#her toes should be bleeding right now! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

borathae · 8 months

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"You should have known. Taehyung is a connoisseur for a good hunt after all. He loves to drag it out, to take his time and play with his prey until their resources are used up. The catch isn’t most pleasurable to him, but the path leading up to it. You know him so well and yet you still thought that you could get him to lose control so easily. Oh how naïve you were."

Pairing: Vampire!Taehyung x f.Reader

Genre: established relationship!AU, polyamory!AU, Smut

Warnings: pussy wetting porn, soft & hard Dom!Taehyung, whiney sub!Reader, she's a tease in the beginning, until he shows her what a real tease looks like, he kneels and kisses her feet in gratefulness, period sex, lotsa blood, he licks it from her pussy, and does some other kinky shit with it but it's a surprise besties, sloppy oral (f.receiving), pussy fingering, gentle pussy fisting bitches, rough sex in multiple positions and locations (including his bed, the window, atop a dresser, his atelier), dirty talk, praise, good girl kink, degradation (he calls her his greedy slut), sexy possessiveness, Sir kink, huge vampire dicks, fangs, nipple play, marking, scratching (m.receiving), choking (f.receiving), strength kink, he's unhinged and feral, multiple intense orgasms for her, overstimulation, she's a lil masochist <3, Tae uses her pussy as his personal fleshlight, creampies, she subdrops but he reassures her, the softest aftercare, they're in love and kinky!!

Wordcount: 9.2k

a/n: i need to be restrained and put in a cage. cue brittany brosky's voice i am gnawing at the iron bars of my enclosure 😶

You know where to find your darling. It is a rainy night and the air is chilly enough to make staying inside wonderful. There is only one place in the estate where Taehyung loves to be during those times. His atelier, painting and drawing away. The doors to it are open, the faintest of jazz music enters the corridors. He is painting. Just as you had figured. You know him so well.

You enter his atelier with a faint knock on his door.

“Tae darling?”

“Yes, my darling?” Taehyung asks with his full attention on you instantly. He even places his paint brush aside without breaking his eyes away from you for even a millisecond. He sniffles as if he noticed something, but stays quiet otherwise. His eyes scan you from head to toe and yet he still doesn’t say anything.

You close the distance between you and him.

“I got my period today.”

“I knew that I smelled something on you. Oh my darling, do not worry. I can get you everything you need”, he says and stands up to hurry to you, “just make me a list and I will drive to the store right away, unless you need a massage or hugs. Oh, I can give you everything.”

“You’re so sweet”, you say, “but I don’t need any of those things.”

“Yes? Then I shall keep my distance and talk only when necessary.”

“No, not that either.”

“What else could you possibly need?”

“Tae, I’m not wearing protection right now and it’s leaking into my panties.”

Taehyung furrows his brows, “...yes? I…shall I buy you new sanitary products?”

“No, you,” you chuckle.

Taehyung chuckles as well eventhough he is very clearly confused.

“Help me clean myself, Tae.”

“Oh, of course! Oh darling, why didn’t you say so sooner? Come, I shall run you a hot shower and scrub your back”, he says and takes your hand to walk off.

You however pull him back, using the momentum to twirl him.

Taehyung laughs and falls into you.

“Darling, don’t do that.”

You fix him so he was facing you again.

“You didn’t understand me.”

“Okay?”

“Kneel, Taehyung.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Kneel for me.”

Taehyung falls to his knees as if it was instinct. He even places his hands in the proper position, looking up at you with questioning puppy eyes.

“I don’t seem to understand”, he confesses.

“Clean me, Taehyung”, you tell him and step closer.

The sweet scent of your bleeding, warm pussy overtakes his senses. He tries not to, but still looks at your middle. You are wearing nothing more than an oversized cashmere cardigan and a pair of cotton panties. They are white, but soaked in blood. He feels his senses blur. You look and smell temptatious.

“Darling”, Taehyung croaks, pressing his legs together, “you are torturing me. I can smell but you.”

“Clean me, Taehyung”, you repeat your order and something seems to click in Taehyung’s brain

His head snaps up, his face is fallen in shock.

“What, what do you mean? What does this mean? What?” he stutters, blinking rapidly.

You smile tauntingly, “you heard me. I’m messy and need you to clean me.”

“But darling. Darling, you are covered in blood”, Taehyung is salivating as he speaks. His fangs are glistening in the lights. He is so consumed by your scent, aching to bury his face in your sweet heaven and yet he seems so perfectly in control.

“I know and I need a vampire to clean it.”

“___”, Taehyung presses out, “are you certain? What about Yoongi? I do not want him to think that I am feeding from you again. I don’t want to cause a fight.”

“Yoongi cleaned me too.”

“Pardon?” this confession is the most shocking to Taehyung. Obviously.

“Yeah”, you giggle, “do you remember last month? When I didn’t leave Yoongi’s wing for days?”

“Yes.”

“That was when I accidentally started my period in his bed and he ate me out like an animal.”

"Now this is", Taehyung scoffs, shaking his head, “you are having a jest with me.”

You shake your head, continuing your story.

“He proceeded to keep me captive for the rest of my period to literally take me in far too many ways and positions and rooms and…yeah. Phew.”

“You are telling the truth?!”

“Yes. Of course I am”, you say and snicker at Taehyung’s shocked expression.

“Darling, I am flabbergasted. Yoongi drank your blood?”

“He didn’t drink my blood. He ate my pussy, which just so happened to be bleeding, but that’s beside the point. He knows that I’m here and what I want to do with you. He doesn’t mind.”

“Are you certain? Are you truly certain?”

“Yes Tae, I’m certain. You’re the only one who can clean me right now.”

"Are, are you truly certain?"

"Every second wasted with talking means my panties are getting messier and messier", you say and lift your cardigan just slightly to reveal more of you to him.

Taehyung looks at it and crumbles.

“Darling you”, he touches your calves, looking up at you with devoted, starstruck eyes, “I exist to worship you. Every waking second should be spend being your greatest admirer. I-”

He stops talking to instead bow down in front of you. Not only that, but to also kiss your feet. Every inch of them. Toe by toe and instep by instep. He kisses your feet as shaky mutters of “thank you” and “oh, how I am devoted to you” interrupt his needy sounds of admiration.

You let it happen with a racing heart. He looks so good worshiping your feet.

“My goddess”, he says, hugging your legs and burying his nose deep in your middle. He inhales deeply, letting out a guttural moan, “oh my beautiful, bleeding goddess. I am delirious from your scent”, his voice is muffled from your body.

You giggle, ruffling his hair.

“You seem happy.”

“I am happy. I ache for your taste day by day. Oh my sweetest, you smell so wonderful.”

He tilts his head up, still hugging your legs. His eyes are ruby, his cheeks covered in black veins. You caress them, ending it by tugging a strand of hair behind his ear.

“You’re such a darling”, you speak softly, giving him a fond smile.

Taehyung buries his nose back in you, inhaling as much of you as his lungs allow him.

“Oh darling”, he moans as he exhales, shuddering uncontrollably, “how I want you.”

“You can have me. You know?”

“I know, oh I know”, he says and stands up, “I shall not take you here”, he says, sweeping you off your feet bridal style.

You squeal and giggle, falling around his neck for support. You don’t feel scared at all. He is your strong darling after all. Your weight feels like nothing to a vampire like him. He carries you with ease, basking in your giggles as you willingly let him kidnap you.

The journey ends in his bedroom. He places you atop his king sized bed, giving you no time to get used to the solace as he claims the space above you. Your cardigan got messed up from the movement, having slipped off one of your shoulders to reveal your skin to him.

Taehyung lowers his lips to your shoulder instantly, kissing your every inch from the very top of your shoulder down to where your collarbone blends into your sternum. His hands are on each side of your head, his knees are caging in your hips and yet he puts no weight on your lap. The distance aches. To have his weight so close, his touch even closer and not to receive it makes you restless. You squirm on the sheets, reaching up just to grasp his wrists.

“Patience”, Taehyung guides his lips to the shell of your ear just so he can seduce you with his sultry whispers, “I like to take my time with an exquisite meal.”

Being known so well by him makes you squirm once more. All you needed to do was to touch his wrists and he knew what you were craving most.

“I’m getting everything messy”, you sigh in hopes of warming his heart.

Taehyung chuckles deeply, kissing a path along your face until he reaches the other side of your neck to worship.

“This is the fun part”, he rasps and shakes his right hand free from your weak grasp to instead run it down your body.

You writhe into the touch, shivering intensely when he slips it under your cardigan to palm at your skin. Just for a few seconds and without ever touching your breasts, then he already slips it out again to dance it to your hip.

“The savouring you is the best part, my darling”, he teases, playing with the hem of your panties, “it gets you so wet”, you can feel his smirk against your skin, hear it in his voice, “and messy”, he adds, kissing the spot where your pulse races like crazy in your neck.

“Tae”, you mewl, arching into him.

This isn’t what you expected when you came to him for aid. You expected him to lose composure like Yoongi did. You expected him to take you and pin you, giving you no chance to escape as he selfishly takes what is his’. You wanted him to be the one panting and gasping as control slipped from his fingers with each lick and yet he is having you in a tight grip. He is in perfect control while you feel dizzy in desperation.

You should have known. Taehyung is a connoisseur for a good hunt after all. He loves to drag it out, to take his time and play with his prey until their resources are used up. The catch isn’t most pleasurable to him, but the path leading up to it. You know him so well and yet you still thought that you could get him to lose control so easily. Oh how naïve you were.

“Darling, you are squirming so much”, Taehyung rasps, holding your hips down with gentle strength, “what’s the matter? Am I rushing you?”

“No”, you mewl, shaking your head.

“No?”

You shake your head more vigorously, wiggling your hips under his grip.

“Look at you trying to squirm”, he taunts, “don’t tell me that you believed me to lose control like Yoongi did, mhm?”

You mewl from being so exposed. It should embarrass you, but it only makes you crave him more.

Taehyung chuckles deeply, guiding his long fingers to your tummy just to play with your panties there.

“You should know me better by now”, he rasps, slipping his fingers inside just to toy with your pubes. He is obsessed with them, twirling and tugging on them gently to truly rile you up.

“Tae, please”, you try begging, making him smirk against your neck.

He retreats his touch, drawing circles into the softness of your stomach. You want him so bad.

“Open your cardigan for me.”

You obey even before he finishes his sentence. There are three buttons keeping you modest. You open them as quickly as possible, tugging the cardigan open to expose yourself to him. You slip it off your arms, letting it lay under you as you can’t be bothered to remove it completely.

“Good girl”, Taehyung praises and sits up. He is kneeling, but still doesn’t put his weight on your lap. This is for show. To make you aware that he doesn’t need his weight to keep you pinned for him. His presence is enough to make you obedient.

Taehyung runs his eyes over your body, keeping his hands rested on his own thighs. The fabric of his linen pants stretches around them, bulging at his cock. He is hard. At least this he can’t hide from you. Even if he pretends to be in perfect control otherwise, at least his cock shows how much you affect him.

“Mhm”, he purrs, “beautiful.”

He looks at your panties. They are red in blood. His eyes flicker ruby. Finally another reaction. You part your legs upon seeing it, aching for him to act.

“How much do you treasure these undergarments?” he asks.

“They’re old and a little uncomfy”, you tell him.

“Good. Then I am sure you don’t mind if I do this”, he says and slips his fingers under the hem of them. He picks up a piece of them and looks at you, “may I?”

“Yeah…please.”

“So eager”, he chuckles and begins ripping the fabric, going carefully and slowly. It takes everything inside you not to squirm and beg him for more. Taehyung rips your panties at the other side as well, going just as slow and careful. It is as if he was opening a present or unwrapping a piece of candy. He does it with such a light-heartedness while you feel like shivering in desperation.

You lift your hips the second he managed to rip your panties apart. Taehyung chuckles and tugs the ruined fabric away.

“So eager”, he says, lifting your panties into his field of vision. He inspects them, parting his lips to show off his fangs. A smirk tugs at the corner of his lips, his ruby eyes flit to you, “this is your last chance to stop this, darling.”

“I don’t want to stop.”

“Are you certain?”

“Yes!” you insist loudly, “please Tae, don’t tease me anymore.”

He chuckles, “you’re such a delight, my darling”, he says and places your panties aside. He climbs off your lap, placing his hands on your thighs to push them apart. Not that he has to do a lot of work. The second he touched your thighs, you opened your legs for him. He meets your desperate eyes, giving you a knowing smile.

“So eager”, he speaks softly and sickeningly sweet. Oh, the things he manages to do with nothing but his voice.

“Please Tae, I’m messy.”

“Mhm, not messy enough”, he says and connects two of his fingers with your aching heat.

“Ah”, you gasp, chasing the touch the second you received it. It feels so good. His fingers are so careful and his skin so soft. You needed his touch so incredibly much.

“So wet”, Taehyung whispers, dragging his fingers through your folds in a slow massage, “look at it covering your every inch. Darling, I crave you.”

He leaves out your clit on purpose, riling you up each time he swerves past it.

“More”, you try in hopes of persuading him, chasing his gentle touch.

“May I feel you inside?”

“Yes”, you exhale shakily, “yes please, Tae.”

“Thank you so much”, he says and lets two of his fingers disappear inside you. You gasp and arch your back. They slip in so easily, fill you up so much. Taehyung watches your face for reactions and when he sees that no sign of discomfort crinkle it, he finally looks at your reddened cunt. Truly, how messy you are. It looks like the most delicious meal to Taehyung, forcing him to gulp heavily from all the saliva gathering in his mouth. He moves his hand, fingering your soft walls with gentle precision.

“Tae…” you sigh, letting your legs fall open. His fingers are so long, touching just where it feels the best.

“You feel wonderful, my darling”, he praises, curling his fingers, “you feel so tender inside. Tell me, are my fingers comfortable?”

“Yes”, you sigh, nodding your head vigorously.

“Oh, you feel so much more tender than on other days”, he whispers and slips another finger inside.

“A-ah”, your breath hitches in your throat, your fingers twist the sheets. To be so filled with Taehyung will never lose its spark.

“Breathe, my darling. You are tightening”, he orders you, soothing the stretch by drawing circles on your clit with his thumb. You are so wet from your period that the touch comes easy.

You inhale shakily, exhale in a tremble. You can’t control your walls from clenching, not when he makes you feel so good. You need to feel him as close as possible, so clenching comes natural to you.

“There we go. I need you to relax, otherwise I can’t prepare you for my length”, he speaks sweetly, soothing your trembles with gentle rubs to your lower stomach, “you are doing so well already.”

“Oh god…Tae”, you press out, rolling your head to the side in weakness. Being praised by him will always ruin you. You roll your hips up into his touch, moaning his name because this is all you can think of right now. Taehyung and only Taehyung.

He rewards your eagerness with yet another finger. He watches with deep red eyes as his pinkie finger slips into your wet cunt, how you welcome him and how you fit so perfectly around him.

“Four fingers darling, you are taking four of my fingers”, he rasps, keeping them still inside you to get you used to the stretch. He knows that it can be overwhelming and he doesn’t want to overwhelm you. Yet.

“Tae ple-please”, you get out in a shaky breath, reaching down to squeeze the hand he keeps on your stomach. You hold it with both hands, squeezing it so terribly much.

“Hurts?” he makes sure, caressing your skin.

You shake your head vigorously, grinding into his touch. His fingers slip deeper. Taehyung feels how your walls throb around his digits, tensing his own thighs as his every fiber tells him to ruin you. If you think that he wasn’t affected by all of this, you were wrong. It takes every ounce of self-control for Taehyung to stay as calm as he pretends to be right now. There are voices in his head. Distorted, tempting voices telling him to devour you, to use the advantages his curse gives him and take you as his sweetest meal.

But Taehyung has a plan. He wants this meal to be as perfect as possible. He wants you to think about it during random times of your day and feel so utterly affected by it that you falter in whatever you were doing a few moments ago, perhaps you even gasp for air and trace the spots he touched as you tried to relive the memory.

Taehyung needs to ignore the voices for the sake of the perfect feed. There is no other way.

You thrust your hips again, pulsating around his hand as your cunt swallows it hungrily. How wet you are inside, how warm and soft. Taehyung can touch your cervix this way, forcing you to keep still by pressing down on your tummy again. You squeeze his hand, whimpering his name while your hips give up without a fight.

“Stay still, don’t disobey”, he orders, pulling his fingers out just a little in order to give your tender cervix a break, “if you keep wiggling, it will hurt.”

“But it, it feels so good”, you get out and whimper, scratching at his hand gently as you try to grasp more, “Sir feels so good.”

Taehyung groans, furrowing his brows. Ruin her. The voices tempt him. Take her and break her. They taunt him.

“Darling”, he presses out through gritted fangs, “fuck, you make me act up”, he spits and gives into his desires.

He pins you down with his weight, wrapping his blood-soiled hand around your throat to press down on your veins.

Dizziness claims your brain instantly, a squeaky gasp leaves your lips. You meet his gaze, meeting desperate craze in it. His pupils are so blown-out that they almost swallow the red, the black veins pulsate on his cheeks. He is breathing heavily and shakily, doing so in deep, desperate breaths.

“How dare you call me such titles. Do you have any idea what this does to me?” he is growling his words with a hint of demonic raspiness in his voice. He tilts your head up with a tight grip on your throat, “what I want to do to you when you talk like this?”

“Sir”, you choke out, grasping his strong lower arm. It feels so good to be choked. It finally feels as if you are breaking his composure. You couldn’t escape his grasp even if you tried as hard as you can, but you aren’t scared. You are so entirely happy to be here.

Taehyung’s features darken, his unoccupied hand grasps your hands and guides them down your body. He lodges them between your waist and his thighs, turning you unable to move them. You can’t even wiggle them, let alone change their position. He is so strong and you are utterly at his mercy.

“Stop calling me this”, he hisses and slams his hand into the pillow beside your head. He moves in closer, breathing deeply. He shudders and growls. His blood-soiled hand covered your entire neck in blood, tempting him to taste you. He moves in closer, rolling your head to the side to reveal your vulnerable neck to his lips. He inhales again, moaning deliciously.

Your heart is racing. The grip around your neck lessened, but you still feel dizzy.

“How I need you”, he gets out and moves in. His bloodied fingers leave your neck, his dripping tongue replaces them. You tense up and moan, feeling burning electricity shoot through your veins.

Taehyung moans and presses himself closer, feasting on your neck as if it was the first meal he ever tasted. He missed this so much that he almost starts crying. And to have it taste like your sweet cunt as well, oh Taehyung has to reach up and grab the edge of the pillow, caring rather little about soiling it with blood. He pins you deep into the mattress, increases the pressure on your arms. You shouldn’t escape him. Not when he finally has the taste of your blood under his tongue. By the time, he has finished cleaning one side, your flesh is bruised and sensitive. He didn’t bite you, even if his fangs kept gracing your skin, but the sensitivity is still intense.

“You are my downfall”, he is panting, fixing your head so your other side was exposed, “I want to ruin you”, he adds and latches himself onto your tender neck.

“Sir”, you whimper, lying completely still even if you want to writhe and squirm and arch your back. It feels so good. His mouth is so much hotter than on normal days.

Taehyung worships your neck almost every time you and he are intimate. You know how good it feels, but this feels different. This kind of worship, you always received when the taste of your blood was involved and you forgot how much better it feels. His mouth is burning, his tongue so wet and eager, his sucks are inhumanly desperate and his fangs keep tickling your skin. You feel so dizzy, whimpering his title because this is all you can do.

“Oh darling”, he chokes out shakily, abandoning your cleaned and sensitive neck to lick down your body. He releases your arms this way, but you are too weakened to move them.

Taehyung changes your positions as he eagerly explores the paths down to your cunt. He reaches just about under your ribcage when everything is taking too long for him and he uses his powers. His arms grip your legs, using the leverage to turn you on the mattress so you are facing the side of his bed. He proceeds to tug you to the edge of it, falling to his knees before you as his arms pull your hips off the sheets and he can bury his face in your bloodied cunt. This is the only position which allows him to suffocate himself with you and it is also the only way he can truly make sure that you can’t flee. With his arms having an iron grip around your thighs and his hands digging deep into the softness of you, he has you where he wants you. Spread open and cunt on top his face.

He growls deeply, shutting off his better senses as your sweetened taste claims his tongue.

“Tae”, you moan, arching your back even if it is hard to do so in the current position, “ah! Oh god! What t-the hell? Ah!”

The thing about Taehyung’s nose? It is beautiful, ethereal, sculpted by the heavens and goddamn fucking perfect to grind against a sensitive pussy. And the thing about Taehyung? He is crazy enough to do it. Even if this gets his face messy and bloody, even if it means that your scent makes his eyes water from the intensity of it and even if you reach down and pull his hair. You pull so hard, so desperately and it does nothing. Taehyung fucks your sensitive pussy with his nose as deep growls vibrate against it. And while he grinds his perfect nose against your throbbing clit, his dripping tongue fucks your hole at inhuman speeds. He needs to get everything. Every single droplet of your taste. He is delirious from the sweetness, bruising your thighs on accident because of how tightly he grips you.

“Fuck, your taste”, he is cursing, growling the words against your cunt. It means a lot when he curses. He only does so when he is especially emotional. And right now every single emotion runs on nothing but you and your taste. He is consumed by you just as much as he consumes you. He doesn’t even care about etiquette, dirtying his face as he slurps loudly.

Taehyung is a very mannerly feeder. Not many vampires carry such etiquette when they feast, but Taehyung likes to be orderly and neat. He rarely gets his face dirty, let alone make obscene sounds, but you make him forget about every single thing he ever learned about manners. He needs to get dirty, he needs to be disgusting and loud and consume your every drop.

Too long he had to go without your taste and now that he finally has it again – in such a wonderful way on top of it – he is greedy. Manners be damned, he needs to eat you until you have nothing more to give.

“Oh god Tae, oh god, oh god”, you are gasping and chanting and fighting for air, pulling at his hair even if you know that it is fruitless. He is locked onto your pussy. No hair pulling in the world could get him away from you now. His nose is punishing your clit for crimes she never committed while his mouth sucks and licks you dry.

This is the level of desperation you wanted from him and now that you have it, it feels like too much. Not in a way where you truly want him to stop, but in a way which will force you to orgasm even if you had no intention of doing so already.

“You’re the worst, oh god urgh”, you choke out and break, suffocating him with your pussy as he forces you to orgasm. You gasp for air, sob, “you’re so mean. Tae please.”

Taehyung growls into you, pulling you closer. He can’t breathe, at least not normal air. The scent of your blood and orgasm is the only air he receives. He regrets his entire life at this moment because he wonders why he didn’t think of eating your pussy during your period sooner. Oh he missed out on so much. What a fool he was. He presses himself closer, searches for more of your taste even if you are flinching in overstimulation.

“Please a break, please”, you beg, writhing in agony, “please Sir, please!”

Taehyung breaks away from you even if it is difficult. You begged for it and he can’t deny you. He fixes your positions again, making it so you are resting with your head facing the headboard and he is between your legs. It’s so easy for him to push and pull you around. Especially when he has you so weakened from pleasure.

He is pressing his clothed cock against your thigh while his ruined mouth attacks your nipples. He is rubbing his face against them first, soiling your skin with your blood just so he can lick it off of you. He needs to cover every inch of you in your red nectar just to lick it off. Oh how he needs it.

“Oh god, Tae you are so mean”, you get out breathlessly, “I, I didn’t want to cum. Oh god.”

“Do not speak to me of cruelty when you exist to ruin me”, he gets out, lifting his head, “why would you do this to me? Why?” he is asking you, cupping your face to shake your head in desperation, “what have I ever done to you? Tell me.”

You look at him. His face is a mess, covered in your blood. It soaks parts of his hair as well and sticks to spots on his throat. His eyes are dark red, bordering black and his face is just slightly contorted as his monstrous side fights for dominance. You know that he is winning by only a hair’s width right now.

“Why must you do this to me? Isn’t it enough that I dedicate my every fiber to you? Why must you seduce me with your bleeding heaven? Why?” he asks you and presses his cock against your pussy.

“Tae”, you squeak, flinching in reaction. He feels so heavy and big, grinding down on you even if you are so incredibly sensitive.

He thrusts into you as if he was already fucking you, sliding his hands to the crown of your head. He holds you with enough strength that you have to look at him if you wanted to or not.

“I need you to push me away”, he croaks, “push me away. It is the only way to stop me from ripping my clothes off and fucking you until you have to relearn how to walk.”

The thing is. The small break he gave you as he sucked your nipples and begged for answers you didn’t possess, was enough for you. You want more. You want him. All of him.

“I don’t want to push you away”, you tell him, reaching up to open his shirt.

“Don’t do this. Don’t do this if you aren’t ready to bear the consequences”, he warns you, dropping your face to instead twist the pillow. The voices are screaming at him. Claim her! She is yours to take, so take her! It is so difficult to stay human when remnants of your taste still linger on his tongue.

You pull open his shirt and touch his nipples. Taehyung growls.

“Don’t. I am warning you”, he gets out.

Your lips curl into a dangerous smirk, “you can teach me how to walk, can’t you? Sir.”

“Fuck”, he breaks. He rips his own clothes off his body before claiming the space atop you. He grips your leg and pulls you close, slapping his heavy cock against your pussy in an almost punishing way.

You flinch and moan softly, feeling your senses blur. It hurts, but you like it. Taehyung does it again, forcing incredible pleasure through your pussy.

“Do you really want this?” he asks as he repeatedly drags his cock through your swollen folds, ending it with an aggressive spank to your clit each time.

“Yes”, you sigh, parting your legs further and arching your tits closer to him.

“Beg me.”

“Please Sir, please”, you beg gladly.

“You’re such a good little slut. I trained you so well”, he lulls and pushes his thick cock past your soaked entrance. He slips in without resistance, forcing a trembling breath to slip past his lips, “such a good slut”, he presses out, scrunching his nose in pleasure.

He hits your limit. You are so much tighter than on other days. Taehyung still has a good two inches he could fit. The thought turns him on so much. That he fills you out to your literal brim and he still has more to offer. And he is only showing off his human size right now. He is so big. Oh, how it fills him with pleasure and confidence.

“Oh”, you let out, growing limp underneath him. Your eyes flutter closed.

“Keep your eyes open”, he orders darkly.

You obey even if it is difficult.

“That’s better. Keep them on me”, he speaks demandingly, fucking his huge cock into you in dragged-out, maddening strokes, “I need you to look me in the eyes as you realise what all of this begging will get you. You think you can handle me? You think that not pushing me away is a good idea? That I will not completely rewrite your definition of pleasure? Sweetest, you have driven me to the brink of insanity with your endless begging”, he rasps, curling his lips back to show off the two pairs of fangs in his mouth. You know what this means and how feral you have gotten him.

“Tae”, you sob, grabbing his chest because this is as far as your weakened arms can go.

“What’s the matter? Does it hurt?” he asks. Even now he checks up on you. Even when he speaks of insanity and looks like a monster, he checks up on you. Bear in mind, the question carried a hint of teasing to it, but more than anything it was honest and came from a loving heart.

“No”, you whimper.

“But?”

“You feel so good”, you wail, squeezing your eyes shut as your body trembles in pleasure.

“Mhhm sweetest”, Taehyung purrs, burying himself deeper inside you. He is holding back tonight. You are so tender inside, your changed anatomy allows for his human size to barely fit. If he allowed the monster to take over, he fears that he might rip you apart. He could never rip you apart, even if the voices tell him to. No, he won’t let them win. He will break you in his way. Fuck you until your spirit is broken and you exist for him. This is so much more fun either way.

So he fucks slow and he fucks precise. He knows a woman’s body well enough to be aware that sometimes less is more. That all a woman needs are precise, attentive grinds against her spots so deep inside.

His own instincts tell him to fuck fast, to drill you and reshape your insides, but he knows not to rush it. Drag it out. He is still in control of the voices. Drag it out. Keep the hunt going. This isn’t the last time he will taste you tonight. The feed isn’t over. This is just another part of the chase.

The attentive, precise fuck he gives you is hard to handle. You think that you could manage a lot better if he drilled you like a dumb animal. But this? This ruins you on another level. You claw at his chest and try to get him closer by wrapping your legs around him. You manage to drape them over his thighs weakly and that is as far as you can go before the mindnumbing pleasure makes you shake.

“Tae”, you sob, spilling tears and scrunching your face up while Taehyung looks at you with a sense of tranquillity surrounding him. You are so ruined while he barely lets it show.

“Look at me”, he says into the symphony of moans and shaky breaths.

You obey even if it is hard.

“Did I ever tell you why I am calling you my sweetest?” he asks.

“No”, you whimper.

Taehyung leans closer, letting his hot breath swirl over your lips. His cock bends and stretches you out even more.

“Because there is no taste sweeter than you”, he rasps and purrs, writing his name on your deepest spots while his eyes flash up bright red.

“Tae”, you squeakily beg, “Tae, I need to cum again.”

“Yes? Just like this? I am barely even moving and it is making you climax?”

“Yes”, you whimper.

“Of course it does. You are such a good little slut for big cock. I know you darling, you’re so sensitive and so overstimulated and yet you still beg for more”, he speaks tauntingly while his cock makes the sweetest love to your deepest spots. The pleasure sits in your tummy. So, so deep that it gets hard to concentrate. You feel on fire and he hasn’t even broken you yet.

“Hm, sweetest? Are you my greedy cock slut?”

You nod your head.

“Then tell me or I’ll stop fucking you.”

“I’m…greedy- ah”, you squeeze your eyes shut, “you’re making me cum.”

“Not so fast”, Taehyung slows down but moves his hips just right to keep you on edge. The build-up isn’t ruined, but dragged out for as long as he sees fit.

“Please”, you squeak.

“Use your words and I will reward you. Come now, don’t disobey me”, he encourages you, caressing your cheek gently.

You try again because you don’t want to disobey him.

“I’m your, ah, your cock slut. Ah, Tae please. Please let me cum, please.”

“You are such a good girl. Sir is so proud of you. My bestest girl”, he praises and rewards you with deep, circular motions against your sensitive spots. This is going to break you and he knows it.

“I’m cumming. Tae, thank you”, you sob and arch your back, “ah! Tae!”

“That’s it. You’re doing such a good job. That’s my good girl. That’s it”, he is talking you through it, dragging out your orgasm to the point where you grip the sheets and twist them.

But Taehyung isn’t satisfied. Yes you are gripping the sheets, but this is not what you should grip. Not when his body is right there. Unmarked. He isn’t done with you yet until he has you hurting him from pleasure.

“I am not done with you yet”, he is purring his words, keeping an obsessive grip on your left hip, “tell me to stop. Tell me to fucking stop, I can’t do it on my own.”

“Don’t stop, please.”

“Shit”, Taehyung growls and takes your hands just to pin them above your head. He speeds up his hips, finally using momentum to drill his cock into you. It sounds wet. So wet. Embarrassingly wet even. And harsh. His skin connects with yours in loud slaps while the springs of his bed creak in protest. Truly, it is a wonder that the furniture in this estate survived as long as it did.

“Oh god”, you gasp and writhe, “oh god, oh god, oh god. Ah!”

“Tell me to stop. Tell me, darling”, he is panting, staring at you with deep red eyes. Your blood is lingering on his skin and filling his nose with a maddening scent. Your orgasm sticks to his cock and mixes with your sweet scent. You are pulsating in your afterglow, burning hot because he doesn’t allow the fire to die down. He is so furiously desperate for you.

You shake your head.

“Faster please”, you beg.

“This is not what you were supposed to say. Oh, you greedy, insatiable woman. I can’t stop”, he rasps and moans, dropping on top of you and knocking a squeak out of you.

He reaches above your hands, growling into your neck. His long fingers grip the pillow and twist. The cover rips within a second. His back muscles flex and twitch as his body shudders in the pleasure of being with you.

“I can’t stop myself”, he growls and picks you up. He runs with you in his arms and on his cock until your back hits something icy.

You squeak, looking around yourself. You are outside his bedroom, fucking against the tall windows of his corridor. Outside the night is dark and ominous while inside, Taehyung takes you against the cold windows in a pitch black corridor. The only light source is his bedroom. The door is thrown open from his strength, the golden light paints a rectangle on the marble floor and red carpet. It hues Taehyung’s body in it as well, creating a play of shadow and light. His pearls of sweat are glistening in it, while his black, pulsing veins seem especially dark and throbbing. He lifts his head from your neck, giving view to the deep red of your blood, his burgundy eyes and the ebony mess of his hair sticking to his features.

“Tae”, you keen, feeling light-headed. The coldness of the window feels miniscule in comparison to the fire he lets you experience.

“I have to take you against every surface of this wing until the very fibres of this building know your every moan”, he chokes out as he bounces you on his cock. Quick and punishing. Your tits bounce, your pussy squirts red pleasure and your limbs can barely hold on. You throw your head back and wail.

Wail in pleasure because nothing feels better right now than Taehyung's cock reshaping your insides.

“Yes darling, show them. Show them how my good girl sounds as I fuck her.”

“Tae I have to- again!”

“Climax as often as you need to. I won’t stop you.”

“Tae!”

And as you shake in his arms and soil his entire lower body with your bloody orgasm, Taehyung slows down to drag it out again. He fucks you deep, slow and punishing until you claw at his shoulders to the point of open scratches. And then, only then, he pulls you closer. Your back leaves the window, his cock fills you up so deep. Movement. Clattering of stuff hitting the ground. Next, wood under your body and Taehyung holding your legs apart.

This is the drawer he keeps by the entrance of his wing. Normally he keeps his outdoor essentials on it, but they are currently on the floor as he uses the piece of sturdy furniture to fuck you into a state of senselessness. The light of the atelier shines onto the corridor and gives you a chance to see what he is doing. Not that you have a lot of your vision at this point.

“Every surface darling, every single surface until you tell me to stop”, he growls. His dark hair is hanging into his ruby eyes, giving him an aura of danger. You know him to be of no danger to you, finding the view nothing but arousing instead. You are scared though, not of him of course, but of the immense pleasure he makes you feel. No human should feel this good and yet you do. Truly, you are so scared, craving more until you can’t anymore.

“Tae please, Tae…”

He pulls his cock out and pumps it angrily. It is messed up in your blood, dripping translucent desperation. Taehyung uses the sinful concoction to pleasure himself while his crazed eyes flit to your pussy.

“You’re gaping”, he assess and growls, “my pretty gaping slut. My cock ruined you and it’s not even my true size.”

He is using contractions. Taehyung rarely uses them. You have him ruined, you truly have.

“Sir, I’m your cock slut”, you mewl, writhing desperately.

“Fuck, I want to break you.”

Thump.

He fell to his knees before you, connecting his mouth with your pussy instantly. Well fucked and creamed with his taste. Taehyung moans and slips his tongue as deep as possible. His taste of possession mixes with your blood. He growls, fucking his own cock sore from how angrily he jerks himself. He feels like an animal right now. His vampiric nature has a hold of him, there is not an ounce of sanity left in him. The only thing which keeps him grounded, is the punishing handjob he gives himself. The pain and roughness of it keeps him with you.

Taehyung isn’t the only one who experiences pain right now. You are so sensitive that his tongue feels like torture on your pussy. A torture you chase with weak squirms of your hips.

“Slow please”, you beg without meaning it, gripping the edge of the dresser, “please, ah! Please!”

Taehyung lifts his lips for your sake. He puts your feet on his shoulders, looking up at you even if you have your head rolled to the side weakly.

“Keep breathing for me”, he orders you and dives back down.

“How should I- ah!” you arch your back, digging your feet into his shoulders as you try to squirm. He is dragging his tongue through your folds quickly, taking advantage of the position to really taste every inch of you. You squirm, “please slow, please.”

“Breathe darling, breathe”, he murmurs against your pussy and concentrates his licks on your clit.

“Oh god, Tae”, you wail, dropping into the hard dresser in defeat. You have to take what he gives you. You signed up for this and now you are paying the sweetest consequences.

The last few orgasms sat deep and didn’t originate from your clit. No, Taehyung dragged them out of you from the deepest parts of your cunt. He doesn’t need the most obvious spot to make you shake and because he doesn’t, the stimulation he gives you right now feels especially good. Your clit was so left out, so neglected it felt as if he was edging it. And now you have his burning, slickened-up tongue frenching it aggressively.

“Slow please”, you beg, trying to breathe.

The only reason why you beg for him to slow down is because it is so goddamn embarrassing how fast you orgasm with him. You managed to take in one song coming from his atelier’s record player and then you are already fighting for your right to sanity. Please, just once you want to have to fight for your orgasm. Just once, you want to feel as if it will never come.

“Sir. Tae Sir. Please.”

But of course Taehyung doesn’t listen. Because Taehyung isn’t human right now and you are his feast. Taehyung hates being interrupted when he feeds. And so you are destined to find your downfall at the tip of his dripping tongue while the very fibres of this building learn the sound of your moans. And so you scream and wail and beg him for mercy. And Taehyung doesn’t listen until he has you filling his throat with your squirt. It mixes with your blood and forces Taehyung to climax all over his hand.

He growls into your pussy, scrunching his face because the orgasm feels like torture. He purposefully doesn’t allow it to feel good. He crushes his own balls and slaps his own cockhead because this is what keeps him human. He can’t allow himself to enjoy his heaven when this could mean your downfall.

“Sir! Please! It hurts! Ah please!”

You wonder if people outside can hear you. You are so close to his exit after all.

Taehyung doesn’t give you time to think of this possibility as he keeps you with him the second your endless orgasms stopped. He picks you up from the dresser and the next time you find yourself feeling at least a little sane, you are in his atelier, sitting on his lap as he occupies his couch. He uses said couch to pose you or Jungkook in the most beautiful position. Most of the time, they are very sensual poses however if you are allowed to be blunt for a second.

You drop into him, trembling atop his lap. His body is wet. Sweat, blood, squirt and his own cum. The sensations overwhelm you, forcing you to sob and tremble. Taehyung soothes it by running his hands up and down your back.

“Are you still enjoying this, darling? You are shaking so much”, he is checking up on you again. He treats you so fucking good.

You nod your head, twisting his hair weakly.

“Please more, please”, you beg him, drooling all over his shoulder because you can’t swallow anymore. Not when he has broken you so, so good.

“Such a greedy slut”, he says and picks you up to sit you down on his cock. He has grown into his vampiric size by now, resulting in him having to carry you as he moves you up and down on his length. You couldn’t possibly take him all. Not when you are already so entirely destroyed from everything he did to you. He doesn’t mind that he has to carry you. On the contrary, it is so utterly arousing to him to use you as his personal little fleshlight. Well-fucked, gaping and dripping sweet blood. There is no toy more perfect than you.

“Oh god”, you get out, pressing yourself closer to him. You can feel the remnants of his orgasm smearing all over your walls. It sounds so wet. You are so tight and swollen that it makes the nastiest sucking sounds each time he moves you up.

This wasn’t a good idea. You thought that you still had an orgasm in you, but you were wrong. The thought exhausts you. You can’t give him any more. You are used up. Utterly and truly used up.

“I can’t cum anymore”, you get out, crying tears, “please don’t make me cum again, oh god.”

“Keep being good for me. I promise, it’s not long anymore”, he encourages you, meeting his movements in the middle by rolling his hips up.

“Tae”, you whimper, soiling his skin with your tears, “sensitive. I can’t cum anymore.”

“I know darling, I know. You’re so good, such a good girl. I have to climax again. I’m almost there, keep being good for me.”

“Oh god”, you croak and hug him desperately, “Tae…”

“Almost there, darling”, he breathes and squeezes your buttocks, “help me, mhm? Do you want to help me reach it?”

“Yes, Sir. Please.”

“That’s my good toy”, he praises and kisses your cheek, “cover your fingers in your blood and feed it to me.”

You follow his orders happily, reaching behind yourself to drag your fingers through the mess your bodies make between your legs. More. You bury two of your fingers in your pussy even if his cock is already taking so much of you.

“Yes”, he growls, throbbing deep inside, “oh, so tight”, he sighs under his breath, tilting his head back as a guttural moan leaves him.

You slip your fingers out, staring at them with teary eyes. They are so messy, covered in thick blood. Taehyung stares at them as well, tightening his grip on your body as his hips chases your heat.

Your eyes meet.

He sticks his tongue out. Fangs appeared on his lower teeth as well, glistening in the lights.

“Tae”, you whimper and press your fingers down on his tongue.

He growls and closes his mouth around them, rolling his eyes back in bliss. He doesn’t bother closing his lids, keeping them open halfway to give view of his ruined state. He growls and moans, growls and moans, sucks, thrusts his hips and whimpers. His once deep, demonic voice switches into the highest, most desperate squeak and seconds later you feel him filling you with his hot cum.

You are so sensitive that even his cum painting your walls feels like too much. You drop your head on his shoulder, losing your every strength as Taehyung pumps you full of his orgasm.

Your fingers slip out of his mouth once he has to gasp for air.

“Oh heavens”, he lets out, lifting you off his cock just to drop you atop his lap. His cun squirts everywhere instantly.

He wraps his arms around you tightly, shuddering in his intense afterglow, “oh my darling”, he breathes, burying his face deep in the crook of your shoulder, “how are you doing?”

“I don’t know”, you whimper, “Sir, please don’t let go.”

Taehyung hugs you tighter, soothing your trembles with tender hands running over your body.

“I am right here, my darling. Oh, how well you did. How proud I am of you”, he speaks sweetly, washing away the aches from your heart.

Sex like tonight often times leaves you feeling embarrassed and disgusted at yourself. You can’t explain it and it isn’t your lovers’ fault. It is just hard to accept that you let yourself go in such ways once the ecstatic pleasure clears from your mind. If Taehyung would let go of you right now, you would have an actual mental breakdown. You need his comfort like you need air.

And Taehyung knows that you need it. He is shaken himself, feeling ruined from the sex and dizzy from the blood high. He needs to hold and be held just as much as you do, but he is also aware that you need so much more comfort than he does.

“You did so well”, and so he praises you, kisses your shoulder and sways you gently, “you are so precious and worthy of so much love. Oh darling, how much I love you.”

You release a trembling breath and with it so much pressure on your heart. Taehyung soothes the aches in your neck with a gentle hand, pressing a kiss to your shoulder as his whispers continue.

“I am so blessed, my sweetest darling. Thank you so much for giving me a right to your beautiful body. Oh, how I want to spend every remaining second of this day worshipping it.”

You giggle. Warmth fills Taehyung’s heart. He helped you through the hardest part of coming back. He chuckles with you, turning your head gently to press a kiss to your cheek and next your closed eyelid. You scrunch your face, chasing him with a happy giggle shaking your shoulders.

He giggles as well, smiling against your skin.

“My good girl”, he whispers, pecking your cheek, “my sweetest darling. Mhm, my sweet ___.”

“Tae”, you sigh, nudging his cheek with your nose before lifting your head to meet his eyes. You are basically glowing in happiness, “Tae…”

“Yes, my darling?”

“Thank you”, you say and scrunch your nose, “I feel so good.”

“Yes?” he smiles, cupping your cheek, “I feel good as well, my darling. You make me so proud.”

You giggle, leaning into his palm. You close your eyes and sigh, letting your shoulders fall in relaxation.

“Should we take a shower, my darling?” he offers.

“Yeah”, you nod your head, peeling your eyes open. You snicker, cupping his cheeks, “you’re so dirty. Oh god, Tae there’s blood everywhere.”

“I know, it’s wonderful”, he says and smiles playfully, “I hope that is just your period. I made sure to be careful, but you were so tender today.”

“You were perfect. It didn’t hurt at all”, you assure him and wiggle your shoulders, “I’m so happy. I really like it when you are rough with me and this was perfect.”

“Yes, yes it was perfect for me as well”, Taehyung says and hugs you close. He stands up with you in his arms, “I shall take care of you and then we shall find sleep in the library.”

“Yes, wow”, you gasp, “can you read me a story then?”

“I will read you not one, but two stories my darling”, he says, making you giggle and snuggle closer.

“Maybe three?”

“Of course, oh what a question. I will read you even four stories.”

“Wow”, you snicker and squeeze him gently, “I’m happy.”

Taehyung smiles, bouncing you in his arms gently to tighten his grip.

“I’m happy as well, darling”, he tells you, making a promise to himself to dedicate tonight solely to your happiness.

He will do an amazing job. He is your perfect darling after all.

629 notes · View notes

cowgurrrl · 1 year

Text

darlin’ i’d wait for you

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader (plus platonic Ellie Williams x fem!reader)

Author’s note: Inspired by my real life love for my godchildren. Mis almas, no hay nadie que ame más que tú. Gracias por elegirme.

Summary: “Ten fingers. Ten toes. And even if you had none of them, you’d still be the grandest thing I’ve ever seen.” - Emily Henry, Beach Read aka you and Joel have a baby [3.0k]

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, descriptions of labor and delivery (nothing graphic), swearing, lots of emotions, fluff

"You need to be resting!" Maria says as you pace the living room with your hands on your hips. Ellie is watching you move from her space in the kitchen, her knee bouncing with anxiety as she sits there.

"You need to find Joel!"

"Tommy's getting him right now. Please, just lay down."

"I'm fine," another contraction ripples through your body, and you grip the back of the couch. "Fuck! I can't believe Joel convinced me to do this again!" You yell. The pain tightens in your lower abdomen, and you drop your head to the cushions, unable to focus on anything else. Strong hands press against the small of your back, applying the perfect counter pressure to your contraction. The tension releases just enough for you to pick your head up and find Maria standing over your shoulder, a knowing look in her eyes. No words need to be exchanged for her to know how grateful you are for her presence.

The contractions have been coming and going since late last night, but you didn't think much of it. They were sporadic and not painful enough to make you think you were in labor. You had false contractions with Jane and expected the same thing with this one, except that these contractions became very real very fast. Joel was already out on patrol when you had Ellie run to Tommy and Maria's for additional help because they were getting so bad. This baby is coming soon.

"Do you have a bag ready to go?" Maria asks as the contraction ends, and you nod, pushing yourself up.

"In our bedroom closet, but it's missing some stuff."

"Okay, tell me what you need, and I'll pack it."

"I can do it."

"Honey, if you walk up those stairs, there's no way you'll make it back down." She says, and you sigh. Reluctantly, you list some last-minute things that need to get thrown in the bag and where they'll be. Maria turns on her heels and sprints up the stairs, ever a woman on a mission. Ellie walks over to you as Maria's figure disappears, standing awkwardly near you as you hold your belly.

"I'm sorry. I'm not trying to scare you." You say, wrapping her in a hug or as much of a hug as you can manage with the baby in between you. She relaxes and lets out a big breath as you rub her back.

"I feel like I should be the one comforting you."

"I've done this before. I know what I'm doing."

"Yeah, but that was before," the fear in her voice rattles you to your core, and you pull away to look at her. Her bottom lip is cracked and bleeding from her teeth worrying at it all morning, and she looks like the scared kid you met in Boston. "You really should be on the way to the hospital."

"As soon as Joel gets here, I'll go, okay?" You say, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. She shakes her head, and you open your mouth to say something more, but the vice grip returns, and you grip her shoulders. Your head bows under the weight of the pain, and you clutch Ellie like a lifeline.

"Okay, they're getting closer together. Maria!" Ellie yells as she holds you upright. You vaguely register Maria rushing down the stairs and telling Ellie something, but you don't have enough energy to listen. Time could've stopped right there, and you would've had no way of knowing. No stab wound, gunshot, or punch even comes close to this pain level. Your breathing is uneven, and you can feel yourself sweating bullets despite the cool August air. You thought you were ready. You thought you knew what to expect after Jane, but this is different. You wonder why you thought you could have another baby as the contraction fades. Maria says your name, and you pick your head up from Ellie's shoulder.

"We need to get you to the hospital right now. Joel will meet us there." She says, but you shake your head, the lump of panic in your throat tightening. Memories of begging your mom, Jane's dad, friends, or anyone to come to the hospital so you wouldn't be alone replay in your head. You were alone and scared and sixteen fucking years old when you had Jane on a stormy Tuesday morning. The nurses looked at you like a kicked puppy and mumbled, "a baby having a baby," under their breaths when they left you to cry alone while holding your newborn.

"No, no, no. Joel's not here yet. I'm not going without him."

"I promise that Tommy will bring him to you. I'm sure they're on their way back now."

"I'm not going by myself!" The harshness in your tone makes everybody in the room pause. "I've already done this alone once, and I'm not fucking doing it again. So, we are going to wait for Joel even if I have this baby on the fucking floor! Do you understand me?"

"Hey," Ellie says softly. "Hey, you're not alone. At all. We're all here because we love you and want you to be safe. Nobody is going to leave, okay?" She says, rubbing your back as tears fill your eyes.

"I can't do this." without her, you want to add, but you don't. Ellie pushes the sweaty hair out of your eyes and holds your face so you can look at her. Your breath is shaky, and you feel like you could shatter into a million pieces, but her brown eyes are looking into yours so intently that you have no choice but to look back.

"You can. You can do this. You're doing so good. You're going to have this baby, and it'll probably be the cutest fucking baby ever. And we'll all make stupid faces at it and love it even though I don't even think I like most babies, and you'll be okay. Both of you," her eyes don't move from yours as she speaks, even when you start crying. "You're not alone, but I can tell you're in pain, and we need to get to the hospital before it gets worse, okay?" She asks, and you take a shaky breath before nodding. Ellie and Maria seem to let out sighs of relief at the same time, and they start ushering you to the door when it opens.

"I'm here! I'm here! I'm sorry I'm late," Joel yells as he and Tommy run in. He smiles and runs over and kisses you. You have half a mind to smack him for looking so giddy when you're in so much pain, but let him kiss you anyway. "You ready to have a baby?" He asks as another contraction tightens in your stomach, making you squeeze him tightly. You don't get to see your family scrambling to get out the door, but you feel it. Bags and coats find owners as your entourage helps support you down the steps of your home and on the path to the hospital.

Four contractions come and go on the way to the hospital doors, where Maria, Tommy, and Ellie cheer and promise to wait there until you're ready for them. "Almost there, baby. We're gonna get you all the good drugs, okay?" Joel tells you quietly as he flags down a nurse and a wheelchair for you. The nurse asks rapid-fire questions as she rushes you into a delivery room, and Joel does his best to answer them. You curl into yourself the second your body hits the hospital bed, yet another contraction hitting you, but this time with a familiar splitting pain. You're not going to have time for the good drugs.

The rest is a blur of doctors, nurses, questions, and Joel whispering praises into your temple. Your vision struggles to focus on anything as pain radiates from your hips to your back and up your spine. It's excruciating and dizzying, and you think you'd throw up if you weren't so focused on getting this fucking kid out. "One more, baby. One more push, and then it's over." Joel tells you. You don't respond. You can't. All the blood rushes through your ears, and you squeeze his hand hard. For a moment, the whole world stops, and tears fall down Joel's face as the tiny baby is placed on your chest. You gasp and hold them close as they screech, announcing their arrival loudly.

"It's a girl!" Someone announces, and you laugh weakly, struggling to catch your breath. You look down at your daughter and kiss her head as she continues to cry.

"You're okay. I've got you. We're okay, sweetheart. You're safe," you tell her, rubbing her back. Joel reaches out to trace the apple of her cheek and grabs her tiny hand. You and Joel join her crying, everything besides your family becoming obsolete. Joel presses a chaste kiss to your lips and smiles when you laugh against him. "I told you so." You say, and he laughs.

"You were right," he says. "I'm so proud of you." He kisses you again as your daughter cries beautifully on your chest. Jane didn't cry at first when she was born, effectively scaring the shit out of you and everyone else in the room, but when she finally did, it was like you were breathing for the first time, too. You think this may be the first time since her death that you've felt that much peace.

Joel cuts the cord, and the room devolves into a controlled madness with nurses and doctors calling things back and forth to each other. You don't care. The little girl on your chest has settled down and tucked her head under your chin, listening to your rapid heartbeat and recognizing the pattern. "We're right here, baby girl. We're not going anywhere, okay?" You whisper to her, kissing her over and over again. She smiles, and you immediately recognize Joel's crooked smile— nine months of carrying her and a record-breakingly fast delivery for her to be his twin.

"Mama, we're gonna take her to get cleaned up and get her measurements, okay? The doctor's working on getting you fixed up, too." A nurse says, and you nod.

"Just be careful, please. I made her from scratch, and it took a really fucking long time." You say as you pass her to the nurse. Everyone, including Joel, laughs even though you're serious. Joel leaves your side only to follow the nurse to the other side of the room, watching her every movement meticulously. You keep eyes on both of them. She starts fussing as the nurse cleans her up, and Joel reaches out to smooth her hair. He says something to her that you can't hear and watch him start crying again. She settles down again, but Joel is a mess. The nurse offers him a tissue, and you laugh to yourself but don't do anything to get his attention.

Let them have their secret conversation. You have a feeling it will be the first of many.

She's asleep, but you can't stop looking at her. Joel is lying in the hospital bed with you as she rests in his arms, your chin hooked over his shoulder so you can stare at her. The little girl who gave you enough excitement for a lifetime is bundled up in a white blanket with a striped hat covering her dark hair. Her legs are long and skinny, but she's strong, grasping anything within reach.

She has his nose and lips, but your eyes match. Her little chest rises and falls steadily, and little sighs come from her occasionally as she sleeps. Her hand somehow escaped the swaddle, and her fingers flex around the blanket's fabric like she's trying to decide whether she likes it. Joel reaches for her tiny hand and tries to tuck it away again, but she resists, making an angry face until he lets go. You laugh and melt simultaneously at her actions.

"She's perfect," you whisper as you kiss Joel's shoulder. He hums and turns to kiss your temple. "How did we get so lucky?"

"I've no idea," he whispers back. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"Her. This. Making me a dad again." His voice is so tender and raw that your eyes mist up again. You sniffle and wipe your eyes.

"Anytime, cowboy," you rest your hand on her chest to feel the little heartbeat you made from nothing but stardust and blood. Her face scrunches up in her sleep before her little fingers find yours. "Well, maybe not anytime, but you know what I meant."

"Oh, 'm ready for another one right now."

"Never in a million fucking years could you convince me to do that again."

"You did great." He says, and you smile. You're both exhausted and should be sleeping, but you can't stop looking at the life you created together. She's not even a day old, and you know you would tear the world into a thousand pieces if she asked you to. You would do anything for her.

"D'you still like the name we picked?" You ask, and he nods.

"Do you?"

"I think it's perfect for her."

"Hey, guys," a nurse peeks her head in the door. "Are we ready for some visitors?" She asks. You nod, and Joel adjusts baby girl in his arms. Her little arm reaches up in a stretch, and she fusses when she loses the grip on your hand. You tell her you're not far, and Joel bounces her.

"Hey," Ellie says softly as she enters the room. You smile and sit up, ignoring the jarring pain in your hips at the movement. "Oh, my God. How are you feeling?" She asks as she hugs you like she's afraid she'll break you if she holds you too tight. You rub her back and kiss her head.

"I'm okay. I delivered pretty much the second they could get me to lay down."

"I knew we should've gone to the hospital sooner!" Ellie says, and Joel shushes her. She makes an eek face as she looks at him.

"A baby's tryin' to sleep here."

"Holy shit," she breathes, taking in the bundle in Joel's arms for the first time. "Girl or boy?"

"I'm pretty sure the Millers are only capable of having girls at this point," you say, and Ellie smiles. "Do you wanna hold her?"

"Can I?" She asks as Joel stands. She's unsure what to do but copies Joel's position and puts a hand under her back.

"Support her head," Joel instructs quietly as he carefully transitions your daughter into Ellie's arms.

"I got it. I got it," she says. Instinctively, she starts swaying back and forth and patting the baby's back. Joel stays nearby, watching as Ellie gets comfortable holding her. Your heart could explode seeing the three of them together. "Who are you?" She asks quietly, pulling the blanket under the baby's chin so she can see her.

"This is Charlotte Elaine Miller," you say. "Charlie, for short."

"Hey there, Charlie girl. My name's Ellie."

"She's your big sister." Joel adds. Even though he's talking to Charlie, he's looking at Ellie. She takes a shaky breath as she processes his words. He wraps an arm around her shoulders and kisses her forehead.

"I'm one of your big sisters," she says. The pregnancy hormones and the day's emotions catch up with you, and you couldn’t stop the tears even if you wanted to. Something about seeing Ellie with Charlie hits you hard. "I've got so much to teach you and tell you about when you're a little bigger, though. There's not much I can do with you right now except, well, this," She shrugs as if to make her point to the sleeping baby, and you laugh. Charlie stretches again, probably getting used to having so much room now that she's out of you, and yawns. "Oh, big yawn. Good job." Ellie praises.

"You're a natural," Joel says, making her smile.

"I dunno about that, but she does like me. Right, Charlie girl?" she asks, and the Charlie girl in question chuffs. "Oh, we're gonna have so much fun together." She says sincerely. Joel meets your eyes, sending you a knowing look and a crooked smile, and you smile back a little sadly. He works at his jaw, and his Adam's apple bobs as his eyes sparkle with tears again. No words need to be exchanged. You know. You may be one of the only people who know. Ellie rambles to Charlie, ever the present audience, and you remember, silent and pious in your devotion.

You think you'll spend your whole life remembering, a constant scramble for pieces of memories that bring her closer. You think you'll find bits of her in music, the summer sun, and your girls' eyes. You think you'll tell Charlie of her big sisters, who were loved and cherished beyond belief, and their shared adoration of Patti Smith. You think you'll be able to find a way to talk about her that doesn't feel like your soul is desperately ripping away from you. For Sarah, Jane, Ellie, and now Charlie, you think you would do anything.

Even after so much loss, destruction, and nights spent hopelessly staring at the wall like it would be enough to start Jane's heart again, you think you would do it all again. The world can be a really shitty place, and you've seen firsthand how horrible people can be to each other. You and Joel have been a million different versions of awful people, and you can never escape that. But you have Ellie and Charlie. And each other. And for a moment, in this horribly lit hospital room, every minute of that misery has meaning.

💓

taglist: @evyiione @nyotamalfoy @abbyhaslongshorts

#the last of us #joel and ellie #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller fic #the last of us x reader #joel tlou #ellie williams #joel miller the last of us #joel miller fluff #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x pregnant reader #big sister Ellie Williams #there’s such an Easter egg in the baby’s name #first person to look up the name meanings gets a kiss on the mouth #look for the light

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the-californicationist · 4 months

Text

A Thief in the Night

a Guile & Guilt story…

It had been the longest night. He had started his journey in the dark, and forty hours later, he was still cloaked in darkness. As he climbed off of the train and into his old Jeep, he tossed his bags in the back, staring hard at the velcro label that had MacTavish stitched across it, the white threads steadfast despite the wear and tear that had befallen them over the past six months. Those bags contained his whole life. Everything from his toothbrush to his diary lived inside those canvas casings, and they’d been burned, stolen, stabbed, soaked, and sand-covered as much as he had. He wished, for a moment, that he were made of canvas. He wished he were interwoven, thick and impenetrable, unfeeling, unsensing… just a container. He wouldn’t need to breathe, to fight, to sweat, or to bleed. He would just need to hold and be held. But, he was not canvas. He was made of soft skin and bruised bone. Johnny MacTavish was but a man. The only salve he had to soothe that wound was that he was coming home.

Home meant rest, which was much-needed, but it also meant Pigeon, his fiery sister. He needed a bit of that warmth right now, even if she annoyed the fuck out of him most days. She was always running her mouth about what he should be doing with his life, but he knew she only did it because she cared. So, he took his lashings with a smile.

Her fiance had been the one to call him back. It must be an engagement. Nothing less would be deemed worthy of pulling him from the field. They knew how important his work was with the SAS, but life didn’t stop back home just because he was away. It was good timing, after all. Their recent tour had yielded decent intel, and he was free to take a few days to ruminate on their findings.

The Jeep’s engine cranked over with some complaint. Hamish, the fiance, had been driving it around for him, but he’d parked it about a week ago in anticipation of Johnny’s arrival, and it had definitely gone cold. He pumped the gas, praying that it didn’t flood, and sent up a prayer when it finally roared to life.

Leaving the lights of Glasgow behind was a comfort. He wanted his little cottage and his soft bed. Johnny wondered, fleetingly, if Pidge had been having the girls over lately. Sometimes, when he came home, there’d be a shirt missing from his collection, and his sheets would smell like lavender. That’s how he knew that she had been there.

He’d ruled out the usual suspects. Bekah was never one to sleep over, and Anjali smelled of rum cakes and soap. He thought it might be Cherise, but she’d never be caught dead in one of his shirts. So, it had to be the American. Pidge was over-protective of that one. She wouldn’t even tell him her name, but he knew she liked his old football tees, so she must have good taste. He’d never even seen a picture of the shirt thief, but he slept like a rock when his sheets smelled of lavender, and he needed that tonight.

Johnny took all the corners too fast, rushing to his destination, and when he finally got into the drive, the house was dark. He’d missed supper, so he aimed for the kitchen to steal Pidge’s leftovers. When he rounded the corner, he couldn’t believe his eyes.

There she was: that thief! She was in his blue Rangers’ tee, the one with McCoist’s name on the shoulders, his favorite one. It hung off of her body like a short dress, but as she went to reach for a mug from the top shelf, teetering on those bare toes, it rode up her body, revealing her thick thighs like a peep show. He could see the heart-shaped divot of her arse cheeks, but only barely. If she reached much further, he’d see it all.

So, he had to stop her. He didn’t want her to be ashamed. Letting out a low whistle, he conveyed his approval.

She was startled, and he watched the fear flood into her eyes like tears. It made them gleam in the low light of the kitchen, but she didn’t scream. The American was pretty, but that was to be expected. She was exactly his type as well, which was a damn shame. Pidge would be furious, but he didn’t care. He’d row with Pidge for the rest of his life to have a girl like that looking at him with those big eyes, framed with those wet lashes.

He wanted to get closer to her, so he did. He took a step into the kitchen, walking slowly, careful not to spook her like a wounded deer.

Johnny knew he must have looked like a goddamn terror. He’d brought in all of his personal gear, preferring to make one big trip from the car. He probably still had eye-black on his face. More than anything, he’d wished he’d had a shower.

He glared at her, trying to snap himself out of his daze, and he confronted her about his shirt,

“You’re a pretty little thief, you are. Better gimme back my favorite shirt, hen, if you know what’s good for you.”

A little bit of a threat would make her laugh, he thought. But, he realized quickly that she really didn’t know who he was, so he softened his features and smiled a bit, trying to retrace his steps.

“Johnny?” She said it like she was making a wish, and her voice made his blood run hot.

It was good to hear his name again. He was exhausted being Soap all the time. He’d earned the nickname, and it was fine when he had a gun strapped to him in the field; it reminded him that he was tough enough to be there. But here, in his own kitchen, from a bonnie lass wearing his own shirt? It was nice to be Johnny again.

“Yeah… who are you, lass?” He asked her, hearing her name and tucking it away for later.

“Ah, Pidge won’t shut up about you,” he explained, letting her know that he’d heard of her at least, “What’re you doin’ here a’ this hour? I just got in from my tour. Got a note from Hammie that it was urgent.”

Johnny dropped his bags and ventured a little closer to join her in the kitchen. The soft light from the stove cast delicate shadows over her body, highlighting her curves where the shirt swayed over her gorgeous breasts. She looked like a dream.

All he wanted to do was touch her. She couldn’t be real. She was too perfect. It was as if he was Adam and God had stolen his rib and made her stand in his kitchen.

That kettle behind her was about to scream, so Johnny reached toward her to take it off the heat, but she flinched as if he were going to touch her. He let a low, sarcastic chuckle rumble around in his chest,

“Easy. Just keepin’ the kettle from keenin’.”

He studied her reaction like he studied the schematics of a bomb, and he was desperate to know what made her tick. As he moved the kettle, Johnny was treated to a smile, which was as sweet as could be, and a quip.

“Good to finally meet you, Johnny. I’ve heard… so much about you.”

He grimaced a bit when he heard her comment. Of course they’d been spewing all sorts of shite about him while he was away. Pidge was terrible about spreading his reputation around, and almost none of it was true. If only she knew.

But, despite all the lies about his character, she stuck her hand out for him to shake. He took it in his and shook it once, dropping it and grabbing his own tea bag from the cabinet, plopping hers and his in their respective cups. She was watching him like a hawk, and he could almost hear her thoughts she was thinking them so loudly. He’d have to do some damage control, so he grinned and said,

“It’s all lies. So, what’s the craic? What was so urgent?”

“Hamish proposed,” she said, and even though he’d figured as much, it still shocked him to hear.

“You’re takin’ the piss.”

“No, it’s true. Look,” she pulled out her phone and showed him the video.

With a bubbling, roiling joy in his chest Johnny watched his sister agree to Hamish’s proposal, and he’d never felt happier.

Johnny leaned in closer to see his sister’s reactions, and although he didn’t realize it, he was now standing right over his tee shirt thief’s shoulder. He could smell her. It was lavender, to be sure, but there was something else.

If sunlight was a smell, she had it. It was like every spring day he’d ever had as a boy, rolling around in the heather, being wild, loving the earth and all of its mischief. She smelled just like that. Like something wholly natural. It made him want to put her back there, in the tall flowers, right where she belonged… in the heather… with him.

His mind went back to his sister, and he asked about her,

“Tha’s fuckin’ brilliant. She’s asleep?”

He didn’t wait for her answer. Johnny needed to back off of the wee thief before he stole her away. Treading off down the hall, he knocked on his sister’s door. As she opened it, the wood creaked and popped from age and weight. He made a mental note to oil it tomorrow morning.

Then, there she was. Bridgette had always been pretty, but she looked like she had a glow tonight. He basked in her joy.

“Johnny-boy? Is that you, you fuckin’ numpty!? Brother,” he grabbed her as quick as he could, and as she was crushed to his wide chest, she confessed, “I’m getting married.”

“Let’s see it, then, Pidge.”

She showed him the ring, and he admired it. But, he wasn’t one for diamonds, not when there was something more valuable to be had. He cocked an eyebrow at Pidge and asked,

“You put a fit lassie in my shirt as a part of the occasion, or… what?”

She slapped him across the chest, hard, and then gave him a dark warning,

“You. Will. Not -“

“I dinnae ken what you’re abusin’ me for, Pigeon! I’m a saint!”

He loved giving her a hard time. She rolled her eyes, and fastened them into her signature glare,

“Johnathan Fergus Euan MacTavish, she’s off-limits! You’ll not lay a hand on that girl’s pretty wee head, or I swear on Mother Mary and all the actual fuckin’ saints…”

He couldn’t have that. She was already his in his mind. He’d never seen anyone more beautiful in his life, and his sister was overreacting again. Johnny pointed a finger at her, threatening,

“No promises, Pidge. If she wasn’t such a smoke show, you might have had a dog in the fight, but a gorgeous wee hen making tea in my kitchen wearing my fuckin’ shirt; it’s enough to make a lad start sinnin’.”

“Start! Tell me when you stopped. Is she out there? Oh, fuckin’ hell, you arsehole.”

Pidge pushed around him and stalked off to the kitchen. The thief was still making tea, and he watched his sister try to run interference, but she was too late.

There’d been enough war for him to last him three lifetimes. Johnny was pretty sure there was still terrorist blood stuck under his nails. Enough was enough. He was good at his job, but he had to admit, he was lonely.

Every tour brought the same darkness to his doorstep. He’d leave Pidge with Hamish, and they’d have each other. They didn’t miss him, not in any real sense. No one did. No one kept him in their mind, missing him and his scent and his voice and his touch. There was no one longing for him to return.

But the thief might.

There was something in her eyes that told him she might. And now, he had to know if he was right. Besides, no one would ever look that good in his shirts. She was his new mission, and he was damn good at running missions.

“Babe! You met Johnny?” Pidge looked red in the face, and Johnny sighed, embarrassed about his sister’s meddling.

“Yeah, just came home. Showed him the video,” you shrugged.

Good. She was covering for him already. She didn’t complain about his bullying, nor did she mention his fearsome choice of dress. She was brushing Pidge off, keeping it casual. Johnny didn’t get lucky often, but he felt like it tonight.

“Great, this is just great,” Pidge forced a smile onto her face, but Johnny didn’t care. This was great, and he wasn’t going to let this chance pass him by.

xxxxxxx

@sadsackssss @lovelythingsinternal @kariggi @cherryofdeath @madstronaut @glitterypirateduck @vampirekilmerfic @sofseee @gemmahale @ofdivinity01

#call of duty fanfic #cod mw2 #cod mwii #cod #call of duty #soap mactavish #john soap mactavish #johnny soap mactavish #guile and guilt

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simplysparrow14 · 5 months

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Pikelan is probably the most complex CR ship and more people need to realize that instead of branding it as the "haha funny gnomes" ship.

because the entirely of Pikelan revolves around Scanlan, a very charismatic bard who flirts with literally everyone around him but is head-over-heels in love with his cleric friend but is tragically dogshit at expressing it so he resorts to doing crude bits and gags that ultimatly mask who he truly is.

And then you have Pike, a cleric brimming with self-confidence, who absolutely loves Scanlan for who he is, but is constantly getting mixed signals, because on one hand, he's constantly doing crude jokes and flirting with every person he sets his sights on (even so far as going after his unknown daughter) but on another, he tenderly holds her while she's bleeding and he's constantly at her side during battle and even tends to her emaciated brother for her and it's beautiful to watch, but the moment, the moment she brings it up, he reverts back to his crass personality and it just leaves her reeling about who he truly is.

And then we get to Bards Lament, and Scanlan, after tip-toeing around his true emotions for so long, finally snaps and lets everything he's been feeling (all the pain, and self-loathing manifested as anger towards everyone else, because even in his darkest moment, he's still so dogshit at expressing it for what it truly is) and Pike, who's been wrestling with these mixed signals, finally gets his true feelings on what he feels, calling her magic weird, hating that the same magic that has kept him alive and safe for so long brought him back to his sad existence, hating her for doing it. In the end, Scanlan leaves, just as Pike left the first time and the second time. And Pike stays behind, watching as he heads towards somewhere where she cant follow, abandoning the team and her and grog and everything they've built for themselves. She loves him, and him leaving brings her to that point.

The two are split apart, and despite the anger and hurt, the need for connection with each other is so strong. Scanlan reveals that he dident fully leave Taldorei at first, that he was only 20 miles away in another town entirely, listening to Pike's earing conversations. And eventually, when Scanlan is on another continent, he finds a temple of the Everlight (or just simply begins talking to Everlight) and prays, prays for guidance on finding forgiveness for what he said and did. He's deeply in love with pike, and still is, going to her god for answers to his problems, the quickest connection to Pike that he has between one giant ocean and a continent.

And Pike, despite holding a very rightful disdain for what he said to her, keeps him up to date, informs him of her happenings with the people of Whitestone. She should fucking hate his guts and yet the person she wants to speak to at the end of her day is a bard who (for all she knows) threw his earing away and traveled to some far off place, forever gone from Vox Machina, from her. Yet she keeps speaking.

They switch roles, with Scanlan becoming the quiet solitary one seeking forgiveness for his actions and Pike becoming the people oriented one.

When they reunite, it's tense and sad and angry. So many things said in anger and hurt and they don't really know where to step in the case that something, anything might send them back to that angry, angry place. And suddenly their back at the same place they were before, before the fight.

Pike is, again, trying so hard to sift through the mixed signals he's giving because he's being Scanlan again! Charming bard, essential party member, more confident than he's ever been! but now he's standing near the back and holding his hands and apologizing with a soft voice that she hasn't heard in over a year and a half and rebuilding the bridges he's burned and she doesn't know what to think!

And Scanlan is giving an honest effort at trying to fix what he's broken. He's working harder than ever, he's apologizing. He tries very hard to have conversations with people and fixing what he can. But, again, he's Scanlan, who is less dogshit at expressing what he feels, but still pretty dogshit none the less, and now he's a crime boss and still a beloved bard, but he's also surrounded by the friends, some of them he loves so dearly and he's trying, he's trying so hard

Eventually, everything is forgiven and in the end, Pike and Scanlan come to term with themselves and each other. Pike comes to terms with knowing that Scanlan is a complex person, a broken person just trying to figure his way through this world, just as she had done.

in the end, Pike becomes the person Scanlan feels the most free to be around, one where he doesn't have to put on the mask of a performer, where he can just be Scanlan the gnome instead of Scanlan, bard extraordinaire. and Pike comes to terms with knowing that Scanlan is a complex person, a broken person just trying to figure his way through this world, just as she had done before.

and together, they are beautiful reflection of each other.

#critical role #yes theyre haha funky gnomes but theyre more than that and more people need to see it #Pikelan is a good ship ya'll just lacked critical reading skills #between him seeking forgivness through reflection and her choosing to liver her best self through socialization #between Scanlan being the reason Pike's ressurection succeeded and Pike being the reason Scanlan's ressurection succeeded #to Scanlan watching pike walk away when she needed her time away to Pike watching Scanlan walk away when he needed to leave #Pike and Scanlan invented being parallel mirrors of each other #pike trickfoot #scanlan shorthalt #pikelan #critical role c1 #the legend of vox machina #critical role spoilers #tlovm #tlovm spoilers #pike and scanlan are romantic foils as well as character foils and its a beautiful back and forth that they have

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reneeluv154 · 6 months

Text

Frostbite

Hope you enjoy🤍🤍🤍

In this imagine Newt finds out you have frostbite and takes care of you.

(More on my profile if you like this.)🫶🏼🫶🏼

I was cold, so cold but I wouldn’t let the others know, we had been walking in the scorch for weeks, although I wouldn’t call it the scorch anymore. It was cold, cold enough to make your lips blue and your skin crack and bleed. Newt tried to offer me his gloves when it first started getting cold two days ago but I denied them, instead wrapping them up in my sock’s.

Now the sock’s were just to hide my gruesome frostbite rather than keep them warm. “Guys, let’s stop here, we’ve been waking for far too long.” I couldn’t agree with Minho more, the blisters on the back of my heels and my toes making it to where I could barely walk.

“Y/n are you okay?” Thomas asked wearily before watching me stumble to the ground. “Woah hey.” Thomas tried to catch me but I hit the ground with him and Newt on either side of me. I began to weep which then turned into sob’s of anger. I punched the ground, “I’m fucking done! Do you hear me!” I screamed out as loud as I could, causing a vicious pain to shoot through my head. Everyone was crouched down forming a circle around me, fear and worry plastered on their faces.

“Hey, take a breath Y/n.” Newt was calm with a comforting hand on my back, the other on the sand, trying to keep from slipping. I violently sucked in air never fully finishing a breath. I truly couldn’t breathe. I looked at him with panic in my eyes as I tried to breathe, tears still rolling down my cheeks. “Okay, everyone back up.” His voice was stern enough so they understood but calm enough to not scare me. He gently grabbed my face.

“You’re gonna be okay. Focus on my heartbeat alright?” He grabbed my hand, placing it on his chest gently, leaving me to feel the calm, steady beating of his heart. After a few minutes, my breathing slowed, and my tears were gently wiped by his simple calloused hands. “You're okay.” He whispered, bringing me into a tight hug. I believe more for him than for me. He knew I never liked hugs. Although I had always wanted one from him, I hugged him back knowing that’s what he needed at the moment. I didn’t want to let go but loosened my grip leaving him to let go.

“Thomas, help me walk her over to that building.” He nodded over to what was more like a small shack a few feet away. So with Thomas on my left and Newt on my right we carefully walked over to the shack, taking a few minutes to settle down. I sat on a small crate while the others cleared spots to sit and sleep for the night. I was staring at the ground when Newt came, sitting down beside me, offering me a cup with something in it. Not bothering to zone back in, I shook my head.

“It’ll warm you up.” He said, setting it by my foot on the ground and kneeling in front of me. “Can you take these off for me?” He asked gently, laying a hand on top of mine. I finally zoned back in still not looking directly at him but carefully taking the socks off my hands trying not to let the fabric pull on the cracked skin.

His eyes widened when he saw the purple and blue, bloody knuckles and fingertips. ‘Fry, can you make a fire real quick?” He asked, not taking his focus off of my hands. “Already on it, Newt.”

“Why didn’t you tell someone Y/n?” He asked gently, trying to warm my hands with his own as well as blowing on them.”I don’t know.” I was quiet, barely even audible. “My feet are pretty bad too.” The look he gave me was the sweetest yet saddest thing I had ever seen. “They don’t have frostbite, just lots of blisters.” He nodded. “Go ahead and take your shoes off, the cold should make them feel a little better.”

I nodded, taking my shoes off while he went and grabbed a thin blanket we had stolen from W.I.C.K.E.D. wrapping it around my shoulders. He was right, the cold felt good on my hot blistered feet. “Here, let’s go sit by the fire.” He handed me the hot cup making my hands sting but I knew that meant it was helping. I was caught slightly off guard when he picked me up and carried me to another crate, this one close by the fire, my feet still being cooled off by the patch of cement underneath me.

I decided to sit on the ground closer to the fire. Newt came and sat on the crate behind me, his legs on either side of me. “Newt?” I asked and received a small hum while he set down his cup which I learned was just hot water, and started to play with some strands of my hair. “Is it okay if I just give up?”

“Give up?” He questioned. “Yeah, If I just quit trying to make it out alive.” I was ashamed of asking such a question but I knew he wouldn’t judge me. He grabbed both my shoulders leaning in close to my ear. “Y/n you can not give up, I won’t for one second let you believe that you can give up because I would never let you do such a thing.” And for the first time in a long time, a small smile made its way onto my lips. It felt so good to smile, especially with someone like Newt.

Around an hour later he had braided my hair and wrapped up my hands now everyone was getting ready for sleep. “Where are you sleeping, love?” He hadn’t called me that since the first time I came to the glade but it made me feel special.

“Can I…sleep next to you tonight?” He nodded, “Of course, c’mon.” He laid out some clothes on the ground and used a jacket as a pillow. “Go on, I'll tuck you in.” He smiled, so I laid down letting him lay two blankets overtop of me, given that was all we could spare. He then laid down, a small bit of space between us. “Goodnight Y/n.”

“Goodnight Blondie.”

I woke up a tad bit cold and a bit scared. There was thunder and rain all around us. The small shack was the only thing keeping us safe and that wasn’t promising. I moved over to where Newt was lying and rested my head on his shoulder, he wrapped an arm around me and pulled me closer. “Are you okay?” He whispered, his voice still sleepy making me blush. “Yeah, I’m a little cold but more scared than anything.” Just then lightning struck close making me jump. “Shhh it’s okay. I’m here, I’ll keep you safe I promise.” He rubbed my back and gave me a small kiss on the head now wrapping both arms tightly around me. Humming a small song, which soon put me to sleep.

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honest-moth-of-silver-grove · 7 months

Text

🩸 BG3 Villains as Yandere Types 🩸

TW: Yandere; Mentions of Abusive Behavior

...

Gortash:

Possessive. Gaslights. Authoritarian. But oh so convincing. He can make you agree with him on anything, everything. He’s so smart, insultingly so, and he’s worked so hard to get here. He just wants what's best for the people, and what’s best for you. Don’t you see? Why fight him? He’s just trying to help. There are so many foes out there that would harm him through you. You need to trust his expertise. You need his protection. That’s right dear. Just listen to whatever he says. After all, he knows best, right?

Orin:

Sadistic. Cruel. Monstrous. She loves watching you bleed- literally and figuratively. The fear in your eyes, the way the blood rushes to your head- it spurns her on further. She enjoys all your twisted screams and pleads as she carves her mark into you. But don’t worry, pet. She’ll let it heal. It’s not like you don’t have more skin to mark elsewhere. But do not become numb to her torture. If you’re not a fun plaything anymore, she will get rid of you. There’s plenty more of you, there’s only one of her. You should give Bhal your praises, for gifting you with his chosen daughter’s company. Enjoy it. While it (you) lasts.

The Emperor:

Calculative. Protective. Intelligent. He can read your thoughts, he knows you better than you know yourself. He has a roadmap to your psyche, you can bet he uses it. He’ll tell you what he knows you want to hear. He tells you what to do to stay safe. He’s so adept at reading people. He’ll make sure you know the truly debauched and evil intentions of everyone else around you. In the end, if it ends up he’s the only one you can trust. Don’t get upset, since he’ll feel that too. And you won’t want to hurt him like that, right?

Mizora:

Dominant. Seductive. Manipulative. She’s the puppet master who intends to tie you up in her strings. Not by direct force. No, she doesn’t need that. She’ll wait til you’re isolated. Till you’re vulnerable. Then she’ll offer her services, looking like a savior, only to reveal once it’s too late she’s carnally a devil in disguise. But where could you go, pet? You made an agreement. Trust me, you don’t want to back out on your word. Your fate tied to her is much more pleasant than whatever torture you’d be subjected to in hell. Trust me dear, just follow her every instruction and keep her pleased.

Raphael:

Possessive. Sadistic. Insecure. He’s the overpowered bully on the playground. The one with the upper hand. He knows you’re not on even ground, and that’s how he likes it. Deep down, both of you know, you’re stronger than he’ll give you credit for. But that just makes him lash out all the more. Defy him, and he’ll spend every waking moment reminding you who’s in charge here. He loves your fighting spirit, however. Not because he wants you to keep challenging him, but because he loves breaking you down piece by piece.

Kar’niss:

Delusional. Explosive. Devout. He exists to worship the absolute. And now that he has you, you will be forced to as well. There’s no reaching him. The voices in his fractured mind cannot be reasoned with. He is volatile and unpredictable, lashing out over the little things, his outbursts will keep you on your toes. But play along with his delusions, and he’ll worship as second only to his Queen. He’ll be soft. Until you slip. Because of course, you will. He’ll find it in you, an impure thought. A mistake. He sees failure in all other worshipers- you are no exception. Escape if you can because your soul and most importantly your mind, cannot make it out of this arrangement in one piece.

Ascended! Astarion:

Possessive. Vengeful. Antagonistic. He was a slave before, never again. Now he calls all the shots. He makes all the decisions. Of course, he may have a soft spot for you. But you are not equals. You are his. You belong to him. He will degrade you, then reward you as he sees fit. He does spoil you. But you have no autonomy. No mind of your own. You are simply a pretty little doll for him to dress up and play with. This is your future, your eternity. A life of subjugation under a former slave. How ironic.

Godhood! Gale:

Jealous. Distrustful. Sensitive. He remembers very well what it was like to be on the losing side of an unjust relationship. Like Astarion, he’s decided to never let things get that way again. Here, he has the power. The authority, the control. He knows what’s best. You cannot dismiss him, or diminish his feelings. And although he promises to never minimize yours, you know he’ll rationalize away any one of your feelings he doesn’t agree with. He’s not cruel. He loves you. He needs you. You cannot leave him. He cannot be hurt again. For your sake, and the sake of the world, do not ever rebuff him. There’s no telling what he might do.

Absolute! Tav:

Power-Hungry. Cutthroat. Self-Serving. They see it all as a means to an end, and that includes you. No matter who you are, no matter how you’ve come to grab their attention, do not mistake this interest as worthiness. You are of no importance, merely a novelty at best. One in a million, you best hope you stay interesting enough to interfere with. Otherwise, you’ll be tossed in the scrap pile with the rest of the mindless humans, being contorted and twisted to do their will.

… … …

A/N: Oops. Went to post this and realized I left out Ketheric. My bad. Maybe I will edit and update to include him in the future.

#yandere bg3 #bg3 imagine #bg3 x reader #baldurs gate imagine #baldurs gate 3 x reader #hc #bg3 #yandere #tw: abuse #tw abuse #tw yandere

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abibliophobiaa · 10 months

Text

Beyond — s.h. x f!reader

Chapter Ten: Can’t Take My Eyes Off Of You

summary: you head home for the holidays with steve.

warnings: holidays are celebrated with family (left ambiguous); semi-public sex, oral and p in v; smut. (5k words).

modern day!rich!fake husband!steve harrington.

story masterlist

——

Days bleed into a week, and soon a week bleeds into a month and you’re once again getting on a plane, this time with Charlie in tow, headed to the place you called home before making your place with Steve your new one.

With your excitement bubbling up to the surface, you hop out of the car with your bags in hand, and Steve rushing over to help you with them, waving to where your sister stands and waves in hearty greeting. Your fur child bounds into the home with much preamble, giant paws rushing forward to crash into Caroline, standing on the front step slapping her thighs and shouting “Come here, boy!”

She basically ignores you as you enter, earning a little ruffle on the crown of her head from Steve’s fingers, which she swats away with little effort, beaming up at the man she’s only met a couple times now, and throwing her arms happily around his neck.

He chuckles, grinning widely over her shoulder as he hoists her up into his capable arms, locking eyes with you in your doorway. And if you didn’t already feel so much love toward him you could burst as of late, you would now.

Caroline is glowing. Grinning from ear to ear as he twirls her around and settles her down on the ground, those greedy eyes of hers locking on the bag Steve brought that’s quite literally full to the brim with gifts for family and friends.

“What’s in there?” she asks, bouncing on her tippy toes as you and Steve remove your jackets, Steve’s fingers waving to where your father rises in the living room. “Are those gifts?”

“Yes, but you’ll have to wait to open them,” Steve chuckles, reaching over to grab your hand and tug you beside him, brushing a kiss against your cheek. “Where should we unpack everything?”

“You’ll be staying in my daughter’s room,” your father explains, coming forward to hug you both. “Gifts can go in the living room. Dressers in the bedroom are cleaned out and the closet is empty too. Charlie boy, come with me while they get situated.”

“Your bedroom, huh?” Steve muses quietly as you walk through the home, suitcases rolling behind you down the hall.

“Yeah.” Your cheeks grow warm, a heat crawling up your neck swelling as his eyes meet yours. “Don’t make fun. It probably hasn’t changed since before I started undergrad.”

“Just wanna see where you grew up, is all,” he says, and there’s a hint of mischief in his eyes that you’ve grown more acquainted with these weeks.

Grow acquainted with once again as soon as he enters, taking in the lavender walls, the dark furniture, your vanity. The bed is still as you remember, with white sheets and a plush comforter that your back meets as your husband pushes up against your chest, mouth sliding languidly over your own.

A hum spills from you before you can think any better of it, thighs falling apart to make space for him between your legs, throat bubbling with a moan as he rocks his already stiffening cock against the seam of your jeans, pressure just right against your clit. A vague awareness settles over you as those perfect fingers slide into the front of your jeans, seeking out your warmth, over where he finds you already wet for him.

“Steve,” you mutter breathlessly, head tipping back against a pillow as he kisses along your throat, “anyone can hear right now.”

He flops over onto your side, bringing you with him. Fingers glide up and along your thigh, settling in the back pocket of your jeans to pull you closer, warmth pooling where his skin touches yours through your clothes. Your forehead presses up against his, fingers tangling with his free hand.

“Welcome to my humble abode, Harrington.”

“I like it,” he muses, glancing about the room. “Weird to think of a time when I didn't know you. I’ll have to ask for all the old photo albums. Isn’t that what these holidays are for?”

“You wouldn’t,” you gasp jokingly, swatting at his abdomen with your entwined hands.

But he does. You spend that first night sitting around the kitchen table with Caroline nearly leaning over Steve’s shoulder, trying to get a glimpse of photos from your teenage years.

Most of which are full of braces and wide eyed youth. Eddie with his arms around your shoulders after graduation, Robin and the two of you on the hood of your first car. Dustin and you, when you babysat him. Later, pictures of you and Eddie with Dustin, Lucas, Max and Mike playing DND with the kids, their bored expressions and your overeager grin to try and compensate for their lack of enthusiasm.

Your father even pulled out the younger pictures. Years when your mother was still around, her smiling face, your parents with their two girls. Pictures of you and Eddie in the trailer park, your front teeth missing and his hair shorter, your knees scraped and muddy, and his jeans always torn and tattered.

After, Steve talks about his job while your sister dozes against his shoulder, having told him all about her TikTok page and showing him the endless videos she’s made. Your smile grows at the sight of them, his arm around her shoulders, the blanket you draped over her lap drawn tight around her body.

He seems at ease. Comfortable in a place he’s really only been in once. And when you later crawl into bed, with his arm slung low around your hip, there’s a stark understanding that this home was your home for the longest time.

Until you were nineteen and moved away for school, until you made a life for yourself in the city.

Now — now home resides in the man sleeping soundly beside you. Months ago, the thought would have scared you, made you want to run away from the immensity of it. Now, you only feel this tangible closeness. This understanding that as much as you are his, he is yours, in the way that feels untouchable. Wholly yours, and stronger every day that passes.

——

Snow falls over Hawkins throughout the night. Not the fluffy kind like in the city — the kind that turns to slush. No, it’s thick and wonderful and blankets the earth in a white halo, your sister’s excited laughter from down the hall rousing you from your slumber beside Steve.

A low yawn falls from his lips, the arms slung low around your waist pulling you tight against a broad chest, his nose mouth already finding its place near the curve of your neck, lavishing your skin in delightful kisses that have you wanting to fall back into bed with him over and over again.

But you know your sister, and you know her excitement over gift giving, and therefore understand that it’s only a matter of time before someone is banging on your bedroom door and demanding the two of you come into the living room to join her in her chaos she calls fun.

“Where’s Charlie?” Steve hums, rubbing at his eyes as you roll over in the bed, running your fingers along the lines of his abdomen. “I didn’t feel him by my feet.”

“I’m pretty sure your son betrayed you for his aunt,” you tease, winding your arms around his waist, chest brushing his as you lean in to give him a quick peck. “Good morning.”

He presses another longer kiss to your lips, smiling into your skin as he rolls you over until you’re straddling him. Thighs splay on either side of his hips, his fingers gripping at the dough of your thighs, rolling you over his already hard cock. It’s a tortuously slow drag, his head rubbing just so against your clit, eliciting a pitiful wine from softly parted lips.

A few more days — a few more days and you’ll be back in the city, and in the privacy of your own home. Until then, it’s wandering hands beneath the dinner table. It’s gentle brushes of skin as you ready for bed at night, a giggle as he pulls you into a room when no one is looking, ready to kiss the breath out of you. Simply trying to find moments where the two of you can simply connect.

Last night, it had been him tugging your sweats down and pushing your panties to the side. It had been his hand curling over your mouth as he slipped into you from behind, muffling your sobs as you quivered and clenched around his cock, stealing the very breath from his lungs.

“As much as I would love to watch you come on my cock right now,” he exhales, cunt throbbing as he tugs you closer so you’re laying on him. “I think I just heard your sister’s bedroom door open.”

“And we will hear a knock in…” You pause for a moment, pressing your hand to his sternum, “three…two…one.”

Three short taps echo through the bedroom, Steve’s hands there to help you up and off his lap as your sister hastily scrambles into the room, her nose wrinkling at the sight of the two of you.

Your legs are still in Steve’s lap, his hair a bit of a mess, and you’re certain you look interesting enough as well, tossing and turning all night without the comfort of Steve’s bed back home.

“I’m awake,” she grumbles, rubbing at her tired eyes as she walks the short distance to your bed, draping her body over your chest, just as Charlie hops up onto Steve’s lap. “Charlie doesn’t like to sleep, does he?”

“He’s just a puppy still,” Steve laughs, patting the dog’s head, his pink tongue falling from his lips at Steve’s affections. “But now you know why we asked if you really wanted him to stay with you last night.”

“Did you make coffee?” you ask her, exhaling as your hand runs up and down her back, Steve rolling over to teasingly shove her hand away when she pokes at his shoulder. “If you make us coffee, I’m sure Steve over here will let you open your presents from us.”

“Bribing your sister?” Steve gasps, mock aghast, a hand splaying over his heart.

“Done,” she giggles, rolling off of you.

Her feet hit the carpeted floor with a thud, legs carrying her out of the bedroom faster than she arrived. Charlie prances after her, his little yips and excited barking making your father shout down the hall for Caroline to calm down this early in the morning.

“Should we get up?” he asks, laughing at your muffled moan into his chest, face pressing against his sternum. “I wanna give you your present too.”

“Steve, we said no presents because we just had that second honeymoon —”

“I wanted to spoil my wife,” he murmurs, tilting your head up with a finger curling around your chin. “Let me.”

“You’ve spoiled me enough these past few weeks,” you tease, clambering off his lap, pulling off your ratty old tee shirt, his eyes zeroing in on your bare chest, before sliding a sweater over your head. “But seriously, Steve. Better not have been anything extravagant.”

He shoots a smirk your way, and you walk down the hall and out of your childhood bedroom, meeting your father where he sits in the living room, Charlie presently sprawling over his lap and trying to smother his face in wet kisses. Caroline has already separated the gifts into piles, coffee cups for you and Steve set out on the coffee table.

With a grateful sigh at that first sip, you both settle down onto the couch, watching as Caroline opens gift after gift from your husband. Things you hadn’t even known he’d purchased her.

“I bought her clothes,” you say a little icily, though there’s no heat to back the words up when you catch Caroline’s bright and beaming smile as she opens new ring lights and other technology for what you know is meant to be her growing TikTok obsession. “But — she seems to be enjoying herself…”

Steve curls his fingers around your shoulder, brushing a kiss to your temple as Caroline opens her last package, and within is a new iPhone. The latest model — and one of the gifts you allowed. She’d been needing one, her old one nearly on its way out. But it’s her reaction that has your eyes watering, her shrill screaming that nearly rattles the walls of the home, pre-teen throwing herself onto your laps with strangling hugs and screeches of thankyouthankyouthankyou.

Your father is next, with new wines for his wine rack, tickets to see one of his favorite music artists, and plane tickets to visit the two of you in the city. His mouth twists into a wobbly smile, his thanks a hug with his son-in-law that has you nearly melting on the spot.

You wonder briefly if Mr. Harrington ever hugged his son like this — even once. A giant bear hug, his arms locked tight around Steve’s back. It breaks your heart to know he likely hasn’t — that for so long the man who holds so much love in his heart it can overflow with it has gone without.

Especially from the one person who should have.

Can even see your answer on Steve’s face as he settles back down beside you. The look of pure joy across his features, uncontainable, and the line of tears building along his lower lashes you brush away with a gentle swipe of your thumb.

Clearing his throat loudly, Steve asks Caroline to pull out the small little box nestled by her kneecap. A box precariously shaped like a ring which has your name on it in beautifully curly calligraphy.

“Steve…” you mutter, a little breathless, heart in your throat as Caroline rests the box in your palm.

“Open it,” he says softly, mouth at your temple, arm around your frame as you pull at the box and open it to reveal a diamond band with a curve to perfectly sit around your engagement ring. “It’s just a little something. Look at the inside.”

And there, engraved in a sprawling font, are yours and his first name initials and the date of your wedding, and the words ‘I do’ beside that. Your gaze flickers upward, to the curve of his lips, and you’re kissing him. A breathless thing that has Caroline gagging dramatically, earning a scolding from your father.

As you pull back, Steve lifts the ring and you raise your left hand, watching his thumb graze your ring finger lovingly before sliding it in place. Three rings sparkle up at you, his hand still around yours as he kisses you once more.

“I’d do it again,” he says, and you know what he means. “I’d do it all over again.”

I’d do it all over again and marry you.

And you’d do the same.

——

The winter air chills you through your winter coat, boots clicking on slushy snow as Steve steers you through the parking lot and up to the Hideout. Recently renovated, and sprawling with bodies, intent on seeing Corroded Coffin for an exclusive hometown show.

The place is crawling with people — vastly different from the times you would sit on a barstool in the back and cheer on your best friends from high school, with only a few other patrons in the vicinity. You can’t think of anyone more deserving of this than Eddie, though. Years spent working his way up, trying to be the best at his craft, and now skyrocketed to fame.

Steve guides you over toward where Chrissy, Robin and Nancy are already situated around a table, all of which oooing and aaahing over Nancy and your new rings. Robin had finally gone ahead and proposed after months of living together. A small engagement within their own apartment, shared over glasses of wine and champagne and exactly what both wanted.

Chrissy is practically bouncing on her feet. Excited to see her new boyfriend perform for the first time. The actress looks stunning as ever in her all black dress that might be a little too formal for the crowd, but looks positively chic on her frame.

“I’m gonna go get us drinks,” you whisper, leaning up onto your toes to press a kiss below your husband’s ear. “Save my spot, will you?”

His hand is warm against your lower back as you slip through the crowds with sights set on the bar. The opening band has already started their set, the strumming of guitar strings greeting your ears as a familiar voice breaks above the crowd.

“What the heck are you doing in town, beautiful?” Chance asks as you approach the bar, coming forward without even a moment’s thought, wrapping his arms around your shoulder. “Thought you were a big shot veterinarian in the city now. Married too. I saw all the magazine articles at the supermarket.”

“Oh,” you laugh uneasily, rubbing your left hand unconsciously against your opposite bicep as the bartender asks for your orders. “Yeah, almost done with school. And yeah, married. Happily married.”

“You look great,” he muses, elbow dropping down to rest against the countertop. “Seriously. Just so crazy to see you here again. Seems like forever.”

“I pop in from time to time,” you tell him, heat creeping into your cheeks from his compliments. “I’ve been so busy it’s hard to get over here as often as I’d like.”

“How is your family? Gosh, how are you?”

And he’s beaming. Grinning at you in a way that reminds you of those early days of your relationship — when everything had been rose-colored glasses and champagne bubbles in your belly. But now you feel nothing, only the creeping desire to be back at Steve’s side, enveloped in his warm embrace, comforted by his mere presence.

Chance prattles on about his life. How he’s the new head coach at Hawkins High for the basketball team. You’re shocked to hear it, knowing he’s loved the sport for years now, brows rising at his words as he continues, the bartender seemingly taking forever to make your drinks.

But you laugh all the same at his jokes, feel yourself easing into the bar as he continues, the ghost of a smile crawling across his lips as his gaze roams over your features, before settling on something over your shoulders.

You shouldn’t be surprised when you feel Steve’s hand low against your back, nor should you be when his lips press against the crown of your head, his words stern as he says, “I’m so sorry to interrupt, I just need my wife to help me with something. Nice meeting you, my name is Steve.”

“Chance…” he trails off, just as you’re tugged away from the bar and down the back halls leading to the bathrooms.

Your mouth opens to protest, but Steve’s quick to quiet you with a rushed, “Get in.”

The door locks behind you with a harsh click, your eyes needing a moment to adjust to the yellowy light. His hands are on you before you can think, turning you to face your reflection in the mirror, just as his mouth descends on your throat. Your left hand crawls up your chest and onto his cheek, gentle hum spilling on a swift exhale as he sucks greedily at that spot he knows reduces you to a puddle, cock already hard against the fullness of your ass.

“Steve,” you whisper, turning around to face him.

Hands rest against his chest, noting the rapid rise and fall of his breath, the way his eyes are so dark they’re practically molten. And then he’s gripping you hard and fast. Fingers around the back of your neck, bringing your mouth to his in a bruising kiss, your feet pulling up onto your toes as you grip at his collar, dragging him nearer to you.

“He looked at you like he wanted you,” he murmurs. “Your ex, right? Don’t blame him, honey. You drive me crazy, you know that, right?”

He begins trailing kisses along the column of your throat, smirking to himself as he tugs the top of your dress down, sucking along the top of your breast, before dragging the cup of your bra down and trailing across your sensitive flesh. He breaks free from your nipple with a loud pop, mouth swallowing your unspoken words with another searing kiss.

“God, I’ve missed you.”

“Steve,” you rasp out hollowly, his fingers creeping along the hem of your dress, inching the floaty skirt up and up until he can feel the edge of your underwear, index and middle finger seeking out your already slick center. “Oh — nnng — been only a couple of hours.”

“And even that’s too long, honey.” He rubs lazy circles against your clit, relishing the way your body trembles in his arms, mouth curving up at the low whine that punches from you when he dips a finger in, opening you up for him. “Wanna kiss you here. Can I?”

You shouldn’t — you’re in a public place, you know that. But there’s something alluring about the image of Steve Harrington dropping down onto his knees before you that reduces your thoughts to nothingness, head dipping rapidly as you press your lower spine to the sink countertop for support, heart hammering loudly in your ears. He tugs your underwear down your thighs, the skirt of your dress ruffling prettily against your hips, tucking the lacy scrap of material into his back pocket.

“So fuckin’ pretty.” His breath dances along your core, hot and inviting, tongue teasing along your clit, pressing a gentle kiss to the inside of your thigh. Those hazel eyes look up into yours as he flattens his tongue and licks into you, murmuring, “Keep your eyes on me, baby” into your heated flesh. “Look at me.”

He’s an expert at this point on unraveling you. Has spent the better part of weeks fucking you against practically every surface of your home, learning the best ways to have you crying out his name. But there’s something salacious about it now — how he feasts on you in the dimly lit room, people outside, the sounds of your slick and his greedy moans spurring on your racketing desire.

Drives you closer and closer to the edge fast, chest heaving wildly with your panted, “I want your cock.”

He grips the backs of your thighs tighter, sucking on your clit until your eyes roll back in your head, fingers tangling in his hair tight. You’re jealous of his hand rubbing against his own cock, hard in his jeans, straining against tight denim, and you grip him tighter with a whine.

“Steve.” His eyes flicker up to your face as you shamelessly beg for him. “Need you to fuck me. Right now. Please.”

Never keen on making you wait, Steve turns you around, your hips bumping against the countertop, hands splayed against the cool marble. Behind you, you catch the image of Steve loosening the buckle on his belt, the metal clasp clanging in your ears, followed up by the tug of his zipper downward. His cock is freed and the dress is hiked up over the swell of your ass, back arching a little needy for him.

“Ready for me, sweetheart?”

You drop down to your elbows, feeling the tip of him against your entrance, keening with the ache to be full of him. To be so full until all you see is stars dancing behind your eyes.

When he pushes in, you both sigh at the way it feels like coming home. A deep, throaty sound that spills into the empty bathroom, hearts pounding in tandem as he pulls back slowly before pushing forward to the hilt.

A hand drops to the curve your ass, spreading you open for him, watching as his cock disappears over and over again within you, slick with your need.

“Come on, baby,” he grounds out, the slap of his hips against the backs of your thighs echoing in the bathroom, driving your lust higher. “Let everyone know how good your husband fucks you.”

A white hot pleasure zings up your spine and you’re coming, fluttering, crashing around him, crying his name as his hips falter in their rhythm, his own end approaching. He’s spilling into you, warm between your thighs, body folding over your back as his kisses splay across the column of your spine. You’re vaguely aware he’s speaking. Terms of endearment and affection, whispers for you to stay still so he can clean you up.

Your chest is still heaving as he pulls the edges of your dress back down, hand reaching for your underwear in his back pocket when he teases, “No.”

“No?” you huff out with a pout, pressing a kiss to his neck, right where his pulse still thrums away.

“I’m keeping them.” He cradles you in his arms, your chest pressing against his, the warmth of him blocking out the chill in the air. “Because I’m not done with you yet.”

A chill runs up your spine at his words, fingers wrapping around his free hand as he unlocks the door and an annoyed looking patron rushes in, cursing at the two of you for whatever they think you just did in the bathroom.

And as you approach the table, Eddie’s voice nearly shouting your name as you rush forward and crash into his arms, you can’t help but think this is the best holiday season you’ve had in a long while.

Here, with the people who matter most. Here, as Eddie eventually gets up onto stage and plays his heart out. As your friends all gather together, mouthing along to the words of the songs. Chrissy nearly falling into you in her drunken excitement, Robin and Nancy blissfully in their own world, Steve standing at your back, with a hand around your hips.

Here in the place you once called home with the people who now are home. Those you can run to, find cover, fall into. And behind you, the man whose heart is your home. A soft pillow to land on, a place to rest your head, the one your soul has unknowingly longed and searched for.

The one you have now found.

Perfect.

——

You’re gasping. Breath falling in short pants, fingers spreading over Steve’s back, nails scraping into the heft of his muscle. His hips roll down into yours, endless strokes that have you seeing white, his words against your ear soft praises that make you whine soft and pretty in his ears.

The rest of the world sleeps within the home, except for you, Steve and the moonlight that spills in through your softly parted windows.

He’s hiking your thigh up around his hip, your back arching into the mattress, foot digging into his lower back. And he’s hitting that spot inside over and over again that has you muffling your moan into a pillow, his own face pressing into your sternum as he comes.

Chests heave with heavy breaths, bodies rolling over to seek one another — like magnets in the night, coming in close and tangling tight. His arms around your waist, your arms around his, hearts beating hard against sternums.

He lifts your left hand, kisses at the bands there, toys with the newest ring and rests it over his chest. Over his heart where you now reside. Your gaze follows the pathway, where you can feel it thrashing behind his ribcage, threatening to break free.

His eyes meet yours in the darkened room, mouth dropping against yours for a long, searing kiss that has your head spinning, swimming, spiraling. “Honey…”

It’s a whisper. A long sigh.

You lean into his palm as it rises to rest against your cheek, his thumb stroking long lines against your pretty features. Comforting, gentle, loving.

“Your ring,” he mutters after a while, sliding off the newest one, holding it up in the moonlight. “I want you to know, if I could do it again, I would mean every word. I would marry you again, in every universe.”

“Steve…”

“I love you,” he whispers, “I’ve never felt this way before, but I know it. I’m in love with you, sweetheart.”

And there it is. The words you’ve felt rattling around in your mind. The words you’ve been holding on your tongue for safe-keeping, waiting for the perfect moment to release them into the open.

I love you. I do. I love you. I do.

You lean down and kiss the planes of his face. The tops of his cheek, the curve of his jaw. His temples and forehead. The bump of his chin. The plush of his bottom lip, the bow of his upper lip.

When you fully press your lips against his, he rolls you beneath him, shoulders on either side of your head, keeping his weight off of your form. And he looks at you — he looks at you like he holds the world beneath him. Like you’re delicate and yet fierce and wholly his.

And you know in your heart you are. You are his, he is yours. Equally so.

“I’m in love with you, Steve,” you tell him, brushing at his cheek, feeling him smile as he leans into your palm. “I have been for a while now.”

So he loves you like that. Deeply and languidly, in the dying moonlight. Softly, until you shudder beneath him with his name a prayer on your lips. Until you catch your breath once more and roll over beside him and his arms find your waist in the night. Until you’re so wrapped within him that you don’t know where he starts and you end. And maybe that’s how it’s always been, how you know it’s always been meant to be, the promise of your vows and your love the sweetest balm to lull you both into blissful rest.

——

figured the lovebirds deserved some happiness before the next two chapters. two more, and then the epilogue to go. let me know what you think, please. comments/reblogs/likes are encouraging to your creators. 🩷🩷

#steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader smut #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #lunalovessteve

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charliemwrites · 3 months

Text

I’ve been thinking about “mean” (okay no they’re mean) characters.

Specifically, I’m thinking about Rook “Duke” Alistair being best friends with Actual Assassin and meanest bastard around, Velikan.

They’ve known each other since her early days back in the Air Force. Maybe Duke, freshly nicknamed and bright-eyed, got caught up in some sort of ambush with a shiny new unit.

And maybe Velikan was going to kill her as collateral, but for reasons not even he knows, he didn’t.

And now he’s got this duckling (she’s even blond and fluffy like one) that’s practically imprinted on him. Every time they cross paths (and they keep crossing paths for some fucking reason) she lights up and waves, babbling updates about her life. She doesn’t mind his gruff tone or his short temper, or the absolute mauling she receives when he finally acquiesces to spar her.

It’s not that she doesn’t know he’s an assassin. Oblivious as she can be, she’s not stupid. Just the opposite, in fact. She recognizes that approaching him at any point is like sticking a hand in a tiger cage. And yet she still does it, even when they’re out in the field.

How she’s not dead yet, for pure annoyance alone, he’s not sure. But he figures that she’s spent so much time being an inconvenience to him specifically that he’s earned the right to put an end to her.

And then he’s not sure how she isn’t dead from natural selection.

“I thought you were military,” he hisses, brushing dirt off her shirt and pants. Why is he doing so? Because he’s annoyed that she slipped on pile of wet leaves.

“I am!”

“You have no discipline, no coordination, and no sense of self preservation.”

She beams. “I think that last thing is something they encourage, actually.”

He stuffs her into a good hideout and tells her to stay while he takes care of their his tail.

It’s not just the slipping, tripping, and falling. If anything would make him believe in luck, it’s Duke having the worst of it. Falling objects and loose floorboards, changes in a guard rotation or a light coming on at the worst moment. She’s smart and quick enough to watch out for herself, but only just.

Maybe he lets her live out of pure bafflement. Morbid fascination with someone so smart and yet so—

“Stupid,” he growls, dunking her head in the rain barrel.

She comes up sputtering, but giggling. “This isn’t how you’re supposed to treat acid exposure.”

He dunks her under again for good measure. She shakes off on him like a dog afterwards and he genuinely tries to strangle her. But then she gets her sharp little teeth in his arm and bites, proceeds to inform him that he’s going to need antibiotics with a bloody smile.

Is he going to personally bring about her violent, gory end? Yes.

Is she also his best friend? Somehow.

“Do you think cinnamon floss or mint floss is better for improvised stitches?”

“I think you should just bleed out.”

“It’s not for me, dummy…. Yet.”

He’s not relieved when she gets the position with the CIA, but something close to it.

They hire him for their dirty work often enough that he sees her regularly. Her ridiculous, cluttered desk and her grotesque stash of snacks and her constant rotation of injuries because they still let her near machinery.

“You stink,” he scoffs, lifting her right out of her chair as she squeals. “You are taking a shower.”

And because she has the attention span of a fly, he goes in with her. She fusses when he gets soap in her mouth or eyes, but he just tuts that it wouldn’t happen if she were capable of doing it herself. And dignity? Long forgotten as he scrubs her down from head to toe, pinching when she complains about being babied.

“Do not act like a child, then,” he gruffs, throwing a towel in her face.

Honestly, Laswell should be ashamed.

“When was the last time you ate?” He demands, squishing her cheeks with a little shake. “Eh? When was the last time you had something other than blue candy?”

“‘S raspberry.”

“Are raspberries blue? No. They teach this in school. All that sugar has rotted out your little brain.”

It turns out the answer to his food question was “too long.” He trades her potatoes for carrots, but only after holding her nose closed until he could force peas in her stubborn mouth.

Ridiculous, really.

#I don’t… know #I just needed to write something and post it to get out of this block I’ve been having #it’s not necessarily good but…#ta-da #velikan #cod Velikan #rook ‘Duke’ Alistair #cod oc #my oc #cod #thoughts™️#my writing #weird friends #dom friends

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maddipoof · 9 months

Text

yeah,,,, sad boy,,,,, anyway

I got this request in like february and then i lost it but it was on anon so i hope it finds whoever requested it even though i bet they don't remember, hey lovely! i LOVED your last post so i was wondering if i could submit a post? ive had this idea for awhile…. A JJ Maybank x kook!reader where JJ just keeps bringing up the fact that the reader and rafe used to have a fling and the reader just breaks down and asks JJ why he keeps bringing it up and JJ tells her its because he saw that Rafe still texts the reader and JJ like demands that the reader blocks Rafe. you can end it however you like! i just like a lot of angst lmao ❤️💋 It should be stated that i did get carried away and forgot a few things but I hope you enjoy <3 WC: 5k, not beta'd

“You’re staring.” You saw JJ looking at you from the other side of the small living room in the chateau. You’d been texting in your group chat with your friends from your old school, since some of them had switched to boarding schools and whatnot, but you caught him out of the corner of your eye.

“I’m not.”

“What are you doing then?”

“Admiring.”

You moved closer to the edge of the couch and made room for him. He jumped on next to you, nearly landing right on top of you. “You’re typing pretty fast. Who’re you talkin’ to?”

You learned in the last few months that you’d been together now that JJ was not the terribly jealous type in public. He was the first guy you’ve dated that understood that if you’re dating a hot girl, there’s no reason she should stop being a hot girl. If anything, he liked it more. He liked that everyone would look at you but you’d always be looking at him. The problem came whenever you took a second to look away. You both knew what it was like to feel insecure, like someone was leading you on for no reason, like there was no trust.

“Just my friends from school.”

“What about?”

“They’re trying to plan something next Saturday.”

He made a face you couldn’t see but you could feel it from his cheek moving on your shoulder. “What?”

When you looked at him he tried to take a neutral expression. “We’re going out Saturday.”

“I know.” Your voice didn’t match his. He sounded rough and salty, you were smooth and sweet. “That’s why I said ‘they’re’ trying to. My Saturdays are yours.”

“Good.” He pushed up to kiss you then went out to see what Pope and John B were doing outside.

Kiara had been watching from the kitchen with a curled lip and a raised brow, holding her cold bottle to her chest. She got you one before she came and sat where JJ had just been. “Possessive much?”

“It’s fine.” You dropped the sweetness and just sounded bored.

“You see him every Saturday?”

“I see him every day. And I guess that includes the days my friends I haven’t seen in 6 months are back in.” You shrugged and rolled your head to the back of the couch after taking a drink. “It’s fine.”

“Why don’t you tell him you want to see them?”

Another shrug, “He’ll ask why I want to go out with some Kooks when I can be with you guys.”

“That’s ridiculous.” She stood up like she was going to walk right out and tell him you’re going, but you pulled her back by the elbow. “What?”

“I’ll talk to him later.”

“Promise?”

You nodded and locked your pinky with hers before going outside.

***

As Saturday approached, your phone buzzed more and JJ got more…territorial. You put it back on do not disturb and set it down by your leg, the one he wasn’t next to, and went back to watching your feet dangle with the tide slowly rising and the wake of a boat every so often splashing your toes. Adding an occasional kick to watch the way it rippled. The sun was settling behind you like an over-ripe peach. Big and bleeding towards orange, it spilled into the water, sending little arcs of light swimming with every roll of water.

“Who’s going Saturday?”

“Hmm?”

“You’re friends are going out Saturday, which ones?”

“Oh, yeah. Um I don’t think you’d know most of them but like Sarah Cameron, maybe her brother, I don’t know though. Lizzie Callaghan, Riley, Jack. I forget who else.”

“You wanted to go out with Rafe Cameron?” It sounded ugly when he said it like that.

“I wanted to go out with my friends whether or not he was there. I told you I wasn’t going to go since we already made plans that day. It’s fine, we’re both happy with it, don’t worry about it.”

“You don’t seem very happy about it.” He pulled his legs up from the water and his heels left the almost grey old wood of the dock dark with salt water. He pulled his arms around his shins.You thought you’d get through without it being brought up, having spent another day together in the cut. He hated going to your house. Not that he hated your house, he hated how far it was from his, how it was further than distance, it was tax brackets away, worlds away.

“I haven’t seen them in a while, I’d like to see them soon. I have plans that day, they’ll be back. It’s fine.” Your posture went to shit after you grabbed your phone. Not that it was the best before, when you were looking at the water, but now your arms weren’t holding you up so your back was curled like a shell. Just to check the time and if Sarah or Kie texted you.

“Yeah, cus I’m sure you never get to see Rafe.”

“Jesus Christ, Jay. I told you that we went on 3 dates four years ago,” you slammed the face of your phone on the dock next to you, not the best idea. “He is in college in Massachusetts! So yes, we “dated” when I was 14, and we stayed friendly because his sister is one of my best friends.” You stood up and grabbed your bag on the way, he hardly even moved, just craned his neck and let his view of you be blurred by the sun behind you. “Yes, I would like to see him, but he, and all my other friends, will be here for the whole summer, there’s more than enough time for me to see them any other non-Saturday.”

“So you still talk?”

“Holy fuck.” You put a hand to your head and turned away for a second.

“I’m just saying like, you’re my girlfriend. It’s not impossible to think that maybe I don’t want you hanging around with that kind of asshole.”

“What is ‘that kind of asshole’?”

“You know what I mean.”

“I feel like I don’t.”

“I mean he was a classist prick to me and all my friends my whole life,” he finally stood up now, and moved so that he blocked the sun from your eyes.

“When he was fucking 12!”

“What about last year when he crashed me and John B’s party at the boneyard? You remember that right? You and him and all your little kooks came, flocking like fuckin– fucking vultures.”

“Fuck this,” you remembered that night, the two of them got into a fight over a keg, and yes Rafe did make some low blows about him being a pogue from the Cut, but that was a year ago, when he was still using and while he was drunk, he’s still accountable, but he’s not that person anymore.

You tried to get past him but he made a lame attempt at blocking your way. “I just want to go home, Jay. I don’t want to do this anymore.” You looked at him now and saw the way his face went from annoyed to apologetic.

“That’s ok, hey, that’s fine. We don’t have to talk about it anymore.” He tried smoothing your hair back and letting his hand coast down to your neck but you moved away. “Just let me drive you home.”

“I don’t want– I’m fine, I’ll call Sarah. Just– Please.”

“Please what? I don’t know what you want.”

“I want you to stop. I want this to stop.”

“I don– honey, what do you mean?”

“I mean I can’t even breathe around you like this. It’s– It’s suffocating, Jay. I love you, you know that. I don’t know why you can’t just believe it too.” He let you walk away after that. What more was there to say.

***Saturday***

Since you got together, the last 3 days have been the longest JJ’s gone without seeing you. He was laying on the pull out sofa backwards, his head dropped down over the foot of the bed, not caring that the mattress has sunk over the years and the black metal bar was digging into the back of his neck. He knew he shouldn’t let his pen go upside down, but he needed the distraction, he blew it down trying to fight the cloud from going up before it evaporated.

Kiara was cross legged on the other couch, tapping through her friends’ snap stories. She still had some of the people you went to school with added. “Hey J,” she said.

“Hmm?”

“Have you seen Sarah’s story?”

“Why would I see Sarah’s story?”

“I don’t know. You want to?”

“Not really.” He flipped over so the front of his throat was on the bar and he let out a long groan before he fixed his position.

“She’s lookin awfully comfy up with Sarah.” He knew who she ment by “she.”

“Lemme see.”

“I’m not moving, you come here.”

He groaned again when he flipped off over the couch, like an old man.

Kie swiped it back to the beginning and he saw the progression of you and some other girls in the back of one of their brand new broncos. The roof was off and the next one was a boomerang of your big smiles and hair blowing wild. Then another of you all at lunch, the waiter must have taken it of you. Some of your food, then the sky with your hand pointing to a cloud and your voice saying “That one looks like a chameleon. I’m telling you, look at it.” “What are you talking about?” It sounded like Rafe but Sarah kept it pointed at the sky. “You’re looking at it wrong.” It panned down to you standing behind Rafe, taking him by the shoulders and turning him in the right direction. “That looks like a dog.” It ended with you slapping him on the arm.

The next story was Riley’s, Sarah’s cousin, after the few Kiara skipped through of just the restaurant, there was one of you and Sarah dancing in the street. It looked like it you were still just outside the restaurant, one with an overt theme of a European café. There was a street performer with his open guitar case in front of his stool, his instagram handle on a piece of cardboard tapped to the back of it. In the background, behind you two spinning each other around, it looked like Rafe threw some money in there and then said something to the busker. The next video was of Rafe playing a song that had you all laughing and spinning together. He looked away when he saw you turn your head to look at him.

He looked different than the last time he saw him, healthier, he lost that faraway look he used to have in his eyes. He looked good, and you looked like you liked it.

Kiara turned off her phone and shifted to look at him better. “Doesn’t matter.” She put her hand over his, “She’s just happy he’s doing better, that has nothing to do with how she feels about you.”

“I know that, I know. I just– fuck, I ruined it.”

“You didn’t ruin anything, you fucked it up a little bit, but not ruined.”

“I don’t want her to hate me.”

“I don’t think she has it in her to hate anyone, especially you.”

***The Cameron House***

Your day ended with a backyard camp out just like you used to do as kids. After all the tents were set up and Riley and Sarah kicked the boys out, you made your 9 person tent into a 5 girl paradise. There was an honest fear in all of you that all your sunset lamps and starry night projectors would overwhelm even the industrial powerstrips, but Sarah assured you, as she plugged in the fourth fan, that it’d all be fine. It was like sitting in a sunset. Pinks and peaches and bubbly orange colors everywhere you looked. Fluffy duvets lined every inch of the floor and there was no escape from all the pillows. Memoryfoam, down, throw, body, king size, every kind of pillow you could imagine stolen from every room in the house. You were between Lizzie and Sarah with Riley and Wheezie across from you.

You always used to have a camp fire before you went back to your tents, and by the time you noticed that the sun was beginning to set from your captured sky in the tent, Rafe and the three other boys had gotten it started.

Lizzie was handing you everyother s’more she made, which really meant that she messed every other one up and gave it to you when she didn’t want it. You were on your second when Rafe noticed you looking cold and holding your hands in front of the fire and elbowed Sarah to go get you a sweater or something. She came back and apologized if it was the wrong size, it was Rafe’s that he grew out of 4 years ago and she never grew into length-wise. “Have another, have another.” Lizzie was trying to bring another s’more to your lips.

“I can’t, I’ll be sick if I have any more.”

“Ugh, you’re no fun.” You knew she was joking when she knocked her shoulder into yours.

“No, you’re the one trying to kill me.”

“Death by s’mores?”

“It’s an epidemic.” Wheezie said as she popped another perfectly goldened marshmallow into her mouth.

You gave Lizzie a look then moved to the bench at the side of the fire where the smoke wasn’t blowing. The only open seat was between Rafe and Jack. Let’s just hope that no one posts anything else tonight.

“Sick of the s’mores?” Jack asked you.

“Yeah, the perfect goop in the middle can only make the charred black shell on the outside worth it so many times before it’s just not.”

“Pull it off then,” Rafe suggested.

“And lose the exhilarating crunch? Never.”

Rafe shrugged, knowing you were just going to keep going in circles, just for fun, and reached over the arm of the bench to offer you something from the cooler. “Surprise me.”

“Close your eyes then.”

“Why?”

“It needs to be a real surprise. If I got something you don’t like you’d just have me put it away and get you something else. Where’s the surprise in that?”

“Hmph.” You closed your eyes and opened your hand to accept the can, the condensation was dripping into the place where your thumb meets your hand and whatever he gave you tasted like fizzy lemon and basil. You hummed trying to figure it out without opening your eyes, in the end you gave up and read the label anyway. “I’m not gonna get high off of this, right?”

“It’s CBD.”

“I don’t know what you’re giving me.”

“I gave you a seltzer.”

“With CBD.”

“Would you be making as big a deal as this if I gave you a beer or something?”

You shrugged and he went to take your can away and replace it with a corona. “Wooah, woah, woah, who said I was done with that?”

“You.”

“No. It was good.”

“Good.” He let go and you took another sip. You took another look around at the fire and everyone around it then brought one leg up to hug against yourself. “So how’ve you been?”

“I’m alright. You?”

“Better than I’ve been in a while.”

“That’s good, I’m really happy for you.”

“Thanks…yeah.” He cracked open another can of seltzer, just a regular one. “So I hear you’re going out with that Maybank kid.”

“Don’t call him that, you know his name.”

“Sorry, JJ. How long?”

“A few months. 6 actually.”

“And he let you come out with me?”

“He didn’t let me. I dom’t need anyone to let me do anything.”

“I’m sorry, I just meant–”

“It’s fine, sorry. It’s fine.”

“Should I apologize to him?” He was looking at you but you were just looking at the fire, Jack had left you by then to put out a flaming marshmallow.

“For what?”

“I don’t know, being a dick to him for however long.”

“Probably.” You looked at him now and he looked sincere enough for you to want to continue the conversation.

“You know that I was really in a bad place then, right? Like using every chance I got, just being a dick and having no idea what I was doing?”

“I know. Doesn’t excuse it though.”

“I know that, I do. Which is why I want to apologize. And I’m not just gonna blame my dad either though, like I should have known better than to just regurgitate all the shit he was telling be about the Cut and pogues and whatever, all that shit that doesn’t matter.”

“Yeah, I get that.” You turned so you could face him too, your leg was still up on the bench between you two.

“And I wanted to apologize to you too. I was a complete asshole to you that whole time too. I was so stupid and I shouldn’t have been messing with you when you were like 14.”

You took a deep breath before you said anything. You never really had any strong feelings about when you “dated” before, whenever you thought back to it you thought it was all just because you were young and didn’t know any better. Now that he’s saying this though, it just floods your memory of all the times he tried manipulating you into things you weren’t ready for. You never gave in and eventually he gave up and found some other girl that’d fall for the flash of an amex faster than a smile, but you never actually fell that hard to feel any overwhelming feelings about it. “Can I hug you?”

“Really?” Obviously not the reaction he was expecting.

“Mhm.” He leaned in and you rubbed one hand up and down his back a few times. “I forgive you.”

“For real?”

“You’re trying to be better, I believe it.”

***The Chateau***

“JJ, no!” Kiara tried to go after him before John B blocked his way out the front door.

Clearly, someone was posting more videos than you knew about. Kie and JJ were just watching baby sensory videos, the ones with the bouncing vegetables, when she got a post notification. “You wanna look at it?”

He shrugged for the thousandth time that night. “Sure.”

And there was the flaming marshmallow melting on the stone and one of them trying to stomp it out with their $50 flip flop… and you in the background, first with you looking into Rafe’s eyes. Next with your arms around him and his face turned into your neck. Whether he was talking or anything else meant nothing to JJ.

John B was enough to stop him even if he kept trying to push him out of the way. “The fuck is wrong with you, man?”

“She’s supposed to be with me, ok?” He was angry but they heard the hurt underneath. “She’s supposed to be with me and I keep– I keep fucking it up.” He beat a weak fist on John B’s chest before he took him into his arms.

“You didn’t. You didn’t. Listen, listen, hey,” JJ finally pulled back to let John B look at him. “We’ll have her over tomorrow, yeah? Have her over, you guys can talk and figure it out?” JJ was shaking his head. “What? What is it?”

“She doesn’t want me. I fucked it all up and she doesn’t want me anymore.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Kie, show him the thing.”

“What thing?”

“Jay, I don’t think–”

“Just show him the video.”

She went through it and showed John B, she pointed out you and Rafe. “See?” JJ was about to cry again, so John B pulled him back in like a little kid.

“We’ll have her over tomorrow.”

***The Cameron House***

The fire was dying out and you and Sarah were the last ones out. Everyone else was sleeping, or at least laying down in their tents.

“You’re still with JJ?”

“Mhm,” You nodded and took another sip from your sprite. “Actually, I don’t know. It’s been weird.”

“What do you mean?” She moved closer to your side.

“He didn’t want me coming, first because we had a date set, then because he’s still banged up about Rafe and the stuff he used to do. Also because of the 4 dates we went on when I was like 12.” She knew you meant 14, semantics. She hated those 4 weeks, they were miserable.

“But you still came?”

“Mhm, I haven’t seen him since Tuesday.”

“But–”

“He hates your brother.”

“He’s not the only one. But he’s gotten better.”

“I know he has, he apologized to me earlier tonight.”

“So he–”

“He want’s to apologize to JJ too. Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt you, I just…”

“It’s ok, I get it.”

“Thank you. I don’t want to mess it up with him. It’s been going so well, and he’s so wonderful when he wants to be. He’s just…he’s everything and I love it but I just can’t stand it when he gets all weird about coming to my house, he never wants to meet any of you guys or come anywhere near figure 8. I don’t feel bad about what I have, and I don’t pity him for what he has, but I just wish it didn’t matter. Like I wish no one ever told him that he’s just a ‘dirt broke pogue’ or that he’s gonna end up like his dad. He could do so so much if he wanted and I just want him to know that. I don’t want anything to hold him back and I just want to give him the whole world and make him happy but I know he won’t take it,” She put an arm around you and rubbed your shoulder that was against her chest with her other hand. You hiccuped a sob before you realized it and took a breath to collect yourself. “I don’t know if he thinks he isn’t worth it, or he doesn’t deserve it because he isn’t worth it, but I– Fuckin christ, I just want him to be ok.” Your cry became a whine like a little kid’s that doesn’t know how to get their feelings out any other way. Sarah was holding you as close as she could and rocking you side to side as you tried to decide if it would be better to just let it all out now, or try to breathe again.

“You wanna go see him?”

“What?” You pulled back and wiped the few streaks of tears from her cheeks, you didn’t feel like you were worth crying for at the moment.

“Do you want to go see him?” She pulled the cuff of her sweater up to wipe over your cheeks then under your nose.

“What do you–Like right now?”

“Yes, come on,” she shook your shoulder just a bit. “We’ll take the car, go to his house.”

“Not his house. John B’s.”

“John B’s then. You want to?”

You let her pull you up from the bench and towards your shoes before you gave yourself a second to think about it.

***

The streets were nearly dead besides the few college kids speeding by you or a few pick up trucks on their way to work in the other direction.

You caught your face in the sideview mirror, tear stained and puffy but weirdly ethereal with the way the watery tracks sparkled in the street lights you were passing at lightning speed. You looked at yourself a little too hard before you realized how ridiculous this whole thing was.

“What the fuck are we doing?”

“What? No, no, hey, come on, don’t back out now!”

“Sarah, it’s past 2 am, this is just, god it’s so desperate.”

“I am not turning this car around.”

“I’ll jump out the window.”

“You will not!”

You looked back at where you came from, woods, long, straight, not worth the walk in any direction. “Fine.”

“Prepare yourself, we’ll be there in like 5 minutes.” With her driving, 5 became 2 and you were barely halfway though your imagined version of how this would go.

She parked but didn’t turn the car off yet. “The lights,” you hissed at her. “You’ll wake them up.”

“And who do you want to answer the door then?” She pulled the key out and went to the front door before you could get out of your seatbelt.

Knock Knock Knock Knock Knock

“Jesus christ, Sarah,” You pulled her arm down. “You want them to think we’re a SWAT team?”

****

They ran out of drinks 4 hours ago so Kie and John B were playing an embarrassing game of cup pong with some probably a little bit expired sprite they found at the back of the fridge. Pope was showing JJ a nature he hoped would be a good enough distraction, he was getting very invested in the baby elephant’s journey, which they thought was a good sign.

Knock Knock Knock Knock Knock

All their heads shot up from whatever they were doing, it could really be anyone. Too many people trying to find them, not enough with any boundaries or respect for their circadian rhythms.

John B took a step to the door, “Wait,” JJ said, “It could be Luke.” John B nodded and JJ went into the bathroom and locked the door.

Pope walked behind John B and nearly jumped out of his skin when another round of loud knocks came, followed by a harsh “Sarah!”

They looked at each other in confusion then opened the door.

You were there holding Sarah by the wrist, she had her fist raised to knock again, “Hi,” she said before she remembered to put his arm down. He stood to his full height and she was nothing short of stunned. I thought this was about me?! You rolled your still teary eyes and stepped forward just a little. “Can I see him?” you asked gently, knowing you were in no position to be making any demands.

“Do you really think–” –that’s a good idea, is what he was going to say in that careful tone, not wanting to hurt you or JJ, or over step on your relationship but still trying to protect his friend, doing too much at once.

“Yes.”

There was really no room for any more arguments, he stood back to the side to let you past and you went to the bathroom door. Two gentle knocks, “JJ, I– Can we– I–” you were half a second from turning back to Sarah, crying again saying ‘I can’t do it’ but he opened the door and pulled you inside; and maybe you shouldn’t have, but you grabbed both his hands, holding them in a way that his forearms were close against your chest, maybe the weight would calm your heart down.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” He moved his hands to the sides of your neck, his thumbs in the space under your ear, just under your jaw. Your hands held his wrists instead. “I don’t want to fight, I saw you and Rafe and I fucking– I saw my whole life without you and I didn’t want it.”

��No, no, don’t be sorry. I don’t want you sorry, don’t be sorry.” You brushed his hair away from his sticky forehead, “I should have listened better, I should thought about what you wanted. I just want to give you everything and the feeling that I couldn’t even give you a Saturday, I–”

“It’s not your fault, I shouldn’t have asked you to chose, I don’t want you to chose between my life or yours, ok? Pick yours everytime, don’t drag yourself down for me.”

“No, no. There’s no my life or your life. Not to me, right? There’s just ours.”

‘Our life.’

“I love you,” he had to say.

“I love you too, and I never want to do that again.”

“Do what?”

“I don’t want to not see you or hear from you for 3 days, and I don’t want to have to decipher your feelings, I want you to tell me the truth. Even if you think I won’t like it.”

“I can do that, I can do all of that.” He was trying to talk fast, the faster he talked the faster he could kiss you, kiss all the feelings he didn’t know how to tell you into you.

He moved in but you moved your head back before his lips reached yours, “Wait.”

“What? What is it?”

“I need to know that you’re not gonna do that again, I need to really know.”

“I promise, I promise you, babe, anything you want.”

“But how do I know you’ll keep it?”

“I mean it.” He took your hands again.

“But can you–”

“Every day, I’ll prove it every day.”

“You swear?”

“On my honor as a Pogue.”

“Hmm,” you leaned into his humor now that you knew he meant it.

“What? You doubt my honor?”

“Only a little.”

“Then I swear on John B’s life. If I ever ever make you feel like I don’t care about you or like you’re doing something wrong, I will personally deliver you his heart in my hand.”

“Ugh, so graphic!”

“How else will you know I mean it?”

You moved your hand up his arm and wrapped your arms around his neck, “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

#jj maybank #jj mayback x reader #obx #jj maybank x kook!reader #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank x you #jj maybank x y/n #jj x reader #obx fic #obx x reader #obx fanfiction #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank angst #angst #x reader angst #mara's fics

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novasintheroom · 8 months

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Vash’s kisses come slow, at the beginning. Pecks to the cheek, the forehead, the lips if he was feeling daring. He didn’t feel daring often.

He’d need an excuse to do it. A reason to brush by you, to lean in and barely press his lips to the apple of your cheek before dashing away, off to hunt for a job in town or bring back food. A way to escape. He always had an escape plan in mind.

He doesn’t know what to do with his hands. Does he put them on your hips? Your shoulders? He copies you when you gently pull him in by the back of his neck. His hands travel to your jaw, your throat, and the pleased sounds pulled out of your lips tells him he’s doing something right.

The need to escape ebbs away the longer you’re together. He lingers longer at the doorway before stepping out to town. Waits for you to get on your tippy-toes so he can bend down and let your lips press his. Links your arms together when you walk through a crowd – or if you’re alone. He opens to the idea that, maybe, he’s okay with a relationship. Maybe he does want this.

Chaos always follows him, and you’re hurt. Badly. In the hospital wing of a decrepit town, Vash is shouted outside while the overwhelmed young doctor tries her best to keep the bleeding stemmed with her nurse. And he thinks this, this is why. He wants to escape again. He wants to run. Keep you away from him and his mess of a life. Keep you safe. He’ll tell you when (if) you wake up, he promises himself.

But then you wake up.

And he can’t stop holding your hand, pressing his forehead to your stomach, watching and waiting for the wounds to heal and your voice to not be so shot with fatigue. You crack jokes to get him to smile. You reassure him that ‘the other guy looks worse.’ And you’re right. So right. No one could look more beautiful than you.

There’s a moment when you’re using him as a walking stick on the way out of the ward, that Vash considers it again. Should he run? Leave you behind? You smile up at him and go to your tiptoes, lips pursed and waiting. He gives in, hands rising and pulling you in by the neck, and you laugh when your teeth bump from his eagerness. He’s never letting you go. He’s too far gone.

Now, his kisses come easy. They press to your lips, nose, ears. He loves kissing your hands. He holds yours with his own when you walk into town. Pulls you in by the waist and dances with you in the saloon, or the inn, or wherever. He’s always wanted a dancing partner. He finally has one.

#idk i just need to write right now man #its rusty but its MY rusty drabble #trigun #trigun stampede #vash the stampede #tristamp #writing #nova writes #drabble #vash x reader #vash the stampede x reader #tristamp vash x reader #could be any vash actually but tristamp is what i had in mind lol

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rachey899 · 7 months

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Why Can't I Be Normal?

Size shifter short story featuring my beloved OC Luke. Poor Luke has a bad dream followed by an emotional outburst; lucky he has his family there to support him. Approx 2.8k words.

The world was so small around him, he looked around at the destruction he had caused, buildings had crumpled under his destructive hands, flattened houses that used to belong to his neighbors, gone. He could hear screams, but they were distant, he didn’t know what happened, only that everything around him was broken and it was his fault. There were tiny people littered like ants for as far as he could see and they scattered around him, all crying and running away from him.

“Luke!”

The frightened ten-year-old boy scanned the chaos around his feet and his eyes landed on his mother, tiny, broken, bleeding and stuck under a large piece of debris, he reached down to help free her, but he paused when she screamed in fear.

“D-Don’t hurt me!” She sobbed, Luke’s heart was racing, she looked at him like he was a monster.

“Luke!” She called for him again with urgency, but he didn’t know how to help her without scaring her or hurting her further, his heart ached.

“M-mum, I-I can’t-.”

“Luke!

“Luke! Baby, wake up!”

Luke’s eyes snapped open, he was covered in a cold sweat and shaking like a leaf, he had been so scared, but it had only been a dream, just a nightmare. He stared at the ceiling that looked much closer than it should have been, his eyes only a foot or two away from the tiny light globe, his heart began to race again but he dared not move.

“Mum?” He called out carefully, he must have grown in his sleep, but how?

“Luke, try to stay calm for me, okay?” He could hear her small voice, but he couldn’t pinpoint where it was coming from, he felt his body tighten again and he groaned in pain.

“Mum what’s happening to me!” He had never shifted in his sleep before and he was scared, his voice shook the foundations around him, and the ceiling got closer, his eyes widened, he was still growing, and he was still in the house, this was not good.

“Luke turn your head this way, I’m right here.” Her voice was closer now, coming from his right side and he turned his head carefully in that direction. His mother stood beside his face, brown hair in a frazzled mess from sleep swept her shoulders and she wore mickey mouse flannelette pajamas, they were her favorite, she looked worried but not scared like she had been in his dream.

“There baby, see, I’m right here, your okay, take some deep breathes for me.” Her voice was calm like water, and he instantly felt better, she had a way about her that kept him calm, and she was usually the one who helped him to shrink back to normal when he had bursts like this.

Still seeing her there beside him, so small in such a cramped space that was only getting smaller, frightened him, even her voice couldn’t stop the tight aches coursing through him.

“Mum I’m scared.” He whispered, letting the tears leak out of his large blue eyes, his fingers felt the floor beneath him, his bed utterly destroyed, and his toes wriggled in the broken plaster that had been the wall on the opposite side of his bed. He hadn’t outgrown the house…yet.

“I know honey, remember what we practiced, just focus and breathe.”

“Where’s Dad and Ivy? Are they okay? I-I didn’t hurt them?” His mind raced and his face paled at the thought of what he might have done, his little sister Ivy’s room was beside his, exactly where his feet were right now.

“They are both safe, they are outside. Luke, you need to concentrate.” She said this a little more sternly this time, her eyes the very same as his own focusing intently on him.

He nodded carefully and closed his eyes, he counted his breaths, in and out slowly. He winced as he felt another sharp tightening of his body and he opened his eyes again looking at his mother with fear dripping from him as he watched her shrink, becoming smaller and smaller before his eyes.

He felt his feet hit another wall and drew them up slightly, so his knees were touching the ceiling, not wanting to break through another wall and potentially completely destroy the house.

“I can’t. I c-can’t stop it.” He said urgently.

“Okay, listen to me very carefully, we’re going to get you out of here.” She took a step closer to him and he almost flinched back in fear, not out of fear of her but out of fear of hurting her if she got much closer.

“Luke, I want you to hold me in your hand-.” He was shaking his head before she’d even finished explaining.

“N-no, I can’t, I’ll h-hurt you.”

“You won’t, because you are gentle, I know you. Hold me in your hand and then with your other hand I want you to push through this wall here.” She gestured to the wall behind his head, there was a window there but much too small for him to fit through now.

“Can you do that?” She asked gently, he gulped unsure of himself but nodded anyway.

Carefully he moved his arm closest to his mother until he was in a position where he could touch her with his fingers. Then slowly he wrapped his hand around his mother as though she were one of his action figures before raising her up slightly and holding her securing to his chest.

He glanced down to make sure that she was unhurt, but she waved him on, urging him to keep going.

With his left hand he slowly reached up behind his head, careful not to bump the walls that were slowly closing in around him and gently pushed into the wall. His eyes widened at the small amount of pressure he had applied, and he’d created a hole already, so easily, his mother called for him to keep going.

Once he’d knocked down the wall completely, he was free to fit his shoulders through, and with great care using his feet and free hand, he wriggled himself along the ground through the hole and outside. Only when his feet had cleared the house by a few feet did he stop and sigh staring up at the starry sky.

He carefully lifted his hand from his mother, allowing her to climb off of him on her own, once she was safely on the ground and a good distance away, he sat up crossing his legs and surveying the damage. The house was still standing, for that he was grateful but the wall he had smashed through looked horrible, and he could see through the wall his feet had crashed through into Ivy’s room, everything was a mess.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered shakily, his hands lay limp in his lap and he wondered if it wasn’t a dream at all, maybe it was a reality, maybe he was a monster incapable of anything but destruction, he clenched his fists suddenly angry.

“Luke? How are you doing bud?” His father had come over to check on his wife and unique son, clutching a small six-year-old girl on his hip.

“I hate this.” He stood then without warning, shaking the ground beneath his parents and causing the horses over the boundary fence to whinny and flee from him.

“Why do I have to be this giant freak!?” He stamped his foot causing a small crater, his parents stepped back, giving the young boy room.

“And if I’m not a giant I’m tiny and useless!” He kicked at one of the oak trees sending it flying through the air and landing in a field off their property, he glanced at his parents, so far away and so small, he hated seeing them like this, it made him feel like a monster.

“Why can’t I be normal!” He was just about to kick at another tree, having felt better releasing his anger that way when he heard a small cry. It hadn’t come from either of his parents, they only looked on with wide eyes, his mother with her hand over her mouth and his father holding on tightly to a writhing child.

Ivy screamed again, thrashing against her father, tears streaming down her face, she was scared, her big brother had never scared her like this before, she’d seen him big, but he had always been so gentle with her. Why was he being so scary now? She wanted to run away.

She managed to loosen her father’s grip on her and land on the ground and then she ran away, in the opposite direction of the scary giant who was not her brother.

Luke planted his foot down carefully on the ground, sparing the tree as tears stung his eyes, he had scared her. Ivy, his sweet little sister that loved him no matter what size he was. She’d use him as a playground to climb all over when he was big, and carried him protectively when he was small, not letting anyone else touch him.

Seeing her so fearful of him broke his heart and he immediately stepped towards her, to follow her and explain that he would never hurt her.

“Luke don’t!” His father yelled below him, ignoring his father’s words, he stepped over both his parents and followed his sister to her favorite hiding spot, the tree house.

Ivy scurried up the ladder on shaky legs until she’d reached the safety of their tree house, this place was strictly off limits to grown ups and she knew the giant couldn’t reach her there, he simply wouldn’t fit.

Luke approached the tree house and knelt down in front of it, trying to peer through the small window to glimpse his sister. Ivy shrieked when a large blue eyed filled the window and she ducked down below the windowpane to avoid being seen.

“Get away!” She screeched as loudly as she could manage, she was tired and scared and alone, she wanted nothing more than for her brother to hug her and tell her she was okay, and brave. She didn’t feel brave right now.

Luke flinched at her words, they hurt his heart, his lips quivered, and he cried anew.

“Ivy I’m sorry I s-scared you, I didn’t mean to.” There was silence from within the treehouse, but Ivy opened her sweet brown eyes and listened to the sobbing giant right outside, sniffling herself.

“I was angry, I’m still angry but not at you, never at you. I’m mad at myself, I should be able to control this stupid thing, but I can’t, and I was so mad that I could have hurt you without meaning to. I don’t know what to do Ivy.”

Luke rested his head on the side of the treehouse, shaking the branches only slightly and being careful not to apply too much pressure afraid he might knock the tree down, he only wanted to be nearer to her.

“I need you.” He whispered through his tears.

Ivy listened as the giant began to sound more and more like her brother, and he was hurting, he was saying mean things about himself, and she couldn’t let that happen. It was her job after all to be brave for him and look after him, no matter what size he was.

She carefully stood back up again, her chubby fingers gripping the window frame, she peered back out of the window and was confronted with a freckle covered wet cheek. Carefully she reached out a hand to touch the warm slick surface before her, his tears smelled of salt and she felt him stiffen beneath her touch.

Carefully Luke moved back to look at his sister, her brown hair hanging in bouncy spiraled curls about her face, just like his own if he allowed his to grow longer. He could see the tear stains on her own freckled cheeks, and he allowed more of his own to fall free, he hated seeing her hurt so much, and even more knowing it was he who had hurt her.

“I’m sorry I ran away.” Ivy’s small voice reached his ears, she was twisting her feet where she stood and looking at him bashfully like she was admitting to doing the wrong thing.

He shook his head. “No Ivy, you were right to run away, I was being dangerous and I’m so sorry, I won’t ever do something like that again, I promise.” He raised a large pinky finger towards the window, close enough for her to reach.

She eyed the large digit and quirked a small smile, accepting the pinky promise by tapping it with her own impossibly small pinky against his. He smiled in return and sniffled softly letting his hands drop back down to his lap.

“You’re not normal.” Ivy said quietly, she had been thinking about what Luke had said when he was kicking the trees away and wondering what words she could use to make him feel better, and she thought of just the right ones.

“Your special.”

Luke smiled a little brighter upon hearing his sister’s words, she had been faced with a dangerous giant for a brother who had scared her into hiding but just as quickly had forgiven him and was doing her best to make him feel better. It was working.

“C-can I have a hug?” He reached out a hand, holding his palm level with the door of the tree house, asking for permission to hold her.

She nodded her head quickly with a grin and skipped over to the door where her brother’s large hand was waiting patiently, she stepped on board, her bare feet tickling his palm causing it to twitch a little under her.

Ivy stretched her arms out wide as Luke raised her up to his cheek, she clutched his skin like it was her lifeline and he brought his other hand up to press her gently there, reciprocating the hug in their own special way.

Luke felt a wave of calm come over him and his skin began to itch, Ivy’s hands on his face started to grow as he began to shrink back down again. Not wanting to let her go while he shrank, he held her with both hands circling her waist until she was the right size in his arms again and with renewed vigor, he clutched her to his chest tightly.

“You’re the special one.” He said to her as he placed her back on the ground, relieved to be back to normal, well as normal as he could get.

“Luke are you okay?” His father’s voice tore him back to reality and he turned to see his mum and dad walking towards them.

His parents had caught up to them and had been watching from a distance, letting the two have their moment. Karly had assured her husband that Ivy was the right person this time to help their son and she had been right.

“Yeah Dad, I’m really sorry about-.” Luke had started to say before David cut them off, waving away the apology like it had already been forgiven, all he wanted now was to hold both his children safely and he did just that, pulling them both into a hug.

“Thank you.” Luke whispered, tears spilling anew, he should be in huge trouble right now, not only did he destroy their house, but he’d kicked the trees down and scared the horses away as well as ignoring his parents when they tried to stop him from following Ivy. His father should have been furious with him, but he was so grateful that he wasn’t.

“Let’s get you both back to bed and worry about all this tomorrow, yeah?” Karly had joined her family in the hug at some point and embraced them tightly before releasing them and ushering them back to the house.

Looking at both the hole in his own bedroom and his sister’s, Luke glanced at his parents, unsure where exactly they would sleep that night, what was left of the night anyway.

“Can we sleep with you!?” Ivy was bouncing with excitement, their parents had been working hard at getting Ivy to sleep in her own room as of late, the two adults exchanged a look before coming to the agreement.

“Yes, you can both sleep with us, but just for tonight.” Their father relented.

Ivy bounced ahead of them straight through the hole in the wall like it was nothing and made her way skipping all the way to their parents’ room.

Luke wrapped an arm around his mother’s waist, snuggling his head into her chest as they walked, he was exhausted and wanted nothing more than to roll into bed with his family and sleep for a week.

Karly leant down and kissed the top of his head, holding her son close to her.

He was special, and she would make sure no matter how others treated him and no matter what things could possibly go wrong or were out of their control, that he would remain loved.

I’m not crying your crying! Poor Lukey baby, no more nightmares okay!

#gt #giant #gianttiny #tiny #g/t #giant/tiny #gtfluff #size shifter #Luke #angst with a happy ending #angst

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