. He was practically face to face with your pussy but felt the need to look at you, your eyes, the way you bit your lip. He finally looked forward and groaned appreciatively at the sight, seeing you glisten for him.

“You’re perfect.” He said almost to himself, putting his hands on the round of your ass to get you to shuffle into his face. Once you were close enough, he buried himself in your slit immediately as you grabbed his shoulders and dug your nails in.

He tilted back to get the perfect angle for his tongue to meet your clit, expertly moving his tongue back and forth, up and down, every direction with consistency and pressure. He couldn’t get enough of your taste, feeling like an addict who’s relapsed on his drug of choice.

He couldn’t be positive that this wasn’t another wet dream as he watched your chest heave above him, the light now hitting you directly. It illuminated every goosebump, every divot, every curve, every stretch mark, every bit of your skin. He didn’t even know if he was blinking, taking a mental video of the way you looked right now for later, whenever he was alone.

Your legs shook as he added a finger up into you, then another to accompany it. “Holy… fuck… yes!” You couldn’t keep the moans in if you tried, your mind blank from anything but the thought, why the hell did I wait this long again? You’d know the answer in a heartbeat if Kylian hadn’t begun scissoring his digits, curling them like he had a map telling him exactly where to go.

“Oh, god… Kylian… yes! Right there… feels so good, baby.” You blabbered, maybe not as coherent as you meant for it to come out, but Kylians ears perked at any noise he could get out of you, pressing his face lower and deeper into your pussy. He continued to eat you out, fingering you mercilessly. His own moans were blubbered, sending the vibrations through you anyway, amplifying the sensation of him being tucked between your legs.

“Ky… fuck!” Your voice shook along with your legs as you neared your climax. “You’re gonna make me cum so hard, baby.” You grabbed the back of his head and pushed it harder against you. He wanted to tell you how he wanted to feel you cum all over his face, on his tongue, on his fingers… but couldn’t find it in him to pull away from your sweetness.

Instead, he laid down on his back, doing his best to pull you with him to not break his movements. You let him pull your body down to effectively sit on his face, eyes rolling back at the increased pressure as he tugged you deeper.

“Holy shit.” You groan, grabbing the headboard with a white fist, peeking down at Kylian who had his hands wrapped around your upper thighs, his eyes the only visible portion of his face from where he drowned himself in you.

His long, long fingers were relentless at speeds you’d only attribute to him, tongue lapping perfectly in sync, brutally abusing your sensitive bundle of nerves over, and over, and over, and over…

“Oooh, fuuuck!” Your high pitched voice elongated and wobbly as your orgasm nearly brought spots to your eyes, sending waves of pleasure through your body. You shook uncontrollably as Kylian continued to lap up everything you gave him, fingers still working inside of you until you instinctively used any strength left in you to pull off of him, moving your hips lower until your upper body rested completely on top of his.

Kylian breathed heavily on his back, feeling so accomplished and satisfied, no matter how painfully hard he still was. He was surprised he didn’t blow his load watching and listening to you scream his name. Even now he could cum with the feeling of your wetness bare on his skin and your lazy kisses on his peck, shaking fingers reaching down to tangle your hands together.

Without saying anything, you pulled yourself up, shifting your weight until you were lined up with his cock, pressing your wet core down on it and grinding against him.

“Ah…” He groaned, shutting his eyes at the friction. “I really am not gonna last if you do that, bébé.”

You bit your lip and smirked lovingly down at him, untangling your hands and used them to run up and down his bare chest. Feeling his muscles flex and heave was so intimate, wanting, needing to feel every inch of his skin with your own.

You lifted your hips once more, using one of your hands to line up his girthy member to your weeping core, letting it prod you open like he has hundreds of times before. The tightness from your last orgasm, the slick mix of his own spit and your cum, the feeling of finally getting to bury himself inside you once more… to think it all felt elusive to him just six months ago. To think he could have lost you forever.

His brows furrowed as you took him to the hilt, resting there to let yourself adjust to his massive size. Kylian looked to where your bodies connected, biting his lip to keep from moaning at just the sight. His hands grabbed your ass cheeks as you slowly began to move. The stretch was perfect, the pain from it even heightened the sensation of the intimate act.

“Fuck.” Kylian breathed as you found a slow rhythm, bouncing up and down on his dick.

He began to meet you halfway with his thrusts, hypnotized by the way your tits bounced in his face as you leaned forward. He hummed in pleasure, reaching out in front of him to grab two handfuls of your breasts, tweaking your nipples under his fingers, tugging at the supple skin.

The sun beamed on you like a goddess, as he continued to watch you in perfect clarity. The noises in the room were filthy, moans and grunts, skin slapping together, low curses that groveled out straight from your chests.

Your legs became tired and you leaned forward more, bodies pressed up against one another completely as you moved your hips against his, feeling your second orgasm beginning to brew inside your lower belly.You buried your face in Kylians neck as he held your body tightly, hugging your torso as you continued to move back and forth.

He could tell your muscles were sore from riding him, so he shifted his hips up slightly. “You’re so amazing.” He praised into your ear, kissing your shoulder as he propped his legs up. “I love you so much.”

Kylian, though not on top, wanted to have some of the control. Make you feel so good. He positioned himself perfectly to fuck up into you… and he did.

The first thrust was deep and hard. “Oh, Ky… oh… fuck!” You moan out, pulling back from his neck to look him in the eye. The second thrust was the same. And the third. And the fourth. His pace was ruthless and tender, perfectly rough as the drag of his dick going in and out, poking and poking that spot that made your toes curl into themselves.

You cussed out, moaned out his name — the vibrato of your moans matching the continuing thrusts into you that didn’t falter, didn’t stop, didn’t hesitate. Not even when you saw the familiar scrunch between his eyebrows raise up.

“You gonna cum inside me, baby?” You heaved, not knowing how much longer you’d be able to hold your own climax.

He screws his eyes shut, trying to form a word but just grunting instead, nodding quickly. You leaned down and kissed him, gently biting his lower lip and tugging it.

He held you tighter, leaning up to press his forehead to yours, lips and noses brushing against each other, breaths becoming one as your opened mouth pants fanned the others face. “Cum with me, amour.”

“Mhm.” You hummed out a moan of agreement, actual words being much more difficult.

Staring dotingly into the eyes of the man you love, letting him make love to you… Bare and vulnerable together. Tethered to each other through years of good humor and solid devotion. In that moment, you two felt unbreakable. Whether that was true or not didn’t matter. Not even a little bit. You’d weathered the storm and found out it was impossible to survive it without the other. That feeling of true love translating into a physical act, knowing that the emotions you held for each other were authentic and reciprocated was a feeling you’d carry with you for the rest of your life.

You felt the warmth spread in your lower abdomen as you curled into Kylians sweaty body. “I’m gonna cum,” you pant, bracing his shoulders.

“Me too. Fuck.” He cursed, not wanting this moment to end. He continued his thrusts, watching the pleasure and torture grow on your face by the second. He thrusts again, again, again, again, until he knew he couldn’t stop himself anymore. “Cum for me, bébé.”

You cried out into his mouth. He did the same, squeezing your body against his so tightly. Simultaneously, your orgasms ripped through your bodies. Your walls shook around him as he spurted his hot seed inside you, effectively painting your walls white as he fucked it deeper into you. He did his best to keep his eyes open, needing to see how you fell apart… It was magic.

His thrusts slowed until they halted altogether. Your ears rang at the silence that followed the passion, slowly regaining the ability to listen to the synchronized breathing, the rapid heartbeats that thumped loudly against the others chest, the faint ambiance of the outside world you both had forgotten about, only focused on the one true love in front of you… in front of him.

“Kylian?” You heaved after a moment of basking in each other's presence, feeling his hand move up and up your bare back to hold the back of your head against his chest.

“Yes, mon amour?”

You paused, smiling and kissing his chest tenderly. “I don’t think I’m ever gonna finish that tart.”

Five months later

“Okay. Fine. I’ll hand it to you.” You sigh, hand resting on your hips as you try and catch your breath. “This was definitely worth the hike.”

Kylian blew a raspberry as he set the blanket down on the tall grass. “That was barely a hike.”

“It was a steep hill.”

“You didn’t even carry anything.” He pointed out, setting the basket down and gesturing to it. “That shit is heavy.”

“You packed it.” You respond, walking over and sitting down on the checkered material and shuffling through the items in the wicker basket. “Oh, damn. Ky. I thought this was going to be like… ziplock baggies and canned wine kind of picnic.”

“Canned wine?” He repeated, shocked and almost offended.

“It’s a thing.” You shrugged, pulling out the glass tins full of food, opening them, spreading them around neatly as he sat next to you and helped by lighting a candle he brought to keep away the bugs.

He pulled out a bottle of cabernet, wiggling his eyebrows at you. “Tonight is for real wine.” He stated, uncorking the bottle with the corkscrew.

He really thought of everything.

You thanked him as he handed you a stemless glass full of red liquid. “You’re so cute.” You mumble, watching him as he opened the container with pastries, neatly organized, somehow unaffected by the long drive and trek up to this spot. A light laugh escaped his lips, shy under your loving gaze. You squeeze his hand for a second before you request, “let me take a picture of you, honey.”

It obviously wasn’t a suggestion as you shuffled opposite of him, positioning yourself behind your cell phone.

Kylian smiled, squinting slightly at the direct sunlight of the lowering sun. The captured moment couldn’t be more sweet, feeling a goofy giggle rise from your chest looking at your man digitally captured. It couldn’t possibly compare to the actual sight, but it was a close second.

“Adorable.” You go back to your spot, now leaning some of your body weight on his shoulder. “Let's eat. I’m starving.”

He chuckled, having heard that from you the second he began driving from the small rental cabin in the French countryside to this spot. A secluded hillside facing west, painted with wildflowers and tall grass. He felt around discreetly in his pocket, finding that the small box was still secured safely in there.

He handed you a cloth napkin when he saw you devouring one of the finger sandwiches and using your hand as a plate. You thanked him with a giggle, not even embarrassed about the glob of mustard you felt at the corner of your mouth.

You both carried casual conversations while you munched on the packed dinner; listening to his stories about the team, asking about family members, laughing at inside jokes, gossiping about people at your work… domestic conversations that flowed like a river downstream.

The way you gently brushed away a crumb on the corner of his mouth… how you’d take a bite of his pastry even though you had your own… watching your nose scrunch up and your head tilt back when he made you laugh… when he shielded you from the gentle spring breeze and you tucked yourself deeper into him until eventually, the pair of you might as well have combined into one. It was all so comfortable.

He noticed as you became distracted from the conversation, the clouds in the sky whisking together as the colors change catching your attention more than his locker room story.

“It's so beautiful here..." You mumble softly, trying to conserve this serene moment. You romanticized this kind of life; settling down in the French countryside; acres of open land and rolling hills, living off of homegrown vegetables and freshly squeezed lemonade.

Kylian pulled your shoulder down into his body, letting you use him as a headrest until you shuffled your way in between his open legs, falling into his warm embrace as if it was chiseled just for you by whatever higher power was out there.

He wrapped a snug and affectionate hug around your waist, pressing his cheek to the side of your head. Solely your presence in this time was enough to make him yearn to grow roots; plant himself deep into this soil with you in his embrace. The old oak trees that were scattered across the land were calling him to settle down with them. They reached toward the sun, strong and tall, branching out with leaves that danced happily in the sporadic gusts of air, content in their growth, their place, their permanence.

Ever since he'd known you, he knew you had a thing for sunsets. You would point them out so frequently as if it were your first time ever seeing one. His fondest memory is winning your love back while watching the long rays of sun break through the clouds in his Paris home, the home you finally share again. Well over a year has passed, but he remembered every detail like it just happened the day before. That's why this was the place he'd ask you – again – to marry him. This time, he'd see it through. He'd watch you walk down the aisle. He'd kiss you after declaring his love in front of everyone. He'd spend the rest of his days cherishing you, growing a family of your own, reminding you how perfect you are to him.

He kissed your temple, warmth spreading when you pressed into his lips, hearing you take a deep breath in. He took one also, preparing himself for what’s to come. "Come on. I gotta show you something."

He stood up and helped you along, grabbing your hand and entwined your fingers, leading you down the hill, walking hand in hand for a couple minutes. You saw it immediately, even from yards away; the field of wildflowers that sprung up from the ground, invading the land for miles was impossible to ignore. The untouched area leaves them at peace to grow and be beautiful, insusceptible to the wrath of lawn mowers and weed-wackers.

As their petals reflected the gold rays of the sun, the light changed the colors of your skin. He couldn’t focus on the deep warming hues above him like you were, completely distracted from the sight. The sun kissed the horizon and he could see its mirrored image in your eyes. He decided that was a much better way to experience this.

“Kylian.” You breathed, your voice airy and dreamy. Your eyes couldn’t be torn away as you walked into the field of flowers, feeling the stems tickle your ankles. Kylian stayed in place, your hands parting when you walked too far away. “Look at the sky.”

He found himself in this situation before, having to disobey your request once again as his eyes were preoccupied. He wished he was a painter so he could recreate this scene and look at it forever; put it up in a museum with a silver plaque that told everyone how much you mean to him — though he was sure that even with the largest of vocabularies, the words to truly explain the way you made him feel didn’t exist. It was allconsuming. Overpowering. Unreal.

He thought about the last time he was in this position – with a ring burning a hole in his pants pocket. The sweat beads on his forehead were obvious that night, having to use his suit jacket’s sleeve to keep them out of his eyes. He remembered how all of your peers cheered when you said yes, the rooftop restaurant rented out for only your close friends and family. It was nice experiencing that blissful moment with others, but today felt calmer. Like the eyes of the world couldn’t reach you. The pressure of it all was still heavy, but his soul was still as water in a pond, only riddled by the distant worry of the inevitable day's end — healed rapidly by the knowledge he’d have you in his arms every day after.

You faced the horizon still, back turned to him when his knee had found the earth below him, his fingers clutching the pocket sized box. He should be nervous now like he had been all week, overthinking every integral moment of the rebuild of your relationship — but he knew right now, in this moment, in his heart, it’d be you and him forever. Just as the universe intended.

“Isn’t it perfect?” The words escaped your lips just as you twirled around, not expecting to have to look down to meet your lover's adoring gaze. You gasp, putting your hand on your chest at the man on one knee.

You two shared a second of silence, throats clogged with weeps that waited patiently to break free inside your throats, hearts beating at the same pace, bound to each others’ without the promise of a ring.

“In all my years, I’ve found many things that make me happy in this life. But none of them compare to you.” The emotion of it all brought tears to his eyes, matching your glossy ones. “From the first moment I saw you, I was yours. Every day since, I fall deeper in love with you. I promise you, I will fight for our love until my last day on earth. I’ll work hard to keep a smile on your face, because no one can make me smile like you can. I’m so in love with you. I can’t wait to grow old with you. To grow a family. To spend the rest of our lives by each other's side. The good and the bad.”

Your hand covered your mouth, but he saw the smile reach your eyes, trails from your crying running down each finger. You sniffled into your palm, Kylian's beaming and hopeful smile radiating brighter than any sunset ever has.

He flipped open the box, still fixated on only you, and you only him. “You’re the one I’ve been waiting for my whole life.” His voice cracked as the words escaped him, speaking directly from the deepest part of his soul. “Will you marry me?”

You clutched your heart once more and stumbled toward Kylian, getting down on your own knees to be at his level. You grabbed his face softly, staring into his sparkling irises, giggling happily through the tears, wiping his own with your thumbs.

“Yes!” You rejoiced, words laced in pure honey, kissing his lips aimlessly. “Of course I’ll marry you, Kylian.”

You wrap your arms around his neck, both your faces fitting delightfully in the crooks of each other's necks, wetting the skin with the endless waterfalls that fell freely.

You pulled back, kissing him once more. He kept his head close to yours as you both finally looked down at the ring inside the box.

“Oh my god, Ky.” You gasped, allowing him to take your left hand in his. “It’s gorgeous.”

His eyes wrinkled at the corners as he kissed your ring finger before sliding on the band, fitting perfectly.

“They’re the same diamonds.” He explained, referring to your first engagement ring while you took in every detail of your newest and most permanent piece of jewelry. “It didn’t feel right to give you the same ring but I couldn’t get rid of it, so...”

He had spent months with a designer figuring out the different cuts and bands to symbolize a second beginning for an eternity with you.

“It’s perfect.”

You both stood together, heads leaning into each other until the trees turned to shadows. The moon's faint blue light provided no guidance for finding your way back to the car, yet neither of you grew any concern over it, finding security in entwined fingers and shared laughter.

Seven years later

“I’m definitely balding.” Kylians voice echoed from the hallway over the soft music playing.

You shake your head with a chuckle, arms tired from rolling and kneading a ball of dough. “No you’re not. You’ve been looking at the back of your head too much, hun.”

He saunters into the kitchen holding his phone out at arms length toward you. “Look.” You stare at his screen displaying an awkwardly self-taken picture of the crown of his head, only slightly less hair on the top than a couple years ago. “See?”

You shrug at him as he continues to analyze the image, pinching it to zoom in. “I think the back of your head looks just as handsome as the day I met you.”

He clicks his tongue, setting the phone down as if that’ll make him stop thinking about his inevitable aging. Kylian leans against the counter next to you, obviously eyeing the strawberries you’d just washed inside a bowl in the sink.

“Nuh-uh. Don’t even think about it.” You read his intentions, Kylian being a notorious and shameless ingredient thief.

A playful smirk found its way to his lips as his hand inched closer to the pile of fruit, watching and waiting for the reaction that he craved to get from you.

“Kylian…” You warned in a whiney tone as he snatched one by the stem, bringing it to his grinning lips. He made a whole show of taking a bite of it, humming and closing his eyes like it’s the best thing he had ever tasted, even rubbing his belly comically for dramatic effect. You sigh, biting back a grin that would only fuel his shenanigans. “I’m gonna have to start putting out decoy ingredients covered in hot sauce, or something.”

He smiles wider, showing off the creases in his face that are now permanent. Though he felt insecure at times about his aging skin that portrayed wrinkles even in his most relaxed state, you couldn’t love them more — a souvenir from decades of laughing and happiness. Proof of a joyous life. It’d formed your semi-new habit of kissing the crows feet at the corners of his eyes, loving how it made them more prominent as he’d grin at the simple act of adoration.

Kylian extends the other half of his bitten fruit to your mouth, feeding you the rest of the strawberry, feeling your lips brush against the pads of his fingers.

You hummed at the sweet juice, savoring the flavor. “I don’t know how your mom’s strawberries always taste so perfect.”

“I’m pretty sure she gives us the best ones.”

“She’s so cute.” You praise, washing the flour off your hands. “When are they getting here, again?”

Kylian looks at his watch. “Uh, like seven, I think.”

You nod, seeing that you’re cutting it close on timing to finish the tart, but it should give it enough time to chill once the crust is cooled off. Kylian made himself a snack as you put the crust in the oven, immediately beginning the clean up of the mess you've made with a big sigh.

While munching on a sandwich, your husband helped you by putting away the refrigerated items. You’d gotten used to the little things after all these years, like him cleaning the kitchen with you. He hated cleaning but simple things like that show love and respect. He never expected gratitude when he did these things, but you always showed him anyway.

Sometimes, you'd get to thinking about all the small acts like those that add up to keep you both feeling like equals in the relationship. Your heart just fills up, usually leading to you roughly grabbing Ky’s face and smushing your lips to his cheek, dramatically smacking loud kisses onto him with a flooding wave of appreciation for your significant other. It’d take him by surprise at the most random of times, but looked forward to your next smooch attack every time. When you’d get to looking at him for too long, sentiments you’ve collected through the years take over your brain like wildfire, needing to express your love in some physical manner before you explode.

Kylian’s more immediate with his affections. He’d have one thought and would have to share it with you that instant. Ranging from easy compliments when he’d wake up before you, claiming “I love your nose” from the deepest part of his soul; to “you’re really turning me on right now” when you ran your hands down his chest post-shoulder rub after his training. His affections poured out of him into you.

You hummed along to the music mindlessly, songs you haven’t heard in years shuffled on your mass playlist. The beat had your hips moving and head bobbing as you began wiping down the counter, but you found yourself grinning down at the marble when the soft piano began to play through the speaker.

“I haven’t listened to this in forever.” You mumbled, not looking up to see your husband trying to contain his smile behind you at the familiar and lovely tune.

Kylian pressed two warm hands at your hips, kissing your cheek from behind you. “Me neither.” He slowly swayed your movements to sync with his, moving his hands to wrap around your stomach loosely. “You know, I almost cried when we danced to this at our wedding.”

“Yes, I know.” You giggle, collecting some crumbs on your hand and tossing them in the sink next to you, wiping your palms with a rag. “You’re a big softie.”

Though the version you had at the wedding was much different than the original, the words still rang true. The lyrics to La Vie en Rose begin to take over the kitchen.

“Des yeux qui font baisser les miens, un rire qui se perd sur sa bouche. Voilà le portrait sans retouches de l'homme auquel j'appartiens” A gaze that makes me lower my own, a laugh that is lost on his lips. That is the un-retouched portrait of the man to whom I belong.

“Dance with me.” He whispers, stretching his fingers over the material of your shirt.

You chuckle like a schoolgirl, looking down to try and hide your love-struck timidness. “You’re so cheesy, Ky.”

“I don’t care.” He walks your bodies away from the counter, turning you around to show you his dimpled face, looking absolutely content to just be there with you. “I want to dance with my beautiful wife.”

You gaze up at him like he hung the moon, already over yourself as you wrap your arms around his neck, letting him pull you close by the small of your back.

“Quand il me prend dans ses bras, qu'il me parle tout bas, je vois la vie en rose. Il me dit des mots d'amour. Des mots de tous les jours, mais moi, ça me fait quelque chose.” When he takes me into his arms, He speaks to me softly, I see the world through rose-colored glasses. He speaks words of love to me. They are everyday words, but they do something to me.

He touches his forehead to yours, closing his eyes just for a second before lending them back to you. The eyes that made you feel seen so many years ago are making you feel seen, still.

Some fights and rough patches you thought you could never get over… but you could. You did. Sure, time heals all wounds and all, but earning forgiveness takes a lot out of a relationship. Both of you had to set aside your own agendas and get over useless spurts of bitterness, grudges; forcing yourself to put aside your pride because your heart just can’t go on without the other. Love isn’t about forgetting mistakes, but growing past them together. Love is about mutual respect and security. Having a companion through it all. It’s about commitment and feeling safe in that commitment. Allowing them to see the lowest lows and trusting that they’re right there with you.

“Il est entré dans mon cœur. Une grande part de bonheur, dont je connais la cause. C'est lui pour moi, moi pour lui dans la vie.” A bit of happiness that I know the cause of. It's only him for me, and for me, only him, for life. He told me, he swore to me, for life.

You nuzzled your face into his chest, letting your arms wrap completely around him as he did the same. To be loved by him was fulfilling and exhilarating and placid and right. The feeling of your family home, familiar in ways you can't describe but can only experience through the nostalgia of fond memories.

You didn’t even need to say the words anymore. You both just knew. Always.

The song ends and Kylian pulls his head into the crook of your neck, needing to feel the crinkle of your skin when he places his kiss there, smiling dopily when he gets his wish. “Mon coeur.” My heart. His breath tickles you more when he whispers into you, but you just hug him tighter, feeling your devotion for him heighten in every nerve in your body.

You scratch your fingernail on the spot you have been for over a decade. The reaction not as prominent anymore. Not as it was when you were only a young couple, but it meant more to both of you than just a reaction. It was a form of saying I love you, that you know him just as he knows you, that your affection for him still lives in you just as strong as your fidelity.

He puffs out some air with his giggle, feathering your neck again with the sudden gust as he pulled back just to take another look at you, brushing his nose with yours.

He places his hands on your stomach once more, looking down at them as he caressed the tiny forming bump. “Number two can’t get here fast enough.”

“You can’t call it number two when they're born.” You say, voice soft to match his. “Especially not around Meline. She already has only child syndrome and she’s barely three.”

“My baby Meli is perfect.” He defends instantly.

You shake your head, pulling away from his warm embrace. “That girl really has you wrapped around her tiny little finger.”

“She got that from you, didn’t she?” He always knew how to make you blush, even after all this time.

Kylian was head over heels for his daughter. They were attached at the hip, similar in so many ways that it frightened you. She looked just like him despite everyone saying she got your nose and smile. It was the eyes. The dark chocolaty brown, the deep set almond shape that caught the attention of anyone in their line of vision. You knew you were in trouble when you caught the first glimpse of them after she was born, already finding it difficult to say no to Kylian when he’d bat his lashes at you. Now there were two of them, getting away with their tomfoolery like masterminds, abusing their built in god-given charm.

A nice shower and some quick tidying up later, you realized that your crust was fully cooled and you hadn't even started on the filling yet. It sat on a rack that you eyed as you finished off the pear salad.

It’s any second now until Fayza and Wilfried arrive with Ethan to bring Meline back home. It was nice that she got to spend so much time with her grandparents. They’d pick her up in the morning and drop her off at night, sometimes she’d beg to stay at her pépé and mamis house.

Planting roots in Paris was the best decision you both could have made for your family. Kylian had explored different teams, different cities, but when you found out you were pregnant the first time around, Kylian made sure that the family had a steady base under their feet.

Kylian was marinating the chicken thighs as the grill out on the patio warmed up. You giggled as you watched him through the window, sporadically swatting at a bee that buzzed around him. It kept coming back for as long as he was out there, visibly spooking and frustrating him when it got too close to his ears.

“Stupid bee.” Kylian mumbled under his breath as he walked back in, tongs in one hand, a dirty dish in the other.

“Hello!” You hear Ethan's familiar voice bounce through the home, three sets footsteps clicking closer until the family appeared in the kitchen. Meline squealed when she saw you two, wiggling out of Ethan's arms as she reached out as far as she could for one of you to take her.

“Mon canard!” My duckling! Kylian cooed out her nickname as he clattered the dishes in the sink to whisk her out of his brother's arms, kissing her cheek repetitively as she giggled.

You greeted your in-laws and Ethan with big smiles and hugs, taking Mel's overnight bag from Fayza. “Was she good today?” You ask as you lean over to Kylian to plant a big smooch on your daughter's chubby little hand. “Were you good for pépé and mami?” You direct it playfully at the toddler.

“I was! I pwomise!” Mel claims almost defensively, balling Kylian's grilling apron into her small fist. Everyone giggles at her. She immediately won everyone over, bringing a bright light of joy to any room she was in. “Me an’ Teetin even did clean up time.”

Teetin is what she calls Ethan. When she was first learning to talk, Ethan constantly crowded her, trying to make her say “Oncle Ethan” since she had referred to everyone else as some sort of coherent name for days at that point. One day, she blabbered “Teetin” and he went nuts, boasting about how he finally got her to say his name. Turns out, she was saying “teetee”, as in, she was teetee-ing her diaper while he held her on the sofa. The nickname stuck, though Kylian called him piss baby for the following month.

“Yes, she was an angel, as always.” Fayza confirmed, still making googly eyes at Meli.

You set the table outside with the help of Fayza, serving iced tea and chatting with her. Kylian and Wilfried stood together by the grill and Ethan and Meline rolled around on the grass, your baby girl giggling so joyously it warmed your heart.

Crap, the tart.

“I’ll be right back out.” You mumble to Fayza and speed walk back in, getting all the ingredients out to make the filling, pretending you’ll be okay if it doesn’t fully chill like it’s supposed to. You’ll just have to pretend you’re okay with the tart not being firm. It was a sudden frantic feeling that hit you as you stood alone in the kitchen, overwhelmed by the raw ingredients in front of you.

Kylian was posted up at the grill with his dad, talking football as usual when he felt a tug on his jeans. He looks down at his little girl with wide eyes.

“I have t’ go teetee.” She disclaims, bouncing slightly.

“Okay, mon canard, let’s go.” He scoops her up in his arms, feeling like they should move fast after seeing her potty dance, a tell-tale sign she waited too long to ask. “Give the thighs another minute or two before you take them off.” He instructs his father, handing him the tongs before walking back inside.

She was off of diapers and was usually good at not having any accidents, but lord knows once that little girl gets distracted, tinkle time gets pushed to the back of her to-do list.

He walks past you in the kitchen, you give him a knowing look as he scurries into the bathroom, getting her on the toilet just as she began to fuss about not being able to hold it anymore.

“Remember, Meli, let papa know as soon as you gotta teetee, ‘kay?” He reminds her as he holds her up to the sink so she can wash her own hands.

“Okay.” She promises, but Kylian knows her well enough to deduct that this will still happen every day. Even if you ask her if she needs to go potty she’ll say no because it’s not about to burst out.

Ky and Mel walk out of the bathroom hand in hand into the kitchen. You were almost frantically mixing together your ingredients, puffing hair out of your face. “Need some help, maman?” Kylian questions.

“Um,” you look around at the cluttered countertop. “yes, please. Can you slice these?”

Kylian smirks as you hand him the bowl of strawberries. “It’ll cost you one strawberry, mon amour.” You give him a warning look. “We’ll share it.” He points to his daughter making grabby hands at the fruit.

“Pick a small one.”

He did not.

Kylian picked out the biggest one in there, making sure you were too distracted with mixing your concoction than on the cheeky pair. Kylian cut the berry, handing his daughter the bigger half as she sat on the counter, legs dangling down and swinging back and forth as she sucked on the sweet fruit. It was an effective distraction from begging Kylian to let her help with the slicing. No knives for her just yet.

Kylian saw the look on your face, brows furrowed. You seemed distraught as you added the jam into the bowl, hands almost shaking. “Relax, bebe. You okay?”

“What? Oh, yeah. I’m good.” You fake smile. “Allll good over here.”

He raises his brows, not believing you at all. He wiped his hands and put Meline back on her own two feet, leaning down to her level. “Meli, baby, go show grandma your strawberry.” He whispers. She nods, running back through the open door to the patio. Kylian watches as she holds the strawberry up to his mother, a wash of pride taking over his body for his baby girl.

Then, he walks right next to you where you were beginning to sweat from the vicious manner of mixing. He places his hand over yours holding the spatula, taking it off of the utensil.

“Kylian, come on. I have to finish this tart.” You whine, upset at him for making you stop.

“Relax.” He soothes as you try and break free from his grip.

“I am relaxed.” You groan. “Just let me finish this tart.”

“Forget the tart. This isn't about the tart.” He points, effectively taking your attention away from your mixing bowl, though you weren't happy with him about it. “Tell me what’s wrong. What are you thinking right now?”

You sigh, rubbing your forehead as if it would clear your mind. “I think…” You stop, toying with his fingers as you look down at them. “I think I’m just a little freaked out about having another baby.”

Kylian hums, then goes quiet. You seemed so excited the first time you found out. He remembered how you jumped in his arms when the two lines showed up on the pregnancy test, how you’d already begun decorating their room, how many baby name books you’d gotten out of storage and kept on your nightstand.

“Freaked out how?” He gently asks.

“I don’t know… just... yeah, just forget it." You grab the spatula again. "Because I really do have to finish this tart or else we won’t have dessert. It’s already going to suck because it won’t have time to cool and your mom always loves my desserts but this time she’ll hate it and I’ve been planning this since she gave us these strawberries but now it won’t even go how I thought it would. So, now, you’re all just gonna pretend to love it, but I know it's gonna be soggy and it won’t be firm and it’ll be embarrassing, so please. Just help me finish it quickly. Please.” You rant mindlessly, roughly folding the mixture together.

Kylian's eyes are wide as he watches you. He had no idea you’d been carrying this worry about another baby but he’s seeing it simmer out of you, hoping you won’t blow your top completely.

Slowly and silently, Kylian stands next to you once more, slicing the berries into slim pieces one by one. He lets the silence sit for a little to let you calm down and gather your actual thoughts before he speaks again.

“I’m a little freaked out, too.”

You look up for only a second and look back down. “...You are?”

“Sure.” He shrugs like it’s nothing. “I mean, I'm excited, yes. But babies are a lot of work. Meli didn’t make it easy on us. Remember, she was such a night owl and wanted us with her all the time. She would literally cling onto us in the rocking chair to make sure we wouldn’t leave. Oh, and remember how scared of leaves she was for a couple of months? That sucked. Also balloons... God, that birthday party was a nightmare.” He recalled. These stories send a grin to your face as you wondered where the time went. She was so big and only getting bigger every day. Soon, she wouldn’t even need your help to reach things on the table or tying her shoes.

“I can’t believe she’s three.” You sigh, tasting the filling and feeling your shoulders relax when you realized the consistency and taste was just right. Kylian finished slicing, now leaning against the counter to continue the conversation.

“She already told me what she wants for her next birthday.” He scoffed and you shook your head. Her third birthday was only last month. “A real life purple hippopotamus. But it has to be tiny enough for her to hold it.” You laugh at her request as you begin filling the crust. “She has a name for it already, too.”

“Oh, does she? I bet I can guess it. Monsieur purple hippo?”

“Close.” He laughs. “Monsieur petite purple hippo.”

“That’s a mouthful, but very on brand for her.” You point out, scraping the last bits from the bowl. You begin to place the berry slices neatly on top of the tart, much calmer and relaxed. Your hands weren't even shaking anymore.

Kylian kissed your temple sweetly, helping you put the finishing layer on. “It’ll all work out. I promise. It’s scary, but nothing our family can’t handle.”

Your heart swells. He’s so right for you. The way he easily noticed and eased your racing mind made you focus on your left ring finger, feeling the weight of the bands that wrapped around it. They’ve been on for so many years that it just feels like part of your body, not uncommon to overlook their beauty or forget the promises they hold in your daily life. But it's simple moments like these that you remember the words engraved on them. Always pressed against your skin, never failing to stay close to you. Mon cœur t'appartient was the promise he’s kept for years, and you have as well. My heart is yours.

Though you thought you messed up your dessert, you now look down at the finished product, and it’s perfect.

Dinner went long, caught up in conversations and hilarious stories that embarrassed Ethan and Kylian. You looked around at the family you’re a part of, physically feeling the love from every single one of the humans sitting under the dim shine of the string lights in the gazebo. With good food and better people, time slips too quickly.

Life is short, moments graze by like a freight train passing a station. You never know what could happen tomorrow, the future is in no one's hands. Things can happen in the snap of a finger. You say your last goodbye without even knowing. You can wish to control the clock. You can wish that you could turn it back and do some things differently. You can wish you could jump forward and prepare for what’s to come. But all this wishing would do is drive you insane, because everyone lacks control when it comes to time. Appreciate the moment. Live in it. Dwelling on the negative will only comfort the pessimist that lives inside of you. Worrying about the future will only hold you back from the journey you take to get there.

So, for now, you sit sipping wine in front of empty plates while your daughter slowly falls asleep on your husband's shoulder, your mother in law's sweater drapes over your cold legs, the stars are left alone to shine brightly without a cloud in sight. Everything was just as it should be. Everything will be okay.

All this escaped time allowed for your dessert to chill.

Finally, your tart was finished.

A/N: Officially the end of this fic, and if I do say so myself, it's satisfying. I had so much writers block through this so I'm sorry I haven't updated in over a week. I wanted to make sure this one was good after all the love that I got from this fic. Love you all so much! Thank's for reading!

Taglist: @trentione @mentalbaddie @neymarsrealgf @akiraquote @mrswhitethornbelikov @kymb-10 @formula101x @photmath @marcelineslove @tsikik @iheartkyky @freshfraise @jokertbh @germanapples @urfuturesoccerwife @nightlockcornucopia @laylaynaynay130 @starlight8374 @depressoesssspresso @mbappesbae @ maddyperrezz @gigiboss @xanjoy @lovekm @jkkiks @vvbasmavv-blog @suzysface @ lolarmy72 @lizzz2967 @kylians-world @superswaggycooch @shashla @mehrmonga @abayo222 @missmo79 @tties24-7 @gurleenkl @drewstarkeysbae @ vibinwkay @ctn26 @ippid @i0veless @abayo222 @b-bradshaw @http-isabela @zoeeeruiz @mitruscity @kenanlotus0 @mbapbaesluvr @alwaysclassyeagle @nhatquynh @philipetchebest

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luveline · 2 years

Note

For the zombie AU with Steve, maybe a night of survival in the cold? Reluctant cuddling, bonding?

YESSSS tysm for ur request i owe u my life

You pull your coat closed around your middle and shiver.

"Come here," Steve says, tucking the map under his arm.

You move to stand in front of him because he's slipped into his caretaking tone. A nice change. Usually he's just mildly annoyed.

He takes the zipper of your coat into his hand and scolds as he tries to fix it for the fiftieth time today. It's awful timing for it to break because it's cold as winter and you're on the road. A fire, as you've learned, would be a mistake. You close your eyes at the thought of such blistering warmth and listen to him cuss under his breath.

"Sorry," you say eventually. His quiet makes you nervous.

"Not your fault, just..." He gives up and steps away from you. "Bad timing."

You hide your hands in your sleeves.

"Maybe we should stop anyways. We're not exactly moving fast," he says bitterly.

You like the sound of that.

There's a tarp at the bottom of your backpack for occasions like this. You shed your bag and dig for it as Steve drops his own. It's not great, your having to carry blankets with you — they're heavy and take up a lot of space — but it's worse to freeze to death outdoors.

The sun creeps down low in the horizon lazily. You think it's as reluctant to go as you are for it to dissapear, its rays the only thing keeping the tip of your nose from freezing and falling off, no doubt.

You search for a stick. It's harder than it sounds.

Steve doesn't like walking along the road and you don't blame him, often there's cars or bikes weaving through the carcasses of cars picked clean, so you hide in the tree bank. A road block or something similar to the south must've broken recently, and the sound of engines revving at night gets more frequent. Better to stay hidden, even if finding somewhere to camp at night proves difficult.

The stick is necessary to build a makeshift tent, but the trees here are all spindly and thin-branched.

You return triumphant with something just long enough to keep the tarp from your bodies to find Steve's already found a better, chunkier stick and established a camp.

"Don't tell me, or anything. Just let me look for sticks for an hour."

"Your perception of time is getting worse."

"Some of us don't wear watches, 'cos we aren't rich, privileged babies."

He actually manages to laugh at that one, which is odd. It's one of the weakest insults you've ever thrown at him.

"That was bad," he says.

Oh. He's laughing at you.

"Jerk."

"What do you want? I have tinned peaches or a chocolate granola bar-"

"Obviously the granola-"

"With laxatative properties," he finishes, holding it between his fingers like a guy from the commercials. He shakes it at you enticingly.

"I'm not that hungry."

"Too bad."

You both sit near the makeshift tent in your heavy clothes. Steve stretches the blanket over your legs with a warning, "If you get peach juice on this I'm not gonna talk to you till Michigan."

You take the open can of peaches and pretend to tip it toward the blanket. "Don't tempt me, Harrington."

You have to keep talking because if you don't you'll cry. Really cry. Eating dinner like this from a can in a bed of leaf litter makes you want to cry. Every mouthful is sweet and sticky and your eyes get heavy with tears.

Steve understands what you're like by now. "I really fucking hate peaches," he says grandly. "I know you're surprised."

"That doesn't surprise me."

"No?"

"Do guys eat fruit?"

It's a talent.

"'Do guys eat fruit?'" he quotes seriously, pensive, like the answer escapes him.

He leans back against his rucksack and crosses his arms behind his head. He could be shooting the breeze, that's how relaxed Steve Harrington looks.

You laugh reluctantly into the can of peaches as you take a little sip of the juice and almost choke.

"I gotta eat that too, you know? Don't spit in it."

"Sorry," you say genuinely, wiping your sticky face with the back of your hand.

"You should be. Gross." He doesn't sound very bothered.

Steve eats his own peach slices with a shiver and tosses the can overhead. It goes really far, hitting the base of a tree across the way. You can imagine him in his gym clothes rather than what he wears now. Prim yellow shorts. Clean gym t-shirt with his name written in pen across the front.

"You can sleep first," he says.

You don't argue, sliding under the tarp with your blanket.

It's easier like this. The sun hasn't quite set but there's really nothing else to do. You'll sleep, Steve will wake you up in a couple of hours and then you'll swap. You'll wake Steve up when the sun rises, and another day on the road will begin.

The floor is very, very cold.

You try your best to stop from shivering and bring the blanket up to cover your face. The sun goes down and the last of its heat goes with it.

You stick it out. Complaining won't make it warmer. Steve doesn't even have a blanket.

"Y/N?" he whispers.

Leaves shift.

"Are you awake?"

You lift your head to see him where he sits at the opening of the 'tent'. It's difficult to make out his features now.

"I can hear your teeth," he says, eyes impassive as they scour your face.

"S-s-sorry," you shudder.

He stares at you for a while before stretching out his legs and shuffling across the dirt toward you. His hands are like ice as he works them under your shoulders and arms, dragging you into his lap.

You're tired and cold. "Steve," you grumble miserably, "what are you doing?"

"Body heat."

He doesn't stop until you're settled, slouching down so you can lean comfortably against his chest. He pulls the ends of your coats together tightly, readjusts your blanket, and covers your hands with both of his.

He yanks the tarp down and covers you with that, too, the both of your engulfed in plastic.

"What if it rains?" you ask.

"On our frozen corpses, you mean?"

You cringe and turn in his arms to hide your face in his scratchy jacket. His head drops toward his chest, chin gracing the top of your head. It's like a hug. It is a hug. You wrap your arms around his waist and try not to think about it.

It's not the most comfortable position in the world. Your back doesn't quite want to turn right, and his thigh probably hurts from your left elbow. Honestly, it's a pretty pathetic excuse for a hug.

"Why don't you just lie down with me?" you say into his coat.

"And get eaten?"

"There's no geeks around here."

"You say that," he murmurs, hands beginning a slow journey down the length of your back, "and then I'll wake up missing one of my legs."

Using the tarp as a blanket was a good idea. Already you feel warmer. Your face defrost where it's hidden in his front.

"Anymore stupid questions tonight?" Steve asks, voice low and amicable.

"Har-har," you mumble.

He rubs your back. Your eyes well up and you bite your lip to stop from crying. It's really, stupidly nice to be close to someone, to him. You miss comfort and music and eating enough, but you miss hugs most of all. You miss hugs from the people who loved you.

"Do you like me?" you whisper.

As soon as you've asked, you wish you hadn't. He doesn't answer, and you think Good, he didn't hear me.

"No more stupid questions," he says finally, tightening his grips on you. "Go to sleep."

more steve zombie!au

#steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington #steve harrington x you #stranger things x reader #stranger things fic #stranger things #steve harrington x fem!reader #fem!reader #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fanfic #zombie!au #steve zombie!au

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semisolidmind · 9 months

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Hypothetically what if Reader already had a suitor before the monkeys took her away (TAB au). Like if the family she worked for had a son that really liked her. Maybe he's rude and sexist toward the reader, "you belong in the kitchen" and all that. Would they give him some sort of creative punishment for that? I'm talking keeping him alive out of spite, just to taunt him about the fact that Peaches chose them instead.

Plus wouldn't that just be another thing to hold over Peaches' head? I mean without them she would still have to deal with him. I could only imagine the horror when she finds him kept somewhere on the mountain.

(oh he's dead. anybody who's rude to peaches has decided their own fate.)

and if this guy is as bad as you say, then reader won't be too broken up about his dissapearance. like, maybe one day she's doing her chores, expecting him and his inflated ego to come and harass her at any moment, but...he doesn't show up. at all.

later on, the patriarch and his wife are panicking, saying their son hasn't been seen or heard from in days. reader is concerned, of course, but the break from the unwanted attention is nice. she gets to see her little monkeys again, too; the patriarch's son scared them off by trying to hit them whenever they'd come around.

when reader sees them again, the boys seem very proud of themselves, smug almost. and very, very cuddly. she figures they must have found some particularly good fruit trees lately, or perhaps there was some monkey drama going on.

reader would never suspect that her two adorable companions have been torturing her tormentor for the entire time they've been gone. the demons have returned to her side in triumph now that the patriarch's son is dead.

she'd never guess that the adorable, innocent-looking monkeys in her lap had found joy in tearing off the limbs that struck them.

#bad end wukong #twice as bad au

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stevieharringtonwifeguy · 8 months

Text

steve, robin, chrissy, and nancy starting a band together. each have their own kind of more classical musical training with robin being in marching band and steve, chrissy, and nancy all having Rich People Music Lessons as children, but everyone's shocked when they decide to turn that talent towards a punk band called Baby and the Girls

and they start off kind of small, with their Gimmick being the disconnect between their more prep/normie visual aesthetic and the angry, violent tone of their music. steve's the singer (he has a lovely voice, kind of warm and croony until he really starts screaming), chrissys the drummer (she's so tiny you can barely see her behind that thing), nancys the bassist (solid, dependable, gets a little smile on her face whenever she's got a particularly sexy baseline bc she knows the bass is what makes a song a fuck song), and robins on guitar (and keyboard, and violin, and one time an accordion which is still her favourite song to perform. basically whatever other instrument the song calls for she's got it)

and they get kind of a following not just for their angry music criticising the government and society and the like, but also because of how unabashedly queer they are. chrissy/nancy/robin have all visibly flirted with each other during concerts and no one's quite sure what the deal is there. steve performs like 75% of their shows in full drag as Baby (hence the band name) and winks flirtatiously at both male and female audience members alike

eventually they get Real Big, and get signed to an actual record label. despite knowing how queer they were before signing them, it's still like the early 90s so the label makes them tone it down a bit. song lyrics get a little more ambiguous (but not if you actually like. listen to them. i mean steve sings about eating a wide variety of fruits and vegetables in a way that like. We All Know What The Peach Is Steven), steve's not allowed to perform in drag anymore (although he does lose a suspicious amount of bets whose forfeits 'force' him to perform in a dress. new fans are baffled at how bad this guy is at bets), and the band name has to change, becoming Stevie and the Girls (the label wanted it to just be 'steve' but they compromised)

and over the course of their career, at some point they end up on a talk show with the Other Band From Hawkins, corroded coffin. the host is clearly angling for a punk/metal standoff, maybe Known Non-conformist eddie munson will call them posers for wearing so many pastel colours, or since everyone knows that steve chris and nancy at least used to be pretty popular in high school maybe there's some lasting high school drama to up their ratings

and yeah, their ratings skyrocket for that episode, but only bc steve and eddie reveal they've been dating since 1987

#i'll be honest i know it's not historically accurate to The Scene at the time but they're mcr. also stevie writes Rebel Girl for eddie #steddie #steve harrington #stranger things #chrissy cunningham #nancy wheeler #robin buckley #idk if there's a ship name for the three of them but that's what they're doing #when they were coming up with band names steve suggested Fourth Wheel bc that's what he was #but chris and nancy pointed out that stobin has Relationship Priority like if they were all hanging out steve is def not left out #he and robin share a brain how can you be fourth wheeling her relationship #and stobin was like okay. fair.#so now they're Baby And The Girls #so named bc eddie came to a rehearsal once and in greeting them went BABY!!!! 🥰😊💖#and then after covering steve's face in squishy kisses regained his composure and did what WOULD have been a very smooth 'girls.'#had it not been preceded by five minutes of smooches #eddie munson

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fanficimagery · 2 years

Text

Welcome to the Party

Imagine being Steve Harrington's sister and catching the eye of the new guy who wants to dethrone your brother.

Words: 5.6K Author's Note: So I did a rewatch of ST and I forgot how much of a dick Steve was before he realized the error of his ways. And Jonathan snappin' those pictures really was a creep move. So this is a ST!AU where my boys aren't cringe or douchey. Also timeline? What timeline? Things in ST happen way too fast. We're gonna take this one day at a time.

Nothing interesting ever happened in Hawkins- not counting what went down with Will Byers, the Hawkins Lab, or the fact that monsters and little girls with supernatural abilities existed- so when a new family moves to town, you hear all about it.

Thanks to your parents' nosy ways, you know all about Neil Hargrove and his new wife Susan, his teenage son Billy and her younger teenage daughter Maxine. No one knows why a family from California would move to a place like Hawkins, Indiana, but no one is brave enough to question it.

The newbies don't show up to school on Monday, but on Tuesday at Hawkins High, the only thing anyone can talk about during your first two class periods is the Californian babe who rolled up in a roaring Chevrolet Camaro earlier that morning. And by your third class period, you're more than ready for a nap in order to drown out all the incessant giggling.

"You can go ahead and take a seat by YN. YN, please raise your hand." You hear the words, but you don't really register them. Not until the voice is snapping at you. "YN!"

"What!?"

The classroom giggles as you scowl at the teacher, mood souring at your near nap being interrupted. "I said to please raise your hand so that Mr. Hargrove can see where he's supposed to sit."

"I'm pretty sure with the two of us holding this conversation, Mr. Hargrove knows exactly who I am and knows where to sit now. Holding up my hand is redundant."

Crossing your arms over your desktop once more, you lay your head down and hope there are no more interruptions during the class period.

"Someone's not a mid-morning person." If the voice hadn't tipped you off to this being the new guy, then him speaking to you surely did because your regular classmates knew enough to leave you be. When you crack open an eye, he smirks. "Name's Billy."

"YN. Now shh. I'm not tolerable until after lunch."

You can practically feel the new guy staring at you, so you turn your head the other way and listen with half an ear to make sure you're not missing anything important in class. The teacher drones on and on, putting on a video halfway and passing out sheets of paper that you're to answer while watching. So groaning, you sit back up and complete your class work.

"Hey," Billy utters. "What'd you get for number six? I didn't catch it."

You sign your name on top of your paper and hold it out for him. "You can copy the rest if you take my paper up there with yours so I don't have to get up."

"Done."

As soon as Billy has your paper in hand and starts copying your answers, you lay your head back down and hope to catch a few minutes of shut eye. Instead, you're unable to sleep so you listen to the other females sitting closest to Billy attempt to flirt with him.

Then when the bell rings, you leave without so much as sparing him another glance.

You have to endure another full class period before it's time for lunch, and then with a full lunch tray you make your way to the table that now consists of Steve, Nancy and Jonathan. Steve is the only one who acknowledges your presence, grunting a greeting to which you nod at before digging into your pizza and corn.

"So have any of you had a class with that douchebag from Cali?" Steve asks.

You shrug. "Third period."

"And?"

"And nothing. He's cute, but too cocky. Got him to take my work up to the front of the class so I could go back to sleep."

Nancy grins. "Anything for naptime, huh?"

"You know it."

Jonathan chuckles as you move on to eating your fruit cup, happily munching on the peaches and pineapples.

The rest of the school day passes without anything interesting happening, the only exception being when Billy called the female population of Hawkins High nothing but heifers. You had taken incredible offense to it, barking out a sharp hey! at him to which he merely smirked and amended his statement that most were heifers. You couldn't find it in yourself to disagree, shrugged, and continued on with your day.

The following school day, the day of Halloween, is about the same. Nothing interesting happens, Tina shoves a party invitation into your hands, Billy attempts to talk to you yet again, and then you discuss costume ideas with Steve and Nancy. They wanted to go as the couple from Risky Business and you wanted to go as bad girl Sandy from Grease since it was the simplest costume you could come up with on short notice.

So, after school you immediately head home to catch a nap before you have to wake up and get dressed.

By the time you, Steve and Nancy pull up to Tina's, the party is in full swing. Toilet paper hangs from the trees and is draped all over the bushes. Cans of beer and solo cups litter the front yard, and your peers stumble in and out of the house, even stumbling alongside the side of the house and spilling out into the backyard.

Dressed in skintight black pants and an off the shoulder black blouse that is also just as tight, you carefully weave in and out of the crowd in peep toe red heels. Your hair is curled to near perfection, and almost as soon as you enter the house Steve and Nancy break off to do their own thing.

Making an immediate beeline for the kitchen, you grab yourself a red solo cup and fill it with the spiked punch. You look around for a familiar face, for someone to talk to, but no one catches your interest. At least not until you hear a crowd chanting, counting loudly and excitedly which can only mean one thing- someone is about to beat your brother's keg stand record.

Walking towards the back door, you lean against the opened doorway as rowdy partygoers hold the legs of some guy. Then when they let him down, the cocky new record holder spews beer upward. "That's how you do it, Hawkins! Thats. How. You. Do. It!"

Billy Hargrove wears nothing but jeans and a leather jacket hanging off the shoulders of his glistening torso. He has a cigarette in hand, taking a drag from it just as his gaze lands on you. He changes his direction, leaving Tommy hanging and staring in confusion at his back.

"Congratulations, Keg King," you muse.

His eyes look you up and down, his tongue peeking out as he licks his lips. "You know I did some diggin' and found out some stuff."

"Oh yeah? And what did you find out?"

"That you're the princess of Hawkins High." You snort and take a sip of your drink. "Don't worry though, little Harrington. Your brother's been dethroned, and I have no need for a princess. A queen, however.."

"Ha!" You laugh. "Hate to be the bearer of bad news, Cali, but I'm not one of the girls in line to take a ride in your shiny Camaro."

"No, you're not, are you?" He looks you up and down again, taking a drag of his cigarette before he flicks it away. "So, what are you supposed to be?"

"Sandy Olsson. Grease."

"Never heard of it."

"No, you wouldn't have," you say. "You seem like the type of guy who makes out in the movie theater instead of actually enjoying the movie you paid to watch."

"What can I say? The chicks love me."

"I'm sure they do." You go to take another sip of your drink, only to realize the cup is empty. You frown down into it and Billy chuckles.

"Come on." He turns you around, facing the kitchen, and slings an arm around your shoulders. "Let's go get you a refill." Tucked under Billy's arm, you don't pay anyone any mind. You know there are glares directed at you, but you rather not deal with any drama. But just as you're entering the kitchen, Nancy is rushing out and Steve is chasing after her. You frown and make a move to follow, but Billy holds you back. "Na uh, princess. You're with me right now."

"But Steve-"

"-is a big boy. I'm pretty sure he can handle his girl."

You huff as you shrug off Billy's arm and serve yourself another cup of what your peers are saying is pure fuel. As Billy serves his own cup, you hop up on the kitchen counter. Billy takes a gulp from his cup as he stares at you and then boldly moves closer to you before positioning himself between your knees. You let your feet hook around so they catch on the back of his knees. "Careful, Cali, or your favorite heifers are gonna create a stampede out of a fit of anger."

One hand lands on your thigh as the other holds his drink. "I don't care about these small-town girls."

"No?" You arch an eyebrow at him. "You seem pretty interested in one of those small-town girls right now."

"Because in the two days I've been here, you're one of the few who hasn't twirled your hair or battled your gunked up eyelashes at me."

"Hey!" You playfully shove his shoulder. "My eyelashes don't have gunk on them."

"If you say so."

His boyish smile is almost enough to distract you from what's going on behind him.

Almost.

Steve is pushing through the crowd of costumed party goers, his expression a mixture of anger and hurt. You frown and, just as Billy turns to see what's caught your attention, you nudge him back to hurry after your brother.

Pushing through your peers, you break through the front door and stumble down the front sidewalk. "Steve?" You call out. You glance around the front yard, finding your brother at his car and fumbling with his keys to open the driver's door. "Steve!"

You try to hurry towards him, only for your brother to finally enter his car and start the engine, peeling away from the curb. You stand where his car was once parked, throwing your arms out at your sides in frustration.

"What happened?"

You glance over your shoulder to see Billy frowning as well. "Like I know." Then glancing over the front yard, you spot Jonathan helping a clearly drunk Nancy to his own car. Marching towards them, you ask, "What the hell's going on? Why'd Steve take off?"

Jonathan stares at you as if he's been caught red handed doing something he wasn't supposed to, and Nancy keeps mumbling the word bullshit over and over. "I-I don't know," he stammers. "I think they had a fight."

"The relationship is such bullshit," Nancy suddenly slurs. "Steve's bullshit."

Your body tenses at her words and then your eyes narrow as you take a step in Nancy's direction. Jonathan steps between you. "Come on, YN. Not now."

"What the fuck did she do?"

You try to step around him, only to have a hand grab onto your bicep. "Come on, little Harrington, she's wasted. Confront her tomorrow."

Jonathan is clearly surprised by Billy's interference and gives him a quick nod of gratitude. When you turn towards Billy, Jonathan takes that chance to quickly put Nancy into his car. "Do you need a ride?" You hear Jonathan ask.

"Not if she's in the car," you immediately reply when you glance back at him. He winces, but nods in understanding.

As Jonathan leaves, you turn towards Billy. He smirks. "Need a ride?"

"Ugh. Don't look so smug."

As the fight drains out of you, Billy slings an arm around your shoulders and starts to lead you towards his car. "Come on. This party blows anyway. Let's go grab a bite to eat somewhere."

Billy Hargrove is taken by surprise with YN Harrington.

At first, he thought to get close to the girl to get on King Steve's nerve, but Halloween night went and threw a wrench into his plans. Believe it or not, he actually likes talking to the girl and likes her protectiveness over her brother. He didn't get to see just how protective she could be until the following day though, when Nancy Wheeler made the mistake of confronting the siblings, blaming Steve for her being late to school. Steve had scoffed, but YN was right there in Nancy's face, threatening the girl to get a better hold on her alcohol consumption and to fuck off with her better than thou attitude.

Both Steve and Nancy had been stunned, Billy watched from afar with a smirk, and the main topic at Hawkins High that day was how Steve Harrington broke up with Nancy Wheeler.

Billy still made it his mission to dethrone Steve, but he toned down the aggressiveness. Steve still thought him a raging douchebag, but he knew better than to tell YN who she could hang out with. And YN? Well, she didn't make it quite so easy on Billy either, threatening him and his car should he ever throw a single punch in her brother's direction.

For the most part the boys seemed to play it smart, picking on one another to see who would cave and throw the first punch. Unfortunately for them, neither seemed to want to piss off YN and kept their fists to themselves.

Which was odd for Billy because he never cared to get into a girl's good graces unless it was to get into her panties.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Steve has done a lot of idiotic things in life- things that led to him getting his ass kicked which you greatly approved of- but him thinking he owes Nancy an apology after she called him and their relationship bullshit? Well, that was just the icing on the cake.

Somehow your brother got it into his head that he loved Nancy no matter, even getting her a bouquet of flowers to apologize with. He had tried recruiting you to help him with an apology speech, but you weren't having it and had him drop you off at the Palace Arcade to take your annoyance out on the joysticks and buttons.

You're on your last ship in Galaga, shooting the enemy ships and racking up quite the number of points when a hand slaps down on the screen. You gasp in surprise, the machine emits the telltale noises of your ship dying, and you groan. "Dude, what the hell!?" You follow the owner's hand up his arm and to the face of an amused Billy.

"So, you're a nerd too? My, my, little Harrington. You're full of surprises."

"Whatever." You release the joystick and move on, trying to find a new game to play. "So, what brings you here? This isn't your scene, Hargrove."

"Looking for my dipshit of a stepsister," he says. "Realized she wasn't home and if she isn't there when her mom or my dad get back, I'm gonna get the blame."

"Sorry, man, I haven't seen her."

"Didn't think you did." Billy follows after you, watching as you sigh at not finding anything worth your time and then taking a seat at a small table. He joins you. "Heard she ran around with a bunch of nerds and checked their houses. No one was home, so I came here as a last resort."

"Hmm. Yeah," you say. "I think I know who you're talking about. Those boys are obsessed because she beat their high scores on a few games, but I didn't think they were friends. She seemed kind of annoyed by them."

Billy sighs. "Do you know where they could be?"

"Nope." A look of frustration passes over his features, and you feel for him. "But I could possibly find out? Give me a lift to my house?"

"Yeah. Let's go."

You follow Billy outside to his car, barely having a moment to buckle up before his engine roars to life and his tires screech as the car carries you away to your destination. And since he had given you a ride home Halloween night, he already knew his way around Loch Nora and which house was yours.

Billy follows you inside your house without a word and up to your room without comment. You expect some sort of suggestive commentary when you catch him looking around your room, but nothing ever comes.

The commentary, however not suggestive, comes when he sees the radio you pull out from your bottom drawer. "You really are a nerd."

"Well, this nerd is trying to save your ass, so maybe be nice, yeah?" He grins as you pull the antenna up and click the radio on, then hold down the button. "Dustin, you there? Pick up, kid."

A few seconds pass, much too long for Billy who groans in annoyance. Static comes over the radio and then, "YN? What's going on?"

"Hargrove's driving all over town looking' for a little redhead. She, by chance, wouldn't be with you, would she?"

"Mad Max? Pft. No way."

"Dusty," you coo, "you know I don't like liars."

"Her brother's a raging douchebag! Why do you even talk to him?"

"Hey!" You bark back, coming to the defense of Billy when you see his gaze harden. "The people I decide to spend time with are none of your concern. Now have you seen the kid or not? She's in a shit load of trouble when her mom gets home and finds her missing."

The radio is silent for a little too long and you're about to radio in again when a female voice comes on. "Listen, can you just tell Billy that I'll be home later?"

"That little mother-"

You shake your head at Billy, cutting him off before you hold down the button once more. "Listen, kid, I'm not sure what's going on, but I'm pretty sure your stepdad isn't going to like that answer."

"H-Hey, YN?" The radio has apparently changed hands yet again, this time Steve speaking to you. "Forget the Hargrove family drama for a sec and get your butt down to the junkyard."

"What?"

"You're going to need to bring your bat as well. Henderson got a new pet, and it ate his family cat. He's pretty sure it's a baby demogorgon."

Steve's words make you freeze, mind temporarily blanking as screams from last year's trauma reverberate through your mind. You must have spaced out because Billy shakes you, pointing to the radio in your hands.

"Y-Yeah. Okay. I'll, uh, meet you guys there."

As soon as you're done with the radio, you push the antennae back down and toss the radio aside. You rush towards your closet, opening the door and bringing forth the wooden bat that has nails protruding from the end of it.

"Whoa, whoa. What the hell is going on?" Billy asks. "And what the hell is a baby demogorgon?"

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," you say. You collect an empty backpack from your closet floor, moving around your room to toss in the radio, a flashlight, and two lighters.

"Try me." Billy says, blocking your doorway.

"Alright. Fine." You huff, standing your ground. "Alternate dimensions exist." Billy scoffs and you arch an eyebrow at him. "Hawkins Lab did experiments on kids and one of them escaped after she accidentally opened a portal to this terrifying dimension."

"Bullshit."

"Will Byers got abducted by a monster from this dimension, as did Barbara Holland, only Barabara didn't survive. There was a monster that we named the demogorgon that stood at least eight feet tall, razor-like talons, and its face opened up like a flower with rows upon rows of razor-sharp teeth. That kid that escaped from the lab- we called her Eleven because that was what was tattooed on her wrist- helped save Will and close the portal. Or so we thought because if Dustin really does have a baby demogorgon, we're fucked."

You're breathing a little too quickly after getting that out as quickly as you could and Billy frowns at you. "You're not bullshitting me right now?"

"Do I look like the type of person to bullshit you?" You ask in return. You pull on the straps of the backpack, gripping tight to the handle of your bat. "Now are you going to drive me to the junkyard or am I going to have to bike up there? In case you didn't pick up on it, I'm in a bit of a rush."

This time as you step towards the door, Billy steps out of your way. He rushes after you down the stairs, catching your elbow to lead you back to his car once you step foot outside. "I'm not sure I buy what you're selling, but if Max is where these kids are, I need to pick her up anyway."

You mutter a quiet thanks as you climb back into his car, your right leg immediately bouncing as your anxiety amps up. You direct him towards the junkyard, telling him where to park and that you'd have to walk the rest of the way there.

Trekking through the junk and abandoned vehicles, every little sound sets you on edge. The sun has just gone down, the darkness seems to press in all around you, and the pile of raw meat does nothing to soothe your worry. Billy, on the other hand, seems perfectly at ease puffing away on a cigarette.

As you draw closer to the junked school bus, the door slides open just as three of the windows are yanked down.

"You brought Billy?!" Your brother actually looks offended.

"What the hell, YN!? We're not supposed to tell anyone!" Dustin yells.

"We were supposed to vote if we bring in a new person!" Lucas then adds.

Cocking your hip to the side and swinging the bat upward so it rests on your shoulder, you say, "Oh really? Then why didn't I get a vote when you brought the new girl in? Steve, you get a vote?"

"Well, no, but Billy? Really?"

Still puffing away on his cigarette, Billy shrugs instead of arguing with your brother. If he were being honest, he wasn't sure why you had brought him other than using him for a ride and to get Max.

"At least my friend can help us kick some ass or lift some shit," you retort. "What's your friend gonna do?" You then glance between Dustin and Lucas. "Scream until someone else comes to her rescue?"

"Hey!"

"Sorry, Red, but it's the truth. Between our two fuck ups of bringing in you and Billy, my guy is clearly the better candidate." Steve huffs but doesn't argue. He has to know you're right. "And by the way, neither of you can ever mention what you've heard or might see. The people in charge will kill us."

"What the fuck?" Billy frowns, finally tossing down his cigarette and stomping it out. "Are you serious?"

"Unfortunately." You step towards the bus, climbing the steps. "Now come on, Hargrove. Sun's down and that pile of meat is clearly meant to draw something here. We better wait it out."

With a groan, Billy follows you on the bus. "I swear to God, this is stupid. If we get into deep shit over this, Maxine, I'm gonna kick your ass."

Max seems to tense, and you roll your eyes, dropping onto one of the few seats still sturdy enough to hold someone. You pull your bag off and drop it at your feet, along with your bat, and then pull Billy down to sit with you. "Stop threatening the kid. We have bigger things to worry about if Dustin's new pet is what he thinks it is."

The bus falls quiet and Steve gets up after a couple of minutes, moving towards the middle of the bus and taking a seat on a cushion with his back to the side of the bus. A ladder has been propped up to lead out of the emergency exit on the roof of the bus and Lucas starts to climb it.

Max sighs, glancing out through the dirty windows before glancing back at Steve. "So, you fought one of these things?"

Seeing that the question is directed at him, Steve nods. "Yep. YN too."

Billy glances at you, arching an eyebrow, and you nod.

"Are you sure it wasn't a dog?" Max then asks, causing Billy to snort and then pretend it wasn't him who found amusement in her question.

"God, why are you even here if you don't believe us?" Dustin suddenly asks, annoyed.

Max gapes at him before scoffing. "Someone's cranky. Is it past your bedtime?" She climbs the ladder next, joining Lucas on the roof.

"Atta boy," Steve suddenly muses. "Way to not care."

Dustin frowns at him. "I don't." Steve then winks. "Why are you winking? Stop it. It's weird."

"What the hell is going on?" You ask, suddenly interested in their weird little dynamic.

"Steve gave me some terrible girl advice," Dustin says.

"It's not terrible!"

Billy laughs. "You took girl advice from Harrington? Seriously?"

"He's the only cool person I know!" Dustin is quick to defend his choice.

"Harrington isn't even cool."

"Hey!" Both you and Steve bark out.

Billy rolls his eyes. "I stand corrected. Boy Harrington isn't even cool. YN, on the other hand.."

"Please," your brother scoffs, "you're just saying that because you want in her pants."

"Gross!" Dustin exclaims, but you can only grin as Billy doesn't deny it.

You weren't a fool. Billy Hargrove was a total babe, but you weren't about to make it too easy for him. If he still wanted to take you out to Lover's Lake by the end of whatever drama Steve and Dustin dragged you all into was over, well then you would probably agree. Maybe.

Billy goes to open his mouth, but a familiar screeching fills the air followed by a clicking noise you were sure you would hear in your nightmares again. It's so quiet that you can hear a pin drop and then Lucas is shouting.

"Guys! Ten o'clock!"

"Are you sure that's not a dog?" Max's voice filters down.

You, Billy, Steve, and Dustin rush towards the windows, peering out. Fog has rolled in, leaving gaps here and there, but the moonlight is enough to show the creature that was definitely going to make an appearance in your nightmares.

"What the hell is that?" Billy mumbles.

"Demodog," Dustin says.

"It's like the demogorgon, but this one is doglike," Steve explains.

"Why isn't he going for the meat?" Dustin wonders. "Is he not hungry?"

You continue to stare at the creature as he steps further into the junk yard, sniffing the meat and then the air. When he stares right at the bus, dread fills your stomach.

"Or maybe it's tired of cow," Steve realizes.

You glance at your brother, immediately knowing this next bit is going to suck. "Live bait?"

"Live bait."

You quietly groan and turn around, grabbing up your bat before following after your brother.

"Wait, what?" Dustin whirls around. "No way, danger duo. You guys are not going out there," he says when you and Steve head towards the door.

"It's the only way to lure this thing in if you want us to kill it," Steve says.

Meeting Billy's gaze, you gesture to the handle that opens and closes the door. "Be ready. If things go south, we're running back for the bus."

He frowns. "Are you sure about this?"

"Nope, but someone's gotta do it." Then glancing at your brother, you nod towards the door. "Go. I'm right behind you."

You and Steve hop down off the bus, he having found a crowbar from somewhere. Your arms brush against each other as you refuse to step too far away from him, the creature screeching immediately drawing your attention.

"Three o'clock! Three o'clock!" Lucas yells.

"What!?" You shout, refusing to take your eyes off the creature that had been at ten o'clock.

"There's another one at three o'clock!"

More screeching stops your heart, freezing the blood in your veins. You and Steve immediately go back-to-back, you raising your bat and readying yourself to swing. "Fuck," you hear Steve curse. "There's a whole goddamn pack of them."

"This was a mistake, Steve!" You take a moment to ready yourself, tensing your muscles. A beat passes and you're forced to swing as the first demodog lunges at you.

The kids and Billy start screaming, telling you and Steve to get back on the bus. But the demodogs just keep lunging and lunging, hoping to take a bite out of you or your brother.

"Did you bring your lighter?" Steve asks.

"Did you tell me too?!"

He disappears from your back, only for one of the demodogs to lunge on your vulnerable spot. The bus' occupants yell as you fall to your knees, twisting your body to swing your bat wildly in hopes of connecting with something. You manage to get the nails stuck into the body of one demodog, only for another to attach itself to your calf.

You scream out in pain, but then Steve is there shoving the end of his crowbar into its body and taking your bat as you collapse forward onto your hands.

"You good?"

"Y-Yeah. Sort of." The nightmarish clicking of one of the creatures sounds directly in front of you and your head snaps up, only to come face to face with a demodog. "S-Steve?"

"Dart!" The demodog flinches back at the shout of its name, stalling just long enough for hands to grasp your arms.

"Move your ass, little Harrington. Now!"

Billy practically drags you back onto the bus as Steve keeps the demodogs at bay with your bat, then jumping into the bus himself when the doorway is clear. The door is slammed shut behind him, but the demodogs are still ravenous and angry.

"What the hell were you guys thinking?!" Billy explodes as he lets you go to lean against a crumbling seat.

"It was only supposed to be one!" Steve shouts back at him.

Glass breaks and the kids scamper away from the windows, but then something lands on the roof, dents forming as something walks across it. Max follows and ends up standing right under the roof access where the ladder is, and screams when a demodog lowers its snarling head inside.

"Max!" Surprisingly it's Billy who jumps into action, pulling Max away from the opening and putting her behind him.

Steve, still with your bat in hand, rushes in front of Billy and readies to swing. But suddenly the demodog looks up and out into the woods, making its clicking noise before launching itself off the bus. The kids rush to the windows, only to see the rest of the demodogs run off into the woods.

"Did they- did we scare them off?" Dustin asks.

"No. They're running to something," Steve says as he stares off towards where they disappeared. "Like they were called away."

You groan. "Just what we need- a bigger monster calling the shots. Can we get out of here now? I'm still bleeding."

"Shit." Dustin immediately removes his jacket and moves to wrap it around your calf.

"Thanks, kid."

Putting weight on your leg makes you wince, but you follow the crowd off the bus with Billy at your back as Lucas grabs your backpack to put on.

"We need to follow them," Steve says.

"Like hell we do. YN can hardly walk," Billy seethes.

"I-I'm good. Don't worry about me." You limp forward a few more steps and grunt out in pain before you're being swept up into arms.

"No, you're not." Billy situates you so one arm is under your knees and the other supporting your back. "You shitheads do whatever you have to do. I'll take YN home and patch up her leg."

"What about- what about me?" Max nervously asks.

Billy stares at her and huffs. "Do what you have to do with the nerds and then find a phone. Leave a message for your mom, letting her know that we're having a sleepover at Harrington's place and leave their number for her."

"Oh. Okay. Yeah." Max turns to walk off with her friends, but then turns around at the last second. "Thanks, Billy."

"Yeah, yeah. Just don't die." Then before he can walk away, he calls out, "Hey Steve? She's your responsibility. Bring her back to your place in one piece or I'm kicking your ass."

Steve gives Billy a lazy thumbs up and you snort a laugh. Then loosely wrapping your arms around Billy's neck, you say, "Hurry it up, Hargrove. I rather not meet another demodog while we're defenseless."

Billy tenses for a split second before he actually picks up speed and rushes back to his car. You tell him to put you down when he reaches his car and then slide into his passenger seat while he hurries to the driver's side.

The drive to your house starts off quiet and you pray you're not bleeding all over the car.

"So.." Billy drawls once he can't take the quiet anymore, "that wasn't a dog."

You snort. "Nope. Definitely not a dog. Baby demogorgon, it looked like."

"And you fought one that was like eight feet tall before?"

"Yep."

A moment of silence passes and then, "I can't believe we moved from California to monster-infested Indiana."

Your head lolls to the side to stare at Billy as you chuckle. "Welcome to the party, Hargrove. You're officially one of the outcasts now."

#billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove imagine #stranger things imagine #billy hargrove #steve harrington #stranger things #nancy wheeler #jonathan byers #dustin henderson #lucas sinclair #max mayfield

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