#he’s almost at 3k likes which makes me so happy but like | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

inkyray · 1 month

Text

a/n: send more requests i love doing them for yall

3k words

warnings/content ahead: bsf!chris x virgin!reader, smut, oral fem!receiving (eating out yess), suggestive, p in v, fingering, pet names (princess), Fritos, missionary, and more come find out

BANG

Your roommate had just left to see her family for the next week, which meant you had the apartment all to yourself for a full 7 days. You were ecstatic, immediately letting Chris know.

brobrobro

guess what rn

You type excitedly, your fingers practically shoving a hole through your phone screen. The message immediately goes to seen, and you watch bubbles pop up, indicating he was typing.

You finally came to your senses and decided to move out of that disgracefully small apartment ?

dude no

you know i can't afford that shit

im staying here until i start making the bag i deserve !!!

Right

now guess

You cut all your hair off and went bald

Please tell me you went bald

Actually no

Please tell me you didnt go bald

nah not bald 💔

I GOT THE WHOLE APARTMENT TO MYSELF;!!!! FOR A WEEK!!

Holy fuck

The caps had me go BLIND trying to read

where's the happiness and the cheer

you better start typing back in caps.

YES! 😭 YOU HAVE THE ENTIRE PLACE TO YOURSELF!!

FOR HOW LONG? A WEEK I HEAR? IT'S ALMOST LIKE YOURE AN ADULT!

THAT MUST BE WHY I'M HEARING FOLK MUSIC AND TAP DANCING OUTSIDE!

god bless ☝️ now come over so we could politely watch a movie

hmmmm Depends

what movie is it

Ya Momma! 😂😅

sounds amazing

I'll be there in a few

You close your phone, getting up to quickly clean the place around you.

Chris was no stranger to you, you two had known each other since the day he threw up on you in middle school. He had caught a bug and unfortunately he sat behind you. You didn't really understand how throw up could reach past a desk capacity but it had somehow made it into your hair. Disgusting, horrific week. But he made it up to you.

For him, he moved to LA for work reasons. He was famous, although he didn't like to admit it, nor did it really feel like it for him. You moved because of college, the moment you two graduated out of highschool, it was as if the universe worked hard to get you two closer. And, it worked. You guys were closer now than you were in school.

You would split the rent with your roommate, which was already an expensive bunch, considering this was LA. But Chris would constantly insist on helping you out financially, paying for most of your things when you would practically beg him not to. You had a hard time receiving stuff, but Chris had a problem with giving. You two balanced each other out in that aspect.

You hear a knock on the door, already knowing who it is. It doesn't take you long to reach it. "Why are you holding Fritos?" You ask, huffing a laugh at the weirdly large bag of chips in his hand as he enters your apartment and heads for your bedroom.

"'Cus I wanted Fritos." He answers like it's the most obvious thing in the world, flopping on your bed as you follow him to your room. You notice a few pairs of socks on the floor that you failed to pick up, doing so. "You know, I had to like, Uber here. You know how fucking crazy that is? Ubering to your place? Fucking embarassing." Chris complains, taking off his shoes and cuddling up in your bed.

"Why didn't you just ask Matt?" You wonder, folding your clothes. "Matt didn't want to. I need to get my drivers license, bro. Shit is getting ridiculous." He opens his bag of chips, and your head snaps up. "Chris." You warn as he looks you dead in the eye, a smirk playing on his lips as he slowly raises a chip to his mouth.

"Chris, I swear to God if you drop a single crumb on my bed."

"I won't." He says, before dropping the chip back in the bag.

"I'm not hungry." He folds the chip bag and places it on your nightstand beside your bed. "You get what I mean though?" He asks, taking off his hat and running a hand through his hair. "Like, I cant ask Matt to fucking, I dont know, drive me to a hook-up or something." He huffs, exasperated from the imaginary scenario he created.

You sit beside him, nodding like you agree, grabbing the TV remote and opening up a streaming platform for movies on your TV. "Oh fuck, imagine I like, pull up to a bad bitches house in an Uber. That's so fucking wild." This time you laugh, "Ubering to get your shit sucked is crazy." You say, scrolling through the endless options of what to watch.

"You ever done that? Ubering to a sneaky links house or something?" Chris asks you, sitting up on your bed. You take a second to answer. "Well, I have my drivers license." You don't know why that would qualify as an answer, but you say it anyway. "But you don't have a car." Chris reminds you. "Right." You confirm, looking at your TV, pretending to be really interested in finding something to watch.

"So? Have you?" He questions with a chuckle, not really sure where you were going with that. "Chris, I'm a virgin." You grin at the irony. A second passes and he realizes you were being serious, his jaw drops. "You're joking."

You shake your head, turning to look at him. "But– you're like, a whore." He says, you scoff, "I'm not a whore?"

"Yeah, you are." He shrugs.

"No, I'm not. I literally just told you I'm a virgin." You put the remote down. "That's why I'm shocked, you would tell me about a new boy every week and then forget about them." He says. You pop a shoulder. "I just never felt comfortable enough with them."

"Oh." He mutters. "So you didn't bang?" He draws out.

"So I didn't bang." You confirm.

"You're nuts, you would say the most diabolical shit about them too." He points a finger at you. "I'm most definitely not." You push his finger down. "How old are you again, 19?"

"19 and untouched." You wink, he stares at you for a moment. "What? Can't wrap your head around the fact I've never been creampied?"

You watch Chris close his eyes, wait for a moment, then open them again. "I'd like for you to wrap your head around it."

"What?"

You two burst out laughing.

This movie was devastatingly long and the Fritos on the bedside table were completely neglected.

You and Chris were staring at the TV, both of you pretending to be interested in what was going on. Truth was, you both were lost in your own train of thought.

Chris had resorted to an extra pillow over his lap with his mind racing in all different directions. In his defense, he was human. Once you admitted to him that you were a virgin, he could help but think of all the ways that he could strip that away from you. How easy it would be for him to just bend you over and take that purity away from you.

It wasn't the first time he'd thought of you this way, he couldn't help it. You were gorgeous, and he got lucky with the fact that you were interesting. You were probably the only girl he'd met with a soul as beautiful as her face, that's what made you so special to him.

His eyes quickly darted to yours, who were watching the movie with such intent, he saw the screen reflect in your eyes, a new scene playing. The room was dark, the only light being produced was from the illuminated TV, keeping the place a simple shade of dull blue. His sight drags down to your lips. Your full, plump lips.

Chris wonders if you've ever wrapped them around dick before, sucking just as attentively as you were watching that movie. Sliding your tongue across the tip as you slowly pushed the rest in your mouth, your eyebrows arching as you began to stroke the rest of him. Even then, you'd still be considered a virgin.

You turned to look at him, feeling his gaze on you for too long. He didn't bother looking back, holding your stare as you tried putting together what he was thinking of. "Chris?" You asked with the same lips he was just thinking of. "Hm?" He hums, his eyes lazily back on your mouth, studying every word you form. "You okay?"

He nods, you furrow your eyebrows. He was definitely lost in thought. You lower the volume of the movie and he looks back up at you. "Are you celibate?" He asks, out of nowhere. You're taken by surprise, but answer nonetheless. "Not really?"

"Not really." He repeats on his tongue, as if testing the way it would feel on there. "Okay." He says, voice as low as it could get. "You were just never comfortable?" You nod, confirming it. You watch as his eyes slowly brush over every part on your face, eventually resting on your eyes. Through the enlightenment of the TV screen, you watch his dark pupils dilate over his blue eyes. "Would you be comfortable with me?" He finally asks, voice low. You swallow.

He had multiple strands of hair fly messily in multiple directions, some over his forehead. You raise a hand to neat a messy one on his head down, using two fingers to get rid of any potential knots, soothing your hand through it as he bends his head down, letting you. "Yeah." You answer. "I would."

He lifts his head up, his grin soft but undeniable."You wanna test it out?" You felt your heart cage within itself, but as the second passed you realized you wouldn't want to lose it to anyone else. You have been waiting for this moment for a while, a really, really long and dreadful while.You stared at his fidgeting finger before looking back up at him. A simple nod does the trick, and a hand is on the side of your jaw, guiding your mouth to his. You've kissed before, he knew that, but he was still treating you like a delicate flower. His lips pressed against yours and his hand was soft against your skin. You kissed back harder, licking his lips, forcing them open, insinuating for him to let loose.

Both hands go to grab each side of your face this time, kissing you hungrily as he moves himself from beside you to in front of you. Your neck is cranned up as he sits up onto his knees. You raise your hands and slip them under his shirt, feeling his bare skin as they slide down his torso. He pulls away, immediately taking his shirt off.

You looked up at him, his gaze lingering harshly on you as he stared you down. You bit your lip as he slowly grasped the bottom hem of your T-shirt. "Arms up." He orders, and you lift them. He takes the shirt off of you, bunching it up and throwing it to the side of your room. You aren't sure what to do, you hadn't exactly worn a bra under that. You cross your arms over your chest for some sort of coverage, but Chris quickly laces his fingers around your wrist. "It's okay." He tells you, slowly dragging your arms down. "Are you okay?" He asks soft enough to send a shutter down your spine. "I'm okay." You confirm, he leans down to kiss you once more, pulling away just as soon as his lips meet yours, going to take all of you in. Your body felt hot, your chest feeling as if it was steaming the way he memorized each of your curves. He looked up at you, making direct eye contact as he began to take one tit in his mouth as the other was being caressed by his hand. You throw your head back, surprising yourself with a moan as he begins to give you open-mouthed kisses, his tongue grazing over your nipple, validating its hardness.

His mouth begins to trail back up to your collarbone, leaving desperate kisses until he's reached your neck as his empty hand trailed down the side of your hips, his thumbs curling onto the elastic of your pants, pulling them down as he bit down a hickey. You gripped onto his hair, pulling onto the section that fell above the back of his neck as he distracted your mouth with tongue-filled kisses, but you were extremely aware of the hand that had slipped into your panties, two fingers suddenly pressing against you. You whimper.

"Everything okay, princess?" He breathily asks, watching your face scrunch up as he begins to rub your cunt. "So wet for me, how long have you been dreaming of this?" He tries to catch your eyes but they're sewed shut, the soft noises coming from your mouth giving him all the answers you need. His soft and lengthy fingers suddenly pump into you, and you gasp. "Chris." You utter, feeling him pump in and out of you as his thumb grazes harshly onto your clit. You flinch. "Chris." You moan louder.

"That's right, say my name." He says as he pumps you faster, his other hand grabbing the secure of your jaw. He wanted to feel your mouth back on his, he wanted to feel your moans and whines on his mouth. The clench in your stomach reaches an all time high and your hips buckle. Your stomach loosens and you feel your loud moans muffle harder by Chris's refusal to leave your lips, you feel him smirk under the kiss as you cum all over his fingers. "Feel good?" He questions, your nodding is instant and he laughs at the quickness of your answer. Your hand follows his hair as he begins to lower himself, kissing your stomach, thighs, and then your pussy. His tongue trails down your slit, his mouth collecting what had just been your orgasm. Your thighs immediately close around him, your legs going over his shoulders and crossing at your ankles. It was safe to say you've never been eaten out. Until now. And it was heavenly.

Your hands push down on his head, feeling his nose press against you and a huff of laughter giving your pussy a breathy gust of air. "So needy." He hums, licking your folds.

Embarrassingly enough, you reached your second orgasm, pulling hard onto his hair. He looked up at you, smiling with his teeth as white liquid drooped down them and off his chin. He fixes his posture, sitting up but still between your legs.

Catching your breath, you glare at him. "Still a virgin though." He sings the last word happily, memorizing the image in front of him as his hands massaged your thighs.

"You gonna change that or what?" You finally muster up a few real words, challenging him. He raises an eyebrow, "Oh?"

"Take your pants off for me? Let me feel you, Chris." You tell him, sounding awfully like a whiney, desperate order. The smirk is still playing on his lips, looking at you through his messy hair. "And to think you'd had enough."

"You promised me something, remember?" You palm his dick through his sweatpants, feeling him rock hard against your hand. Instinctively, he pushes his hips into your hand, and you squeeze his large size, whimpers sneak from his mouth. "It's obvious you hadn't had enough, though."

Chris wastes no time shoving his pants off taking it right down with his boxers. His dick springs up and you need a moment to register. Okay, woah.

"Finally fuck me?" You wonder. His grip on your hips were tight, as if he was keeping himself from suddenly ramming himself into you, keeping in mind you were trusting him with your virginity. "Finally." He confirms, the idea of fucking you in his mind since the moment he was able to form a thought like that.

He slowly enters himself in you, and your hand clasps around your mouth, trying to keep yourself from screaming at the sudden stretch. He clicks his tongue, letting out a series of curse words. "Fuck, you are so tight." You answer him by pushing yourself onto his cock as he holds you down. You clench yourself around him and he audibly moans, slowly rocking his hips back and forth. Each thrust was long, slow, and wet, you soaked up each movement desperately.

With his hand still holding onto you, he drops his head to look at the sin you two were participating in, guiding your hips in and out of him. Each pull rhythmic as he pushed himself deeper into you as you clench, trying to get used to the feeling. Your whimpers got louder as he went faster, hypnotized by the scene in front of him. He wanted to keep this memory locked in his head forever, how beautiful you looked sprawled against your bed, moaning his name as he thrusted in and out of you, taking away your virginity.

For a moment it all seemed too good to be real, and he went faster, wanting to see just how the narrative in front of him would go. The thrusts harsher and quicker, you gripped the sheets hard and your moans grew louder. "Taking me so well, princess." He hit your G-spot three times too fast, and you practically blasted him with cum. You tried warning him, but he seemed lost in his own mind. As if on cue, he pulled out the moment you came all over his dick. "Fuck." He followed that up with your name, finishing as his orgasm splattered on your stomach and chest, where he'd specifically aim it there.

He flops down on the empty spot beside you, both you guys attempting to catch your breath. A few seconds of shocked but comfortable silence pass.

He turns his head to look at you. "Good or nah? Wanna try again?"

"What, like, take my virginity again?"

"Yeah."

"How about we try a nice shot at my first ever aftercare, yeah? Then I'll consider it."

"Right, of course."

1K notes · View notes

aphrogeneias · 3 months

Text

...right? — one-shot

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader (modern!au)

summary: you're not sure of where you stand with eddie munson, but you're forced to confront your feelings after almost losing him.

word count: 3k

warnings: fluff and angst with a happy ending. jealous!reader. feelings of self-doubt. eddie munson is a sweetheart.

author's note: this one has been a long time in the making, and it may be a little melodramatic, but i'm doing a lot of self-projecting here, so be nice. thank you to @intrepidacious for reading it for me and giving me your approval <3 i'm sorry to all the girls named emma reading this, but i had to give that character a name.

We're performing tonight, if you want to stop by.

You'd been staring at this message for a couple of minutes now, unsure of what to do. You seemed to be in this dilemma a lot, as of late — to answer or not to answer, to show or not to show.

Too scared to show how you felt, but too scared to lose him at the same time.

Zoned out, you caught Robin’s hand flying in your direction from your peripheral. “Stop looking at your phone!”

She snatched it from your hand, still open in your conversation with Eddie. Robin whistled when she took a look at your screen, “Oh, I see. How are things with Mr. Headbanger?”

“You're talking to Eddie?” Chrissy chimed in from her side of the bed, lifting herself on one elbow to see you better with Robin between you.

The three of you had been like this all night, spread out on Chrissy’s queen bed, a sequence of old romantic comedies playing on her TV. There was an empty pizza box on her fuzzy carpet, and a half finished bottle of wine next to it, the second of the night.

You groan, trying to get your phone back to no avail. “Things have been… well, I think. Too well. I guess I've just been waiting for the other shoe to drop.”

Then, it was their time to groan.

Your friends like calling you jaded, but you consider yourself a realist.

It's been a topic of conversation between you for years. Ever since your last relationship ended, after you'd been left for another woman, when you swore off love for good — at first, they thought you were just grieving, it would take time to heal, of course, but you never really did.

You don't think you've ever been anything other than an open wound, in that sense, even before your ex. The high walls that were meant to protect you eventually became a prison you couldn't get out of. A princess and a dragon, all in one.

That is until Eddie Munson came into your life.

No one's ever made you want to drop those walls as much as he does. You'd met him through Chrissy, who’d been his friend since high school, and at first you thought he wasn't really flirting with you. He seemed to always be flirting with everyone, always getting a little too close. Until he asked you out, and you were still not convinced.

It could be a friend date. He could be after one of other friends. Maybe he was just passing time until he found someone better.

That was a few months ago, and Eddie hasn't gone anywhere.

He had a few shirts on your place, merch from various bands which you were growing fond of listening to them in his car. Shirts you would wear to bed when he wasn't spending the night, curling into bed with his smell on you. He'd made friends with your cat, and fixed your coffee in the morning the way you liked it, and left strands of hair loose in your shower.

A brave knight, that Eddie is.

Despite your closeness, and the honesty you see in his eyes whenever you're near him, neither one of you has put a name on what you have. It keeps you up at night, thoughts about calling him your boyfriend and have him laughing at your face. How could you be so stupid?

The thought of it brings tears to your eyes.

“What if that's it, though?” Chrissy interjects, with a gentle voice. Her small hand reached for yours, and gives it a reassuring squeeze. “What if there's no other intentions, no other shoe to drop? You have no reason not to trust him.”

“You say that because he's your friend.”

“Chris is right, babe.” Robin says, sitting straighter on the bed. “He’s never given you any reason to think like that. You need to let yourself go, just this once.”

You sigh, and mumble something along the lines of “Easier said than done,” as you sit up and pull your knees to rest your chin on them.

“You should go, by the way.”

Robin reaches to you with your phone in hand, handling it back to you. Her blue eyes are kind, understanding. Chrissy smiles from her place between you.

“Our local rockstar is waiting for you.”

You respond Eddie with a short omw <3 before your friends are pushing you out of your stupor, and into the street.

They’ve already finished their set by the time you arrive at The Hideout.

You're dressed entirely inappropriate for a dive bar full of metalheads and middle-aged bikers, but you don't let yourself think too much about it because no one really notices you coming in, except for the bouncer who compliments you on your old college sweatshirt.

The night is well beyond starting. The bar is full, and it takes you a while to find Eddie, but when you do, he finds you immediately.

He's at the foot of the stage, talking to his friends. The rest of the band is around too, and you wave at them as Eddie makes his way towards you. The smile that pulls on your lips is uncontrollable when he, with an excited smile of his own, takes you in his arms, wrapping himself around you. “Hi! You just missed the show!”

“I'm sorry! I was at Chrissy’s.”

You take a second to look at him closely. His wild hair is a little damp, and his Accept shirt has the sleeves cut off, which shows more of his tattoos. There's a studded belt on his hips, and you don't think too much before pulling him closer by it.

Eddie kisses you on the forehead, and his lips linger a little bit before pulling away. “Did you tell her I said hi?”

“Forgot to. But next time I'll make sure to send your regards.”

When he's close like this, you almost forget your doubts. When his arm is around your shoulders and he's pulling you close, the smell of his cologne and the last cigarette he smoked before going on stage cling to you, and you cling to it in turn.

“Good, and make sure to arrive on time next time too because we played your favorite and you weren't here.” He pouts dramatically, putting one hand to his chest.

The gasp you let out matches it. “Metal Health? Eddie, no!”

“Eddie, yes!” He shakes you a little, turning you in the direction of the tables. “We played Quiet Riot, and you weren't here to see it. Have to say I'm a little disappointed, sweetheart.”

Walking along with him, you stop when you reach a vacant booth on the corner. Turning to face him fully, you leave a soft kiss on his stubbled chin. “I guess you'll just have to keep playing it, then.”

“Does that mean you'll come to every show?”

There's no space between the two of you, standing chest to chest with each other. The rest of the bar disappears. “I might, if you'll have me.”

“Baby, I'll…”

The bubble you find yourselves in shatters and breaks when Eddie stutters, and turns, because there is someone poking him on the back, disturbing your moment. It's a woman, asking to speak to him.

You don't really register what she's saying. All you know is that you've seen her around before, and you know she's friends with the guys. Eddie apologizes to you as he's being dragged away for a private conversation. “I'll be right back! Don't go far.”

Nodding, you remain frozen in place.

They don't go far, but you can't really tell what they're talking about, but her hand on his forearm, slowly rising to his bicep, tells you everything you need to know.

You don't realize it but you're shaking a little bit, cold sweat prickling through your suddenly frigid skin. There's a ringing in your ears, and a lump growing in your throat, but you can't stop yourself from looking.

He looks beautiful like this. The light from the now empty stage hits his figure from the back, making him look every bit like the rock god he's always aspired to be. The frizz on his hair creates a halo around his head, and you think you might faint.

To his credit, he doesn't get any closer to the girl. Doesn't flirt back. His smile is polite, and he maintains a sensible distance, but that's not enough to ease your mind.

He's only keeping a distance because you're here. Your mind says, always the traitor. You're holding him back. He could be making out with a different girl every night. Maybe he is. Maybe he is and you're none the wiser. Better walk away now. Go, before your heart breaks.

It's already breaking, and you're the culprit.

You almost don't notice Eddie return to you, as your vision’s gone blurry.

“Sorry, Emma wanted to invite me to an after party. Told her I was busy.” There it was, his easy smile again. From a first look, you wouldn't think Eddie Munson smiles so easily, but it's always there, pulling on his full lips and showing off his dimples.

You would smile back, as usual, but it's like your face can't move.

“Just you?” You ask, “Not the rest of the boys?”

He laughs, but there's not much humor behind it. “Just me.”

“Aren’t you gonna say anything?” He is still grinning, raising one eyebrow at you, as if taunting you to speak up. Something rotten spreads through your insides, stirring them, rising like bile right through your opened mouth.

“Say what? It's not like we're dating, Eddie."

If regret could kill, you would be dead the moment you saw his face fall. Eddie's expressiveness is a double-edged sword — his happiness was contagious, but when he’s upset, there is nothing that could distract you from the way his bambi eyes plead to you.

You double down anyway, already feeling like a fool, but too stubborn to take back what you said.

"...right?"

“Is that what you think?” He asks, a pout on his pretty lips. “Is that what you want?”

“I… I don't know.” Your mouth is moving, but it's like you don't have control over what you're saying anymore. Like you can't even hear yourself, too taken by the dread that has taken over your body. “I think… What do you think?”

You throw the question back at him because you can't be the first one to say it. Because if he backs out, if you say what you really want — and it's him, he's all you've ever wanted, and the realization hits you like a punch to the gut — and he says it's never been quite like that, that he doesn't want you the same way, that he's just been passing the time, you would break.

Eddie looks away from you, then. His fingers pinch the bridge of his nose, “You're not sure what you want, is that what you're telling me?”

“No! No, it's not like that.” You almost choke on your own spit, “I'm just…”

Scared. Of opening your heart, of rejection, of him leaving when he learns how much you want him, need him.

“If you're not sure of what you want, I think you should take some time to think about it.”

“But, Eddie, I…”

“Think about it, and call me when you know.”

One of his hands goes to your shoulder, squeezing it, and briefly running thumb over the fabric of your sweatshirt. He's turning around before you can stay anything, the lump in your throat too big to allow you to speak.

The room feels like it's turning upside down as you turn the other way, towards the door. It turns and turns on its axis, and you almost lose your balance as you're making your way out. You wave halfheartedly at the bouncer, who waves back at you in the middle of his conversation with a green haired girl.

Walking home, you have time to think of what you'd just done.

As the tears roll freely through your face, and you wipe them with the end of your sleeves, you think of Eddie’s sullen face, once full of life, now transpiring his disappointment in you. You'd let him down, and it was all your fault.

In an attempt to protect yourself, you pushed him away.

You imagine him back at the bar, with the boys. With Emma, ready to console him after what you just did to him. The thought of it just makes you cry harder, trying to control your breathing as you get closer to your apartment.

You did what you always do. Leave first, turn your back, clam up back into your shell. You just never thought you'd do that to him.

It doesn't take long until you spiral.

You did all you could after you got home. Tried to breathe, but it only made you cry harder. Curled up on the couch with your cat, a brown tabby that curled herself right back into you, and cried until there were no tears left. Ignored your friends’ messages on your phone, pretending everything was all right.

Tried to drink, but felt too sad to even open your fridge. Ran into one of Eddie’s hoodies hanging from the back of a chair in your room, and felt more tears coming, but no strength to cry.

Everything in your room reminded you of him — your unmade bed where he'd be lying on if you didn't screw up, the fantasy book he'd let you borrow on your bedside table, a polaroid of the two of you with your arms around each other serving as a bookmark.

You pick your phone, and it rings and rings. He doesn't answer. In a moment of panic, you leave a message instead, pacing through your room on your bare feet, still wearing the clothes you went out in. The cat on your bed follows your movements with her eyes.

“Hi, Eddie. I… You might not even want to hear from me right now, and I get that. Really, I do, but… You just need to know I know I fucked up. I didn't mean to do you like that, I didn't mean to say those things to you.”

Your voice trembles, just like the hand that's holding your phone to your mouth, but you keep going, “Of course we're dating, we've been dating for a while now. I was too scared to say anything because we never put a label on it and I thought you didn't want anything with me, I guess I just didn't want to be the first one to say it in case you decided this wasn't… that I wasn't… what you wanted.”

There's a few seconds pause as you take a deep breath, and release it in an anguished sigh. “What I'm trying to say is… that I like you. A lot. Have since the beginning. And I understand if you didn't want anything to do with me anymore because of what I just did, but… if you still want to talk, I'm… I'm still here, okay? I'm still here.”

When you're finished, you throw your phone back on your bed, and wait.

You're still pacing around the house, a mug full of tea in hand, when you hear your phone vibrating on your bed. You almost don't pick it up, but you do anyway.

Two notifications from Eddie.

Can I come over?

Are you still up?

Hands shaking, you answer with a simple Yeah. Key’s on the carpet.

The clock on your screen says it's 2:22 AM.

You hear your door opening not too long after that, the spare key turning on the lock, as you're sitting on the couch, writing like a kid that's to be scolded when their parents come home. The mug of tea is half empty at your feet, and now cold, just as your nervous hands as Eddie comes through the door.

Wearing a Metallica sweatshirt, an older one that you've borrowed before, one you know how soft it feels on the skin, he comes in and silently closes the door behind him, leaving the key on a small ceramic plate by it.

You cave in before he can say anything. “I'm sorry.”

Your chin is wobbling again, but you swallow it down, not wanting to make a scene. Eddie comes closer, and sits next to you, careful not to kick the mug that you left carelessly on the floor.

“No, I'm sorry. I should have said something, I should have told you what you meant to me sooner. You know… I've been calling you my girlfriend to everyone but to the person who matters the most.”

“Everyone?” You repeat, “Everyone who?”

“The guys. At work. Wayne…”

“You told your uncle I'm your girlfriend?” The word feels foreign in your tongue, but not unpleasant. Eddie looks sheepish, but the corner of his mouth twitches and lifts just a bit, one of those dimples you love making an appearance in your dimly lit living room.

“Yeah. Like I said, everyone but the one who matters the most.”

There it is. That earnestness, pouring through him, warming you up from the inside out.

“And I guess… Am I the person you mean?”

“Who else would it be?” He's tilting his head now, kind eyes aimed at you. You huff a weak laugh, them, relief hitting you in waves. Not thinking too much, you throw yourself at him, hugging him by the shoulders, and folding your legs under your thighs to be closer to him.

“I'm still sorry, though. Sorry that I made you think I had doubts, or that I…”

Eddie doesn't let you finish, shushing you with a hand on the back of your head, and another wrapping around your waist, keeping you in place. “It's okay, sweetheart. I'm sorry too.”

“Since we're both sorry, does anyone have to be sorry at all?” You mumble into his shoulder, taking in his smell through his clothes. It soothes you more than anything can, along with his voice vibrating through his chest, and the warmth of his body clinging to yours.

“I think we can discuss the details in the morning.”

He seals it with a kiss to your temple. You and your boyfriend sleep on that same couch, and in the morning, there is nothing left to say.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fanfic

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hongthoven · 2 months

Text

one-shot 𖹭 3k w

pairing 𖹭 kim hongjoong (ateez) x fem reader

tags 𖹭 fluff, smut, established relationship, idol!hongjoong, family trip, you know he'll be having you in that hot tub at some point

✏️ okay so this wasn't planned but Bumjoong's vlog got me spiraling into some ⊹ ࣪ ˖ thoughts ⊹ ࣪ ˖ and I couldn't stop thinking about joining Hongjoong on that family trip -- and may I add, that hotspring? You know I had to.

pls reblog & comment if you like it 𖹭

When Hongjoong had asked you to join him and his family on a trip to Sapporo, your first instinct was to panic— This would be your first time meeting his parents and only your second encounter with Bumjoong ever since your boyfriend’s last tour. Back then, even the idea of having lunch with Hongjoong and his older brother was already nerve-wrecking enough. Lucky for you, Bumjoong was the most welcoming human and had worked extra hard to make you feel comfortable by sharing some precious childhood memories including his younger brother pulling a tantrum over an ice-cream and how he would always crash his football games with his friends when he wasn’t much bigger than the ball itself.

Now this was different. Meeting his parents, spending days with his whole circle and living under the same roof seemed like a commitment your anxiety couldn’t seem to handle peacefully. Of course you were more than happy and flattered he would even consider bringing you along with him— any signs of this man committing to you more than enough to have you kicking your feet and screaming into a void. Hongjoong was a busy man and dating Ateez’s captain wasn’t always easy when it came to matching your schedules so you could spend quality time together. When he wasn’t spending the night at his studio, your man was either busy promoting his music, writing for other artists, working on his next photography exhibition or flying to Paris’ Fashion Week.

Still— every single one of his accomplishments felt like yours and Hongjoong always made sure to include you in every single step towards another successful experience. So when your lovely boyfriend had kindly suggested for you to take a couple days off from work so you could fly to Japan with his family, there wasn’t much left for you but to agree as Hongjoong did his best to reassure you when you immediately told him about your worries: his parents not liking you, embarrassing yourself, crashing their family time when you weren't even part of it— to which Hongjoong was quick to reply with the most unexpected piece of informations, sending you spiraling into thoughts of a future you were too afraid to dream about.

“Y/N— you’re part of my family already…” That was the validation you needed from him. The thought of him talking about you with his parents, letting them know about meaningful details of your relationship, made your heart grow twice its size. And while you were still nervous to meet them, you knew nothing could possibly go wrong when Hongjoong was by your side.

By the end of your first day, you already felt like part of the family. After hours spent walking in the snow, taking pictures, gazing at the gorgeous landscape and tasting some local delicacies, you were practically tight by the hip with Hongjoong’s mother as you walked back to the beautiful accommodation your boyfriend had rented for the entire family.

“My mom is kind of obsessed with you” Hongjoong growled as you finally caught some time to yourselves, spread out over the bed with your boyfriend resting on top of you, the coldness of his palms sending shivers all over your stomach as he slipped his hands under your sweater with a content sigh. “I’m a bit jealous actually— she’s keeping you all to herself” he almost whined, his lips reaching for your neck, forcing a soft giggle out of your lips “can’t even hold my girl’s hand or anything— such a thief” he added, biting your skin while the tip of his tongue collected your scent, reaching for your earlobe.

“Joongie— your family’s right next door” you huffed, trying to wiggle out of his embrace as he looked up to lock his beautiful yet sleepy eyes with yours. It had been a long day, following a long week of a packed schedule and you could definitely tell he was a minute from passing out from intense fatigue— but he still looked breathtaking with his blonde streaks covering half of his face and his pink lips, tempting as candy, desperately reaching for yours, only to melt into the softest kiss as he eventually complied. Closing his eyes for a minute, Hongjoong made himself comfortable with his face buried into your neck and his hands still resting under your sweater, framing you with his entire body.

It wasn’t long until you heard his breathing slowing down, its delicate sound mixing with some slight snoring from being completely burned out. Happy to see him resting at last, your hands found their way into his hair and at the back of his neck, kneading his skin tenderly as you watched the beautiful winter scenery getting darker by the end of the afternoon.

A knock on the door made you flinch into your slumber and your first instinct was to look down and make sure Hongjoong was still fast asleep— when he failed to react, your eyes found Bumjoong standing in the doorway, trying to make himself as discreet as possible, his palm covering his eyes.

“Are you guys decent?” he asked with a nervous chuckle as you immediately cleared the scene with a soft tone, the sight of his passed out brother making the older one smile endearingly.

“I think we’ll pass on dinner, can you excuse us to your parents? I think he needs this…” You whispered with one hand still locked into your boyfriend’s hair, scratching his scalp softly. Without a word, Bumjoong gave you an understanding nod as an answer and closed the door behind him, leaving you with nothing but the peaceful quietness of the bedroom as company.

After a while, you figured Hongjoong was gone for the night and decided not to rot in bed any longer— your body was getting pins and needles from staying in the same position for hours, keeping your boyfriend locked into your embrace as he snored peacefully against your chest. Though you were slightly reluctant to let go of him, the warmth of his skin as a reminder of how long it had been since you two were in the same bed, you eventually managed to roll Hongjoong over to his side, stealing a muffled complaint out of him as he called out your name in his sleep, to which you replied with a tender kiss at the crook of his neck before rolling out of bed and escaping the bedroom as quietly as possible.

The hotspring was practically calling your name as you walked into the private patio on the second floor, ready to dive into your book and enjoy some snacks while bathing in hot water— now this looked like a holiday. Everything around was quiet, peaceful if not for a couple of birds still chirping into the night. You were thankful for Hongjoong asking you to take a bathing suit although you were left a little puzzled at his odd request for a snowy weekend away— but you also couldn’t miss the little evil smirk on your boyfriend’s face when giving you a house tour, his hand palming the small of your back as he made sure to let you know just how much he expected to have you there, in this bath, as soon as his family would be gone. He would find an excuse, book a table at some fancy restaurant, pretend to have some work emergency and keep you around for support, only to bend you over the tiles and make you scream his name over and over again.

Unable to focus on your book as you kept reading the same page until it made some sort of sense, you tried to remember the last time you and Hongjoong were able to share that type of intimacy, your thighs instantly clenching at the sudden memory of his last concert in Saitama. You typically tried not to ever miss a concert whenever you could travel along but this tour you wouldn’t miss for anything— for months, you had seen Hongjoong practice his guitar skills, lessons after lessons, massaging his calloused fingers every time he took it too far — almost every day, so when it was time to witness your boyfriend in all his glory as he stood on stage ready to wreck an entire Dome, you were actually thankful to be seating alone, your entire body radiating with lust and the absolute urge to kneel in front of him to swallow his junk entirely.

Which you did, precisely 2 hours later, as soon as you were left alone with him backstage. Hongjoong had practically kicked the other members out without any effort to hide his intentions. You could actually hear Wooyoung snickering behind the door and making some crude comment to Mingi about how their captain was about to ‘get some’, which you both decided to ignore. Without any sort of ceremony, Hongjoong was quick to spit into your open mouth and guide himself between your lips, both his hands pushing at the back of your head until you could feel the familiar taste of precum spilling off his slit and into the back of your throat. You could never get enough of the way he seemed to melt against your tongue as you traced every single vein along his cock with just the tip like he was your favorite flavor.

When it came to being vocal, Hongjoong knew how to drive you past the edge of insanity with little whimpers and the nastiest words wrapped into the delicacy of his voice, like the melted chocolate heart of your favorite cake. You would never get rid of the way he often crossed the line, way past his usual cute pet names, only to call you his ‘little slut’ as he rutted himself into your mouth, stealing air out of your lungs as his hands started to tremble into your untamed hair.

The water was getting too hot, suddenly— the simple thought of Hongjoong slowly pushing your lips open with his tip making you foam at the mouth. Without realizing, your thighs had started to press against one another, rolling up and down slightly, just to give you enough friction for a quick relief. You could tell your entire body was now getting worked up over your fantasies, your back arching naturally as you eventually pushed your book to the side, suddenly uninterested in any sort of Literature. Wrapped into a cloud of steam, your body was craving a touch— yours, but mostly Hongjoong’s, and as you slowly slid your hand along your chest, brushing your erected nipple on your way down, you couldn’t help but feel a little nervous at the thought of being caught. What would your in-laws think? What would Hongjoong say if he heard about his parents walking on his girlfriend touching herself in the hot tub?

All these thoughts were quickly gone as soon as your hand found its nest between your thighs, three of your fingers pressed against your core as a soft moan escaped your lips, echoing into the empty patio. Or so you thought.

“Baby?” Though you immediately recognized Hongjoong’s voice, you were quick to stiffen back into the corner of the tub, red at the cheeks as you turned around to face your boyfriend’s mixed expression. He was definitely confused— but also quite obviously aroused. Not to mention half naked now that his sweater was gone, leaving him in a pair of sweatpants, his hair now a chaotic blond mess from sleeping for too long and his bare chest already coated with steam from the temperature of the room. He looked like an absolute snack you couldn’t wait to devour.

“You should have woken me up if you needed it so bad?” Hongjoong smirked, peeling himself off his sweatpants only to leave you gasping at the sight of his exposed, already semi-erected cock for a second before he dived into the bath.

“You looked like you needed some good sleep” you half-pouted as soon as he pulled you against him, forcing you to sit on his lap with one leg on each side of his frame.

“I need you more” without any sort of warning, Hongjoong reached for your throat, wrapping all five of his fingers around it as his lips found yours, tongue teasing until you caved and deepened the kiss, soft moans dying into his mouth as you started to grind over his lap while his stiffening member threatened to push your bikini bottom to the side with each thrust from your aching hips.

“Fuck— I’ve missed you so much baby— fucking insane—” his words were coming out a little sharpier, halfway between a confession and a command while his lips traveled down to your neck, sucking a soft, pink bite out of your skin with one hand already pulling at your bikini top. You couldn’t help but feel extremely exposed as one of your tit disappeared into Hongjoong’s palm, the other already settled between his lips as he sucked desperately at your flesh like a starving newborn.

“You gonna let me fuck you here?” he asked, his tone the opposite of innocent as you clenched over nothing, pushing your core against his groin until you couldn’t take it anymore. Nothing else mattered now. The glass windows surrounded you, making you both vulnerable and exposed— the idea of his family coming home any minute, only to find you there with their youngest son balls deep into your cunt. All you could think about was to be filled and to reach climax as soon as possible. It had been weeks since you had last felt Hongjoong’s body so close to yours and a treat was overdue.

“Please” you almost weeped, using your fingers as a hook to push your bikini to the side until you felt his tip pushing against your entrance, thicker than ever.

“Oh you’re gonna beg, love?” you couldn’t say a thing— not a word— as you nodded almost hysterically, your bottom lip tucked between your teeth like a misbehaving child ready to be grounded. Though his words were tempting and his gaze wrapped into that cocky frown you knew too well, Hongjoong’s hands were nothing but tender over your skin, his love pouring out of him in the shape of his palms stroking your arms, shoulders and the back of your neck like you were nothing but glass, about to shatter against his chest.

“You’re so fucking pretty— can’t believe you’re mine” his words took you by surprise, his thumb brushing your bottom lip while you felt him aligning himself perfectly against your aching core. His eyes were locked on the way your mouth instantly wrapped around his digit, sucking at the tip like the ghost of that part of him you were now craving.

“Go ahead and beg” he added, more demanding this time, your body going limp against him as you struggled to even breathe from the absolute urge to be consumed entirely by the love of your life.

“Hongjoong— please?” you finally begged, lips turned into a pout while your hand reached for his cock, ready to wrap around it. You had never felt emptier.

“What do you think you’re doing, love?” Hongjoong smirked, his own hand wrapping around yours but never truly stopping you.

“Need you” you were a blurbing mess by now, lids heavy and hips almost jolting against him as you felt him stretching you out a little with his tip only, both your hands still tightly wrapped around his shaft. You could feel every inch of him— into your palm, pushing against your walls, everywhere, always amazed at the way his cock seemed to be exclusively crafted for your cunt.

Once he was settled, balls deep into you, Hongjoong reached for the small of your back, pulling you closer to his chest as you instinctively rolled your hips against him, collecting the sweetest sound out of his throat as your boyfriend tilted his head back, hitting the tile with his wet hair while thrusting painfully slow into you. The room was filled with soft, muffled moans and the sound of water splashing over the rim, soaking the floor with each, deeper thrust. Everything felt and sounded like absolute bliss— the roughness of his chest against your palms, the way his fingers dug into the flesh of your ass cheeks everytime he pulled you harder, bottoming out only to rocket his hips back into you— nothing could beat this feeling, this fullness, the sincere love you could see in his eyes as his lips turned into an ‘o’ every time your eyes met.

Reaching for your neck, Hongjoong pulled you closer to melt his lips into yours, his kiss more eager this time as his tongue battled with yours while his hand kept you still with a soft grip around your throat. Lost into his embrace, it took you a minute to realize he was now completely still inside of you.

“Could stay like this forever” he smiled, his palm cupping water on the surface only to pour it over your chest, his eyes following every drop as it raced over your breast like the most beautiful piece of Art. While still tightly clenched between your folds, the way he gazed at you, his fingers tracing some invisible forms over your chest, was the most intimate thing you had ever experienced with anyone. Something in his eyes made you feel safe and vulnerable at the same time, like you were precisely where you belonged.

It only took a few more thrusts for you to bite a moan into his shoulder, your entire body stiffening with bliss as Hongjoong chased you to the top, his entire face buried into your chest as he lifted himself just enough to rocket back into you harder until his cries echoed into the quietness of the night while your walls locked around his load, turning him into absolute shambles as Hongjoong started to shake slightly into your arms from a hint of overstimulation.

Red at the cheeks, blonde streaks pushed back, Hongjoong tried to compose himself, his breathing gone to absolute chaos as he kept his arms locked around your figure, unwilling to let go just yet.

“Think I’m gonna marry you” he blurted out, his forehead pressed to yours— leaving you once again, completely speechless.

#ateez #kim hongjoong #ateez smut #hongjoong smut #hongjoong x reader #ateez fluff

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eddiethehunted · 5 months

Text

hey y'all here's yet another "i'll probably never finish this" snippet — this one's considerably longer (near 3k words!) so maybe it's okay <3

post-vecna, fwb, idiot4idiot, you know how it is. trans eddie but it’s not really relevant to this piece lol

18+ for sexual themes and also one usage of the f slur

——————————

Eddie knows he's acting weird—or, weirder than usual—but he can't muster up the energy to care.

He's not really talking, sitting off to the side and kind of just listening in. It’s not that he doesn’t want to hang out with anyone, or whatever—it’s that he doesn’t think he can handle hanging out with Steve.

He's successfully avoided Steve all night and he plans on keeping it that way. That is, of course, until Robin, tipsy and warm and happy from the beers she's been crushing all night, gets up and pulls Steve over to the swing chair with them.

Eddie considers fleeing while she’s not sitting on his knee forcing him to stay there, but he’s not quick enough. She flops back down and brings Steve with her, giggling as he stumbles and bitches and complains about it, making the chair swing back and forth and jostle them all together in a way that would normally have Eddie laughing with her.

Instead, all he can do is stare beyond Nancy’s head, rolling his beer between his hands distractedly and wishing the alcohol would hit him even half as hard as it’s hitting Robin. Maybe then he wouldn’t want to fucking bash his head into the wall right now.

He can see Nancy giving him a weird, curious stare, and look, he likes Nancy, really. She’s cool and badass and he’s kind of scared of her, which is awesome. But he’s not about to talk to Steve’s ex about this fucked up friends-with-benefits to maybe-not-even-friends-anymore-and-definitely-without-benefits trainwreck he’s gotten himself into.

Robin sandwiches herself in between them, a sharp elbow digging uncomfortably into Eddie's ribs. Eddie is being absolutely assaulted by Steve's cologne and presence and warmth and he's not okay. His heart feels like it's going to explode and he wants to leave so fucking bad.

Robin starts rambling about graduation and college to Nancy. Eddie tunes out quick, because Steve's arm is flung over the back of the chair and he's rubbing these distracting little circles on Eddie's shoulder, through his shirt. He can feel Steve's eyes burning holes into the side of his face, over Robin's head.

Steve's touch is distracting normally, but even more so now because it's been almost three weeks since Eddie has seen him, and even longer since he's touched him. The last time they were this close, he'd had Steve climbing into his lap, panting and grinding on him and kissing him like he was trying to steal the air out of his lungs. Whispering Eddie’s name like a prayer between breathy little whines as if it fucking meant something.

The painful throbbing in his chest is nearly as bad as the uncomfortable ache between his legs, and he almost forgets that he's trying to distance himself when he feels Steve shift closer. Robin's leaning forward to talk to Nancy, and that leaves plenty of room behind her for Steve's hand to move, to curl into the hair at the nape of Eddie's neck. Plenty of room for Steve to lean into his space and god, Eddie is having a really hard time keeping a grip on his self-control because all he wants to do right now is pull Steve into the bathroom and fucking get on his knees and make it so that he's the only one Steve will ever want.

“Been a while,” Steve says conversationally. Casually. Eddie wants to fucking kick him.

“Uh-huh,” he replies, not willing to give Steve more than that. It earns him a huff, and Eddie doesn’t have to look to see that Steve’s rolling his eyes at him.

His voice is quiet and trickles down Eddie's spine when he says, "You've been avoiding me."

Eddie can't think of a good response, his voice sticking in his throat, his brain full of static. He finally swallows and vaguely says, "You think so?"

Steve's hand squeezes the back of his neck and every single nerve in Eddie's body lights up. Robin is right there. Like, she's half-sitting on Eddie's thigh. This is—its a really bad fucking time for Steve to be touching him.

"Why?" Steve asks him. He sounds hurt, but also a bit angry, and that shouldn't turn Eddie on but it really, really does.

He likes that Steve's hurting. No, really, he does. Because at least it's not just him. (He's never claimed to be a nice fucking person, okay? He knows he's a bit of a selfish asshole, and he's fine with that.)

He's not having this conversation while Robin is sitting on top of both of them, so he jerks away from Steve and gets up, not paying any attention to Robin's indignant shout as he storms into her house. He's been here enough times that he knows the way to the bathroom even with all the lights off, but he doesn't have the chance to shut the door before there's a foot blocking it.

Steve pushes in, looking pissed, and so, so hot. Eddie's knees feel like jelly and his stomach squirms like he's going to be sick. Emotional confrontation is like, the actual fucking worst, and there's Steve, angry and hurt and crowding him against the counter in Robin's bathroom, looking him dead in the eyes.

"Why are you avoiding me?"

His hands are on either side of Eddie's hips and their faces are so close Eddie could count his eyelashes if he tried hard enough. His cheeks are burning, his voice stuck in his throat, and he's annoyed because Steve knows that being pinned like this gets Eddie hot, and that's not fucking fair.

"I'm not," Eddie lies through his teeth. "I've just been busy—"

Steve snorts, cutting him off with a mean laugh. "Yeah, real busy, I bet. Must be hard work pretending I don't fucking exist."

Eddie is like, five seconds away from either punching Steve or kissing him. He hates that this is doing something for him right now, hates how hot Steve is when he's mad.

"Get off of me," he snaps, but it doesn't sound convincing. Steve's gaze drops to his mouth, just for a second, before it flicks back up.

"Did I do something?" he asks desperately, looks at Eddie with those big, dark eyes. Eddie presses his lips together firmly, biting the insides of them, because if Steve keeps looking at him like that Eddie's gonna let him bend him over this goddamn countertop. Steve seems to take his silence as confirmation, and makes a quiet, sad sound.

"You can tell me, Eddie," he says, a bit softer, like some of the anger has evaporated out of him. "I miss you."

That hurts.

Eddie wants to throw up. "Don't say that to me."

Steve frowns. "Why not? What, I can't miss you? Can't wonder what the fuck I did to piss you off so bad that you won't even look at me?" He backs off, a bit, enough for Eddie to breathe, crossing his arms tight across his chest. "One day you're shoving my dick down your throat and the next you're acting like you hate me. Kinda makes a guy wonder what happened."

"I don't—hate you," Eddie manages, nearly choking on his words because he doesn't want to say them, but the sad, hurt eyes Steve's giving him pull them from out of his chest. "I'm not even—I'm not even fucking mad at you, Steve. I'm not—this is so stupid." He rubs a hand over his face. “I just… I can't keep doing this shit. This—whatever it is.” He gestures vaguely between them. “Hooking up. Whatever."

Steve's shoulders slump forward. He moves back, until they're not touching at all and there's a few feet between them. He sounds exasperated and frustrated when he says, "Okay, so don't! You could've just told me you didn't want to fuck around anymore. I’m not gonna be mad or something. Jesus, Eddie, you can like, talk to me. I give a shit about being friends more than, like, getting some ass or whatever.”

Steve's not getting it, which is maybe for the best, but the distance between them makes Eddie want to pull his hair out. "No, I mean—" He can't help but reach out, tugging Steve a little closer by the loop of his jeans, which makes him flush so pretty. “I don't wanna stop."

"So...don't?" Steve says slowly, warily. One warm hand wraps around Eddie's arm, like he’s not sure if he’s allowed. "We can keep... I dunno, doing whatever. Whatever you want. Even just… hanging out. Or watching a movie, or—uh, yeah, whatever.” He swallows, glances down at Eddie’s mouth, and Eddie’s sure he knows just what Steve’s thinking about.

He can't help but laugh, because he's sure that what he really wants is not within the realm of what Steve is okay with. Sex is fun, but—god, Eddie wants to be allowed to love him. He’s already opened himself up more to Steve than anyone else. Steve already knows things about him that nobody else does, except his uncle. It’d been so easy to fall in love with him.

"That's the thing. I don't think we're on the same page."

Steve looks so confused that it would be funny if Eddie wasn’t on the verge of spilling his guts, of throwing up his heart all over Steve right now.

“I need you to elaborate, man,” Steve says. “‘Cause you’re giving some crazy mixed signals right now.”

“I don’t want to just keep hooking up with you. I know this all started just as fun and it is fun, but it’s driving me crazy,” Eddie lets out a frantic little laugh, feels like he’s going to start hyperventilating, but he’s started now and can’t stop, “I’m so into you it’s insane, Steve. Like, I like you. So fucking much. So much it makes me want to rip my hair out or something. I can’t keep doing this knowing it doesn’t mean the same thing to you and I can’t keep pretending that the thought of you with someone else doesn’t make me want to die. Okay? I can’t. It—it hurts and it fucking sucks and I can't do it anymore.”

His voice is shaking by the end of it, and he knows by the burning feeling in his eyes and nose that he’s about to start crying. Because this is it—this is what he’s been dreading, all this time: the moment that the other shoe drops, the moment that Steve rejects him. He’s a nice guy, he’ll do it kindly, let Eddie down gently, but that’ll hurt more. Eddie needs Steve to like, punch him in the face and call him a fag, or something. He can’t handle a sweet, gentle, let’s stay friends forever, it’ll all be okay rejection.

Instead of the bright snap of pain he’s hoping for, he feels Steve’s hands slide up the sides of his neck, almost like he does when Eddie’s down on his knees for him. It’s much softer, now, Steve’s thumbs stroking just under his eyes to wipe away the tears that he can’t stop from falling.

It’s too much.

Eddie squeezes his eyes shut tight, shaking his head in frantic, jerky movements as his tears just keep coming. He wants to yell at Steve, to tell him to leave and let him lick his wounds in fucking peace, but he can’t make the words come out. All he can do is suck in another sticky, wet breath.

It tears out of his chest as a sob and Steve swears under his breath.

“Hey,” he breathes. He moves Eddie’s hair out of his face gently, tucking it behind his ears. Any traces of anger are gone from his voice now, and it’s soft, quiet, like he's talking to a frightened animal. “Eddie, hey. Shit, I’m sorry. Can you look at me?”

Eddie doesn’t want to, but he’s never been good at saying no to Steve. He forces his eyes open, blinking away the tears that blur Steve’s pretty face.

“If you’re gonna reject me just do it,” he says miserably. His voice feels thick as it comes up his throat. “I can take it, man.”

Actually, he’s pretty sure he’ll collapse to the ground sobbing and maybe even dry heave or throw up the second he’s alone, but Steve doesn’t have to know that.

“I’m not—” Steve huffs out a breath, something like a laugh, like he can’t believe what he’s hearing. “Eddie, I’m not rejecting you. I’m—I’m just kind of in shock.”

Eddie stares at Steve with watery eyes. “In shock?” he bites out. “Yeah, dude, that kinda happens when your friend confesses he has big disgusting gay feelings for you.”

“No! Not like—not in a bad way,” Steve clarifies. He has the most adorable pink flush on his cheeks, a frustrated little crease between his brows as he tries to find the words for what he’s so clearly hurting to say. “I’ve been into you for months. I honestly thought you were avoiding me these past few weeks ‘cause you could tell. I’m not, like,” he heaves a sigh, runs a nervous hand through his hair, “good at being subtle, man. I thought you were rejecting me.”

Eddie has no clue what kind of face he’s making right now, but he feels a little bit like he’s floating suddenly. Like he’s just missed the last step at the bottom of a staircase, a heavy, stony pang in his chest, his breath kind of stuck somewhere around his diaphragm. It’s almost like how it felt to flip upside down, weightless, as he climbed through the gate last spring, but only slightly less terrifying.

“I haven’t been with anyone else since the first time we hooked up,” Steve admits, and Eddie's mouth falls open, because that was nearly a year ago. “I know we were supposed to be casual, but it… was never casual for me.” His face is a little redder now, but he doesn't break eye contact. It makes Eddie want to squirm. “I shouldn’t have lied and said I didn’t want more. I wanted you. When we—” He swallows and Eddie can't help but glance down to watch the way his throat bobs, wants to sink his teeth into it. "When we’re together, you know, it’s… it’s all I ever think about. Fuck, I think about you all the time. I feel like I'm going insane.” He groans, letting his forehead fall forward onto Eddie’s shoulder. “I feel like I’m not doing a great job here.”

Steve thinks about him. Steve fucking wants him. Eddie is literally going to pass out or something.

“No,” he breathes, because this can’t be real, he has to be hallucinating or something, “no, you’re—this is really good. Keep going.”

Steve sighs like he’s frustrated with himself, his breath warm against Eddie’s shirt. “What I’m trying to say is that I like you too, Eddie. A lot. I'm sorry if I made you feel like I didn’t, I’m just—kind of not great at this shit.”

Eddie really, really wants to pinch himself, but he can’t fucking move as Steve’s words sink into his bones.

“You like me,” he croaks out. His hands curl into fists in the front of Steve’s shirt. He probably looks a fucking mess right now with tears and maybe snot all over his face but he can’t think about that, not when Steve is so close. “You actually like me? Like, not—not just fucking me?”

“I mean, I do like doing that,” Steve says, lifting his head with a ridiculous grin and eyebrow waggle that makes Eddie feel hot all over. He groans and shoves Steve’s face away half-heartedly, and Steve laughs, turns his head to press a kiss to Eddie’s palm.

Eddie just about melts into a puddle on the floor. God, the Steve Harrington charm. Steve’s smile turns a little soft.

“But yeah,” he says, leaning into Eddie’s hand. “I’m kinda crazy about you, man.”

Eddie needs to make sure he's not insane. "Like, you wanna cuddle me and shit? Fuckin’… bake me a cake?”

Oh god, what do people in relationships even do? Is that even what Steve’s gunning for here?

Steve's clearly trying not to laugh. "I mean, I can make you a cake if you want, but I'm not that great at baking. I always put too much flour and it turns out so bad, and this one time I accidentally put salt instead of sugar and Robin still doesn't shut up about it. I can make a pretty solid lasagna, though, if you want—”

"Oh my god," Eddie says, because he's definitely insane, and also because the idea of Steve in the kitchen making him a lasagna like some kind of little housewife is going to make him act fucking stupid, "shut up."

He really does pinch himself, then, and all it does is hurt. Steve’s lips quirk up again, and he steps a little closer, until it would be so easy for Eddie to tilt his head a bit and move in for a kiss. He goes a little cross-eyed trying to keep looking at Steve, trying to make sure this is still real, that this isn’t some Vecna shit and Steve’s about to turn into some kind of fucked up monster and start, like, eating him or something.

“Did you just pinch yourself?” Steve asks, grinning so wide Eddie can almost taste it.

“No,” Eddie lies.

“That’s so cute."

Eddie makes a weird, strangled sound, and it’s the most humiliating little noise, one he didn’t even know he was capable of making. He doesn’t have a chance to be embarrassed about it, though, because Steve moves so their lips are just barely apart.

“Can I kiss you now? I really want to.” Their noses touch. “I know it’s not the first time, but… I wanna kiss you.”

“Like in a gay way?” Eddie blurts, like an idiot.

Steve’s eyes crinkle up a bit when he laughs. “Yeah, dude. In a gay way. I mean, I kinda feel like me licking my jizz out of your mouth that one time was already pretty gay, but yeah. I wanna kiss you for real. If that’s okay.”

#steddie #teehee #posting this then LOGGING OFF BC I AM SCARED OF EVERYONE #desperately craving attention while being so so so scared of you all

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appocalipse · 4 months

Text

MAKE IT EASY (part 2) : ̗̀➛ STEVE HARRINGTON

・❥・part 1・part 2・❥・3k words

Summary: steve asks you to pretend to be his girlfriend for a family dinner. the problem is: after all is said and done, he gives you the cold shoulder. have you done something wrong?

Steve has a problem.

No, scratch that. He created a problem for himself, actually, about a week ago. A big, confusing problem that he now has no idea how to solve, so naturally what he's doing is plan B, which is the next best thing: avoiding the problem until it somehow resolves itself.

You are Steve Harrington's problem.

You, with your disarming smile, your gratuitous kindness and your impossible-to-forget laugh. You had made his parents like you, for God's sake. If that's not proof enough that you have some kind of magic working behind your smile, Steve doesn't know what is.

Oh! And of course, there is that damn dress.

Steve lowers his head until his forehead rests on the counter and sighs. Ah, that dress. Steve probably shouldn't think about it, let alone what was beneath it, the warm skin he touched for just a few seconds…no. He shouldn't think about it if he wanted to keep his sanity intact. But apparently, he likes to torture himself.

Steve stays in this awkward position for all of five dramatic seconds until his spine hurts. He straightens up again, with another sigh.

"You should talk to her."

It's Robin (of course) giving her opinion (that no one asked, Steve thinks bitterly) as she walks past him with a stack of tapes in her hands.

"I should never talk to her again. In fact," he argues, speaking a little louder so Robin can hear him from the back of the store, "if you're really my friend, you should make sure that I don't talk to her for the rest of my life."

"Coward."

"Maybe I am."

Even from this distance, Steve is under the impression that he hears Robin sighing.

She walks so fast that he doesn't even register the sound of her footsteps until Robin is in front of him, on the other side of Family Video's front counter, looking at him the way a mother would look at a child throwing a tantrum.

"You are going to talk to her," says Robin, with the certainty of someone who says the sky is blue.

"No."

She smiles. Steve is certain he recognizes that smile. It's the one that scares him, the same that precedes the moment when Dustin or one of the other kids says something like "just trust me, I have an idea", and the idea usually involves a robbery, a murder or interdimensional travel. Sometimes, all three of them.

"Robin-"

She has her backpack on her back.

"End of my shift," Robin hums, suspiciously happy. She takes a step back which, Steve thinks, is quite prudent considering what she says next, "…which means, my dear Steve, that you are obligated to serve our customers. Any customer. Even if you don't want to speak to this specific customer, you'll have to-"

Steve leans over the counter — to do what exactly, he's not sure; strangle her, perhaps — but Robin, as always, is faster. She laughs, and before he can do anything other than practically beg her to stay, Robin is out the front door yelling I'm sorry! over her shoulder, even though Steve knows she's not sorry at all.

Less than ten minutes later, the bell above the door rings again, and Steve wouldn't even have to look to know it's you.

You enter the store and your steps are quick, hurried, a clear goal in your mind.

You stop in front of Steve, almost exactly where Robin had stood a few minutes ago, but the look in your eyes is completely different for more reasons than one.

Steve swallows hard. You had been here two other times this week, and both times Steve managed to somehow force Robin to distract you, acting as if he was too busy to see you. You had clearly decided to talk to her behind his back, because all this had definitely been an elaborate plan between the two of you so that Steve couldn't get away.

You get to the point, crossing your arms. "You are avoiding me."

You're not asking; you're telling him. You know. You noticed.

Well, of course you did. You're smart. Smarter than him for sure.

Steve can only hope you haven't found out about the reason why he's avoiding you these past few days. That would be hard to explain.

He clears his throat. It's like he's trying to breathe with a couple of birds inside his ribcage.

"I'm not avoiding you," he says, but he looks away so quickly he doubts you believe him. "I've just got a lot going on lately…" he trails off, racking his brain for an excuse that would make sense without revealing too much.

It isn't fair — you're the last person he wants to hurt, and yet it took some elaborate plan between you and Robin to get him to stand in front of you again.

Pathetic.

You don't seem impressed. In fact, you laugh before he's even finished speaking, but it's not your usual light, happy laugh; It's a low, wry chuckle that makes Steve feel instantly irritated, even though he knows he probably doesn't even have that right after everything.

He knows he hurt you. He knows. He never wanted that. But you…you have no idea how torturous that night, that dinner had been for him. So yes; he does get a little angry.

"You've got nothing new going on lately!" you retort, growing angry yourself. "You just- I don't know. Have I…done something wrong? Did I make your parents mad that night or something? Because all of a sudden-"

"No!" he snaps, the word coming out harsher than he intended, and definitely louder. His cheeks flush with anger, and then embarrassment, and suddenly Steve desperately wants to crawl into a hole somewhere.

He clears his throat.

"No, you didn't do anything wrong," he repeats, softer this time. "It's just…it's complicated."

"It's complicated?" you ask, and now you're all but yelling too. Great. "That's your excuse for flat out ignoring me for the past week?"

"I'm not ignoring you!" he protests, his voice a bit higher than usual.

The truth is: he has been avoiding you. Every time he sees you, he feels this strange pull towards you - a mix of attraction and annoyance that he can't quite figure out. And every time he talks to you, he worries that maybe he'll say too much, or worse yet, say nothing at all and you, with your annoyingly sharp mind, will read him like a book.

As if that wasn't enough, Steve thinks, tormented, you decide to walk around the counter to literally stand in front of him, nothing else between the two of you besides a couple of steps.

This proximity feels like a trap. Steve takes another step back and his hipbone hits the counter. Dear God.

"Yes, you are!" you argue, crossing your arms and taking a step forward almost without realizing it. "You asked me to pretend to be your girlfriend for one night so that your parents would leave you alone, and I did. I thought it was okay. But then you pretty much ran out of my house afterwards and refused all my attempts to talk to you ever since."

You sigh. You lift your chin and look up at him, and, alarmed, Steve notices that your eyes are a little red, as if you're holding yourself back from crying.

He's making you cry?

Shit. The last thing he wants in the world is to make you cry.

"Tell me what I did wrong," you say, and the sudden softness of your voice catches Steve off-guard. "You owe me at least that, don't you? If seeing me is such a problem for you, just..tell me what I did wrong and I'll leave you alone. I'll go…clearly that's what you want."

"No, that's not what I want," he says quickly, stepping closer to you before his mind can catch up on his intentions. "Look, I'm sorry. I just…I don't know how to handle this."

He runs a hand through his tousled hair, and you probably notice the desperation in his tone, because you just stand there, looking at him. Waiting, he realizes. You don't move.

Then you ask, sounding so innocently confused that Steve almost feels like screaming:

"How to handle…what?"

It's not possible, he thinks. There's no way you didn't notice. You would have to be blind, deaf and…well, maybe not even then. Steve had thought things had gotten pretty clear the week before, at your place, when you had asked him to unzip your damn dress and he had gotten so carried away he almost kissed you and…

Well.

"You," he answers immediately, looking you square in the eye with all the genuine honesty he still has the capacity for. "I don't know how to handle the fact that I…" Steve swallows.

"That you..?" you encourage, taking a tentative step closer.

"Do you really want to know?" he asks, not moving an inch.

"Yes."

Steve's heart skips a beat, a beat that could very well be his last. "Look-"

"Tell me."

"I think you already know."

"I don't."

"Oh, come on," Steve says, his voice cracking as he lets out a humourless chuckle. "You can't tell me you didn't notice the way I looked at you last week. I mean, Jesus, I asked you to pretend to be my girlfriend for dinner with my parents, and then I almost…"

He trails off.

And there it is; that funny feeling inside your chest, that warmth you can't even begin to explain.

"You almost what?"

He chuckles again. "Why do you think I left like that?"

"I honestly have no fucking idea, Steve."

"You asked me to unzip your dress."

"And?"

Steve looks at you like you'd just grown an extra limb.

"You can't be serious."

"Okay, fine, I'm sorry I asked you to do that, but I didn't mean to make you, uh…uncomfortable. You could have said no if-"

"That's not it." Steve cuts you off, frustrated because God help him, you don't get it. You still, somehow, don't get it. He doesn't know whether to laugh or to cry.

So what he does instead is turn around, placing his hands on the counter, his back turned to you so that he can think clearly for a moment without being distracted by the way you're looking at him.

But you…oh, you never let things go, do you?

"What is it then, Steve, huh?" you ask, shortening the distance between the two of you by half. You know the answer, or at least a part of you does. But the other part, the part that's stubborn and insecure and tired…wants to hear him say it. Needs to hear him say it. "What is it? Because it feels like you just want to hurt me. You asked me to pretend to be your girlfriend for one night, but it didn't feel like we were…"

Pretending. Is that what you were going to say?

You stop speaking abruptly, eyes wide as if the words had come out of your mouth on their own. Judging by how angry you sounded, Steve thinks that's exactly what happened.

"Then you just…decided to ignore me."

For one moment, the only thing between you two is the silence.

"I didn't do that to hurt you," his voice is a whisper.

"Then what the fuck were you trying to do, Steve?"

"Get over you!"

"I...what?"

It feels like you're taunting him at this point.

"What, not what you expected?" He says, voice tight as he turns around to face you again, a bitter laugh trapped inside his throat. "C'mon, are you that oblivious?"

He's getting closer to you as he speaks now, voice growing more intense, more desperate; but you don't back away, he notices. You don't move, don't push him away. All you do is look up at him with those pretty eyes of yours, waiting, searching for something in his expression.

"I-I fucked up, okay? I told you it was just play pretend but the truth is…I didn't have to pretend one bit," he confesses, eyes finding yours, and immediately that anger — or whatever it was — dissipates, his tone softening as a small smile tugs at the corners of his lips. "I should have known that having you for one night, even if it was just pretend, would just make it that much worse. That's why I tried to avoid you. To get over you…and clearly that didn't work."

There's so much you want to say that you feel like you're choking on your own words. "I don't- you, I mean-"

"No, it's alright, just…" He looks down at the ground, then steps back again with a small, empty chuckle. "Go ahead and reject me. Make it easy for me."

"I-what? Reject you?" If a demogorgon suddenly showed up and swallowed your left leg whole, you're pretty sure you would have been less taken aback.

"I know it's not what you want to hear. It's not how I wanted things to go either. But I'm trying to be honest here," he says, taking another step back, feeling more and more exposed with every stupid word that comes out of his mouth. "I care about you. And I know that if I don't get over this, it's going to ruin everything. So, please, just-"

"Oh my God, you are so stupid!"

Your tone of voice changed completely. Steve lifts his head to look at you, and to his complete and utter confusion, you're laughing.

Laughing.

For a terrible moment, the thought that you're laughing at him crosses his mind, but then…

You hug him. You hug him so tightly, in fact, that Steve is pushed back a step or two, and suddenly he's pressed up against the counter once again.

“You didn’t kiss me,” you murmur, your arms wrapped tightly around his waist, your cheek pressed against his chest.

He takes a deep breath, inhaling the scent of your hair and feeling the soft cotton of your shirt under his fingers. He can feel the warmth of your body against his. It's almost painful, how good it feels to be this close to you.

He wonders if he heard it wrong.

No — he certainly heard it wrong. He's hallucinating. Must be.

"Wait, I…what?"

You don't move an inch, but Steve feels as you take a deep breath against his shirt. He wishes he could see your face.

"That night," you explain, finally looking up at him. You look more flustered than he's ever seen you. Closing one of your hands into a fist, you hit Steve's chest without any real force. "I thought you were going to kiss me, but then you just ran off without saying anything. How was I supposed to guess that you actually liked me, Steve Harrington?"

He almost chuckles. Steve feels like his heart is in his throat, he can't believe what he's hearing. You like him? You, the girl he's been crushing on for what feels like forever, actually like him?

It's too much to process. He tries to form a response, but all that comes out is a strangled sound that's somewhere between a laugh and a sob.

So instead of trying to use any stupid words, he reaches out and cups your face in his hands, feeling the warmth of your skin against his. He leans down slowly, his heart pounding in his chest, and finally, finally, when you don't move away…he brushes his lips against yours.

It's just a soft, tentative touch, but it's enough to make him forget about everything else.

Steve pulls back then, waiting for you to pull away, to tell him no…but you don't. You close your eyes and lean into him, opening your mouth a little more against his, inviting him in. He takes the invitation, pressing his lips against yours again, more firmly this time, feeling your soft, warm tongue slide against his. He presses harder, deepening the kiss, feeling your hands curl into his shirt as he pulls you even closer.

You feel dizzy, light-headed, and utterly, perfectly lost in this moment.

Your hands cling to his shoulders, fingers digging into the muscles there as you, too, attempt to pull him closer, as close as possible…and then, the bell above the front door rings, announcing that someone just entered the store.

Fuck.

Steve groans as you pull back immediately.

It's just a customer, an older man with a newspaper under his arm, looking around curiously. Steve knows it's not his fault, but he doesn't think he's ever hated anyone quite so strongly.

He looks down at you and it's a mistake; you look so beautiful with your cheeks flushed, lips swollen from the kiss, a soft, embarrassed smile on your mouth. Steve doesn't know what to say, he's not even sure he knows how to find his voice right now, so one of his hands finds its way up to cup your cheek again, fingers curling gently while the man walks around the store looking for God knows what.

Steve feels like he's on cloud nine. He wants nothing more than to lose himself in you again, and to hell with Family Video's customers. But you, on the other hand…

You grin. "You should probably-"

"Don't go anywhere," Steve tells you with a grin of his own. "I'll be right back."

Apparently, he wasn't aware that he wouldn't be able to get rid of you if he tried.

tags (i hope i haven't forgotten anyone, sorry!): @siriuslysmoking @sebastiansstanswhore @sorchateas @boomitsallie1 @vivzzi @mel119g @skrzydlak

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#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington x you #steve harrington oneshot #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington angst #steve x you #steve x reader #stranger things fanfic #stranger things imagine #steve harrington drabble

931 notes · View notes

purplekissinger · 3 months

Text

I am the pretty thing that lives in the castle

And I pray one prayer - I repeat it till my tongue stiffens - Catherine Earnshaw, may you not rest as long as I am living; you said I killed you - haunt me, then! Emily Bronte, ‘Wuthering Heights’.

Y/N became a ghost instead of Myrtle. She couldn't care less about Tom. He wishes he could say the same. Wordcount: 3k.

At their first meeting, Tom even shrieked a little (as he later justified, solely because Y/N took him by surprise). He crept towards the sinks that bathed in the bluish light of the moon, and did not at all expect that someone would jump at him from the ceiling with a “Boo!”

“Boo,” Y/N said reluctantly and passed through him like a light bluish cloud. Tom closed his eyes, but didn’t feel anything.

“Good evening to you too,” he said, looking at her cautiously. Y/N floated up to the ceiling and was now studying the stucco, running her ghostly finger absentmindedly over the frozen gargoyle masks. “What's new?”

“As you may guess, absolutely nothing,” Y/N responded, “but I like that you’re trying to be polite. It's nice.”

“Do you feel ‘nice’?”

“Not really. I'm using words that I learned in life, but they don't quite describe my experience because I've never experienced anything like this before. I'd rather you be polite than rude, and that's my new “nice.”

Tom looked at her, a luminous spot against the black wall, which trembled slightly, like the wings of a strange butterfly. Y/N died wearing a thin shirt, but there was no longer any way she could be cold or get sick.

“If I didn’t know you were a Ravenclaw, I would have guessed by now,” he said.

“I was different when I was alive,” Y/N said judiciously. “More lively”

“You sure were”.

“No, I mean it. I can't explain it enough for you to understand, but this experience is...changing. Everything becomes so transparent, unreal. If I were the same, I would have already cried barrels of tears and flooded the toilet”.

“There is someone who is eager to do that for you,” Tom said gloomily. “Myrtle has been whining all day long, telling everyone what a wonderful friend you were.”

“Me?” Y/N sounded surprised. “I can’t remember that we were friends. However, I did stand up for her a couple of times…”

Tom kept silent a little longer, angrily tapping his fingers on the broken edge of the sink. When falling, already dead, Y/N hit her head here. They didn't fix the sink, instead, they put a lock on the toilet door, but Tom sneaked in almost every evening.

“Is that why you’re not angry at me for killing you?” he finally asked.

“Well, technically you didn’t kill me. You just released a basilisk, which also didn't do anything against its nature, so it's kind of like an accident. Although I can understand why you didn’t tell anyone about it all,” Y/N said. “No, that’s not the reason why”.

“You are very understanding,” said Tom. “Is it okay if I stay here a little longer? I need to prepare an essay on the history of magic, and tomorrow is the final match between the badgers and Slytherin. All of Hogwarts is shaking”.

“Make yourself at home,” Y/N said indifferently.

She went down to the Chamber of Secrets with him when the time came to seal it. Hovering silently two steps behind him, she looked at the tunnels and rusty gratings that were many, many centuries old, and for the first time something like curiosity was reflected on her transparent face. For some reason this made Tom feel almost happy. Y/N’s curiosity became almost human when, rustling its scales, a huge snake slowly crawled out of the black hole in the wall and surrounded them with a ring, and put its terrible head so as to get a better look at the guests, and hissed in greeting.

“I've read that those who speak Parseltongue can look a basilisk in the eyes and survive,” said Tom, looking down, “but I don’t want to test that.”

Y/N looked fearlessly with her dead eyes straight into the face of the creature.

“Yes, the cost of a mistake would be very high,” she said. “What is your pet's name?”

“Susie,” Tom said quietly. “It's a girl”.

Y/N smiled weakly.

“Hello, Susie,” she said. Susie let out a squeal that sounded more like a laugh. “Nice to meet you. Unfortunately, this is not for long, because we have come to seal the Chamber of Secrets forever.”

“For a while,” Tom corrected her. “Susie, I'll be back, I promise. I don't know when, but I'll be back”.

He closed his eyes and stretched his hands forward. The basilisk poked its terrible mouth into his chest, and Tom hugged her.

***

When Tom returned to school the next year, no one noticed anything, and he even began to think that the ritual did not work, but as soon as he crossed the threshold of the toilet on the third floor, a quiet exclamation was heard from under the ceiling:

“Oh! Tom, what happened to you?”

Like a feather or a petal, Y/N slowly descended towards him. Tom looked at her and thought that flying suited her well.

“Is it that noticeable?” he asked suspiciously.

“You have become very small,” Y/N said, flying around him. “Like this,” and made a small circle with her hands. “Where did half of you go?”.

This is how he learned that ghosts see the effects of Horcruxes.

“I won’t tell anyone,” she promised. “Who was it?”

And Tom told her. About everything, about how he found out who the Gaunts were, about how he found his uncle, about the Riddles, about how scary it was to look at his father’s corpse, because he was so very alike him, about how he made a Horcrux right there while the bodies were still warm. It was easy for him, he wanted to talk, to free himself from every detail, take it out of his head, let Y/N look, discuss, judge.

She was in no hurry to judge. She just said:

“This could backfire on you.”

“How?” Tom suddenly felt offended. He just now realized that he would like her to admire what a cool magician he is, and maybe even clap her hands.

“I know more than you,” she said vaguely. “Not everything, perhaps, but more. Yes, I’m still on the threshold, but from where I’m standing, it’s clear that you acted very rashly.”

“What do you mean by ‘still’?"

She didn't answer.

All autumn, winter and summer he went to visit Y/N, even leaving textbooks in a niche by the window. It was quiet and somehow very cozy there, the light from the window was so gentle, and on sunny days the stained glass windows seemed to light up with colored lights. Y/N was silent for the most part, but seeing her figure out of the corner of his eye and hearing her thoughtful humming under her breath was... nice. This was his new “nice”, because something inside of him began to change inexplicably, irreversibly and horribly.

In winter, he asked her to come to the Yule Ball, and she agreed, and she blew out all the candles and ruined the chandelier. Oh, the chaos!.. And in the spring they celebrated Y/N’s first Deathday Party. For this occasion Tom stole a lemon pie from the kitchen, but Y/N politely thanked him and said that she couldn’t eat that. She fluttered back and forth, he chewed on the pie, they argued about the technique of using Fiendfyre, and it was a nice evening.

“I won’t come back here in the fall,” Tom said suddenly, because in fact that’s all he’s been thinking about for the last few days.

“I know,” Y/N said. “You are in seventh year. I can count to seven”.

“But I’ll come back someday,” he said stubbornly. “I just don’t know when”.

“I think I’ve already heard this once”.

“I’ll come back for Susie too, don’t you worry.”

“And what will we do then, riddle me this?”

“Seize the Ministry of Magic,” he blurted out. “Y/N, I'll miss you. Will you miss me?”

“I would like to tell you something nice in response, but I’ll tell the truth. Maybe I won't be here soon.”

He suddenly felt very hot. Then terribly cold.

“What do you mean you won’t be here? Where are you going to go?” Tom asked in an unnaturally high voice. “Aren’t you here forever?”

“Not really,” Y/N answered evasively. “You see, when I died, I was not at all ready for this”.

“Can anyone possibly be ready for this?”

“You must be ready, Tom. Now I know that. I was confused and made... the wrong choice. Stuck on the threshold. Didn't go any further. But I can step forward at any moment, I just need to think it over carefully and make a decision”.

“Can’t you step back?” Tom asked. He did not put hope into these words, but it sounded nevertheless.

“No,” Y/N answered simply. “I died, Tom”.

He rested his hand on his cheek and watched her spin, arms outstretched, right up to the ceiling, the invisible wind blowing her hair. He said:

“I regret that I didn’t know you when you were alive. I think we could become friends.”

“We could,” Y/N agreed. “But for this to happen you shouldn’t have killed me”.

Tom jumped up sharply and, his burning face hid in his hands, quickly walked out of the room. The door slammed so loudly that the noise echoed throughout the entire corridor.

***

Tom did not soon cross this threshold again.

He walked from Dumbledore's office after the first unsuccessful job interview in his life, he wanted to get out of the castle as quickly as possible so as not to endure this humiliation anymore, but his feet themselves led him to the third floor.

“You have become even smaller,” said a familiar voice, which he had only dreamed about in the morning. Loud, distant, but somehow comforting. “You're barely visible”.

Tom was silent. He looked and still did not believe that he was seeing her again. Finally he grinned and stepped forward.

“But you’re still the same,” he said.

“The same, but not quite,” Y/N objected, going down to meet him. “I thought a lot and almost decided to take a step further”.

“But not yet?”

“Not yet. This is a complex process, and it doesn't get any easier now that I have all the time in the world”.

“What exactly are you doing?” Tom asked, leaning against the wall. A forgotten feeling of comfort covered him in a cool wave. He felt like he wanted to stay.

“I’m thinking,” Y/N said. “A lot”.

“Don’t you need to, I don’t know, take revenge on your murderer?” he asked and realized that it sounded like a request. Lord Voldemort had a lot of requests that day.

“No, thanks,” said Y/N. She looked him up and down with a curious look and added: “It seems to me that there’s not much left of him anyway.”

Tom tiredly sank to the floor and tucked his legs under him. He wanted to talk to her again and again, so that she would answer sharply, but always to the point. He wanted her to scream at him, to rush to claw his eyes out, he wanted her to thirst for revenge.

“I sometimes saw you in my dreams,” he said. “Like we’re friends or something.”

“I have nothing to do with this,” Y/N said. “Have you made any living friends over the years?”

“Wait for me,” Lord Voldemort said without listening to her. He wanted it to sound like an order, but it turned out to be the third request. “Y/N, I figured out how to defeat death.”

“Sure you did”.

“I am not lying. I really fought it all this time and almost won”.

“I wish you would know how stupid you look now.”

“Are you going to listen or not?! I tell you, wait, I will bring you back, I will fix everything, you will be alive again, I will get you out…”

“Promise?”

“Yes, yes!”

“Lord Voldemort's promise?”

She smiled. Unable to look at her, Tom stormed out.

***

The third time he returned to the castle was on May 2, 1998. He walked along the empty corridors of the third floor, and his steps echoed loudly. He was going to congratulate Y/N on her yet another Deathday. In his hands was not a lemon pie, but an Elder Wand.

The door to the girls' toilet was blown off its hinges by the explosion. He crossed the threshold and saw that the stained glass windows were broken, and golden dawn rays were pouring into the room. For a second it seemed to him that the place was empty, that he was late.

“Oh, Merlin!” a familiar laugh rang out. “What's happened to you, Tom? You have become so very small, smaller than a mouse!”

She came down from the ceiling as before, but for the first time he saw her in the pink rays of the sun, and she seemed almost alive. For the first time he saw her almost alive.

“Come with me, Y/N”, he said softly. His hand trembled a little, grasping his wand. “I will bring you back to life. I will give you back everything and even more. Soon I will have the Resurrection Stone, and you will live again”.

She laughed even louder, twirled as if in a dance, and he felt uneasy.

“Stupid, stupid Tom,” Y/N said. “Still don’t get this, do you? Everyone gets smarter over the years, but you seem to only get dumber”.

And no Avada Kedavra could shut her up.

“But I'm glad you came. Really, I am. I wanted to say goodbye to you, Tom. I'm finally making that step”.

“No,” Lord Voldemort said in a changed voice. “Don’t. Don’t you dare”.

“Or else what?”

“Don't do this”, when was the last time he begged for something, pleaded? Was it with her?! “Stay. Stay, Y/N. I told you, I'll bring you back!”

“You forgot the magic word”. Y/N giggled. She sank to the floor and looked at him cheerfully and seriously at the same time. “I feel sorry for you, Tom”.

He had heard it once before, but coming from her it sounded and felt like “Crucio.”

“I have to go, really. There's no time to chat. I’ll tell you one more thing. Soon you will be offered a choice one last time, so please, please, don’t be stubborn. Can you do this for me?”

Tom looked at her desperately, afraid to blink, and still missed the moment when Y/N melted into the air.

***

The empty platform shines white, as if it were covered with snow. There are no trains here. No people, too. The bench blackens on the platform like a wound. A faint whimper came from under the bench.

A girl is walking along the platform.

She is wearing a thin shirt, but there is no way that she could be cold. The blue tie is fluttering in the invisible wind. She hurries to the bench, bends down, carefully takes out the bundle of robes from there, and opens it, and smiles a little and carefully presses it to her chest.

#harry potter #tom riddle #tom riddle x y/n #tom riddle x reader #voldemort x y/n #voldemort x reader

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aerynwrites · 7 months

Text

Masquerade of Liars

Dad!Gale x Fem!Reader

A/N: Had to do a little something for Halloween! So i found out Faerun has their own kind of Halloween called Liars Night or Masquerade of Liars. Here’s a link if you want to read more about it, it’s actually super cool! But I also just wanted to write some soft Dad!Gale after so many of you seemed to enjoy that one shot of him finding out reader was pregnant. So hope y’all enjoy!

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: reader is referred to as mother/mum.

*not beta read, sorry for any grammatical errors*

The smell of sulfur fills your nose as you strike a match to light the small wax candles before you. You light the wicks before shaking the match to douse the flame, and grabbing one of the lit candles.

“Cassias!” You call, moving to place the light source inside of your son’s pumpkin. “Are you almost ready? We need to go. Gale-!”

Your husband materializes just as you call his name, his lips against your own cutting off your words. You sigh when you pull away, smiling despite yourself as you place the last two candles in the remaining pumpkins.

“Did you help Cas with his costume?” You ask, looking over the carved orange spheres before you, making sure they look alright before you put them outside.

Gale lets out a quiet laugh as he shrugs his shoulders, “I tried, but he could not be swayed to accept my assistance. He wanted to do it himself.”

You can’t help but roll your eyes playfully, “He is definitely your son - stubborn.”

Gale lets out a small scoff, as he steps forward to wrap his arms around your waist. “Me? Stubborn? I think he gets that from you, my love.”

You let out a low hum, as you reach up to straighten the collar of his robe, “I suppose he gets it from the both of us.”

Gale smiles. “That’s better,” he says, before leaning in to kiss you again.

You relish in the somewhat quiet moment in your lover’s arms, knowing that the rest of the night will be full of excitement and noise.

The approaching thunder of footsteps coming down the stone steps of the tower make you separate from one another, but not before you press one last kiss to his cheek.

“I’m coming!” You son calls as he barrels down the stairs, nearly tripping over the tail of his costume as he hits the floor.

You instinctively reach out for him, but he’s righted himself before you can help, and you’re unable to stifle the grin that splits your lips as you take in the costume Cassian wears.

He insisted on being a dragon. A red dragon specifically. And it had to have horns, and giant wings.

And well…who were you to deny him?

His mask looked like that of a red dragon, tall pointed black horns rising from the top of it, even pointy teeth peeking out of the creature's mouth. The rest of his costume was just as elaborate, you and Cassian having worked on it for weeks leading up to the Masquerade of Liars. His shirt and pants are lined with hundreds of small metal scales that glint in the candle light. He even has a tale pinned to his pants, which may prove to be more of a hindrance now that you see it dragging the ground.

Even Gale helped with the costume, adding his own magical flare in the form of gentle smoke coming from the mask's mouth as if Cassian could breathe fire.

“Look, father look!” Cassian jumps around in his costume, the scales tinkling softly as he does so and reflecting a beautiful dappled light pattern all through the kitchen.

Gale ‘ooo’s’ and ‘ah’s’ at his son’s costume before picking the child up and smiling at the giggles that pour out from behind the mask.

“You’re just as fearsome as the legendary Ansur of Baldur’s Gate,” Gale tells him seriously before reaching up to tilt the mask up to the top of Cassian's head, revealing his face to you both.

Cassian is basically a spitting image of Gale. Warm brown eyes and dark hair. Gale insists he got your nose though, and your smile, which you’re happy about if not a little begrudging. You carried him for nine months! The least the gods could have done is given him your eyes…

But you wouldn’t change a thing, not really. Cassian has turned into a wonderful child, all chubby cheeks and laughter and kindness. Even now you watch in silent admiration as Cassian talks animatedly with his father. Despite being only six his vocabulary is as big as Gales.

“Are you ready for a night of trickery and lies?” Gale asks, voice dropping to a playfully low octave.

Cassian nods, eyes lighting up. “And candy!”

Glae laughs, moving to set Cassian back on his feet. “And candy of course. Do you have room in your pockets?”

Cassian nods fervently, face serious as he pats both pockets on his costume. “I even have candy in my other pocket so no one steals our coin.”

You stifle a laugh at the seriousness with which Cassian takes the holiday.

Liars night, though now more commonly known as the Masquerade of Liars is a night to pay tribute to the dirties Leira and Mask. While it started centuries ago as a more serious holiday it’s evolved into more of a fun tradition to celebrate the gods.

The particular tradition Cassian is referring to is pickpocketing. It used to be so common back when the holiday was first created that people started keeping candy in their pockets instead of coins - this soon evolved into people taking the candy and leaving behind trinkets or a small note in return.

Now most people just give the candy out, especially to children. But the occasional trinket still makes it into a pocket here or there - and you aren’t about to ruin his fun.

“Very good, Cas!” You praise, turning to face the carved pumpkins once more. “We should be ready to go once we put the pumpkins on the doorstep. Do you want to carry yours?”

“Yes, yes! Can I?” He reaches his hands up expectantly, and you smile, looking over at Gale.

“What do you think, my love?”

Gale nods, a smile matching your own on his face as he takes Cassian’s pumpkins from the counter. “I think a dragon as fearsome as Cassian can carry his own pumpkin to the stoop this year.”

Cassian cheers and takes the pumpkin carefully in his arms, Gale keeping a watchful eye until he’s sure he has a secure hold on it.

You take your pumpkins and Gale takes his as you all move to the front door of the tower, moving slowly to keep the candles lit.

“Be careful Cas,” you say, following close behind. “You don’t want the candle to blow out, remember?”

“I remember, mum,” he says, “It’s bad luck.”

You nod as Gale reaches out with one hand to open the door for all of you, the cool night air kissing your skin. “That’s right.”

You watch as Cassian moves to set his pumpkin at the top of the stairs right next to the door, turning it this way and that until he’s happy with the placement. You and Gale place yours nearby before locking the door and taking Cassian’s hands in your own.

Once at the bottom of the stairs, you all turn to look at the small display, the candles flickering gently in the night. Cassian hops impatiently between you and your husband, his little hands squeezing yours tightly.

“Can we go?” He asks, excitement bleeding into his words.

You chuckle and nod. “Of course. We wouldn’t want to miss the festivities.”

The three of you walk from your home towards Waterdeeps town square. While the night is celebrated throughout the city, most people gather in the square. Vendors set up to sell food or other festive items and children run around trying to collect as much candy as they can in one night. Even the adults partake in the costumes and activities. You and Gale have dressed up in the past, but this year you decided to forgo a disguise.

Cassian chats animatedly as you make your way down the quiet streets, the sounds of celebration getting louder the closer you get to the center of Waterdeep. His steps get more impatient until eventually, both you and Gale are stumbling to keep up with the energetic child as you finally reach your destination.

The square is decorated for the holiday, lanterns hanging all around, and some even floating in the air thanks to some other magic wielders. Autumnal colored banners and draping shirt line the various vendor stalls and the fountain at the center, and lively music fills the square as well.

Cassian breaks away from you and Gale when he spots one of his friends, a little tiefling boy named Allon who looks to be dressed as an owlbear.

Gale laughs as you both follow him, watching as he embraces his friend before gesturing excitedly at their costumes. “I don’t understand where all that energy comes from - it surely doesn’t come from me.”

You let out a chuckle of your own as you stand a few paces back to let Cassian talk to his friend. “That’s just how children are, I’m afraid. But it dies down. Eventually.”

Gale just hums quietly in response, watching your son with adoring eyes as he and Allon take turns roaring at each other.

You remember a time many years ago when Gale told you he didn’t feel like he was father material. Granted it was in the middle of some tumultuous times for everyone, but you had thought he truly meant it. And despite him being overjoyed when you told him you were pregnant with Cassian several years ago you couldn’t help but worry those doubts would creep back in.

But they never did.

Gale took to fatherhood like a fish to water. Despite it being a learning curve for the both of you, he took everything in stride and a new glow settled into his being. Even in his most dour moods from hours of fruitless research or a failed spell experiment, his face would always light up at the sight of his son.

This adoration just seemed to grow as Cassian got older, the boy taking after his father in almost everything. You remember thinking that Gale was going to die of happiness when Cassian started to show an affinity for magic and a certain connection to the weave.

You know he would have been happy even if Cassian showed no interest in the weave or magic in general, but the fact that he does has only pulled the two of them closer.

“Mr. Dekarios!”

Allon’s voice pulls you from your reverie, watching as him and Cassian come running up to you and Gale. You look past him to see his parents watching you all and give them a small wave which they return.

Gale takes his hand from your own as the boy approaches and crouches down to his level.

“Yes, Allon?”

The boy, whose mask is tipped up to sit on top of his head, looks slightly sheepish as he looks at Gale.

“Can you show me that magic trick again?” He asks politely.

Gale feigns to think for a moment, hand on his chin as he scratches his beard. “Do you mean this one?”

With a flick of his wrist and a faint purple aura, Gale produces a small foil wrapped chocolate in the palm of his hand just to the side of Allon’s face. The tiefling giggles in delight before snatching the candy and stuffing it in his mouth.

You hear a small gasp come from behind him as his mother approaches, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Allon, what do you say?”

His eyes widen as he speaks around the chocolate in his mouth. “-‘fank you.”

Gale laughs before pulling two more chocolates from his robe and handing them to him. “You’re most welcome.”

Allon’s mother gives you both a small apology before leading her son back to where her husband stands.

Gale’s trick for Allon starts to attract a small crowd of children, all of them begging to see him do more tricks and other magical displays. Your wizard stands next to you as the gaggle grows, a huge grin splitting his lips as he complies with the tiny demands.

He pulls candy out of thin air, handing them to the small grabby hands that reach out before moving to pull hard candy’s from behind some children’s ears or even making them appear right in their pockets. You watch from a few feet away, as Cassian fights his way to the front of the crowd. Gal hoists him into his arms and pauses his display as yours son leans in to whisper in his ear.

Gale’s eyes light up, and he nods. “That sounds like a grand idea, Cassian. Would you like to help me?”

At the prospect of helping his father with magic, Cassian nods fervently, his mask shaking funnily on his face. Gale instructs the other children to back up just a few feet before setting Cassian down beside him. He turns to face him and takes his little hands in his own, palms facing up.

“Now, remember,” he instructs gently, “You have to think about it very hard, try to picture it in your head.”

Cassian nods firmly, and you can practically picture the look of serious determination on his face.

Gale continues. “And remember, do not be discouraged if it does not work because…”

“I’m still learning and mistakes are okay,” Cassian recites the words Gale tells him so often.

Gale smiles, squeezing Cassian’s hands. “That’s right. Now, are you ready?”

Cassian nods again and Gale turns to face the small crowd, which has now grown to include adults as well. You’ve now moved to join the crowd a few paces back from the front row of children in order to watch your family. You bite the inside of your cheek, hoping that Cassian isn’t nervous in any way.

Gale places both hands out in front of him, palms together and waits as Cassian mimics him. After a moment of concentration he separates his hands to reveal a small area of purple and blue light. You wait for Cassian to do the same but find yourself slightly perplexed when he stays still, his hands held firmly together in front of him.

You watch as Gale whispers something to him before he thrusts his hands skywards ending out a cascade of purple and blue light that settles over the crowd. Moments later you watch as Cassian does the same but instead, pure starlight springs out from his palms, creating a magical night sky above the square as the pinpricks of bright white light settle among the colorful aurora.

Cheers and gasps of pleasure erupt from the crowd, but you don’t stay to watch their faces as they marvel at the magic. You’re already rushing forward, taking Cassian in your arms as you gasp.

“Cassian, that was amazing!” You praise, hugging him close before looking at Gale who gazes proudly at his son. “When did you learn to do that?”

Cassian pulls away so he can look at you, tugging his mask up so his brown eyes can look into your own, excitement and utter joy sparkling in his eyes.

“I’ve been practicing for over a tenday!” He says proudly.

Finally gale approaches, finally free from attention as they all marvel at his handiwork. “It’s true. He would not rest until he was sure he could do it,” he leans in to press a kiss to your cheek. “In fact it was you he wanted to surprise most.”

You smile and turn to look at your son again. “Well consider me surprised,” you tell him before peppering his face with kisses, causing him to squeal. “I’m so, so proud of you, Cas.”

“Muuum!” He whines, causing you to relent in your barage of kisses.

“Okay, okay,” you say, moving to set him back on his feet. “Why don’t we go explore the rest of the square? I think I saw someone selling cinnamon buns…”

At the mention of his favorite treat, Cassian’s face lights up again and he tugs his mask back down as he grabs your and Gale’s hand in each of his one.

“Yes! Let’s go, let’s go!”

———

The moon is high in the sky by the time you three make your way home. Cassian is sound asleep in Gale’s arms, pockets building with candy, and chocolate staining the corners of his mouth.

You approach the tower soon enough, the facing flicker of three candles greeting you through the carved mouths of the pumpkins. You smile as you make your way up the steps, getting the door for Gale before following them both inside.

You follow them up to Cassian’s room and help Gale gently remove his costume, careful not to wake him. But despite your best efforts, just as you're tucking him into bed, Cassian stirs awake.

His eyes flutter slowly as his hands come up to tug the blanket further around him.

“Did the candles go out?” He asks sleepily.

You shake your head, leaning down to press a kiss to his forehead. “Nope. They’re still lit, my love. No bad luck this year.”

Cassian nods before turning onto his side, eyes slipping closed as he falls right back asleep.

You smile and press another kiss to his forehead, Gale doing the same before blowing out the candles and leaving the room, leaving the door cracked so a small amount of light can filter in from the hallway.

You both move about readying for bed once Cassian is settled, neither of you speaking as sleep starts to tug at your minds as well. Only when you’re settled beneath the covers with Gale’s arms snaking around you do you finally break the silence.

“You’re an amazing father,” you tell him softly, lips brushing against his own.

Gale is silent for a moment, eyes trailing over your face before his eyes slip closed and he pulls you closer, face nuzzling into the crook of your neck.

“That is praise most high - praise I sometimes still feel unworthy of.”

You shake your head, wrapping around him further. “You deserve that and more, my love.”

He presses a kiss to your neck, the underside of your jaw, before eventually pulling away to capture your lips with his own. It’s a slow, languid kiss, both of you just taking each other in until finally breaking apart and settling against the pillows.

“I love you,” gale says simply, pressing one last kiss to your cheek. “Thank you, for giving me this. Giving me a family.”

Your heart swells at his words and you move to bury your face in his chest, wanting him as close as possible.

“I love you too.”

#gale dekarios #gale dekarios x reader #gale x reader #bg3 gale x reader #bg3 x reader #gale #bg3 #bg3 gale

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albertdabuttler · 8 months

Text

Masked Adversary | D.L.

MASTERLIST

this fics masterlist

Pt. III

fandom: Kick-Ass

pairings: Dave Lizewski/Kick-Ass x F!Reader

WARNINGS: cussing, subtle mention of a wound, idk not much else i can think of 🤣

summary: You and Dave have lost a childhood friendship. The circumstances have made you grow to despise one another, until Kick-Ass has no one else to turn to but you, causing him to develop a small crush. The only problem being that you don't know it's him.

WC: 3K

gif not mine LOL!!

A/N: sorry for the delay lovelies, this part is a liiiiittle lame but i promise to give you what you want in the next. Xx

———————

You realized the next day there were a limited number of guys with those beautiful blue eyes and brown hair. Only three of them felt worth considering, for the others had voices that sounded too different or hobbies that contrasted with Kick-Ass’ obvious interests.

On your way to second hour, you noticed one of them walking down the hall as you switched books from your locker. You looked at him, hoping he would notice. He made eye contact with you for a second and smiled, but since you didn’t really know him, he kept on walking.

You thought maybe if that was him then he would have tried to avoid talking to you, for the obvious reason that he couldn’t have you knowing his identity.

You hoped it was that guy rather than any of the others. He was pretty good looking and a few girls you knew had a crush on him. Of course he was oblivious though.

“Hey Cleo.” You smiled as Cleo leaned against the locker next to yours.

“I think I’m getting a Kick-Ass fever.” She spoke. Thinking of the events of the night before, you replied. “How so?”

“I can’t stop thinking about him… And what you told me about him yesterday.”

“Right, yeah…” You chewed the tissue on the inside of your cheek, biting back a grin that dared to creep up on your face knowing you were the girl getting the action with Kick-Ass out of all his fans.

“Anything new happen with him? Did he send you anything on MySpace?” She winked, making you scoff in disgust.

“Um well…”

Cleo lit up in excitement, “What happened!?”

“He got hurt. Like real bad, and I patched him up and…”

“Please tell me what I think you’re gonna say,” She smiled, biting her bottom lip as she gripped your bicep from elation.

“I kissed him…” You smiled, she stared in utter shock but you knew she was happy for you.

“Cleo, promise me you won’t say anything because I really don’t want his fangirls to bombard me with questions only to TP my house.” You looked at her seriously.

“Of course.” She nodded sincerely.

“Was he a good kisser?” She whispered feverishly.

“Well, I could tell he didn’t have that much experience at first, and he even admitted to it, but he got the hang of it really quick.” You giggled. “And… He’s got really nice muscles.” You grinned, Cleo’s eyes widening, “Wait so—“

“He had to take his suit off for me to fix him up.”

The conversation continued as you told her in detail about what happened. You made your way to your next class, spotting Marty, Dave, and Todd walking through the crowd.

“Hey guys,” Spoke Cleo, stopping on the side of the corridor and getting their attention quickly but there was nothing you could do.

“Hi,” You greeted them as well. Dave looked gone. He had incredibly dark circles like he didn’t get any sleep. He also had a bruise forming on his left eye, and a cut on his lip.

“‘Sup.” Todd replied. Marty saluting you as well.

Dave smiled at Cleo, soon turning to you and feeling his knees weaken. He knew he couldn’t act differently, or else you would know. He knew you weren’t stupid.

“Hi.” His voice almost trembling as he swallowed, trying to avoid your gaze.

“Hey asshole.” You said chuckling.

He rolled his eyes and suddenly, he forgot that he made out with you twelve hours ago.

“What happened to your eye…?” You pointed at your own, mirroring the area in which he had the bruise.

“I got jumped again.” He said simply, looking into your eyes in an attempt to make it believable.

He wanted to look away from you, so that you wouldn’t catch on, but he just couldn’t. He noticed how your hair was getting in your face and he just wanted to push it out of the way to look at your pretty face.

Maybe he was spacing out? Probably tired from how much homework he had or something. You assumed lack of sleep from all that was why he looked so drained.

“You guys wanna get coffee at Atomic Comics later?” Cleo asked.

You shot her a look. She looked back, slightly nodding at Todd, whom she had a big crush on, but you knew he wouldn’t pick up on it. And you knew Cleo was too much of a pussy to ask him out alone.

Dave looked at you both, “We have to study for that project thing from sixth period,” pointing between you and himself.

“Right, yeah.” You sighed in annoyance.

He lowered his eyes, noticing your reaction. Okay so clearly you haven’t found out it’s him yet. Maybe if you knew it was him then you’d like him more? That being the answer he preferred, or you’d get really fucking pissed and call him things he wasn’t.

“We gotta get to class, Cleo.” You reminded her, holding onto the strap of your backpack and slowly moving towards the middle of the hall to begin your walk to second period.

"Bye," Dave spoke up, mostly to you, but his voice cracked as he realized he let it slip out.

You turned to him along with the others, the four of you looking at him strangely. His face began heating up from embarrassment so he cleared his throat, biting his lip as he pushed past you to make his way to his next class.

———————

Most of your morning was uneventful as usual, walking past Dave in the halls but it seemed like he lost his breath each time he spotted you. For the first few minutes of lunch, you and Cleo sat with Marty and Todd again, but somehow Dave hadn't joined you yet.

"Yeah, but that's because it's Superman." You heard Cleo state as you were brought back to reality.

"Are there any super heroes who's love interest doesn't like them until they reveal themselves as a super-hero?" Cleo turned to you.

"Uh, yeah I'm pretty sure there are." you answered.

Just then you spotted Dave making his way to your table, an irritated expression on his face.

"What happened to you?" Said Todd.

“The teacher made me go to the counselor's office." He motioned to his face with his index finger.

“Right. What'd she ask you about?" You spoke up as he sat down.

His eyes shot in your direction, almost like he forgot you were there. He swallowed as he answered your question. "She told me I should reach out to an adult if I'm getting mistreated at home or…being…bullied." He spoke like it was the most ridiculous story he'd ever told.

You giggled, "Well, what'd you tell her?"

"That I got jumped? Duh."

“Did you?” You questioned seriously.

He looked at you for a second, “Yeah.” He said simply, hoping you wouldn’t ask any further. Technically, he wasn’t lying. He did get jumped. But not for the sake of being robbed. They were trying to kill him.

“I’m glad you’re okay…I guess.” You admitted, earning looks from everyone else at the table.

Dave had to bite back the widest grin. “Um... Thanks.” He meant it. He obviously couldn’t tell you but you were pretty much the whole reason he was okay with how you stitched him up.

“…What?” You looked back at the other three. “If he wasn’t okay I’d have to do the project all by myself.” You said, trying to crack a joke out of it even if you were serious about him being okay.

“Anyway…” Cleo suddenly perked up, remembering what had happened with Kick-Ass.

“Oh yeah, someone over here has been getting real close with Kick-Ass these past few days.” She nudged your arm, smirking.

“Wait, really?” Marty spoke, “What’s he like, is he like avenging his parents,” he joked, earning a chuckle from Todd. Dave was oddly quiet.

“I dunno. He said he just wanted to see what it was like, I guess? And that he wanted to help people because no one else does.”

“Cute.” Said Cleo.

“Laaaame.” Spoke Marty, Todd soon agreeing with him.

“Didn’t you also kiss him?” Cleo spoke up.

You hit her arm, rolling your eyes as you were faced with having to admit.

“Dude, he's a superhero. He kisses like a ton of girls.”

He didn't know why you had lied about that but was grateful.

“Was he a good kisser?”

You didn’t understand for having to ask all this in front of the small group of boys. What you did know, was that the room got pretty hot with the position you were in.

Dave looked up at you expecting an answer as Todd and Marty watched you disinterested and kept on eating.

“Yeah.” You said.

He felt his stomach twist at your words, locking eyes with you for long enough to feel a blood rush in his face.

“Dave, what exactly did they do to your face? I mean all they had to do was put you on the ground right, not rip your face off.” You asked curiously, suddenly changing the topic.

He was at a loss for words for a minute, mouth vaguely ajar and still trying to recover from the fact you thought he was a good kisser.

“I got punched in the face like five times and I was also st—” He paused, forgetting he got stabbed and that you stitched it up. “stabbed—in the back…” He tried making it sound convincing.

“Right, got it.” You paused. “Do you wanna get a cab home together? Now I’m scared shitless to get one by myself, and you live like right next to me so… We can both avoid getting our asses robbed.” You chuckled.

“Okay…?” He he squinted, glancing at Marty and Todd which looked at him like he was out of his mind.

———————

You’d been sitting on the curb in front of the school, waiting for what had been about half an hour for Dave.

“Hey, sorry. Mr. Duaine wanted to talk with me.” Dave’s familiar voice rang out as he approached you.

“It’s okay. I called a cab a few minutes ago, should be getting here in a bit.” You answered.

Dave sat down next to you, the sun hitting both your heads with a sickening heat. But the silence was peaceful somehow, it didn’t get awkward.

“Hey, Dave?”

He turned his head to look at you, his eyes squinting from the brightness of the sun. But remembering what happened last night, he couldn't keep his gaze on you for too long.

“Hm?”

Chewing on your lip, you held out your hand to him. “Friends?”

He took a moment to look at your hand, lifting his eyes back up at you. He hesitated, and you didn’t blame him. “What?” He looked at you accusingly.

You looked back down at the concrete in front of you, trying to find whatever words you had in the back of your mind to try and explain yourself.

“I…”

You faced him, “I think I don’t hate you that much anymore.”

He let out a soft laugh, “You think?”

You threw a small pebble you found onto the street before you two. “…Sorry I cut you off like that…”

You sighed. “I miss being friends with you. You were my best friend and I shoved it up my ass because you liked a girl and hadn’t even gotten to that point of my life yet...” You paused, “I mean, starting to crush on boys…” you added. “I didn’t understand why you liked her so much when I thought we were supposed to be focused on stupid shit like comics. You grew up before me and it made me feel horrible.”

Dave only stared at you with his lips parted, like he was going to say something, but nothing slipped out. Hearing all this from you made him want to make out with you again.

“Obviously at this point I understand you, but… You didn’t have to push me away, y’know? After a while you kinda just ignored me or turned me down when I wanted to hang out.”

Dave’s heart grew heavier with your words. He never knew how much it affected you, he thought you didn’t care about the friendship you had either and that you just dropped him for no reason. Gosh he was so fucking blind.

“I’m sorry.” He said simply, gazing at the ground in front of him.

“I miss being friends with you too.” Dave finally brought his eyes to yours, giving you a soft, but guilty smile.

“I’m sorry I treated you like that. I mean, you’re the only friend I had for that long. You were also the only girl I could talk to without embarrassing myself.” He paused, turning to you and seeing your eyebrows furrowed.

“Wait—“ His eyes widened, “that—that sounds wrong—I mean, you… I—I don’t like you like that, um… I was just wanting to say that—since I could talk to you, I…” He still wasn’t getting his point across and only embarrassed himself further.

“Fuck, I… You know what I meant.“ He chuckled awkwardly.

“Yes, I get your point, Dave.” You chuckled.

“Okay, good.” he breathed, scoffing at himself but his face flushed red.

"Are you blushing?" You felt your heart skip before biting back a laugh, considering that everything he said was ridiculous. “Two years without me and you already miss me so much you get a crush on me?” You finally giggled.

“Shut up,” he rolled his eyes at your laughter, “Gross.”

“You asshole!” you smacked his arm.

He let himself laugh along with you, until suddenly his mind began flooding with thoughts of how you kissed him the night before. How soft and warm your lips were, how your hands felt touching his chest, playing with his hair. How he was resisting so hard not to tell you who he was and that he knew you, not to beg you to touch him in ways he’s never been touched before.

He did think of you that way although he’d never admit it out loud.

“Whatever.” You scoffed, completely oblivious to the fact that, in reality, this boy was head over heels for you.

“Fine.” He held his hand out like you had just done for him, “Friends. I guess.” He playfully rolled his eyes and you took it with no hesitation, giving him a firm shake.

“So uh,” he began as he let go of your hand, “You and Kick-Ass.” He hid a smile.

You scoffed, “What, are you jealous?” you smirked.

“Ew.” He scorned. “The way you talked about him at lunch, thanks for giving me something to relentlessly make fun of you for. Imagine liking a guy you don’t even know.” he teased. But you could have him all you wanted. You did have him, all to yourself, unbeknownst to you.

“Shut up, Dave! It’s not like I’m in love with him. I don’t think I’d even date him...” You laughed

He took a nervous breath, like somehow you could read his mind, that he was practically lying to you and you knew.

In the current moment he wanted to kiss you like he did yesterday. So perilously. But not just kiss you, he wanted to love you. He kept watching you as your laugh died down and you smiled, looking elsewhere. A smile threatened to break upon his lips because of how pretty you looked and that beautifully contagious smile.

Dave was snapped from his thoughts as he heard a car approaching, looking in the direction of the cab as it pulled up in front of the two of you. The boy stood up first, quickly grabbing your hand to pull you up, and surprisingly, he opened the door for you. You decided to scoot all the way to the other side so that he wouldn’t have to walk around.

“Where to?”

————

Not long passed before you were dropped off at the entrance to your neighborhood.

“Thank you!” You called, Dave paying the driver what was due as she drove away.

“Thanks for getting that.” You told Dave, grateful that he had payed for you.

“Yeah…” He replied, adjusting his backpack as he turned to walk next to you. You heard a quiet wince and noticed a little grimace on his face.

“Hey, are you okay?”

“Yes. I’m good.” He replied quickly, squirming in his place.

"You sure?" You watched him with a look of concern.

"Yeah, just a bruise from yesterday."

You only nodded, beginning to walk down the sidewalk to get home.

"So..." Dave began speaking after a moment, although the silence was comfortable, he still wanted to talk to you.

"Were you able to get any part of the project done last night?" You asked.

"I stayed up super late writing my part. What about you?"

You didn't realize that 'late' meant he was up until 2 AM because of everything that had happened.

"I started kind of early but..." You paused, remembering how Kick-Ass had gotten hurt. "Some...stuff happened and I got distracted... I only got to write like two paragraphs."

He smiled, he got you so distracted that you couldn't even finish your homework. He felt proud to be so memorable as Kick-Ass.

"What happened?" He asked this out of 'curiosity.'

"Uh my friend called and we were talking all night..." You lied.

"Oh, alright." He bit back a smile.

"What about you? Why were you up so late?"

"I was just... I had some stuff to take care of with my dad a—and we got home kind of late, so…”

“Mm.” You nodded.

As you stepped foot on your porch, you turned to salute Dave until you saw him later.

“Just come over at like seven.” You suggested, smiling and sending a small wave soon after.

“Okay, see you.” He subtly sized you up, flashing his dimpled smile before walking back to his own home.

Since when was his smile so attractive?

———————

Thank you for reading!

tagging everyone who asks for it 🤣

@lizzxoxo @kenmaisbae

#dave lizewski x reader #dave lizewski #dave lizewski angst #writing #dave lizewski fluff #aaron taylor johnson #fanfiction #fanfic #fluff #iz writes #angst #aaron taylor johnson fic #kick ass x reader #kick ass fluff #kick ass #kick ass fanfic #kick ass angst

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honeydippedwaffles · 9 months

Text

Smallest Drop - Part 3

Summary: Tav knew she was falling for him in some ways but she didn't realise just how bad it had become until she got shot in the leg while killing a vampire hunter for him.

Meanwhile, Astarion really doesn't understand Tav and her strange solutions to problems and ignoring it really isn't working well.

I've already planned a part 4 because I'm addicted. Tav is not mentioned by name.

Content Warnings: She/Her Tav

Word Count: 3k words

╔═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══╗

Though she tried her utmost to appreciate every environment they explored (if only because she would otherwise go crazy), she couldn’t find much she liked about the swamp. Not even with its sweetened flowers, warm sunlight, and strange sheep.

She was almost a thousand percent sure those were polymorphed humans but she refused to worry about them yet. Whatever had created them surely would reveal itself and for now, she focused on the bigger problem before her.

A monster hunter standing before her with a friendly smile on his face and a laugh echoing across the swamp as though he hadn’t threated one of her companions.

He may not know what he’d done but it put her on edge regardless.

She made sure not to look at Astarion, a subliminal concern in her. She refused to give too much attention in case it drew his gaze over to those glinting red eyes or faded but very obvious scars nestled against pale skin.

Instead, she stepped forward and demanded all the attention she could with a loud voice and a smile. “Sounds awfully boring,” she said. “To hunt one creature for so long and not make any progress. Hardly even a challenge or thrill to just slowly camp somewhere and wait.”

The hunter chuckled and she seethed. “The first thing you learn in my line of work is never underestimate your opponent. This spawn has been eluding me for quite some time.”

She tried to keep her expression neutral but struggled. Even in her best moods, she couldn’t hide what she thought and the anxiety in her chest was stronger than ever. Maybe he would think the worry in her face showcased a fear of the creature rather than of him.

“Only a spawn?” she asked. “Pity. Not like it’s a real vampire. There’s little glory to be had in such a hunt.”

He frowned at the accusation in her tone and raised an eyebrow, perhaps confused by the hostility in her voice.

Before he could answer though, Astarion drawled, “I don’t know. I’m sure a vampire spawn could still rip your throat out if he felt like it.”

She couldn’t help a slight smile. Though perhaps not happy, he didn’t sound nervous which meant they fight should be easy. Lae’zel, bored as she was, never complained about further bloodshed and undoubtedly this hunter had no experience facing a gith sword.

Her own bloodthirstiness surprised her. Rarely did she feel the desire to spill blood quite as intensely as she did now and no guilt followed. This man dared to threaten somebody she cared for and she immediately moved to murder.

She really needed to be careful of the strange hold Astarion had on her.

“He is right, unfortunately. They’re only weak when compared to their masters. During the day we have the advantage but when night falls, you will not find a more dangerous quarry.”

She pretended to wince. “Awful for somebody like you to hunt something so fierce when you appear barely able to fight one of these sheep. Should I not worry about one of these spawn creeping up on you when you least expect it?”

The hunter appeared thoroughly offended and Lae’zel snorted in what she had started to learn may be a laugh.

“Well, we’ve stayed alive so far so perhaps we can focus on that.” Astarion reminded her of a cat playing with a mouse. But the cat also hovered far away from the potential battle, uncertain.

“It’ll be safer for you to keep patrols at night,” the hunter warned. “Just in case it tries anything.”

“I don’t think I will.”

He tried to be friendly and helpful but now he simply frowned. She almost felt bad for turning rude and abrasive, noticed how her response made him a little more uncomfortable but not enough to reach for a weapon. Her hand however drifted closer to her blade.

Morals said she should provide him a false lead and send him on a wild chase far away from her party.

Her brain said he may be a threat. If he doubled back or found out about her deception, he could sneak into their camp and take Astarion before she noticed.

And her heart told her if she let him go, Astarion wouldn’t relax again. He may not even stay in the area if he thought the hunter lurked nearby – too jumpy and flighty to stick around their group.

Her morals would need to keep quiet until she dealt with this.

“Maybe we should take him up on his recommendation,” Astarion suggested. “Or deal with this threat now.”

“Take him out before he hurts anybody,” she said and it was an agreement.

The hunter waved his hands quickly. “Oh, I wouldn’t recommend hunting a vampire spawn if you have no experience. You may be a strong fighter but I doubt you’d be able to challenge one.”

“I wasn’t speaking about Astarion,” she said. “If he wanted me dead, he’s had ample opportunities so far.”

Astarion hummed, almost chuckling. “You’re not wrong. It’s lucky that you’ve proven yourself far more useful alive.”

The hunter’s gaze slowly drifted between her and Astarion and her grip tightened on her blade. “That’s impossible,” he said as he reached for his crossbow. “There’s no way you’re –“

She stepped forward and slipped the blade free. Steel sunk deep into flesh and he choked out a garbled, surprised sound as his throat split open. Disgusting.

Blood sprouted from his neck and down his chest as he fell backwards, eyes wide with shock. But she had been too confident and she didn’t notice how he’d managed to get his crossbow out; how he pulled the trigger even as the last of the dark red pulsed from his throat.

The bolt stabbed directly through her thigh. It drove straight through the leather and pierced the flesh beneath even as the others drew their weapons to assist in a battle she’d already won.

She collapsed to one knee as his body thumped against the ground with a few ragged gasps. This was scarcely her first time being shot by a crossbow bolt but something must have coated the weapon. Poison or enchantment, she didn’t know but the pain and the weakness spread fast through her body and her blade fell onto the soft grass below.

“Are you alright?” Wyll arrived at her side first, concerned.

“I’m fine,” she reassured him through gritted teeth. “He’s dead right?”

“From what I could see,” Astarion said with a dramatic sigh. “Well, that’s a pity. I wanted to kill him myself.”

She ignored him and put a bit of pressure on the site of the injury. Her muscles burned fiercely as she decided to leave the bolt in for now. Rather not pull it out when she didn’t know what clung to it.

She slowly stood and blood pulsed down her leg in thick rivers. It slicked the area between her armour and left awful, sticky trails.

No visiting the strange old woman it would appear. She refused to explore a swamp when her leg felt like this.

She stepped forward and hissed in pain, just about collapsing once more if it hadn’t been for Wyll’s support on her back. Definitely something strange about this one.

“We do have spare health potions,” he said as he looked at the bolt. “But this has some magic on it. We should get back to the camp to make sure it isn’t going to deal any long-term damage.”

“I like that idea,” she admitted with a strained and uncomfortable laugh. “It’s a little sore.”

Over the past few days, she’d had many close calls with many weapons but this wooziness… she hated it. The air around her swam as she limped her way along the ridiculously long road back to their camp, reassuring her companions with soft words which held no purchase. Even they could see the way the energy drained from her body with each step.

She accepted only the occasional of assistance from Wyll and tried to make it appear as though the injury didn’t bother her.

Honestly, it had been her fault entirely. She should have noticed the crossbow and been more aware of when he pulled it free. Anger clouded her vision then and still did as they walked back.

The audacity of such a man who dared to threaten her friends… he agitated her even now when he lay on the floor, destined to be anything more than food for the various animals in the area.

Astarion didn’t return her occasional glances nor did he offer help.

She hoped he hadn’t become upset at her actions. Though he may have wanted to kill the hunter himself, she had seen an opportunity and taken it before anybody got hurt.

Well, aside from her.

The enchantment on the bold got removed swiftly but her body needed time to recover and the evening passed uncomfortably. Every muscle burned and her breaths came in soft, quick succession. She tried to keep her complaints quiet and not bother any companions. She had the antidote; she had a bandage. Now all she had to do was wait.

And wait.

The night’s hours stretched long as she lay in her tent. She prayed for sleep to find her but the ache in her bones and the burning pain refused to allow her an opportunity forward.

The footsteps distracted her from her twisting and turning. For somebody so akin to sneaking around, Astarion had stopped doing it after he’d given her a heart attack and she ended up headbutting him. He’d complained non-stop over it for at least an hour but now he didn’t sneak around anymore.

He stepped through the entrance of her tent, his hair haloed in moonlight. The night suited him as well as the day did. He looked practically ethereal as he drifted into her tent, every bit the predator she’d been warned about.

“Well, don’t you look like an absolute mess.”

She rolled her eyes and tilted her head away from him. “And it’s all because of you.”

“Me? It’s hardly my fault the man had a poisoned crossbow. You could have dodged it, you know. I’ve seen you twist your way out of worse hits than that.”

Almost always because of luck but she wouldn’t tell him as much. Instead, she offered him a small smile and tried to stop the tremble in her limbs. At least the pain felt lighter than before.

“Aren’t you meant to be cured or whatever by now?” he asked.

“Shadowheart said it’ll heal up by the morning at latest. I just have to last until then.” Exhausted of lying down, she pulled herself up into a sitting position, leaning against her travelling chest with her legs stretched out. “I’m surprised you came to visit. Are you worried?”

He put his hand to his heart and smiled. “You wound me. Of course, I’m worried. It’s not every day I find somebody dedicated enough to slice a man’s throat in my name.”

“The others would have done the same to keep you safe.”

“Nonsense. I wouldn’t trust any of them with catching a spider.”

She laughed. Though he complained, they were growing on him and she didn’t even need to prompt him to join their impromptu gatherings anymore.

“They like you.”

He ignored her comment and instead spoke of something else. “I believe my old master sent the hunter. He wants me back under his thumb, as I expected. This won’t be the only person he sends and not all will go down so easily.”

“I won’t get distracted next time then,” she laughed.

“Distracted?”

She gestured at him, knowing better than to voice the protectiveness for what it was. She didn’t understand it much either. “I’ve always told you how pretty you are. Now look what those sharp eyes have done. I couldn’t stop looking at them.”

She could play his game too. Offer him compliments and flattery instead of truth when he felt vulnerable.

“You can’t distract me with compliments,” he scoffed.

“Oh, I absolutely can.”

If she had the energy to do so, she would have continued but the wound pulsed in pain and she turned her attention to it, pressing against the soft skin to try and make it stop. The red bandage twisted her stomach into knots but it had stopped bleeding after a while.

Astarion appeared close to her unexpectedly, close enough to kiss with the smallest smirk on his face.

“You must try to stop yourself from getting hurt like this,” he said, trailing the faintest brush over her thigh. “It’s a waste of perfectly good blood. I almost couldn’t contain myself when I saw it running over your skin.”

She tried to laugh but it came out more exhausted than anything. “I’ll try but I make you no promises. My blood isn’t only yours.”

“Not yet. Perhaps the next time you give me the opportunity, I’ll drain it all so you can’t waste it.”

She tilted her head to the side to bear her throat, an exhausted but teasing smile in place. “I did say you could feed off me this morning, right? You’re welcome to take a bite now if you’re hungry.”

He appeared to not be able to tell if she joked or not. She smiled to tell him she was. Even if she had the blood to spare right now (and honestly, she didn’t), she doubted Astarion planned on feeding from her when he already felt as though he owed her some strange debt.

She’d noticed that about him. He only propositioned her when he felt as though he had to give her something in exchange.

It made her concerned.

He scoffed. “You couldn’t pay me enough. I can smell that rancid poison in your veins and it’s awful.”

She groaned and rolled her head back. “I hate this. It’s worse than that stupid apple I ate when we first entered the swamp and just as awful as when the goblin managed to sink its axe into my arm the other day. I thought I caught something from that at least.”

He chuckled. “Well, whatever magic was, it was likely intended for me so it probably won’t kill you.”

“If it’s going to kill me, I’d like it to get it over with. This pain is horrific.”

She expected him to leave soon but she took the opportunity to tap the spot beside her, asking him to sit down. What better company could she ask for? Elves didn’t sleep and despite pretending, Astarion certainly never allowed himself to meditate for very long at all.

“You’re very demanding, aren’t you?” Regardless, he took a seat and they lapsed into silence, punctuated only by her soft and somewhat shaky breaths.

She wanted to ask about the hunter. Wanted to know more about his old master and why he would be so desperate to claim a spawn back. Vampires could create as many spawn as they wanted to and he didn’t need to keep one at all times. It felt like a great deal of energy.

But as the silence stretched out, only one really bothered her enough to make her speak.

“Are you alright?”

“Obviously,” he laughed. “I’m not the one who got shot, was I?”

“No but I wouldn’t want to know a hunter is after me. I don’t want you to feel like you’re unsafe here.”

His smile turned bitter and unhappy as he answered that, his mouth twisted into a scowl. “Safe? Nowhere’s going to be safe as long as Cazador remains alive. The reach of a vampire lord goes far beyond what you may think.”

She may be a little light-headed for a proper conversation but she kept conscious, if unable to stop herself from leaning against his side. He was so cool. It felt amazing against the feverish nature of her skin and she wanted to hug him so badly.

“If he tries anything, I’ll make sure he doesn’t take you.”

He frowned at her and shifted his weight, not quite moving away from her but also not wholly embracing it. She hoped he would move away if he felt uncomfortable, as he did to a few of her other casual touches.

“You’re greatly misunderstanding the power he wields,” Astarion warned, his voice soft. “It would never be as simple as what we’ve seen so far. If he wanted to, he could stroll into this camp and whisk me away before you even noticed what had happened.”

Her solutions were a little scattered so she went for the easy one, taking his hand and lacing their fingers together before she could think about it.

“There,” she murmured. “If he tried to take you away now, I’ll notice immediately.”

Astarion’s muscles turned strangely tense and he made a small coughing sound, muttering something about how she would lose a hand then. She didn’t really hear it. Sleep crept up on her fast with the relaxing touch of his cool body and she lowered her head to his shoulder, eyes drifting closed.

When she woke in the morning, she lay alone in her tent beneath almost every blanket she owned and feeling brilliantly better. The pain faded and she felt ready to take on a hag.

Which incidentally is what they ended up doing. She spent the longest time afterwards wondering if she’d dreamed the previous night or not, distracted enough to nearly spill a bottle of unknown potion all over Gale. After a multitude of apologies, they made their way out and if Astarion’s hand brushed against the back of hers for a second, she didn’t mention it further.

Taglist: @venus-wrts @stephmundo @cassiopeia-adaar @escapistoftherealworld @scarletrosesposts @mavix

#baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate iii #baldurs gate astarion #astarion #astarion x tav #astarion x reader

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thetriumphantpanda · 8 months

Text

Come Away With Me | Joel & Tommy Miller (Sunday)

Summary | The final day, but at last, not the final goodbye.

Word Count | 3K

Chapter Warnings | Familial fluff, plenty of emotions, explicit smut, breeding kink, cumplay/cum eating, unprotected PiV sex, creampie, breath play, possessive!Joel, lots of feels, but lots of happiness too.

Authors Note | Okay I know I teased DP but it ended up not fitting the vibe, please forgive me. BUT HERE WE ARE. THE LAST PROPER CHAPTER. We still have the epilogue to go, but I can't believe we're kinda wrapping up here. Thank you for all the love you give this series. I know this one is shorter, but I didn't want to drag it out, I hope you think it's a perfect as I think it is. If you enjoy this, please consider commenting, reblogging or coming into my ask box to scream with me. And, as always, If you want to support me, you can donate to my Ko-Fi.

A reminder that I no longer use taglists - to keep up with my writing, please follow@thetriumphantpandanotifs and turn on notifications to keep up to date.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Ko-Fi

Tommy is still snoring softly into your ear when you wake the next morning, but the hand that Joel had kept clutched in his own all night is empty, his side of the bed cool again like it had been a few days ago. You let yourself have a moment wrapped up with Tommy, the warmth of his body almost lulling you back to sleep until you remember your son is here and one of you needs to get up to go and see to him.

You extricate yourself gently from Tommy, being careful not to wake him. He’s spent the last week being at the beck and call of Joshua, so you decide to let him sleep in a little this morning. You throw on some comfy clothes that have been lying around the room for most of the week before heading down to the room you’d put Joshua down in the previous evening, but the door is open, and the bed is empty. The door to Sarah’s room is also open so you make your way down into the living area, but that’s also empty.

The door to the back porch is slightly ajar, and when you step out onto it, you can see Sarah and Joel sat on the benches near the fire pit, where you’d been a few evenings before, Joshua sat on Joel’s knee as he bounces him up and down gently. It makes you heart swell and your eyes glass over with tears as you watch Sarah break off a little bit of her toast to put in his hand. One big, happy family.

“Good morning.” You smile when you reach them, Joshua looking up at you with his hands sticky from the jam that had been on Sarah’s toast.

“Mama!” He outstretches his arms for you to pick him up from Joel’s knee, which you do, cradling him to your neck in your usual morning hug.

Sarah shuffles over, making room for you to sit between the two of them, you try not to sit too close to her father, but you can still feel his warmth through your clothes, as he moves his arm to put it on the back of the bench. You wish he’d wrap it around your shoulders as you move Joshua to sit on your lap.

“You okay this morning, baba?” You ask him, pressing a kiss to the top of his head.

“Sarah fed me toast!”

“You’re a lucky boy, aren’t you?” You chuckle, “She didn’t feed me any toast!”

You’re still chuckling when Sarah’s hand comes into your periphery with her last slice of toast, holding it in front of you for you to take a bite, you let out a hearty laugh but take a bite none-the-less, because it looks like the toast Joel makes, covered in butter and slathered in fruity jam.

“Don’t want anyone spreading rumors about me having favourites.” She laughs, taking her toast back for herself.

Joel leans forward so he can see Sarah around your body, his hand resting on your arm so casually to keep you still while he speaks to her, “What about me?” He asks.

“You’ve just eaten three slices,” She accuses, “You don’t need anymore.”

“Rude.” He grumbles next to you, keeping his hand there, like he was just waiting for an excuse to touch you.

You really want to turn around and kiss him. Tell him that it’s okay, that you’ve sorted everything with Tommy, that his faith in you worked out. You wonder if the time they spent together last night means he knows? Did Tommy say something? Does his hand on your arm, thumb rubbing soft circles on your skin means he knows he can have you whenever he wants now? Your mind is racing a mile a minute when Tommy joins you.

He's found a tray somewhere, and it’s got four mugs of steaming coffee on it, plus a box of juice for Joshua. He hands them out, stabs the straw into the box of apple juice for Joshua before he takes his son from you, sitting him on his lap on the bench across from the three of you.

“I miss you all.” Sarah says softly next to you.

You turn to her, wrapping your own arm around her shoulder, because she sounds sad. You pull her closer into your side, leaning down to press a kiss to her head like you had done with Joshua.

“Ah bug, we miss you too,” You say softly, listening as she sniffs, “But you’re doing amazing things, babygirl,” She’s only been gone a few weeks, but you think it must be hard for her, having spent her entire life around three people who would have died for her if necessary, “We’re already so proud of you, but think of what this one,” You nod your head towards Joel, digging your elbow into his side slightly, “Is going to be like when you graduate, when you find the cure for mankind,” She chuckles a bit at this, wiping her eyes, “And you can come home and see us whenever you need to, or we can jump in the car and come to you.”

You give her one last squeeze into your side before she pulls away with a smile. You make the mental note to make more of an effort to call her and see how she’s doing each week, you’re sure there are things happening that she won’t want to tell Joel.

Once you’ve all finished your coffee, Tommy is the one to speak, “We should probably think about making a move soon,” He nods to you, “It’s a long drive back with this one.”

You nod, trying not to think about having to go back to real life, having to go back to work and juggle that with being a mom, but it was inevitable really. You’re always running out of time with this little bubble you’ve created.

Packing up is easy, you hadn’t unpacked many of the clothes you’d bought, Joel had made sure to keep you naked often, and you pack up the leftover food for Sarah to take back to college with her. She’s particularly excited about having steak for dinner when you pass the pack of meat you hadn’t used last night to her. You wave her off as he drives away, holding on to Joel’s hand as he tries not to cry. It won’t ever get easier for him, watching his little girl drive away, no matter how old she’s going to get, how much she will continue to grow on her adventure, she’s always going to be the girl that begged to ride on his shoulders, begged for pretty much anything and got whatever she wanted.

Tommy heads inside, Joshua on his hip to finish packing everything up, and you press up on your tiptoes to kiss Joel’s cheek, “She’ll be fine.” You say simply with a smile, “And so will you.”

He wants to say that he knows, but he’s not so sure. His bubble is about to burst, he’ll drive home on his own, to his empty house, and get up tomorrow morning and go about his day as he always has, but with the memory of what it’s like to have you to himself burnt onto his brain. He’s scared. Scared he won’t feel this happy again, but he doesn’t want you to know that, doesn’t want to ask you for more than he already has. So he tells you he knows, kisses your cheek right back, and resigns himself to being lonely once more.

It takes you ages to get home. You’re tired. Joshua is fast asleep upstairs having slept most of the journey home too. Your home is familiar, warm, but you can’t help the feeling that something is missing. He’s missing.

“What did he say?” You ask Tommy as he settles onto the couch with you, glass of whiskey in his hand to unwind before you go to bed.

“Huh?”

“What did Joel say when you told him I could see him more?”

Tommy looks at you with a confused look on his face, like you’re talking to him in another language.

“I thought you would have told him?”

Your heart sinks. You have a lump in your throat. God fucking damn it. You put your head in your hands. You let that man leave you not realizing he wasn’t saying goodbye until it was the right time of the month again. Not realizing you kept your promise, fixed it all. Not knowing he could be happy.

“When would I have had the time?” You ask.

“That’s why I left you outside when Sarah left!” He exclaims in defense, “I thought you’d tell him then.”

“I didn’t!” You cry, trying not to freak out, “Oh Tommy, he’s going to think the worst.”

He puts his hand on your shoulder, trying to ground you, to soothe you, “Why don’t you tell him now?” He offers softly, “He’s only a few streets over.”

“I’ve been gone so long.” You try and fight, the guilt at being away from this part of your family weighing on you. You've neglected them, you think. You should be here, with them, you think.

“Sugar, we coped a week without you,” Tommy muses, leaning forward to press a kiss to your forehead, “We can go one more night,” You look up at him, eyes glassy, because now you realise he truly meant it, that he honestly wants his brother to be happy, and if that means having you then so be it, “Go on,” He nods his head towards the door, “Go get your man.”

It’s late. Joel is sitting on his couch, TV on low, bottle of beer half-finished on the side table. He should go to bed, he knows he’ll have a long day catch up with work tomorrow, but he can’t switch his brain off. He feels lonely. Sat in his house, alone, after a week of having the love of his life curled up next to him. He almost pulls out his phone, shoots a text to the girl he’s been seeing, but he doesn’t want to fuck, he wants someone to cuddle. Someone to fall asleep next to and hold as she snores into his skin, and she never stays, always catches her breath and leaves as soon as she can because that’s what they agreed.

He's about to call it a night when his doorbell rings. He panics, mainly because he wonders if it something to do with Sarah, has she hurt herself? Was she in an accident on the way back to college? He knows it isn’t, because she messaged him a few hours ago with a photo of the steak she’d cooked, but he still panics as he walks to the door, expecting to open it and find a police officer standing there ready to tell him something awful, but when he opens the door, it’s you. His pretty girl. The woman he’s spent less than twelve hours away from and is already yearning for.

He moves to open his mouth, ask what’s wrong, but you launch yourself at him. Jumping onto him with your legs wrapped around his waist, his hands on your ass to keep you upright as you plant your lips right on his. He doesn’t argue, steps back and kicks his door shut, kissing you right back. You open your mouth against his, and he follows, letting your tongues work together as he carries you to his kitchen, setting you on his countertop.

“What’s all this for?” He asks quietly against your lips, pressing his back to yours lightly before he lets you answer.

“He knows,” You speak softly, gripping onto the collar of his flannel, “He’s known all along, how much you love me, how much I love you,” You kiss him again as his heart flutters in his chest, “Says you can have me whenever you want Joel, you can share me, if that’s what you want.”

He holds your face in his palms, looking into your eyes for any sign this might be a sick joke, but he only finds them filled with love, the same way you’ve looked at him all week, “Is that what you want?” He asks, because he only wants what you want.

“Yes,” You breathe against his mouth, “I want you, always I want you Joel,” You kiss him again, “Now please, put your fucking mouth on me and tell me you want the same.”

It’s desperate this time, when he kisses you, all teeth and tongue and moans as his hands pop open the button of your jeans. You lift your hips off the counter so he can drag them off you. You whine when he pulls his lips from yours, but he drops to his knees, pulling you as close to the edge of the counter as he can without dragging you off him. You expect him to tease you, to work you up, but what he does this time is use his thumbs to spread the folds of your pussy and sucks your clit right into his mouth. Your hands fly to his hair, tangling your fingers in his curls as he lets your clit go from between his lips, but uses the tip of his tongue to flick at that bundle of nerves.

You keep your eyes on him as he devours your cunt, how own eyes looking right back up at you, challenging you to come, challenging you to come undone for him. Using the flat of his tongue to give wide licks to you, then swapping to those delicate kitten licks that make your hips buck into his face. He’s proving himself to you, proving to you he’s worthy of this, of having you around more than he’s used to. He will spend the rest of his life on his knees, worshipping at your altar like this if he must.

“Fuck, Joel,” You groan as he sinks two of his fingers into your pussy, curling them upwards into that spot he knows makes you sing, “Gonna make me come.”

“You gonna cover me, pretty girl?” He asks, pulling away from your cunt just enough to speak, “Want you to soak me.”

It’s filth like that which always tips you over the edge, like right now, as you clench around his fingers, his tongue back on your clit as you do exactly what he wanted, those fingers coaxing you to gush around him, soak his face as he groans into your cunt, coaxing out every last drop of your orgasm before he stands, giving you barely any time to compute what’s happening, before his thick cock is sinking right into the depths of you.

You have no idea whether you’re still coming from before, or whether this sets another one off, as he drags your mouth back to his own, your taste so prevalent on his tongue, but you’re fluttering around his cock, arching into him and crying out his name again. It’s too much, he’s too much, but you don’t want him to ever stop as his hips snap into yours and his hand settles on your throat.

He uses that hand to push your head up, looking you straight in the eye, “Mine now, aren’t you pretty girl?” He punctuates this with a thrust into you.

You nod as he squeezes his hand around your throat a little, nibbling at your jaw line, “Yes Joel,” You whimper, “Yours.”

Because you are. You might be someone else’s as well, but in these four walls, when you’re on your own? You’re just as much his as anyone else’s, and that makes you melt. He’s close, you can feel it, hear it in the way he’s groaning into your skin.

“Come on Joel,” You coax breathlessly, “Give it to me, come inside me.”

“Fuck,” He spits out, “Gonna give you a baby, give it to you right now, mama,” You choke out a sob as he speeds up the snapping of his hips into you, “Give you the fuckin’ moon if you asked me.” You don't doubt him, you know he would, you're tempted to ask for it right now, just to see what he does, see what he gives you.

He pushes himself into you so deep you can feel him in your stomach as he comes, biting down on your shoulder, hands gripping your hips as you feel the ropes of his cum fill you up, praying that this, or any of the times before during the week, have planted his baby right inside you. You want to swell with him again, to make something beautiful with him again, and to be able to properly share the joy with him this time.

He slips out of you, but as is the norm for Joel now, he sinks his fingers into you, stuffing you full of him, giving you as much of him as he possibly can, leaning over to kiss you as he does. He lets you suck his fingers clean, kisses you again, totally unbothered that he can taste himself on your mouth. He pulls away, resting his forehead on yours.

“You gotta go?” He asks softly.

“I’m yours,” You smile, leaning up to peck his lips, “I can stay as long as you want.”

So you do. You stay all night. Curled up in his bed with him. He wakes you up once in the night, slowly easing himself inside your cunt from behind, body clutched to him, rocking his hips into you so so slowly, coaxing your orgasm out from you like he has all the time in the world, because he does now. He doesn’t need to rush with you anymore, your time won’t run out anymore, because you’re his just as much as you're Tommy's.

As he clutches you to his chest, his heart full of so much love, with finally somewhere to put it, he thanks the Lord, he thanks you, but most of all he thanks his brother, for loving him this much, for loving him enough to give him his own slice of happiness. Because for the first time in a long time, he truly is happy, whole again, because of his brother, because of you. Because of his pretty girl.

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katyswrites · 3 months

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you're a bandit like me

Pairing: Baron Lamram/afab!reader

Warnings: SMUT (18+), references to crime, unprotected p in v, oral sex (reader receiving), sneaky links, no use of y/n, SPOILERS for Marmalade

Wordcount: 3k

A little blurb about Baron - takes place after the end of the movie, later that night. A universe in which you're his sneaky link, and a partner-in-crime - and he needs you, now.

It starts with a knock on your door in the middle of the night. You’re in bed, flicking between channels, ultimately settling on the late-night news to hopefully help lull you to sleep.

You’re half-conscious, the reporter’s voice a dull din in the background.

“- federal agents have given a new description of the suspect, who they say they have previously mis-identified as a female -”

You’re falling asleep in the blue glow of the television, until you hear the frantic tapping on your door. You jump, suddenly alert - you covertly grab your gun off of the nightstand - you never sleep without it nearby -, and slowly walk towards the door, consciously avoiding the squeakiest floorboards. The knocking is continuing, and part of you worries that the cops have truly, finally caught up to you. You bring your eye up to the peephole, and breathe a sigh of relief.

He’s standing there, the same as ever, if not a bit more tired-looking. And -

“You cut your hair,” you say, breathing a sigh of relief.

Baron nods.

“Yeah, I did. Planning to use that on me?” he asks. You glance down at the gun in your hand, and laugh, putting it down.

“No - sorry, I just - can never be too careful.”

He nods, a mutual understanding shared between the two of you. You step back, not even needing him to ask to be invited in, bolting the door behind him.

You hadn’t heard from him in weeks, but that’s typical - you only reach out when you need each other. Though, he usually at least prefaces his visits with a phone call.

“What’s going on -”

You don’t get a chance to finish, because his lips are on yours, hands holding your face to pull you close to him. You let your eyes flutter shut, kissing him back with a bit of desperation - he tastes like menthol cigarettes, and the flavor of gum he likely just chewed to try and cover it up.

Your arms wrap around his neck, pulling his body impossibly closer to yours - you’ve only managed to make it a few feet inside the doorway. It nearly kills you to pull away, just to look at him.

“Are you okay?” you ask quietly.

He nods, lips slightly swollen from yours.

“Yeah - I - it’s all good. Just had a long day.”

You raise an eyebrow.

“Long how?”

You know what Baron gets up to when you don’t see him - you and him are alike, in that way. You rarely go into the details of each other’s misdeeds - except, perhaps, the occasions when he shows up to your place with a sack full of cash, begging for you to get him a car, or a weapon, or a fake ID - whatever he needs. You’re always happy to oblige - it’s your specialty, after all. You’re even the one who taught him how to hotwire, even though he’ll never admit that. Sometimes he comes for a few days, just to lay low - you’ve done the same, just a few times. Only when he’s passing through, trying to throw someone off of his trail. But something is different this time.

He just shakes his head.

“You’ll find out in tomorrow’s papers, I’m sure.”

You nod in understanding.

“Were you followed?”

“No - don’t think so. Pretty sure I shook them back in Alabama.”

You just bring your hand up to card it through his hair, chuckling.

“Almost didn’t recognize you,” you say.

“Do you like it?”

You can’t help but smile.

“Oh, yeah - it’s really nice. Kind of… sexy, actually.”

He smirks, his face reddening a bit.

“Well, if I had known you’d say that, I would’ve done it a long time ago.”

“Does it… is this anything to do with your long day?”

He just nods solemnly, his eyes never leaving yours.

“Okay,” you say - it’s enough information, for now. “So… I’m guessing you’re not here just to hide out, are you?”

The corner of his mouth twitches, fighting another smirk.

“No.”

Then you’re kissing him again, pulling him down by his shirt collar. He sighs against your lips, wrapping his arms around you as his tongue enters your mouth.

“Bedroom,” you murmur, bringing him with you as you step backwards down the hallway.

You stumble through the doorway together, never pulling your lips away from one another. He’s holding your face in his hands again, gently, as if he’s worried you might break. It’s a contrast from his mouth, rough and demanding against yours.

You reach for his leather jacket, helping him shoulder it off and throw it on the floor.

“Need you,” he grumbles. “I - I just -”

“It’s okay,” you say, placing a finger on his lips.

There’s always been a mutual understanding between you two, ever since he first came to you two years ago, looking for a car and a gun. You hadn’t questioned why - in your line of “work,” you never did. But, there was something else, too - your lifestyles made it impossible to do this with anyone else. Other people were dangerous - they asked too many questions. Baron, on the other hand… you know it’s not even his real name. He doesn’t know yours, either - it’s better that way. Pseudonyms keep things easier, and make this only one, incredibly small part of your life. Sometimes, all you needed from each other was someone to touch, to hold. Still, it doesn’t change how much you miss him every time he disappears on you.

But he’s here now, and he wants you - no, needs you, in his words.

So you start unbuttoning his shirt, kissing his neck as you do. He groans, hand coming up to cup the back of your head and pull your lips back to his.

He pushes you back gently, leading you to the bed until the backs of your knees are hitting the mattress.

You fall back a bit gracelessly, and he follows you, reaching desperately for the hem of your oversize t-shirt. You oblige, pulling it over your head to reveal your breasts to him.

“No bra?” he asks, grinning.

“I was about to go to sleep, until you -”

And he’s kissing you again, hand pressed against the small of your back. It begins to wander, calloused hands brushing against your soft skin, covering the expanse of your back until he comes around to cup your breasts. You kiss him desperately, gasping as he toys with your nipples. You bury your face in his neck, your sensitive buds hardening under his touch.

“You like that, baby?” he coos. You just moan into his skin, reaching down to fumble with his belt buckle.

It’s not long until you’ve rid each other of all your other clothes, and he’s pushed you back onto the mattress, crawling over you.

He smiles down at you, face hovering inches from yours.

“Hi,” he whispers.

“Hey.”

“I just - thanks.”

“For what?” you ask.

“Always answering the door, picking up the phone, just - saving my ass, over and over again.”

“It’s what we do,” you say, pulling him down for another kiss. “We help each other.”

“You’re really helpin’ me right now,” he says, chuckling.

Then he’s reaching down, his fingers brushing against your cunt, and you gasp.

“Need to touch you, baby,” he murmurs, coating his fingers in your slick as he runs them along your slit. He’s kissing down your body, slowly, and you feel yourself shiver with anticipation. You sigh, letting your head fall back against the pillow.

“Spread ‘em for me - that’s it - been thinkin’ about this pussy all day -”

Your legs fall open, giving Baron’s fingers full access.

“So fuckin’ wet - just relax, baby -”

He begins circling your clit with his thumb, his other hand planted on your hip to keep you pinned against the mattress. He slips a finger inside, and you moan, involuntarily clenching around him as he adds a second one.

“You like that?” he murmurs. You just whine, bucking against his hand as he pumps his fingers into you.

“‘Course you do - I know just what you like - fuck, look at you,” he says, continuing to work you open with his fingers.

You moan, writhing as you feel pleasure coarse through you, his fingers so much larger than your own - only for it to stop, suddenly.

He doesn’t even give you a chance to whine in protest, because his mouth is on you, tongue swirling around your clit. You cry out, back arching at the feeling of his mouth, pillow-soft and lapping at you like you’re his last meal.

“So fuckin’ sweet,” he murmurs against your cunt, licking a long line up your slit. You moan, his hands holding your hips to the bed as he eats you out. He focuses his tongue back on your clit, swirling circles around it as his hand comes back, slipping two fingers back into you with ease.

He grins against your skin at the sound of your whines when he adds a third finger, pumping in and out of you at an unrelenting pace.

You find your own hands wandering, running your fingers through his hair and gripping, pulling him closer. You’re not used to it being so short, but it still serves its purpose all the same. He groans as you pull on the chestnut strands.

“I’m close,” you breathe, feeling your face flush, your heart thudding in your chest. There’s pressure building in your core, ready to snap at any moment. He just hums, the vibration against your cunt pushing you even closer to the edge.

It takes one more circle of his tongue over your clit, and you’re done for - you’re bucking your hips into his face, tugging harshly on his hair as you see stars behind your eyelids. You scream as the pleasure washed over you, the orgasm intense and white-hot. He works you through your high, continuing to lap and lick at you, gradually slowing down as your whole body shakes. It’s almost too much, but you can’t even find the words to ask him to stop. By the time he removes his fingers from you, you’re a mess. You feel boneless, certain you'll sink all the way through the mattress if you aren’t careful.

Your breathing is deep and labored, not even able to form words as Baron presses soft kisses to your inner thigh. He brings himself back up over you, kissing you fiercely. You still faintly taste yourself on him, and smile into his mouth.

“You good?” he asks, smiling smugly.

You nod, still a bit breathless. “Fuck - yeah, so good.”

He kisses you again, his mouth glistening with you as you feel his hard cock press against your stomach.

“Not gonna lie - not sure if I’ll last long,” he whispers. “Just kind of wanted to make sure you felt good first, just in case -”

“It’s fine,” you assure. “Don’t worry - I’ve got you.”

You don’t worry about coming again, not really - he needs you, needs this. You never ask each other questions, but you know something must have happened that’s set him over the edge. So, you just kiss him, and hold him close as he lines up with your entrance.

He groans as he pushes into you, his cock stretching you out. You gasp, digging your fingernails into his back as he fully bottoms out, still not quite used to his size after all this time.

He wastes no time, and you don’t mind - you’re still wet and sensitive from your previous orgasm, and he begins pounding into you at a relentless pace.

You moan under him, bring your hips up to meet his thrusts. THe room is just filled with the sounds of moans and labored breaths, the slapping of skin, and the scent of sex. He’s everywhere, grunting and groaning as he thrusts.

The feeling of him is exquisite, his cock feeling like it was made for you as it drags deliciously along your walls.

“Takin’ me so well,” he manages, voice strained. “So fuckin’ good - fuckin’ love your pussy -”

You just mewl and whine, burying your face into his neck and sucking on the skin there. It might bruise, but you don’t care - he moans at the feeling, and picks up the pace a bit. He’s already close, you can tell. Pleasure courses through your own body, pulsing through you as he fucks you.

“Oh god -” you moan, heat building in your core. “Baron, baby - fuck, right there - fuck -”

“Needed this - the whole time I was in there - I wanted to get out, just for you - had to see you again -”

You’re not sure what he’s talking about, but you let him ramble - he always gets talkative when he’s about to finish.

“Where -” he breathes, aware of how dangerously close he is to finishing inside you.

“I - ah! Fuck - tummy’s fine - or tits, or wherever -”

He’s pulling out in a flash, his hand coming up to furiously stroke his cock. He only has to jerk himself for a few seconds, then he’s shuddering, hips stilting into his hand as he cums. You feel his hot cum hit your stomach, warm and sticky on your skin. He groans as he finishes, his hot ropes pooling onto your belly and dripping down your sides a bit. He collapses next to you, breathless.

Your heart is racing, chest heaving as you stare at the ceiling. You both lay in silence for a few moments, before he rolls out of bed and heads out the door of your bedroom. He returns a moment later, a washcloth in his hand.

“This okay? Found it in your cabinet.”

You nod, taking it from him to wipe his cum off of you. He lays back beside you, turning on his side to look at you.

“You okay?” he asks. You meet his eyes, and nod.

“Yeah - I’m fine. That was good,” you say, wiping some of his hair off of his sweaty forehead.

“Think I need to shower for the rest of this,” you sigh, tossing the soiled washcloth aside.

“God - a shower sounds amazing,” he mutters. “I haven’t - haven’t had the luxury of taking a good one in a hot minute.”

You grin, sitting up. “Well… in the interest of saving water -”

“Right behind you,” he says quickly, practically sprinting behind you as you head down the hallway towards the bathroom.

*****

You both took your time in the shower, the hot water a sweet relief for both of you. It takes longer than it should have, since he insists on making you cum on his fingers to make up for not getting you there when he fucked you. And, who were you to deny him that?

It’s only later, when you’re both clean and dried and back in your bed, that you start to actually feel tired. The clock on your bedside reads 3:42 AM. You feel yourself drifting off, Baron by your side beneath the covers.

“You staying the night?” you ask sleepily - never a guarantee with him.

“Mm,” he says. “If that’s alright.”

“Yeah - fine. You staying for a while?”

“Not sure,” he replies honestly.

Neither of you ever make promises to one another - he could disappear tomorrow, and you may not hear from him for months. But he’s here now, warm and solid beside you. You curl into his side, and you feel him relax a bit.

As you drift off, you can almost swear you hear him say I missed you.

In the morning, he’s gone. By the time sunlight is filtering through the curtains, there’s just a cold spot in the bed where he used to be.

You try to push down the disappointment - you’ve done the same to him, after all, more times than either of you can count. Still - sometimes he stays. Sometimes.

The only evidence that he had been here at all is a jar of marmalade left on your kitchen counter - homemade by his mother, according to him. And, your favorite thing to have on toast. When you pick up the jar and look at it, you can’t help but smile.

When the newspaper gets delivered to your door later that day, everything suddenly makes sense.

It’s just a local paper, never much news of note in it. You mostly read it for the crime blotter, hoping that they don’t have too many details on the nearby stolen cars or goods, knowing if you need to move soon before you’re caught.

But, instead, crime is on the front page - one that you know all too well:

BABYDOLL BANDIT BREAKS FREE FROM PRISON, STILL AT LARGE

You laugh, reading in the article how the armed robbery suspect somehow cleverly evaded a federal task force, and how - of course - the suspect is, in fact, male, and not the woman they thought had been chasing for two years. But you knew that already - you’re perhaps the only person who had known that.

Everything about his behavior the night before suddenly makes sense - his desperation, his exhaustion - and, of course, his disappearing act this morning.

You sip your coffee as you read the paper, rolling your eyes.

He’ll be back, you know that. But for now, you just silently root for him to make it - he’s probably in a new getaway car now, on his way to hide out in a new town, if not a new state.

You take a sip of coffee, and a bite of your marmalade toast. Then, you turn on the television - if you’re lucky, you’ll get another glance of Baron’s face on the news, until he calls you again.

author's note: Happy Valentine's Day, y'all. I have Marmalade brainrot, so I figured I'd write this little blurb while I work on other fics. Love y'all! (Dedicated to @chateaudjo and @djoworlds)

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allwaswell16 · 2 months

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All the One Direction fics I read and enjoyed in March 2024. You can listen to my podcast to hear me talk about each of these fics as well as an overview of what was posted on ao3 including the fics on this month’s fic roundup [ @1dmonthlyficroundup ] which you can find here! Please let the writers know if you liked the fics by leaving kudos and comments! Happy reading!

Fanfictional Podcast #60 | ko-fi | fic recs

- Louis/Harry -

☁️ you were in my dream by staybeautiful / @harruandlou

(E, 60k, acquaintances to lovers) Louis woke up after having a sexy dream about his best friend’s boyfriend’s best friend resolved to never think about it again. He hardly knew Harry, so what difference would it make? But when they are thrown together only a few days later, Louis had to admit, his subconscious might have been onto something.

☁️ Always a Bridesmaid by @kingsofeverything

(E, 29k, age difference) The night before his best friend’s wedding, Harry falls into bed with a silver haired stranger who makes him wonder what his own forever might look like.

☁️ Behind Smoke Stained Curtains by @jaerie

(E, 19k, omegaverse) The worlds align when Louis meets an alpha from the road with as many secrets as he holds himself.

☁️ The Room Thief by @2tiedships2

(NR, 15k, omegaverse) When Louis comes home and is confronted by his knothead alpha flatmates, he knows it won’t result in anything good, but he didn’t expect to be left homeless, effective immediately. He definitely didn’t expect to fall for the specific knothead who stole his room.

☁️ Simmer Down and Pucker Up by @silverstuff50

(E, 9k, exes) When Louis' sister invites his ex to her wedding Louis is not a happy bunny. But his friends are wankers and their meddling causes the sort of drama that Louis would usually beat the crap out of them for. Usually...

☁️ and then, i wait there for you by punk_pillow_princess / @punkpillowprincess

(M, 9k, established relationship) Harry has always dreamed of having his “happily ever after”, but hasn't found the right one yet. Suddenly, he meets Louis.

☁️ you can be my lover, i can be your love by @wildhalos

(M, 9k, canon m/f) the one where Louis may have accidentally fondled his best friend, and it's not weird unless they make it weird. Harry's almost positive. She swears.

☁️ What we parted ways with by louisismycat / @liminalkittyfics

(M, 6k, exes) Alpha Harry is surprised to see omega Louis at his matchmaker’s cocktail party for millionaires. Years ago when they were together, Louis loathed schmoozefests with rich people.

☁️ That’s the way love goes by bella28

(T, 4k, soulmate goose!) In a world, where soulmate geese are sent to the people who can't figure out who their soulmate is, Harry finds himself stuck with a goose when he is attending a concert of his favourite artist Louis Tomlinson.

☁️ Stand Not in Front or Behind by LadyLondonderry / @londonfoginacup

(NR, 4k, omegaverse) Harry Styles always knew his purpose in life was to be a pawn in an arranged marriage to assure allegiances. He never actually put much thought into his future partner.

☁️ Pussy Juice by @homosociallyyours

(M, 4k, girl direction) While she manages to dodge the bar's "special" drink, the Pussy Juice shot, she can't avoid the feelings that come up when her former teacher (and teen crush), Louis joins her and her friends for the night.

☁️ pretty please? by @disgruntledkittenface

(E, 3k, girl direction) Harry gets impatient for her Valentine’s Day present.

☁️ Lipstick Like Dynamite by LetTheMusicMoveYou / @letthemusicmoveyou28

(E, 3k, established relationship) the one where Louis is a professional football player who loves seeing his boyfriend in lipstick, a fact that Harry likes to use to his advantage

☁️ Green Coffee and Morning People by @insightfulinsomniac

(T, 3k, uni) Louis has a crush on the prettiest boy he’s ever seen — the curly-haired guy who sits next to him in his Community Psych class and brings strangely-colored drinks to class with him each day.

☁️ You are so gorgeous (it makes me so mad) by @dreaminrainbows

(M, 2k, pining) Louis is a hot bartender and Harry is pathetically in love with him

☁️ When you look at me like that, my darlin', what did you expect? by INnenaHeart / @thechavier

(M, 1k, sexuality crisis) Louis realizes he's into men because of a long hair, chelsea boots wearing, Harry

☁️ The Devil's Hour by silverkiiwii / @tomlinsins

(NR, 1k, established relationship) Harry and Louis are going on their first roadtrip and they have very different interpretations of what leaving in the morning means.

- Rare Pairs -

☁️ Unplanned Circumstances by @haztobegood

(E, 8k, Zayn/Louis) Zayn has worked his whole life to be one of the top spies in the Agency. When he returns from his latest mission, the unexpected reappearance of a one-night-stand could change everything. Part 1 of Unplanned Circumstances

☁️ Baby, I'm Right Here by @enchantedlandcoffee

(T, 1k, Zayn & Louis) The one where Zayn and Louis are best friends and, after much prompting from their family members, try and give dating a go.

☁️ if it feels like love (then it must be love) by localopa / @voulezloux

(G, 1k, Niall/Shawn Mendes) niall and shawn are in love. if they could both realize this, that would be lovely.

#ficrec #28th appreciation #1dficvillage #hlcreators #hljournal #trackinghome #trackinghappily #ficsfor4am #hltracks

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goldenbuckyyy · 1 year

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YOU’RE ALL I WANT

Summary: You and Harry finally reconnect.

Pairings: Harry Styles x fem!Reader

Word Count: 5.7kish

Warnings: Over 3k of smut!! Oral (fem! & male!receiving), fingering, allure to squirting, raw sex, creampie, slight fem!reader!Dom/subrry vibes if you squint!! 🤏🏻

A/N: Hi!! Sorry this has taken so long! The holidays were very crazy and work has been… just as crazy as always! But she’s here and I hope you love her as much as I do.. because I love her!! I’m also going to be tagging anybody who mention needing part 2 since it’s been a while!! Also, this is probably the last part! Song title inspo: “You’re all I want” by Cigarettes After Sex

Divider is by @silkholland!! I love your divider so much! Thank you for allowing us to use them. 🫶🏻

All my mistakes are my own. Please do not repost or translate my fics on any other site nor this one.

I appreciate any likes, reblogs, messages, and interactions. Please message me your thoughts!!! It fuels me!

PART 1 || Main Masterlist

May 20th, 2022.

You tapped your fingers on your countertop as you watched the time slowly trickle by.

3:03PM.

Watching how slow the time was going felt almost agonizing.

You let out a groan as you felt as if time had never gone by any slower. You were still in your pajamas, sipping on your door dashed iced latte, stomach still full of your late morning breakfast, and you felt nervous. Nauseated, almost.

So nervous about seeing Harry tonight that you almost wanted to throw up. And you knew you didn’t have to feel this nervous, but it’s been almost a year that you haven’t seen him. It’s normal to feel this way. You can’t help it.

Harry’s album had already been out since midnight and you had to physically restrain yourself from listening to it. You wanted tonight to be the first night you listened to all of his new songs.

Either way, you knew they were going to be amazing.

You had also already chosen your outfit for the night. Which surprisingly had taken you so long to put together.

Simply because you wanted to look your absolute best tonight.

You searched throughout Twitter for concert inspiration and for any ideas that would help you. You knew fashion. You worked in fashion. You had your own famous fashion line and you still had no idea what to wear to this concert.

You’ve been to plenty of his concerts before. You even remember the outfits you wore to one direction concerts and it secretly made you cringe. Flashbacks of textured shorts and frail crop tops fill your mind.

But now.. now you wanted to surprise him and feel good. It’s been way too long since you had seen Harry's face and you missed him.

So, you did what you do best and you made your own outfit.

You ended up making a black jumpsuit with an amazing sequin fabric which covered every inch of it. It was long enough to pair with your favorite platform heeled boots that were comfy enough to be standing a long period of time in. You made the top of the jumpsuit have a cross neck fixture with a triangle opening right underneath your sternum and you made the back to match.

Now, it was just time for the clock to strike five for you to start to get ready.

So, here you are. Fiddling with your phone to try and pass the time faster.

You hop off the stool and move to your private sunroom in your penthouse that overlooks the river. You bask in the sun on your skin and wonder how tonight will go.

Hopefully everything goes well and Harry’s only expression when he sees you is happiness.

You can only hope.

You tug on your oversized silk blazer as you walk down the backstage hallway of MSG with Jeff by your side.

“Harry might shit himself when he sees you,” Jeff says to you with wild eyes and a loud laugh as you try and match his fast pace down the hall.

You let out your own nervous one as you fix your hair for the millionth time as you follow him.

“Don’t worry. I just might, too.”

You weren’t lying. You genuinely felt sick to your stomach. You had decided to wait until you knew that Harry would already be almost going on to text Jeff that you were waiting at the back entrance for him. Just so he wouldn’t be able to tell Harry you were here.

“The concert already started, but don’t freak. It just started,” Jeff says casually as you start to see the flashing lights from behind the curtain.

You still for a second right before you pass the curtain to let out a shaky breath. Reminding yourself to calm down. That it’s only Harry.

Jeff’s hands are suddenly touching your shoulders and he’s giving you a reassuring smile.

“Don’t be nervous. He’s going to be happy to see you. Trust me.”

You nod quickly and your senses are suddenly filled with loud screams. Thousands and thousands of people screaming for Harry. For your Harry and it makes your heart warm.

You follow Jeff to the side of the main stage behind a barricade, but in perfect view of Harry. And your eyes start to water as soon as you see him.

He’s wearing an adorable white shirt that’s lined with red hearts, black leather figure hugging pants, red sneakers, and a big chunky yellow necklace.

You cover your mouth to hold in your own cry, quickly shaking off the nerves as you settle into the spot next to Jeff, and you zone out as you admire Harry in his zone.

The way the music completely takes over his body and his actions. The way you can tell he lets the music get into his bones by the way he lets it take over and how he dances. The way he lets himself be free in a room filled with people that love him. People that you know he loves. His fans. His wonderful, amazing, love filled fans.

The way he smiles, laughs, and giggles so hard his dimples end up showing. And how he looks so freaking happy it makes you want to burst into tears.

You can easily tell this is his favorite thing to do. Just by looking at him. He’s the type of person that you can just watch and admire because everything he does leaves you in awe.

And that’s exactly how you feel.

Then, at the right moment when he’s prancing around the stage, and running on your side of the stage.. he glances down to look at Jeff and then he sees you.

You both lock eyes at the same time and he trips on his own feet, halting in front of you, and the screaming only intensifies when he breaks out into the biggest smile you’ve seen on him all night.

His hands immediately go to his heart and you see his eyes water as you smile back at him with matching watery eyes. He reaches for you with a small “Hi” leaving his lips and you mouth it back. You can tell he wants to say something else, but he quickly shakes his head with a grin and goes back to dancing around the stage.

You can hear fans calling out your name from around you as now they’ve noticed you. You look around, giving a small wave at the fans near you, and they shriek when you look at them.

You blush under their gazes as it never gets any less weird for you that people actually know who you are. But feeling grateful nonetheless.

Harry makes his way to your corner of the stage after he sings probably the saddest song you’ve ever heard and smiles at you as he settles himself with the microphone stand.

“Now this next song… this next song is incredibly special to me. One of my favorites actually. And…” he pauses and takes in a shaky breath. “The person who inspired this song is actually here tonight.”

The crowd goes wild. Loud cheers surrounding your entire body. You feel lightheaded as you watch Harry on stage.

Watching you.

He gives you a small smile and continues, “This person.. has been my best friend for almost a decade now. We actually met at a Halloween party many many years ago. Her best friend is actually the person I spilled my beer on,” you both chuckle at his words, “I’m getting off track here. But I just want to say that this person is the one person that I absolutely adore. I adore her, I admire her, I respect her, I recognize her, and I love her.” His voice cracks at the last couple of words, his bottom lip quivering and his chin caving in, and tears pool his eyes.

Your eyes are filled with tears at hearing his speech to you and knowing that this is showing his vulnerable side. Which he has always struggled with. You clamp your hands together against your chin as you only smile up at him.

“This is ‘Little Freak’,” he says into the mic as the band starts playing a soft melody.

The first lyrics remind me of the incident in Italy last year and your heart silently hurts. You grip onto the railing in front of you as you listen closely to each lyric.

Finding yourself relating to each word and wanting to pull Harry into your embrace.

Did you dress up for Halloween? I spilled beer on your friend.. I’m not sorry.

You chuckle as you sniffle while slow tears fall down your cheeks and you quickly wipe them away. You watch him in awe as you hear everybody singing along to the lyrics. To a song that came out less than twenty four hours ago.

I disrespected you

Jumped in feet first, and I landed too hard

A broken ankle, karma rules

You never saw my birthmark

Okay. Maybe this is the saddest song you’ve ever heard. Harry holds out the microphone to his fans and gets overwhelmed when they’re singing back his lyrics so loudly. You laugh with joy at how happy he is.

“Thank you so much,” he says into the microphone with his voice wavering, but sounding so grateful.

Just thinkin' about you

He finishes singing the last lyric and he looks over at you with a smile. You smile back with a thumbs up and his dimples show.

The rest of the concert goes by so quickly you can’t even believe it’s been almost two hours since he started.

Every single one of his songs feels connected to you in some way and you wonder if you were in Harry’s thoughts when he wrote this album. You know ‘Little Freak’ is about you since he practically dedicated it to you before he sang it.. but you wonder about the rest.

A part of you doesn’t want to know.

Jeff is by your side as soon as Harry runs off the stage after doing his famous ‘Whale’ and glancing at you quickly.

Jeff wraps his arm around your shoulder, with a smile, he asks, “What’d you think?”

“He’s incredible.”

“That’s our boy.”

You hum in agreement and you both walk off backstage to the chaos that is the loud voices of people congratulating the band and Harry on a brilliant performance.

You stand in the background, watching Harry take each compliment with grace, a shake of each person's hand, and a dimpled smile on his face.

You watch him carefully, bouncing on your heeled boots, heart racing, fingers aching to feel Harry’s skin, and your body trying not to reach for him.

You smile softly when you notice his eyes searching the room and then they land on you. His expression changes to a mix of glowing happiness and absolute joy. He looks like a little kid that just got offered a lollipop at the dentist.

He politely excuses himself from the group he had just thanked and hastily makes his way towards you.

You open your arms to him on instinct, “Hi.”

His arms engulf you into his space, completely tucking you into his body, and you feel complete. His hands wrap around your torso, underneath your blazer, touching your skin, and your arms wrap around his neck. Your faces squeezing into each other’s necks and he whispers a breathy, “Hi.”

You melt into his embrace, smelling his cinnamon roll hair styling crème that he still uses, and it brings back a decade of memories for you. His strong arms squeeze you as he lifts you up off your toes and you can hear him inhaling your scent.

“God, I’ve missed you.”

You chuckle into his neck, “Me more.”

You both pull away at the same time, staring at each other, and you place your hand on his cheek. He leans into it with a small smile, beautiful glossy green eyes staring into yours, and you thumb his cheek.

“I’m sorry, H.” You confess with a soft tone, trying to hold your voice steady while your heart races inside of your chest.

“Don’t apologize. I’m the one that messed up, but.. c’mon.” He wraps his hand in yours, giving Jeff a small signal, and he starts to walk off towards his dressing room.

He leads you into the big dim-lighted room, shutting the door behind you, and locking it for privacy.

You stay in front of him, glancing at him and trying to see if you notice anything different about it.

But he’s still the same Harry. Right in front of you. Finally.

He pulls two cold waters from the mini fridge and hands one to you as he leads you both to the couch. You get comfortable as he kicks off his shoes, leaning into the green couch, and planting his feet on top of the coffee table. You sit back and admire him for a second before drinking some water.

After a moment of silence, he asks, “How have you been?”

“I’ve been good. Missed you tho.”

He smiles as he tucks his chin into his chest, arms crossing over his chest, “I did, too. More than you can imagine.”

“Yeah?” You question, playing with the rings on your fingers, and you look at him from underneath your lashes.

“Come here,” he says as he reaches for your hand. Your insides turn and you let him pull you into his lap. Your breathing hitches as he stares at your face, taking you in, and then his eyes land on your lips.

“Of course I’ve missed you. You’re my best friend,” he whispers into you as he slowly leans in and you close your eyes, waiting for his lips to touch yours.

“Do you still want me?” You blurt out bluntly, your eyes going wide, and you suddenly feel weak. You feel vulnerable. Insecure.

Harry tenses in front of you, his eyes going wide, and he searches for words. But nothing comes out. His eyebrows furr in confusion, “What? How-I… Are you serious? I was about to kiss you..”

You look down, ashamed at your question, and you feel him pull your face back up to meet his own eyes with his thumb.

“How could you ever think I wouldn’t want you?”

His eyes are sincere and full of concern. His body leans into yours, his arms that are holding you only grow tighter, and you wrap your arms around his neck limply.

You lean into his touch and try to smile. Your lips wavering when you say, “I.. I ignored you for months.”

“You had your reasons. I was awful to you. I said mean words to you that I should have taken back as soon as I had spoken them. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

His thumb caresses your cheek as you nod at him.

“I’m still sorry,” you say again as you kiss the inside of his palm.

“I have always wanted you.”

“What?” You say with a grin as he matches your own.

“I, Harry Styles, have always wanted you, Y/N L/N. Ever since the first moment I saw you. You are the most beautiful thing I have ever laid my eyes on and you continue being so.”

You let out a watery laugh as tears prick your eyes, you swat his chest playfully, “Stop! You’re making me cry!” You both laugh together as he places a big smooch on your cheek.

You giggle as he slowly starts to kiss your cheek and makes his way down to your lips.

His hands are holding your face when he leans back and asks you, “Can I kiss you?”

Before you can even finish nodding, his lips are on yours.

His lips feel soft and warm against yours. You both held your breath as he waited for you to respond to his kiss, his lips on yours, but full of hesitation.

You relax into his hands, letting yourself finally kiss him back, and a feeling of euphoria fills your body. You both moan into the kiss, tilting your heads for better access, and you pull at each other to feel closer together. He slides off your blazer and touches your naked arms, moaning at feeling your skin against his own.

Your tongue fights with Harry’s and you suck on his bottom lip with a moan. Your hands moving from the back of his warm neck to his curly hair, tugging at the roots, and filling with content when he groans into your mouth.

Harry lets go of your face and he’s moving your body over his own, adjusting himself onto the couch, and you plant yourself down on his hips. Feeling his hardening bulge against your core makes you feel hot. Your core aching in want and you grind against him.

You both meet again in the middle and kiss, lips lapping against each other, open mouthed moans, and pants filling the room. Slow hips grinding against each other.

In the rush of probably the hottest way you’ve ever kissed someone, he’s suddenly pulling away from your body completely.

Leaving your body aching for his touch and your skin feeling burned as his hands leave your waist.

You’re suddenly filled with confusion, furring your eyebrows, and peering up at H.

“What’s going on? Why’d you stop?” You pant out as you try to catch your breath.

H looks like he’s torn between a million emotions as he clutches his eyes in distress, a heavy breathe escaping his lips, and he’s shaking his head. Then.. he chuckles.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this..”

Your heart stops.

“But.. I don’t want our first time to be like this.”

Oh.

“Oh?” You question with a small smile as you sit up on his lap, adjusting your jumpsuit straps around your neck, and he’s leaning against the back of the couch… looking so adorable.

He looks almost shy right now and he blushes under your gaze.

“Yeah,” he says as he reaches for your hand and you let him. “I want our first time to be special. I want it to be in my bed or yours. And I want it…I just.. I don’t want to fuck you in this dressing room. I mean—“

You cut him off as your cheeks flush down to your neck at his words, “I have an apartment here.”

His eyebrows spike up in shock as he looks simultaneously confused, shocked, and you can tell he’s hurt that he doesn’t know about this major change in your life. You reach for his hand and squeeze it when he immediately grips onto yours. Trying to reassure him with your touch.

“Since when?”

“Fairly recent,” you say with a small smile playing on your sinful lips.

“Where?”

“The Copper,” you say with a glint of enthusiasm and he only matches you. Like always.

“You got an apartment there?” His eyes glint with a look of pride.

“I got the penthouse.”

The second that you both walk into your penthouse, Harry’s mouth and hands are on you. And you’re not complaining.

You throw off your blazer at the same time he kicks off his shoes.

His hands are all over the parts of your skin that isn’t covered and he stops when he finds the clasp around your neck. He swiftly unhooks your jumpsuit and you feel it fall over your shoulders and down your chest. Your breasts are now exposed and you feet the cold air brush against your nipples. Perking them up and making you gasp in pleasure.

He tugs on your jumpsuit which makes it pull around your waist and his hands move onto your breasts. He moans into your mouth when he feels them naked since you’re not wearing a bra or pasties. He thumbs your nipples and you whimper into him, licking the roof of his mouth, and sliding your hands underneath his shirt.

He manages to shove you against your couch and you both tumble on it, giggling into the kiss, and his hands are around your body to make sure you don’t hurt yourself.

You giggle as he kisses you, which only makes him giggle with you, and then you’re laying down on your couch. You pull away from him when you feel him get on his knees in front of you.

He slowly slides his hands underneath your jumpsuit, unzipping your boots, and tossing them to the floor. His eyes are only on you.

You watch him with want as he slips off his shirt, tossing it to the side, and you shimmy out of your jumpsuit. Tugging off your black thong with it.

Harry's lips are on yours again and he’s hungry. Kissing you deeply, his tongue fighting for dominance with your own, both moaning and panting, aching for each other, and he’s reaching down to unzip his pants.

Harry’s hands suddenly are off of your hips and his lips leave your own. You whine as you feel him pull away from you and you quickly open your eyes to watch him as he’s watching you, now sitting on his knees on the couch, and his eyes never leave yours.

He slowly lets his eyes wander down your naked body, fully taking in that this is the first time he’s ever seen you naked, and it makes you ache in ways you’ve never ached before. Makes your skin break out into goosebumps at the mere sight of him taking you in.

He stands up, shoving off his leather pants and his red briefs, and his long, thick dick makes an appearance. Your eyes go wide as you look at him, the first time truly looking at his dick, and your pussy only clenches with desire at the same time your mouth waters with want.

His dick is beautiful. Long, thick, and looking juicy. And waiting to fuck you up. His tip is leaking pre-cum already and it bounces with every movement he makes. He moves back to where he was sitting on his knees on the couch, admiring you as you admire him.

“Fuck,” he mutters out as he wipes his face with his hands before he sets them down on your ankles.

“What is it?” You whisper as you move your legs to open up in front of him, feeling your wetness coat your inner thighs, and he bites his bottom lip. His dick twitching in all its hardened glory. He’s almost fully leaking from the tip of his dick.

“You… are beautiful. Breathtaking.. and this is the first time I see you naked. I just wanna admire you,” he says as he pulls your ankle to his shoulder and kisses your shin. You smile as you let yourself spread out more for him as he starts kissing up your legs slowly and sinfully.

Your breathing hitches as he gets closer to your center, you're already antsy when he stops in your inner thigh, kissing both of them, licking them, and sucking small love bites onto them.

You massage your breasts as you lean your head down to get a better look at him.

“You’re glistening,” he mutters against your thigh, kissing right next to your aching pussy. You can help but moan out in want and anticipation. Your hips are getting a mind of their own as you try to hitch them towards his mouth and his eyes move towards yours.

“So inpatient,” he says as his cold fingers are suddenly touching your wet lips, pulling them open, and he spreads you to his liking.

“Oh my god,” you moan out at the sensation that overcomes your entire body at Harry finally touching you.

He moves himself in between your legs, pushing your thighs down on each side, and he lets his tongue slowly lick your pussy. You clench around him, you can’t fully believe that this is happening right now, and you twist your nipples in between your fingers. You tilt your head back in a pant when Harry slips two fingers inside of you.

“Fuck,” he groans out as he curves his fingers inside of you and your pussy only tightens around them. Your breathing has picked up and you can hear how absolutely drenched you are by the sound his fingers are making as he moves them in and out of your pussy.

Harry seems to only fuel himself more with your moans and panting because you feel him start to devour you. You gasp when you feel his tongue lick you from the bottom of your folds all the way to your clit where he swivels his tongue around it and sucks it into his mouth gently. The bundle of nerves makes the pit of your belly harden in pleasure, your back curving upwards, and your hands move into his curls to hold onto something. Anything.

You moan out his name when his fingers start thrusting inside of you, in and out. In and out. And then he picks up his pace, slightly, but making a big difference in how it fuels your impending orgasm.

His fingers continue to fuck you, his mouth devouring you, and his tongue is torturing you. In every possible way. You know this is going to be the best sex of your life. You know you’ll never be able to move on from this. You hope Harry will feel the same way, too.

His mouth moves skillfully against your pussy, his tongue flicking your clit in all the best ways, and you can feel the pressure slowly building up in your lower stomach.

Harry sucks onto your clit, making your legs start to shake slightly, and he inserts a third finger into you. You cry out in pleasure, your body feeling like it’s on fire, your skin is glistening with sweat, and you start to move your hips to match the pace of his mouth.

He doesn’t stop his movements. He only keeps going. His fingers fucking you like heaven, his moans sending shockwaves through your body, and then.. he moves his tongue into the right spot on your clit which makes you absolutely explode from underneath him.

You yell out his name, so loud that if you actually had neighbors on this floor, you’d be scared they’d come banging on your door for being so damn loud, and your eyes prick with tears from the amazing orgasm that overtakes you.

Your toes curl into the couch, fingers gripping onto his curls, entire body clenching and then releasing as you feel yourself soaking Harry's mouth and fingers, and he’s lapping up every single drop of your release. Moaning as you can see his thighs grinding into the couch.

You don’t even let your body come down from the high when you’re hastily moving from being underneath Harry to being on top of him, straddling him, and kissing him hard. Sucking his lips into yours and moaning when you can taste yourself on his tongue.

You kiss him for a couple seconds before you move down his stomach, licking his butterfly tattoo, sucking a couple love bites on his abs, and letting yourself make eye contact with him the entire time.

His pupils are blown out, lips plump and swollen, cheeks flushed bright pink, and he looks fucked.

“Fuck,” he pants out, his voice raspy and blissed out. And he can’t even react before you’re taking in his aching dick into your mouth. Fully deep-throating him that the tip is curving into the back of your throat. Your eyes water as you keep eye contact with him, your hands holding yourself steady against his fern tattoos, and his hands grip into your loose hair.

“Holy shit! You’re fucking-I-you’re fucking taking me all the way, baby!”

You preen at his words, bobbing your head on his dick, pulling up slowly to let your tongue lap over his tip, sucking off the pre-cum into your mouth, and moaning so that he feels every vibration in your throat on his dick. You can feel his dick twitching in pleasure inside of your mouth and it only fuels you to be better. You pick up your pace, nails digging into his hips, lapping him up, and everytime you go all the way down, you let your tongue lick his balls too.

Harry suddenly pulls your face off his dick and you whimper at the disconnection. You look at him with big, blown out pupils, and a stream of saliva connecting your lips with his dick.

He groans as his hands move down to your breasts, pinching your nipples, and then he thumbs your swollen lower lip to wipe off the mess.

“‘M gonna cum if you keep suckin’ me off like that, honey.” His voice is breathless as he cups your face, pulling you up easily, and connecting your lips with his. Your wet core lands on his fat, aching dick, and you already need him inside of you.

You’re aching for him.

You kiss each other roughly, hands all over each other, and you start hitching your hips higher trying to align yourself with his dick. You can feel his dick fluttering in between your folds, wetting him up even more, and then you feel your opening align with his dick. You shift your hips a little bit more and you feel the head of his dick right where you want him.

You lower down onto his pulsating dick and he groans into your mouth. His hands immediately find your hips, holding you steady as you try to lower yourself more, only being halfway.

“God, you’re so fuckin’ tight right now. So fucking tight, give me a second..” He moans even louder as he allows you to lower yourself even more until your pelvis meets his own. You steady yourself on his chest, tightening your arms against your breast, and smiling wickedly at Harry’s expression which only shows pleasure.

You slowly start to move against his hips, slowly bouncing on his dick as his tight grip on your hips help you move, and you can feel how desperate he is for you. How much he’s wanted this. How much you’ve been wanting this.

He slowly starts moving his hips underneath you, quickly changing the pace from slow and sultry to fast and rough. The sound of slapping skin fills the entire penthouse, your moans mixing with his own, and your hands are touching him everywhere.

“You feel so good,” you whimper out to him as you lick the curves of his neck as he pulls you into his chest as he hitches his hips to fuck into you like this.

“You were made for me,” he whimpers back as his arms wrap around your waist.

His thrust only increases in speed in this position. His dick filling you up completely, like nobody ever has, touching every inch of your walls, and your wetness only allows him to fuck into you faster.

You feel the familiar feeling building up in your belly, you lick and suck his earlobe, “I’m so close.”

He quickly turns you over, so that your body is laying on the couch now, his dick never exiting you, and now he hitches your legs to wrap around his waist. He presses down against our belly and it only fuels your climax.

“Oh my fuckin’—” you cry out as you feel Harry fucking you hard and him pushing against your cervix seems to increase the sensations.

“Feel me up here, huh?” He groans out as he continues to push into you at a rough speed which you can only nod, feeling absolutely fucked, and he moves his free hand to your clit. Moving his thumb in circles roughly against it which triggers your orgasm.

You clench around his dick, crying out loud, your entire body breaking out into goosebumps, and instant satisfaction floods you. You tighten your legs around Harry, pulling him into you, waiting for him to cum too, and he’s looking like a fucking god above you.

His curls falling around his face, sweat glistening his toned body and his forehead, fucked out, bright flushed pink cheeks, and you don’t know what comes over you…

You reach forward as he fucks you and you place your hand aound his neck, holding the sides, avoiding the center, and his eyes go wide.

His eyes instantly meet yours and his lips part in shock. And you keep moving your body against his, letting him use you completely, and then.. you squeeze around his neck.

His eyes roll back into his head, biting his bottom lip, fucking you rough and hard, and you know he’s about to cum. You squeeze his throat harder and your free hand reaches underneath his neck to tug his curls.

He lets out the loudest, gut-wrenching moan of the night, and his thrusts start turning animalistic, when he yells out, “Fuckkk!!”

He continues to thrust into you as he reaches his peak, filling you up completely, and you both are a panting mess as you both start coming down from your orgasms.

Harry flops onto your chest, but holding himself up with his forearms on your sides. You giggle as you can still feel his dick inside of you, but you wrap your arms around his neck.

He lifts his head, panting, and eyes glistening. He smiles at you, bunny teeth showing, and dimples carving his cheeks.

“That was…” he stops as if he can’t even find the words, but who are you kidding? You can’t either.

“It was,” you agree as you kiss his forehead.

“That was very much long overdue,” he states with a teasing grin and you playfully pinch his forearm. He laughs into your neck before giving you a soft kiss.

“How long are you here for?” You ask, not really wanting to ask, but you know you should.

“I’m here as long as you are.”

You furr your eyebrows in confusion, lips parting with a question, and he shushes you.

“I’m not letting you leave my sight ever again.”

He places a million kisses over your face, you swat him away with giggles, and then hold his face in your hands. Eyes locking.

“Does this mean we’re boyfriend and girlfriend?” You tease.

“Shit, I’d marry you tomorrow if you’d let me.”

Your eyes glint with amusement and so do his.

“Who says I wouldn’t?” You whisper at him, playing with his curls in your fingers. And he attacks you with another million kisses.

You could get used to this.

And you think you just might.

“So, where’s that secret birthmark of yours?”

@that-daydream-look @harrysfolklore @b-reads-things @tbslnightly @noseyrosey1597 @alwayslovingharry @alreadyjackbestfriend @cevansssss @1cedteaa @feestyles @you-sunshine @awesomebooklover17 @aruima

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nonexistent-introvert · 11 months

Text

Alternate Reminder pt 2

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x f!reader

Word count: 3k

Content: Miguel sees you again, confessions, hurt with comfort. Read part 1 before this (it's better trust me)

A/N: I didn't expect part 1 to get such an overwhelming response so here's the long-awaited part 2. its 1am, i got carried away. not proofread im gnaa paass out

Part 1

It felt weird being a spectator to Miguel’s debriefs. Your legs swung below you while you were perched on a ledge. Miguel was standing a few feet away, giving a debrief to the spidermen that had tagged along for the mission. Peter was sneaking glances at you, his face dramatically emphasising how naggy Miguel was. Jess nudged him in the ribs, urging him to pay attention before Miguel loses his patience and snap, causing the debrief to go on for even longer. You chuckled lightly at his antics.

It was weirder to see Miguel again. The last time you had seen him was when you quit. His hair has grown longer, the ends curling like you remembered. His hands moved while he emphasised on certain points he was making. A smile formed on your lips when you saw him gesture to the buildings in the city. Undoubtedly, talking about the rules of multiversal travel. Especially the rule that Spidermen were not supposed to be spotted swinging around another dimension without their mask on. Despite sitting a few feet away, far enough to be unable to hear what Miguel was saying, his words that were drilled into your mind after several mission debriefs gave you a hint of what he was talking about. You shook your head, you were no longer a member of the spider society. It should be of no concern to you what they were talking about, In an attempt to distract yourself from them, you pulled out your phone from a compartment in your suit. The screen lit up to reveal the date and time.

Miguel’s birthday was 4 days ago. You furrowed your eyebrows at that thought. His birthday hasn’t bothered you ever since you quit. Maybe it was because he was standing in a few feet away from you which reminded you of his birthday. It wasn’t like Miguel was ever one for birthdays. You stared at the frowning Miguel.

Yeah, he definitely forgot his own birthday and spent it drowning in work in his lab. An amused grin crossed your features when you remembered the times you would remind him of his own birthday. Sometimes even bringing him a cake. Miguel would pinch his nose in annoyance, claiming that you were wasting his time. Every year without fail, you would appear at his office just to celebrate his birthday for him, just to get on his nerves. Until you quit that is.

To annoy him, that was the reason behind every action you did for him. The actions ranging from making him a coffee, celebrating his birthday. These actions weren’t annoying. The only thing that was annoying was the remarks that you made upon doing all this for him. Miguel is also the only person in the world who seemed to be allergic to sweet actions. A seed of doubt formed in your heart, was it really just to annoy him? Or was there something more?

Miguel trailed off, his eyes meeting yours. There was a genuine amused smile on your face while you stared at him. His heart skipped a beat, it’s been so long since he actually felt your gaze on him. Although you seem to be in a daze to notice that he was staring back at you. He wondered what you were thinking about. He envied whatever made you so happy. Jess cleared her throat, Peter tried to stifle the smile on his face as they noticed what caught Miguel’s attention. At the same time, you finally noticed the heavy pair of eyes staring back at you. You almost fell off the ledge you were sitting on, quickly averting your gaze away from Miguel. Miguel cleared his throat awkwardly before returning to his debrief. You suddenly felt self conscious of yourself as you quickly pulled your mask over your face.

You rid yourself of the memories and tried to stop your heart from fluttering. “You just reminded him of someone he loved” you repeated to yourself, reminding yourself that you would only get hurt, that you would only live in someone else shadow if you did let yourself fall.

Almost, there was a time where you were so close to falling for Miguel. You shifted uncomfortably at the thought. You were never good at expressing your won feelings and neither was he. Despite the constant annoyance and hatred the both of you had for each other, there were times where you would like to think that beneath all that was love. The kind of love you see in old couples, those couples who bicker over the smallest things but would give their life for each other. Your heart clenched, turns out it was all a lie. Those looks, those feelings you thought he reciprocated, it was for another version of you.

Yet again, the word ‘almost’ is the saddest word in the dictionary. It gives birth to hope and the question of ‘what if?’ and those constantly leads to the disappointment you were already so used to. You shook your head, it wasn’t right to say that you loved him but you almost did. Miguel O’Hara was someone you knew you could love if you let yourself, it was completely natural to think of a possibility where you would wake up next to him and spend the rest of your life with him. Forgiveness comes easily when you let yourself think of the possibility,but you would never let yourself have to live in someone’s shadow, you respected yourself more than that. The breadth of ambiguity makes your breath hitch in anticipation, like you’re awaiting a fall when you reach the peak in a rollerocaster. How could you let go of someone you never even had?

You snapped out of your thoughts when you felt Peter’s arm over your shoulder. “What got you looking like a sad puppy?” Peter laughed. You forced a smile for your friend, brushing your thoughts off. Miguel would never come back to your universe for you, you never would have to see him again and yet your heart aches.Seeing him once today was enough to undo the years of effort you had put into forgetting about his existence. Miguel O’Hara is indeed a powerful man. Jess appeared beside you, creating small talk with you. She quickly nudged Peter who clicked his tongue in annoyance, until Peter noticed who was standing behind Jess. “I guess I’ll get going now! I’ll visit you some time again!” Peter quickly unhooked his arm from over your shoulder, laughing nervously as he glanced at Miguel. “What-” You let out an exhale, wondering what had gotten into Peter while Jess drags him away.

Miguel’s mind went blank as he stood in front of you. The sunset that casted a golden glow onto your face was not helping things either as it highlighted all the features on your face. Upon noticing the huge shadow in front of you, you cursed internally. You should have left early. You watched as the spidermen slowly disappear into portals except for Miguel who still stood in front of you, also waiting till it was just the two of you.

“You came.” There was a hint of disbelief and surprise in Miguel’s voice.

“You called.” you replied without missing a beat. Miguel’s eyes widened at your response, he expected the ‘it was for work’ or that it was because the anomaly was in your own universe (of course you had to be there). Your response made his heart flutter, there was no sarcasm in your tone, only your true feelings. You swallowed, you were terrified at your own response. Knowing full well that you were being vulnerable in front of him. However, you couldn’t find it in yourself to deny how you felt about him. The excitement and anxiety that filled you when you stared at the call titled ‘Miguel’. How your breath hitched upon hearing his voice after years and how your heart lifted at the thought that he remembered you.

=======

It was foolish to invite him to your home. It was like walking straight into the lion’s den. Your home was your safe place and where you were most vulnerable. The late nights you spent patching yourself up, the grim reaper knocking at your door. The days where you broke down in the privacy of your home. Now, the man who already makes you vulnerable is standing here in your sanctuary.

Miguel’s eyes flickered from one corner to another, trying to absorb every detail of your home. A smile tugged on his lips, the places where you spent the most time at, were the messiest. The desk at your study reflected the one in headquarters. The shelves with books about science and technology were messily stacked and squeezed onto the shelves. The only shelf which contained storybooks was neat and tidy. Although there was a layer of dust slowly settling on the top of those books. The walls were decorated with pictures of you and your friends, one single picture of you and your friends from the spider society. Next to the photos were post it notes of tasks, reminders and various sketches of new designs.

“You can stop judging the mess now.” Your voice startled him, although Miguel didn’t show it. It was at the exact moment he noticed the jacket that was around your chair. It was his. You berated yourself for leaving it out. You tightened your grip on the plate in your hands. “Happy belated birthday, Miguel.” You diverted his attention away from the chair. Miguel’s eyes watered ever so slightly, he looked away from you. You remembered and maybe, you never stopped celebrating his birthday for him. Even if he doesn’t celebrates his own birthday, you made it a special day. “I didn’t expect this.” He told you, eyes still brimming with tears. “I just had some cake lying around. And- since you’re here, you reminded me.” it was another lie. On his birthday, your fingers would hover over his contact button, contemplating if you should just wish him. Then time passed and it got harder to reach out with every passing year. Yesterday, when he had called you informing you of the anomaly in your universe, you passed a bakery on your way home. It was an impulse purchase, you told yourself that you were craving for cake. Yet another lie, you couldn’t bring yourself to eat it. When you saw it this morning in your fridge again, you contemplated and stressed over how you were going to give it to him.

If it’s meant to be, the universe will pull it’s strings.

That was the conclusion you had came to when you left the house and now he stood in your home. Miguel was sitting in your dining room. You watched worriedly when he had to bend down ever so slightly to avoid hitting his head against the doorframe.”Do you not like the cake?” You asked, watching him stare at the cake. “I do.” He replied quickly, extinguishing that thought of yours. “It’s just been a while.” He admitted. Miguel picked up the fork, “Thank you.” He thanked before frowning.

“Do you always wear your mask at home?” He asked, knowing the obvious answer. Your eyes widened, touching the mask on your face. You laughed nervously, feeling more natural when you had your mask on while talking to him. It is also the reason why you didn’t notice Miguel’s eyes watering at the cake. “I don’t” You answered, plucking at the mask nervously. Miguel raised his eyebrows at you. “I’m making you uncomfortable.” He concluded. You sighed, pulling off your mask while you tried to smooth your hair down. Miguel’s gaze on your bare face made your heart tighten, knowing that you remind him of someone else. When you had your mask on, you could be sure that he was talking to you, and not her. “I’ll put it back on,” You said. Miguel’s hand reached out to stop you.

“You’re not her.” He stated firmly. You swallowed the lump in your throat. You weren’t her, you aren’t who he loves. Miguel took a bite out of the cake in front of him, trying to sort out his thoughts. “You’re more than just a memory to me.” Miguel confessed. You looked up at him and Miguel felt a pang to his chest. The hurt swirling around in your eyes. Did he cause it? You rubbed your face with your hand, using your hand to cover the pained expression you had. Why did you care? You had left with only hatred for the man before you, hated him for seeing his soulmate in you, hated him for treating you like the alternate version of you, hated him for treating you like a replacement. However, your heart ached, yearned and longed for him the longer you spent without him. Love was something that had no logical explanation. Magical was the only phrase that could describe such a beautiful yet painful emotion perfectly. Seeing Miguel in your home felt natural, like he always belonged here with you. His jacket still hanging from your closet and your chair. The coffee brand he had once recommended you was the one you drank everyday. It was no wonder why you never truly moved on, some part of him was always with you.

“You never did let me explain myself that day.” Miguel wiped his mouth with a napkin as he finished the cake. You felt your shoulders slump at the reminder of that day. “You and her may share the same name and face, but the both of you are polar opposites.” He started. Your heart cracked at the statement, he loved someone who was the opposite of you, he felt so far from you. “She’s really polite and responsible. Hell, she gets stressed easily and hates mess.” You gripped the chair you were sitting on till your knuckles turned white. “Miguel, I really don’t want to know.” You said sorrowfully. You weren’t strong enough to hear about how infatuated he was with an alternate version of you right now. Miguel looked at you, “Bear with me.” He said. You laughed at the irony of the statement. He used to bear with your antics and sarcastic remarks, now he’s asking you to bear with him. “You are messy and arguably rude, excuse my bluntness but you know it’s true.” The ends of his lips quirked upwards. “You’re incredibly carefree, always smiling and joking no matter the situation. People laugh when they are around you. Me and her, we got along really well because we were so similar to each other, but when it comes to you, me and you are complete opposites.” You glanced around your home, you were never good at heart to heart thoughts. It wasn’t any better that he was practically telling you how different the both of you were.

“Ok, you love her and I’m nothing like her. So you don’t see her in me. You can stop there now.” You mumbled, wanting to keep your heart intact for another day. Miguel let out a sigh, “You’re shit at this.” He rubbed his forehead. You rolled your eyes at him, your previous dynamic with him coming back naturally. “I’m not coming back to the spider society Miguel.” Miguel let out another disappointed sigh. “That’s not what I’m trying to do.” He assured. Miguel looked at you and he can’t help but chuckle lightly.

“You’re such an idiot.” Your jaw dropped dramatically. “You’re an idiot.” You shot back at him childishly. “You are so shit at coding, have you seen your own code? Considering you’re from the future too. And your slow ass platform, that doesn’t make you cool. It’s just stupid after the upteenth time.” You shot insult one after another. Miguel couldn’t help the baffled look on his face as he listened to you, completely in your element. Then he finally smiled again after a long while. He got you back, you were the person he remembered and fell for again. “I guess I’ll have to spell it out for you.” He started. “Yeah, maybe you should instead of talking in riddles by telling me about an alternate version of me.”

“You’re not her and you’ll never be. Because you’re you, the person I had fallen for despite everything. And because of my foolishness, I almost lost you. I’m sorry you even thought that I took you as a replacement. You never were, you always meant to me much more than that.” Miguel confessed. Your throat turned dry, the confession too out of the blue for you to confess. Minutes ago, you were still bruying yourself in self pity, that it was unrequited love between you and him. “I mean, we always had the weird dynamic that we hated eachother. But i could never hate you. When I thought you hated me, it was like my own personal torture. Cause I’m a fool for you, and the things you do. I refused to admit it because I was also afraid that I was projecting my feelings for her onto you. I was afraid of making myself vulnerable and going through the pain again. Amidst all my fears, I had pushed you away and lost you.”

“Fuckign hell Miguel.” You cursed at him, letting the tears fall from your eyes. “You made me go through a whole rollercoaster and I’m not even a fan of rollerocasters.” Miguel panicked, not knowing what to do. “I’m sorry, its ok if you don’t feel the same way. I just had to clear things up.” He rambled nervously. You shook your head, “You’re an idiot O’Hara. I can never hate you. I have fallen for you too.” You confessed, a blush taking over your features.

The euphoria in Miguel’s heart was almost too much to bear. He looked at you, the tears he kept holding back finally falling from his eyes. After all these years, he was finally happy again. He was finally given the chance to be happy aagian. Was the good karma from being spiderman finally working in his favor. Miguel leaned over the table, gently tilting your chin up as he kissed you.

Miguel didn’t mess up this time. He hasn’t lost you and he never will.

Falling for you is indeed his canon event.

tags: @notplutos @monaypo1 @mimooyi @xricly @spiritndrain @violetstyless @dhishkabob @laviedanslespetal @digipaw2-0 @dil-33 @sosograndii @butterflytyannie @4sat0ruu @1ts-okuyasuh3h3h3 @hoseokslefteyebrow @gracielukey @unavoidabledirewolf @loreleis-world @viriexo @cosmicmagicgirl @shadowqueen090 @idkneel-forloki @hannigramtampon@ironflowerpenguin@mfrnchsk@powethebowe@cookielovesbook-akie@shppliftin@lazy4teen@mrdockloverr@killerwendigo @biggiecheeze04 @spaceemeeatt2 ( i tagged everyone who left a comment)

#miguel o'hara imagines #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara #spiderman #spiderman 2099 #spider man #spider-man #into the spider verse #spider verse #across the spiderverse #atsv miguel #spiderman atsv #miguel ohara #miguel x reader #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o’hara x you

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mamayan · 7 months

Text

★Good Boy☆

Sub! Genya Shinazugawa x Soft Dom! Reader

cw: Soft Dom! Reader • Fem! Reader Coded • Sub! Genya • Fluff • Mild Angst • Hand Job (M) • Mild Teasing • Mild Overstimulation • Praise • Fingering (M) • Oral (M)

wc: 3k+

A/N: He is an angel, no one can convince me otherwise—

“Can I…?” You turned to see your sweet lover standing in the entrance of the shoji, handsome as always but wearing an unusual nervous expression.

You cock a brow expectantly, smile curving your lips. “Can you what, Genya?” There’s a teasing lilt to your tone which makes him purse his lips, pale skin beginning to flush red.

“T-Tanjiro was the one to bring it up, okay? I-I wasn’t listening to anything weird, alright?” His immediately defensive words before he’d even asked permission was a telling sign for you as interest sparked in your eyes. That made him even more nervous, but the sight of you sitting and being so patient made it even more difficult for him not to ask.

“Alright Genya, I understand. Now go ahead and tell me.” You weren’t asking, but your tone hadn’t changed. It didn’t matter though, as Genya immediately spit it out at your command.

“C-Can I lay my head on your l-lap?!” He’d all but screamed it. Panting as if it’d taken an incredible amount of effort to speak the sentence, the demon slayer with physical abilities that few could contend with appeared all but starved for oxygen. Those wide dark amethyst eyes are bloodshot and a little teary at the edges as he stared fervently at you.

“Yes?” You’d expected something different. Less innocent at least.

His face lights up though, and it makes any disappointment dissolve in the face of such a gorgeous display of happiness. His sweet smile and flushed cheeks make you coo, shifting yourself to sit in a more formal position as he scurries and secures a spot on your thighs with his head.

He lays himself almost stiffly on your lap, his large body frozen as if you’d change your mind if he were to move too much. You chuckle in amusement, his eyes flicking up to where you leaned over him. “Relax sweet boy, close your eyes.” He was too cute to deny right now, especially as he obeys with almost too much enthusiasm and tightly shuts his eyes with more concentration than necessary. You help him out, smoothing your hand lightly over his face, trailing down his cheeks and jaw with a feather light touch. He’s stuck between feeling like wanting to claw out of his own skin and melting in it. Your soft touch leaves him vulnerable, but as does the position which situates you over him, almost like he’s being protected. Genya ponders the last time he’s felt safe like this, but thoughts of his family and Sanemi hurt his chest too much to dwell long on, so he enjoys the fluffy feeling beginning to consume him and his mind.

“How was your day, my love?” He hates how much he adores your sweet names for him. As if each one is a balm to soothe his frayed nerves for each time he’s been hurt or insulted. He’s unable to deny a single request or command from you, nor does he particularly want to either. “I trained with Tanjiro, the dumb guy. He keeps getting stronger, while I’m just…” he grits his teeth, words not coming as easily as he tries to formulate the correct words which would describe his own inferiority to Tanjiro—

“Just what?” You goad.

“While I’m just me,” he doesn’t look at you anymore, eyes focused on the other end of the room as if his greatest enemy stands like a ghost in the corner. “I’m just me, I don’t have any cool ancestors or fancy breathing styles, I ain’t like ‘Nemi—,” you gently tilt his face back up towards you, eyes so warm he stutters on his words and stops entirely. How could you look at him like that? When he’s like this?

“You don’t need to be like him though, do you? You’re perfect just the way you are, sweet boy. Have I not shown you already? Your effort, your strength, your perseverance… they’re all yours, right?” His breathing nearly halts, so focused on your words he feels himself going light headed, “Focus on what you can do and focus on coming back to me. Isn’t that enough?” A single tear slides down his cheek, gaze blurry with the ones unshed as his chest fills with adoration and admiration for you.

“Don’t cry ‘Nya, I haven’t even done anything yet,” your teasing words make him flush deeper, the innuendo not lost on him despite his embarrassment.

“I-I ain’t cryin’!” He flinches as you inflict a small pinch to his cheek, “Sorry…” he apologizes quickly for yelling.

“Why are you embarrassed? Don’t you like when I play with you?” He wants to melt into the floor, but he’s trapped by the soft pillow of your thighs beneath his head and neck. Of course he liked it, he loved it even, but admitting it aloud was the most difficult for him. His silent trembling and watery gaze weren’t convincing enough apparently. Your hand leaves his soft tresses, smoothing down his neck and onto his chest where he tenses under the delicate pressure.

“That’s too bad ‘Nya, I really want to play with you now but… since you don’t like it, I won’t force you.” He nearly jolts up, but halts in fear of damaging your hand in his carelessness, instead panicking.

“N-no! I like it! I really, really like it,” his honest declarations are the easiest to achieve when he’s not given time to think of some crass response or lie, “Y-you always make me feel, well, good, really good,” he looks ready to burst, his cute expression almost too much for you as you withhold your laughter.

“Oh…? What do you like best then, sweet boy?” You knew he was close to his verbal limit, but to not push him until he couldn’t take anymore would be a waste since he so sweetly offered himself up like this.

Genya choked as your hand drifted lower, unable to control his body even with deep breathing as his pants began to feel tighter.

“I like… when you touch me, like this,” it feels like his throat is closing up. Your sweet hum of affirmation and your hand drifting lower was incentive enough to keep going. “When you—fuck,” his eyes nearly roll back just from you teasing the edges of his belt line.

“Finish your sentence, or we can stop here.”

“Wh-when you touch my cock—,” he looks like a boiled octopus, so red and flustered as he twitches helplessly beneath your hand. His eyes meet your own, as if asking if that was the right answer to get what he wants, no, needs from you.

He feels almost betrayed when you only lightly skim his stiff cock with the tips of your fingers, smile still in place as he gasps and jerks despite the minimal stimulation.

“I’m touching it, baby. Just how you like,” he wished you’d end the teasing, weak to your voice and touch as he grows closer to his breaking point.

“M-more please, like you usually do—,” his tone is getting whinier and more desperate.

“How do I usually do it…?” You drag one finger just up to the tip, chuckling as his hips hump uselessly up for even a tiny bit more friction. You deny him of course, playing dumb while dragging your finger around the opening where pre-cum was already pearling up.

He huffs, a light moan being drawn when you press down on his opening. “Y-you grip it, fuck, my cock—please, I-I need you,” there it was, your smile widens as tears spill freely, his eyes finally losing their defiance and cocky attitude in favor of showing you the sweet softness he holds beneath the surface just for you.

“There’s my sweet boy, I was wondering where’d you been~” you coo and give in finally, curling your fingers around his poor leaking cock and tightening until his breath became lodged in his throat and his body stiffened. “My sweet boy always tells me what he wants, doesn’t he?” You give no warning, only jerking him harshly and quickly, loving the way his eyes flash with pleasure and trepidation. Genya can’t speak anymore, only choked gasps and moans escaping as you drive him towards a quick and viscious end, back arching up, head pressing deeper into your thighs. “Wa—ngh—c-cum—please, I—!” Drool slides down the corner of his mouth as he brokenly begs for permission.

“Of course you can cum, sweet boy. Make a mess for me, ‘Nya” and he does, the vigorous stimulation right after being teased has him tumbling down the cliff’s edge as he shoots ropes of thick hot cum all over your hand inside his pants.

“Ah—!” He always cums with such emotion you can help but lean deeper and swallow his cries, tongue easily invading his mouth and tasting the sweets he likely shared with Tanjiro earlier.

He jerks as you continue your fast and unending pace, hand able to work him easier now that his cum has lubed himself up.

“S’too much—!” He can only cry against your lips, clearly becoming overwhelmed and overstimulated but you merely hush him with another kiss as he’s forced to cum again, though much less coming out but not at the cost of pleasure as his mind goes completely blank as pain bleeds into the orgasm.

When you pull away, he’s left as a true mess on your lap, dazed expression languid and body completely pliant now.

As a slayer, he’s quick to recover, eyes lazily tracking your hand coming out of his pants, sticky with his release as you bring it to your lips and make a show of licking it up.

When his cock jumps to life again under the lewd display, you happily share in the experience and press two fingers against his lips.

He doesn’t even think as he parts them, your fingers pressing in and forcing his own release inside his mouth. He cleans your fingers eagerly, less shy now and with vigor.

“Good boy, ‘Nya, clean them good, okay? Get them nice and wet, I plan to fuck your ass with them.” He nearly passes out at your vulgar language, face becoming completely molten as you work your fingers around in his mouth, rubbing against his tongue while his eyelids grow heavy. “Does that sound nice? Do you want that, Genya?” The use of his full name lets him know he needs to answer or you’ll stop. You pull your fingers away so he can speak.

“Yes, yes please, I-I want that.” He doesn’t hesitate, knowing full well you can and will deny him if he’s slow to reply. You smile and plunge your fingers back into his mouth, swirling them a bit and even intentionally poking a little too deep to see his eyes water. “Such a good boy, my good boy,” you murmur, and his heart swells at your claiming of him.

Once you’re satisfied, you pull them free with an audible pop, saliva nicely coating them while Genya sits up, expression akin to a puppy eager to please its master for a treat.

“Strip and lay down for me,” you order softly, voice never rising but command firm all the same. It sends shivers down his spine, the ability to completely let his guard down and let you make the decisions for him, let you lead him because without a doubt he trusts you.

“Slow down,” you chuckle and tell him, slowing his violently fast movements to strip into a more normal pace so you can watch his skin be revealed like a present being unwrapped. He’s scarred, a physical reminder he’s survived, but not without cost and pain. His sinewy muscles are revealed as he folds and sets aside his top like you enjoy, his upper body bare, pale skin tinged pink like his face, veins bulging out as he trembles under your stare. He’s embarrassed and aroused, painfully aroused, but it wasn’t anything new in your presence. You set him on fire, made him melt into a puddle. He’s trembling even as he stands and pulls his pants down, adorable white underwear stained and soaked from his earlier release, his cute cock smacking against his skin with a wet noise as he pulls them down and releases it.

Down his lithe muscular legs, Genya fully undresses for you, obeying and sitting back down on the tatami mat below and letting his body lay out.

“So good for me, knees up and legs spread baby,” you coo, kneeling down as well after removing a few layers yourself. He’s star struck, eyes unable to look away from your perfect figure he very much wishes to worship, licking his drying lips in anticipation.

He stays as still as possible, only twitching a little as you blow cool air on the dark reddened tip of his plush cock, the leaking tip mostly hidden by his foreskin. “Keep your eyes on me, okay? If you look away, I’ll stop.” His pupils dilate, watching as you pull his foreskin down and reveal the sensitive tip, tongue slipping out to lick him. He’s panting and you’ve hardly even begun, hands clenched in shaky fists, nails digging into his skin as he struggles to keep his eyes locked with yours as you slowly open your mouth and let a glob of spit roll down his shaft. He wants to burst, ready to cum again by sight alone but he doubts you’ll give him permission to cum before you’ve had your fill yet.

Then he feels the cool wet sensation on the tight ring of muscle below, his balls drawing up as you gently prod with a single digit until he breathes out and relaxes, earning a smile from you as your finger slips inside of him. It doesn’t even burn, only a slightly alien sensation at first as you gradually wiggle and stretch his hole, pad of your finger lightly grazing his prostate.His eyes roll back as a loud moan escapes him, hips jerking up and smearing a line of pre-cum across your lips and cheek as he stutters.

It’s too late when you completely pull away, finger leaving him as well as you sit back patiently. His eyes went wide with panic, “N-no wait—! I-I’m sorry, please, Y/N, I’ll be good, please,” his desperate little pleas tumbling out freely. “I’m not upset ‘Nya, my good boy, I just need you to look at me baby, you can be good and do that right?” He’s nodding before you even finish, a pretty flutter of dark hair moving where his mohawk rests. “Be good, I’ll be good,” he affirms, eyes so serious and strained you giggle, moving back again to his cock twitching desperately for any attention you’re willing to give it.

Genya gasps in shock as you give him two fingers this time, his ass stretching just enough for a tiny burn before it fades as you lock your lips around his cock, swirling your tongue under the skin around his tip. His eyes water, unblinking as they look at you, and you’re blessed with the sight of them finally falling as he grits his teeth and whines for you. Your fingers prod and brush his prostate, warm tongue so gentle and sweet compared to your calculated thrusts into his hole, his whines becoming delirious moans while he pants and drools, face fucked out and so cute you can’t help taking more of his cock into your mouth. He feels so good, a building thrum of pleasure swirling from both his cock and ass it’s turning his brain to mush.

“I-I need, please may I, Y/N—!” He howls your name, one eye nearly closing but he holds strong when you suck particularly hard on him. “May I cum, fuck, please, please I need—!” Tears flow freely now, his dark purple eyes reddened on the corners as they spill down his cheeks while his hips thrust up begging for release.

You pull off with a pop, free hand working his cock still just like before as he grunts almost as if in pain but you know he’s simply holding on by a thread.

“Cum for me ‘Nya, let go baby,” you encourage, and he does. Unable to deny you a single thing and truly unable to stop the white hot pleasure which rips through him as his cock twitches and spurts his hot load. You open your lips, catching his cum in your mouth as he gasps and writhes below, sweet moans and whines filling the space as you gently work him down. You pull your fingers free at last, his tight ring twitching too as you do.

He’s left a sweaty satiated mess when you pull up, easily crawling over him and slotting your lips against his. Genya opens, groaning as you push his cum into his mouth, his salty sweet taste now filling his senses along with the taste of you.

You kiss him with all the love you feel, only pulling away when you need the air finally, adoration and awe covering your slayer’s cute face.

“I love you,” he looks so vulnerable saying it, as if you rejecting him might destroy his fragile heart.

You’d never do such a thing though.

“I love you too, my sweet boy, my Genya,” and he’s gone as you affirm his love. As you claim him.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, and we can have dinner.” Your aftercare is nothing short of perfection, and while he’s shy in receiving such tender care and love he’s been deprived of so long, he’s unable to deny how lovely it is to be cherished like this. He might still not be on the best of terms with his brother, but he knows a safe space will always remain in your arms.

“Y/N…,” you look up, his eyes shining with tears again but this time his smile is filled with gratitude. “Thank you,” his voice is hoarse, but you laugh, wrapping your arms around him and pulling him into your chest as you kiss his head.

Dividers by/@cafekitsune

#Sub! Genya Shinazugawa #soft dom! reader #I’m a sap I know #He’s too cute though #I wanna peg him too lol #dom! reader #demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #kny smut #genya shinazugawa #genya smut #Genya Shinazugawa x reader #Genya Shinazugawa x reader smut #kny Genya #kny Genya smut #kny Genya x reader smut #demon slayer smut

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