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kquil · 10 months

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POLY MARAUDERS | HEROES IN TATTOOS ⏤FIRST PIERCING

REQUEST. : Can I request a chapter where the boys convince the reader to get her ears pierced and she cries bc she's anxious when it happens and one of the boys has her sit on their lap when it's happening and help her calm down. You don't have to but i think it would be super cute —@samanddeansannoyingsis

G. : fluff ; modern au ; muggle au ; tattoo artist james ; tattoo artist sirius ; piercer remus ; comfort ; sitting in sirius's lap ; slight panic attack - not explicit

LENGTH : 1.9k

“Did you mean it?” You ask in a soft voice as Remus swivels in his tech chair to pay you his full attention, one brow raising up at the sight of your fingers gently pinching your ear lobes.

“Did I mean what, dove?” He asks in his usual warm tone, tilting his head back to stare up at you from his seat.

“That I would look cute with ear piercings…”

Remus laughs because how cute can you get? Especially with that curious look in your doe eyes. Reaching out his big hands, he pulls you onto his thigh and holds you close, staring down with his loving brown eyes to reassure you of any insecurities he suspects might arise.

Somehow, Remus always knew what path your thoughts could potentially take. You felt like an open book to him, cradled in his large hands, stable and loving; ready to explore your pages with the simple intent to understand you further, as he’s already done with the few pages you’ve allowed him to read in your past. To you, Remus is safety, comfort and boundless warmth, not from the sun but from a thick blanket, reassuring and all encompassing, devoted to only keeping you warm — safe, happy and secure.

“Yes, I meant it,” Remus whispers as he fixes the collar of your shirt, ever the habitual perfectionist, “why?” His gaze lifts and you’re lost in his honey-chocolate pools once more, “are you thinking of getting your ears pierced?” you don’t know if the lilt in his tone is to tease or a growing excitement for your potential inclination — he may have the honour of giving you your first piercing.

“Maybe…” he can tell from the slight hesitancy in your diction that you weren’t 100% sold on the idea, which brings about his own worries.

“You don’t need a piercing to be cute you know,” Remus mutters the sentiment into your temple before pressing a kiss into your skin, “you’re plenty cute as is…”

“It’s not that,” the shaky breath you exhale is all too familiar to the brunette and he instantly knows your exact reasoning, he still lets you speak the words yourself, however, somewhat enjoying the show you unintentionally play out before him. It’s another cute display, one that rivals whenever he sees you eating something delicious, and can’t control your expression or when you get excited over something and hop in place while doing tiny claps, “I’m still kinda scared of needles…”

The shame that crosses your face tugs at Remus’s heart and he puts a stop to it immediately. Holding your chin between his pointer finger and thumb he directs your stare to meet his own, “don’t feel ashamed of that, sweetheart. Being afraid is normal and, in some instances, keeps people alive and safe. It’s unfortunate but fear led you to the boys and me,” he hates to remind you of that fateful night but— “and now I don’t think we can live without you,” the two of you share a laugh at that.

The boys were truly grateful to you for many things. You may not know it but whenever angry, sad or stressed all they had to do was look at you, see your smiling face, hear your twinkling laugh and bask in the brightness you exude just to feel right again. You bring about an equilibrium that they are so often tipped off of, never totally right or sane when you are gone too long.

“I—…I still don’t know,”

“Try this,” Remus leans back to pose his hypothetical, “forget the needle and the pain, would you still like to wear earrings?” your enthusiastic nod is answer enough, “then…—“ from the corner of his eye, Sirius walks past the doorway and Remus calls for him.

“How may I help you and our princess, Moony?” Sirius asks with a practised smiling voice as he shoots you a wink.

“Do you mind fetching the earring jewellery samples?” Sirius raises a brow but asks no questions and nods before disappearing again. While he’s gone, you stare up at Remus, who doesn’t say a word but smiles and lovingly tucks a stray hair behind your ear. Not long after, Sirius returns with a small set of samples in a rectangular wooden box, lined with red velvet and showcasing a small but beautiful variety of jewellery.

“Aren’t they beautiful?”

“They’re very beautiful, Rem,” you reply, awing at their delicate designs and sparkling appearance.

“Pick a favourite pair,” he prompts and without hesitation, you pick the two that immediately caught your eye.

“Great choice, doll,” Sirius praises as Remus hands back the sample set and gives him a look, communicating his next steps. There was no debate and Sirius accepted everything without any questions, “we’ll reserve them for you,” Sirius smiles softly and quickly leaves to do just that before you can utter any word of protest.

“Tell us when you’re ready, and we’ll make it happen so that you’re as comfortable as can be throughout,”

Every time you visit the boys at their tattoo studio, they let you have the reserved piercings to look over and contemplate your decision with. They were perfectly happy to wait however long you needed and never pushed you towards a decision, they even expressed that it was perfectly okay for you to change your mind and withdraw from the idea altogether.

“You know,” James pipes up with a mouthful of food that Remus quickly reprimands him for, “you don’t need to get a piercing to wear earrings,”

“That’s right, there are other alternatives out there, dollface,” Sirius adds, licking his lips with a content smile, always a lover for your cooking, “you can wear clip on earrings instead,”

You appreciate their concern and thoughtfulness but you still want to get a piercing. It felt like a right of passage for all girls and you wanted to be a part of it, clip-ons didn't feel the same and you wanted to be able to pair your earrings with an outfit like some of your friends do. Shaking your head with a polite smile, you turn to Remus, “You’ll be doing my piercing, right, Rem?”

“That’s right, dove,”

Timidly, you meet his kind eyes, “will you be able to hold me when you do it?” Your shy statement was all they needed to realise what was holding you back. They felt so stupid for not realising it sooner but, thankfully, they knew how to help you now.

“I’m afraid not, sweetheart,” Remus coos softly at your disappointed expression but James and Sirius don’t let you wear it for long.

“But Prongs and I can hold you for as long as you need, doll!” Sirius smiles as James grins toothily beside him.

“Just take your pick on whose lap you think will be more comfortable!” James laughs with Sirius as he throws his arm over his friend’s shoulders.

“In that case,” you turn towards Remus with a smile once more, “when is the next available time I can set up an appointment?”

It was in the afternoon when you found yourself seated on Sirius’s lap as Remus prepared to pierce your ears. James, to his dismay, had an appointment for a tattoo so Sirius won lap rights by default, which he was all too proud to have won.

In preparation for the piercings, Sirius helped tie your hair up so that your ears were free of their awning, he did this while Remus prepared his tools, put on his gloves and got started on a small aftercare kit for you to take home — as was customary of their studio to provide for all their customers. With Sirius’s arms comfortingly wrapped around your waist, he pressed you close so that you could feel the heat from his chest against your back and allowed him access to your neck, where he placed a soft kiss.

After a while, Remus walks over with a soft look on his face and a sanitising wipe in a gloved hand, “you two look cosy,” he comments while gently cleansing your lobes with the wipe and throwing it away in a nearby bin.

“Our princess deserves it,” Sirius comments, his hot breath tickling your neck and making you giggle as Remus agrees.

“That she does,” leaning back, the tall brunette sits in his tech chair and pulls up a small handheld mirror and pen, “now, dove, I need you to tell me where you want your piercing. Do you want it a little higher? Right in the middle or a little lower, here?” In the mirror he holds in front of you, you see him point out where the potential piercing can go with the tip of his pen, “I want to do it perfectly for you,” he smiles warmly behind the mirror, which carries in his voice — soft and sweet.

“And if you want more piercings in the future, you can make room for them now,” Sirius adds from behind you.

“I want it right in the middle please, Rem,”

“Of course,” he nods and places the markings softly onto your lobe before holding up the mirror again for your final approval.

“W-won’t the pen make the sanitising pointless,” you comment, shy of your scrutiny; Remus was the expert, afterall.

“Don’t worry, dove,” he kisses your forehead before holding up the capped pen, “this is a surgical skin marker and it’s used in surgeries to mark out incision lines,” your apprehended by his gentle tone and warm voice, calming your heart that had slowly begun to race with anticipation, “the ink is made of gentian violet, which has antifungal properties so it won’t affect the sterility of the marked area,”

When you nod in understanding, Remus kisses your forehead once more and goes to store away the pen before finally getting started on your piercing.

“It’ll be okay, sweetheart,” Sirius whispers into your hair when he hears the unsteady shake in your breaths — Remus had just sat down across from you in his tech chair with a needle in hand and a small stopper in the other.

“Look away, darling… close your eyes,” Remus prompts when he sees your breathing pick up at the sight of the needle in his hand. He is completely ignored and nods at the tattooist behind you, “Sirius, can you help our angel?”

You feel Sirius kiss your temple as his arms give you a small squeeze. His weight, warmth and smell surrounds your senses and the boys helpfully guide your breathing until you are finally able to relax. The tension leaves your body and you finally close your eyes, apologising for your small episode.

“You have nothing to be sorry for, dove,” Remus whispers softly in front of you, “but I’m gonna have to ask you to take a deep breath for me,” you do as he says, breathing deep and slow, “good girl…”

There’s a small pinch in your right lobe that quickly dulls into numbness before Remus secures something behind it and a lingering weight is left. You feel Sirius kiss the slope of your shoulder, muttering soft praises as he does so. There’s some shuffling before you feel Remus take his place before you again.

“One more time, dove, take a deep breath…” he gently commands as you easily follow. There’s another small pinch but in your left lobe this time. Again, Remus secures something behind it and as the numbness lingers so does an added weight.

Your eyes flutter open just as Remus presses a kiss onto your forehead, “you were such a good girl for me,” he praises, smiling and then holds up a mirror for you to admire the delicate earrings decorating your ears with a bright smile, “it suits you, darling,”

“You just keep getting prettier,” Sirius chuckles and squeezes you in his arms once more, ”well done, princess,”

A/N : i went a little overboard with the writing, i didn't know it would stretch on for so long but i hope you enjoy the read! i'm sorry it took me a while to fulfil this request, life kinda got in the way but here it is! please tell me what you think!

NAVI. | HEROES IN TATTOOS SERIES

TAGLIST : @melinajenkins @astonishment @until-i-found-you @corp0real @sageskisses444 @celestcies @lovelydoveval @inlovewithremusjohnlupin @calums-betch @futurecorps3 @hihihi1112 @simpingforthe80s @yrluvjane @neeezza101 @chaosofmanyfandoms @susyelectra @fangirlninja67 @pagesfalling @thepunisherfrankcastle @axeofwars @imarimon @justkiyomi @in-love-with-4-marauders @chicken-taco-burrito @valencia-sou @feast0nmeee @lestat-whore @hvmxjjk @twilightlover2007 @diaryofabiwoman @woohoney @celestialfantasiess @willbedecided @lovelyygirl8 @iiirhiane-g @ghostgardn @mess-is-my-aesthetic

#james potter x reader #sirius black x reader #remus lupin x reader #poly marauders x reader #poly marauders #marauders fic #sirius black #marauders #sirius x reader #sirius black fic #james potter #james potter fanfiction #james potter x you #the marauders #remus lupin #remus lupin fluff

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milfsloverblog · 7 months

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Secret Benefits (NSFW)

Part 3 (previous part here)

Sugar mommy!Larissa Weems x Fem!Reader

A/N: Listen, you guys know me, I just had to include some angst in this. So, tiny bit of angst in this chapter, and these two idiots are still convinced that the other one doesn’t want them. OH!! You can see edits I made of Larissa’s outfit in this chapter here. Thank you for the enthusiasm you all show for this fic. Enjoy! <3

You were putting your shoes on when your phone buzzed with an incoming text from Larissa.

I’m here. Xx

She was right on time, of course she was.

You had arranged that she would pick you up from your place at 3, and you would spend the afternoon getting spoiled by her.

You took a last look in the mirror, wondering if you should have opted for a lighter lipstick, not that you had enough time to change it anyway.

Larissa had told you to wear something comfortable, but not too comfortable. “A blouse and some black pants will do just right,” she’d said, and you had sent her a picture of the few blouses you owned, letting her pick the one she wanted you to wear.

Your jaw dropped when you stepped out of your flat and caught Larissa standing by her car, slightly leaning on it. She wore a suit this time, a deep burgundy suit that perfectly matched her lipstick, with a white shirt underneath. Her hair had been let down from its usual intricate updo, her silver curls falling on her shoulders and framing her soft, pale face. She was a vision, truly, and it made you stop functioning for a moment.

“Hello, darling.” Larissa flashed you a smile when you finally reached her.

“Hi, Larissa.” You smiled back, getting on your tiptoe to place a kiss on her cheek, feeling one of her hands on your waist as you did so.

She wore flats this time, and you found that she wasn’t that tall without her heels. She was still tall, sure, but it was perfect. She was the perfect height. She was perfect.

“Hop inside, sweetling,” she said as she pulled the car door open for you, letting you get inside.

The ride wasn’t too long, it was spent with her hand on your thigh as you told her about your week and how you nearly had an argument with your coworker when you’d asked to take the day off, making Larissa chuckle a little.

“You said you’ve never been to a place like this, right?” Larissa asked as she pushed the door to the shop open and followed you inside.

“Yeah, it definitely is a first.” You nodded, looking around at the mannequins.

A small brunette quickly made her way over to the both of you, flashing Larissa a wide smile.

“Miss Weems,” she said. “I hope you’re doing well. Would you require some help with your shopping today?”

Larissa looked down at you before looking back at the assistant.

“Thank you, Clarice, but it won’t be necessary. I will let you know if we ever need some assistance.” Larissa smiled and the brunette nodded before going back to where she had appeared from.

“Come,” Larissa said, leading you through the shop. “I was thinking, since this is your first time, that I will let you choose the sets you’d like to try on. I will, however, still pick a couple of things I’d like to see you wearing.”

You gave a nod, happy at the prospect that you’d have some free rein while still being under Larissa’s control.

She walked with you around the shop, giving you advice on which fabric was the softest, which lingerie would be better suited to wear for a whole day and which one would be better for special occasions.

It was almost hypnotising, listening to her talking so passionately about colours and fabric, watching her fingertips brushing the different sets as she spoke.

Larissa chose three pieces for you to try on. A white lace body and a sage bra and panties set. You personally picked a burgundy set, something that matched her outfit, and a royal blue one.

The woman showed you the way to the changing room, helping you carry the pieces you were to try on.

“Let me know what you think of them, will you?” She asked.

You nodded and smiled before closing the curtain and taking a deep breath.

Right, you thought, time to try on some lingerie while the hottest woman alive is waiting right outside.

You took your time undressing and trying on the first set, the blue one. It looked nice, but it wasn’t what you had expected when choosing it.

“I tried the blue set on,” you told Larissa. “It’s beautiful, but not on me.”

Larissa’s eyebrows knitted. Not beautiful on you, what did that even mean? If only she could see you, see what you meant by “not on me”. But alas…

A couple of minutes went by without another word from you until you let out a frustrated groan.

“Larissa?” You called, getting a soft hum in answer. “I can’t close the button at the back all by myself, could you maybe…”

Larissa straightened her shoulders before pushing the curtain aside, just enough to slip herself inside the changing room.

You were trying on the white body she had picked for you, your hands desperately reaching back to close the button.

“Let me,” she said gently, her fingers brushing against the skin of your back as she buttoned the body shut.

Larissa took a step back once it was done, watching as you looked at yourself in the mirror. You felt a little unconscious as you spun on your heels to show her the result. She had picked this model, after all, you thought she’d like to see what it looked like on you.

The tall woman’s breath hitched as she watched you turn around. She had picked the perfect model for you.

“May I?” She asked, lifting her hand and reaching out when you nodded your approval.

“Here,” Larissa said, gently pulling on the lace that covered your left breast and making sure it lay flat against your skin.

Your eyes never left her face as she did so, not even when her fingers brushed against the swell of your left breast and made you shiver.

She looked beautiful, she looked passionate, but there was something else there too, hidden deep inside her blue eyes. Something more primal, something the lion felt when the antelope stepped too close to it.

“Beautiful,” Larissa whispered under her breath. “It’s a beautiful piece, I suggest you get this one. But the choice is all yours today, enjoy it while it lasts.” She winked and took a last up-and-down look at you before stepping out of the changing room.

Another moment went by where you let Larissa know that the sage set, as pretty as it was, simply wasn’t your colour.

You tried the burgundy set last, smiling as you looked at your reflection. It looked great on you, and the thought of wearing underwear that matched Larissa’s outfit was arousing in more ways than one.

You took a deep breath and brushed your fingertips on your breasts, closing your eyes as you imagined them to be someone else’s fingers.

Larissa walked back and forth in front of the closed curtain while you changed back into your clothes. She had managed to steady her heartbeat, taking a couple more deep breaths to fully relax herself.

She was about to take another step when she noticed that the curtain wasn’t properly closed. She didn’t think twice as she reached up and grabbed a handful of the velvety fabric to close it, only to unintentionally catch a glimpse of you inside the changing room.

If Larissa’s heartbeat had successfully steadied previously, it felt like it had completely stopped as her eyes landed on you. It only took less than a second for her brain to register what you were doing with one of your hands splayed on the wall while the other one busied itself between your legs.

Larissa held her breath, her mouth falling slightly open as she watched you. This was better than anything she had imagined when touching herself and thinking of you. She watched for what seemed to be hours, her eyes never leaving your face, wishing to memorise every single one of your expressions.

She wanted to see you climax, she craved to know the face you’d make as you’d reach your peak, if your knees would buckle and if you’d keep touching yourself to overstimulation.

Larissa, the little voice tugged at the back of her mind. Larissa, you shouldn’t. Larissa… Larissa!

The tall woman jumped and quickly shut the heavy curtain, her knuckles turning white as she kept tightly holding onto the fabric.

Larissa closed her eyes, her head hanging low as she let go of the curtain. She hated it. Not the fact that she had caught you masturbating, no. She hated the nagging feeling in her chest, one that she knew all too well.

She remembered feeling that nagging thing for the first time as a teenager when Morticia had started getting closer to Gomez and more distant from her.

That nagging feeling had grown and grown and grown until it had seeped through the cracks of Larissa’s heart and filled her whole body.

She hadn’t been able to properly control her shapeshifting abilities back then, and so she had woken up one day with her skin tinted a deep grassy green. She had hidden in her room for a couple of days, spending hours scrubbing at her skin in the shower only to burst into tears of frustration when nothing helped.

There was nothing she could do about it, Larissa had literally turned green with jealousy.

And she felt it again, as she took a step back from the changing room, that awful nagging pull in her heart.

She was buying you lingerie, beautiful silk and lace that you would wear for someone else. For the person you were thinking about right then with your hand between your legs, the one who would get to peel those expensive pieces off your body.

And it made Larissa sick with envy. She was sure that hadn’t she been able to control herself, she would have turned green again.

If she only had watched you for a moment longer, Larissa would have caught her name slipping from your mouth barely audibly as your thighs clenched around your hand, a strong orgasm washing over you.

It took you a few minutes to fully get down from your high, your cheeks burning in embarrassment as you realised what you had done. Anyone could have caught you. A shop assistant, a customer, Larissa. That last thought made you shiver, you would have died on the spot if the older woman had caught you masturbating.

You quickly got dressed and picked two sets from the ones you had tried on, the burgundy one that matched Larissa’s suit and the white one she seemed to have loved on you.

“Larissa,” you said as you walked out of the changing room carrying the lingerie.

The woman looked up and you could immediately tell that something had happened. She did push a smile, but it wasn’t quite right, it didn’t reach her eyes like it usually did.

“Did you make your choice, darling?” She asked, looking at the pieces in your hands.

“Yes, yes. I like these the most.” You raised your right hand to show her the ones you’d want to keep, earning a nod from the older woman.

“Larissa, is everything alright? You seem a bit-“ your question was interrupted by the same shop assistant from earlier asking you if you had found anything to your liking. You showed her the sets you’d like to keep and handed them to her so she could take them to the till.

Larissa’s hand fell on the small of your back and she guided you to follow the shop assistant. She was quiet, awfully quiet as she pulled her Visa card from her handbag and paid for your items. And still awfully quiet as you both walked out of the shop and back towards her car.

She took the bag from your hand and placed it in the trunk of her car before opening the passenger door for you, only closing it once you were comfortably seated.

You didn’t know what it was exactly, but you could feel the bad energy oozing from Larissa as she sat down by your side. Something had happened, that much was clear, and you feared it was somehow your fault.

A few minutes passed where both of you remained silent, Larissa’s eyes never leaving the road. She stopped at a traffic light and your gaze fell on her hand holding the gear lever, noticing the death grip that she had on it.

“Larissa,” you whispered, your fingers gently wrapping around hers on the lever. The small gesture seemed to be enough to snap the woman out of her trance, her head turning so she could look at you.

“I’m sorry, darling. I’ve lost myself in my thoughts again.” She pushed a small smile, one that looked more sincere than the previous one. “Did you have fun today?”

“I did, I enjoyed every second of it,” you said sincerely, your thumb gently brushing her fingers. “And I don’t want it to end now.” You admitted.

Larissa looked at you for a moment, her sapphire eyes boring into yours.

Is that really all there is to it? She wanted to ask. Are you just company to me and am I just easy money to you?

“We’ll have dinner,” she said, looking back to the road when the light turned green.

“Dinner sounds perfect. Where are you taking me?”

“The Paragon.” She answered without thinking twice.

You noticed the quick look she gave to your outfit, making you shuffle in your seat.

“If my outfit isn’t appropriate for the place you’re taking me to, we could drop by my house and I’ll wear the dress you bought for our first date.”

Date, the word echoed through Larissa’s mind.

“Get in the backseat,” Larissa said, a little authoritatively almost like a teacher would.

“Sorry?” You shook your head, watching as she parked the car.

“Get in the backseat, there’s a shopping bag. Something I bought for you a few days ago and wanted to make you wear on our next…rendezvous.” She explained.

You gave a quick nod and stepped out of the car to quickly get in the backseat.

“Vivienne Westwood?” You raised an eyebrow. Even someone who didn’t know much about fashion would know about Vivienne Westwood.

“Yes, she used to be one of my favourites when I was younger,” Larissa said, turning the engine back on to drive away. “But I’ve become more reasonable now.”

You opened the bag and pulled out the piece of clothing, a long black dress with long sleeves and white patterns.

“It should fit with your flats.” She said, looking at you in the rear-view mirror.

“I absolutely love it, thank you, Larissa.” You smiled and gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze, earning yourself a smile from the woman.

“Get changed,” she said. “We’ll be at the restaurant in about twenty minutes.”

“Here?” You frowned.

“Well, yes, here.” Larissa chuckled as if it was the most evident thing ever. “The windows are tinted, no one can see you from the outside.”

But you can, you thought.

“I won’t look.” She added as if she could read your mind.

You stayed still for a moment but eventually gave a nod before starting to unbutton your blouse.

Larissa kept her eyes on the road as much as she possibly could, her knuckles once again turning white as she gripped the steering wheel. She could see you peeling off your clothes in the rear-view mirror from the corner of her eyes. She had to refrain from stealing a few glances, biting onto the inside of her cheeks to keep herself focused.

“Your underwear too,” Larissa said, a little too strictly which made you jump.

“I thought you weren’t looking!”

“And I’m not. But the bag is in the trunk, so I know you haven’t changed that. Pull on the middle seat and reach for the bag. I want you to wear the burgundy one.”

“Oh, wanting to match?” You teased a little, pulling on the middle seat once you had gotten rid of your bra and panties.

Larissa allowed herself one glance then, only one. She was greeted by the expanse of your naked back flexing as your arm reached inside the trunk for the shopping bag.

Her eyes snapped back to the road when you straightened up, but not before she could catch a glimpse of your side boob, her tongue instinctively darting out to wet her lips.

“You can look now,” you said once you had put the lingerie on. It wasn’t anything that Larissa hadn’t already seen.

Larissa waited a short moment before looking in the mirror, not wanting to appear too eager to watch you.

You put the dress on, muttering under your breath as you struggled with the zipper for a moment, making Larissa chuckle softly.

“We’ve arrived,” she said, parking the car in front of the restaurant just as you managed to zip the dress up.

Larissa stepped out of the car and opened the back door, offering you her hand to help you out of the car which you gladly took.

“You look beautiful,” she said, looking you up and down. “It suits you. I thought it might be a bit too long, but it’s perfect.”

“You look beautiful too,” You said, squeezing Larissa’s hand.

The older woman looked taken aback by the compliment, so much so that it made you wonder if it was a rare occurrence for her.

“You do!” You reassured her, grinning from ear to ear. “Thank you for the dress and the lingerie. I’ll wear it thinking of you.”

Larissa's body moved automatically, her hand cupping your cheek as she stepped forward, trapping you between the car and herself.

I’ll wear it thinking of you, your voice sounded in her head. Do you have any idea what you do to me, she wanted to ask. Do you have any idea what you do to me?

“Larissa,” you whispered, taking hold of the hand that was cupping your cheek and kissing its palm, successfully snapping your companion out of her thoughts. The heat emanating from her body mixed with her perfume was unbearable, you needed her to step away before you did something you would regret.

“I’m sorry, sweetling,” she said, taking a step back and pulling her hand away from you.

Your chest was heaving up and down, Larissa noticed. Had she scared you? She hoped she hadn’t. She needed to get a grip on herself and control those…urges.

She doesn’t want you, told the little voice at the back of her mind. Stick that in your brain, Larissa. She doesn’t want you like that.

And she tried, Larissa really tried to get that into her brain. But as you walked inside the restaurant together and you slipped your hand in hers, letting your fingers interlace, she couldn’t help but wonder - what if?

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#gwendoline christie #larissa weems x reader #larissa weems #no beta we die like larissa #principal weems #larissa weems x y/n #secret benefits

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btsugarush · 1 year

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GANGSTA | myg [teaser]

summary: rough sex, blood money, drugs, and gang related activity; four things you never predicted to experience in your simple life. not until you opened your mouth and caught his attention.

pairings: gang leader!yoongi x f!reader

warnings: smut, gunplay, drugs, drug addiction, dark!yoongi, drug lord!yoongi, strong language, gang violence, blood and gore, murder, manipulation, possessive/obsessive behavior, abuse, cheating, angst, fluff, dubcon, implied noncon (not from yoongi but within his gang with his knowledge), 18+, minors dni

word count: 931

Your heels clicked against the pavement as you walked the empty streets alone. You were glad to have picked a restaurant that wasn’t too far from your apartment because nothing was scarier than Daegu at night. It didn’t matter if you lived in the suburbs or not. The freaks tend to come out at night.

Bright headlights suddenly beam behind you, flashing on and off as though the driver was trying to catch your attention. “Hey, Y/N!” A familiar voice called out to you.

You stop walking, watching as a black SUV pulls up beside you. Nam-Joon sticks his head out the window, smirking down at you from the truck. You notice in the car with him are three other guys that you recognize from Yoongi’s gang. You suddenly got this uneasy feeling in the pit of your stomach.

“What a coincidence finding you out here, doll,” His eyes raked up and down your body. “You shouldn’t be walking alone at this time of night, especially dressed like that. A lot of suspicious characters roam around this time,”

‘Yeah, and you’re one of them.’ You thought.

“Hop in. We’ll take you home.” He offers, but for some reason it felt backhanded. “No thanks,” you decline. “I’m not far from home, I can handle walking.” You turn on your heels, carrying on with your walk. Nam-Joon slowly follows you in the SUV, not taking no for an answer. “Oh c’mon, I’m just tryna do something nice,” He remained persistent. “At least I’m not leaving you high and dry like your boy Jungkook.”

You come to a complete stop upon hearing Jungkook’s name. How did he know you were meeting Kookie tonight? Better yet– how did he know that Jungkook was a no show? You turn to him, your suspicions heightened. “How did you know I was supposed to be meeting Jungkook?” Joon shrugs his shoulders, a sly grin on his face. “Just an estimated guess. I mean, isn’t he the reason you broke it off with the boss?” The question comes off hostile, almost bitter-like.

You swallowed the lump that sat still in the back of your throat, the atmosphere becoming more ominous by the minute. “So, you gettin’ in?” You shook your head. “I-I’m good...” You move forward, picking up your speed away from the SUV. If he and those other men tried anything you were definitely outnumbered by a long shot. You could hear Joon casually whistling in the distance, and as you peer back at the car you see he’s still sitting where you left him.

Relief washes over you as you turn back to see your apartment come into view. You quickly enter the building, practically sprinting down the hall to your unit. You dig through your purse in search of your key, shifting the clutter of makeup around, but had no luck finding the tiny piece of metal.

The sound of whistling swiftly echoes through the hallway, and your heart begins to pound heavily against your chest in a panic. “Come on, come on, come on...” Your voice quivered in fear. “Where the fuck is it?”

Fed up, you flip your purse upside down and shake out all of its contents; a bunch of makeup, your wallet, and pepper spray all drop to the floor. You continue to shake the bag until finally your key falls out with a loud clunk. You snatch it from the floor, shoving it into the keyway so viciously that you thought the end might snap off. You hastily push open the door before slamming it shut, and locking it behind you.

Your head rests against the doorframe as you try to calm yourself down. You were trembling. Who knows what would have happened if Joon got ahold of you, or if you were moronic enough to get inside that car. You’ve seen firsthand what he’s capable of, and that whole encounter was very minacious. There’s a reason he’s Yoongi’s right hand man.

You check out your peephole, making sure he wasn’t standing outside of your unit. It would take nothing for him to simply kick down this door, but at least the ruckus would catch the neighbor's attention. They could possibly call the police, or at least identify him if they witnessed the ordeal.

It didn’t take a genius to know that Yoongi was behind this. He had to have set this whole thing up. You were stupid to believe he would so willingly let you just end your relationship with him, no matter how cool he played it off. You knew what kind of twisted man he was, you’ve seen him coldly take the lives of others without even a blink or afterthought.

You kicked your heels from your feet, before you shuffled to your bedroom. You debated on calling Kookie again to make sure he was okay. You were beginning to get a really bad feeling that something happened to him.

You pull open the sliding door, switching on your bedroom light as it was pitch black. When the room lights up, you freeze in place, as you’re met with a pair of sinister eyes glaring at you. “Did you enjoy your little date?”

“Y-Yoongi…” Your voice hitches in your throat. The raven haired man is sitting on the end of your mattress, his arms rested on his knees. His hair is hanging in his face, almost covering his eyes. The sight made him look even more feral. “H-how did you get into my apartment?” You questioned timidly.

“I’m a fucking criminal, Princess. Did you forget that?”

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gingernut1314 · 3 months

Text

Face Your Fears

Luffy x GN!Reader

Summary: Deep in the jungle, you are faced with your biggest fear and your captain is more than happy to help you.

Warnings: fluff, fear of spiders, very mild spoilers for the anime (Alabasta arc to Post-Enies Lobby arc mentioned), use of Y/N

Word Count: 1.4K

A/N: This is my first "full-fledged" Luffy fic soooo I hope it turned out okay lol. Regardless, I hope you all enjoy!! 🩷🩷🩷

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You stood deathly still in the middle of the thick, dense jungle. Sweat ran down your skin in pools, the muggy heat doing nothing to help calm you down. Your muscles had grown so taut you feared they might snap under the pressure. Your limbs were frozen in place as you fought against the rising panic in your chest.

This was a nightmare. Your worst nightmare.

The one thing you feared above everything else.

And you were stuck--unable to move to free yourself from the situation.

You whimpered pitifully as your captain came hopping back down from the tree he had climbed, bouncing like some ball as he called your name, arm extended to show off the stick he had found for you to admire.

“This one is so much cooler then the one you found. Usopp is going to be so jealo--why are you all pale?” Luffy asked, titling his strawhat adorned head and blinking his long eyelashes slowly at you as he tried to figure out what was wrong.

Everything was wrong. So, so wrong.

“H-Help.” Your tightened throat croaked out. “Help me. Please.” Luffy’s easy going nature shifted instantly, steady seriousness filling his dark brown eyes as they scanned the small amount of cleared space you both stood in.

“What’s wrong? Someone here?”

“Luffy.” You stressed, that nightmare growing closer and closer. He snapped back to you and you found the strength within you to shakily lift your hand to point to your other, already outstretched arm. “Please--get it off.”

His eyes followed your guidance to find the big, furry spider crawling its way slowly up your arm. One that had some how, thanks your horrible luck, had found its way to land on you.

But, instead of instantly coming to your rescue, that signature grin of his stretched across his face, bringing attention to the thin scar just under his left eye.

“Cooool! Where did you find that tarantula?” Luffy asked, coming into your orbit. He took your wrist in his strong, warm hand only so he could observe the creature more closely.

“Get it off!” You panicked, your heart feeling as if it might burst out of your chest. “Please, please, please get it off!” Your panic turned into a near sob of fear, your eyes beginning to sting with it.

“‘Kay.” Luffy shurgged, happily scooping the too-many legged monster off your skin.

The frozen spell the vile beast had put you under fell away and you scrambled from Luffy, bumping into a nearby tree in your rush. You frantically swiped and scrubbed at your skin to try and get rid of the icky feel of all those furry legs.

“He’s not bad, Y/N. He’s friendly, see.” Luffy said, bounding back over to you, spider in hand, to show you just how ‘firendly’ it was.

“NO! Luffy!” You screamed, sprinting away from your captain who continued to happily chase you with it like this was a game, that cackling, mischievous laugh of his never ceasing.

“He’s so tiny and fluffy! He’s not gonna hurt you.”

“Tiny? Look at it’s fangs!” You screeched as Luffy hopped infront of you again. You were quick to freeze in your place before you could run head first into Luffy and the horrid demon he held. Luffy smiled brightly at you as he raised the spider up all too close to his eyes.

“You know it would be the coolest if we could have fangs too.” He mused, lightly petting the tarantula who seemed too at ease within Luffy’s hold. “Like….this!” Luffy snapped his head back towards you, both his canine teeth stretched, thanks to his Devil Fruit powers, to resemble that of long, sharp fangs. You huffed in annoyance at him.

“Can you please just--throw it away or something? It’s--I don’t like it.” Luffy gave a loud whine in protest, teeth snapping back to normal.

“But--Y/N, just come look at him. He’s super cute. And you like super cute animals. He’s like Chopper--well…expect he’s not a reindeer and can’t talk.” Luffy said, starting towards you once more. You took a step back with every step he took forward.

“It sure as hell is nowhere near as cute as Chopper. I don’t want to look at it.” You snapped.

“He’s more scared of you then you are of him, I swear.” You yelped when your back hit another tree, blocking you from moving any further. Your heart began to race as you spied the demon still resting in Luffy’s plam.

“Luffy--I’m serious.”

“And I’m serious too. Can you just look at him? Please? I’ll hold him the whole time.” Luffy begged, thankfully stopping in his journey towards you. You watched him and the monster for a very, very long moment. A moment you took to try and calm your heaving breath.

“Will it make you quit bugging me with that--thing, if I do?” Luffy nodded rapidly, his smiling growing ever the more wide. “Don’t you dare more or I swear I’ll kill you.”

“Still as a statue.” Luffy said, making a show of freezing up his body. You approached him as slow as a snail, your breath becoming heavy and short all over again.

“It’s okay. You know I won’t let anything happen to you.” Luffy smoothed as you came to a stop a few inches before him. His words helped steady your breathing, but made your heart pitter-patter in a different rhythm then that of fear or panic.

A rhythm your heart had been beating for your captain for a long, long time now. Ever since he had dragged you from your little back water home and took you on all the adventures you had ever dreamed of.

From wicked, hook-wielding Warlords, islands in the sky full of angels, strange games amongst enemy pirates, to islands flooded with water, and the start of new friendships--that rhythm had been there, sounding only for him. For the man who was making your dreams become a reality and whose kind and warm, yet strong nature pushed you to grow more then you could have ever thought possible.

And here he was again, pushing you to over come this seemingly silly fear of yours in such a--loving and caring way that just made that rhythm beat all the more fast.

“Its…” It was ugly. It was just as horrible to look at in Luffy hand as it was on your arm…but it was fluffy…and you did enjoy a good fluffy animal. “It looks like he’s wearing orange socks.” You observed, glancing up at Luffy whose smile was brighter then the sun beating down on you.

“He does! That’s what we should call him then. Socks!” Luffy broke his statued state to pet the spider again. “Hi, Socks. You’re gonna love it on the Sunny. We’ll even have Franky build you a tank--Oo! Right next to the aquarium!” You snapped away from the spider with a shake of your head.

“No. That thing--”

“Socks.” Luffy reminded you chipperly. You only huffed.

“Socks is not coming with us back to the Sunny.” Luffy whined again as you started for your dropped supply pack.

“But--he’ll be lonely here.” You felt your skin prick in more fear when Luffy’s voice was much closer to you then it had been before. You hesitantly looked to the side to find a thousand beady little eyes staring back at you. You gave a throaty scream that you tried to keep as muffled as you physically could, all but throwing yourself backward.

“He--he has family here, I’m sure.” You said as calmly as you could, pulling your pack onto your shoulder. Luffy groaned, but agreed with you.

“Yeah.” You watched him place Socks on a moss covered log, saying a quick goodbye to the furry beast. Luffy’s sad face made you feel just the tiniest bit sorry for him…for him and Socks.

“Luffy…” You said as he grabbed up his stick again and you both started back through the jungle. “I’m sorry we couldn’t keep Socks.” Luffy shrugged.

“Eh. You’re right. He has a family here. A life. I couldn’t take him from that.” Luffy said, that lovely smile of his pulling to his face. “Besides,” He continued, throwing an arm over your shoulders and pulling you into his side. You felt your skin heat and heart start up its pitter-pattering all over again at his closeness. “I wouldn’t want Socks to keep scaring you like that.” He said, nuzzling his face into your cheek. You leaned into his affectionate touch, savoring anything he would give you.

“Thank you…maybe we can find a less--leggy animal to keep as a pet.” Luffy lit up like one of Usopp’s fireworks.

“Really?” You nodded, spurring Luffy’s hold on you to fall away despite your want to keep him close. “Awesome! I’m gonna go look!” He stated before bouncing off deeper into the jungle, leaving you to try and calm your racing heart all over again.

Taglist: @fanaticsnail

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junniieesbby · 2 months

Text

🐻ིྀ PhotoBooth|Choi Beomgyu 🐻ིྀ

Pairing: Non Idol Beomgyu x F!reader

Genre: Established relationship! Smut, with fluff.

WC: 1K

Rating: 18+ MDNI

Summary: You are out with your boyfriend Beomgyu and come across a photo booth. You can’t help but drag him in there and make your fantasy a reality.

Warning: Public Sex, Oral (Male Receiving), Use of pet names. Creampie, breeding kink, biting. Let me know if I missed any.

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Nothing mentioned in this fiction represents any of the characters.

A/N: Hello Lovelies!! This is part of Mine and @boba-beom Tubatu’s year long birthday Event. I hope you enjoyed it. Please don’t be shy to let me know your honest thoughts. You can send me asks as well!! Also don’t be shy to join and participate in the birthday event. We would love to see so many more participants!this is like 2 days late I’m sorry the tags were not working 🥺

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

“Baby, look there is a photobooth, let's go please” You pouted while dragging your boyfriend to the booth. “Okay okay baby slow down” Your boyfriend chuckles at how eager you are.

Entering the photobooth you can't help but notice how tiny it really is. Beomgyu sat down first and wrapped his arms around your waist pulling you down to sit on his lap. Sitting right on his crotch you couldn’t help but move to feel more comfortable earning a groan and a “behave” from Beomgyu.

“I was just getting situated silly!” you turn to face him, giving his cheek a peck. “Getting situated? Or trying to get fucked in a public?” Beomgyu remarks. “I would never turn down getting fucked in public, but you know what really wanna do right now?” You start to slightly grind on him. “What is it that you really wanna do?” He grips your hips to stop you. You can feel his hard on. You always loved making him feel this way just from a little friction.

“How about I show you.” You teasingly told him. Sliding down from his lap meeting with his covered crotch. You worked fast on unbuttoning his pants and pulling his dick out, giving it a few strokes. “I want a strip of photos where I’m sucking your cock baby” Beomgyu whimpers and nods.

You start giving his tip kitten licks while you stroked the rest of his dick. Teasing Beomgyu was your favorite thing to do. You would tease him and he would be a good boy and listen to you, but the moment you were done he would flip you over and fuck you like there was no tomorrow.

You started to take him in your mouth inch by inch until your nose met with his pelvis. You stayed there until you gagged. “Fuckkk baby your mouth is so warm and wet you're taking me so well” He reaches for your head and thrusts, making you gag on him once again.

You kept bobbing your head and making sure to pay attention to his balls as well massaging them or occasionally sucking on them. “Start the timer please I want my strip of photos with your cock in my mouth” Releasing one of his hands from your hair he started the timer for the photos. You couldn’t wait to see his face in all of the pictures.

You kept sucking him off and deep throating him to get the perfect pictures. “Princess if you keep going I’ll cum in your mouth and I need your pussy” He moans your name pulling you off. You grabbed the photos and looked at the faces he made. He had his mouth wide open with his eyes closed. In another he was biting his lip to stop from moaning too loud. You can see your own head and how he had his hands tangled in your head.They were so perfect exactly how you imagine.

“You got your strip of photos baby girl how bout you be a good girl and come hop on my cock so I can have my own set of photos with me inside that sweet pussy” Beomgyu says as he strokes his own dick. “Okay hot stuff and make sure you come in me please!” You tell him getting up and settling in his lap again. “My little whore needs my babies inside her I see.” He said aligning himself with your entrance allowing you to adjust to his size. “Yes very much so. I need you to breed me. I need your cum so bad” Beomgyu moans and smacks your ass at your dirty words.

“Ride my cock baby, use me to get us both off come on angel I know you got it in you.” At his words you start to ride and hop on his dick like you were a bunny in heat. “Just like that baby girl just like that. Let me lift your skirt up a little so the camera captures your cute ass” You were too fucked out to form any words and your walls started to clench around him. “Fuck your sweet cunt is going to squeeze all the cum out of me isn’t it?” He starts the timer knowing you are close and so was he wanting to capture the perfect moments.

“I'm so close baby please can I come?” You ask out of habit of always asking him before getting your release. “Go ahead baby i'm right there with you let me paint your walls white hmm” He reaches down and flicks your bud which makes you come leaning down biting his neck to stop your loud moan from escaping. He took over and started to thrust upwards until his thrusts were sloppy and you felt warm liquid paint your walls.

After you both catch your breaths you pull away from his neck smiling at him while he grabs the back of your neck to bring your face close to him. “That was perfect baby.” he said, kissing you deeply. He pulls out of you and readjusts your underwear so his cum doesn’t spill out while reaching forward to look at the photos. They were perfect in his mind. The picture consisted of you with your back arched. Him smacking your ass while biting down on your shoulder. His favorite one was when you had your orgasm and you had to bite his neck to suppress the moans.

“Wow I guess we both got the set of photos we wanted '' You tell him giggling. “Be honest with me baby is getting fucked in a photobooth on your list of places to get fucked in?” He already knew the answer to that but wanted you to admit it. “You know me so well handsome, Now I can check Photobooth off my list” You say getting out of his lap. “What am I going to do with you?” He shakes his head. “Love me and fuck me duh” You dragged your chuckiling boyfriend out of the booth. Spending the rest of the day outside and feeling his cum run down your legs, but you loved it and didn’t care if people took notice.

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#MDNI #Beomgyu #Beomgyu smut #Beomgyu fluff #beomgyu x fem reader #beomgyu imagines #beomgyu scenarios #beomgyu hard hours #beomgyu hard thoughts #txt smut #txt fluff #txt imagines

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cherryrainn · 4 months

Note

hello! i've noticed you've started writing for slashers now. can i pleaaaaseee get a chucky (show) x depressed/suicidal reader? like they come back from school and have a little breakdown and chucky does something about it cuz he has a soft spot for them?

STRIVE .

; pairing ; chucky x reader (platonic)

; note ; i love this little guy so much thank you for your ask aaa

; warnings ; implied/mentions of self-harm, self harm scars, depression, suicidal thoughts

the door slammed shut as you stumbled into your room, backpack dropping to the floor. the weight of the day pressed down on your shoulders, and the room felt like a suffocating mess. you kicked off your shoes, barely registering the mess around you.

little did you remember the small doll on your shelf, his tiny eyes watching your every move. he had an unusual soft spot for you.

your hands shook as you tried to pull yourself together, but the room seemed to spin with chaos. clothes were scattered, and the once-organized desk was now a disaster zone. your vision blurred with unshed tears, and in a moment of desperation, you swiped everything off the desk.

thunk.

a small sound caught your attention, and you looked down to see chucky lying on the floor, separated from his usual perch. his eyes seemed to convey a mix of concern and annoyance.

"aw, come on, kid. watch where you're throwin' stuff," he grumbled, picking himself up from the floor.

you blinked, recognizing the doll but not fully comprehending the situation. "chucky? what are you doing here?"

he rolled his eyes, a hint of impatience in his tiny features. "been keepin' an eye on you, remember? you look like you're having a.. rough day."

you sighed, running a hand through your disheveled hair. "it's more than a rough day. everything just feels... bad."

as you spoke, chucky's sharp eyes took in the state of your room, the disarray reflecting the chaos within you. when you absentmindedly reached for something, a small glint of metal catching the light, he noticed the blade in your hand.

"whoa, whoa, whoa! what do you think you're doing?" chucky's tone shifted from annoyance to genuine concern.

your gaze dropped to the blade, and a shaky breath escaped your lips. "i don't know. everything just hurts."

he huffed, shaking his tiny head. "you gotta cut that shit out." he realizes what he says and shakes his head "there's better ways to deal with this stuff. trust me."

without waiting for your response, chucky jumped onto the bed, grabbing a tissue box from the nightstand. he began tidying up the room, muttering to himself about how a clean space might help clear your head.

you watched in a mix of confusion and gratitude as chucky worked, helping you without a hint of his usual murderous intent. the doll's actions spoke louder than his words ever could, and slowly, the weight on your chest began to ease.

when the room was somewhat orderly, chucky hopped back onto the bed, giving you a small nod. "alright. let's see the damage you did to yourself," he said, his tone stern.

you hesitated, feeling a strange mix of shame and vulnerability. slowly, you revealed the self-inflicted wounds on your arms. the harsh reality of your actions was laid bare for chucky to see.

chucky's features turned grim as you revealed the scars and wounds that marred your skin.

"damn it. look at what you're doin' to yourself," chucky growled, a flicker of anger in his tiny eyes. "you think this is gonna solve anything?"

his words stung, but there was an odd sincerity in the way he spoke. you could tell he wasn't one for empty platitudes or gentle reassurances; he dealt in harsh realities.

"hurtin' yourself ain't gonna fix a damn thing. you're just addin' more pain."

you bit your lip, fighting back tears as the weight of chucky's honesty settled in the room.

"i know it's messed up, chucky," you admitted, your voice a whisper. "but what else am i supposed to do? talking to people doesn't help. it never does."

chucky sighed, his tiny features scowling. "yeah, talkin' ain't usually the answer. but this?" he gestured to your scars. "this sure as shit ain't either."

the small doll hopped off the bed, pacing the room as he continued, "you gotta find somethin' else, somethin' that makes you feel alive, even if it's just for a damn minute. for me, it's killin' people. it's what makes me feel alive, it's not about fixin' everything; it's about findin' somethin' worth hangin' on for."

"i get that,," you mumbled, wiping away a stray tear. "but it's hard."

he shot you a stern look, his tiny hands planted firmly on his hips. "life's a damn tough ride, kid. but you're tougher."

you stayed silent, looking down.

"come on," chucky said, suddenly shifting gears. "let's get you something to distract that fucked-up brain of yours. ever tried playing video games?"

you blinked, caught off guard by the abrupt change in tone. "video games? really, chucky?"

he nodded, a sly grin crossing his plastic face. "trust me, it beats the hell out of scarin' yourself."

#CHUCKY #charles lee ray #chucky series #childs play #y/n #reader insert #x reader #ask #fluff #platonic #slasher #slasher x reader #chucky x reader #charles lee ray x reader

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updownlately · 1 year

Text

i promise that i'll love you (for the rest of my life)

| leah williamson x reader | fluff | 1.8k | inspo: black & white by niall horan | a/n: it's my first fic ever so let's see how this goes. it's almost 1.9k words of pure fluff and im not the most happy with it, but if i edit it anymore, im going to lose my mind. anyways, feedback is much appreciated please and thank you!

~~~

It's only a little over a year into this whole dating your teammate thing that it really clicks. That everything actually sets in. You’re halfway across the earth from where you grew up, playing soccer at one of the highest levels, and you managed to somehow get a girlfriend. Little you would have never guessed that this would be your life now. You’d always been meticulous in planning your future and decided that dreaming to professionally play football wouldn’t do you any harm. The understanding that you succeeded in making your dreams come true while somehow also being happy was still appalling to you. The fact that you were also breaking one of the few non-negotiable rules you’d set for yourself by dating a teammate, but not only that, you were doing so for Leah was only just a drop of water in the ocean.

Leah Williamson. Captain of England. A gunner through and through. A fighter. Someone who’s made London home not only for herself but for you too.

You really don’t know how it happened. Well you do, yet it creeped up on you so slowly, so timidly, that you didn’t know you were falling until you were metres from the ground, praying to be caught.

You had really only moved overseas to follow Tobin's footsteps. Being able to play a year with one of your best friends and that too for a club like Arsenal was an offer too good to pass, much less to hesitate on. So when it came through that not only were they signing her, but they wanted you to join too, all it took was a quick conversation with Christen and the rest of your friends before you were packing a bag and hopping across the pond.

So how'd you end up here? In a shared bed with Leah, spending more nights at her apartment than you had in your own since you moved here? Even better question, how the hell did you get Leah of all people to want to date you? You’d say you have no idea, yet the rest of your teammates, Tobin included, would just smack you upside the head and remind you of how smitten Leah was with your shy demeanour the first day you showed up to practice, Arsenal gear adoring you perfectly according to her.

It was clear as day to your teammates that from the start there was something between you two. The way Leah would go out of her way to talk to you before practice, complimenting you each time without fail, and how her seriousness on the pitch had lessened just a tiny bit when you were around. And you. Your painstakingly obvious shyness that heightened incredulously whenever Leah was around. Sure you were quiet in general, only often speaking when spoken to, content to just observe the world around you and people watch. Yet, whenever Leah came into view, your otherwise confident and upright figure would slowly hide behind whoever was nearest to you, which was typically Tobin.

“You do realize if you never talk to her outside of the pitch you won’t be able to make a move on her? Heart eyes and a tomato-d face is only going to get you so far," Tobin would tease.

In the end, it had taken Tobin damn near holding you in a death grip beside her for you to actually talk with Leah outside of training as both she and Wälti watched amusedly. That coupled with your team putting you and Leah in the most comically unfortunate, and not at all slick like they thought, situations over the course of a few months, and before you knew it, Leah had asked you to come around for dinner.

What started off as you both taking things slow quickly developed into something more before you guys had a chance to even consider any other option. Practices spent quietly murmuring jokes, possible plays, giving each other feedback on technique paved the way for post practice coffees and lunches. Shared car rides and playlists blasting, windows down on even the rainiest London days set the tone for movie marathons late into the night, popcorn long forgotten. Eyes drooping and barely focused on the dim lights illuminating the room one too many times and you eventually had a spare set of clothes in Leah's dresser, and hers in yours. Eventually it came as no surprise to your teammates when you both would consistently show up to and leave from practice together. You both in your car, you at the wheel and the blonde in the passenger where she’d without fail connect to aux became a common sight to players, trainers, and even staff.

Yet, you weren’t officially dating, neither of you willing to make the first move. The team had decided to let you two be, long given up on both of you, knowing how anxious you got with making decisions, and Leah being too stubborn to admit the possibility of you like liking her to ask. It was only when some of the English women’s team was over at Leah’s that your and her bubble was broken. Add both you and Leah cuddled up on the couch talking with the girls and a confused Keira walking in late, with a side of a follow up question of ‘So are you guys dating or is Leah still too chickenshit to ask?’ and the results were you choking on your spit with Leah stiff as a statue, eyes as wide as saucers right beside you.

Regardless of her brashness, you’d have Keira to thank when that same night Leah had quietly asked if you’d like to go on an official date with her in the coming days.

(Over half a year later you would find out that the instagram post Leah had made commemorating that night was not in fact reminiscent like you had originally thought, but instead for revenge from Keira, it featuring multiple unflattering photos of the other girl).

So where did that leave you now? If you were asked, your answer would be nothing short of heaven. Waking up to your girlfriend sleeping peacefully beside you, the first morning rays streaming in, and a late practice scheduled for midday with the team, all easily fitting the criteria for your ideal morning.

Rolling over to face your love, you snake a hand underneath her shirt from where it had lifted slightly. Continuing on its path, you let your arm wrap around her waist before gently tugging her towards you, pulling her back flush against your front. You leave a trail of soft kisses at her neck in apology when Leah lets out a small whine at the disturbance to her sleep.

It's a few minutes later that she turns to face you, the sleepy smile on her face igniting one on your own.

“Morning love,” you tease as Leah tries to burrow her head into your neck, trying to go back to sleep. Typically you’d pull away by now and the lack of your body heat would cause the blonde to follow your footsteps and get her day started as well, but who said you couldn’t indulge in your favourite treat once in a while.

So you pull Leah closer to you, letting her get comfortable, your hands finding their way under her shirt to gently scratch her back. It's when she hums contentedly and lets out a gentle sigh that you know you’ve made the right decision.

You lay like that for a while. The girl of your dreams in your arms, golden light bathing her in an ethereal glow that you think is an accurate representation of the angel she is to you. All that she’s really missing is a halo. And wings. Though maybe that’s not a good idea with how clumsy she could be sometimes. Maybe she’d even end up being like one of those birds that were caught flying straight into a glass pane head first. The thought that causes you to gently shake with laughter. The mental image of a Leah sprawled out on the floor while her wings lay mangled and her halo knocked on its side metres away causing you to evaluate whether you had lost your marbles somewhere between last night’s late night chat with your girlfriend and this morning.

Apparently and unfortunately, your musings were enough to wake up said girlfriend again as well. Her long arms stretched near your head and a groggy voice quietly asked what had gotten you in such a good mood so early in the morning.

“I get to wake up with a pretty girl in my arms, what’s there not to be in a good mood about?” The flirty reply earned you a smack to the chest as Leah adjusted to pull away from your grasp. She didn’t get quite far however, before you’re pulling her back in with your hand on her forearm.

“Okay, okay, damn, sorry for trying to love you up. What does it take for a girl to appease her girlfriend these days?”

“Some breakfast would do the trick? Plus maybe a ride to practice? And a few kisses? Oh and since we’re already on the topic, a few gifts, maybe a new pair of dunks would really seal the deal.” she cheekily responds, laying her head back on your chest.

“Oh snap, okay hmm lets see here. The best I can do is kisses and breakfast. The ride could possibly be arranged but the rest is quite hard to arrange you know? It’ll take resources I don't have.”

“Oh really? Please enlighten me on these resources you speak of.”

“Well for one, it would require me leaving the presence of my girlfriend, something I don’t think she’ll enjoy since she’s been really really really cling- OKAY OW IM SORRY.”

It’s on the third playful slap on the arm that you’re able to catch her hand in yours. using the surprise to your advantage you roll her onto her back and position yourself over her.

“How about this, we can knock the kisses off the list right now, breakfast can be arranged, and we can go adventure through the city in search of some dunks today after practice?”

And when Leah responds by pulling you closer and kissing you, you can’t help but smile into it, getting more excited for the day with each second that passes. Excited for each day together with every kiss shared. Excited for your future.

You seriously don’t know how you got here, Leah in your arms, a career you love, miles away from where you grew up, but you wouldn’t change it for the world. You’d spent your younger years daydreaming of the perfect future, one that you now had in your grasp, and you couldn’t wait for what still awaited you. Ever since she had caught you, you knew that as long as you had the blonde in your arms, you need not fret about life too much.

All that was really left was to ensure that the both of you would one day stand in black and white under a clear sky, surrounded by your friends and family, celebrating a life you’d never thought you’d have.

#woso imagine #woso x reader #leah williamson imagine #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson #woso fanfics #black & white #fluff #my writing #fic #iptily

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shoyoist · 1 year

Text

— 𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐎 𝐆𝐎𝐙𝐀𝐈𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐔 !! : baji keisuke.

content: fem!reader. college au. strangers to friends to lovers trope. baji is a delinquent, still. reader is implied to be rich and rather innocent. ~ fingering. spit. manhandling, slight breeding kink, mating press, raw sex, rough sex, praise.

word count: 4.6k

⠀⠀⠀⠀— . ｡˚ ♡ what happens when the sweet lil honors student decides to be nice and help the failing college student/delinquent out?

when baji makes it into college, it's by the slimmest fucking chance. he barely makes it. but baji's always been one to follow through with what he's set his eyes on doing — so by no means is he going to flunk out of college once he's got in.

he's struggling, though, and it's no help that most of the other students are a little wary of him. there’s nobody around that’s willing to lend him a hand. but that’s warranted, you suppose.

he is after all, a delinquent with a ton of street cred on his back, and has made a name for having a complete lack of hesitation to use his fists to make his way out of any given situation.

he looks it, too — and rumors are always strengthened by appearances.

he's got those wild, sharp eyes and that whetted smile, and he's a big guy. muscles showing through the thin shirts he shows up to classes in, his toned thighs and calves on display at the behest of the tight leather pants he always wears.

the chains and rings he wears, and the booming motorcycle he rides just makes his deadly image more refined — not to mention the fact that he's already picked more than a couple of fights on campus his first semester.

but you see how he tries so hard in class.

you've never spoken to baji keisuke in your life before — but today is the start of the fourth week in a row that you've walked into the library after class, to see baji sitting at one of the tables by himself, surrounded by books as he stares at a printed question sheet with a scowl on his face.

as an honors student, a soft spoken girl that takes her father's car to school every day, and dresses in pastels and skirts, you're the opposite of baji keisuke in every way. you're nervous, and unsure if he'd even listen to you, or just laugh your words off and render you unable to ever meet his eyes again.

but you do it anyway. you walk up to him where he's sitting at his usual table, and clear your throat. "baji?"

and when he looks up, features so sharp and rugged, the pen he's twirling in his hands so tiny compared to his large palm and fingers, your breath catches in your throat — but you speak up anyway. "hi. i'm from your class?" you say, giving him a smile.

"whaddya want?" he asks, after almost a full minute of looking you up and down. you feel nearly insecure as you stand there and wait, wondering if he doesn't like the look of your plaid sweater, your cute boots or your skirt.

you open your mouth to answer him, but he cuts you off — "you wanna hop on my dick or somethin'? because if so, scram."

"no!" you blurt out, feeling your face heat up in an instant. he raises a thick, questioning eyebrow at you then, and you stutter, trying to form your sentences back on your tongue after his embarrassing accusation. "i— i just wanted to know if you'd like some help!"

"huh?" baji grunts, putting his pen down. "what's that mean?"

"with your work!" you say, gesturing to all the books laid out on the table. "you know? i've seen you here a lot recently, working on your homework and stuff. so i just wanted to ask if you wanted some help."

"with my studies?" he asks, like he's still unsure. and when you nod, you see his eyes slowly light up — because even baji knows you’re one of the smartest students. "really? ya wanna tutor me?"

"not for money or anything." you quickly affirm, in case he lands another quip about how he doesn't have money to give you. "just ... as a classmate. as a friend. we could be study partners, if you like."

"study partners, huh." he muses, resting his chin on his fist as he thinks about it. then, he gives you a grin (that automatically makes your heart flutter, because god, you can't deny it — he's hot). "sure."

he pats the chair next to his, offering you a seat, and you take it.

hence, you started on your semester long journey of being baji's study partner, making fast friends with him and finding out that he's a sweet, funny guy alongside the rough, loud personality he's got.

your curiosity on why a gangster like him would try so hard in college, or wish to attend school at all, is satiated when eventually, he tells you about his domestic dreams of building a cozy little life for himself, opening up a pet shop, perhaps expanding it into a vet clinic if he can pass his course and get licensed.

baji’s ambitions are only strange to you for the first half of your time with him. the more you get to know him, the more you realize that his rugged, untamed appearance and personality is all just who he is on the surface level.

apart from how surprisingly cute he is when he’s learning, he's so nice to you — walks with you to class, offers to drive you on his bike to this really good coffee place he knows during breaks, brings you a little gift on your birthday — and by the end of the semester, you're sure you've about fallen in love with him.

and thankfully, with your help, his grades do go up.

he scores well enough that he manages to pass and secure his spot in college for another year — and though his achievement was not much compared to your top results, he's so happy about it.

"princess," he says (because he calls you princess now) as he flops onto the couch in your bedroom (because somewhere in the midst of the semester, you've also moved your regular study spot from the library to your house). "have i thanked ya properly for all your help yet?"

"what do you mean?" you ask, perched on the edge of your bed, watching him manspread, feeling proud when he shoots a satisfied glance towards the marksheet laying on the couch beside him.

"i mean," he sighs. "i gotta thank you, right? you're savin' my life here."

"by studying with you?" you giggle, and he meets your eyes with a lazy tilt of his head, watching as you smooth your skirt out over your knees. the early winter sun that pools into the room through the window is watery — but the light catches in his bright gaze anyway, increasing the intensity of his stare. "it's okay. you've bought me enough coffee over the days to pay me back, i think."

there's a moment of tense silence, before he gets up from the couch, and walks over to you.

when he stops only a foot away from your seat on the bed, and asks, "is the door locked, princess?" you feel a shiver crawl up your spine — but you nod, assuring him that the door is locked.

and with that, he climbs onto the bed on top of you, pushing you down onto your bed.

your heart jumps, as your back hits the mattress, his hands coming down to dig into the sheets on either side of your head, as he grips them to hold his weight over you.

"can i thank you?" he rasps after a second, voice soft — hovering over you with his lips only inches away from your own. your heart picks up pace, and your pulse hammers in your ears as you fight to keep eye contact with him. as you try to think of an answer.

and well, fuck, you never thought something like this would happen, when you first took pity on the delinquent in your class, and offered to help him with his studies.

you were just being nice — but as you’d just been thinking of a moment ago, over the course of the time you've known baji, you've found out that he's got so much more to him than his delinquent’s face.

you know he’s gentle with animals, that he works so very hard to be the best he can be, and that he's a loyal friend. you know he likes peyoung yakisoba, and that he secretly reads shoujo manga. you know he prefers your red hair ties over your pink ones. you know the most important thing to him is that his mother is happy (and you know what they say. a man who's good to his mother, will be good to his wife).

you really do like him. so you nod once more, but he sees the hesitation in your eyes, so he asks again. "is this really okay?"

you blink up at him, once or twice, before gathering the courage to ask. "baj— keisuke. do you like me?"

"i do." he replies without a beat missed, gaze bright as he locks it with yours. and just those two words cause your heart to warm up so many degrees, an instant shot of delight — but you ask again. "really?"

he licks his lips, seeming a little nervous, now, as he hovers over you. "really." he says. his heat spills into you through the minute distance between your bodies, as he collects the words onto his tongue. "i fuckin' love you, princess. never thought i'd be such a sap for someone, but i am. i like you, a lot. i want you."

it's strange — because although you love him, you've never thought he'd return your feelings.

you've always thought and decided that things would end as quickly and smoothly as they'd started. that you'd help him, and he'd receive your help, and that would be that. but now, the situation's changed. in an instant.

a little voice at the back of your head wonders that hey, maybe this is just the delinquent taking his chance with the unassuming, innocent little girl in his class — but you brush the thought aside. you’re not stupid. you know baji’s a good guy.

you swallow, throat going dry as you realize what will happen once you answer. "i like you too, keisuke. in fact, i think i'm in love with you, too."

baji laughs at that, an affectionate little heh, leaving his lungs before he takes in another breath. "can i kiss you, then?"

"you can do whatever you want." you say.

and instantly, he's kissing you.

it’s almost too quick, his tongue pushing hungrily past your lips and coiling with your own, searing and needy as his hands clutch your waist, crawling under your top to feel up your skin, soft and supple under his calloused grip.

a mewl falls from your lips when his fingers brush against your tits, and he moves his hand back to that spot, giving the soft flesh a squeeze and laughing when you gasp, your body rocking under his.

your own hands lift up, somewhat unsure, to palm at his muscled chest, tugging experimentally at the hem of his shirt. "take it off," he grunts, into your mouth. "hah, never been touched like this before, have you?"

"haven't." you mumble shyly, and baji's eyes glow dully when he hears it. he yanks the top off of you, and you feel vulnerable as you squirm on your bed, wearing nothing but your skirt and panties as he ravishes you with his eyes. "yeah? gonna show ya how good lil' things like you should be treated, then." he says, placing a hand on your thigh and feeling how you shiver at the touch.

he doesn't move it before you pull his t-shirt off for him, coaxing you to go ahead and do it, and allowing you to run your eyes over his muscled torso for a bit. then, his hand inches up your thigh as he kisses you again, fingers so large and thick as he makes his way between your legs. "so pretty f'me."

"mm," your face burns again, the same way it had the first time you ever spoke to him, and he'd asked you that embarrassing fucking question — but it's funny, since what he said is now about to come true. in a way. "y—you, too."

"aww, princess thinks i'm pretty?" he coos, and laughs harder when you cover your face with your hands, unable to meet his eyes as he teases you. "fuck, you're so cute. lettin' the gangster boy fuck you after you help him pass in school, eh?"

"i— this wasn't my intention." you whine, but baji cuts you off by pressing a thumb against your clothed clit — and it's even more embarrassing when your body automatically jolts, thighs closing around his arm as you flinch in reaction to the sudden stimulation. "yeah, but ya like how it's goin', mhm?" he grins, showing off those canines again, and fuck.

"i do," you breathe, as he keeps his thumb over your clit, rubbing little circles into it and making it throb. it's hard to focus when he's doing it, but then he leans in for more kisses, and you've never felt such sweet, yet rough warmth before in your life.

"i know you do." he says it into your mouth, before sliding your panties aside and easing a finger into your cunt. it feels hot, delicious even with just one damn finger, and you moan, the sensation so unexpectedly good. "see? all fuckin' wet 'n i didn't even do much yet."

"please," you kiss him again, curling your hands around his face. "want it already."

"tch, patience, baby." he clicks his tongue, letting just the one finger slide in and out of your slick pussy, and you know he's going to put two in next, and then three, stretching you out just right before he gives you his cock.

and for something you've never thought about much before, you need it so damn bad. with baji towering over you, body so muscled and toned and hands so hot and good, mouth so skilled at showering you with both kisses and praise, you need him like never before.

the chain on his ripped jeans jingles as he pushes his knee between your legs, opening them wider, before he whispers, just like you’d guessed, that he’s going to give you another finger. his free hand grips your fluffy blanket harder, putting more of his weight onto the mattress and making it creak a little. “move up a little, princess. give me some more room.”

so you get further back onto the bed, and he climbs on after you, letting his pants join his t-shirt on the side of the bed, with your own top — the bold black and grey colours so starkly contrasting your bedsheets as he casts it all aside.

“ya hear this pussy singin’ for me?” he chuckles, and the way your cunt gushes harder when he slips a third finger in is so good to him, your face flushing with humiliation, he can’t bother prepping you any further before he gives you his cock.

“she’s beggin’ to have me.” he taunts, loving the way you’re getting so shy and embarrassed, no matter what he does or says. “you do some begging, too, won’t ya? let me hear you.”

and you steel yourself, feeling so full with just his fingers in you, forcing your moans and gasps to be quieter as he curls them in and finds your sweet spots so easily. “want your cock, keisuke. please. need to be filled all up.” he stares at you, doe eyes and swollen lips so pretty as you’re spread out under him, and with a whispered fuck, he pulls his drooling cock out from where it’s been straining under his boxers this whole time.

“see that, princess?” he sighs, relief washing over him as he grips the thick length, allowing himself a few pumps with his fist. “this cock? ‘s all yours.”

baji’s fucking huge — as he grabs your wrist and guides your hand to touch him, you feel the hot, stiff length of him up, and you really don’t know how you’re going to take it.

but you will — oh, god, you will, because you haven’t even felt him yet but you know he’s going to send you to heaven with just his cock.

“want it,” you plead. “I’ll take it for you. if it’s all mine, then give it to me. please.”

“shit,” he groans, when you run your fingers softly down his cock and back up, smearing the precum collecting at his tip onto your fingers as you go. “for someone that hasn’t done any of this, you’re fuckin’ good with your words.”

“‘m a smart girl,” you give him a smile, and his lips are tugged into yet another grin when he sees it. “smart girls know what to say.”

“yeah, yeah you fuckin’ do.” he assures you, before he tugs the panties off you and throws them onto the floor behind, grabbing you by the back of your thighs and pushing them up, your skirt splaying out on your stomach as he folds you in half and reveals your glistening pussy to him.

“let’s keep this skirt on, yeah?” he asks, eyes on your cunt, on your little hole that he’s about to fill right up. “y’look pretty with it on.”

“anything.” you beg, eyes fluttering shut before you open them again, watching as baji’s hair falls in curtains around his face, his brows scrunching together as he frowns in focus, lining his cock up with your cunt. “just want you to fuck me.”

“alright, alright, baby.” he grunts, voice going heavier, as he finally pushes his cock in. first, it’s just the head — and you think the stretch is manageable, that you can take him well enough.

but then he rolls his hips, forces your cunt open and makes you take all of him in, and fuck.

“keisuke! no— no, not so much at once!” you cry, and he’s barely able to answer, with the way your pussy sucks him in so well despite your protest, warm and wet and so god damn tight.

“you’re fine,” he stutters, nails digging harshly into the plush skin of your thighs as he pushes himself balls deep into you, bending you further so your knees are pressed against your chest. “you’re just fine, princess, fuck. look at ya. pussy so pretty all stuffed.”

he stays still for a moment, allowing you to adjust to his size, razor eyes going soft and almost dreamy as he feels your walls cling to him, so deliciously hot. when he nudges his tip to your cervix, you flutter around him, and he hisses, precum drooling into you furiously.

you whimper as the pain dissipates and blooms into saccharine pleasure, the rough grip he’s got on you and the thickness of his cock in your little cunt, together with the praise he’s showering you with — it’s enough to make you cum in almost one go.

“you got this,” he pants, pulling out just a little before he pushes in again, the wavy tousles of his hair bouncing lightly with every move. “your pussy’s fine.”

you open your mouth to reply, but no sound comes out, the moan catching in your throat and your eyes rolling back into your head as he finally starts moving. the messy squelching of your cunt with his thrusts would embarrass you, if he weren’t throwing stars into your vision with each slap of his pelvis against your clit. “k—keisuke!”

“shhh,” he exhales, gritting his teeth as he steadily increases his pace, building his way up to his own high. you’ll cum hard enough, even if he doesn’t try too hard, he knows — his cock is big, he knows how to fuck good, and you’re an inexperienced little thing.

a sweet, beautiful, inexperienced little thing.

he watches keenly, biting his lip as he goes back and forth, watching your pretty face, eyes wild with pleasure as you watch how his length sinks into you, and then out, and then back in again.

“c-can i,” he groans, waiting for you to look up and meet his eyes before he continues. “go faster, princess?”

“mhm!” you cry without hesitation despite yourself, so eager to please — so needy to have more, more, more.

and god, he's going to cum, he can feel it as he takes his pace even further — your little pussy's just too tight, too hot 'n wet, it's enough to send a man straight to seventh fucking heaven.

he knows already that you'll be fine even if he gets a little rougher than intended — he sees how your eyes are rolling back, how your sweet lips are stretching into a dopey, open-mouthed smile with each hard hit of his cock at your cervix.

you want it, want it all — you're innocent and pure but god you're a devilish little thing at heart.

he'd treat you nicely, be gentle and take things slow like how he'd planned to do at the start, but you want it so bad, he wants it so bad, and there's just no stopping it.

“open that mouth wider for me baby,” he rasps, and you do it instantly, making him laugh as he gathers a ball of saliva on his tongue and spits it out, watching with a heavy throb of his cock as it lands right on your cute, pink lil tongue. “swallow f'me? hah, atta girl~”

and with that, he gives you the first mean thrust of his cock into your cunt — the squelch of your cunt is loud, only second to your moan and third to the grunt baji can't help but let out, when he feels just how tight your pussy is gripping him.

“relax, princess,” he huffs, the muscled panes of his chest pressing against your tits as he buries himself as far inside you as he can go, before pulling back out and going back in again — filling your lovely little room with the lewdest sounds—

the slap-slap-slap of skin against skin, your fucked out whines with each roll of his hips, and the messy sounds of your pussy along with the breathy groans he's spilling into your ear; it's so, so fucking good.

you're stuffed, and as baji whispers hoarsely with his lips against your cheek that he's gonna cum, you moan again, telling him you're gonna cum too, and you don't know what you're begging for anymore but you beg, “please, please, please, please— mmph!”

and he's kissing you again, muscled body trapping you in place as he pounds into you relentlessly, now in short quick thrusts that offer your sweet, gummy spots another kind of kiss after kiss with his fat tip.

“let me cum in you, princess? can't — can't fuckin' pull out, 's too good,” he groans into your mouth, and fuck, you've never felt this good and this loved and this full before in your entire damn life.

“inside, kei, inside.” you agree, voice all high and breathless, your words falling right onto his tongue as they tangle together when he deepens the kiss. “want your cum in me, kei, please.”

and it's not the hug of your velvet walls around his cock, or the plush, warm feel of your pretty body under his, or the claw of your fingers at his back and his arms that undo him—

but it's the way your voice calls out his name so cutely, saying kei, as you ask him to breed you full, that makes him cum.

the band in his lower stomach tightens and then snaps — and with a low, ravenous growl into your mouth, he cums. “f—fuck.”

his cum is hot, thick, filling your pussy with white and coating his cock in a milky film as he keeps thrusting in and out of you, refusing to slow down even as your own orgasm washes over you and your tiny little cunt clenches even tighter around him, making it almost impossible for him to move.

“mmm, kei! fuck, cumming, fuck, fuck, so good!” you babble, tongue lolling out from your mouth that's parted in your effort to catch your breath, and he'd laugh, chide your language, but you feel so good he's been rendered speechless.

his own mouth is open in silent curses, breath catching in his throat as he fucks his cum deep into you, feeling how your pussy flutters obediently, eating it all right up.

he listens to your cries of pleasure, head falling onto your chest, his cheek squished against your tits as he breathes you in, basking in the hot bliss you're giving him as he smacks his hips into yours sloppily, such a wet mess forming between your bodies — your skirt is soaked.

“fuck, princess, i love ya,” he hisses, as you milk him through. “this pussy's mine and only mine, alright?”

“mhm,” you nod, and he grins, vision cloudy as he looks down at your pretty face. “all yours, kei.”

“can't take that back after ya said it, alright?” he breathes out, hot over your chest. “tell me ya love me, baby.”

“i love you,” you gasp, as he slows down, bringing his hips to a stop against yours and letting go of your thighs so you can tangle them around his waist again. “i love you so, so much, kei, you don't know.”

“hey,” he chuckles, getting pulled into you as he tries to give you a peck on the cheek. “i love you so much, m'kay?”

“no, i love you more.” you pout, and he nips at your bottom lip, teasing the tender flesh with his sharp teeth. “this ain't a competition, princess. i love you the most.”

“mmm,” you huff, knowing that you both should really get up and clean things up, if you're done — but he feels so nice, so warm and heavy and comforting on top of you, and you want to stay like this forever. “sure. i'll let that go, for now.”

baji only cackles fondly at that, giving your swollen lips a kiss and then another on your teary cheek, before laying back with a satiated sigh. “so what are we now? still just friends? study partners, even though you've effectively hopped on my dick now?”

you feel your face get hot at his words, giving his shoulder a gentle slap as you pout again. “no, what you are now is mine. all mine.”

and there's a little pause, before he lets out another chuckle. “bloody hell, you really do fuckin' know what to say.”

“of course.” you smile. “anyway, study sesh at your place tomorrow? same time?”

“hah, what fucking study sesh when the semester just closed, hm?” he grins, and your eyes twinkle as you reply — “mmm, i don't know. a study sesh like the one we just had, maybe.”

and his grin widens, canines flashing as he laughs. “can't say no to that, princess — you're on fire. and by the way, you're mine, too.”

“mhm.” you reach up, tangle your fingers in the thick, dark locks of his hair and pull him in for yet another kiss, smiling at how he shuts his eyes so cutely just before your lips meet. “i know ♡♡ .”

#₊˚ପ⊹ REKHA™.#₊˚ପ⊹ NYCHTA.#baji smut #baji keisuke smut #baji x reader #baji keisuke x reader #tokyo revengers smut #tokyo revengers x reader #tr smut #tr x reader #baji headcanons #baji drabbles #baji x you #baji x y/n #baji fluff #tokyo revengers drabbles #tokyo revengers headcanons

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blues824 · 1 year

Note

Hello! I see requests are open on your blog and want to give this one a try. May I request HCs of Vil Schöenheit, Idia Shroud, and Malleus Draconia with a partner [S/O] (Romantic) [Gender Neutral] who actually has powers like Dr. Strange? A powerful Eldritch Magic user who not only can cast difficult spells but also has magical artifacts and items like the Sling Ring used to open portals in other parts of the universe. Can they also somehow have possession of the Eye of Agamotto?

Imagine they’re powerful enough to stop an Overblot. The [Reader] casts a Mirror Dimension around themselves and the Overblotted victim to prevent others from harm’s way. Everyone would be safe outside of the spell.

- @sanctum-of-ramshackle

I loved Dr. Strange. I also loved the Mirror Dimension part… got me high but without the drugs.

Don’t do drugs, kids. But if you do, make sure you get them for a reasonable price.

Vil Schoenheit

He hasn’t seen magic quite like the one you use. He knows that you have no natural affinity towards this sorcery, so he questions how you were able to harness it. You tell him that you had to go all the way to Kamar-Taj in Nepal to see if you could get your steady hands back.

He got to see it up close when he overblotted. In fact, you cast a spell on him. The one that brought him to the Mirror Dimension. He looked around and saw everything shift on your whim. He had never seen anything like that in Twisted Wonderland.

He also had never seen someone’s magic cause golden rings to appear around their hands or arms while using it. He knew it was some sort of ancient magic because of the old runes. Since you had put a lot of time into learning it, you easily overtook him. He looked around and released a sigh of relief when he heard that no one was injured due to your spell.

He sees you hopping in and out of dimensions a lot. He notices that there’s a certain ring on your hand when you do as well. He asks you about it as he’s treating your skin and you say that it allows you to open other dimensions. That meant you could easily go home, but didn’t choose to.

At the same time, he asked you about the peculiar necklace you wear. It’s nothing fashionable, and he has quite the distaste for it, actually. You had to explain the Infinity Stones and said that the Eye of Agamotto housed one of these precious stones: the Time Stone. You used your magic to open the eye and showed him the luminous rock.

He asked what would happen if someone were to attain all of them. You warned him that if someone were to do that, that could mean the end of every dimension and universe he could ever fathom. He’s shocked that tiny stones had the power to end the timeline, but you know more about this than he does.

Idia Shroud

Omg! It’s exactly like the movie Monsieur Weird! It’s so strange (get it?) that you had the same exact magic. You tell him about your journey in Nepal just to train under the Ancient One and learn to harness the magic that was surrounding you all this time.

When he overblots, he experiences the other end of the magic. He looks around as you cast the spell to bring you to the Mirror Dimension and he sees everyone disappear except you. You used his discontortedness to your advantage and easily took him down.

He notices that whenever you use your magic, it causes big disks to circle around your arms and wrists. He tries to research the language, but since Eldritch Magic didn’t exist in this world he came up with nothing.

Once, he got the courage to ask you about your ring as you had to take it off to help upgrade Ortho. You said that it allowed you to open dimensions such as the Mirror one. You told him that it would be rather easy for you to go home, but this dimension was a lot of fun.

He also noticed the eyeball you wear around your neck. He thought it was a piece of some costume until he noticed once where you opened it and let out a sigh of relief. He stares at it until you catch him, and you explain that it housed the Time Stone. He then finished what you were going to say about the Infinity Stones.

He guessed that it would be the end of life itself if someone obtained all of them and you nodded. You told him how imperative it was that you protected the stone with your very life. He made a vow that any opponent would have to go through him and his brother first before anything ever got to you.

Malleus Draconia

Yet another one who was intrigued by your unique magic, and I mean that in that he has never seen it before. No one in the Valley of Thorns uses this magic, and he hasn’t seen anyone at NRC using it either. Plus, he recognizes the runes.

When Leona overblots, Malleus swears that he just saw you and the Prince of the Sunset Savannah facing off each other. One second you were gone, the next you were back and the overblot victim was back to normal.

He immediately asked you about it, and you told him that you took Leona to the Mirror Dimension so that no one else would be harmed. He admired your thoughtfulness and concern for others while simultaneously taking down an overblot.

He’s definitely noticed that certain ring of yours that you always have when opening a portal. He stared at it a few times, and you eventually caught on and explained that you obtained it in Kamar-Taj, Nepal back in your world and that it allowed you to open dimensions.

He also asked about what exactly the eye was. He has read many books, but he’s never heard of the Eye of Agamotto. You explain that the eye itself wasn’t magical, but rather the stone inside. There were 5 other Infinity Stones, and you protected the 6th.

You went on to say that someone who had all the Infinity Stones would be more powerful than the most powerful mage Twisted Wonderland had. In fact, they would seem like a small child’s toy compared to the Stone User. He was shocked at hearing this, and he made sure to let you know that you would never face any opponent without them getting through him first.

#disney twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland #disney twst #twst x reader #twst vil schoenheit #twst vil #vil schoenheit x reader #vil x reader #vil schoenheit #idia shroud x reader #twst idia #idia shroud #idia x reader #twst malleus #malleus draconia x reader #malleus draconia #malleus x reader

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celerydays · 9 months

Note

could you walk us through what notebooks & journals & pens /etc you use - they look so good!

I would be SO happy to, you have no idea!!

Alright, let's fucking GOOOO~

Starting off with my current "workhorse" pens - I have like *checks notes* 36 fountain pens and a bit too many inked up atm, but these are just the ones I'm currently reaching for or have inked up more often than not:

TWSBI Go (F): Kinda ugly! But also kinda cute! It's cheap and works great (I friggin love TWSBI pens tbh) and it has a little hole on the cap where you can attach a lanyard or charms, like I did! Makes it cuter imo and it's kind of my emotional support pen these days.

Opus88 Pocket (EF): This 2022 edition has a little Moon tarot design on the cap so it's pretty much the pen I use exclusively for my witchy/tarot practice journals! A lil bummed the cap doesn't post, especially since its a shorter pocket-sized pen, but not a deal breaker and I still love it.

Pilot Custom 823 (F): My grail pen that I've literally coveted for years and just recently acquired at the DC Pen Show this weekend! It's only been a day but I think it could potentially become my favorite pen. Ever.

Pilot Prera (CM): This is my third Prera lol. I just think they're great and really underrated pens! Also a recent acquisition from the DC Pen Show and this cursive M nib is suuuuper fun to write with.

Pilot Vanishing Point (EF): My favorite pen for planning! Super fine-tipped for writing task lists and schedules and love that it's so convenient/quick-draw with the click mechanism.

(I'm totally a Pilot pen ho, can you tell? asdjflaglsg)

Journals/Planners/Notebooks under cut–

Sterling Ink B6 Common Planner: For a good chunk of this year, I was in this planner because I honestly love the size and all the layouts. Super practical and flexible as a system. 10/10 would go back. I've used it to plan, as a reading journal, as a tarot log...

But I get the itch to move around so it's been sitting a little unused since like June, oop.

Leuchtturm A6: I started craving something tiny and minimal so I've been bullet journaling in this pocket notebook for the last month or two and I'm really enjoying it!

Standard-sized Tomoe River Paper notebook: This is pretty consistent in that I don't change up the system itself, but I'm in and out of it for memory keeping/scrapbook journaling! It's almost always a Tomoe River paper notebook of SOME kind that I usually buy in A5 size to go to FedEx and get it cut down to standard. Though I'm thinking of getting a blank Midori MD A5 to have cut down next time - I've been liking the freedom of blank pages for journaling instead of anything lined or gridded.

I really need to catch up with it tbh, but I love sitting in an explosion of printed photos, stickers, and washi and going ham with the pages.

(I do have a flip through of my January-March 2022 pages on YouTube)

Midori MD Cotton B6 Slim: I also have this sketchbook that sorta turned into a visual sketch diary of sorts. I fell off a while ago but want to get back into it because it's super fun to work in and to look back on!

Wide-sized Cosmo Air Light notebook & A5 Filofax Malden: These are my tarot/witchy journals. Grimoires I guess? One is for journaling and all my messier notes while the other is more for reference and ease of organization.

A5 Leuchtturm: I didn't know if I should include this guy, but I've been writing it in a lot recently so I guess I will lol. This is like truuuly a miscellaneous™ notebook.

I got this A5 notebook back in 2017 to use as my very first bullet journal, then found out that this size is personally waaaay too big for me to use as a bullet journal so I hopped off of it pretty quick. It now sits on my desk because since it's mostly blank I'll just pick it up to use it to write literally A N Y T H I N G.

Most recently, I wrote like 5 pages in one night on notes for a fanfiction piece I was working on (I'm not a writer, this fic is never gonna see the light of day by anyone but me lololol. Hyperfixation is so wild; I've put 80k+ words within just 10 days into it so far and it's been hella therapeutic.)

That's all, I think!?

It's funny because I actually have a NEW notebook arriving tomorrow that I'm going to try out as a bujo/commonplace/omni journal of sorts?? I might write an update post after I've set that up and see how I like it <3

#journal #journaling #bullet journal #memory keeping #notebooks #fountain pen #grimoire #sketchbook #commonplace book #tarot journal #cel journals #anon #ask #celerydays

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vintagepresley · 1 year

Text

The Doctor Will See You Now

Pairing: John Carpenter x Reader

Word Count: 3,237

Warnings: SMUTSMUTSMUT 18+ Just some good ol’ unprotected sex, tiny bit fingering, use of the word whore, breeding kink. Implied age gap.

Authors Notes: I don’t even know what to say about this. But it was inspired by those wonderful anon messages. Thank you because it truly gave me the motivation to write something. I hope you enjoy besties.

Part Two Part Three

“Are you a good girl?”

Dr. John Carpenter had been your doctor for quite some time now and each visit your crush on him grew more and more, that you started making up illnesses and reasons to visit his office. At first he was naive to your little game until he began to realize what was actually going on. He was no saint and had a bit of a wandering eye when it came to some of the young women that came through his office and you were one of them. So, when he noticed you in his office more than usual he decided to play your little games and he’d bring you back to one of the rooms and exam where you said it hurt. He’d take full advantage to touch you a little longer than he should have when he’d do his exams. The touch of his big hands touching various parts of your body made you feel the naughtiest things and one time you actually let out a soft moan, which you were so embarrassed about. But Dr. Carpenter loved it. There was an unspoken tension between the two of you. He was fully aware you were nearly half his age, but he didn’t care. This was like foreplay for the two of you and when it was all over, he’d see you on your way out with a clean bill of health. You’d giggle and flash him a cute smile as you said your goodbyes. He’d be left watching you walk away with a pleasing grin playing on his lips.

A few days had gone by and since your last encounter with the doctor you couldn’t stop thinking about him and the way his hands felt all over you. You desperately needed to see him again and today you wanted things to take a step further beyond the cute foreplay. You were sporting a rather more daring look today, wearing a powder pink mini skirt with a white blouse that you had left two buttons at the top undone to show off a bit of your cleavage and paired it with some white kitten heels. You happily made your way to Dr. Carpenter’s office. Some of the nurses had noticed how many times a week you had come into the office and they assumed you must have been a very sick girl if you constantly had the doctor’s office. Dr. Carpenter never let anyone suspect that anything was going on when he’d take you back to the exam room. You were both always so careful even though there was nothing but some innocent touching and some light kissing going on behind those closed doors. You held your hands against your stomach groaning in pain hoping the nurse would see that it was urgent that you see the doctor. The nurse hopped out of her seat and over to help you and she called out to one of the other nurses to hurry and get the doctor. “What’s the matter, sweetheart?” the nurse said kindly.

“I.. I have a terrible pain in my stomach.” you groaned softly as the lie left your lips. Dr. Carpenter came rushing out of the office thinking they were an actual patient in need and when he saw you he smirked to himself and for a moment his teeth grazed his bottom lip as he noticed your outfit. He cleared his throat as he approached you.

“I’ll take it from here, nurse. Thank you.” he said firmly. You glanced up to see the handsome doctor before you dressed in a dark blue dress shirt and white slacks. The nurse handed you over to the doctor and the moment you felt his grasp on you, your body tingled from his very touch. “Let’s get ya back to the exam room, honey. What seems to be the problem?” his voice rang out as he walked you back to the room with him trying to be professional as possible in front of everyone. The moment you two got into the room and that door closed behind you both you both shared a smirk with one another. Your big doe eyes stared up at him, giggling softly as you watched his eyes examining your outfit. “You’re gonna get me into some trouble, honey.” he hummed.

“But doctor, I really am in pain..” you purred as you walked over to the exam table and plopped yourself down on it and he followed behind you shaking his head with a smirk.

“Mm, where does the pain seem to be today?” he responded as he watched the way your mini skirt rose as you sat down. He tried to keep his composure. You captured your bottom lip between your teeth as you stared up at him innocently, twirling your fingers between strands of your hair.

“Um.. The pain.. It’s.. It’s..” You were too embarrassed to say out loud. So you looked down and then back up at him hoping he’d catch on to what you were trying to tell him. He furrowed his brow a bit as he watched you. But he still wasn’t picking up what you were putting down and you cleared your throat and pointed down to your skirt. “The pain is down there, doctor.. I think it really needs to be looked at..” you hummed as a smirk formed on your lips and you slowly parted your legs. You watched as his expression softened and he gazed down at your parted legs and he swallowed harshly as he stared between your thighs. He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about it when he was alone with his thoughts and you’d start creeping into his head. The thought of fucking you on his examination table like the little slut you were. “Doctor?” you said softly. He inhaled sharply as you shook him out of his dirty thoughts.

He cleared his throat. “Well.. Uh.. What does the pain feel like, honey?” he asked knowing he would regret that question as his eyes wandered back down to your parted legs. You parted your legs further as you noticed him staring and the further you spread them open the more your skirt lifted and your white panties peeking through just enough for him to see them.

“It’s throbbing doctor.” you said in an airy tone.

“Oh? D-Does this throbbin’ sensation happen often?” he responded with a hum.

“Oh yes, quite often.. I can’t seem to make it stop..” you cooed. You watched as he licked his lips and his breathing grew a bit heavy as he just stared at the teasing glimpse of your panties. “Will look at it, Dr. Carpenter?” you asked innocently.

He could hardly focus with the thought of seeing your pussy on his mind and he cleared his throat once more and nodded at your words. “Yes, honey. I’ll have a look and see what the problem is.” he said in almost a whisper. He walked over to grab you a hospital gown and handed it to you. “Get undressed for me and put this on and I’ll be right back.” he said firmly. You nodded at his words, chewing at the inside of your cheek nervously as you watched him make his way out of the room. You hopped off the table, stripped your clothes off and slipped on the hospital gown leaving the back loosely tied as you sat back on the cold table patiently waiting for him to come back into the room. Dr. Carpenter had never done anything like this with any of the other girls that he had flirted with from time to time. He was nervous because he knew exactly where this was going. He didn’t want to get caught fucking his patient. But he knew no matter how much he wanted to resist that he wouldn’t be able to resist. He gave it another minute before he came waltzing back into the room and locking the door behind him. You both stared at one another for a moment knowing what was going to transpiry in this very room.

Dr. Carpenter slowly walked over to you and he cupped your face in his hands and he leaned down to kiss your lips softly and you felt like you were floating the moment your lips touched and you kissed him back with such desperation until he pulled back. He decided to keep up the little game the both of you were playing. “Lie back for me, honey.” he mumbled. You nodded in response to him and you slowly and carefully laid back against the cold metal table and bent your legs as you spread them open. You took a deep breath feeling your face grow hot because he was now staring at your pussy and had you in a very vulnerable position. You gasped softly when you felt him spread your legs open wider for him, Dr. Carpenter bit his bottom lip at the sight of your beautiful pussy and he stared at it examining every inch and every crevice. “Scoot closer to me, darlin’. I ain’t gonna bite ya.” he said with a smirk. You slowly inched yourself closer toward him. You stared down at him to see him so mesmerized with your pussy. The very sight of him staring at it turned you on, that you could feel yourself becoming wet in that moment. You felt so embarrassed that you started to blush. He watched as your cunt dripped in your sweet nectar and he could feel his pants getting tight from the semi you had given him.

“Now, honey, I’m gonna touch ya and you tell me where the pain is.” he said with a smirk.

“Yes, doctor.” you responded obediently, biting your lip with anticipation of his touch.

You felt the warmth of his hands grasp your thighs and they moved up and down slowly that it brought a shiver down your spine. You caught your breath in your throat as you felt his hands between your thighs now tracing light circles against your soft supple skin. His touch was driving you mad and causing the heat between your legs to become even wetter by the minute that you couldn’t help but let a soft whine escape your lips. “Does it hurt here, baby?” he mumbled between bated breaths. You shook your head at his words, wanting and needing him to move his hand down further to where it needed his attention the most. He smirked and he guided his hand closer toward your aching pussy and a loud gasp escaped your lips when you felt his thumb run along the wet folds of your pussy, brushing teasingly against your clit that your body jolted at the feeling and a soft moan escaping you. “Hm.. I think I’ve found where that throbbin’ was comin’ from, honey.” he hummed.

“Y-You found the exact spot.. Doctor…” you said shakily as you tried to compose yourself.

Before you could even form another sentence the pad of his thumb parted your soaked pussy lips and delicately began to rub your clit. He worked the sensitive bud in slow circles as he kept his touch light. Your eyes rolled back and you inhaled deeply before exhaling sharply and a whimper soon followed. Dr. Carpenter rubbed his other hand soothingly along your right thigh. “I know exactly what ya need to cure this pesky throbbin’ of yours..” the doctor said under his breath. Your ears were ringing and your face felt hot from the sensation you were feeling between your legs as he pressed his thumb harder against your clit and his movements a bit faster and now a string of moans were leaving your lips softly. You knew you had to be quiet because anyone could hear what was going on. But there were no promises that you’d be quiet for long. The more he rubbed your clit the wetter you became and he watched as his thumb was completely covered in your slick and dripping down onto his hand. You suddenly felt his thumb circling around your tight hole and then two of his fingers circled around it until he slowly pushed them inside of you and you let out a crying whimpering. “Are you a good girl? You've been with a lot of men?” he uttered softly as he slipped his fingers out of your wet cunt.

“I-I’m a good girl.. No.. I’ve only had one boyfriend..” you said shakily as your eyes followed the doctor as he stood up from his chair and towered above you.

He smirked. “This pussy of yours belongs to me now.” he hummed as he unlatched the buckle of his belt and slowly began to unbutton his slacks. “Do ya want babies, Y/N?” he asked curiously as he tugged his pants down and cock sprang out fully erect. You chewed on your bottom lip nervously as your eyes widened at the sight of his erection. Then you glanced back up at him to answer his question.

“Y-Yes.. Of course.” you responded. One of his hands reached up to cup your face and his fingertips caressed your cheek slowly. He smirked hearing all he needed and he grasped your hospital gown in his hand and he yanked it off you and tossed it to the floor and the room was so cold that your nipples grew hard from the harsh air as you laid there naked and exposed for the handsome doctor. He grabbed your thighs and tugged you forward wrapping them around his waist and his big erect cock forced its way inside of your tight cunt. You cried out in soft whimpers and moans. He didn’t even give you a chance to adjust to him before he started thrusting inside of you until he completely bottomed out inside of you. Your eyes rolled back and your back arched against the metal table feeling his cock so deep inside of you, penetrating your tight walls and forcing them open just for him as if your pussy was made for his cock. His strong hands grabbed a hold of your hips as he started slamming his cock inside of you at a steady pace, his groans leaving him long and low.

“Goddamn.. Such a tight fuckin’ pussy..” he grunted as his cock wrecked you with each swift hard thrust he made. Your hands gripped tight onto the metal table as your body bounced with each of his movements and you moaned loudly forgetting that others could possibly hear, but you no longer cared and neither did he as he groaned and grunted louder as your bodies moved in unison together. You whimpered his name on your pouty lips each word coming out more sultry and nearly pornographic from the sounds that followed each word. You suddenly felt empty when he pulled out of you without warning and grabbed you and forced you around onto all fours and you felt him climb up onto the table behind you, his wet cock slapping against your ass and he guided his cock back inside of your warm wet pussy and he tilted his head back as he moaned with pleasure feeling his cock sink back into you. You nearly squealed, feeling his cock slip deep inside of you again.

“Oh, doctor..” you moaned.

You weren’t able to form any kind of sentence as he fucked you rough forcing your face to rest against the cold examining table as he took complete control of your ever move as his hands grasped a handful of your ass, the sound of both of your pleasuring sounds and his hips slapping against your ass filled the quiet echoey room. “Ah fuck.. This pussy feels so damn good ‘round my cock. Gonna make me put a damn baby in ya, honey. Would ya like that? Hm? Have me fuckin’ breed ya like a good whore.” he said between soft groans.

“Yes! P-Please.. I’m yours!” You cried as his cock slammed against your walls stretching your sore cunt wide open. He was going to make sure you knew exactly who owned your pussy now. You belonged to him now. Completely. He was going to make sure you wouldn’t forget it when you walk out of his office today.

He smirked at your obedience. “Atta girl.. Gonna make ya my good little breedin’ whore and give you so many damn babies..” he grunted between his heavy breaths. You didn’t know how much longer you could hold on or how much more you could take. You could feel your orgasm building in the pit of your stomach rising to the surface viciously as your body felt almost lifeless and tired. He was reaching his own orgasm as his grunting became louder and his breathing heavier that you could hardly hear his groans between them. His hips bucked and his body grew numb as he was getting closer to cumming. “Oh god, baby.. Gonna make me cum so hard inside ya..” he mewled. His cock throbbed and twitched inside of you as his hips convulsed against your ass and before he realized it he was cumming deep inside of you, painting your walls white with his warm cum that filled you up. The very feeling of that sweet warmth pushed you over the edge that your orgasm hit like freight train and you came hard all over his aching cock. You both moved slowly against one another until you rode out your high. You fell against the metal table nearly exhausted as you felt his cock slip out of your leaking cunt and he climbed off the table. Your body jolted when you felt his fingers pushing his cum back into your pussy.

He already knew that the whole office probably heard what was going on and he helped you off the table and turned you to face him and he kissed you deeply. “You should go, baby..” he mumbled. You kissed him back and let out a soft whimper against his lips, not wanting to leave him after what you just did together, but you nodded at his words. He handed you your clothes and the both of you quickly got dressed. You could feel drops of his cum seeping out of you and into your panties as the two of you composed yourselves and before you could head out the door, he grabbed your arm and pulled you toward him and he kissed you so passionately that you felt like you could’ve melted in his arms as you kissed him back deeply. He pulled back and his eyes so piercing and blue stared into your eyes. “You come and see me and I’ll check and see if I made you a mama.. If not, I’ll have to examine you thoroughly again until it takes..” he whispered. You bite your bottom lip at his words, knowing exactly what he meant.

“Yes, Dr. Carpenter.” you responded softly.

He walked you to the door and he cleared his throat when he opened it. He could see that his staff and other patients knew exactly what went on when they saw the two of you. But he ignored it. “Goodbye, Y/N.” he said sternly. You flashed him a smile and giggled softly as you went on your way, glancing back to see him staring at you as he usually did before you disappeared from his sight.

Tagging: @generoustreemystic @arianatheangel-girl @kendralavon7 @be-my-ally @prompted-wordsmith @samfangirls @airyx0x0 @astralheart21 @galaxygirl453 @prayerstopresley

#elvis presley #john carpenter #change of habit #elvis fanfic #elvis imagine #elvis smut #elvis fluff #paging dr carpenter #change of habit fanfic

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thecreelhouse · 3 days

Text

accident prone

part two - I laugh often, so, I suppose, I’m gonna be fine

Paring: Steve Harrington x fem!OC - Francesca “Frankie” Amato

Summary: Steve and Frankie really get to know one another, and the friendship blossoms quickly. So fast, Steve can’t keep up with his own feelings, even in the face of an emergency.

WC: 8.6k+

Includes: angst, hurt/comfort (like, a lot), internalized ableism, language, PTSD, revolving around Hawkins/the Upside Down, discussions of chronic pain/illness and disabilities, a teensy bit of fluff and flirting if you squint, medical emergencies, etc.

series playlist ⋮ masterlist

here, here and here - meg & dia

↻ ◁ || ▷ ↺

“I’m a wanderer now, sorrow befalls me / I laugh often so, I suppose, I’m gonna be fine”

A/N: hey there! Wow. I didn’t think this would really gain any attention— this fandom seems to hate OCs (y’all’s loss tbh), but the support I got on the last chapter, though small to some major blogs, means a fuck ton to me. I don’t want to tag everyone, but thank you to whoever sent me a kind message or pep talk after posting the first part— I really am glad this is relating to others with chronic health concerns, one way or another. Even if it relates to one person, it means more than meaningless notes. Also, may 12th is Fibromyalgia Awareness Day! So, consider this my contribution lol. As previously stated, for anyone with fibro, or without, but living with a chronic illness/condition, mental and/or physical, I am sending all my love, and this is for you <3

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

The next morning, Steve’s up early; if he can’t push past the pain, he’ll try working with it. He refuses to let the opportunity to get to know Frankie slip away.

And the opportunity for a possible job. That’s important, too. Just… not right at this very moment.

What the hell do I wear?

He glances at the pair of glasses he’s been neglecting lately, just annoyed he needs yet another tool of assistance to help him function; his vision blurs easily these days, especially with migraines. And while it’s not severe, he’s been warned to wear the glasses to prevent further deterioration of his vision.

To Steve, it’s another reminder of how broken he feels. If this was about anyone else, he wouldn’t feel that way, but when it comes to himself, the internal ableism never ends.

Just like the day before, everything hurts terribly. It’s one of those days where even certain fabrics and elastics add to the widespread ache, and it’s not like he has to dress up, but he doesn’t want to just show up in sweats, either.

At least I don’t have to wear that ugly, stiff uniform anymore.

He opts for a well-worn, loose cardigan with a pair of jeans that he ripped at the knee years ago; the tear is conveniently over his bad knee, making it easier to wear the brace he has on his bad joint days. And today, he really needs it.

Steve also needs a boost of confidence and a way to shake his nerves; the thought of seeing Frankie again and possibly getting another job have him on edge.

Too bad there’s no medical device to assist him on that one.

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Noticing the ‘CLOSED’ sign on the door of the record shop, Steve hesitates, realizing he should’ve asked Frankie about the hours; a tiny note taped to the bottom of the sign catches his eye. “Unless your name is Steve,” is scribbled in disheveled handwriting, with a small smiley face drawn at the end.

Entering the record shop, he first sees Frankie, sitting criss-crossed on the checkout counter; her cane is laid over her lap while she’s meticulously applying stickers to the aluminum. The door’s chime goes off, and her head pops up, immediately breaking into the warm smile Steve had thought about since the last time they spoke.

“Steve!” There’s an urge within her to hop off the counter and greet him with a hug, but she holds back, reminding herself that they’re barely even friends. “Hi,” She opts for a wave instead, eyes falling to the coffees, one in each hand.

He shyly nods with a sweet smile, all bundled up in layers most folks would consider unnecessary. For him and his temperature intolerance, the obnoxious amount of warmth is very necessary.

“Hi, Frankie,” He hands her coffee over to her, in all its icy, sugary sprinkled glory. She takes it, eyes crinkling as she smiles wide. Steve can’t help teasing, “Cade’s right, you really are sick for liking iced coffee in the winter.”

Her smile flips into a comical frown before snarking, “He’s never getting that damn tape now.”

“The one about dinosaurs?”

Frankie snorts just as she takes a sip of her coffee, covering her face with her sweater bundled arm.

“Robin told me you’d say something like that.”

“… So it’s not about—“

“Steve, it’s the name of a band,” She giggles, moving her arm away from her face. Steve notices the way her sleeves cascade over her hands completely; the sweater she’s in is way too big, but with that and her flowing skirt, she looks comfortable, and warm.

“Right. I knew that!” He tries playing it off with a shrug, “They’re great.”

“You’ve never listened to them before have you?”

He laughs at the knowing smirk Frankie gives him, shaking his head, “Yeah, no, not at all.” If this was high school, he’d be trying to save face right now, to look cool, pretend he knew what he was talking about. Mid-twenties Steve is able to let it roll off his back, poke fun at himself, move on.

Plus, Steve knows this interaction wouldn’t happen at all in high school. Labels and useless popularity would keep them far, far apart. He’s alright with that; Frankie definitely didn’t need someone like ‘King Steve’ and his bullshit to deal with.

“Okay. What about Jawbreaker?”

“… The candy?”

Frankie giggles, shaking her head, before running down a list of bands off the top of her head; The Cure, Joy Division, Siouxsie and the Banshees, Strawberry Switchblade, Sonic Youth, Nirvana, the list went on. Steve says most he’s heard of, but never listened to. Some, he’s heard some of their singles on the radio.

“You’re into all that… punk stuff, right?” He’s a little lost, but he’s headed in the right direction. Frankie doesn’t tease him for it, though.

“To an embarrassing degree,” She smiles, crinkling her nose, and oh, god, Steve’s not expecting the way that sets off butterflies in his stomach. “And new wave, grunge, honestly some pop, too— oh! Dolly Parton! Just her, though, can’t get into any other country otherwise. I’m a mess when it comes to music interests.” She shrugs.

He shakes his head, shrugging his jacket off before unwinding his scarf; Frankie catches on immediately, pointing to the coat rack behind the counter.

“No… it suits you.”

“Is that an insult or a compliment?”

“O- oh, no, I meant that in a— it’s a— nice way, promise!” Frankie smirks as he stumbles over his words. “So… got any recommendations on what to start with?”

“Oh, don’t you worry, Steve. I’m gonna make you a mixtape later.” No pretentious undertone can be found in her words; Frankie’s just really excited to introduce someone to music they haven’t heard. “What do you listen to, then?”

Steve sits on the stool behind the counter while Frankie still hangs out on the countertop, kicking her legs over the side now. He watches as she continues sticker-bombing her cane; it’s got quite the variety of holographic stars sprinkled about.

“Uh…” He shrugs, tugging at the edges of his sleeves before shoving them in the pockets of his cardigan. “Whatever sounds good, I guess.”

Frankie narrows her eyes at him, “C’mon, you can do better than that.”

Steve nervously laughs as a hint of red creeps across his face.

“Okay, uh… Queen, Springsteen, some of Bowie’s stuff—“

“Some?”

“I just- I can’t get into it all!” He stammers out. Frankie dramatically sighs, throwing her head back with a hand over her forehead, pretending like she’ll faint. When she levels her gaze to him again, she gives a teasing smirk, and he carries on, red in the face. “I like U2’s last album… uh, shit. What’s it called?”

“Achtung Baby?” She’s so quick to answer in a nonchalant tone, like this is common knowledge.

“Yeah! That one.”

“Oh, you’d really get along with my dad, then,” She teases, watching Steve’s expression flatten in a playful annoyance. “That’s not a bad thing! Bring it up in your next appointment— actually, don’t. He’ll talk about it for hours.”

Steve laughs, pushing his glasses up his nose with his pointer finger, “Alright, I’ll try to remember that.”

“Might want to write a reminder with the brain fog,” She quips, and it easily earns a chuckle; if anyone else tried to joke about his symptoms, he’d be bothered. To laugh it off with someone else equally as sick as him, though, is weirdly… cathartic. “Sorry, I’m distracting you. Go on.”

“Okay, don’t make fun of me, but Blondie’s got some good stuff, too.”

“Yes!” Frankie throws her hands out excitedly. Steve admires how animated she can be.

“I like a lot of other stuff,” He’s becoming more comfortable talking about this, not as afraid of rejection. Frankie didn’t give that kind of attitude off, but he second guesses himself always these days. “But it’s just singles and stuff.”

“Gimme a list one of these days, I’ll give you some recs.” She looks up from her sticker work on her cane, warmly smiling, but it falters seconds later. “Not pushing that on you, but it might— you don’t— don’t be afraid to tell me no—“

“Frankie.” Her name comes out of Steve’s mouth like the night before, a combination of reassurance and teasing. “I’d like that. I’d like that a lot.”

Dusting over her cheeks is a tint of rosy pink as her smile returns, ever so slightly. “Okay, cool.” She plucks a star sticker off the page, leaning towards Steve to stick it on his forehead. Her touch makes Steve’s heartbeat quicken, but it’s over as soon as it began. “Congrats, Steve, you’re hired.”

Brows furrowing, he doesn’t bother to remove the sticker. “What? Seriously? That was the interview?”

Frankie nods enthusiastically. “You already seemed nice, and got a good review from your best friend—“

“Seriously, what did she tell you?”

She pretends to zip her lips shut and shrugs, holding back giggles.

“I’ll get you all that boring ass paperwork later, but yeah, I’m serious.” She holds her cane out, rolling it in her hands to make sure the stars are placed the way she wants. Her tongue pokes out while she’s focused, and Steve thinks it’s the cutest thing in the world. Directing her attention back to him, she continues, “I don’t wanna work with someone I just tolerate.”

Though Steve’s flattered to find he’s more than just tolerable to her, he’s still skeptical; not of her, but how this friendship is growing so easily, so suddenly. “Frankie, we barely know each other.”

“I don’t know anyone else my age that’s disabled, and you just… you get it. I wish you didn’t, but you do. If you don’t wanna work here, no hard feelings, but I want to continue getting to know you.” Her words, her tone, even her facial expression, they’re all sincere. “If you’re up for having a new friend, that is.”

Steve nods embarrassingly fast, but he doesn’t care. “My friends get it to an extent, but I don’t have to explain shit to you, and it’s… well, I don’t want to say nice, ‘cause like you said, I wish you didn’t know what this was like, either. But it makes me feel a little less alone, I guess.” His fingers grip the edge of the stool between his legs, arms straight, as he looks away shyly. “And I- I’d like to make you feel a little less alone too— jesus, that makes me sound like a douche. You get what I mean, right?”

“I get you, Steve, don’t worry,” Frankie picks up her coffee, holding it out to Steve. It takes a few seconds, but he catches on, grabbing his own coffee to hold out to her. “To a sick friendship. Get it. Sick? ‘Cause we’re both—“

Steve knocks his cup against hers, smirking, “Yikes, I thought my humor was corny.”

“Fine, no more jokes at all, then.” She deadpans, but her expression immediately cracks, breaking into a laugh, one that scrunches her nose and crinkles the edges of her eyes. It’s contagious, pulling Steve into her fit of laughter, too. “Yeah, I got a good feeling about you, Steve.”

“Huh? Like what?”

“Oh, we’re not that far in the friendship, buddy.” She props her cane onto the floor, sliding off the counter. The proximity between her and Steve when she’s on her feet is a little too close for him to handle, breath hitching in his throat. “Gotta earn the sappy moments, man.”

With that, Frankie rounds the counter, heading towards an aisle of vinyl records. She turns back to him, “Well, you want a tour?”

Steve’s eyes widen as he scrambles off the chair, “Y- yeah, that’d be— I probably need to know where things are.” Frankie resists teasing him further, leading him around the shop.

The pair walk slowly as she points out the main sections, split into three— vinyl records, cassette tapes, and CDs.

“I still can’t get behind ‘em. They’re too flimsy for my clumsy self.” Frankie’s lips curl in a snarl as she eyes up the racks of the shiny discs, tucked away in their jewel cases.

“At least they’re not LaserDiscs,” Steve murmurs, cringing. “I hated those things.”

“Yeah, never was a fan myself,” Her brows crinkle. “They’re like frisbees.”

“But vinyl… isn’t?”

“No. And I’m not elaborating.”

“Francesca, you’re something else.”

She scoffs playfully, “Can’t believe you just called me that. You’re fired.”

“Mhm, sure.” He smirks before glancing around the shop; it’s on the smaller side, but jam-packed with nearly anything and everything music related. Beyond CDs, tapes, and records, are band shirts, Walkmans, headphones, record players, tape players and boomboxes, useless novelty items, and so on. “So, when’d you open the store?”

“Oh, I didn’t. It’s not mine, only running it for now… kinda took over when the owner had to take a sick leave.” Frankie begins leading Steve towards the back, through a worn, beaded curtain. She points to an open door, “Stockroom,” Then, to the door across the hall. “Break room.”

Steve acknowledges her directions with a nod before asking, “Oh, are they okay? Well, wait. Shit. I guess not if they’re on— my bad.”

Frankie gives him a half-smile, more for the sake of reassurance, along with an answer, “Dementia. So, uh, yeah. Probably not coming back.” A pained expression washes over Steve’s features. “The own— Mr. Fisher wanted to close the shop when his health continued declining, so I told him I’d keep it going for him. This was before the diagnosis, he just knew something was wrong and warned me he’d most likely shut down.”

“That’s… fucked.”

“Yeah. He actually lived a few floors up, now he’s in a senior living home.” She wanders into the break room, falling onto the worn couch hanging out in the heavily used space. Steve sits on the opposite side, not wanting to invade her personal space as he listens intently. “Cool dude, hired me years ago, and he was really into jazz when he was younger. Like, used to play the sax for a living. He knew nothing about punk music, but he loved asking me about it. I learned a lot about jazz from him, too.

“He was empathetic with my pain, too. The couch is back here ‘cause he felt bad I had nowhere to rest on break. Then he ended up using it more than I did.” Frankie’s a little dazed as she retells the circumstances. “I knew he’d never get better, and he knew it too, but I told him I’d love to watch over the business until he’s ready to come back. Couldn’t stand watching this place close, so… yeah. S’why I asked you.”

“I’m sorry, Frankie.” It’s all Steve can come up with, but it’s genuine, and she can tell.

“I hope it doesn’t come off like I’m telling you this so you’re guilted into being here, ‘cause if you wanna find another job, don’t feel like you have to st—“

“You do that a lot,” Steve blurts out, but it’s not mean-spirited. He stammers, “N- not that— it’s not bad— sorry—-“

“And you do that a lot,” Frankie observes bluntly. “Guess we’re kinda similar in the whole ‘overly apologetic’ department, huh?”

Steve glances at her, sighing with a hint of a sad smile. “Guess we are.” He rests his head on the back of the couch, blowing air between pursed lips as his eyes fixate on the ceiling. “Anyway, you’re not guilting me. I’m staying.” Then he sits back up, narrowing his stare at her. “Unless I’m still fired.”

She sits up, shoving her hand out towards him. He grabs it as she shakes it obnoxiously, snorting, “Steve Harrington, you’re re-hired.”

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“Fibro’s just like… a bag of jellybeans.”

Steve scoffs out a laugh, lost on Frankie’s words. “I’m sorry, what?”

At the end of the day, Frankie and Steve wound up at a diner, still caught up in the excitement of getting to know a new friend.

“Y’know, it’s always a mystery over what color and flavor you end up with ‘til you get it.” Frankie begins to explain, hands on the diner’s table; Steve’s noticed she talks with her hands, a lot. She’s always so animated, even talking about the most mundane subjects. “And you might have ‘em all, but there might be more of one flavor, or another. Fibromyalgia is just a bag of symptoms, ‘cause you don’t know what’s gonna hurt that day ‘til it does— does that make sense?”

“Oh, like, I get a lot of headaches, sometimes ocular migraines— the first few times, those freaked me out, and joint pain the most, but the other symptoms still exist, too, just not as frequently.” Steve scrunches his eyes shut with a nod, pushing his glasses back up the bridge of his nose. “Right? Or maybe I’m way off—“

“No, that’s exactly it!

“That’s actually… a really good analogy,” He tucks the comparison away in his mind, for future use. “Wait, so you also have fibromyalgia?”

Frankie’s about to answer, until the waitress brings their milkshakes and fries to the table. Her smile over something as simple as a milkshake is contagious, and Steve finds himself grinning along with her.

“Yeah, but we found out lupus was a bigger concern,” She shares casually. “Y’know, I wouldn’t wish fibro on anyone, but I’m pissed you have to deal with it.”

Steve’s face distorts into confusion. “Why d’ya say that?”

“It’s such a fucking mess of a disability. Tests come back normal, x-rays show nothing, MRIs are clear, too— shit is so infuriating. You’re living in constant pain and most people don’t believe you. Then ya’ got these fuckin’ misogynistic doctors who see it as a “woman’s disease”— yeah, it’s more prevalent in women, but men get it too, and it’s like y’all are told to just… suck it up. “Man up”. Deal with it.

“Honestly… not sure which sucks to be told more, that you’re just “hysterical and attention seeking” for being sick as a woman, or being told you’re just a “whiny baby” if you’re sick as a man.”

Steve only stares at her; Frankie feels warm under his gaze, sinking into the booth.

“Sorry, I— you’re so spot on, I have nothing to add.” Steve’s shaking his head, fidgeting with his napkin. “But I can’t get over that someone my age fucking gets it.”

Frankie sighs, relieved to hear she wasn’t overdoing it with her rambling.

“Steve, I hate that we’re both in pain, but it’s… it’s nice not having to struggle alone, for once.” She stretches her legs under the booth, resting her boots on the cushion on Steve’s side. He mirrors her, sneakers kicking up to rest next to her. She smiles, nudging his shoe with her elbow. “Copycat.”

“You really lucked out having a dad who’s a doctor,” Steve softly chuckles, and Frankie smiles, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. Immediately, he panics he might’ve said the wrong thing. “I- I don’t mean that in a bad way—“

“No, I know you didn’t. He—” Frankie looks off, eyes fixating on the bustling traffic out the window, despite the two of them being seated in the far end of the diner. She looks back to her milkshake, swirling the straw mindlessly. “He wasn’t always a doctor. He wasn’t in the medical field at all, not ‘til I got sick as a kid.”

“Wait, really?”

“Yup. He got tired of taking me to specialists for them to always say I was being overdramatic, or “Oh, she’s a girl, she might just be faking that for attention.” I guess what I was going through made him realize shit had to change for the sake of us sick folks. I don’t know how anyone would be able to juggle a full time job, full time med school, and raising a kid on their own, but he did it. Even if shit is terrible most of the time, I’m grateful to have a dad as incredible as him.”

Steve let Frankie’s words sink in before curiosity took its hold, “He’s a single parent?”

Frankie sips from her milkshake, looking back at Steve as she sits back. “Wasn’t always, but yeah. Never met my mom, she, uh, she was sick, too. Cancer. Passed before my first birthday.”

“Jesus, Frankie… I’m so sorry.”

She shrugs, trying to let the everlasting sting roll off her back. “I heard she was really sweet, and funny. My dad showed me some home movies a few years back, and it was the first time I heard her voice. She was so pretty, and happy, and—“ She shakes her head, scoffing at herself. “God, I’m sorry for rambling.”

“You don’t have anything to apologize for. If you ever wanna talk about this… or anything, I might not know what to say, but I’ll always listen.”

“Right back at ya’, Steve,” She murmurs, gaze friendly before sipping her milkshake.

“I don’t think you want to know my story,” He tries shrugging it off, as if a chuckle would follow, but never does.

“I do, and I mean that.” She firmly states, locking eyes with him. “But only when you’re comfortable sharing it.”

Steve nods, “Yeah. Maybe someday. Kinda hard to even talk to my therapist still about it.”

“You’ll get there eventually. On your own terms.” Frankie can tell he’s uncomfortable, searching for a change of subject. She looks back at his legs, still next to her in the booth. “Isn’t your leg cold?” She nods to the hole in his jeans, right above his knee.

“Yeah, but I needed to wear my knee brace today.”

“I can sew loose, stretchy fabric in, and snaps to remove it, if that helps,” She slurps down the last of the milkshake. “You cool with hanging out longer?”

Steve can’t suppress the grin that graces his face.

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Frankie’s apartment is in a repurposed warehouse; a large studio, cluttered with art supplies scattered all about. An easel hangs out in the wide open room near a window, with canvasses, both finished and unfinished everywhere surrounding it. Cups and cups of paintbrushes, tubes of paint, pastels, graphite pencils and drawing pads strewn atop nearly every surface. A sewing machine rested snug in a corner of the open room.

Among it all was the kitchen and living room; down a hallway were the doors to the bathroom, and her bedroom.

After Steve changes into the sweats Frankie found for him, he enters the main room, holding the sweatpants up by the waistband awkwardly, handing his pair of jeans over to her.

“Sorry, I knew they’d be kinda big, but not that much.” She has jersey knit fabric already cut, sewing snaps to the edges. As she works, she elaborates, “I keep a buncha sizes in clothes, ‘cause my weight fluctuates all the time with flare ups.”

“That’s actually… really smart.”

“Yeah, I got tired of buying and donating the same several sizes over and over. Just easier, and cheaper, to keep ‘em all on hand.” Frankie’s zoned into the impromptu project, so Steve wanders around her apartment, stopping at the kitchen table, blanketed with multiple sketches.

“I didn’t know you could draw.” He wonders aloud, glancing over the sketch pad papers. There’s a certain style he can’t quite put his finger on with her work; for plain subjects and ideas, they’re incredible.

Steve turns to the easel with her latest work in progress. It’s a portrait of a woman weeping, holding a mask of her face that’s smiling over her real expression. It’s gorgeous work, but he feels a pang in his chest, wondering if Frankie feels this way more often than not.

“Holy shit, Frankie…” He breathes, recognizing his own struggles through the piece; how often he feels as if he needs to bury his own pain to keep everyone else comfortable. Then again, who hasn’t felt at one point or another they need to cover up how they truly feel?

“I hope that’s a good “holy shit”,” She responds as she continues sewing.

“Your work is amazing,” He’s still staring at the painting, admiring how her art style is slightly unkempt, and leans toward traditional tattoo-style art, but she makes it work somehow; some of the paint bleeds outside the lines, or speckles in random splotches, like watercolors, but it adds character. “Do you just paint as a hobby?”

“I actually had plans to become a tattoo artist, did an apprenticeship and everything,” She murmurs, loud enough for him to hear, but still weighed down with disappointment. She pulls the denim away from the sewing machine, trimming away the loose threads. “Can’t really tattoo when you’ve got unpredictable hand tremors, though. S’why the paintings are such a wreck.”

Oh.

“Shit. That’s…” Again, Steve can’t find proper words of empathy. “I’m sorry.”

Frankie finally glances over her shoulder at him, “Kinda normal for folks like us to leave behind our dreams. Mourn what our lives could’ve been, and what they used to be.”

The familiarity of surrender in her voice hits Steve hard. He might not have had the same dreams to give up to prioritize his health, but it’s still an experience similar to hers. Giving up any dreams or goals he had to accept they probably wouldn’t, couldn’t, come to life. He’s watched his life’s potential slip through his fingers, and has no way of stopping it from vanishing completely.

Mourning what your life was isn’t easy, either. Reminiscing on better health in earlier times of your existence, proof you’ll never be that happy, that healthy again— even if Steve was unhappy deep down in high school, he wishes he had the energy to still fake it.

“Yeah. Fucking sucks.” He mutters. At the same time, Frankie turns to him, holding his jeans out for him to take.

Steve glances over her handiwork, grateful to have soft fabric that’ll finally work with his knee brace, while being removable when it’s too warm out.

“On the bright side, at least you’ve got a friend who gets it now.” She’s speaking softly, with so much, too much, understanding. It helps to finally have a friend who can relate, but with that comes sharing the same emotional hardships, ones that feel endless.

Still, it’s better than navigating that all on your own.

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It’s been a handful of weeks— maybe about a month and change— since Steve’s life began to feel good again. He’s not sure how long exactly, he just knows since finding a doctor that sincerely cared for his patients, and befriending Frankie, someone his age he could finally relate to, he doesn’t care to keep track of time like a dismal countdown.

He’s not counting the days he feels like a prisoner in his own body anymore.

Timing, though, is always perfectly unfortunate when it comes to Steve’s luck, and life.

On a dull Wednesday night, he and Frankie are closing up the shop before their plans to meet up with Robin at the diner. Steve has had a muted ache in his head since the previous night, but it wasn’t enough to keep him in bed, thankfully. He took some Tylenol earlier in the day, and that helped with staving off most of the pain. Any relief he can find, he happily takes.

The sun isn’t setting as early anymore, a sign winter’s almost at its end; he’s been looking forward to spring, because this cold has done no favors to his aching joints. Until then, he’s still bundling up ridiculously to keep from violently shaking in the cold.

“Hey, Frankie?” He’s looking behind the counter, puzzled. His head feels heavy, thoughts settling in a thick fog. Pushing past it, he asks, “Have you seen my scarf?”

Frankie returns from the tiny stockroom, keys swinging lazily on her finger. “Is it the blue one?”

“No, it’s—“ Steve pauses, hands on the counter to hold himself up from a sudden bout of dizziness. He gives a weak laugh, “I can’t even remember if I wore one at all. Maybe I didn’t.”

Frankie’s quick to notice something’s not right when Steve practically white knuckles the edge of the counter; her firsthand experience with chronic illness is setting off alarms in her head.

“Steve, you should sit down—“ She rushes around to him, pushing the stool towards him. Grabbing his shoulders, she pushes him gently into the chair. “What’s going on?”

“S’blurry,” Is all he mutters to her. She lifts a hand to his forehead, and he shivers, speaking up a bit more, “You’re always cold.”

She keeps her panic to herself, and rolls her eyes with a tiny smile, pulling her hand away to reach into her bag on the floor; straightening back up with a heavily sticker-bombed water bottle, she hands it to him.

“When’d you last eat?”

Steve shrugs, weakly sipping out of the bottle. “Uh, a few hours ago, I think.” He’s struggling to stay in conversation as the vision in his one eye blurs. “Frankie, I can’t see shit out of this eye.” He points to the right side of his face, hand nearly limp.

“Does your head hurt?”

“Been hurting all day, actually,” He waves his hand in front of his own face, repeating, “Yeah I- I can’t see a damn thing out of this eye.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Wasn’t a big deal ‘til now— shit—“ Steve clutches his head; everything’s too overwhelming. The lights are too bright, the buzz of electricity is too loud, and he feels nauseous. The dizziness is only growing stronger, too. Curling into himself, he doubles over, head in his hands as he leans towards his legs. “God, I hate this.”

Frankie rushes to the light switch across the room, turning off all the lights inside; the only light available is what wanders in from the city outside through the windows.

There was one crucial detail Steve left out when he confided in Frankie about his ocular migraines: the pain is so intense, it works in tandem with his anxiety, triggering flashbacks of those miserable last few years in Hawkins.

They roll through so quickly in his mind; the first time he fought off a demogorgon with Nancy and Jonathan. When Steve became a personal punching bag for Billy nearly one year later, the same night he had been roped into fighting off demodogs with the kids, nearly dying multiple times before the sun rose again. The fucked up elevator in Starcourt that plummeted to an artificial hell that also nearly killed him and his friends. He could picture the fists flying at him, his honest answers for the countless times he was asked “who do you work for?” never enough for his captors.

“Stop, stop, stop—“

Frankie hears Steve whimpering while his flashbacks drag him deeper into the past.

Because who can just forget nearly dying far too many times with your friends before turning twenty? Why forget it when the past just continues to help you survive even further carnage?

His lungs burn while he recalls swimming down to the bottom of the lake, in search of the gate, only to be pulled back down after resurfacing to his friends. It’s not easy to erase the way he fought for his life once dragged into the Upside Down, especially not when the scars refuse to fade, continuing to keep the nightmare alive. Even if his scars blended into his worn, tired skin now, the proof lies in each and every person in the group. Hell, the proof is in anyone from Hawkins.

“Steve—“ Frankie’s voice breaks through to him, only for a moment, too quick to pull him out of this traumatic loop of memories.

Vecna. Stumbling upon Eddie, nearly dead, in Dustin’s arms. The “earthquake”. Max deep in a coma in the hospital. Watching the Upside Down bleed into reality on this plane of existence. The ultimate downfall of what was once his hometown— once a haven of memories, good and bad, ones that taught him life lessons, ones that he still reminisces on to this day. Leaving behind everything he loved in that shitty little town. Goodbyes with everyone as they all split their separate ways, with hopes and dreams of making the most of a new life somewhere safe.

Hawkins, Indiana was wiped off the map. Wiped from existence to keep the rest of the world safe.

Hawkins was only a memory, now.

Hawkins was gone.

“Hi, y- yeah, we need an ambulance, my friend, h- he—“

Everyone made it out alive, but what was the point when everyone was hurting badly, one way or another?

What’s the point in surviving if you continue to live in your own personal hell? He thinks, barely making out Frankie reciting the address for the record store. He blindly reaches out for her, still folded over in agony.

Instead of finding her, he finds himself slipping off the chair, hitting the cold, hard floor before abruptly losing his grip on reality.

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The first thing Steve sees when his eyes weakly flutter open is Frankie. Everything is blurry, but not like before; his vision slowly comes into focus, while the edges of tunnel vision have faded away. A dim, frail smile appears on his face at her sleeping figure, curled up next to him.

Pressure in his head spreads, like there’s an ache about to begin, but it never does, held at bay. That’s when he notices the IV in his arm, prying his eyes open a little more, baffled and trying to sift through the brain fog.

Frankie stirs, eyes squinting open, but once she sees Steve’s awake, her eyes widen; she sits up too quickly, stumbling out of the chair she folded herself into, catching herself at the last minute.

“Steve—“

“Hi Frankie,” He smiles, dopey and sleepy, like he just woke up from a nap, and not a medical scare. She grabs his hand, and he blushes. Looking down at their hands clasped together, a dazed look covers his features. “Your hand’s not very cold. You okay?”

A laugh slips out of Frankie, “I think all the panic made me overheated.” Her bottom lip wobbles, despite Steve’s lips still curved up lazily, “You’re the one in the hospital bed, I should be asking you that.”

“M’fine, I feel great, actually.”

“That would be the drugs doing their job, buddy.” She’s surprised to hear herself giggle, but it rises a weak yet genuine laugh out of Steve. Her thumb softly swipes back and forth on his hand, still in hers. “You scared the hell outta me, Steve.”

His face drops, beginning to realize the severity of the situation, despite gaps of memory to recall on. “I… don’t remember anything.”

“Do you want me to tell you?”

He wordlessly nods.

“Your head hurt all day, but you didn’t tell me until a migraine started,” Frankie sighs, gently pushing his sweat-matted hair away from his eyes. “I think it was an ocular migraine, ‘cause you told me you couldn’t— well, in your exact words, you said “Frankie, I can’t see shit out of this eye”, and then it— you—”

It all floods back to Steve in a flash— his headache that rolled into a sudden, ocular migraine, making him dizzy and weak. How his right eye went blind, then everything hurt, sent him into a panic, and triggered the flashbacks.

“You fell, too, but thankfully you landed on my bag instead of the floor.” She reaches down to his forehead, just above his brow, gently sweeping a thumb across his skin. “There’s a small bruise, but could’ve been worse.”

That, he ignores. Instead, Steve’s heart drops at the thought of what Frankie might’ve heard or seen. Before he can ask, she gathers the courage to tell him.

“You we’re crying, saying ‘I wanna go home’ a- and ‘stop, stop, stop,’” Her fingers grip his hand, shaking. He squeezes back, sobering up fast from the pain medication. “You kept calling out names, calling for Robin, and I- I don’t know who else, but you sounded so hurt, Steve.”

Steve doesn’t even realize he’s crying until Frankie whispers, “oh” and grabs a handful of tissues from the side table, handing them over to him.

“I— goddammit. I’m so sorry, Frankie.”

“It’s okay—“

He shakes his head, eyes falling shut; he can’t look at her right now, he feels nothing but shame.

“It’s not. It never will be. I wasn’t trying to hide anything or lie, but I- I- I—“ In the midst of his panic, he remembers the plans they had with Robin. His bloodshot eyes lock with Frankie’s teary ones. “Shit, does Robin know—“

“She’s on her way. Thankfully she stopped by instead of meeting us at the diner, right when the ambulance came. I asked if Robin wanted to go with you, but she asked if I could instead; she wanted to grab your meds and a few other things.” Frankie reassures him, but Steve can’t shake the guilt, can’t escape the embarrassment. “Robin’s really a great best friend.”

Steve rubs his eyes, nodding as his voice wavers, “Best friend I ever had. I- I’d be dead without her.”

“Give yourself some credit, man.” A familiar voice floats into the room; Frankie and Steve both look across the hospital room to find Robin, along with Eddie and Dustin trailing in behind her.

“It’s definitely that charming stubbornness to survive y’got going on,” Robin teases lightheartedly.

Frankie looks back at Steve, finding his face about to light up, but he just falls apart again. She releases his hand so Robin can hug him. Steve shakes in her grasp, while Robin murmurs “you’re okay, you’re safe”, soft enough for only Steve to hear; Frankie’s still able to catch it, though.

“Wh— what are you two doing here?”

“You picked the best time to go to the ER,” Dustin grins, trying to point out the bright side. “We were gonna surprise you at the diner, but now we get to surprise you here!” Steve’s smile wavers; he wants to be happy to see his friends again, but the sudden visit and multiple voices, louder than Frankie, makes him wince, too.

Still, he finds himself asking, “Dustin, why are you excited about that?”

“‘Cause, hospitals suck. Unless Eddie and I are in ‘em.” Dustin looks over at Frankie with a questioning, yet friendly look. “Who— oh. Are you Frankie?”

Her cheeks turn rosy while Steve groans, head falling back on the pillow.

Trying to redirect, Eddie teases, “The kid tells no lies, we’re the best free entertainment a hospital can get.” He’s shooting Steve a knowing look that earns a short-lived laugh out of him.

Now Steve knows how Max felt when she woke from her coma, when Eddie was finally stable enough to leave his room next to hers. How him and Dustin did everything they could, said whatever they could say, to crack a smile on her face.

It’s the thought that counts, he thinks, grateful to have friends who care. Steve always felt like everyone would forget him when they all left Hawkins behind. After all, he was usually the one looking out for everyone else. Putting them first. Making sure everyone was safe and sound before himself.

How relieved he was to be wrong, for once.

“How you holding up?” Dustin asks,

“Uh… I…”

All of this is overwhelming; Steve’s still trying to process what happened, was in the middle of Frankie retelling details, and now he’s on an emotional rollercoaster from a surprise visit from two friends he hadn’t seen in god knows how long.

On top of all of that, his head is one loud, startling noise or bright light away from kicking off another migraine.

Robin can tell he’s a step away from falling apart, so she jumps in to give him some breathing room. “I think… we should get snacks from the vending machine. Do either of you want anything?” Frankie shakes her head, and Steve only shrugs without an answer. “We’ll be back, ‘kay?” She backs up, gently pushing the two curly heads out of the room despite their protests; the room falls silent once again.

Steve sighs loudly, eyes shutting as he relaxes into the bed. “I love them, but I— it’s just—“

“Bad timing, I get it. There’s nothing wrong with asking for space.” Frankie assures him, then adds, “I should’ve asked too, do you need me to leave?”

“Don’t,” Steve’s cursing himself inwardly for answering so quickly. “Un- unless you wanna leave—“

“I wanna stay,” She answers at an embarrassing speed, making Steve smile. “I— I can stay overnight, if you want. But don’t feel obligated to say yes.”

“They’ll let you do that?”

“Usually, no, but I know the nurse on shift tonight, and she’s incredibly sweet. Told me already I can stay if I need to.” Frankie smirks. “One, tiny upside of being a hospital regular. Honestly, everyone’s nice here, at least who I’ve met.” She stops herself from rambling, glancing at Steve with concern. “You need anything right now?”

Steve murmurs, “No, just cold,” and releases her hand to pull the covers over himself, shivering. As he does, Frankie catches the scar around his neck while the flimsy hospital gown shifts along with him, exposing a sliver more of him than she’s seen.

He notices her stare, hand flying to his neck in a pathetic attempt to cover it; he’s quick to stammer out an excuse, “Oh that’s, uh, from— it’s actually a long story, but it’s not— it’s—“

Frankie shakes her head, reaching for Steve’s hand to squeeze softly. “You don’t have to tell me anything, not unless you’re ready and want to. Whatever your story is, Steve, it’s for you to tell on your own terms.”

Again, she watches him relax from a tensed state.

“Thank you, ‘Key.”

She smirks, “Y’know, I only let people I’m close to call me that.”

“Oh- oh, shit, I’m—“ He sits up, about to stammer out an apology, but her free hand gently stops him before pushing him back down slowly.

“That includes you.”

“Really?”

“Just one condition.”

“What is it?”

“You tell me if you’re in pain. I know that’s nearly all the time, but if you can’t come in, or can’t hang out, you tell me. Hell, if you need, you can call me if you’re home alone and just need to talk about it.” She softly demands and suggests. Steve nods; it’s only fair, especially after tonight’s scare. “Or even if you still come to work or want to keep plans, don’t be afraid to ask for what you need. I’d rather you take care of yourself than push your body past its limits.”

Steve’s mind races around for the right words to return to her, but all he can respond with is a sincere, “Thank you, Frankie.” Then he adds quickly, “All of what you just said, that applies to you too. Got it?” He tries coming off stern, playfully, of course; instead, his lips crack into a smile, but the sentiment is still true.

“Got it, Stevie,” She tries winking, but it looks more like a twitch, and the two burst into giggles. “You make it look so easy whenever you wink!”

Steve just shoots her a smooth, quick wink. In return, he gets her playful eye roll. He finds comfort and safety in the harmless teasing between one another.

Things might’ve gone to hell tonight, but at least Steve didn’t go through it alone.

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When everyone returned to the hospital room, they made sure to keep their tones quiet, soft, and Steve felt some guilt over that, but he reminded himself too that he’s lucky to have friends who accommodate his needs.

He catches Robin, Dustin, and Eddie up to speed, leaving out the gory, telling details of his flashbacks; Robin must’ve warned Dustin and Eddie to not speak about the Upside Down, for Frankie’s sake. And really, for Steve’s sake, too. After his mind ran through every event, every memory, down to the very last detail, he was exhausted. The last thing he wanted to think or talk about was Hawkins, and all the horrors it once contained.

And once proper introductions were made, Steve admired the way Dustin and Eddie automatically included Frankie into every part of the conversation, making sure she felt welcomed among them, too.

Steve needed this. He needed the distraction, needed the laughter, the inside jokes, with stories explained to Frankie to keep her in the loop. The longer the visit went on, though, the more Steve realized at some point, he’d have to explain everything to Frankie. She told him to take his time, that he wouldn’t ever need to talk about it if he wasn’t ready, but he’d rather get it out in the open sooner rather than later.

This friendship was something Steve never had with anyone else before, and he was quickly growing attached to the dynamic. He never expected to grow attached to Frankie so fast, either. Or at all.

Visiting hours end, with Dustin hugging Steve a little too tight, apologetic as he loosens his arms when Steve grumbles in pain. Dustin narrows his eyes at Steve, repeating a sentiment from the time they were stuck in the elevator in Starcourt. “If you die, I die. So don’t die.”

“Oh, we changed that one up a bit? Alright,” Robin snorts, and Dustin flips her off.

Meanwhile, Steve only shrugs. “Okay.”

“Some things never change,” Robin mutters, shaking her head.

The older two out of the trio say their goodbyes, too, with Eddie reminding in a sing-song voice, “Gonna bother you again tomorrow, Big Boy.”

“Please, for the love of—“ Steve sighs, sinking under the covers, embarrassed. “Stop calling me that.” Frankie’s lost, but still giggling over the exchanges; he points at her, “No, don’t— do not encourage his nonsense”

“Respectfully, no, I’ll never stop.” He grins while Robin shoves him out of the room. As he’s nearly out the door, he waves and shouts, “Nice meeting you, Frankie!”

Alone, yet again, Frankie bites her lip to contain her laughter, and Steve narrows a glare at her. “Oh, I can already tell you’re gonna be trouble with them.”

“Listen, it’s not my fault your friends are funny and charming.”

“They’re anything but—“

“Oh, I’m telling ‘em tomorrow you said that.”

“Where’s your proof, Amato?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know, Harrington.” She sticks her tongue out at him.

Laughing, his brows knit together, “I would!”

He tries to conjure a better comeback to throw her way, but his thoughts fizzle out while watching her set up the chairs into a makeshift bed.

“Frankie.”

She spins around, watching Steve lean up on his elbow. “Huh?”

“You’re not sleeping on those chairs. That’s gonna kill your neck. And your back.” Steve deadpans, pulling his glasses off to set them on the nightstand. “And every other joint in your body.”

Frankie snorts, holding her arms out, “Then where am I sleeping, Steve?”

“Up here,” He’s even surprised by his own boldness, but carries through. “With me.”

If one could hold someone’s gaze in a death grip, Frankie would be doing that right now with Steve’s stare; disbelief and skepticism floods through her thoughts.

“Unless that’s too— if you’re not comfortable—“

“Steve,” Frankie pushes past the way her round cheeks flush red, “We gotta stop second guessing ourselves like this.”

“Yeah, but I just don’t want to assume—“

“When you’re close with someone, assumptions are kind of a given. When someone gets you, it’s not offensive.” She holds the extra pillow a nurse gave her earlier to her chest. “I’m okay with it, if you are. And I’m going to assume you are, because you asked—“

“Demanded—“

Her mouth falls open at his bluntness, “Okay, Big Boy, slow down—“

“Francesca,” He groans, falling back onto the pillows, “please do not call me that.”

She laughs softly, tugging the edges of Steve’s lips into a soft smile; he’s a goner. He knows he is. He’s known for awhile now, but her laugh, her smile, solidifies it.

“Okay, Steven.”

Waving his arm out towards the uncomfortable hospital bed, he sasses, “Will you shut the hell up and get up here?”

“Didn’t know you were so bossy in bed, Steve,” Frankie waggles her brows at Steve, and while he tries rolling his eyes, his face falls back into a deep shade of red she’s been so easily able to pull out of him these days.

“Christ, Amato, do you ever sh—“

“Shut it, man. I’m moving as fast as a cripple can,” She teases, rounding the bed to climb into the empty side. Kicking her boots off, she swings her legs into the bed. There’s just enough room for her, but only if she presses against Steve by just a touch. “If this is too close—“

“It’s not—“

“Okay, well—“

“‘Key?” Steve’s voice wavers, soft and unsure of himself, despite the habitual teasing. “Can you— shit, this is stupid—“

“Whatever it is, it’s not stupid.” She reassures blindly. “Ask me.”

Steve takes a deep breath, nerves seeping through the overly confident demeanor the drugs gave him. “Can you… can—“ He sighs, frustrated with himself, before blurting out, “Can you hold me?”

Frankie doesn’t answer, not verbally; already on her side, she winds her arms around Steve’s torso, hugging him lightly from behind.

“This okay? You’re comfortable?”

He just nods definitively.

“Steve… your gown is open.”

He panics, shooting up and throwing a hand behind himself to try closing the opening, until he feels Frankie shake against him with laughter.

“You’re such a— quit laughing!” Steve laughs as he tries demanding this of Frankie.

“M’sorry, it was just— the opportunity was there, I had to take it.”

He sighs, suppressing his grin, his chuckles, laying back down. “You’re gonna give me a heart attack.”

“Best place to have one though, no?” Frankie settles down, snuggling closer to him; her position is certain, yet leaves room for Steve to distance himself if he wants.

He doesn’t answer with words, just tugs her arms closer around his body, her hands to his chest.

“Hey, Frankie?”

“Mhm?”

“Thank you. I know those migraines aren’t exactly life threatening, but…” He trails off, closing his eyes before admitting the truth, “They make it so… so hard to want to be alive. I’m grateful for your help. I’m sorry you had to witness that, but I— you—“ Oh, fuck it. “I didn’t expect to become so attached to our friendship, to you. But… I’m one lucky, unlucky son of a bitch to have someone in my life like you.”

Frankie feels her tears well her eyes; her and Steve are both so easily emotional— it comes with the territory of being sick on a regular basis. Who wouldn’t be? Realistically, how can you expect someone in the depths of internal and external pain to navigate this life with ease?

Neither of them are cured from the security of this friendship, but it’s reassuring to both that neither are alone in this fight against the bodies they pilot, day in, day out. No definite future for either separately, but at least they can navigate it together.

Frankie’s almost sure Steve’s asleep, so she speaks up to make sure.

“Steve?”

“Yeah?”

She sighs, pushing her sentiment into words, solidifying the security of their friendship, at the very least.

“Whatever hell you lived through,” Her voice wavers while on the precipice of sleep, barely heard under the heart monitor’s routine beeps. “I’m glad you survived.”

He’s half asleep, heart monitor rolling to a steady crawl “M’glad I survived, too.”

#Steve Harrington x fem!oc #Steve Harrington x oc #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fic #my fics #accident prone

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obwjam · 8 months

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i humbly present: giant!spider-noir and tiny!peni parker

anons, i am sure you are THRILLED that i am FINALLY getting around to your asks after a... decent amount of time lol and i still dont feel like i'm fully out of my g/t writers block but we take what we can get. everyone please enjoy some long-overdue peni and noir content 🫶

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“Oh, no… kiddo…”

Peni didn’t know what to do. It was like all the air had been sucked from her lungs and her ears were ringing and her brain was going a mile a minute. The tiny girl continued to sob, head in hands, and the imposing figure of Noir could only look down in discomfort, for so many reasons.

First of all, he hated the way Peni looked so helpless and fragile as she simply sat on a tabletop. It was some experiment gone wrong, she told him – as she tried to find a way to retrofit the dimension-hopping bracelets without having to go through HQ, a calculation must have been off, or she just didn’t account for dimensional differences, because she landed right where she wanted to – in Noir’s world – but when she came to, everything was gigantic and she couldn’t handle it.

“I don’t… I don’t believe it… Peni…?”

It was starting to get dark out, but even in the middle of the day, there was no mistaking the flashing colors of the portal ripping open. Noir had sensed it and positioned himself right next to it, but… nobody emerged.

At least that’s what he thought. As he glanced down in deep thought after the portal collapsed in on itself and disappeared, something was nagging at the back of his brain.

Something familiar… intertwined with burning fear.

Peni, for her part, didn’t even know what was going on. Her bracelet showed that she was exactly where she wanted to be – Earth 90214.

So why did everything feel so… heavy?

Maybe it’s because this place was devoid of any color, and that always threw her for a loop. No, no, that’s not it. She’s been here before, and that never truly bothered her beyond the cosmetics. Maybe her calculations were slightly off, and the inter-dimensional journey was particularly taxing this time.

She got to her feet and immediately wobbled, blinking rapidly as she tried to make sense of what she was seeing. This is weird… I can’t see a thing.

The first footstep was like thunder. Peni winced, shutting her eyes on instinct as she staggered backwards. The subsequent footsteps were no better, and she soon found herself dizzy as she spun around trying to figure out what was happening.

Noir’s heart lurched at the tiny girl’s reaction. He hated the way she looked so helpless on the ground, and his chest suddenly filled with a cocktail of stress, anger and the pure urge to protect.

Through her disorientation, Peni was able to discern that the dark shadow that was cast over her was suddenly getting darker. The sinking feeling of being loomed over was almost overwhelming her spidey senses, but something told her she had to look up.

She didn’t expect the massive, imposing figure of Spider-Noir to be right in front of her.

Her eyes widened as she realized what was going on. No – no – this can’t be happening – how did this happen! – I – I can’t let him see me like this!

“Peni, wait!” Noir cried as the tiny girl took off, forgetting how loud his voice was to her now. “It’s me, it’s Noir! Wait!”

Peni sprinted as fast as her little legs would take her. No time to look back, she thought. I’ve got to get out of here.

Noir’s heart sank. Peni was clearly desperate to escape. He just couldn’t let her do that. The world was dangerous enough for a normal spider person, but now that one of them could fit in the palm of his hand? It was a disaster waiting to happen.

Peni was so focused on getting out of there that she didn’t notice Noir bending down to snatch her up. It wasn’t until his fingertips practically brushed her back did she notice, and by then, it was too late.

A piercing scream echoed up from Peni, causing Noir to wince as he slowly lifted his tiny friend up from the ground. He cringed at the way she kicked and screamed and punched to try and escape, but he knew he had to do this. He did his best to ignore her protests, plopping her in his palm as gently as he could before curling his fingers over her, shrouding her in darkness.

Inside, Peni was panicking. Logically, being with Noir while she was now tiny was the best possible outcome, but everything about her current situation defied all logic. She desperately hurled her fist at the walls of her new prison, but she simply bounced backwards every time. She wasn’t even sure Noir could feel anything, considering he was wearing thick gloves.

Oh, Noir could feel it. Every small impact against his gloved hand sent a shiver down his spine as he ran back to his hideout. There were so many questions swirling around in his brain – questions he knew Peni would have the answer to… if she could work up the courage to talk.

After what felt like hours of movement, Peni felt Noir lurch to a stop. She swallowed and closed her eyes as light flooded her vision. Once she adjusted, her trembling eyes scanned her surroundings and horror filled her senses. She knew this place, but almost none of it was recognizable. Various weapons and pieces of technology looked positively alien, and almost everything looked like it was capable of killing her in an instant.

Thoroughly terrified and definitely embarrassed, she refused to meet Noir’s gaze as he took a seat and kept his hand hovering above the tabletop. Underneath his mask, Noir’s eyes were flickering to a new thing every few seconds – her panicked eyes, her heavy breathing, the small cuts and bruises she sustained in the crash landing.

“Peni… are… are you okay?” he finally asked. He didn’t want to startle her more than he already had, but even the rumbling of his voice made her cower. She crossed her arms and kept her gaze forward.

He wasn’t sure what he was expecting to feel when he held her, but now that he had a moment to process the situation, he felt… protective. This was a tiny life he was holding, and he had all the power in this situation. His stomach jumped when he felt her start to tremble. She was at his disposal, and that was terrifying to Noir. He didn’t like thinking of her as helpless, and it was all exacerbated by the fact that she wouldn’t even look at him.

“Peni… please… I need you to talk to me.” He tried to conceal his own shaking voice. “Tell me what happened.”

Eventually, she did, but it took a lot of coaxing and a lot of waiting. Peni tried her best to repair her watch, but she was trying to exhaust every single option at her disposal to avoid having to admit what she did to Miguel. Noir did what he could to help, but mostly, he would just keep Peni company and reassure her that everything was going to be fine.

Today, things were not fine.

It had been nearly a month that Peni had been stuck like this, and it was starting to weigh down on her. She lay awake on the makeshift bed that Noir had made for her, staring up at the ceiling that was impossibly far away. Noir was off on a mission, and he insisted that she wasn’t allowed to come with him. It was too dangerous.

So she was alone.

For some reason, it felt worse today than any other day. She was tired – tired from working nonstop, tired at having to look up at everything, tired from trying to keep it together. She didn’t even get a good night’s sleep last night because, as much as he hates to admit it, Noir snores.

That, and she just had another nightmare.

She was in distress, couldn’t Noir see that? She thought it was obvious. Maybe he really didn’t notice, or he pretended not to because it made him uncomfortable. Like this whole thing didn’t make Peni uncomfortable! Why did he have to go on that stupid mission? She needed him here.

For the next hour, with her hands folded on top of her stomach, Peni lay there, staring, thinking. Every time she closed her eyes, she could see Noir’s gloved hand completely encompassing her vision and she grew smaller and smaller in its presence. The one person she felt that she could count on was a hundred times her size and could kill her in an instant. As much as she tried to take her mind off of everything, the same thing kept echoing in her head: My dad would know what to do.

She barely noticed when Noir returned, twisting gracefully down the pole from above ground and landing with a thud that normally would have made her jump. The spider giant brushed off his coat and glanced over at the tabletop, dismayed to see Peni still laying in bed.

He padded over and bent down to her height, squinting to see if she was awake or asleep.

“Hey, kiddo…” he said softly, afraid of startling her. “You, uh… you alright?”

To Noir’s surprise, Peni rolled over and glared at him before emphatically flipping around so her back was now facing him.

Noir’s eyes widened. It was moments like these that reminded him that she was just a teenager.

“Is... something bothering you?”

Peni didn’t answer, which was effectively an answer.

Noir racked his brain. It wasn’t like he had extensive experience dealing with teenage girls at a normal height. “Do you, uh… do you want to… talk about it?”

Peni let out a small humph, which just made Noir’s heart leap.

“Come on, kid, you can talk to me, you know that.”

Peni was utterly embarrassed, but she had no choice. It wasn’t like she could walk away. Slowly, she turned back toward Noir, whose expression brightened underneath his mask when her tiny, delicate eyes met his. Peni’s cheeks flushed red as she sat up and crossed her arms in protest.

“There. You happy now?”

“Hey, what’s gotten into you?” Noir asked, trying to sound genuine but instead sounding accusatory. A full day out in the field certainly wasn’t helping.

Peni was dumbfounded. “Oh, nothing, I’m just stuck like this and I don’t know how to fix it and I’m – I’m all alone!”

Noir felt a pang in his heart. “Alone? You… you have me.”

“You’re off on missions all the time, though!”

“Well, yeah! I have a job to do! I’m sorry, Peni, I… I can’t just stay home all the time because you want me to!”

Tears began to prick the corner of Peni’s eyes. Why was she so angry?

“It–it doesn’t matter, okay? Forget I said anything! You’re – you’re not my father, and you never will be!”

Both spider people gasped. Noir never thought of himself as her father – after all, he was only 19 years old, so he was more like an older brother. But he always felt this connection to Peni, however inexplicable, given the respective dimensions they each come from. He had this… insatiable need to protect her from the inherent trauma that all spider people experienced. Like he could shield her from all the pain he once went through. He almost forgot that he really couldn’t do that.

Once the first tear fell, the floodgates burst open. She could barely hear Noir go “Oh, no… kiddo…” from high above her, watching helplessly as the girl he saw as family was breaking down because of him.

“Peni, I…” Noir was at a loss for words. Consoling people was not really his strong suit. But something told him that right now, she didn’t need to be lectured at or reprimanded. She needed comfort.

Peni let out a small gasp when she suddenly felt herself being lifted. Noir had gently cupped his hands around her shaking form and, ever so slowly, brought her over to his chest and held her close.

The low drumming of Noir’s heartbeat was enough to snap Peni back to reality. She looked around to confirm that yes, she was being cupped in his hands and yes, he was holding her by his heart.

“It’s okay, kiddo. I gotcha,” his deep voice rumbled from above. The sound waves traveled with ease though his body and into hers, giving her a sense of grounding and warmth that enveloped her like a blanket.

With shaking hands, she was able to wipe the tears from her face until they no longer fell. She allowed the rhythm of his heartbeat to calm her down, and she felt her trembling begin to subside, too. Soon, she had brought her legs up to her chest and curled into Noir’s fingers, allowing herself to melt into his palms.

Noir had to bite his tongue to keep from awwwing.

They sat in silence for a while, with Peni focusing on her breathing and Noir trying his best not to move. Eventually, he felt her stretch out and twist up to look at him.

“Thanks, Noir,” she squeaked, barely audible even to him. “For being here for me.”

“Anytime, kid,” he said back lowly. “Look, uh. I know I’m not the best with… uh…”

“Feelings?”

Noir chuckled. “Yeah. Those. But, you know, you can come to me anytime… about anything. And you don’t have to talk, if you want, but –”

“–Noir,” she cut him off with a chuckle of her own. “I get it.”

“Oh. Good, good.” He fell into a comfortable silence. “Would you, uh, would you like to go lay down? On the couch?”

“I’d… I’d love to,” Peni replied between yawns.

Peni lightly bounced to the rhythm of Noir’s footsteps until the two were settled on the couch with no more words to be said. It was hard for her to realize but Peni wasn’t alone – she had Noir. Sure, she was somehow four inches tall in this universe, and the sheer darkness and drab of his dimension was in stark contrast to her entire existence… but she had someone to care for her, even if it wasn’t the exact way her dad did it.

That was new for her. But she could get used to that.

#you guys dont understand how bad this writers block has been #like i have so many ideas but it's like my brain cant focus on putting them into words #but i'm just glad i was able to get this together after like a week lol #we can never have enough spiderverse content frankly #obwrites #g/t #giant/tiny #giant tiny #spider noir #peni parker #into the spiderverse #across the spiderverse

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