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retrobutterflies · 2 years

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Menace | e.m.

Eddie Munson x Female!Reader

Summary: Telling a guy at a party that you have a boyfriend doesn't seem to deter him. Probably because that guy is your boyfriend and you're too drunk to realize.

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: Drinking, Major Fluff, Established Relationship, Cute pet names

A/N: Don't ever settle for a relationship if they wouldn't do your night routine for you.

The music was starting to give Steve a headache. Gone were the days of being the keg king and beer pong master, first to have a drink and last to stumble his way home. Now suddenly he was more worried about drunk Robin asking people far too personal questions and even drunker you deciding to play another drinking game because you liked that it had cards in it.

"Please, I'm sincerely begging you, Y/N, just sit down–" you interjected with a whine, staring up at him with heartbroken eyes.

"Steve, the game just started. I didn't even break the circle–" a loud hiccup cut off your slurred protests making Robin let out a squeaking laugh from the seat next to you.

Steve let out a tired sigh, squeezing his eyes shut for a minute before zeroing in on the two of you.

"Well, we're gonna play a new game. It's called sit here while Steve makes a phone call," he said, eyes flickering from yours, wide and disgruntled, to Robin's, half lidded from the joint he had found in her hand, not a clue where she got it from.

"It sounds awful," you grumbled, crossing your arms over your chest and sinking back into the couch.

"Yeah the name sucks," Robin said, picking up an unfinished drink from the side table next to the couch. Steve snatched it from her before she could press it to her lips because it wasn't her drink and she had thrown in her half smoked joint not even thirty seconds before, the rolled blunt floating around in the dark liquid.

"Rob, stop trying to drink everything you see. You're not aquatic," he hissed, harshly dropping the drink on a table out of her reach.

"Well maybe I'm dehydrated, Steve. You gonna let me die of thirst?" she quipped back, eyes blinking slowly revealing red rimmed irises.

"Then I'll get you a water, Robin," he hissed back, eyes narrowing at her. "But first let me make one single phone call, okay? You're not gonna die of thirst in three minutes."

"I might! I feel my cells disintegrating as we speak!" she exclaimed, eyes wide. You turned to look at her, mouth dropping open slight in horror.

"Disintegrating?" you repeated.

"Every moment that passes–POOF. Another mitochondria bites the dust," she confirmed, giving you a sad smile and a shrug.

"No–" Steve pinched the bridge of his nose.

"That's terrible," you expressed, lips pouting and looking to Steve with an expression of alarm. "That's so sad."

"The saddest," she nodded again as Steve muttered an incredulous "Oh my god."

"We need to do something, Steve! Her mitochondria!"

"My mitochondria, Steve!" Robin echoed you, tone mocking as she smirked at him. Steve felt his headache growing steadily.

"Fine! Fine! I'll go get you a drink! Just stay on this fucking couch. Got it?" When neither of you protested, eyes flickering back and forth between your faces he added a strict Stay like you would a disobedient dog.

He hurried to find the house phone, knowing his timeframe was limited before the two of you wandered off in opposite directions, giving him another wild good chase to corral you together. It was late and he was tired and he desperately needed to call in some back up.

Punching in the numbers, Steve cast distasteful looks at the not so innocent sounds emanating from the bathroom adjacent from the landline. The phone rang for a while, making him fear no one was going to answer until finally the receiver picked up.

"Munson residence," the chirpy voice of Eddie Munson had Steve releasing a short-lived sigh of relief.

"Eddie, it's Steve," he said, pressing close to the wall to avoid two girls swaying dangerously and stumbling past him with mirroring green faces.

"Stevie! To what do I owe this pleasure?" Eddie seemed to be eating something as his words were slightly muffled.

"I need you to come get your girlfriend." He tried not to sound like he was begging even though that's exactly what he was doing.

There was shuffling on the line before Eddie's voice rang out clear, "She okay?"

Steve fought the urge to roll his eyes. "She's fine just plastered," he thought for a moment before adding with exasperation, "and like obsessed with card games. And really bad at them so she keeps losing and drinking more."

Eddie's charmed laugh sounded over the static of the receiver. Steve wanted to pull his hair out. Of course Eddie found anything you did endearing. You could insult Black Sabbath and he would still look at you like you put the stars in the sky. You had him completely under your enchantment.

"Just make sure she's not taking any," Eddie replied, his smile drenching his tone.

"Taking any what?"

"Card decks. She likes to collect them."

Steve was quiet. Eddie was quiet. Then Eddie laughed again and Steve had to resist banging his head against the wall.

"Eddie. I'm begging you. Please, just, come pick her up," he said through clenched teeth.

It didn't take Eddie long to reach the house party. You had mentioned where you were going earlier that night, commenting that it wasn't too far from where Corroded Coffin was playing and that maybe he could stop by after. He had agreed under the impression that you would probably be home by the time he was finished because it was far later than you were usually out. So he had headed home thinking you were in bed until Steve had called.

And now he was weaving through a legion of drunk high schoolers, on his way to relieve a very stressed sounding Steve from his never-ending babysitter duties. You were sat on a couch, arms crossed as you glared at Steve and Robin endlessly bickering about something. When Steve saw him he called him over.

"I'm taking Robin home. Good luck with that one because she snuck another drink in when I wasn't looking," Steve grumbled, hooking his arm through Robin's as she whined at him.

"What if I don't want to go home," Robin shot at him, eye brows raising.

"I don't care. It's late and I'm tired so we're leaving," he stated, tugging her towards the door.

"You're not the governor of the universe, Steve."

Eddie watched their retreating forms before turning his attention back on you. Your gaze seemed far away as you looked forward, not seeming to have even noticed his presence. He took few steps towards you before sinking into the seat next to you.

"Hey, trouble," he said, reaching out a hand to brush softly against your cheek.

You pulled away like you had been burned and turned to give him a glare. He lost his breath for a moment, confused by the sudden hostility.

"Can you leave me alone?" Your voice was slurred but it didn't conceal the overt bite to your tone. He felt a bubble of hurt grow in his chest, hand dropping to his lap.

"You want me to leave you alone?" he echoed, slightly bewildered. Hours before coming here you were pouting at him for not being able to join, acting as though it would physically hurt you to be away from him for a night. And now, suddenly, you didn't want him here? Were you mad at him for abandoning you?"

"Yeah. I have a boyfriend, so, you can leave," you bit back. He blinked at you, digesting your words, before relaxing. Your glassy eyes gave no indication that you realized it was him. You weren't mad at him, you were mad at the thought of a random guy bothering you at this party. He couldn't conceal his grin.

"Oh, yeah? What's his name?" he asked, playing along as the tension eased from his body. He wanted to reach out and push your hair behind your ear but restrained himself.

"Eddie. Eddie Munson. And he'll beat you up if he finds out you're bothering me," you proclaimed, arms crossed tightly over your chest as you glared at him, or however many versions of him you were seeing with your blurred vision.

"He will, will he?" he felt giddy at your admission.

He had had moments in your year long relationship where he let his insecurity eat away at him. You were beautiful and kind and alluring. You unconsciously had people gravitating towards you and sometimes he worried that one day someone would turn your head and steal you away from him. But seeing you be so cold to someone even attempting to have a conversation with you, bringing him up immediately, had his heart selfishly warming.

"Yeah and he's on his way to come get me. So try your luck with someone else," you concluded, words slightly garbled as you gave him your best glare.

"How many drinks have you had, trouble?" he asked, laughing incredulously. Your steely glare hardened. You unfolded your arms to poke him harshly in the shoulder.

"You don't get to call me that. Only my boyfriend can call me that," you stated, poking him again for good measure. It didn't hurt him but he feigned pain anyway, hand flying to his shoulder as he sunk back like he was shot.

He opened his mouth to respond but suddenly you were clambering your way off the couch, form swaying as the alcohol in your system made your vision spin. Eddie was up next to you in an instant, gripping your elbows to steady you.

"Easy, sugar. Don't want you face planting," he murmured, trying to bit back his laugh. You halfheartedly swatted him away, making him remove his hands from you only to hover them behind you in case you started swaying again.

"I just told you not to touch me. I'll beat you up myself if I have to," you said, giving his shoulder a light shove that had you stumbling instead of it's intended affect. Eddie ghosted his hands behind your back as you righted yourself, eyes dancing over your flushed face and glazed eyes.

You marched away from him, dead set on avoiding him and finding something to do until your actual boyfriend showed up. Eddie followed behind you like a shadow, eyes alight in amusement as he waited for you to finally realize it was him. You were nearly oblivious to your surroundings, bumping into people, stumbling over loose cans littering the floor. He followed behind, one hand floating to press your back lightly when you wobbled and the other pressing bodies away so you could move easier through the crowd.

When you found the front door and burst out into the cool air of the autumn night, you whirled around to give your stalker a piece of your mind only to freeze when you noticed his wiry curls and amused smirk.

"Eddie!" you breathed, voice airy and light as you tumbled towards him, arms flying to wrap around his neck. He let out a boisterous laugh, arms snaking around your midsection as he squeezed you tight, lifting you slightly from the ground.

"Hi, pretty," he breathed, face nuzzling into your neck to leave a few searing kisses. You molded into him, body relaxing and contented sigh seeping through your smiling lips.

"Eddie, what took you so long! There was this annoying creep who wouldn't leave me alone," you whined, breathing in his cologne and the faint smell of cigarettes. His chuckle vibrated into your neck making chills run up your spine. You pressed in tighter, addicted to his touch.

"Did you tell him to fuck off?" he asked, playing along, smirk widening as he pulled back, finally allowing himself to brush wild pieces of hair behind your ears.

"Told him I'd fight him," you replied and he gave you a bright grin.

"Good girl," he said, pinching your cheek lightly, before leaning in to press his lips to yours. You preened at the praise, stepping on tip toes to deepen the kiss that was making your head fuzzy. He smoothed both his hands on the sides of your face, thumbs resting on the apples of your cheeks, pecking your lips a few more times for good measure before he was reluctantly pulling back.

"Let's get you home, yeah, trouble?" You nodded, eager to go anywhere with him. He took your hand, pressing a kiss to the back of it before tugging you in the direction of his truck.

The drive to your house was filled with you animatedly recounting the party to Eddie, who listened with a soft smile on his face. There were moments where your slightly slurred speech and foggy memory made your stories hard to follow but anytime you laughed he did too, your glee contagious and endearing. He had to scold himself to pay attention to the road a few times when he felt his gaze being reeled in like sailor to a siren.

When you arrived at your home, you handed him your bag claiming your keys were somewhere in its depth. He turned the ignition off, the both of you sitting in the car as the heat slowly seeped into the chill of the night. He opened your bag and let out an incredulous laugh. At least three decks of cards were shoved into your small purse, stolen from a fair few disgruntled partygoers who probably wouldn't have suspected you as the thief in the slightest.

"You're a menace, you know that?" he commented, pushing the decks to the side so he could reach for the set of keys glinting at the bottom of the bag. You pouted at him, no clue what he was referring to. He chuckled, leaning over the inner consul to press a sweet kiss to your lips. "A cute one, but a menace."

"C'mon. Let get you inside," he said, unlocking the doors. You were nearly putting all of your weight on him as you headed to the front door of your house, body slung around him like a backpack. He had one arm wrapped around your back, pressing kisses to the top of your head every few steps, your bag looped over his shoulder.

As he fumbled with the lock, keys rattling against the metal of the doorknob, you mumbled something about your family being away when he winced at the noise he was making. And once you were inside, door shut behind you, he flicked on a few switches, lighting up the empty house. He dropped your bag and keys on the small table by the door before turning towards you.

With both arms wrapping around you, he bent slightly, his hands moving to cradle the backs of your thighs.

"Up," he commanded. You jumped, letting him hoist you into his arms as you wrapped yours around his neck, legs hooking his waist.

"'M, tired," you mumbled into his shoulder. His chest vibrated as he chuckled, taking cautious steps up towards the second floor.

"I bet. It's nearly two," he replied and you humphed in response. When he made it to your room, he slowly released his hold on you, letting you slide down until your feet touched the ground. You whined against him, not liking the idea of not being completely wrapped up in him.

"Need to get you ready for bed, sugar," he said, reaching around behind his neck to pry your arms away. You whined again but had little strength to resist him. He nudged you forward until the backs of your legs met your bed, causing you to reluctantly sit down, the mattress dipping slightly.

He crouched down so he could rest his weight on his knees, the carpet of your floor cushioning them. You were blinking slowly down at him like you were fighting against sleep. Hand wrapping around your ankle, he undid the laces and slipped off your sneaker, dropping it to the side. He repeated the action with your other shoe.

"I'm gonna get you something to change into, okay?" he said, pushing up from the floor. He kicked off his own shoes next to yours, pulling off his vest and then his jacket, draping them over your desk chair.

Your room was yards cleaner than his own and starkly different. Remnants of your childhood were woven together with band and movie posters, shelves of books, and colorful post-its and polaroids taped to your mirror. He spotted his face in many of them, heart warming each time he noticed yet another one of him you managed to find room for.

He headed for your dresser, pulling drawers open at random trying to find something for you to sleep in. His cheeks warmed at the drawer of underwear he yanked open, the pretty pastels and swirling lace making him swallow harshly. He wasn't here to be creepy he was here to be a doting boyfriend. He opened a few more until he found one of his shirts he thought he had misplaced. Menace, he thought.

When he turned around you had already begun slipping off your pants, kicking around until they flew off your ankles. He walked over to you as you were pulling your shirt over your head. His Adam's apple bobbed as his eyes trailed down the straps of your bra to the curves of your chest, heat rising on the back of his neck. He cleared his throat, averting his eyes as he chided himself. Now was not the time for that. He heard you undo your bra and kept his gaze on your sleepy eyes as he handed you the black T-shirt. You slipped it on without protest.

"Alright, now to the bathroom," he said, patting the side of your bare thigh.

"But I'm tired," you groaned, wrinkling your nose at the idea of exerting more energy.

"I know, trouble, but you still have your makeup on," he said, leaning over to take your hand in his. He held his other one out and you reluctantly grabbed it, letting him pull you up. He maneuvered the both of you into the bathroom. You wobbled against him, eyes squinting shut at the harshness of the overhead light. He let go of your hands to slide them to the sides of your ribcage. Then he lifted you so you were sat on the counter besides the sink.

“Okay, sleepyhead, I need you to direct me through your night routine,” he said, rubbing his hand on the side of your neck. You looked at him through bleary eyes before looking down at the counter. An assortment of bottles and serums and tubs of cream littered the expanse of the white laminate. You blinked heavily before pointing at one.

“That’s makeup remover,” you said as a yawn over took you. He picked it up, unscrewing the top and then staring blankly at you.

“Do I . . . use my hand?” he asked innocently. You giggled softly, leaning back to rest against the wall.

“No, silly. A cotton pad,” you replied, waving your hand in the direction of the cabinet. He found them, dropping a few as he struggled with the zip lock, before pulling one out. He tipped the clear liquid from the bottle, soaking the cotton pad before turning back to you.

“Eyes shut,” he ordered, stepping closer so your legs parted for his thighs. You followed his instructions, eyes fluttering shut as he brought the pad to your face.

Eddie was nothing if not gently when it came to you. The damp cotton brushed softly over your eyelids, over your eyebrows, down your temples, trailing your jaw, over your lips, and in circles on your cheeks. He could tell you were dozing, needing to move his other hand to frame your jaw so your head wouldn’t lull to the side.

Dropping the dirtied cotton pad in the trash, he grabbed a hand towel and soaked it under the tap. It was warm when he brought it to your face, the stitched loops of the towel swirling around as he wet the skin. Dropping it down, he scanned the array of bottles until he found one clearly labelled face wash. He squeezed probably too much onto his palms before moving to massage it around your face. The gel foaming as he circulated his fingers, tender movements nearly putting you to sleep. Your eyes blinked open, finding his focused on his movements, tongue poking out from between his lips in concentration. A balloon of affection blossomed in your chest.

“You’re my favorite person in the whole world,” you mumbled, blinking slowly at him like cat. His movements slowed as heat rushed to his cheeks at your words.

“Well you’re my favorite person in the whole universe,” he said back, moving to rinse the face wash from his hands. He re-wet the small towel and moved to wipe your face down. You pouted at him.

“That’s not fair. I can’t go any bigger than the universe,” you grumbled, unhappy that he outdid you so quickly. He let out an endeared laugh, hand moving to cup the back of your neck as he wiped the foam from your face.

“I don’t play fair, baby. Not when it comes to professing my undying love to you,” he said making you wrinkle your nose. He leaned in to press a quick kiss to your lips.

“I missed you tonight,” you confessed as he finished cleaning your face. He rinsed the towel in the sink before turning to look at you. Your head was resting against the wall, eyes half lidded in fatigue but glinting prettily under your lashes. He felt his chest tighten at the sight, his breath stalling for a moment at your effortless beauty.

“I always miss you when you’re not around,” you added. He moved to face you, chest coiling in unbridled affection, hands moving to cage your face in. He swiped his thumbs under your eyes, the soft skin glittering from the water.

“Wish I could be with you 24/7 but I don’t want you to get sick of me,” you continued, eyes fluttering up at him. He thought you might really kill him.

“Not even in an alternate dimension could I get sick of you. Not even in a hypothetical scenario. Not even if my life depended on it,” he replied, moving closer until your noses were almost touching. Your hands snaked around his torso, tugging him closer, bunching up the back of his shirt.

“If you’ll have me I’ll probably be up your ass until the end of time,” he added, making a peel of giggles erupt from you. His eyes squinted as he smiled, leaning in to press his lips to yours, your giggles dissolving into his affection.

“Now, no more being cute until we’re done with this,” he said after pressing yet another kiss to your lips. Your swollen lips chased his to steel another, then another before he was squeezing your sides, making you squirm and laugh as he pulled away.

You leaned back against the wall, eyes drooping as he continued, grabbing your moisturizer and spinning open the cap. He repeated his gentle motions over your face, swiping softly around your eyes and smoothing any tension from your face.

“Brush,” you blinked your eyes open noticing him holding out your toothbrush, toothpaste already sitting on the bristles. Your movements were sluggish but you managed, leaning over to spit in the sink before he was handing you a cup of water to rinse.

You were both quiet for a moment. He watched as you leaned your head back, eyes shut. His hands trailed the sides of your thighs, brushing the skin, squeezing slightly, warming them and making goosebumps appear. His eyes danced around your face, taking in your peaceful features. You were breathtaking even when on the edge of sleep. He was completely enamored with you. He never thought someone could have him so enchanted that he would be taking their makeup off before bed and making sure they brushed their teeth but you had sent him one dazzling smile and he was lost in a sea of desire to take care of you for as long as he lived.

“Alright, ready for bed?” he asked, affectionately brushing his thumbs on the tops of your thighs. You nodded, slumping forward to wrap your arms around his neck. He tugged you forward, hands slinking under your thighs to pull you up into his arms.

He laid you gently on your bed, pulling the covers down so you could slip your legs in until he was moving the duvet up over you. He wandered back over to your dresser, digging back into the bottom drawer where he knew a treasure trove of his clothes was hidden, never to be seen in his closet again. He slipped off his pants and then shirt, pulling on an old Van Halen T-shirt, the ratty edges brushing against the waistline of his boxers.

"You're staying, right?" your sleepy voice rang out from the bed. He kicked his pile of clothes to the side, knowing you were going to chide him for it tomorrow.

"Wouldn't dream of leaving," he answered, pulling off his rings, the silver clanking as he dropped them on your desk.

He hurried to shut the lights off before he was crawling in beside you, finding your sleepy body in the dark and pulling you into him. You let out a contented sigh, warm breath tickling his neck, making him pull you in even tighter.

He wasn’t sure how he had gotten so lucky. Nothing seemed to compare to finally being in your arms, breathing in the smell of your perfume and feeling the smoothness of your skin. His lips traced your hairline, leaving soft honeyed kisses around your forehead and down over your eyelids. You smiled into the darkness, tilting your face up in a silent beg for more. He kissed your nose, his eyelashes dusting the tops of your cheeks.

"Love you," you whispered, melting against him and his warm lips. You felt him smile against your cheek.

"Love you more," he whispered back, a kiss following his admiration.

“Love you times a million,” you added, hoping finally to win a battle of affection.

“Love you times infinity,” he replied. You let out a whine at him one-upping you yet again but he just chuckled in fondness, teeth nipping at the plumpness of your cheek until he was seeking out your lips again, to press a dozen more kisses until you inevitably fell under the spell of sleep, dreaming about him and his big brown eyes and warm kisses and how very very lucky you were.

Link to my masterlist :)

#eddie munson x reader #eddie x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson x yn #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x female!reader #eddie munson x y/n #stranger things fic #stranger things imagine #stranger things one shot #stranger things fanfic

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hemmingsleclerc · 3 months

Text

Reaction┃Charles Leclerc

summary: Charles finds out about Emma's interview on DTS

pt 2!!

The racing season had come to an end and Charles was enjoying some well-deserved time off at home with his wife and young daughter.

One lazy afternoon, they decided to catch up on a recently released movie. They settled into the double bed that he shared with his wife, turned on the TV and were ready to spend an afternoon of relaxation.

As the movie started, Charles scrolled through his phone and casually checked social media. Suddenly, the familiar sound of his phone ringing interrupted the quiet afternoon. Confused, he picked it up and saw numerous notifications flooding in. Curiosity piqued, he opened Twitter and found himself tagged in a video from the latest episode of "Drive to Survive."

He clicked on the video and his confusion grew as the scene unfolded. The camera focused on a familiar face, but it wasn't Charles. It was his daughter, Emma Jules, standing in front of the camera with a small microphone and a huge smile.

Charles leaned forward and his eyes widened in surprise. The interviewer began to ask Emma about her father and what he was like outside the track. Innocent but revealing answers came out of Emma's mouth.

"My daddy is the best here," she began saying, her eyes shining with sincerity.''Sometimes he sings very loud in the car or in the shower. But you know what? He's not very good at it!"

''"He likes to dance while he's cooking with mommy, and he snores really loud when he's asleep. It's funny!"

Charles watched in horror as Emma talked about his private quirks and habits.

''He also cries a lot at Disney or animal movies, or is more interested in playing with my toys than I am. ''

Charles exchanged a bewildered glance with Y/N, who grinned, clearly finding the situation amusing. Emma continued, unaware of her father's growing embarrassment.

''Please tell me I'm dreaming, that Emma didn't actually just say that'' Charles said.

''Sometimes we tell mommy that we are going to grand-mére's house but in reality he takes me to buy new dolls or ice cream.''

''!Wait, what did she just say?'' Y/N asked with a frown.

''Nothing mon-amour, you know how children are, they invent everything'' Charles laughed nervously, trying to avoid his wife's accusatory gaze.

''So that's what they did on the weekends, huh?''

''I have no idea what she's talking about, I swear''

''He also likes to help me make friendship bracelets for my friend and also lets me do his hair and makeup with my princess makeup set that santa gave me for Christmas, he always says that he looks very cute.''

''Jesus Christ, this is not happening, I'm gonna die''

By this point, Y/N couldn't contain her laughter and Charles's face turned several shades of red as he tried to comprehend what had just happened. He didn't expect his daughter to become the star of "Drive to Survive" in such an unexpected way.

The camera then panned slightly, revealing Charles in the background, completely unaware that he was being featured in his daughter's candid interview.

"Looks like you've been exposed, my love."

''!Emma Jules Leclerc, come here right now! You're grounded for life!''

@barcelonaloverf1life

@llando4norris

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twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat · 5 months

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how deep is your devotion? ; satoru gojo

synopsis; you’re his knight, and he’s your prince. if only it were that simple.

word count; 6.6k

contents; satoru gojo/reader, gn!reader, royalty au (..but no effort put into making it historically accurate in any way oops), knight!reader x prince!toru!!, childhood friends, mutual pining, fluffy overall, some hurt/comfort too, vague allusions to abuse (reader is punished by one of the castle maids as a child but it’s only really hinted at), knight!reader is horrendously devoted but prince!gojo is arguably worse, he would burn the world down if u asked nicely <3

a/n; big big BIG thank u to @softgirlgonehaywire for having the biggest brain in the world and infecting me w this concept <33 if u pay attention while reading u can tell the exact moment i started slowly spiraling into insanity

you are five years old when you meet the prince.

five years old, a mere child, and too young to be blinded by such brilliance. too young to be where you are; curled up in a dark alley, back against a grimy brick wall, covered in bruises. like a beaten dog — scrawny and afraid. waiting for a strike that never comes.

the boy in front of you is also five years old, but you don’t know that. something in him looks older, somehow, something in the way he carries himself. like he doesn’t have anything to be afraid of. like he’s never even felt fear. he parts his lips and speaks like he has the right to, like he’s comfortable in his own skin, a radiance so blinding you could mistake him for the sun. too much for you to bear.

”does it hurt?”

the words fall on deaf ears. but you flinch, your body reacts, a tremble down your tiny spine. you hear the sound but not the words. too mesmerized, too paralyzed, unable to look away from the blue of his eyes, painted with rich watercolour hues. seeping into the world around you like ink on paper, cobalt and aquamarine and something else, something you’ve never seen before —

a blue so jarring it makes you shiver.

the boy has an innocent face. almost girlish, plump cheeks and long lashes, clean clothes and smooth skin. a little too pretty to be out here, you think, in this part of town — too pure to be anywhere near someone like you. he’s above you, that much you can tell. a pretty, innocent face, untouched by dirt or ache; the face of royalty. an entirely different species.

there’s something keen in his eyes, a contrast to his childlike features. a sharp gaze, something that sees through you, something that won’t look away. something mildly frightening. enough to have you cowering in fear, hugging your knees closer to your chest.

but then he smiles. and it’s sincere. sweet, vibrant, all honey and milk and a world you cannot reach.

a smile so captivating you take his outstretched hand, and let him drag you away to god-knows-where.

(that's how it begins. the dynamic that’ll follow you into your adult lives; satoru takes the lead, and you follow. no matter where he’s going.)

satoru gojo, as you soon come to learn, is the prince of the nation you reside in. the only child of the royal family, born with talent and prestige, fame and fortune, set to become king. a different species, indeed.

but he brings you home with him, to a castle so grand you feel as if your very presence is an insult to the architects who designed it, and convinces his parents to let you stay. it’s surprising, but you don’t protest; following him like a puppy at his trail. and he’s stubborn, insistent, demanding that he get to keep said puppy.

the king and queen don’t care one way or another. they glance at you with apathy, and tell satoru to do what he wants — but convincing the scary and displeased castle maids takes some work.

satoru doesn’t waver, though. he holds your hand in his, and demands that you be treated with respect.

and he wins. he always wins.

that’s how you become the prince’s playmate. raised alongside him, allowed to stay close, eat from the same food. he won’t settle for anything less. defending your honour, always, before you even know what honour means. before you care.

time passes slowly. joyously. every day is a new adventure, as you attempt to get used to the miracle that is your new life — sweet and silky, apricot blossoms and fresh peaches, duvet pillows and a bubbly laughter you didn’t know you still had. he coaxes it out of you, with every secret midnight outing, every bout of mischief he drags you both into.

satoru has nice hands, uncalloused palms, fingers that grasp yours and don’t let go. he takes you outside, to see the stars, to catch fireflies in the dark of night on top of the hill that oversees the castle. to take a dip in the river just below it, gleaming a silver hue under the blue shade of the moon. you worry about getting in trouble, but he reassures you — the prince can do what he wants.

that might be true, but you are no prince. not even close. satoru may safeguard you, but all you’ll ever be in the eyes of the world is a stray he got to keep.

and one time, only one time, you do face the repercussions of your midnight outings. you, and you alone. a bad influence — seething words, buzzing in your ears. an angry castle maid, and a stinging pain in your cheek. blurry tears.

but that’s an incident no one in the castle dares to speak of.

(you’ll never forget that look in his eyes.)

satoru is an odd boy. he keeps you close, always, clinging to you like he needs you to breathe. you don’t understand why, but you’ve learned not to question him. the castle guards all know you as the prince’s best friend, and some part of you knows that’s all you’ll ever amount to. but you don’t mind.

because you love him. at five years old, six years old, seven and beyond, you love him. satoru gojo, the kindest boy in the stratosphere.

a boy who keeps finding you, no matter where you are, who tugs you along as naturally as the rise of the sun. who raids kitchen cabinets with you and always makes you laugh, little giggles and chuckles that have him beaming proudly. a boy who cleans your wounds with a serious expression, and tells you that he’ll protect you forever.

(you tell yourself the same. that you’ll protect him forever and ever, until you run out of air to breathe. a boy so sweet you’d die for him.)

a pledge is made. you make it before you know what a pledge is. pledging to protect him, to become his sword, because even as a child you understand that his life will be difficult. you see it in the dullness that sometimes comes over his eyes, the apathy of his so-called parents, the hours he spends locked up with nothing but a pile of dusty books to keep him company.

so you decide to become his knight. his, and his alone.

it’s challenging. but you push through; training with another aspiring knight, miles better than you, black hair tousled by the breeze as he knocks you off your feet for the thirtieth consecutive time. wincing as the girl who sometimes watches your sparring patches you up, soft hands cleaning your wounds so tenderly that you almost choke up.

and eventually, as the apricot blossoms of the castle orchard wilt and bloom over and over in a flurry of pure white, your dream comes true.

there’s something playful in satoru’s eyes, when he places his blade on the curve of your shoulder. something sweet and fond, and just a little bit ironic — as if you’re still seven years old, and playing house.

you want to tell him that it isn’t a joke. that you’re serious, about this, that you’d tear your stomach open to keep him safe. but you know he’d just laugh. so you let the words clog up your throat, honey-sweet devotion sticking to the walls of your esophagus. breathing in through your nose, as he speaks. as the words you’ve waited to hear flow from his glossy lips.

when all is said and done, satoru smiles. he calls you his little knight, and you can tell that he’s teasing you. indulging you, as if he’s in on some joke that you aren’t. but you’ll take what you can get.

you call him my prince, expecting him to laugh it off, but his smile begins to fall. and a pang of ache rushes through your soul, instantaneous, guilty, although you don’t understand why.

so you keep calling him satoru. even though it’s more than a little unprofessional, and you become painfully accustomed to receiving a few judgemental looks here and there. a knight and a prince shouldn’t be so very close, they think, and you don’t disagree. but there’s nothing they can do about it, anyhow.

the prince and his knight can do what they want.

not much changes. you’re his knight, but he treats you the same as before. he’s playful, a little goofy, and you indulge him. as always. attached at the hip, bickering and bantering, bouncing off each other effortlessly. and satoru never bothers to hide your history, the soft spot he has for you; it’s in every fleeting glance, soft tilt of his head, teasing call of ah, there’s my favorite knight.

(you’re no stranger to jealous looks. sometimes a pout on the lips of a pretty girl, a crease between the brows of one of your fellow knights. and sometimes a glare, from his fiancée — a woman he was engaged to before he was old enough to speak.

but you don’t mind. you’ve never cared what anyone but satoru thinks of you.)

satoru never loses his smile, that effortless air of confidence. the charm that makes people want to follow him, a charisma you know well. one you fell victim to at five years of age. he’s still just a prince, far from being a king, but he receives the same respect.

and that keen, sharp glimmer in his eyes never quite goes away; the hardened shell around his heart unbroken. you see it in fleeting glances, during meetings, ones he allows you to attend despite your status. when he speaks to a room of people with more power than you can imagine, his voice unwavering. back straight. elegant, serious, the presence of royalty — enough to receive respect without even trying.

but he still shoots you a smile, easygoing, when your eyes meet. one only you can see.

as for you, the step into knighthood is a clumsy one. but you take your duties seriously, and adjust properly. a deep devotion runs through your veins, from your beating heart down to the tips of your fingers, where a sword lies clutched. you keep it close, always, ready to serve. to obey. to protect.

all of it for one person.

all you do is for him. duels in his honour, beasts slain for his peace of mind, and he’s always there to welcome you back. wiping the blood from your cheek, tenderly, smearing his untainted skin with red; all while he looks at you softly, a coo or word of praise waltzing on the tip of his tongue.

that’s only for when you remain unscathed, though, when the blood on your cheek isn’t your own. when you get hurt, it’s different — something begins to brew inside his eyes, and you can’t tell what it is. but he insists on bandaging you himself, paying no mind to your meek protests.

sometimes, you’re more reckless than usual. your injuries worse. sometimes he looks upset, angry with you, and doesn’t speak. you don’t, either.

a strange look comes over his eyes, every now and then. when you get down on one knee, to kiss his hand, the metal of the ring on his finger — and if you look up, you’ll see it. simmering inside those blue depths, something just as fond as it is sad. troubled, you think.

(something tells you he’d kneel, too, if only you’d let him.)

the bond between you remains intact. even as you begin to shoulder more responsibilities, more duties, even though you don’t have as much freedom as you used to. even though you seem to get less time to spend with each other every single day. but you stay together, even so; just like when you were children, running around and causing trouble, more than you could get away with now.

despite everything, satoru has grown up into a fine man. and you couldn't be prouder.

“do you think i look good in black? be honest.”

you throw him a glance. curious, somewhat perplexed, eyeing him up and down.

satoru is wearing a white blouse, puffy sleeves and a low neckline, showing off the skin of his bare chest. no black colours to be seen. you think back to that banquet he attended last month, forced into an expensively tailored black coat. a corset around his waist. and then you hum.

“sure you do.”

”suguru said it makes me look like a try-hard,” he scoffs, crossing his arms. tilting his head in your direction. ”do you think he’s jealous?”

”definitely.”

a moment passes.

satoru narrow his eyes, and gives you a dubious look. clicking his tongue. ”… something tells me you aren’t taking this seriously.”

”i am,” you assure him, a lazy smile at your lips. meeting his gaze, that displeased little pout. still smoothing a brush down the mane of your horse, the smell of hay soothing your muddled senses. ”just tired. you look good in anything. you know that.”

he hums. silent, the sound of a spring breeze filling in the gaps.

it’s late. outside the stables, the world is engulfed by a dark sky, almost too murky to see anything. hazy stars glimmer in the distance, and a sense of fatigue gnaws at your bones. it’s been a long day, and yet you’re here — doing even more work. just a little more.

and satoru’s right there with you. even though he’s just sitting there, on the floor, not lifting a finger to help. not that he has to. insistent on spending some quality time with you, keeping you company. just talking and munching on the food he snuck in, bread and cheese and an expensive bottle of wine, that he leaves completely untouched. he tries to leave some of everything else for you, though. keyword being tries.

a sense of peace simmers in the air. palpable, almost enough to taste, as midnight air streams in from the opened doors, chilly and pleasant on your skin. ruffling the thin fabric of your clothing.

and it’s nice, you think, just to have satoru there — talking about this and that, complaining about all the annoying people he had to meet yesterday, yawning every now and then. nostalgic. like this, it almost feels like you're still kids. back when you spent every single hour of the day by each other’s side.

it’s been a long time since you got the chance to speak like this. satoru’s been busy, and so have you. more so than usual.

”are they running you ragged?” he suddenly asks, and you don’t realize you’ve spent the last minute staring into space. resuming your brushing, with steady hands, but turning your head to meet his gaze.

”need me to…” he makes a slicing motion with his hand, right over his throat. a glint of mischief in his eyes. ”handle it?”

and you scoff. amused, but answering him seriously; unsure if his question is all-together humorous, if it doesn’t carry a hint of something genuine too. ”of course not.”

there’s a weariness in the way you blink. the way you pet the animal in front of you, having finished getting the dirt and blood clots out of her mane. she lays down in her stall, and you smile. turning around to rest your back against the wooden border between you, a respite for your aching bones.

it gets just a little bit tiring, sometimes. fighting, patrolling, helping townsfolk. protecting the castle, making sure everything is in order. killing whatever needs to be killed. cleaning the stained silver of your sword.

but…

”it’s my duty,” you answer, seriously, and it comes out sounding like a vow. because it is.

you avoid his gaze, but you can feel it, as you pick up the wine bottle by your feet and pop the cork. soft moonlight flits in from the windows, illuminating the green glass. a chartreuse glow that reminds you of fireflies, shimmering in your grasp, and for some reason it soothes your heart.

satoru only hums, far from approving. popping a piece of cheese into his mouth.

after a brief pause, he continues. ”you don’t have to be so serious all the time, you know.” his voice comes out a little raspy. it’s got a certain tilt to it, one that means he wants you to take him seriously. ”not around me.”

you take a sip of the wine. expensive, blood red. it’s too sweet for your taste, heavy on your tongue.

”… i’m less serious with you than i am with others.”

satoru sits up a little straighter.

”yeah?” he grins, a kind of satisfaction blooming in his eyes. cerulean and sweet. almost smug, you think, like the cat that got the cream. ”that’s good. you really should loosen up, though.”

a glance. fleeting, just to see him — but he isn’t looking at you. he’s looking outside, through the opened window, at the sway of the apricot trees. white petals flitting in, landing by his feet. in his hair.

when his eyes meet yours, they’re smoothed over by that something you can never put your finger on. a blend between longing and fondness. crinkled at the edges.

”you’ve got a pretty smile,” he exhales. ”be a shame not to show it off.”

when you look at him, really look at him, you see it. that fatigue. it slips out when he talks to you, a sincere way of speaking that never quite allows him to hide his emotions. you hear the hint of a yawn, can practically feel the weight on his shoulders. the weight of an entire nation. a weight he was always bound to carry.

(you could never bring yourself to be even remotely alright with it.)

“have you been doing okay?” you ask, and satoru blinks. there’s a soft look in your eyes, as they trail over the contours of his face, his lashes catching the light of the stars. an innocent, pretty face. but he looks tired. frail. like he hasn’t been sleeping properly.

something rotten bubbles up inside your throat.

”they’re running you ragged, too,” you say, hand settling on your hip. where your sword usually is. unconsciously, on instinct — or maybe just to make him laugh. ”need me to step in?”

satoru chuckles. husky, mellow. dripping with soft amusement.

”settle down, little knight.”

a moment passes. silent. his eyes flutter shut, for a second, and a breath slips from his lips. almost a sigh. in the distance, you hear the quiet coo of an owl.

”of course,” he eventually answers, opening his eyes. and you think he looks a little resigned. but smiling. self-deprecating, you think, although he’d like you to assume otherwise. ”all of it is just preparation, anyhow.”

a flimsy smile, as he looks into your knowing eyes. ”it’s what i was born for, wasn’t it?”

you purse your lips.

“… i don’t think so.”

another chuckle. a little delighted, this time.

“yeah,” he cranes his neck, emitting a low groan. “me neither.” something sweet blossoms in his eyes, sweet like the crunch of the apple he bites into, juice dribbling down his chin. ”but it is what it is.”

a beat. you part your lips, trying to find the right words. ”tell me if there's anything i can do,” you settle on. the same words you always choose. ”anything at all.”

satoru smiles. “right.” his voice carries a teasing tilt; almost a purr. ”there’s nothing you wouldn't do for me, hm?”

“— there isn’t.” you smile. “nothing at all.”

he blinks. a little dazed, for a second, and you watch as his ears redden. slight, enough for you to notice, but gone before you can bring it up. a contemplation smooths over his features. and a pleasant breeze flits in, ruffling his hair, apricot petals kissing up his skin. he looks at the apple in his hands.

then he sighs. placing his palms on his knees, and rising to his feet. his arms twitch, muscular beneath the flimsy blouse, and you gulp. although you aren’t sure why.

“alright, then.” his eyes flicker in the dim light, sharp and decisive. he crosses over to you with long strides. “there is something you can do.”

when he’s close enough, satoru reaches out his hand; opening his palm. a silent beckoning. you look at him, not saying a word. his expression is unreadable.

then you intertwine your fingers with his. unquestioningly, even in the midst of your confusion.

(it reminds you of that day. when he pulled you up to your feet, held your hand in his and refused to let go. leading you to the promise of something better.)

no matter where he goes, you follow.

and satoru grins. it’s sweet, just like back then, a smile so vibrant you wish you could tuck it into your sleeve and keep it there forever. he curls his fingers around yours, gentle, fondness bubbling up inside his eyes. for a second, you think you see the sun.

“come with me.”

at first, you truly aren’t sure where he’s going to take you. hand in hand, you begin to walk, feeling the midnight breeze nip at your skin. beyond the castle walls, away from the hustle and bustle of the nearby town. satoru holds your hand and smiles, tousled tufts of white hair swaying with the wind, leading you to a place you know well. a place where the air tastes like freedom.

it’s the river you used to play by as children.

gleaming a solemn silver under the evanescent moon, framed by bushes of lilacs, blooming indigo and violet and pure white. butterflies flutter about, almost glittering, blue wings settling down on the leaves. the scent of nectar hangs heavy in the air. on top of the hill just above you, you think you can spot tiny little glowing dots; green and yellow, buzzing around. dancing merrily, now that there aren’t any troublemaker children left to trap them.

satoru lets go of your hand, to roll up his sleeves. the hems of his pants. then he’s taking a step forward, dangerously close to the edge of the river, and you can tell what he’s thinking.

“ah — wait —“ you stumble forward, to grab hold of his arm. a worried crease forms between your brows. “that's dangerous, satoru. you could slip and fall.”

he turns to face you, a teasing mirth in his eyes. smirking lightly. “oh? is that so?” he hums, a slight tilt of his head. then he’s stepping closer, so close you feel his warm breath on your skin, but you will yourself not to step back. “wanna know what i think?”

he leans forward, just a little further, warm air brushing against the shell of your ear. flushing beneath it. his voice comes out low, a sleepy lilt, dangerously raspy. hand ghosting over your waist.

”i think you’re too scared to get in.”

you blink.

”… really?” you deadpan, stepping back a tad. satoru looks pleased with himself. awfully amused.

“really,” he purrs. “you were always like that. could barely dip your toes in without shivering.” he reaches out to pinch your cheek, a coo on the tip of his tongue. ”scaredy-cat.”

you raise your brow. unimpressed.

satoru steps back. inching closer to the river, until a quiet splash tells you that he’s standing in the water. lapping up his bare legs, not enough to even reach his knees — it felt a lot scarier when you were smaller. he’s still holding your hand, very loosely, fingertips ghosting your own.

“c’mon,” he coaxes. soft, encouraging, a playful glimmer in his eyes. teeth catching the light of the moon. “or is it too much for my brave knight to handle?”

satoru laughs, when you furrow your brows, attempting to hide the flush of your cheeks. a warmth spreads through your chest at the term of endearment, and you bite your lip. melting a little.

his knight. his favourite knight.

“.. fine,” you tangle your fingers in his own. sighing deeply, taking a tentative step forward. “just be careful, okay? i don't want to deal with your whining if you hit your head.”

“ah, but you’d kiss it better, no? if i asked?” he flashes you a honeyed grin, eyes rich with amusement. you hope the darkness of the night is enough to hide the red of your ears.

a grumble buzzes in your throat, locked behind your pursed lips. something in your jaw goes tight.

the man in front of you softens. parting his glossy lips. he says your name; slowly, thoughtfully, as if savouring every syllable. dragging them out, speaking with a lilt that tells you he’s being sincere.

“— loosen up. it’s just you and me.”

so you do.

and it’s odd. how easy it is to get lost in him, the watercolour of his eyes, the brightness of his grin. how pliantly you let him whisk you away. before you know it, you’re playing in the water — because satoru splashed you, laughing at the shock on your face and the shiver of your spine, and you had no choice but to retaliate.

the sound of his laughter fills the air, sweet and bubbly. deep and giddy. strands of hair stick to his wet skin, droplets running down his neck, but his grin never falters. bright and toothy, boyish. he looks younger than you ever remember him being. like there’s no weight on his shoulders, none at all, only soaked fabric weighing him down. a flimsy, see-through blouse.

you think it’s ridiculous. two grown adults, splashing each other like children. but his melodic giggles are contagious, and before you know it, you’re laughing too — and satoru looks at you like you hung all the stars in the sky. through dewy eyelashes, with cerulean eyes that melt into the pale blue of the moon and the silver of the river. filled with wonder.

a particularly ruthless splash knocks him off balance, and he has the instinct to reach for your arm; stumbling, slipping, dragging you down with him. you land on his chest, cheek against his neck, his pulse against your skin. erratic, joyous. fluttering happily.

his chest is heaving. lifting you up and down, a little, rhythmic and comforting.

a sudden yelp slips past your lips, as you get snapped back into reality, into the realization that you basically just pushed your own prince into a river and used his unfairly soft chest as a cushion. a mumbled string of apologies escapes you, as you attempt to get up, scrambling to find footing.

but satoru wraps his arms around you. tucking you under his chin, keeping you flush against his chest. nice and still.

and then he sighs. a blissful little breath, fatigue seeping out of him. into the air.

“stay like this, for a bit,” he rasps. ”it’s okay.”

his heartbeat resounds in your ear. warm and rapid, like claps of thunder, coaxing you into closing your eyes. satoru has always felt so very safe. the water of the river is cold, seeping through the fabric of your clothing and sticking to your skin, but…

(he’s warm.)

silence. and then, a whisper; frail, slipping past his lips, gently slicing the silence in half. softer than you've ever heard him speak.

“i missed this.”

…

nuzzling into his neck, you breathe him in. he smells like sandalwood and dried roses, buzzing with warmth, heavy arms around your waist. solid. when did he get so big? you used to be taller.

then again — that was a long time ago, wasn’t it?

“… me too.”

“missed you,” he continues, his jaw on top of your head. it’s a sincere confession; childlike in its innocence. “missed hearing you laugh like that. feels like it’s been so long.”

you stay silent. unsure of what to say. satoru continues, and you let his husky voice carry you away, the tremor of his chest running through your entire body. soothing like a lullaby.

”we haven't had much time together, lately. i’ve been worried,” he admits, and something about it strikes you as rather sheepish. a little ashamed. ”it bothers me that i can't be there to watch over you. make sure you're treated with respect, you know.”

a sleepy chuckle. muffled into his shoulder, almost a scoff — slightly exasperated. little droplets cling to his skin, sticking to your lips.

”relax, your majesty,” you tease. ”i promise the other knights aren’t bullying me.”

satoru pouts. you can hear it, when he speaks. ”i’m serious,” he huffs, squeezing you lightly. ”and it’s not them i’m worried about. suguru’s there.”

another scoff threatens to escape your throat. you want to tell him the only knight that should be suspected of bullying you is suguru himself, but before you can even think to part your lips satoru’s beaten you to it.

”they all treat you so carelessly.” there’s something cold to his voice, an irritation tugging at his teeth. oddly seething. ”like you exist to serve them. like you’re disposable.”

a moment passes, heavy with a silence so thick you don’t dare break it. when he speaks again, it’s an order. a demand.

”i want you to tell me if they go too far.”

silence. again. you can do nothing but gnaw at the flesh of your bottom lip.

(he isn’t wrong. but that’s simply what it means to be a knight — half-human, half-weapon. an unattainable ideal, stuffed inside a suit of armor.

when a weapon breaks under the force of a slash, the only choice is to throw it away. that much you know.)

”it’s fine. i’m not that fragile,” you weakly protest, but it’s not enough. satoru huffs.

”you’re a human being,” he reminds you. strangely stern, for once. chastising. ”you deserve to be treated with respect. knight or not. fragile or not.”

a deep inhale. he breathes in, and the rise of his chest carries you with it. his voice buzzes with something, a slumbering kind of fury. one you haven’t heard in years.

“if anyone gives you trouble — if anyone hurts you… if anyone makes you feel unsafe,” he almost spits the words, like they’re venomous, sacrilegious. ”tell me. i’ll destroy them.”

silence. and then, a chuckle.

that’s all you can manage; that one meek little breath. resisting the urge to cower, at the love that clings to every word he speaks. angered affection. a promise, dangerously genuine, like a growing wildfire.

”i can take care of myself, satoru,” you remind him. hoping it’ll soothe him. ”you know that.”

but his grip around you only tightens. gentle, even still. as if you’re made of glass, a firefly cupped in his palms. he lets the silence linger, for a moment.

and then;

“i’d do it, you know.”

a questioning hum. “do what?” you ask, though some part of you already knows.

satoru’s reply is instantaneous. an arrow hitting its target, cold and concise, decisive. frighteningly honest. almost a growl, flattened, a hint of teeth behind his soft lips. ”destroy them. anyone.”

”i’d tear this nation apart if you asked me to.”

…

(ah. that look in his eyes — one you remember well. strung together with blurred memories, the sting of a palm on your cheek, a castle maid you never saw again.)

you search for the words. biting back a gulp, hesitant. “… i wouldn’t.”

“i know.” satoru yawns, breathing you in, voice shifting back into the softness you’re so used to. your shoulders relax. “but i would. if that’s what you wanted.”

and it’s a little scary, the depths of his devotion. but you’re almost certain you’d do the same for him. maybe you're both a little sick in the head, a little too eager to serve your hearts on a silver platter.

“it bothers me, you know.” satoru breaks you out of your thoughts. gentle, a soft lull of his tongue. ”when you get hurt. when you fight for me.”

“i know,” you murmur. you’ve seen it in his eyes, a worry he’s not as good at hiding as he thinks. ”i want to, though.”

“and i want you to be safe.” a chuckle bubbles up in his throat, just a little bit rueful. “you never listen, do you? so stubborn, i swear. always worrying me.”

you bite down on your lip. he sounds… a little sad.

“… sorry.”

a moment’s pause. then he shakes his head; cradling you close. “it’s fine. i’m here. always,” his palm runs down the small of your back. ”in case anything happens.”

he inhales. ”and when i become king —” a beat. he swallows thickly. ”you’ll never have to worry again. no one will be able to touch you.”

”satoru,” you crack a small smile. amused. raising a single eyebrow. ”i’m not worried. i can protect myself.”

”i know. but i’m saying you don’t have to.”

and then he’s pulling back. just a little bit, just enough to see you. cheek smushed against his chest, comfortable and soft, more unguarded than he’s seen you these past few months. it’s enough to get his heart racing.

enough to have him reaching out, fingertips ghosting over your hand, tangling your fingers together. bringing it to his glossy lips. a chaste kiss, brimming with unspoken murmurs of love.

”— i’ll protect you forever,” he vows. ”remember?”

there’s devotion in his eyes. heavy, a vow he’ll never quite be able to voice in full. something that makes the blue of his eyes glow even brighter, cerulean, aquamarine, a blue so jarring it makes your heart beat faster than it should.

you blink. starstruck, caught in a daze, lost within that sea of blue. distracted by his warm breath on your cold skin, the soft whisper voiced against your knuckle. something shy blossoms in your chest, enough to have you averting your gaze.

“... you really don’t care about the dynamic here, do you?” is all you can reply. a meek scoff, a weak attempt at hiding how flustered you are. “i’m the knight. i’m your protector.”

“oh, i know.” a smile sticks to his lips, playful, the back of his hand caressing your cheek. a coo on his tongue. “my little hero. what would i ever do without you?”

a roll of your eyes. satoru chuckles. in the distance, you hear crickets chirping, a breeze rustling the lilac bushes all around you. he’s still cradling your cheek, smoothing over your wet skin, brushing a drop of water away with his thumb. clinging to your bottom eyelash.

“i don't get it, though.”

you blink. when you meet his eyes, satoru looks a little perplexed. muttering under his breath, absently rubbing circles over your cheekbone. you resist the urge to close your eyes again, biting back a blissful sigh.

”a prince shouldn’t care for his knight…” he repeats, like he’s heard the string of words a million times before. ”the idea of that. i don’t understand it. never have.”

the smile that blossoms on his lips is soft, indescribably so, as if he’s looking at the most precious thing in his life. rich and warm, like wine in your veins, nectar on your tongue, a chest pressed against your own. dripping with fondness.

satoru tilts his head, as if in confusion — but he’s smiling. “what’s so strange about wanting to protect the one dearest to my heart?”

…

his hand slips from your skin, a warmth leaving your cheek. only to search for your hand, again, cradling it in his larger palm. placing it right over his chest, against the soaked material of his blouse. ”feel that?”

you do. a rhythmic rise and fall, a soft flutter from the depths of his ribcage. as if it’s itching to break out, out of the cage that binds it, the hardened shell around it. a heart too big for his body.

”it’s you,” satoru whispers. ”all for you.”

a moment passes.

silently, you lean forward; tucking yourself into his neck. into that comforting warmth, wet skin beginning to dry, the steady thrum of his heart right by your ear. you listen. not saying a word, afraid of what might leave the confines of your strangled throat. it feels as if your heart has begun to crawl upwards, sweet honey blocking your airways, and all you can do it feel it pulse.

all while satoru gazes at you, fondly. placing a big palm on the back of your head.

fireflies dance in the distance. butterflies flutter about. strings of lilacs bloom under the glow of the moon. and satoru’s heartbeat never changes, never falls out of tune, a sound you would recognize even if the sky were to shatter, if the world were to end. the sound that saved you, the boy who dragged you out of hell. into his light.

satoru gojo is everything. he’s the beat of your heart, the silver of your sword, the reason you believe in goodness. he’s your prince, your favorite person, and you’ll protect him until your very last breath. until the world runs out of oxygen.

a boy so sweet you’d die for him.

(a boy so sweet he wouldn’t want you to.)

a shiver runs down his spine — sudden, a shudder of his bones, and a quiet little sniffle. you feel it, hear it, and don’t attempt to bite back the fond smile that slips into the curve of your lips.

”c’mon,” you beckon, almost a coo, placing your palms on his chest to hoist yourself up. ”let’s go home.”

but satoru shakes his head. and then he traps you again, strong arms around your waist, pressing you against him. you could escape — you’re almost certain you’re stronger — but you don’t quite have the heart to. ”it’s fine,” he huffs. almost a whine. ”stay.”

”you’ll get sick.”

”i never get sick.”

a deep exhale. tumbling from your lips, just a little bit humorous. mostly exasperated. ”that can change,” you mumble, fingertips dancing along his exposed skin. absentmindedly.

a smile. one you can’t see, but you hear it clear as day. he sounds content, like he’s got everything he needs right in front of him. ”some things never change,” he informs you. pleased. ”just look at us.”

and he’s right. so you don’t say anything else.

but your heartbeat quickens, only for a beat or two, and you’re almost certain he feels it. if he does, he opts not to tease you for once, and you’re grateful. and so the silence lingers. as if time has begun to freeze, into an eternal dusk, a string of silent seconds. broken only by low melodic chirping from the faraway fields, his soft breaths in your ear.

until satoru suddenly chuckles.

“hey,” he hums, shifting a little, the river swaying around you. pulling back to meet your gaze, eyes crinkled and voice raspy. “wanna know a secret?”

you raise your head. a dubious look on your face, one that has him breathing out an amused puff of air, like you’re getting ready to hear a bad joke. “... what is it?”

before the words have fully left your throat, he’s resting his forehead against yours — breath fanning over your lips. a pleasant shiver trails down your spine, at the close proximity, goosebumps spreading across your chilled skin. only exacerbated by the whisper that follows, so quiet you almost don’t know if you heard him correctly. childlike in its sincerity. a sunlaced smile woven in between the vowels.

“i think i was born to meet you.”

(a sentiment so sweet you barely even feel the warmth of his lips meeting yours.)

#u both catch a cold the next day <33 #anyway i am normal about the devotion of a loyal knight paired w the devotion of a man who’s only ever loved one single person in his life #shoutout to knight x royalty dynamics for inventing romance #i wanted to get a good balance on prince!gojo’s twisted side and soft side so i hope i did ok!! :’3 #hes a kind man at heart he rly is but i think being born at the peak of the class pyramid does smth to a person lmao #i didn't touch on it in the fic but he would have turned out a lotttt more twisted if he hadnt met reader as a child …#what if i was ur knight..;;; and u were my prince….;;;;; and we changed the trajectory of each other’s lives 😳😳 👉👈#mickey if u see this!!! tysm for letting me write abt this concept i had so much fun!!! this fic is for u <33 #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru fluff #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo x y/n #gojo x you #gojo fluff #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x gender neutral reader #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen

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the-californicationist · 7 months

Text

he changes your mind

John Price has been trying his best to convince you to let him give you a baby. After learning about his willingness to make sacrifices for you and your family, you decide to grant his wish.

MDNI/18+

TW: breeding, pregnancy, explicit sex

https://archiveofourown.org/works/51167794

Be sure to stop by my archive for more COD fics and to view my completed Kinktober collection, "Gauntlet".

John Price was smiling again. His cheeks were crushed up underneath his pale blue eyes, full of wonder and searing joy. The creases at the edges of his lashes cut and folded like the beginnings of an origami crane along his temple, and even though they did the same folds every single time, your heart skipped a beat when you saw them. The beard that lay flat and smooth around his mouth stretched with his smile, broad and keen. Sincere. Innocent and pure. And his laugh sent a knife right through your belly, melting down inside of you like coffee too hot, letting you feel your shapes and holes and secrets all the way down until you couldn’t breathe until he laughed again. Desperate for it. You wanted to rip it from him and keep it inside of you instead so you could tap into that bliss like an addict. You wanted a button to push to force it out of him so you could hear the sound in your darkest days, using him to turn on the light.

To make matters worse, he was holding a baby.

He was making you want one. In fact, he was making you want him to put one inside of you. His baby. One of your very own. One with blue eyes that crinkled at the edges like shining cellophane.

You resisted the pull like a yearling in a harness. You wanted to buck against it and kick it in the teeth. You didn’t want a child. John was always gone - mission after mission - and you weren’t willing to raise a whole person by yourself. You could do it, but you wouldn’t. That wasn’t fair. A child needs their guardian, and when your guardian was the guardian of the world…how could you come first?

So, you boxed it up and put it away in you with the rest of your ghosts. You haunted yourself with it sometimes. When you scrolled through your online purchases of milk and bread, sometimes it would suggest baby formula to add to your cart, as if, subtly suggesting like a mother-in-law, you were missing something important. But, you kept busy. You worked hard, you traveled, you spent time with friends. You loved John dearly, and you craved him more and more every day. You were happy, as happy as anyone should have the right to be. Why should you be entitled to open a box you had no business opening?

But, there it was, down from the attic of your mind again and cracked open in the foyer of your frontal cortex, waiting for you to pluck from it a warm, writhing little bundle that needed you to hold it and kiss it and tell it how to drive a manual transmission. A Janice or an Eric or a Persephone - someone new for the world to put through its horrors. Someone to catch a cold, to have their heart broken, to lose their job. Someone new to put you and John in matching coffins and lower you down into matching holes where you’d be covered and buried in the same place from whence they’d come. Entropy.

You watched as John crooked his elbow just so, supportive and careful, his massive form suddenly as agile as an arching ballerina, holding the bottle and the towel and the someone new as gently as a leaf holds the dew in the mornings in the spring.

You were wet. Your heart and your womb were fully committed to the bit. Some ancient bacteria that divided for the first time back when you were just primordial soup had optimized you for just this moment. It was lying in wait for John Price to crane his neck down to leave little chirping kisses on the softest pink cheek and then to smile when it garnered its reaction. That instinctual drive revved inside of you when he wiped away a stray drop of milk from a grinning toothless mouth. A mouth that would learn how to give kisses right back one day and beg you for them.

The way your hands clenched around your arms was going to leave a bruise.

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

“Such a cute lad, aye?” John commented, driving you down the dark road to your home.

“Gaz sure has his hands full,” you nodded.

“He’ll make it work. It always works itself out, right?” He was suggestive, and you weren’t about to have that.

“If it did, we wouldn’t need the orphanages.”

He was silent. The battle you had just won meant little to the war that raged on in the silence between you.

“I asked Laswell for the hiatus.”

“What?”

“You said that you needed me here. No more away missions. No more black sites. And you said we’d discuss it.”

“I said we might discuss - ”

“No, you said you needed those to happen, and I made them happen. She wrote up the paperwork. When I sign it, I’m here, for good. I’m a full on intel analyst. And it’s a pay raise,” he raised his volume, and his knuckles were white around the steering wheel.

“Okay,” you said.

“Okay? What does that mean?”

“It means okay. We can try, okay?”

“Don’t play with me, pumpkin. I can’t - ”

You put your hand on his thigh and squeezed it, giving him a soft smile.

“I said okay.”

He drove faster. He barely stopped at stop signs. He parked in the gravel instead of pulling under the carport. He opened your door and nearly pulled you out.

With his hand at the small of your back, he walked you to the front door, keys jangling loudly in his hand, the tip of the key scraping at the edges of the lock like a dog at the door, clamoring to get in. The door cracked. You were inside before you knew it. The keys fell to the floor and the door slammed shut behind you. John scooped you up and kicked in the panel to your bedroom. He fell on top of you, kissing you roughly, like he had mere minutes to spare. Your blood was rushing, pounding in your ears, and you could feel how heavy his breaths were as his chest pushed and pulled inside of himself.

“John. Jo- Hey, John. Wait - ”

John stopped, his hands stuffed under your dress, fingers looped in your panties, frozen in place like you had paused time itself. He didn’t look up at you. His head stayed down, and he waited for you to do something about it.

You grabbed his cheeks and forced him to meet your eyes,

“What’s wrong?” You asked in a whisper.

“Please, sweetheart,” John’s eyes held within them a fragile prayer, “Let me give you a baby. I want to see you hold her inside, right here,” he kissed your belly as he raised up your dress, “I want to see you in her face when she smiles and laughs.”

You smiled at him, petting his hair, enjoying his kisses,

“How do you know it’ll be a girl?”

He scoffed, kissing you further down, peeling the panties away as he had first intended,

“Just let me dream, alright? You said you would try.”

His hot mouth covered your clit and suckled against it with a renewed hunger. You tried to respond,

“Mm, I will, John. We’ll try.”

“We’re going to try right now.”

His fingers spread you apart and he began to fuck you deeply on his hand, licking you apart at the seams, letting your binds and ties melt like sugar on his tongue, freeing you from the confines of the world around you, ripping you from reality and dragging you with him into his primal wonderland. You could feel his fingers stretching up, deeper than he usually did, feeling around for the soft roundness of the entrance to your womb. He found it and circled around it, as if mapping it for himself, visualizing it and teasing himself with all of its possibilities. It made you squirm, and he sucked harder, cowing you into submission with an orgasm, which you gasped out in shock. You’d been struggling to hold it together since Nova’s baby shower, and you were desperate for relief. That relief hit you like a truck, and you came hard enough to see stars in the dim light of your bedroom.

As soon as John felt you clench around his hand, he fucked you harder, adding a finger and curling them into you, stretching you to fit his thickness. He had his length out and ready at your entrance faster than you thought was physically possible, spitting down onto himself and positioning himself inside your folds, ready to commit.

Then, for all of his anxious hurry, he stopped, as if he was missing something. He looked at you, concerned and needy, still fully clothed and unable to think straight. He looked lost. You held his hips in your hands and coaxed him forward,

“It’s okay, John. C’mon, let’s try.”

You thought he might break down and cry from the relief that washed over him. It was like you’d pulled a burning arrow from his heart. He sank into you like a stone in a lake, quick and sure, wet and eager.

“Oh, fuuuuuck!” John shouted. It was loud enough that you wondered briefly about your neighbors.

He fell on top of you, crawling over you with his hulking arms, prowling up to kiss your neck like a horny teenager, full of the same level of vigor. His thrusts were deep - deeper than usual - as if he was searching out that smoothness of your anatomy, looking for his target. You canted your hips downward to help him find it. When he did, you both groaned for each other.

"That's it, my sweet girl," he rubbed your clit in gentle circles, sending you back into orbit, "I'm so fuckin' ready to see my baby in you. Fuck! I can't wait."

The way his cock throbbed with each of his thrusts was sending you into a sort of trance. Your pussy felt stuffed, like it was struggling around his fat cock, bending and pulling at its walls to allow him to fit. His kisses were formless and weak, but his hips were merciless in their pounding. The two divergent sensations forced a rift in your mind, and your pleasure stretched to meet his fierce and gentle need. You felt the wave-like tingle of your recent orgasm tumbling in the back of your mind, threatening to rise again to crash upon your shore, growing with each pull of his rocking rhythm.

"Feel so good," he confessed in your ear, "Letting me give this to you, do this for you. Like heaven, love."

You encouraged the motion of his body with your hands, touching the snapping, ferocious muscles of his spread back, digging your nails into his furry skin when he angled himself just so, casting spell after spell to hypnotize you into pliant submission. Then, he quickened, panting, pleading, whispering his pleas over and over to you or to God, you couldn’t tell. He was making you feel like one and the same. His voice cracked,

"Bloody hell, I can't hold it back. Goddamnit. I'm - ahhh!"

When he filled you, and he damn well filled you, he held himself tightly pressed to your womb’s gate like he would be washed away at sea, gripping your body like a lifeline. He reached beside you for his pillow and shoved it under your hips, groaning and panting as he came down from his high, one-track minded. John kept his cock in you like a seal, holding you there much longer than usual. As you regained your senses and your ability to form words, you looked up at him and asked,

“John, what are you doing?”

“Shh, just wait. I want to make sure it’s there. Has to be deep enough for you, love.”

He kissed you again, using his long tongue to lick all the way into your mouth, still desperate and devout. You didn’t have the heart to tell him that he was weeks away from your ovulation window. Maybe you would just keep that to yourself.

#captain john price #captain price #cod mw2 #john price #captain price x you #captain price x reader #cod mwii

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cybersunnie · 30 days

Text

So Divine ✶ Steve Harrington

18+ / MDNI — literally just smut w/ some fluff, f!reader, petnames (sweetheart, baby) got inspired by @/season4steve's comments (wc: 1k)

Steve was a gentle lover.

Compliments, spontaneous gifts, late-night calls because he wanted to hear your voice before bed. He was always soft and sweet with you, all boyish charm and smiles.

With his parents out of town again, you and Steve had the house all to yourselves. It started innocently. A movie night at his place, cuddling on the couch, the light touch on your hip growing more greedy as the night went on. You tried to ignore it, eyes trained on the screen, but you were still all too aware of his glances and smirks that meant no good.

Your efforts were pointless.

The cheesy horror flick Steve had mindlessly picked out at work turned into background noise when he leaned in and kissed you slow, testing the waters. Your lips melted between his, warmth blossoming in your chest, your skin tingling. Whispers of I want you filled your ears, and you were suddenly putty in his hands—a mindless thing made of flesh and bones.

One thing led to another, and the both of you stumbled up the stairs and to his bedroom, giggling into the other’s mouth.

Your curves and edges, and his scars and birthmarks.

Steve had you pinned beneath him, his sheets wrinkled and a mess, clothes discarded and forgotten. You gasped so prettily for him, your face crumbling with ecstasy every time his hips snapped forward to meet yours, the slow drag of his cock making your head spin.

Even as he took you, Steve was nothing but gentle. Every kiss and touch ghosted over your skin like he was afraid to hurt you.

As if you were a delicate flower, each limb a petal he wanted to preserve, to dote on.

“You’re so pretty,” he rasped out, his nose nudging yours, urging you to look at him.

You keened, cheeks burning, eyes hazy with pleasure. How Steve looked at you was overwhelming—like you were the only good thing in the world.

"Yeah? You like being my pretty girl?"

You nodded and held him tighter, not wanting this to end. Your nails dug into his back, the crescent indents adding to his constellation of moles and freckles.

With Steve, all you saw were stars.

His gaze softened, a crinkle between his brows. "I know you do," he murmured, ducking his head down and kissing your jaw. Steve felt you shiver, your cunt squeezing his cock, snug and warm. He fought the urge to bite your shoulder as he buried himself deeper inside of you. "Fuck, sweetheart. You're killing me."

You wondered if Steve knew how much control he had over you. If he knew that his voice made everything around you feel light. If he knew that, in your mind, he embodied the night sky.

That he was timeless. Divine. A mysterious beauty.

He deserved to know.

But your voice was gone, the words stuck in your throat. The knot in your stomach grew tighter. The inevitable inched closer. You could only utter a meek whimper of his name with your fingers digging into his flesh.

Steve pulled his face from your neck and looked at you, stilling himself. “What, baby?”

He sounded so concerned, so sincere—it just made you want him more.

You whined and pressed the heels of your feet against his ass, begging him to move, to keep fucking you. Thankfully, Steve took the hint, pulling out a few inches before pushing back in, his heart swelling with pride when you whimpered.

Steve knew you were close. He could fucking feel it.

"Keep squeezing me like that—holy shit," Steve groaned, almost whining, as your cunt pulsated around his cock. "You're close, huh? You gonna come for me?"

Overwhelmed, you shut your eyes. It was too much. Steve's body flushed with yours, your ears buzzing, your heart pounding so hard it rattled your ribcage—it was all too much.

And Steve noticed. He always noticed.

Soft and soothing, he whispered your name and grasped your chin, your skin warming under his fingertips.

"Look at me."

Reluctantly, you opened your eyes. Steve smiled the same smile that swept you off your feet the first time you met him. He leaned his forehead against yours, his usual sweet brown eyes hardened with lust, with the desire to please you.

"There we go," Steve murmured, kissing your lips. He let go of your chin and moved his hand, his large palm enveloping the side of your face. You leaned into his touch, your brows drawing tightly together as Steve kept fucking you nice and slow. "You still with me, yeah?"

You nodded, mind-numbing.

"Yeah," he cooed, his mouth hovering over yours, breaths mingling. A pitiful whine escaped you, and he swallowed it with another kiss. "You're okay. You're doing so good."

It was all tangled heat and longing. Your hands trailed into his hair, soft and roots drenched with sweat. Mouths hung open, moans and gasps, your hearts becoming one.

Steve grunted, head dipping down into the crook of your neck, his hips rocking into yours. "C'mon, baby, give it to me."

You were at his mercy, unprotected, bare of armor.

The knot snapped.

Pleasure erupted in the pit of your belly and wrecked through you. You cried out his name in gasps and moans, your legs locking around his waist, fingers tugging at his hair. Steve whimpered as if he was wounded, his thrusts faltering, tongue swirling over your pulse points, and teeth nipping at your skin.

Wrapped up in the other and your sweaty limbs entangled, the intensity died down, heavy breaths filling the air. Neither of you moved—a silent agreement to stay connected a little longer.

"I love you," Steve whispered, leaving a trail of kisses along your jaw until he reached your mouth. He stared at you with adore-filled eyes, his cheeks flushed and hair disheveled from your own doing. "I love you so much."

Through your haze, you grinned, fingers sowing through his hair, "I love you more."

Steve snorted, shaking his head. "Impossible."

author's note: yay i finally finished something!!!!! it had been such a long time since i wrote smut so i'm sorry if this wasn't up to par LMAO but i love me some soft and sappy sex

anyways i hope you enjoyed this!!! tysm for reading! <3

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fic #stranger things fic #✶ — sunnie writes st!#✶ — steve harrington

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fraugwinska · 23 days

Note

Hello Springflower~

*slams envelope on the table and stare you into your soul whispering*

Alastor x reader where reader is asking him to show off as a fake "couple" because of one sinner who just won't stop annoying reader. Al agreed to help his dear friend and it started of innocent and cute with hand holding, kiss on the cheek- when SUDDENLY he kiss reader (in front of the sinner ofc) INTENSE and when he just stops for a second to kiss her neck she's like: "Al...? He's gone."

And he is like: "how disapointing"~

And just GOES ON

*leaves a heart cupcake next to the envelope and runs away*

For you - anything, sweet summer child. This just flowed out of me, and I was kicking my own feet as I wrote it. So... Here you go ;> I sincerely hope you enjoy it as much as I do.

❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️

Fake it 'till you Make it

The door slammed into it's frame with a bang so loud the glasses in it rattled. You panted, heart pounding hard in your chest as you tried to calm your erratic breathing. With shaking fingers you gripped the dark, wooden frame, so tight your nails scratched the furnishing off. You peered out of the yellow and red stained glasses, trying to identify the distorted shapes from the outside. Did he follow you? Was he still out there?

„What's...“

You felt a hand on your shoulder and reacted without thinking. You turned around with a shocked scream and whipped your arm out for a forceful slap. The sound reverberated around in the empty room as a slight stinging sensation ran through your palm. It snapped you back to reality and made you pause.

You blinked as your gaze went from your own, trembling hand, which now burned in an angry, red hue to a taupe face, the shadow of your handprint next to a wide, yellow smile. Your breath seemed to freeze as your eyes went up and finally met a pair of wide, burgundy ones.

"...the matter, dear?" Alastor finished, blinking before his face shifted slightly.

You stood speechless and frozen for a hot second, trying to recollect your thoughts before a tidal wave of emotion washed over your head. Embarrassment, followed by shock and, suddenly, by the sensation that started to build in your chest, the threat to bubble over in tears.

„Oh satan, Alastor, I-I'm so sorry. I, shit, I got you bad, I'm so sorry, th-there was.. and I was.."

You choked down another sob, words and feelings clogging up in your mouth. You rubbed at your stinging eyes, blinking away what you were trying desperately not to show. You thought it would have worked at least until Alastor's slender hands came up to wrap around your wrist and pull them away gently.

"Are you a singer, dear?" he chimed, his face unmoved, but his eyes softening a little. "Because that really was quite the hit! Ha ha!"

When you didn't join in his laugh, he immediately snapped out of it.

"But it seems my little joke was out of place, once again. What has you so rattled, little one?"

And this time, he actually made space and dropped the joke-y act, looking a bit worried. Which only added more pressure to the well in your chest. You squeezed your eyes shut to hold back any tears that tried to fight their way through, making yourself feel ridiculous.

"It's... there's this guy."

You swallowed sour spit down, licking your lips quickly before opening your mouth again, voice less shaky than you were feeling. "I saw him two weeks ago when I went grocery shopping with Niffty. He... he asked us for directions, I didn't know where the place he wanted to go was, and that was that. But ever since..."

Alastor's frown deepened. "Ever since then..?" he prompted carefully.

"...he kind of... pops up whenever I leave the hotel... he just shows up out of nowhere and asks me things. Follows me, doesn't listen when I tell him to leave me alone, doesn't know boundaries.." you balled your fists again, brows twitching down at the thought. "And today.. he tried to grab me, and I panicked, and I kicked him and he looked like..."

You looked back to the glasses.

"...it felt as if he was about to do something."

Alastor stared into you with these piercing eyes. It wasn't creepy, you didn't feel scrutinized or looked down on, and this wasn't the first time. Still, you felt that strange sense of unease in his intense gaze, like a cold hand was wrapped around your spine, running shivers down your back. It wasn't uncomfortable, per se, just... different. It had been months since you started your new job in the Hazbin Hotel as a bellhop, helping Charlie and Vaggie out in general. You weren't one to believe in redemption, but the work was easy, the residents nice and life, despite being dead, was good. It wasn't exactly peaceful, since living together with the radio demon sometimes had its challenges, but Alastor proved time after time that even if he could be quite eccentric, he was a good man deep down, funny and smart and interesting. Someone you could consider a friend.

That, however, didn't mean that he didn't spook you from time to time. He straightened his shoulders, brushed out imaginary dust from the sleeves of his suit, and when he spoke, there was an unmoving threat in his voice that he almost always hid behind his grins.

"He attempted to harm you?"

You furrowed your brows and stepped closer, leaving a little bit of space between you.

"I don't know... it felt like that. I didn't give it enough time to find out, I just ran back here."

"Smart girl.", he just commented, leaning over you to also watch the street through bulky glasses. You sighed and glanced out the windows. The sky had dimmed, red tinting the streets as it always did down here in the evenings. A few stray sinners stumbled along, either searching for a victim for the night or going home from their own sins. Still no trace of the demon. You could still feel the hot air of his breath on your neck when he bent forward. You grimaced at the thought of the stench of his sweat on the sleeves of your jacket.

"God... how am I going to go anywhere with him around?", you muttered to yourself, stepping back further and leaning against the table, burying your face into your hands. Alastor perked up at that. He tapped his cane against the floor.

"Oh, well I can't in good conscience allow my dear employee to fear the streets of the pentagram because of a silly pest."

You didn't catch his meaning. At least, not immediately. You shot a glance his way, giving him a skeptical look, furrowing a brow in confusion. "What do you-?"

He waved his cane, cutting you off, and put an arm around your shoulders. "I shall accompany you, then. When you need to go out, let me know and we'll show ourselves together. That sinner will get the gist then, I'm sure."

Your eyes widen. "Alastor, you're a genius!" you say with excitement as the thought slowly took root in your head, "If this creep thinks we're a couple, he might stay away."

"A what now?", Alastor asks, his smile faltering ever so slightly. However, his question was lost in your sudden enthusiasm, your excited rush of thoughts now loud and clear in your voice. "Then we should play the role in every aspect. We have to give off couple vibes, maybe show some PDA, nothing overboard, I know you don't like that kind of stuff, but holding hands might be believable enough. Oh, you're the best, Alastor."

"Yes, yes... so I've been told...", he replied with the usual giddy tone, although his voice sounded a little thick with white static.

You didn't pay much attention to it though, feeling a weight drop from your shoulders at the prospect of keeping the nuisance at bay. The whole idea might seem a bit strange to the others, but if it helped, why not?

***

"Well then, darling, ready to give the performance of your lifetime?", Alastor called the moment you exited the elevator. He was practically hopping over, grinning at you with a mixture of smugness, amusement and... something else. His smile grew, showcasing his pointed, sharp teeth with a flash. He was looking as dapper as always, dress coat neat and perfectly in place, cane ready at his hands - the radio demon as he breathed and lived.

"I hope so..." you muttered distractedly while straightening the hem of your uniform and peeking around the lobby. It was early morning and you had a not-so-short list of errands to run for the hotel. Alastor had been nonchalant about the trip when you asked him to accompany you last night, and you had half-assumed he had some matters of his own to tend to, or just flat-out backing out. But he just waved his hands and told you he'd be there at 8 a.m. sharp, which he was. In ALL the ways.

As it turned out the rumors of your plan must have traveled down the hotel grapevines fast and after a small bang and a hissed “Sssshhh!” from the left you saw the curious faces of Charlie, Niffty and Angel poking out the kitchen door, spying from afar and watching you and Alastor with bated breaths and loud-yet-shushed giggles.

"Don't tell me you're having a second thoughts on me accompanying you, dear.", Alastor stepped closer, wrapping his fingers around your hand in a tight grip, either oblivious to the audience or utterly non-fazed by them. You shook your head no, grimacing a little as your body tensed up in a bit of... concern. Not because of what you were about to do, no, it had everything and nothing to do with him and the... um. Hand. Touching.

"We can hear you, you know.", you hissed in the direction of the whispered squeals at his gesture, face scrunching up when a peal of giggling broke out and Angel audibly snorted through a quickly closed door. "Jus' be careful, tits, if 'ya go further than that with the oldtimer 'ya might need to buy some protection while 'ya out."

***

The plan was quite simple, but you guessed it had the possibility of either working like a charm or the idiot getting so mad, he could lose it and try something stupid.

Nevertheless, with Alastor on your side you didn't feel as paranoid and suffocated about leaving the grounds of the hotel. And his idea had worked out brilliantly so far. Not a single sign of your stalker, you had only met the usual faces on the main market road of the Pentagram City - maybe they stared a little more... okay, a LOT more, seeing you arm in arm with Al - and you ran into Angels' friend, Cherri Bomb, when you had to get some permits renewed. She had been friendly but extremely surprised and curious about since when you and Alastor, THE Radio demon were parading around 'like a pair of fuckin' newlyweds', in her words.

Alastor tried to brush her off with a monotone "What can I say? The good Lady just adores my presence.", squeezing your hand a little tighter, but his answer didn't satisfy her, so Cherri tried to pry into you, raising a brow and shooting you a smirk. "Al is a fun guy and interesting to talk to and spend time with. I like his company.", you shrugged, signing a paper, avoiding looking the cyclops into the eyes while you felt your ears redden.

It took her a good minute of blank stare, but when her grin slowly grew wider, you had no choice but to warn her with a hard stare and a small shake of your head. She rolled her one eye but she made a gesture of sealing the lips, still oogling the connection of your hands with impish delight.

At that moment you felt a squeeze on the hand, still in Alastor's grasp and his heavy stare from your right. His smile seemed fixed, a bit on the strained side, although his gaze remained cheerful.

"Everything wrapped up here, dearest?" he asked, tapping his foot impatiently.

"Almost done, just this document and the hotel can continue to serve alcohol. Husk would give me one hell of a shot if I'd forget that one."

You looked over to see if Alastor would pick up on the joke, but he was staring intently somewhere over your shoulder, so you just filed the form quickly and waved your friend goodbye. He quickened his steps, almost dragging you away as he paced down the street. You almost tripped over you own feet, trying to keep up with him.

"I think your persistent little pursuer has found us, darling. Don't look, just walk."

You sped up, also feeling a presence that had been on your heels a little longer than comfortable, a weighty silence behind your back. Still, as you rounded a corner, you just had to take a tiny peek and you saw, from the corner of your eyes, that the deranged looking coyote was gaining on you, still keeping his distance, his figure only a dark, moving smudge in the distance.

"Um... I guess now's a good time for a Plan B.", you said, halting in front of an antique shop.

Alastor's hand slid a bit lower, only his fingers curled around yours now, his warm touch tingling. "I'm thinking of it. Knowing your weak stomach, darling, bloodshed is out of the question?" he inquired, acting overly interested in a vintage gramophone showcased in the shop window and you snorted.

"You remember that?"

"Dear, it's hard to forget the amount of bile Niffty had to clean out of the dishwasher after you ran into my cooking...experiment."

"Not my proudest moment...", you laughed nervously, feeling cold sweat gather up on your back as you saw the rabid looking demon from the corner of your eye, creeping closer and closer. Alastor gave you a long, thoughtful look, before he spoke again, quietly and serious.

"Then let us both hope you'll stomach Plan B better."

Before you could think much, Alastor turned towards you, untangling his fingers from yours. His now freed hand cupped your cheek, and before you could say anything, he bowed down, tilting his head a bit to the side and gently pressed his ever-smiling lips against yours.

It was not your first kiss in your afterlife, but it might have very well been, seeing as your first response was an electric jolt up your spine. And this reaction wasn't even the weirdest part if the actual kissing part was just some peck. This wasn't a peck. A kiss with lips unmoving wasn't a kiss, it was more of a mouth-touching. This was something way more.

As surprising as the kiss was the tenderness with which he brought his lips to yours. It was gentle and yet so sensual that it sent small currents all over your skin, causing your eyes to close, goosebumps to form along your arms and a nervous flutter to erupt in the pit of your stomach. And maybe, maybe it lasted for just a fraction of the eternity it felt like, but if someone would have asked you later, you would swear he stole more than just a taste with the kiss. The slight push and pull between your mouths left the edges of your skin numb, the press of his smooth and heated mouth stirring up a peculiar feeling inside you that kept growing and rising and..

What was the reason for this again?

Oh yeah, your stalker.

Stalker.

You opened your eyes, seeing Alastor's burning red eyes fixated on something behind you, his expression intense with the hint of arrogance, a possessive smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. Something about that, the feel, the look in his eyes, made the back of your neck prickle. You blushed a little bit more but caught onto the reason the moment you realized what he was doing, trying to break the kiss to see where the coyote was.

You could only turn your head far enough to see the quickly shrinking silhouette of the demon vanishing in the distance, before Alastor brought his other hand to your waist, pulling you closer together, his tongue slipping between your lips, coaxing your lips to open again. Your own tongue responded and, together they mingled and twined with one another, sending the nerve-ending of your lips into a pleasant tingling sensation.

"A-Alas...tor...", you tried to get the words out as he nipped your lower lip, your eyes falling into those bright, heavy lidded ones of his, eyes which you couldn't stop looking into.

"He.. he's gone."

"Mh. Pity...", Alastor breathed with a soft hum, his chest rumbling at his words. His response had a mixture of sarcasm and amusement in it, but before you could properly ponder on them, your entire mind short-circuited when you realized he made no move to pull away.

Quite the opposite - with his hand sliding to your neck he pulled you onto his mouth again, deepening the kiss as his tongue slipped past your lips once more, completely shutting your mind down as a quiet, heartbreaking moan escaped your throat.

The fact that you two were in public, still standing in front of some store, all on display for anyone that might come down the road, didn't register in the haze that was slowly, so pleasantly slowly, forming. So lost were you in that fog of heat that the surroundings suddenly got distorted, leaving the alley, the store, the city completely. Your head spun at the sensations, a tremble raked across your nerves as your knees grew weak at the sound of his playful voice, echoing in the void you found yourself in.

"Let's draw it out a little more, darling, hm? Just to make sure."

#hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #alastor #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel fanfiction #fraugwinskawrites #angel dust #charlie morningstar #hazbin hotel niffty #for the frauchen #quick fic

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st4rfckerz · 7 months

Text

car troubles | james kelly x reader

word count: 2.6k

warnings: MDNI 18+, unprotected sex, breeding, praise, age gap, pet names (baby, sweetheart, pretty girl etc), very brief dry humping, a lottt of banter, mention of masturbation, cockwarming (?), afab reader

summary: your neighbor james kelly fixes your car for you while you're home alone.

a/n: i lowkey don't like this fic 😭 but it's probably not as bad as i think it is, BUT hopefully you guys enjoy it more than me :)

it was a blessing and a curse for owning an old car. it was a curse since issues flared up so frequently, but it was also a blessing because it prompted your neighbor, james kelly, to fix it for free.

james was hunched over your car's hood, with a number of tools arranged next to him.

"i doubt this'll take long at all. you just have a dead battery, and maybe a few other mishaps but other than that your car is fine." james explains.

"sounds great. thanks again for fixing my car." you give him a friendly smile. james quickly returns the smile, followed by a small laugh.

"of course, you can always count on me for these kinds of things."

"noted." I fiddle with my fingers nervously before turning away.

"i'll just be inside so just come get me if you need anything."

"alright, will do"

he gives a small nod as he watches you disappear inside. his attention turns back to the vehicle.

ever since your family moved into your home when you were 15 years old, you'd always had a small crush on james. but after you entered college and spent so much time away from home, he had aimlessly plagued your thoughts.

you didn't mean for it to happen, but he just always managed to be the only person you'd think about when you're in bed by yourself. thinking about his tall frame, his long, slender fingers, and the way his arms would shine with sweat from fixing cars all day long always sent a flash of heat through your body.

some time passes and you hear a faint knocking at your back window, followed by the door creaking open just a tad.

"hey, she should be good to go now." he spoke to you as you sit at your kitchen island.

"that was quick, usually the shop takes like, 2 hours. i'm impressed." you chuckle. james gives you a smile and a shrug.

"no need to flatter me sweetheart, I've been doin' this forever."

a shortly lived tinge of arousal goes straight to your core after hearing the sudden petname. it always surprises you when he calls you something other than your name because he rarely ever does.

"if you want you could stay and rest for a little while." you had articulated the plan earlier that day of keeping him in your home while your parents were out, just to see where it would go.

"You wouldn't mind?" james' tired, weary expression lit up and he seemed more hopeful than he had in a while.

"I wouldn't be intruding on anything?" he nervously asked.

"not at all, it's just me here anyways. my dad's at work," you explain, flashing him an innocent smile.

"there's fresh lemonade in the fridge, and if you'd like you can use the shower, i know how hot it is outside."

james cleared his throat and looked over towards you.

"that'd be really nice, actually."

you didn't think it would be so easy to have such a smart man like james fall into your trap, but somehow it worked perfectly. he was in your house, and was about to use your shower. the only thing that was on your mind was simply how much of a genius you are.

"the bathroom's right upstairs, here i'll take you," he follows you upstairs and you lead him to the bathroom.

"there's the shower, soap, shampoo all that stuff." you explain as james stands awkwardly beside you.

"sounds good, thank you i really appreciate it." his voice sounds sincere and soft.

"its no problem really, take as long as you need, i'll just be in my room." you walk out the door before closing it behind you. soon, you hear the sounds of water running from the showerhead.

eventually, you hear the bathroom door open and a small cloud of steam escaping the doorway.

james spots you laying on your bed wearing tiny blue shorts, and a small white tee.

his mouth suddenly goes dry and millions of thoughts begin to swarm around in his mind.

how could you just lay there and look so perfect?

james has been a nervous wreck ever since he arrived at your house. he knew it was wrong to be so attracted to you because of the obvious age gap, but he just couldn't help himself.

he's seen you in so many ways, so many times; outside in the pool wearing nothing but a bikini, laying in the grass wearing your skimpy shorts and tank top casually trying to get a tan, he's even watched you change your clothes right in front of your bedroom window.

he always saved those mental images of you so he could fuck his fist later on.

james clears his throat and looks over at you, standing awkwardly at your doorway.

"oh hey." you smile. james glances over your room and notices your college flag plastered on your wall.

"college huh?" he points at the flag and begins walking towards your bed.

"yeah, I'm almost done actually." you reply sitting up and swinging your legs across the side of your bed.

"how much longer do you have?" he crosses his arms and leans against the wall.

"about 6 months? i'm so ready for it to be over," you sigh heavily.

"did you go to college?" you ask him.

"trade school." james nods

"i figured, you don't seem like you were the frat boy type." you joke.

james' face lights up in amusement as he laughs a little walking over to you. he decides to take a seat right next to you on your bed

"yeah... no. definitely not the frat boy type. never saw the appeal in them."

"me neither they can be obnoxious, can't stand them." you explain. an awkward silence stills before you both.

he looks at you, the corner of his mouth curling slightly in anticipation.

"you must have boyfriends back at college, don't you?" his slight change in tone and lift in confidence makes you a little nervous.

"oh no, i-i don't, college guys aren't really my...thing." you stutter. your gaze lingers on james, drinking his presence in.

his hair, still wet from the shower, glistened in the sunlight coming through the window. you could drool on the spot at the sight of his broad shoulders, muscles barely peeking out of from under his gray t-shirt.

"then what is your 'thing'." james shifts his body to face you more.

you shrug and shake your head.

"i don't know, i guess i just always went for older guys." you confess. you knew it was slightly obvious what you were suggesting but it was now or never.

a sly smirk appears on james' face before speaking again.

"really?"

"always have." you look down at your legs quickly. the way james was staring at made you feel like you were on fire.

"do you like anyone in particular?" james was itching at some kind of answer that could miraculously allude to himself.

"that's confidential." you try to avoid looking at him so he doesn't see the obvious blush spread across your cheeks.

"right, right." james had a small grin on his face as you revealed the answer.

he was almost giddy with joy. he knew what he wanted to hear, but he never expected you still had feelings for him.

"it's dumb, i know," a wave of embarrassment rushes through your body and you immediately regret admitting something so elementary.

"i'm sorry if it bothers you i don't-" james cuts you off

"it doesn't bother me."

"it doesn't?" james shakes his head and smiles slightly.

"no, does it bother you?"

"no." he begins leaning towards you slowly and your brain shuts down completely.

james was close enough to feel your breath as you spoke. his face was a few inches away from yours, and he was looking straight into your eyes.

there was a long pause for a moment. It was as if james thought you were gonna do something.

his voice was a little quiet as he spoke his next words.

"good."

james finally closes the gap between you and presses his lips softly against yours.

a tingle went up his spine as your lips came into contact with his. he had never anticipated this, but it felt different. it felt right.

his hand reached to touch your face and he pulled you in closer slowly, your bodies connecting more and more as he leaned into you.

the kiss deepens and a small whimper erupts in your throat.

james noticed the noise you made and smiles against your lips. his big hands grab your thighs and pulls you onto his lap.

he gently pulled you closer to his body again, his arm wrapped around your waist, and his other arm reached to caress your body as both of your lips touched.

james' lips connect to your neck, nipping at the skin along your jawline.

you moan slightly and subconsciously rut your hips against his.

he let out a groan as he gently broke the embrace to look at you.

"needy girl." he teases.

james grabs your hips and moves them harder against his center. he began kissing your neck as you rested in the position he held you in.

you feel his hand suddenly slip into your underwear.

"oh, sweetheart," james breathes out. he could feel how wet and needy you were for him

a pathetic whine escapes your lips as his finger draws antagonizingly slow circles around your clit.

"james please, i need you." the words that escaped your lips sent a jolt of electricity through his body.

he kept kissing your neck, his hand slither up your shirt, caressing and pinching at your nipples.

your words sent him over the edge and he let out a soft groan.

you needed so much more than his single finger. you mindlessly began to toy with the waistband of his pants, itching to just rip them off of him completely.

james was more than ready to let your hands do there work, as he lifted up his hips slightly.

"can i take these off?" james asks you softly, he begins pushing your shorts down your thighs.

you nod your head quickly and discard your shorts along with your shirt leaving you only in your underwear.

james' eyes shoot straight down to your chest.

"so perfect for me," he coos as he quickly latches his mouth onto one of your nipples, soon leaving little purple bruises on them. your eyes squeeze shut as you feel his tongue flicking against the bud.

the sound of a belt hitting the ground makes you jump slightly.

"i can't wait any longer." james mutters against your lips before pressing his mouth against yours.

his fast hands move your underwear to the side.

the feeling of his cock finally entering your dripping hole made your head fall onto his shoulder and a long breathy moan fall from your lips.

you can feel james' body shudders under you.

"oh, fuck," james waits a few seconds before finally thrusting upwards, moving your hips to meet his simultaneously.

the sound of yours and james' moans followed by the slight slapping of skin filled the air of your bedroom.

"you feel so good baby, so good for me."

if james kept speaking to you in that velvety tone you were sure that you were gonna cum a lot quicker than expected.

your mind was completely empty, not a single thought popped into your brain.

that was soon interrupted by the sound of your cellphone.

"it's my dad." you tell james urgently but he continues to litter your neck with small kisses and bites.

"answer it."

you stare at him blankly, the annoying ringtone still erupting from your phone.

your fingers hesitate for a moment before accepting the call and pressing your phone up to your ear.

"hey dad." you try to stiffle a moan as james begins thrusting up into you again.

it was so difficult trying to contain your moans while still trying to have a conversation with your dad.

"yeah, james came over mm-" your hand flies to your mouth.

you could feel james smirk against your neck as he continues to thrust into you at a faster pace.

"no-sorry, it was a cough."

he was relentless with his hunger for you, and didn't want to keep it at bay.

"be quiet baby, we don't need daddy hearing how good i'm making you feel hm?"

his voice was suddenly filled with a deep and lustful tone, but you loved it.

james heard the talking from your phone but it didn't distract him, it only sent a tinge of excitement in his heart.

he let his hands to roam all over your body, causing goosebumps to spread all over your body.

"he did a great job, the car...the car should be ok now."

your dad just kept talking. completely oblivious to what was happening on the other side of the phone.

james grins widely and let out a quiet moan, feeling your pussy squeeze around him.

his lips left your neck and he let his head lean back on the headboard. he didn't even stop his advances as he heard your dad talking. he just enjoyed seeing you try your hardest to stay quiet as he abused your cunt.

your dad finally says his goodbyes after asking a million questions regarding james' visit and you have never felt so relieved.

"that was a close one." james chuckled.

you let out an exasperated laugh, still not able to fully function. especially now that his fingers begin rubbing furiously at your clit, causing you to moan louder and buck your hips harder against his.

"j-james..." your body was shaking uncontrollably. that familiar not began to form in your stomach and fiery heat began to spread through your legs.

"you gonna cum for me pretty girl?" he taunts.

your face contorts in pleasure as you try to muster up any words that come to mind.

"m'so close-"

"i know baby i know, me too." the grip he has on your thighs grows firmer and his nails begin to dig harshly into your skin.

"come on sweetheart, give it to me." james thrusts harder into you, swiftly hitting your sweet spot everytime.

your walls clench around his cock as you cum, earning a loud, throaty groan from james. his warm seed coats your insides, leaving you feeling full and absolutely satisfied.

"there you go," james coaxes you through your orgasm.

james felt your sweat covered body collapse onto his and he kissed your forehead softly.

he kept his arms wrapped around your back, holding you close to him.

"are you okay?" was the first thing that came out of his mouth after a moment.

"mhm, m'ok" you flash james a tired smile.

he slowly opened his eyes as well and kissed your forehead. he let out another sigh as his arms were still wrapped around you.

then he spoke again, his voice filled with curiosity.

"so...what did your dad want to talk about?" he asked softly, still laying back on the bed with you on top of him.

"he was just asking if you had already come over and everything," you let out a snort.

"i definitely came." you look up at james to see a cocky smile across his face.

"stop," you giggle and slap his arm playfully.

"he also mentioned that he would be staying an extra hour at work."

james' demeanor shifted once you told him the good news of your dad staying longer at work.

"good," james leaned forward and kissed you again, grabbing your hand and pulled you down to the bed.

his hands slowly traveled down to your thighs, and he caressed it slightly before pulling your legs apart and situating himself in between them.

"because i'm not done with you yet."

#nai writes ୨୧ #james kelly #james kelly x reader #hayden christensen #hayden christensen x reader #anakin skywalker

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strnsvt · 2 months

Text

yoon jeonghan — pineapple's kiss and dad's wisdom.

dad!jeonghan ; mom!reader

jeonghan was greeted by the sound of laughter echoing through the house. a smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he kicked off his shoes, the familiar warmth of home enveloping him.

making his way into the living room, he found you and ara sitting on the couch, your faces lit up with joy.

"what's all this laughter about?" jeonghan asked, kissing you and ara on the cheek before settling onto the carpeted floor, leaning his back against the couch, loosening his tie.

"go on, tell your papa what happened at school today," you prompted.

ara's laughter bubbled over as she leaned forward, eager to share her story with her father. "pineapple kissed me on the cheek!"

jeonghan's eyebrows shot up in surprise, "pineapple kissed you on the cheek?" he repeated.

you nodded, adding "a boy in her class, she calls him pineapple cause he looks like one,"

jeonghan's eyebrows furrowed in bemusement, "first of all, how does one look like a pineapple?" he stammered, trying to wrap his head around the peculiar nickname.

"and secondly," he continued, his tone shifting to a more serious one, "you can't let a boy just kiss you like that, ara. you need to set boundaries,"

you nodded in agreement, placing a comforting hand on ara's shoulder. "your papa's right, ara. it's important to respect yourself and make sure others respect you too."

"i know, ma, papa. but i like him. and i liked when he kissed me. just like how you kiss ma,"

jeonghan sighs. his heart softening at ara's innocent nonetheless. "ara, sweetheart," he began gently, "i'm married to your ma, which is why we can do things like kiss each other. but for you, you're still very young,"

"that's right, honey. when you're older, you'll understand more about relationships and what's appropriate," you say, offering a small smile.

jeonghan paused, his thoughts swirling as he considered how to proceed. he recalled ara's innocent confusion about the concept of boyfriends, and he didn't want to inadvertently introduce more confusion into her young mind so he avoides using that word.

"ara," he began, "see, papa will be very upset if you allow a boy to kiss you," he says, his tone soft yet very firm.

ara glanced at you and then jeonghan as she nodded solemnly with a smile, "ok ma, papa. i'll listen," she said, her voice filled with sincerity.

jeonghan's heart swelled with pride as he reached out to gently ruffle ara's hair. "that's my girl," he said softly, a warm smile gracing his lips.

as bedtime approached, jeonghan lifted ara onto his back, ready to give her a piggyback ride to her room. ara giggled with delight, wrapping her arms around her father's neck as they made their way down the hallway.

once ara was tucked into bed and drifting off to sleep, jeonghan returned to your room, he noticed you chuckling to yourself, a mischievous glint in your eye.

"what?" jeonghan asked, his brow raised in confusion as he undos the buttons on his wrist.

"it was just a kiss, jeonghan," you replied playfully, your eyes sparkling with mischief as you watched him.

jeonghan chuckled softly, shaking his head in amusement. "i know, i know," he said, his tone light and affectionate. "but you know how protective i can get when it comes to our little girl. she's five. she doesn't need a boyfriend,"

"boyfriend? do you think she knows even the meaning of it?"

"she doesn't. that's why i avoided using that word infront of her," jeonghan smiles, scoffing, "pineapple," he muttered, the corners of his lips curling up into a fond smile.

you chuckle too, "that was the nickname me and my friends had for you,"

"huh? when?"

"when i was crushing on you, of course,"

jeonghan's eyes widened in surprise at your revelation. "pineapple? really?" he asked, a mixture of amusement and curiosity evident in his tone.

you nodded, a soft smile playing on your lips. "yeah, it was just a silly nickname we came up with," you explained, your cheeks flushing slightly at the memory. "but it's funny how things come full circle, isn't it?"

jeonghan chuckled, shaking his head in fond disbelief. "i never would have guessed," he admitted, his gaze lingering on you with newfound warmth. "but i'm glad you stopped calling me that."

you grinned, reaching out to playfully poke his arm. "well, you'll always be my pineapple," you teased, a hint of affection in your voice.

#strnsvt's writing #seventeen x reader #seventeen fluff #seventeen imagines #svt imagines #svt x reader #jeonghan x reader #jeonghan x y/n #jeonghan x you #yoon jeonghan #jeonghan #seventeen x y/n #seventeen x you #seventeen

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pedgito · 2 years

Text

𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐮𝐩 ✧ ˚ · . 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

summary: eddie's got a late night bone to pick with you; only one minor sexual inconvenience in the way, but that doesn't stop you from picking up his call and eddie doesn't want to hang up either.

cw: 18+ (minors dni), virgin!reader, phone sex, mutual masturbation, really talkative reader & eddie (these two never shut up), lots of dirty talk, small innocence!kink, mentions to reader's body (only compliments, no descriptions), if i missed anything pls let me know.

word count: 3.4k — part two, part three

The deep coiling heat undulated through your entire body, fingers curling inside you at an angle that wasn’t perfect, but it would have to do. That dull ache digging at you, like an annoying itch you couldn’t scratch. It felt close, yet so far of that you couldn’t even reach it. You sighed harshly, eyes drifting close in hopes that maybe it would help—anything, just some peace and quiet, forcing your mind to focus on the feeling of your body and nothing else, finger dipping into your the slick wetness of your cunt, dragging up slowly toward your clit—yes, that helped. You breathed deep, circling the sensitive bundle of nerves, that familiar tinge of want and pleasure radiating throughout your entire body, building, and building—-

The bloodcurdling ring of your phone cuts through the air, nestled in the corner of your bedside table. You’ve never wanted to smash something into pieces so much in your entire life.

Who the fuck could be calling at this time of night?

You yank the phone from its resting place, cord wrapping around your wrist in the process, but you couldn’t be bothered to fix it. You lean over the bed slightly, settled onto your side, before answer with a very clipped:

“What?”

“Who pissed you off, princess?” Eddie fucking Munson.

It never failed.

“If you keep talking, it’s going to be you.” You retort, still mildly aware of the hand tucked between your legs, not touching anymore, but hovering, waiting for this painful phone call to end.

“Harsh.” Eddie replies, feigning a weak implication of hurt in his tone. “I just wanted to let you know that you grabbed my dice by mistake after the campaign tonight.”

Fuck. You squeezed your eyes closed, tapping the speaker of the phone against your head in frustration. You had been so quick to rush out of there today, you didn’t even think, blindly grabbing your shit and hightailing it home.

“And I hate to make a big deal about it, but those are my lucky dice.” He points out. You can’t help the eye roll that escapes you, Eddie could practically hear it through the phone.

“And this couldn’t wait until tomorrow?” You ask impatiently. The man was wasting precious time, time that you would be spending doing something much more enjoyable. “I’m busy.”

It comes out, a Freudian slip. You could’ve just assure him you’d bring them in the morning and the conversation would be null and void, but no; now Eddie was intrigued.

“Busy? It’s midnight—what the hell could you be busy with right now?” He asks, attempting to compile a list of reasons but coming up with a big fat goose egg.

“Sleeping, Eddie.” You deadpan.

“You don’t sound like it.” Eddie says honestly. “Wait, were you—“

“Eddie!” You yell, a desperate attempt to stop where this conversation was headed—but Eddie, ever the persistent.

“Ha!” He laughs, seemingly clapping his hands together over the phone, “I knew you weren’t so innocent—all that bullshit about never being kissed and—“

“Ed-die,” You stress, begging him to tone down the teasing. It wasn’t that you felt ashamed, everything you’d told him was true. You hadn’t explored much outside of yourself—you know your body best and that was all that mattered. Why did you even need the help?

“Sorry, sorry.” He apologizes sincerely, “I didn’t mean to interrupt, really. If I had known, I would’ve just waited until tomorrow.”

“There’s no way you could’ve, dipshit.” Eddie snorts at the nickname, savoring the bite in your tone. “Besides, it helps me sleep.”

“Shit, me too.” He laughs softly and you can’t help but laugh either, though it only lasts a few seconds before you’re mentally shoving your hand over your mouth, begging your brain to process shit before it comes out of your mouth. “It’s not that easy, is it? Trying to concentrate and everything.”

Your eyebrows pull together in confusion, wondering why he hadn’t just hung up the phone. But, he continues; you can’t help but listen.

“Not when I have meatheads like you bothering me,” You snark, the dull ache in your cunt still hadn’t settled, and you really hated yourself for your next move, but it was necessary.

Your finger rubs over your clit gently, slow enough that you can keep your composure, but allow just enough relief that it wasn’t bothering you as much.

“Not a meathead—That’s reserved for Jason and his band of assholes.” You could appreciate his mutual distaste, feeling bad for stacking him in with them.

“Sorry.” You meant it.

“It’s fine, princess.”

You’re so used to the term that it really shouldn’t bother you, it hardly ever does, but with your hands down your underwear, attempting to work yourself through a desperately needed orgasm, you couldn’t help but play it in your head, the sound of his voice, like a tape on repeat.

And this felt so wrong, but Eddie noticed your prolonged silence. He leans into it, nudging you further.

“Do you need help?” He asks innocently, his voice remaining it’s normal bravado, but you can feel the anticipation in the way he waits for your answer.

“With touching myself?” You ask boldly; what a night this was turning into. “I think I’m good on that.”

“No with, you know, getting there.” He says coyly and you can hear the should shrug through the phone, the way his head tilts to the side innocently. “I can help, if you want.”

“You wanna help me orgasm?” You ask, still gathering what little sanity you had left for the night. “Over the phone?”

“Sure,” He says easily. This didn’t feel real and maybe you were having some fucked up dream you’d wake up from any moment; another weird sex dream, albeit almost always involving your one particular friend, who just so happened to be on the other line offering up his services, selflessly, “but only if you’re comfortable with it.”

And why wouldn’t you be? Aside from the potential awkwardness of having to face Eddie at school after this, it didn’t seem like a terrible idea—and Eddie was never the type to shove a situation like this back in your face, he knew your boundaries. Plus, you’d kill him if he ever did.

“Okay,” You agree, voice hesitant. “Yeah, that’s fine.”

“Shit, okay.” He answers, half-expecting you to back out.

You doubled down, “I don’t have a lot of time, so make it quick.”

Quick. Eddie could do quick—except he’s never done this before and has no idea what to say or do, he was going in blind.

“Uh, well,” He laughs at the absurdity of the upcoming question, “what are you wearing?”

You can’t help but roll your eyes, glancing over the outfit you were wearing. “Does it matter?”

“Not really,” He answers truthfully, “if it helps, I’m only in my boxerw—you know those ones you like to make fun of, they’re got the bats all over them.”

You laugh at the memory, Eddie bent over in front of you during Hellfire a few months back, moving some of the boxes full of theatre costumes since the group was forced to share a room and the other kids refused to put their stuff away properly. “How cute.” You'd told him and Eddie’s face burned a deep shade of red. He didn’t say anything, only pulling his pants up higher.

It was an interesting visual, you couldn’t lie. “Uh, I’m in my underwear, too—and a, uh, shirt.”

“Which one?” He asks curiously.

“Um, Hellfire, that black one. I think it's yours, actually.” Somehow that felt like the most scandalous part about all of this, being coached through your orgasm by not only your resident dungeon master, but someone who you consider a friend, “It’s nothing crazy, sorry.”

“No, no,” Eddie interrupts quickly, “That’s fine—are you—are you touching yourself, right now?”

Eddie’s free hand is resting over his boxers, palming at his growing bulge, not as satisfying as he wants it to be.

“Yeah,” You nod without thinking, feeling ridiculous after the fact, “For a while now.”

That slow, tantalizing pace you had on your clit wasn’t helping. You clear your throat, pressing harder. “You can touch yourself, too—if you want, I mean. I won’t mind.” Your face is hot with embarrassment, but it didn’t feel fair; he should be able to enjoy it too.

Eddie can feel his dick twitch against his hand, the idea of you having already been touching yourself before he even suggested anything; not that he had planned any of this, it was completely spur of the moment, but he couldn’t help himself now. “I am,” He replies after a beat, “I’m just touching myself over my boxers—kinda sucks, though.”

“Oh,” Your voice lilts, feeling that small tinge in your gut at the sight of Eddie holding his dick in his hands—you’ve never seen it before, nothing to compare it to or imagine, but still; you were picturing it, “Well, maybe you should actually touch yourself, you know? It only seems fair.”

Eddie exhales slowly, fingers shoving under the waistband of his boxers, taking hold of himself—it’s the first time he’s touched himself all week and he was in over his head, this was a terrible idea.

“God,” He sighs, falling back against his pillow, phone tucked firmly between his shoulder and ear, tugging gently at his shaft, “do you—you have anything you think about?”

“Not really,” You lie, “I just kinda—do it.” You lie again.

Eddie laughs softly, the soft sounds of his creaking bed frame were faint, but you could still hear them. It was the only thing you could think about; Eddie spread out, hands down the front of his boxers, tugging at his dick like his life depended on it.

You circle your clit absently, finger sliding down to dip inside of you. You mewl softly, letting the sound pass through your lips.

“What about you, Eddie?” And it shocks you, realizing it’s the first time you’ve said his name since you’ve started this dangerous back and forth. It comes out broken, wrapped snugly in that blissful pleasure you were trying to reach and Eddie hears it—the curse under his breath a telltale sign that he was just as wound up as you.

“Got a lot, too much to describe—never as good as the real thing, you know,” Eddie says absently, his hand an insistent tug at his cock, swelling to full hardness in his hands. He wipes the pad of his thumb over the slit, the small bit of precum helping ease the slide down, “there’s so much you’re missing out on, princess.”

Your virginity was never a main topic of conversation and Eddie didn’t make it a big deal either, but he knows how inexperienced you are outside of your own body; he wants you to enjoy it, wants you to experience how good it can feel.

“Wanna tell me about it?” You ask innocently, the pitch of your voice picking up on a certain stroke of your finger, palm dragging against your clit.

“I can’t speak for women, but for men—it’s pretty fucking good,” He starts, occasional gasps peaking through his voice, “it’s warm and wet and really tight, sometimes when they squeeze down on us—uh, it’s good. So fucking good.” Eddie tries not to sound too crass or dirty, afraid it might scare you away.

You laugh softly, his unique way of describing things never fails to surprise you, “What’s your favorite? You like when—when girls go down on you?” It’s really just curiosity, your mind racing through a million different thoughts.

Eddie huffs out a small chuckle, stopping to—what you could only guess—spit on his hand, and that had you clenching around your own fingers. It felt primal, in a way. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s good. But I, uh, like going down on a girl more—I got off once to it.”

And it shouldn't turn you on as much as it did, but goddamn if you weren't interested in hearing all about that. All common sense out of the window, you ask, “Really?”

“Yeah,” Eddie says, his voice still unnaturally calm, “I was younger, but it was nice—she made all these noises, pulled my hair too hard—I didn’t think I’d like it as much as I did, but then she came while I still going down on her and it just happened.”

You sigh softly, “I’ve always wondered what it felt like,” You admit openly, “something other than my hand, it’s gotta be good, right?”

“You’ve really never done anything?” Eddie asks hesitantly—it didn’t feel judgmental, Eddie was curious; half leaning toward delirious from his sleep-deprived state.

“Never even kissed anyone, Eddie.” You say regretfully, hand stopping for a moment. “But, I’m not clueless—I’ve just never had any first hand experience.

There was a long pause, your breath catching in your throat. You can hear him on the other line, but it’s muffled. “Eddie?” You ask quietly, “Are you still there?”

“Yeah, yeah,” He sounds a little breathless, “I was getting ahead of myself, had to slow down a bit—“

“Oh.” It’s small, feeble in the way you answer him.

“You still touching yourself?”

You nod again, feeling ridiculous. “Yeah—I am. I can’t focus, though—that’s been my problem all night.”

A problem that Eddie had just the remedy for.

“Do you trust me?” He asks and your answer is instant, not a single worry in your mind.

“Yeah, of course.”

“Close your eyes,” You take a small breath, letting your eyelids fall shut, “Tell me what feels the best.”

You breathe, allowing the fear of embarrassment shed from your body, losing yourself in the conversation fully. “Uh, fingers help a little—but, this is hard to do with one hand, I usually have two, that way I can cover all my bases.”

Eddie snorts at that, a smile spread across his face. “Just squeeze the phone against your shoulder,” You quickly maneuver it, shoved properly up by your ear, allowing your other hand to reach down and touch your clit properly, fingers an inconsistent rhythm as they pump into you, still, you can’t stifle the needy moan that slips out.

“Okay,” You sound shaky, “That’s—that’s a lot better.”

You feel like it’s going to be too bold of a question and Eddie would run away immediately, but you’re too fucking curious not to ask, since he was literally jerking off on the other end—it seemed like a perfectly fair question to ask.

“Do you—What do girls usually say about—you?” It was the worst way to approach the question, but Eddie isn’t too bad at realizing the context.

“Are you asking what my dick looks like?”

He couldn’t believe this shit was happening.

“Yeah, maybe.” You answer sheepishly, “Like I said, nothing to compare.”

Eddie grins, eyes scanning over his own dick briefly.

“Uh, it’s about eight inches, give or take.” He offers, “You could definitely fit both of your hands around it, if you tried.”

There’s a beat of silence, Eddie feeling like he fucked up—it slipped out, it wasn’t a suggestion; not the he didn’t want your hands around his dick, he’d be lying if he said that out loud.

You give a small noise of acknowledgment, feeling the heat coil in your stomach—surely you weren’t thinking about Eddie’s dick. But, of course you were. “Maybe we’ll have to try that out.” You say boldly, hoping that it would elicit some type of reaction from him.

“Fuck,” It definitely worked, “Yeah—yeah, maybe we could—I could even—even, go down on you, if you wanted.” He's too worked up, barely able to form a coherent sentence.

“Yeah?” You breath, followed by a small moan from the drag of your slick covered finger over your sensitive clit, rubbing the small bundle of nerves impatiently. “Think I could make you come?”

“With those pretty little noises?” Eddie asks redundantly, “I’m a fucking goner.”

You laugh softly, choked out by the sound of your own desperate noises, the pace on your clit picking up, fingers moving on their own accord. You can’t even focus on the fingers inside of you anymore, moving a free hand toward your breasts, still slicked fingers catching against the soft bud of your nipple.

Eddie strokes himself faster, recklessly almost. He groans so loudly into the speaker that you almost lose it, phone slipping away from your ear.

“Fuck, are you okay?” Eddie asks, hazy from the grip he had at the base of his dick, desperate to keep from coming. His entire shtick was to help you, not himself; but he was failing miserably.

“Sorry, I almost dropped the phone.”

“Oh.” He’s being cheeky, you can hear it in his voice.

“Shut up,” You exhale, returning yourself to the task at hand; regardless of Eddie’s smugness. “Thought you were supposed to make me come, not tease me all night.”

“Help you,” He corrects, “Not make you—though, I mean—that’s not totally off the table.”

“Eddie.” You warn.

“Right—I guess it’s not hard for me,” Eddie starts again, voice thick with want and tension, “All I have to do is think about you with your hands between your legs and those tits—god, they’re probably perfect, I haven’t seen them, but I know. I know.”

It was like he’d dialed everything up to ten, not bothering to hold back any longer, the pleasure taking away any filter he had.

He was thinking about you, of course—it made sense, but it didn’t snuff the pulse that grew between your legs, only making it much, much worse. Whatever line was drawn was crossed the moment you agreed to this, all bets were off.

“Wish it was your hands instead,” You respond wantonly, the pad of your finger rubbing quick, small circles against your clit, “they’re so much bigger than mine.”

You gasp, gripping desperately at the sheets beneath you, no doubt having soaked through the cover already from how wet you were, it was unlike anything you’ve felt before—it was better.

“Forget my hands—can’t get the sight of you sinking down onto my dick out of my head,” He admits earnestly, groaning through the quick tugs on his shaft, his tip leaking with a copious amount of precum, bring his hand back down to squeeze at the base. Eddie has never edged himself like this before, it was almost painful. Almost.

“I don’t think it’ll fit, Eddie.” The moan he lets out is loud, guttural—the sound of skin against skin louder than ever through the speaker, he’s close. “Is that what you want? To be my first?”

“Fuckfuck—yeah, I do.”

You can’t even think anymore, saying the first thing that comes to mind.

“Want you to ruin me, Eddie.”

He’s past the point of trying to keep himself quiet, openly moaning through the receiver, “Fuck—say my name again, please.”

And you do; again and again, your cunt spasming underneath your hand, reaching the precipice of what you had been dying for all night, his name a plea as it cut off into a desperate moan.

“Shit—I’m so close—.” Eddie growls lowly, his high hitting him almost immediately after, coming all over his chest and his sheets in shirt spurts, tugging harshly at his dick.

He’s never come so hard in his life.

“You’ve gotten a fucking mouth on you.” He says breathlessly, on the way down from his orgasm. “Would’ve never guessed.”

You smile warmly, hand slipping out of your underwear to rest against your stomach.

“You tell anyone and you’re dead,” You chide playfully, the beautiful feeling of sleep creeping up on you, “but thank you, Eddie, seriously.”

“Always at your service, princess.”

You laugh through your nose, the realization of your actions finally settling in. It didn’t feel wrong, but it didn’t feel right, either—though, you couldn’t be bothered to care now; all bets were off.

“I’m holding you to that, Munson.”

Eddie shrugs on the other end, unbeknownst to you. He wiped at the mess he’d made with his shirt, tossing it to the floor lazily. “So, not a one time thing then?” He asks hopefully.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself.”

A pause, Eddie clears his throat.

"I still want my dice, by the way."

#eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x you #my writing #1kfic #5kfic

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milswrites · 2 months

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The Fox and the Hound

Eris Vanserra X Reader

Summary: Your relationship with Eris through the years, seen through the life of the hound he gifted you when you first began courting.

Warnings: A mix of fluff and angst. Mentions of sex. Mentions of violence/threats. Mentions of injury. Death of pet but a sweet ending.

The First meeting.

There was something sweet about your first meeting. Perhaps it was the shyness that radiated from the two of you, the soft blush which dusted across your cheeks and the way Eris clenched his sweaty palms into fists in an attempt to hide his anxiety.

The two you, whist grown adults, held the charm of two children with an innocent crush. You sat across from each other, curious eyes meeting curious eyes as your fathers discussed the terms of the betrothal. Anticipation sparking in each of your chests at the possibility that this arrangement may not be as terrible as you had first expected.

It took hours.

Hour after hour of dull, monotonous discussion. Each father trying their best to squeeze every ounce of benefit that they could from this deal. It was an arduous process. One that both you and Eris shared no interest in. Deaf to the conversation happening around you, eyes never leaving the others.

Your own wordless conversation flowing naturally, an automatic understanding settling between the two. Almost as if you were both speaking your own language, one known only by the pair of you. A level of synchronicity between you as you exchanged greetings and compliments through the glistening of your eager eyes and the soft smirks which formed upon your tender lips.

Eris needn't say a word to convey the message he was trying to send. It was an invitation. A plea for the two of you to escape the draining presence of your fathers. A subtle suggestion to leave the room so he could hear the sweet tones of your voice for the first time.

Whether or not your fathers noted the rushed manner of the way you stood, excusing yourselves from the rest of the meeting, they did not let on. The two alpha males still locked in a daring battle, both seeking more and more from the other. It made it all too easy for you and Eris to slip from the room unnoticed.

Giggling alongside each other as you fled from the scene. The Autumn Prince flashed you a charming smile as he held out an arm for you to take. Enabling him to lead you alongside him until you had exited the Forest House. The male leading you towards an outbuilding, the building from which a cacophony of barks and growls sounded from.

"This isn't where you tell me that I'm not actually a bride. That this whole agreement was just so you could have some poor innocent damsel to feed to your dogs?"

Eris smiled at your joke, at the way you had failed to hide the anxiety which laced your voice. He continued to lead you towards the kennels, bringing his free hand to comfortingly rest against yours which was wrapped around his bicep.

"They're hounds," he corrected, a cocky smirk finding its home on his handsome face, "And I wouldn't dare feed them someone as pretty as you. It would be such a waste of beauty."

It was impossible to hide the deep red blush which flourished on your cheeks, eyes nervously attempting to avoid the intensity of his admiring gaze.

Trying to quell the rising heat in your face, you battled your flushed embarrassment with another joke, "Isn't it how a boy wastes his time? Playing with dogs...hounds?"

The two of you slowed your approach as you rounded on the solid oak doors. The heavy metal lock rattling with the force of the dogs pounding against the other side of the doors.

"I can assure you, my future bride, that my hounds are bred for far greater things than simply playing," he notes your fearful gulp as you flinch at a particular violent bang to the door, "And I can also tell you that my hounds are the finest in all of Prythian. You needn't worry, they wont hurt you. Not whilst I'm here."

You weren't sure whether it was the sincerity of his words or the confidence that welled in his amber eyes but you believed him. Finding yourself relaxing as he dropped your arm in order to unlock the door, satisfied that Eris would not allow any harm to befall you.

He twisted the key in the lock, dropping the heavy padlock and chains to the floor as he cast his gaze back to you, seeking some form of approval to reassure him that you were fine with this, allowing you to know that he would never force you into a situation that you didn’t want to be in.

Heart feeling full due to his compassion and thoughtfulness, you willed yourself to nod confidently. Determined that if Eris were to be your future husband and caring for his hounds were his passion, you would learn to love them in the same way the male did.

With a firm pull of the handle the door opened, hound after hound pouring out from the open doors. Each giddy pup jumping up to excitedly greet their master before a few brave ones curiously made their way over to you. Big noses snuffling at your feet, neglecting to jump at you in the way they did their master, no doubt sensing the remaining traces of fear which you had failed to flush from your system.

Opting to take the leap yourself, noting how Eris's searching eyes were observing the situation, whether to make sure his hounds didn't try anything or he was simply curious as to how you would react, you sunk to your knees on the ground in order to stroke the hounds which circled you.

A joyous laugh escaping from your lips as they saw your action as an invitation to huddle around you, overwhelming you with gentle licks and playful nibbles.

If only your father could see you now - you thought. Your pristine dress filthened by the damp ground you were knelt on, hands and arms covered in the slimy sheen of their saliva as they eagerly laid affectionate licks wherever they could.

Pleased, Eris contentedly watched the scene from where he was stood. Admiring the outpouring of love his usually reserved hounds were showing you. His heart told him that this was a sign from the mother, your already flourishing bond with his pups was surely an indication that the two of you were meant to be.

Only when their excitement of meeting a new person decreased, and the hounds had begun to wander off, inquisitive noses buried in the ground as they followed the trails of scents which interested them, did Eris then approach you.

Holding out a strong hand so he could help you up from where you were collapsed on the ground, the pups having knocked you onto your bottom from their enthusiasm.

"I'd say that went well" he mused, his amber gaze raking your body as he took in the little tears and muddied stains from your time on the ground, "You may need another dress though. Not to worry, I'll make sure you have plenty of those as my wife."

Thrilled with the child-like excitement that being surrounded by his dogs had brought you, you exclaimed, "Oh Eris they're amazing. Can we come here every day?"

"Every hour if that is what you wished," he smiled. Eris nodded his head towards the open kennels, beginning to drag you towards the building, "Come on there's something I want to show you."

The two of you made your way into the empty kennels, your curious eyes taking in your surroundings as you wonder what it is exactly that Eris wanted to show you. The answer becoming clear as he pulled you to a stop at a large doghouse, bending down to peer inside. "Here" he whispered quietly, gesturing you to drop down to the same level.

You bent down next to him, squinting through the opening of the house, trying to make out the figures which wriggled in the darkness. Before your eyes could even focus, one of said figures bounded out from where it was hidden and flopped into your lap.

You cast your gaze downwards, eyes blowing wide with awe at the sight of the small puppy which was digging into your lap in an attempt to seek some warmth.

A cry broke from your lips, a sound of appreciation, lip pouting as you brushed a gentle finger along it's tiny head. Eyes beginning to water at the sheer cuteness of the creature before you.

"You like her?" Eris asked, his own hand coming to lovingly rub at the scruffy patch of fur on the pup's head.

"Like her? I love her! Eris she's so sweet!"

"Good" he grinned, "Because she's yours. Consider it a betrothal gift."

You couldn't contain the squeal of happiness which broke from your lips, surprised eyes flashing to the male who was sat looking at you and the pup with unbridled joy.

"For me?" you asked in disbelief, of all the gifts you had ever received this by far had to be the best one.

"Well only if you want her. And she'll need training and walks. I'm not sure if you'd want her for hunting but I'm sure she'd be happy to keep you company whenever I'm gone. And she'll need a name of course."

"Darling" you answer immediately, there was no doubt in your heart that that was her name. For that was what she was, her little face, her small paws, her reddish coat. Every inch of her was darling.

"Darling is perfect" Eris agrees, his hand which had been brushing the pups head coming to hold your hand sweetly. This would be the first of what would be many affectionate touches in your relationship to come.

The night time cuddles - And a very jealous Eris.

It wasn't unusual for Eris to sneak into your bedroom to see you. Whilst you were betrothed, the rules of courting did not permit the two of you to be left unchaperoned in a room. Your father had made this point clear to you after discovering you alone with the Autumn prince in the kennels after he had gifted you Darling.

But Eris wasn't one to follow the rules.

He was constantly finding excuses as to why he urgently had to see you in your room. You left a hairpin at the breakfast table. You had forgotten to give him a review of the latest book you had finished. It slipped his mind earlier, when the two of you were sharing a supervised walk in the gardens of the Forest House, just how beautiful Eris thought you were in the new dress he had bought you.

Yet this, Eris appearing at your door, when the sun had already set and the moon was far into its nightly journey, was unusual.

Being caught alone together during the day was one thing - but at night? You shuddered at the thought of the punishment your father would deliver.

"Eris, what are you doing?" You hissed in a low whisper as the male pulled the door to after him.

"I haven't seen you today," he reasoned, hand coming to rest against your cheek as he absorbed the natural beauty of your tired features, "I'm sorry I was caught in meetings most of the day but I just had to see you before I went to bed."

That inescapable blush which appeared whenever you were around the Autumn prince burned your cheeks, a pleased smile making its way onto your lips at the thought of the male being unable to make it one day without your presence.

A stubborn nudge to his leg and an angry yelp had Eris removing his hand so he could bend down and greet a disgruntled Darling, "Yes, yes. I haven't forgotten about you sweetheart. Been behaving well for your mother?"

"Well I was sure it was the end for her today when she bit your brother when he came in for breakfast."

"Damnit" Eris smirked, his evil eyes flashing to your amused ones, "Why do I always miss the good things?"

"Hmm," you hummed in thought, "he seemed fairly convinced that you had been training her to do so."

If possible, his smirk grew even wider, "I have no idea what you mean."

You rolled your eyes at your future husband, retreating to your bed as you yawned at the lateness of the hour at which he had arrived.

"You can't be tired yet!" He argued, words filled with exasperation as Darling ran after you to chase you to the bed where you had laid down, "I just got here!"

"It's not my fault it's so late!" you fought back, gesturing to the window where the moon was high in the sky, "You could...I mean you'd have to be gone by morning of course…But if you wanted to?"

Your eyes flicker to the empty spot on the bed next you you before flashing back to Eris's. Hope flooding your pupils.

"I mean, I can't deny my future wife can I? I've heard terrifying stories about men who said no to their wives."

He obediently crawled onto the other half of your bed as he spoke. Making his way up the mattress until he was level with you.

"Perhaps..." he started, his lips dangerously close to yours, "Perhaps I can finally allow myself to feel the soft touch of your lips," his eyes flicker down to your body, "or feel the soothing heat from your bare skin. Maybe if I’m lucky I could hear your desperate cries as I make you call my name, over and over again."

Your breath caught in your throat, eager eyes boring into Eris's amber ones which were burning with lust. Releasing a shaky breath you cast them to his red lips, eyes beginning to close as you lean in.

Until the forceful shove of Darling tore the two of you apart. The small hound wriggling her way in-between the two of you, tail wagging ferociously with her desire for attention.

You laugh sweetly, hand coming to rub her ears as she happily burrowed against your body. Eris on the other hand, allowed his brows to knit together in a deep frown, his once puckered lips downturned at the sight before him.

"Sorry Eris," you giggled at his disappointment, "You are in Darling's spot and she had been in my bed many more times than you have."

His brows furrowed deeper, lips moving into a pout, "But she's had you all day! It's not fair!"

"I'm sorry dear," you shrugged, allowing your pup to dictate exactly what happens in your room, "Darling has spoken. It's ok, she gives great cuddles, I'm sure you'll sleep soundly."

Your words did nothing to improve the Prince's mood. In fact, the reminder that your pup had spent more hours nestled against you in a warming embrace than he has only made him more miserable.

"Maybe next time" you grinned, loving eyes focused on the now sleeping form of Darling.

“Don’t worry. I’m sure you give better cuddles my Prince.”

The wedding.

You met in private. The two of you making your way to the old oak tree hidden in the security of the Autumn Court's forest. Lucien had joined you at Eris's request, the male trailing after you, a doting Darling close at his heels.

You had come to make your vows in your own terms. Neither you nor Eris wanting to share this moment with the thousands of uncaring guests Beron had invited to your wedding. Strangers who knew nothing about how deeply yours and Eris’s affection ran.

No, you wanted to exchange them in the privacy of each other's company, his brother joining as your witness. An eager Darling not wanting to miss out on the excitement.

So here you were, dressed in a simple white dress. Standing hand in hand with the male you had grown to love, covered by the shade of the oak tree.

"Well I can't say I've ever married someone before," Lucien stated as he scratched his red hair in thought, "I guess you just...say your vows?"

Eris rolled his eyes at his clueless brother, "You'd think when we asked you to do this you would have consulted a book brother or even a prince. Don’t you have plenty of them in the spring court?"

Knowing that the two males could spit retorts to each other for days on end, you made the easy decision of choosing to speak your vows first, "Alright. You guys can stop, I'll go first!"

You took a deep breath, gathering your thoughts, worried that words could never do justice to the way you felt about Eris.

"Eris, I think I have loved you from the moment I met you. It wasn't hard, you make it so easy to be loved. You are not only the kindest male I have ever met, but the most thoughtful. Your compassion and the love you hold for everyone, and every thing, in your court is inspiring. And I am the luckiest woman alive to be blessed with your presence and the honour that I can soon call myself your wife. I have loved you since I first laid eyes on you and I promise that I will continue to do so until we're nothing but the ash remaining from the inferno that is our love."

Tears sparkled in Eris's eyes, his grip on your hands increasing in an attempt to ground himself. Even Lucien bore a soft grin at the sight before him, at the happiness that his brother had found for himself in you.

"And I, Little fox," Eris started, his voice cracking as he spoke, "I never thought I'd be lucky enough to deserve a life like this. I've always assumed I was just like my father and was resigned to a life just as miserable as his. But being here, being with you, I know I can allow myself to feel as though I've earned this. Earnt your love. And I will spend the rest of my days proving to you just how devoted I am, just how much I was made for you as you were made for me. You are my other half. My beginning and my end. And I love you."

You choked back a gleeful sob, your own eyes glistening with tears as the two of you looked to Lucien expenctantly.

"What?...Oh! Oh right. You, uh, you many kiss the bride."

And Eris did just that. Connecting his lips with yours. His shuddering breath meeting your lips as he sealed his against yours. Moving them against each other in a passionate dance, arms flying around each other's body in search of some support. The two of you getting lost in the moment, losing yourselves in the heat of your embrace, acting as though it was just the two of you, locked in this scene for an eternity.

Until there was a rude awakening in the form of Darling leaping up at you. Her muddy paws leaving streaks of dirt down your pure white fabric of your dress. Reluctantly pulling away from Eris, you bobbed down to give her a loving stroke, pleased that she got to share in the moment with you. She was a part of your family after all.

Lucien, red-faced and blushing, broke the silence, "I guess I'm looking after her tonight then?"

"Yes!" You and Eris eagerly replied in glee.

The intruder

It was late. The world was sleeping along with the sun. Eris was away, visiting another court. Which led you to where you were now, sound asleep in your joint chambers, Darling cuddled up against your body. The two of you breathing deeply as you dreamed.

Yet not everyone was asleep. Night was the time for criminals and wrongdoers to crawl out from the depths. Sinister people who chose to act under the cover of darkness, skillfully hiding between the shadows which blanketed the court.

And tonight they had come for you. Of course choosing the one night that Eris wasn't here to protect you.

It was the rattle of your door handle which stirred Darling from her slumber. The hound curiously jumping off the bed and padding to the door, hoping that her other master had returned from his travels.

Only she didn't scent the usual crackling fire or roasting chestnuts. Instead a putrid smell of soured milk and fermented fish wafted to her nose.

Her fur stood on end. Baring her teeth as she released a low growl, the sound being enough to draw you from your dreams. Sitting up in bed and noticing the precarious way Darling was stood at your door.

"Darls?" You questioned, your worlds slurred through the thick coat of sleep which was still wrapped around you, "Come back to bed girl."

She didn't move. Muscles still tense as she stared at the door which you had only just noticed was banging softly. If Darling wasn't so on edge you would have passed it off as wind. Though the dogs anxious demeanour and the lack of a howling gale blowing against your windows had your body filling with dread.

The doors burst open, clattering against the walls from the force at which they did so. A dark figure entered, crazed eyes locked on your shaking form as they advanced.

You froze, unsure of what to do. Cursing yourself for never taking up Eris’s offer on learning how to fight, for being so sure that the need for that skill would never arise and that if it did Eris would be there to protect you.

But Eris wasn’t here. And as you stared into the cold, unforgiving eyes of your intruder fear flooded your system. Thoughts swimming around your mind at the possibility that these could be your last moments. That you’d never see your husband again. That he’d come home from his trip and find your mangled body sprawled across the bed.

Your panic increasing, you shook yourself awake, needing to be prepared to put up a fight. Jumping out of the sheets as quickly as possible so you could stand and draw your hands into shaky fists.

Ready to act.

But you needn’t do so. For as the man crossed the threshold Darling was already on him.

Her sharp teeth finding their home in the flesh of his arm. Rabid growls leaving her mouth as she tugged and thrashed at the limb trapped between her teeth. Blood poured from the man’s arm, screams of pain escaping from his throat. Legs pathetically flailing as he tried to kick her from him.

It didn’t take long at all for Darling to wrestle him to the ground. The whites of her eyes bulging in a way you had never seen, your dog never before having the need to show this amount of aggression to anyone.

She continued to ravage the man, tearing at his arm as he continued his attempts to bat her away.

Anger coursed through your body at the sight of the kicks and punches he was delivering to your dog. Your baby. And so you make to run forwards, to aid Darling with what little strength you had.

Yet once more you were saved by another.

Eris burst into the room, sword in hand. You were too stunned by his sudden appearance to try and make sense of how he was here, how he could have possibly known what was happening.

Upon his arrival, Eris was swift to finish the job. A still feral Darling coming to stand in front of you protectively. Blocking your view of the scene before you, hiding the figure of Eris stabbing his sword through the man’s gut.

When the deed was done, Eris made to come towards you, wanting nothing more than to rush to your side in order to make sure you were ok.

But Darling wouldn’t allow it.

Baring her blood-stained teeth at her master. Snarling as he tried to lay a calming hand on her. Refusing to let your husband come anywhere near you.

“It’s ok Darling” you soothed, stroking along her back, bringing her back to reality, allowing the cloud of fear to clear from her eyes as she saw who was before her. Inhaling his familiar sent. It was her family.

“It’s over Darling” you whispered into her ear as you pulled her into a hug, “my brave, brave girl. You did so well.”

The baby

“Oh Eris, let her in. She’s scratching at the door!”

It had been a long labour. The efforts of which had drained a lot of energy from you, leaving you exhausted, pale and sweaty.

But it was worth it. Every minute of pain. You would do it again in a heartbeat if it meant getting to hold the little bundle of joy which was currently held against your chest.

A little baby girl.

A beautiful daughter who already had a small little head of red hair to match her father’s. Her little fingers clinging onto your body as you cradled her.

Your husband, eyes full of love sat at the edge of the bed, admiring the beauty of the moment. His tiny, healthy baby. His magnificent, strong wife.

Yet to you, one thing was missing from the picture.

Your poor little hound had been kicked out of the room by Eris at the first signs of your labour. Your husband claiming you didn’t need any distractions, that Darling would get in the way.

But you could see it. The underlying glint of anxiety in his eyes, the already fierce desire had had to protect his newborn daughter. Worried of what could happen if he let an excitable Darling into the room, what havoc she would cause.

He didn’t mean to think that way, you knew Eris loved Darling dearly. But you also knew that this was a big change for Eris.

That he wanted to be a good father. That he wanted to be different from his own.

With the distraction your labour brought, where Darling was or what she was doing didn’t cross your mind. But now all you could hear was her incessant scratching and whining at your door and you wanted nothing more than for your pup to meet the new member of your family.

“Please Eris” you begged, a tired hand stretching across the bed in an attempt to reach your husband’s, “Let her in.”

The male sighed, rising from where he was sat. He placed a gentle kiss against your forehead before making his way to the door. Only opening it slightly before he caught Darling as she ran inside, sweeping her into his strong arms.

It was a sight to behold, your giant, wriggling hound in Eris’s sturdy grip. Darling had been much too big for you to pick up for years now, and Eris definitely looked as though he was struggling to do so now as well.

He perched back onto the end of the bed, arms tight around Darling, his stern voice berating her, “No Darling! Calm down, gently now. Gently.”

You smiled, a warming wide smile. Your heartstrings twinging at the sight. Everybody you loved was here, sat together on your bed.

Darling managed to wriggle her way out of Eris’s grip, the male cursing as she did so. Her spritely form running up the bed until she came to rest against you. Slowly laying her head against your stomach as her wide eyes took in the child against your breast.

“This is Eva, Darling” you smiled, introducing the hound to your baby.

She didn’t jump. Didn’t push her sniffling nose as close to the babe as she could. Instead Darling just laid in silent contentment, her curious eyes never leaving your daughter for a minute. She needn’t have the ability to speak for you to know what your pup was thinking, to know that in this very moment her heart had grown two times as big.

To know that she had just met her new best friend.

The terrible two’s

“Oh cauldron, Eva get back here!” You chased after your daughter, her little feet carrying her through the halls at a pace you didn’t expect a two year-old would have.

“Eva!”

Whilst running may appear to be her speciality listening was not.

As much as you loved your daughter, there were some days where you just felt utterly exhausted. Unable to keep up with her energetic soul and curious demeanour.

Spending more of your time chasing after her than anything else.

Yet thankfully, even on days like these where Eris was stuck in meeting after meeting, you always had help.

Your little Darling was never far behind Eva. The hound glued to her side wherever you went. You thought Eris was an overprotective brute, but Darling coddled her as if she was her own.

Eva never went anywhere without Darling, and Darling never went anywhere without Eva.

The hound ran down the corridor after the giggling toddler. Her head nudging Eva back up whenever she stumbled or fell, allowing the girl to grip uncomfortably tight onto her fur for support. Nose lightly pushing your daughter to the side whenever she was about to run into someone in the hallway.

Darling may not have been raised to hunt like all of Eris’s other hounds, but clearly her expertise lay in raising children. Her heightened instincts which would have allowed her to easily track prey, were what enabled her to keep up with the toddler so well.

Eris liked to joke that if Eva spent any more time around the dog she’d begin to act like one. That her increasingly mischievous personality was unbecoming of an Autumn Court Princess. You liked to joke that Eva acted just as wild as her father did.

You were panting by the time you caught up to the pair, a slight sheen of sweat across your forehead as you scooped your squealing daughter into your arms. Darling jumping up and barking along, wanting to join in on the fun.

“Come on girlies” you beamed, continuing to walk towards your destination, “let’s go find Daddy.”

Eva happily babbled away at the sound of his name, bouncing in your arms as you made your way towards Eris’s office, hoping to catch him having a break in-between meetings.

You tap at his door, pressing your ear against the wood in order to better hear. “Come in” his tired voice rings out.

Opening the door, Darling bounds into the room, leaping into your husband’s lap, a smile forcing its way onto his face at the action, hands absentmindedly scratching behind the hound’s ears.

He must have noticed the slightly disheveled state you’re in, taking in your appearance before letting out a teasing snort, “tough day Little Fox? You can go and sit in my next meeting and I’ll look after our girls if you prefer.”

“I think I’ve got the better end of the stick here my love.”

The man huffed in disappointment, though his mood lightened slightly when you passed a giggling Eva into his arms, resting her butt on Darling’s body as he bounced her up and down as he cooed.

“You can take her into the meeting with you if you wish. I’m sure your father wouldn’t mind his Granddaughter running around, maybe if she tires him out as much as she has me it’ll be a short meeting.”

“She’s really run you ragged huh?” Eris asks, he attempts to keep his words light and hearty but you noticed the flicker of concern which flashed in his eyes.

“Not just her” you reasoned, “And not just the fact that I had to chase after Darling in the woods this morning because she saw a squirrel. It’s actually…ah-”

Your sentence was interrupted by a knock at the door. Eris’s brother stepping inside his office without needing to hear any acknowledgement of his knock. His full eyes looked to you before boredly travelling to his brother, “Your late Eris. Father won’t wait much longer.”

Your husband nodded at his brother, dismissing him as he stood from his chair with a sigh, Darling jumping off of his lap. “What was it you had to say Little Fox?” He asked whilst passing Eva to you.

“Nothing, nothing don’t worry,” you brushed him off, knowing that what you had to tell your husband required more time, “I’ll tell you tonight.”

It was a torturously long wait. His meetings having run on for more than half the day. Night had fallen, and Eva had curled up to sleep alongside Darling, the two snoring softly. Yet your anxiety didn’t allow you to sleep, not until Eris came back.

Once he did arrive, he bore dark circles under his eyes and his posture was slouched, you almost thought about waiting another day before telling him the news.

But then you saw the way his eyes lit up when he cast his gaze upon his daughter and your dog. The never ending love which poured from his eyes made it too difficult to resist. You didn’t even say hello to the man before you blurted out, “I’m pregnant Eris!”

He turned to you, tiredness slipping from his eyes as a combination of shock and joy flooded into them, “yeah?”

“Yes!” You cried, unable to stop the tears which leaked from your eyes, throwing yourself into your husband’s tender embrace, “we’re having another child.”

He cheered in glee, picking up your body in glee and spinning you around, yelps leaving both your lips as you slapped his chest and cursed him, “Shhhh, you’re going to wake her! It took long enough to get her to sleep!”

The two of you looked over to where your sleeping daughter was laid, smile adorning both your faces as you saw a cheerful Darling looking right back at you. Her gentle head resting on Eva’s stomach as her tail batted happily back and forth.

Almost as if she knew the news which you had shared between you. As if she knew what was coming next. Who was coming next.

The goodbye

An unfortunate circumstance. That’s what the doctor called it. It was her time to go.

Eris had called him to your chambers immediately, the second Darling had slumped in exhaustion and refused to wake back up.

She was old. That was true. But there was something about her that had you convinced she would live forever. She had always been here, for as long as you had been in Autumn, and now you would have to try and live on without her.

You were in a state. Not even the comfort of your two beautiful children could quell the grief which had found its home inside of you.

Their presence, while appreciated, failed to fill the Darling shaped hole which had grown in your heart in her absence.

You weren’t sure how long it had been since that day on the floor of your room, cradling your best friend as she drifted into her final sleep. Each day seeming to all blur into one. Every one more dull than the last. Your source of enjoyment had gone.

Yet Eris seemed to have had enough. He was familiar with the grief that came along after the loss of a pet. He has experienced it more times than he could count, having lived for centuries and loosing just as many pups for years he had been alive.

Your husband had decided you can’t go on like this, that something had to be said. You already knew it was coming right from the moment he sat down onto the bed, comforting hand moving to hold yours.

“I know it’s hard,” he spoke slowly and concisely, as if he had rehearsed exactly what needed to be said, “I know it feels like you’ll never be happy again. But you will. The reminders you look to now which cause you pain will soon bring you joy. Will bring you thanks, will make you grateful for the time you got to have with her.”

Your tears which had been spilling for the past few days stopped at the words your husband was saying. Your ears twitching as you took in every word he was saying. He saw your peaked attention as a sign to continue.

“You’ll see her everywhere. In the forests she used to run in, the halls, your bed, Eva, Lucerys, me. You’ll see her everywhere but you’ll be able to look and smile because you were fortunate enough to have shared those memories with her. You’ll never forget her. No one’s asking you to. But it’s time to move on.”

“It’s hard” you cried, the pain in your chest felt as though it would never leave. That it had built its home there and that’s where it would stay.

“I know,” he consoled, soft hand coming to brush against your cheek, “no one said it’s not hard. But you just have to be strong. For me. For the kids. For Darling.”

He was right of course. He annoyingly always seemed to be. But you understood what he was telling you, what he was asking of you.

That you did need to move on. But moving on didn’t mean that you had to forget. And you never would.

The new beginning

“Mum! Mum come look! Come on!” Lucerys called for you. Now taller and faster than you it took him very little effort to drag you through the halls as he ran. You chased after him, wondering what could be so urgent.

He led you outside, his hand still entwined with yours as he slowed his pace after noticing how you were struggling to keep up.

It was only now he had slowed that you were able to properly look at your son, at his long red hair, at the beaming smile across his face, at the spark of joy in his eyes as he led you to the kennels.

It had taken you a long time to come here after losing Darling. But once you did you had immediately found yourself at home, surrounded by a dozen other hounds who you loved just as dearly. Your time being spent with your son who held the same affinity with animals as his father, the two of you opting to spend most of your free time tending after your husband’s hounds together.

“She’s had the pups mum!” He exclaimed as he led you inside, hand pulling yours until the two of you reached the back of the kennel where Eva was doting over the mother hound. A litter of newborn puppies suckling at her.

You didn’t fight the tear which fell from your eye, nor the twinge of pain caused from the plucking of one of your heartstrings. You allowed yourself to feel the pain as you looked to their reddish coats and their small paws. You allowed yourself to be reminded of Darling. To grieve for what you had lost all those years ago.

Lucerys helped you to sit, excitedly bringing you with him to the floor as you admired the small puppies. Your son passing you one of the small hounds, which had started to cry as it was moved from its mother. Yet it fell silent once it had reached the warmth of your hands.

That old familiar glow settled in your chest. The rekindling of a love you once felt so strongly. A blissful smile crossing your face as you took in its dear little face.

“That one’s for you mum” Eva smiled, her bright eyes locking with your watery ones, “you can name her whatever you want. She’s all yours.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Notes: I know this took a very sad turn but this piece means a lot me so I really hope you guys like it!

#acotar #fanfic #acotar imagine #sarah j maas #eris vanserra oneshot #eris vanserra imagine #eris oneshot #eris vanserra x reader #eris imagine #eris acotar #eris x reader #eris vanserra

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murdrdocs · 6 months

Note

Sigh I miss reading your stepcest 😔 Rafe and Sarah fighting for the attention of the newest addition to the Cameron household 😔😔 Both of them seeing red when their sweet innocent angelic stepsis starts pulling out dirty new tricks they didn’t teach her and she only could have learned from one other person 😔😔😔

god im pulling my hair out from the roots DARK CONTENT MDNI

both cameron siblings believing they're exclusive with their new stepsis. they pass off the infatuation from the other sibling as a typical cameron tryst, believing that the other was not nearly brave enough to act on their implications. cocky rafe thinks that darling little sarah is too much of a daddy's girl to commit the unspoken sin of fucking her new stepsis. and naive sarah chooses to think that rafe is too brazen and values ward's opinion too much to actually make a move on you.

it's not until many dinners and hangouts around the island together that they start to suspect their stepsister isn't only with them. sarah's hand brushing along your ass makes rafe rethink those squeals that sounded just like yours he heard from sarah's room late at night. rafe pulling you into his side makes sarah reconsider those times he's taken you shopping and you came back with a dazed look in your eyes.

their suspicions aren't ever verbally confirmed, but more so physically.

rafe comes to his conclusion when you have your lips around his cock, swirling your tongue and your hand in tandem all while making eye contact with him. it drives him crazy, seeing his previously innocent little stepsister on her knees like this, making him feel like that. and he's almost too lost in euphoria to ponder on where you've learned this from. just a few days ago, you'd seemed almost timid at the sight of rafe's length, shyly taking him in your hand and hesitantly bringing his tip to your lips. he urges you off of his cock, letting you take a breather before he cups your chin and stares you down. "have you been with anyone outside of this house?" and your answer is sincere, honest. a shake of your head and a curt "no". rafe almost grinds his teeth.

sarah comes to her conclusion when your fingers are deep within her. fingertips brushing along her walls, clearly searching for something, and just when sarah teasingly asks you what you're looking for, you find it. her words die off in a gasp, high and pretty and it makes your eyes widen. "there? it that the spot?" sarah's eyebrows furrow as she nods, her expression only intensifying whenever you dip down and press your tongue in around your fingers. she's seeing stars, a hand on your shoulder both to push you away and pull you closer. it's not until she cums that she starts to wonder where you'd learned it from, something she hadn't done to you nor have you done to her. you just shrug, wiping your mouth clean with the back of your hand and simply telling her, "someone did it to me before," before sauntering out of her bedroom and to the bathroom.

when sarah has her shorts pulled back up around her waist, she walks out of the bedroom to find you in the bathroom, bumping into rafe along the way. the stare they give each other is possibly the dirtiest thing of the entire ordeal, nothing but distaste and a hefty amount of rage behind similar gazes as rafe steps away from you and sarah steps towards.

meanwhile, you're none the wiser, humming to yourself as you fix your appearance.

#stepbro!rafe cameron #stepsis!sarah cameron #rafe cameron x reader #sarah cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you #sarah cameron x you #rafe cameron smut #sarah cameron smut #celeste writes obx

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pretty-little-mind33 · 3 months

Text

James Potter x slytherin!fem!reader

Summary: Playing Quidditch against your secret boyfriend is usually fun…

Genre: Fluff/hurt and comfort <3

Warnings: rivalry, chaser!captain!james, chaser!captain!reader, secret relationship (previous enemies to lovers), injuries, swearing, protective!james (my baby), short-ish

It had begun innocently.

You and James had promised not to tell anyone about your relationship for one week. Only that week turned into another, which eventually turned into four, and now it's much too awkward announcing to the entire school that you've been dating James Potter—the same boy you have publicly spent years saying you couldn't stand—for almost six months.

So, you never did, and neither did he.

However, the upside of your little arrangement was that now Quidditch is endlessly more entertaining.

"You ready, Cap?" Anne, your seeker, asks as you secure your gloves around your wrists. You nod and pull on the straps tightly. This is possibly the most important game of the season and you're determined to win.

You drown out the crowd's cheers when you mount your broom, adjust your hair, and fly up to where your lovely boyfriend is waiting for you to shake his hand.

James looks handsome, with his messy curls messier from the wind, and your heart flutters unintentionally. "Y/l/n," he says and balances on his broom as he grins.

"Potter."

He holds out his arm and looks around at his team and then at yours. "Good luck," James says and you know him well enough to hear his sincerity.

You take his hand, your breath hitching when his thumb caresses across your knuckles. It's such a quick brush you almost think you'd imagined it, but then James sends you a smile—that smile—and you know you hadn't imagined anything.

You drop his hand but return his smile. "May the best team win," your voice is smooth and you hear James chuckle as you fly away from him. You don't dare look back as you hide your smile and nod to your teammates.

The game starts normally, but as time progresses it becomes obvious this particular match is more competitive than usual. James's players become more flustered as the game continues, but you don't concern yourself with them as Slytherin is in the lead. Which, to your dismay, is more uncommon than you would like considering James's team is talented.

Annoyingly talented.

However, you should have been concerned considering when Danny Shepard hits the bludger directly at you out of pure anger, you're unprepared.

The front of your broom shatters from the force and you let out a loud scream when you jerk to the side, your broom malfunctioning as you plummet to the ground.

You can hear some of your teammates call out your name in worry but when you fall onto the grass and roll into the sidelines of a muddy ditch. Your eyes water as a piercing pain makes your head pound.

"Y/n!" James's calls and when you sit up, you see him land on the ground. He lets his broom fall without a care and sprints over to you. He kneels next to you and gently holds your head up, "Shit, shit, shit, shit," James sounds terrified. You blink. The world around him is spinning and his features are blurry.

"Help!" James screams and your heart leaps. What the hell is he doing? Everyone will know. You try to shake your head to tell him to shut up but you just wince in pain. James loops his arm around your back and concern etches his face when you cry out in pain from his movement.

You don't remember much after that. Just that some teachers and your teammates had rushed to your side to make sure you were okay. You weren't. You remember some of James's friends had to hold him back when the teachers hurried you to the Hospital Wing.

However, you wake up to him next to you. James is still in his Quidditch uniform, his head in his arms, his arm crossed beside your hips, as his chest lifts and falls lightly.

You blink, adjusting to the dim light from the lamp, and your shifting must wake James up because he looks up. Sheet lines are drawn on his cheeks and his voice is hoarse when he mutters, "Baby?"

"Hi," you whisper, forcing a small smile.

It's as if his entire face brightens and in his excitement James jumps up and wraps his arms around your shoulders. "Merlin, you're really okay! I was so worried," his voice sounds tense and when you wince a little, he moves back like he'd burned you. "Sorry, sorry," he blushes pink and slumps down onto the chair again.

"It's okay, Jamie," you smile at him and then ask, "What happened?" You look around you. It's dark outside. You must have been passed out for a few hours, at the very least.

"Shepard aimed his bludger at you out of anger," James hurries to explain, "He's off the team. Definitively. No arguments."

You smile at him a little but ask the important question, "You continued the game, did you?"

James nods solemnly, "Yeah, we did," he pauses as if debating something, "Gryffindor won," he says after a moment. Your eyebrows scrunch hearing him and you groan, cursing. James is quick to hold your hand. "But you'll beat us next time, lovie. It was such a close game."

You roll your eyes at him, turning your head to bury your face into your pillow. "You're such a twat," you whine and then look up at him through your hair, "this is why I disliked you."

James's smile falters, seemingly a little hurt. "I'm being serious! You played well. Your entire team did," he whispers, stroking his thumb over your hand.

You snort, "Oh, I know you're being serious, James. You're too kind. It's infuriating."

"Would you rather I rub my win in your face?" James asks with a raise of his brow. You sit up and glare at him. Admittedly, James has never been humble about his team winning a game but this was different.

You're his girlfriend now. His injured, and incredibly competitive, girlfriend.

"Well, nothing would have stopped you before," you say and James rolls his eyes. He leans in closer.

"Well, back then, I wouldn't have cared that one of my players hit you like that."

You send him a suspicious look.

"Okay, I would have cared, but not this much."

You smile. As much as you hate James for his undeniable chivalry and how annoyingly kind-hearted he is, if he wasn't then he wouldn't be the person you loved. And oh boy, do you love him.

"I want everyone to know about us," you say suddenly. James's eyes round like saucers. His hand finds yours and he tilts his head like a puppy, an endearing confusion gracing his features. He squeezes your hand in his.

"You must have really hit your head hard baby–"

"No," you interrupt him, your voice coming out stern, "I'm ready. I'm not ashamed. I've never been ashamed. I just didn't want anyone to know because if they did then they'd meddle, and if didn't know then you were mine. Only mine."

A smile curls James's lips. "What's changed?"

You look into his eyes. "Well, now I want everyone to know you are mine."

James raises and eyebrow and he chuckles. "So basically, you're claiming me?"

"Yeah, I guess I am."

With a smile, James nuzzles into you and then kisses your cheek, right under one of your bruises. "Good, because everyone already knows about us. When you passed out, I made too much of a scene and the game was up," he says sheepishly, "It's all anyone is talking about apparently."

You giggle as his breath tickles your skin and you hold his nape. "Fucking let them, I don't care. All that matters is that you're mine."

"I am yours," James confirms into your ear, "Wholeheartedly yours, Y/n."

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