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#i was SO CLOSE to giving up on this drawing honestly
ivantillz · 2 days
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can u write a fic of ivantill navigating their feelings after the kiss if they were both saved by the rebels
Till was annoyed. He was also feeling a lot of other things, undoubtedly, but annoyance was at the top of the list because why wouldn't they just let him see Ivan already?
"Can you please stop pacing?"
He paused mid-step and glanced over at Mizi.
"I just found out one of my friends who I honestly thought was dead has actually been alive this whole time and my other friend is currently being operated on after nearly giving his life to save me. Sorry if I'm a little antsy."
Mizi gave a small smile, undeterred by his bluntness as usual. Or what used to be usual. Till wasn't so sure what had or hadn't changed.
"He'll be okay, I promise." Even as she said it, her eyes were drawn to the closed door. They couldn't even hear anything through the thick metal. "You heard them; the wound was pretty minor. Just grazed his side."
Till pressed his lips into a thin line, hands curled into fists at his sides.
"Why did he do that?" he asked, barely louder than a whisper. Mizi stood up and crossed the hall, drawing him into a hug. He used to dream about this - having her undivided attention - but now it did little to ease the terrible pain in his chest.
Sniffing once, he hugged her tight. She didn't say anything, even as began to cry into her shoulder.
-
It was nearly two hours before the door opened and one of the healers - Mizi had introduced them but honestly Till couldn't remember her name; he had been kind of traumatized at the time, okay? - stepped out.
Till tried very hard not to focus on the blood staining the front of her shirt. "He's stable," she said.
"Okay, great." Till didn't even wait before trying to push past her; she didn't budge. "Come on! I just want to see him."
She smiled politely. "I didn't say you couldn't. Just try and be quiet, okay? He might be doze in and out, don't try to force him to stay awake."
Till pursed his lips. "I know," he grumbled. Mizi joined his side.
"Thank you," she said. With a shared nod, the healer left. Inside the room was the other healer; he quietly set a rag on Ivan's forehead before also leaving the room.
"He still has a slight fever," he explained. "If he asks, you can refresh the rag." He pointed to a bucket on the table with what Till could only hope was clean water.
Once he was gone, Till walked over to the bed and sat down. Mizi sat on the other side of the bed. Ivan hadn't stirred since they walked in.
He looked bad - terrible, even. His skin was even paler than usual, there was a bit of crusted blood still at the corner of his mouth, dark circles under his eyes.
But he was alive, and that was all that mattered.
"I'll just stay until he wakes up," Mizi said quietly, staring at him. "I just want to make sure he's okay."
Till had almost forgotten he wasn't the only one who had been wounded by what happened. He suddenly felt a little guilty.
"You don't have to leave," he said instead.
She smiled over at him; there was something about the look in her eyes that made Till feel exposed. He didn't like the feeling. "I think you two need to talk."
He didn't argue, even if the last thing he wanted to do right now was talk about what had happened. Any of it.
-
Ivan woke up about ten minutes later; he was groggy, as expected, voice hoarse and scratchy.
"Here." Till moved without even thinking, grabbing a cup he had noticed on the table a little earlier.
Ivan was too weak to even hold it. Till adapted quickly; he held the cup to his lips and tilted it back a little. Once Ivan was done, he set it aside again.
"So," he licked his lips. "I guess this isn't heaven, huh?"
Mizi laughed softly. "Not even close. But you're safe here, at least."
He sighed, groaning a little as he tried to sit up. Till moved quickly, gently grabbing his arm to help him. He wasn't even sure if he should be moving yet but he wasn't about to fight him; that just seemed like asking for even more trouble.
"I really expected to die up there," he said once he was settled, the rag fallen at his side. Till grabbed it, plopping it in the bucket for now.
Mizi pressed her lips together. "I think I'm going to go see if they have anything that'll be easy enough on your stomach," she said, gently touching Ivan's shoulder as she stood.
"I'm not hungry," he replied automatically.
She clicked her tongue. "Too bad; you need to eat to recover."
Without waiting for a reply, she swept around the bed and paused just long enough to squeeze Till's shoulder once before leaving the room.
The silence was almost suffocating.
"You weren't really choking me," Till blurted.
Ivan side-eyed him. "Of course not," he said slowly. "Did you really think I would?"
Till opened his mouth, closed it. "I'm not really sure of anything anymore," he admitted quietly.
"It was just a ploy," Ivan continued, looking away. "I don't know. I just needed them to believe it."
It was silent again for a few beats. Till stared at his hands.
"You could've killed me," he said eventually. "I didn't care."
He chanced a look; Ivan was still staring ahead at nothing, his mouth a tight line. "I would've never let that happen," he said and for a moment Till wasn't sure what he meant until - "I would've done anything to ensure your safety."
And that was the crux of it, huh?
Till thought of Ivan's hands around his throat, surprisingly gentle. He thought about his mouth. His lips. He had kissed Till like he was searching for something. Like he needed something.
"You kissed me," he said. It felt weird, finally saying the words.
Ivan snorted, shaking his head minutely. "I did." He side-eyed Till again. "I know it was selfish of me. I know."
"But if you could do it over again, would you still kiss me?"
Till wasn't even sure what had motivated him to ask. Ivan smiled; it was almost sad. "Probably."
He nodded. He wasn't upset. He wasn't even sure if he had been upset, in the moment, not for longer than a second. Mostly he had been confused.
But now that he had time to think on it, he wasn't so confused anymore.
"I never knew," he mused quietly. "I mean." He looked up, suddenly a little angry. "You never told me. You should've told me."
All that time he had been chasing after Mizi and a part of him had always known it was never going to happen. She had loved - she still did - love Sua.
Time wasted. He had never even considered...
"There was no reason to burden you with my own feelings," Ivan said evenly. "I'm selfish, maybe, but I didn't want to make things even more complicated for you."
Till breathed out through his nose. "You really think you were doing that for my sake?" he asked, struggling to keep his voice level. "You think you had the right to decide what was best for me?"
Ivan stared back at him, eyes as dark as ever. "I don't understand."
"You kept it from me," Till continued, pressing a hand to his chest, "because you were scared to say it. You were scared of how I would respond."
Ivan let out a humorless laugh. "We both know how you would've responded, Till." He sighed. "This is a pointless argument to have."
He still wasn't getting it. "No," he said, leaning closer. "We don't know how I would've responded because you never gave me the chance."
"Just like you gave the same chance to Mizi?" he shot back.
Till pressed his lips together. "That is not the same and you know it. Sua loved her back. It was different. I - " He paused, biting the inside of his cheek.
Suddenly the fight was drained out of him. Ivan eyed him warily.
"You what?" he asked, looking cautious and almost nervous. Till had never seen that expression on his face. He always looked so in control of everything. It was nice to be reminded he was really just human like the rest of them.
Till swallowed around the lump in his throat. "I think I could've liked you, Ivan. If only I had known."
Ivan stared at him like he wasn't really seeing him. "No," he said, too fast. He looked more scared, here, than he had up on that stage.
"Didn't factor that into your little plan, huh?" he asked; without asking, he pulled the rag out of the water and wrung it before leaning forward to gently scrub away the dried blood on his chin. "I don't think I ever really liked her, not in the way I thought I did."
Ivan was silent, his jaw clenched.
"I was just - I needed something. An escape. A dream. She was nice to me. Pretty..." Till sat back. "I think I just really wanted someone to care about me."
Ivan glanced at him briefly before looking away again.
"But this whole time I was blind to see I had that," Till felt his eyes burning. "Maybe you weren't as obvious about it, maybe you had your own way of showing it, but... that doesn't matter." He tossed the rag aside and reached for his hand; Ivan stiffened as he grabbed it but didn't pull away. "I would like to have a second chance."
Ivan stared at their hands. "You don't owe me this," he said, voice still carefully even.
"I'm not offering anything because I feel like endowed to you," he squeezed his hand, hard. "You know me well enough to know I wouldn't do that. Now stop fighting me on this and look at me."
Ivan lifted his head.
"Thank you, Ivan," he said, staring into his eyes - dark, yes, but warm, comforting and familiar - "for caring about me, even when I couldn't see it."
Ivan opened his mouth, closed it. He squeezed his hand back. If Till didn't know better, he would even say he was blushing a little.
Maybe he would always have a bit of regret for not really seeing Ivan earlier. Maybe Ivan would apologize many more times for kissing him without permission. Maybe he would try to apologize for hurting Till, even if he didn't. Not really. All the pain he had felt - the real pain - was cured the moment he had known he would be okay. Maybe they would still struggle a lot, have bad and good days, but maybe that was okay.
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chilschuck · 2 days
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Can i request for chilchuck react to reader who like to daydream and after he tell the reader he is married, the reader keep spacing out more often out of sadness and they also try to avoid interacting with him much so she can move on. But laios and the other think it's normal since she always avoid interacting with people ( the reader interact with chilchuck more after falling in love with him )
Do you think he will notice? (ಥ﹏ಥ) (ಡ‸ಡ)
`✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹ WAHHHH ANON this is such a good concept and made my heart hurt…… i ended up adding some comfort to it because if you’re like me, you need it after reading angst!! :”)))
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— OF COURSE: chilchuck x gn!reader.
꒰ warnings: ꒱ sfw + hurt/comfort! might be a lil ooc, lol.
꒰ wc: ꒱ 941
✦ i hope this turned out okay!! i made it shorter than my other drabbles by accident but it felt good to end it where it did. i kind of changed the prompt a lil but only because i wanted to give you guys some love from chil still. (;;;w;;;) i’m honestly worried this turned out bad…. hhhhh. i’m so sorry if it’s not what you wanted. ;;; i still hope you enjoy!!! <333
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He knew something was wrong.
It wasn’t difficult to see that you had started avoiding him. Even your gaze refused to meet his own for longer than it had to. Your constant spacing out and stares at the floor said all he needed to hear: you were upset.
It only seemed to get worse when you overheard his talk about reconciling with his wife, any hope you had shattering into a thousand pieces in front of you. From then on, you didn’t smile unless you felt you had to. The thick silence you left in your wake was suffocating, and Chilchuck wasn’t sure how much more he could take.
The other members in the party took it as if you were being your usual spacey self, and didn’t draw any attention to the issue. This only made Chilchuck feel worse; he definitely noticed the change.
You used to hang back with Chilchuck and talk with him constantly, sharing little tidbits about yourselves or chatting mindlessly. Things seemed to come easily when it came to you... Too bad he only realized this now.
The smiles you gave him, the eyes full of affection, the lingering touches… It stung that they were no longer a part of his everyday life. Instead, the sadness that ate at you only bled through to your face, into your actions, and into your silence. It was unfamiliar and unbearable at the same time… Especially with the way you’d closed up further.
Chilchuck wasn’t stupid; he knew you harbored some sort of feelings for him. He wasn’t sure if that made this hurt more than it would otherwise. You were obviously distancing yourself from him, further proving his point that inner party relationships were trouble. Yet, there wasn’t any anger or resentment in his chest towards you. If anything, this was a misunderstanding between the two of you.
Calling your name, he approached you almost apprehensively. The recoil you gave made that familiar sharp pain in his chest reappear. Blurting out an excuse, you made your presence scarce. And just like that, you left him alone again.
Of course he noticed. If anything, he hoped that it was all some sort of miscommunication. Sure, he wanted to reconnect with his estranged wife, but… That’s what they were: estranged childhood sweethearts that grew apart. Along with their love, their relationship changed. Things weren’t something he could fix, and his old flame knew that too. But he hoped more than anything they could sort through their differences and still be at least friends.
Of course you didn’t know. There was no way for you to know, or have known his true intentions. Like everything else he tried to bury deep down, you were fading from his life. Chilchuck couldn’t seem to let this one go, to let you go.
So he chased after you. For once in his life, he decided to not swallow these feelings down. He knew there was only so much he could bury, only so much he’d want to bury. You didn’t deserve that, and he needed you to give him those smiles again. To give him those gazes full of adoration and those tender but fleeting touches…
You didn’t pull your hand out of his immediately. Instead, when he called your name again this time, you turned. Chilchuck swallowed.
“Why are you avoiding me?”
Surely there was a better thing to ask at this moment, but your lip quivered nonetheless. A deep sigh leaving you, your gaze met with the floor again.
“…So it’d stop hurting.” Was all you replied, the weight of those words knocking the air out of him. He opened his mouth to speak, but you raised a hand to silence him.
“This is for the best... I hope you understand.” Your voice used to never sound so broken. It was soft in a way that he’d never heard before. You had truly given up on this, and he can’t say he blames you. He’d have given up on himself, too.
But he can’t let himself fall into that same cycle of self-pity. Not again, he assured himself, reaching up to grab a fist full of your top and pulling you down to meet his eyes. “Let me explain this to you. Please. I… I’m not going back to her because of the reason you think.” Chilchuck hadn’t heard himself this pleading in so long. He felt pitiful, and he suddenly remembered why he doesn’t like being vulnerable.
You couldn’t stop your head from nodding a yes to his request, that spark of hope trying to ignite once again in your chest. Trying to snuff it out, you waited patiently for him to continue.
And so he did. Baring it all to you, he decided this would be another step towards being more open with himself. Maybe you’d see him as pathetic for this, but he tried to piece the words together as congruent as possible. The feelings he had for her distinguished with the years spent apart and even some of the time spent together. This whole time he’s been sure that he just wanted to right the wrongs he did, and move on. Hopefully with you, when all this was over.
Of course you said yes. You listened, and with every word that left him, the flame within you rekindled. You weren’t sure what to say for a moment, besides giving a light laugh in relief. Even Chilchuck exhaled a brisk chuckle, scratching the back of his head in nervous habit. He’s not sure he could ever get used to this whole “telling your true feelings” thing.
But for you, he’d try.
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— dividers by @/cafekitsune!! <333
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literary-motif · 3 days
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andrew nsfw pls :>
Migraine (NSFW)
Andrew Marston x Reader
Andrew knows an unconventional way to help you with your migraine.
The pressure in your forehead makes it nearly impossible to focus on the words in front of you. The page is blurry, the black ink morphing together until it is nothing but an indecipherable mass of something vaguely resembling letters. You pause, pinching the bridge of your nose in annoyance and downing another glass of water. Migraine auras are a new experience, one that you do not like at all.
Despite the headache you had woken up with, you did not dare take a day off when the amount of manuscripts on your desk had made you feel on edge for a few days now. You couldn't afford to take a break, could not risk falling further behind than you already were. The thought alone was enough to make you sit down at the desk, pain be damned. The stress of being behind schedule was so much worse anyway.
Pushing through it with a few extra drinks of water and curtains half-closed had not been a good idea.
The mediocre headache keeps getting worse, pain making it hard to think clearly. With the letters swimming in your vision, it is impossible to get any work done, and the sheer annoyance you feel at being unable to complete your work makes you want to scream in frustration.
There is nothing left to do but wait, find some relief from it, and perhaps you could get back to work in a few hours. If you managed to get rid of the migraine, that is.
Water, contrary to popular belief, does not fix everything. Acupuncture did not work for you, and stretching left you dizzy.
You massage the muscles in your neck, stiff from being hunched over your desk all day. A hot shower would be perfect to sooth your aching muscles and get rid of the tension, but the prospect of getting up and going through the motions feels like it costs an overwhelming amount of energy, so you stay put.
“Darling, I found that tea you liked at the store!” 
Andrew’s call makes you hiss, burying your face in your hands as a sharp stab of pain shoots through your head. The reply to his happy exclamation dies on your tongue as you squeeze your eyes shut and just breathe through it.
“Darling?” Andrew knocks softly against the half-open door, hesitating at your silence. “What is it?” he asks in light voice.
“I’m fine,” you whisper in response, raising your head but keeping your eyes shut. You reach out your hand, finding his immediately to give it a reassuring squeeze. “Could you draw the curtains properly, please?”
The chaste kiss against your skin is all the answer you get as Andrew moves to darken the room. You sigh in relief, blinking your eyes open slowly. 
Light is still faintly streaming in from the open door, and the curtains do not block out the rays of shining sun entirely, but the gentle darkness makes you feel tenfold more comfortable already.
“Headache?” Andrew asks, standing beside you to offer his hand to you. Taking it, you allow him to guide you towards the bed. “Are you alright? Do you need anything?” 
His whispers of concern, while not unusual, still cause warmth to spread across your chest, and a small smile appears on your face at the evidence of his infinite care and love for you.
“Fine,” you murmur, sinking into the mattress and rolling over to lie on your back, patting the space beside you in silent invitation.
Andrew hesitates, and you can clearly see the gears turning in his head, his beautiful mind trying to come up with ideas to help you, ways to ease your discomfort.
“Just stay here with me,” you say, "that's all I need, honestly. If you're not busy, that is."
He huffs, lying down beside you and opening his arms for you to nuzzle against his chest. "I'm never busy when you need me, darling," he assures you, his hand tenderly running through your hair and massaging your scalp. "Is this alright?"
You hum, melting under his touch. Although it does not help to lessen the pain, the care Andrew pours into his caresses is soothing, making you drift in his arms.
After a while Andrew sighs, pressing feather-light kisses against your forehead. "Has it improved at all?”
“No,” you answer honestly. 
Andrew pauses in contemplation again. “You know,” he begins, “I read somewhere that, well— just in case you’re up for it, of course" — Andrew hesitates — "I read that orgasms can be a relief for headaches. If— if you would like to try it out, I could assist you."
You chuckle at his nervousness, wincing in pain a moment later. "Where did you read that?" you ask exhausted, not oppose to giving it a try.
“I looked into how to treat headaches since you get them so often,” Andrew explains casually as if his words don't make your hear swell with appreciation, nearly bringing tears to your eyes from how much he cares. “I want to help. Last time, you did not want a massage, so I thought an orgasm might be the next best thing to relax you, but it is just a suggestion, as I said. The decision is yours, of course. There is no pressure, darling. We could try a heating pad instead?”
You smile, brushing your hand across his cheek before resting it against the back of his head and pulling him in for a kiss. Nobody has ever made you feel so loved.
He sighs in contentment at the feeling of your lips on his, tilting his head to deepen the kiss.
"I like your first suggestion better," you say, unhurriedly returning to meeting Andrew's soft lips. "But only if you'd like to. I don't want you to feel obligated just because you want to help me."
"I would love to, darling," Andrew murmurs, shifting to disentangle himself from your embrace. "Taking care of you is never a chore. You know I love doing it."
His palms caress your hips, roaming over your thighs before his fingers work to undo your pants. You shrug out of them with his help, releasing a small moan in anticipation.
Andrew rolls to the side of the bed and pulls out a bottle of lube from the bedside drawer. He positions himself between your spread legs, resting his fingers on the hem of your undergarments for a moment, silently asking for permission to remove them.
“Go ahead,” you whisper, closing your eyes and allowing your body to relax, knowing Andrew will take care of you. With a kiss against the inside of your thigh, he pulls them down, exposing you to him. 
It does not take him nearly as long as usual to push his fingers inside you. “It’s the orgasm that helps,” he murmurs, softly kissing your stomach as he picks up the pace. “I don’t want you to suffer if I can prevent it.”
Normally, he would have you begging to be fucked before he even unbuttoned your pants, endlessly teasing you because he knew how much you loved it when he took his time , caressing every inch of you and showering you with kisses as you saw the overflowing adoration in his eyes when he glanced up from between your legs.
You chuckle at his sweetness, thankful that he does not feel the need to tease you too much today. The rhythm of his fingers is gentle, working you open and brushing against spots that have quiet moans tumbling from your lips.
“You feel so good,” you whisper in a near whine, arching your back. Through half-lidded eyes, you can see Andrew's sly smile. The pleasure twisting in your core choked back any witty remark. His fingers curl a bit more, making your breath hitch.
"Right here, darling?" he asks, noticing your squirming. You whine, immediately regretting it as stabbing pain shoots through your head again, making you groan instead. His teasing tone fades into one of soothing sincerity, "Relax, I've got you." Andrew slows down, giving you a moment to catch your breath.
“I thought you didn’t want to drag this out?”
“I also don’t want to hurt you,” he answers quietly, slowly picking up the pace again, angling his fingers just right. “Tell me if I’m going too fast. I don’t want to pound you too hard.”
You exhale, getting lost in the pleasure building steadily. “God, if I didn’t have a migraine I would let you rail me into next week.”
Andrew sputters at your words for a long moment and you can clearly picture his flustered face as he leans down to place his lips against your hips, muffling his moan.
“If you keep— ah— right there,” you gasp as he increases the pressure on that sensitive spot, leaving you breathless.
“Are you close?” Andrew asks, the grip you have on his hair tightening as your thighs begin to shake. He keeps going, adamant to have you reach your high. “Come for me when you're ready, darling," he whispers, trailing kisses over your skin, "Whenever you're ready."
As you succumb to the building feeling, the pain in your head is overshadowed by the pleasure dragging you under as Andrew rides out your high, only ceasing when oversensitivity makes you shudder.
"Is it any better?" he asks, lying down next to you. "How are you feeling?"
"Good. It's slightly better," you answer, placing a tender kiss against his forehead, "Thank you, Andrew."
“You know there is nothing I like more than helping you, darling. How about a shower now?”
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dipdoodlesamuel · 7 months
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Wool Over Our Eyes fueled me an unbelievable amount
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sixcalibur · 1 month
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Kitty Casey!
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HELLO to Gilgameshians over on Discord, I was your @runefactorysecretsanta this year~ I saw you liked Raven/Micah, so hopefully you can enjoy two of our favorite shifters having a nice afternoon by the water~♥
[ If you see a friend request from someone with a cat avatar, that's me, sending you this thing's full resolution♥ ]
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Okay but like I really need to rant about this a bit so like spoilers for ep 3 of tlou below but like
idk I’ve never played the game so I had no idea what to expect going into this, but when Frank showed up, I was like “I can’t tell if Bill is going to kill him or marry him.” WELL. Nick Offerman did such a GOOD job of looking on guard and uncomfortable. His shoulders are like up to his ears the entire meeting sequence and it made me so jumpy, and then we skip 3 years and he’s so visibly relaxed. And my heart started to melt. And I found myself so enamored with these two men who, against all odds, found love in a situation where that should have been impossible. Frank was the last alive from a group fleeing a collapsed quarantine zone, Bill a preper who had decided to be alone long before the pandemic even started. We expect Bill to die the whole time--comments about him getting old faster than Frank, getting shot by raiders. The jump to Frank being sick...they showed so much through his paintings. You weren’t expecting it, and they showed you through his art how his illness has been progressing, and how him being able to see that himself affected him. They showed how Bill broke down and made a deal with Joel to get medicine despite saying he never would. This show. THIS SHOW. I was sobbing up until Bill became weirdly calm during the dinner, because I realized he’d made the decision too. They died on their own terms in a world where that had become nearly impossible. They had a beautiful life together in a world where that had become a pipe dream. Two characters that we never even meet thru the main characters, not in the present day, but who matter so much.
#also i have a lot of feelings as a chronically ill artist about everything with Frank (not bad ones! just like i feel a lot 🥲)#it hit close to home#honestly bill resonated with me too but not bc of the preper conspiracy theorist part lol#more bc of the self-imposed solitude and not seeking out relationships#i know from other posts that this is nothing like how they were in the game but this seems like such an improvement tbh#like this episode deserves awards for how much it hit me in the feels#tlou hbo spoilers#the last of us spoilers#it's 5 am so like i am not coherent but i also cannot sleep#idk how we got my horror-hating mom hooked on this show and now we're making her sob over gay romance like#that right there tells you this show is good lol#i feel like i could write an entire book on how illness can impact art and handwriting#my handwriting became that of an entirely different person when i started to get sick#my drawings changed too#tho maybe not in a way anyone but me noticed#my friend who has a similar health issue just with more presentation had to give up art almost entirely#idk it's a kind of hard i can't explain and that i dont think you can understand unless you've experienced it yourself#seeing the progression of your symptoms in the things you create#seeing how you're unable to hide it even with care#idk man#it's honestly an emotion i dont think i could name#but i feel it so strongly every time i look at more than a few lines i've written by hand#or at a page of studies ive drawn#i feel like they never made frank a tragic character. they never made illness tragic#they just made it real#the tragic theme was the idea of one without the other and it went both ways#they hit on that repeatedly throughout the ep#and in the end they didn’t have to face that tragedy#idk i feel like it’s one of the few depictions of chronic illness/terminal illness ive seen that doesn’t play the illness as tragedy#and i found that…refreshing
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chisatowo · 2 years
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Headshots of the adult half of the main protags in this story
#keese draws#oc art#ocs#furry#furry art#oc posting#the first guy doesnt have a name yet I have like no ideas tbh#I might try giving him horns while Im still working out their design#she uses he/they/she prns btw and shes also ramp's roomate they both go to the same art college#I decided to make them a mix between ox and prairie dog#hes also one of melody's exes from their teen years but theyre not on band terms since they never rly planned on being a long term thing#that being said since melody sorta just left without warning one day she doesnt rly know what happened to him after he left#it didnt come as much of a surprise since melody had always desperately wanted out of their town but she still worries abt their fate#which makes sense since only abt a year before that another one of their close friends just sorta dissapeared too#the two dont reunite until ramp gets cursed then comes back and is like oh I should introduce my new bf to my roomate :)#so now our dear old ramp roomate gets to not only reunite with a friend she assumed to be doomed to die along with their missing ex#so very emotional day for him lol#honestly ramp is the one who is the most awkward abt the revelation that their roomate and bf are exes the other two are very chill abt it#ramp is mostly just worried abt how their roomate feels abt it since they didnt want it to look like theyre passing her up for melody#the two of them used to flirt a bit and played around with the idea of dating but ended up deciding against it#mainly because ramp was still working through some Issues in regards to relationships
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boyfhee · 2 months
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박성훈 、SECRET NEVER KEPT
sunghoon likes getting detentions.
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featuring ⋆ rich boy! sunghoon x fem reader, highschool au
contents ⋆ kissing, suggestive i mean you can say this went out of hand a little...sunghoon is crazy guys don't try this at school ( 0.78k )
notes ⋆ another rich boy hoon bc it's always on my mind. they should cast him in a drama and make him third gen chaebol heir idk. btw this one is for @atrirose
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sunghoon’s lips curl into a subtle smile when he heard footsteps coming towards the classroom. he knows it’s you, he knows your pace, way too familiar with you to not even recognise the faint humming echoing in the hallways.
he chuckles, his smile growing wider as he pushes one of the desks aside. he shakes his head at how easily you make him smile, and you aren’t even in the room. the melody you’re humming gets a bit clearer, and he turns towards the door as you slide it open.
“detention again?” you tease, leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed. it’s unfathomable how giddy he looks after getting detention. “it’s pleasing to watch the mayor’s son sweeping the tiles,”
“just a little charity work for school,” he hums jokingly with a shrug, and then he looks up at you, his eyes are soft and just a tad bit crinkled at the edges and his smile is sweet as if an invitation to come and kiss him. 
not a whiff of what happens at school reaches his parents because he knows his dad will have anyone who dares point fingers at him lose their job. while his mother is more inclined towards him trying to lay low and mixing into the general public, sunghoon can’t help but stand out. 
he likes attention.
he likes it when people talk about him when he walks down the hallways, or when you wink at him from across the room. he liked it when you visited him when he had gotten detention for the very first time, and it’s a routine now. you stay after school for extra lessons and he hates not being able to sneak in a few kisses with you in the storage after school ends. fortunately, detention gives him the perfect excuse to stay.
“charity is nice but this—” you say, pointing at the mop and bucket, walking towards him as he carefully holds your hand so that you don’t slip over the wet tiles. “— doesn’t suit your pretty face.”
and sunghoon laughs, sitting on one of the chairs around, pulling you on his lap. your arms wrap around his shoulders out of habit, and he can’t help but swoon at the way your gaze rests on his lips for a fraction of a second before going back to his eyes. “well you win some and you lose some,” 
and he doesn’t really care, honestly. with hands that are made to caress your cheeks and hold you close, he doesn’t really mind if they’re occupied with mopping the floors. just the same way he doesn’t care if his father hears about you and him. with elections ‘round the corner, he will be furious to see his dear son dating the daughter of the opposition. 
but when has sunghoon ever cared about what others have to say about you?
“you know, anyone could walk in right now,” you warn quietly, although your actions are contradicting your words as you tilt your head a little, giving him an easier access as he presses his lips against your neck, leaving a trail of slow kisses down and then to your jaw.
he pulls away slightly, taking in the fragrance of your perfume— it’s the one he had gifted you on your birthday, and he likes how irresistible it makes you, as if you aren’t already. “the whole building’s empty,”
“the guards take rounds after school,”
“well, no one will come. and if they do,” he gently tucks your hair behind your ear, fingers drawing random patterns on your thighs, and you can feel your cheeks heat up as he slides his hand a bit further up. “we can put on a little show for them,”
“hoon—” he doesn’t let you say much, simply cutting you off with a kiss. most of the time, it doesn’t fall upon him to be the responsible one in the relationship, but you’re not any better with the way you pull him closer, fingers lost in his locks. you huff and his arms move up to your waist, and you pull him closer, kissing him deeper— a clear confirmation that you’re into this just as much as him.
and it does end up this way, most of the time. you on his lap, his arms around your waist and yours around his neck, lips together, in the empty classrooms or storage, under the staircase— sunghoon doesn’t care if someone sees. it’s least of his concerns when you’re with him. sunghoon falls first, he falls hard. everyone knows it, it has never been a secret. 
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madschiavelique · 9 months
Note
plEase can you do “i won’t fit” “i will make it fit” with miguel 🥺👉🏻👈🏻
anon you know WHAT IS UPPPP
i tried my best writing this but i hurt my wrist and kinda had to hurry up bc i have to got to a party but i still hope it's good dzekzdfgfd not proofread by the way so MY BAD)
summary : miguel is big, so big, too big
content warnings : SMUT (18+) minors dni, mentions of oral sex (reader receiving), pnv sex, unprotected sexe (stay safe kids), lots of praise, overstimulation (?), no use of Y/N, fem!reader, size kink word count : 1,1k
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He kissed and bit the inner skin of your vibrant thighs as he drew his lips in a trail of pecks up to your temple, kissing it tenderly, caressing your cheek softly as your body recovered from the orgasm he'd just had. That was already two, and he'd been at it for at least 40 minutes, or more, or less... Honestly, you were so disorientated by the pleasure that you didn't know what space-time was any more.
He loved taking his time, devouring you, going knuckles deep into you and relaxing you for him, hearing you moan soft whimpers as he ran his tongue over your throbbing clit, maintaining eye contact. And now he wanted to take it to the next level.
He came to kiss your lips, and you tasted yourself as he placed his cock in front of your cunt, sliding over your still sensitive clit, drawing a moan from you which he swallowed with his ever hungry lips.
"Miguel," you breathed between kisses, drunk on the sensations, "'s too big," you swallowed as his hand gripped your thigh firmly to give him room and his lips nuzzled your neck. "It won't fit," you assured him.
Just taking his dick in hand was complicated for the simple reason that you couldn't get your thumb to touch your other fingers with your hand, so inside you? No, impossible.
And that inflated his ego, a mean little growl raising his face in a sneer as one of his canines revealed itself between his lips.
"I'll make it fit," he reassured, stroking your hair as he came to kiss your cheek, "i'm sure you can take it, cariño."
He drowned you in kisses as you felt his dick tracing up and down your lips, coating himself in your wetness, one of your hands coming to rest on his back and the other on his tense arm.
"Fuck," he breathed, his breath ghosting over your skin, "you're so wet."
You let a gasp escape you as he began to press his tip between your lips, a low growl escaping his mouth and falling in a warm cloud onto your skin. The tip alone was huge, and you breathed in deeply as he continued to press in slowly, his lips coming to kiss your forehead in encouragement.
"I can't go further if you tense like that, querida." he came to kiss your lips, his hand gently sliding down your body, settling on your waist where his thumb made circular movements.
"I can't," you complained, tears welling up in your eyes as you pressed your eyelids strongly together.
"You can do this," he murmured, kissing the corner of your eyelids tenderly, "mi linda dulce."
You inhaled softly, and then tried to relax, closing your eyes and biting your lip as he thrust deeper into you.
"That's it," he encouraged softly, "that's my girl."
His praise made you flutter around him, an appreciative moan rising from his throat as he finally got all the way inside you.
You tilted your head back, breathing shakily as he kissed your neck with tenderness.
"Que bien lo haces," he said, his fingers gently replacing a loose strand of your hair, "taking me so well."
He began to pull away, then gently slid back in, Miguel immediately swallowing your moan. You owed it to him; he had the right to drink in the magnificent sounds he was making you create.
He gently created a slow rhythm, not wanting to rush you while you were still getting used to him.
"Hmm," he hummed against your ear, "you're so tight," he nibbled gently on your lobe.
You were slowly, though not easily, getting used to his width, your moans of ease vibrating softly in your chest as you pressed your teeth hard into the bulging, kiss-swollen skin of your lips.
"Tt-tt," he denied, coming to run his tongue over your lips to loosen the grip your teeth had on it. "I want to hear."
He came to kiss you, your whines pouring into his mouth, he swallowed them all without exception. He moved slightly away from your lips, letting your sighs of ease and whimpers take the air and he reveled in the melody you were offering him.
"Eso es," he approved, straightening as he raised your hips properly, contemplating the mess that you were for him, and he traced a line with his fingers from the valley of your breasts to your navel where he pressed lightly.
You arched your back, your breath quavering a complaint as you tightened around him. He groaned at the sensation, and he saw it, the little bulge he formed in your lower belly, his fingers tracing it down. A flash passed through his eyes as he picked up the pace, the moans escaping from between your lips intensifying. The mere idea that he was the one to make you feel so good made him feral.
"It's..." you stammered, breathless, "it's too much!"
But he continued at his own pace, the hot knot in your lower belly beginning to tighten, your nails leaving crescent moons in the skin of his arm and pink streaks down his back. He was enjoying the sight immensely.
"Mírame," he whispered, wishing he could see the extent of your desire and pleasure in your eyes.
He leaned down again, his hand coming to rest soothingly on your cheek and caressing it with his thumb as his other hand moved down between your two bodies to make circular movements over your clit, more moans escaping from your lips.
"Mírame, cariño," he asked as your eyes slowly opened, wet with tears from all the sensations that were sparkling in your body.
"Tan linda."
He kissed you hungrily, drinking in your skin and your lips, then planted a trail of kisses on your cheek, running down your jaw and biting and marking your neck, his rhythm accelerating.
You could feel the cloud in your belly spreading, the knot tightening.
"Miguel...," you moaned, "I'm..." the words were interspersed with cries, "I'm-"
"Shh," he soothed, stroking your hair as he kissed your cheek, "It's okay, go on."
Your breathing quickened, shuddering, until the orgasm burst within you, your back arching as your clit seemed to beat like a second heart, spreading shockwaves through every inch and vein of your body, your walls closing powerfully around Miguel as he bit into your skin with a groan.
Your back rested on the sheet, breathless, as if on a cloud, feeling like you were floating in softness. Miguel kissed your temple affectionately, then your tear-drenched eyelids.
"You did amazing, querida", he said, pressing you carefully against him as he caressed you, whispering sweet nothings to you to soften you up after all that emotion.
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yasminebahng · 2 months
Text
skz and how they give you physical affection
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notes: some fluff for yall after the angst of my last post ;) was waiting for my lecture to start and suddenly started thinking... how do the boys love to show their affection physically? then started day dreaming and yeah.. enjoy! cw: reader x ot8, mentions of kissing, mentions of showering/bathing together, gn reader
‧₊˚ ✩°。⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆。°✩˚₊‧‧₊˚ ✩°。⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆。°✩˚₊‧‧₊˚ ✩°。⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡
Chan: Resting on you
God knows this man needs a break. When he's exhausted after dance practice or doing interviews all day, the only comfort he can find is in you. He'll trudge over to you, head bowed down, his eyes droopy with sleep and just collapse into your open arms. This happens very frequently actually. When he's working on music, he'll bring his laptop with him while he lays on your chest. He knows he cant be around all the time, and when he is around he's usually busy, so he's grateful that you embrace him while working (I mean, he needs some lovin too.) He'll let you know its time for bed by kissing your arm that's usually resting on his chest or playing with his curls. The rest of the night is spent with cuddles and giggles.
Lee Know: Tracing his fingers on your skin
Lee Know is notorious for avoiding skinship. Out of respect for him, you allow him to initiate it most of the time. Whether it be kisses, hugs, or cuddles, you let him take the reigns. Except for when you ask when you're feeling needy, most of the time he will oblige. So whenever he doesn't really want to kiss or hug, he will draw figures or words on any exposed skin. You find that he does it subconsciously when you both watch movies on the couch or are falling asleep in bed. That's actually the way he told you he loves you the first time. He traced the words on your arm while you spoke, thinking you wouldn't catch it. But you did. You always paid attention when he did that. So you picked up his palm, making eye contact with him the whole time, and traced the words back. The whole day was spent with kisses and arm doodles.
Changbin: Bear hugs
Binnie is so touchy in general but his personal favorite in his artillery, are huge hugs. Whenever you guys go out on a date, he'll wrap his arms around your shoulders and waddle behind you. Even when you watch him at dance practice, during breaks he'll chase you around and hug you (much to your dismay, since he's all sweaty.) He loves encasing you and knowing you're safe with him as much as you love the warmth of his embrace. He'll squeeze you so tightly, honestly to the point of suffocating. Whenever you return the favor, he melts. Feeling your arms around him is the greatest comfort, especially when he's had a really hard day.
Hyunjin: Hand worship
Having hands on the larger side, Hyunjin loves looking and feeling your smaller ones in his own. He'll make fun of you sometimes, calling them baby hands even though they're a normal size but I digress. Sometimes when he paints, he'll turn to you and ask for your hand to hold. You smile at him and give it to him and he'll bring it to his lips before intertwining his fingers with your own. If he's feeling especially playful, he will start to paint on it. Landscapes, flowers, even Jiniret. It feels so intimate when your fingers dance around together, exploring each other.
Han: Kisses
This man has some juicy lips and he is not afraid to use them. He will find any excuse to kiss you. ANY. "Aw, you had a bad day? Here, my lips will cure you." "Oh! You had an amazing day? Let's make it a better one." Before he showers your face and neck and shoulders with kisses. His personal favorite place to kiss you is your forehead. He'll rest his head against yours and find your lips, slowly molding them together. Then, after a dizzying and heart melting kiss, he'll leave a trail of them until he finds his lips on your head. You'll close your eyes, savoring the warmth of his body pressed against yours. One time, his kissed your head for so long it left a hickey on there. When he pulled away and saw the angry purple mark, he collapsed on the floor laughing and you looked at him like he was crazy. Until you found a mirror. And you became the crazy one. He did not kiss your head for a while after that.
Felix: Massages
After a long, exhausting day at work, all you want to do is go home, shower, and cry. Thankfully, your caring boyfriend has better plans. Felix loves doing acts of service. If he knows you're not in high spirits he will take your bags at the door, help you take your shoes off, and run a bath for you while you grab yourself something to drink. You'll walk into the bathroom that's thick with steam and see that the candles on the tub are lit and Felix is hunched over, checking the temperature of the water. He'll help you change out of your clothes and lower you into the tub. He has bought several lotions and oils because he loves massaging you so much. He'll spread it over your shoulders and squeeze softly but firmly. You melt. He will hear your words of approval and feel so giddy that he's helping you and relieving some of your stress. Eventually he will move down to your arms, your legs, your feet. Any part of you he can massage he will. It's as enjoyable for him as it is for you and he loves that he can show his love for you this way.
Seungmin: Spooning
This man is a fiend for cuddles. He will jump at any opportunity to cuddle with you. Whenever he wraps up singing at the recording studio, he will get out of the booth and run to your spot on the couch and pull you into his arms. You try to scold him sometimes, since one or two of the members are usually there, but they don't seem to mind at all. You don't really either. You love feeling his arms around your stomach and your legs tangled together. He will fall asleep sometimes and whenever you'd attempt to get up, his grip tightens and you admit defeat. Don't tell anyone this, but whenever you guys are alone, most of the time he's the little spoon. He loves how you hitch your leg over his hip and have your arm under him (it falls asleep most of the time but you never move or tell him.) He feels safest in your arms.
I.N: Playing with your hair
He discovered how much he loved playing with your hair when you guys were on a picnic date in a field. Your head was in his lap and you were nearly asleep. He was staring down at you and began to stroke your hair and scratch at your scalp. You hummed in approval and it was lights out. After seeing how much peace it brought you, he would always be playing with it. Twirling it between his fingers, asking if he can help apply products, even washing it for you when you guys would shower. He did it for you initially, but then it became his favorite thing in the world. Some days you'd let him tie it into weird styles and with weird hair ties. Some with bows, or beads, or wonky colors. He'd find himself kissing it before bed every night and you could cry at how loved you felt in those moments.
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roolette · 4 months
Text
How Mk1 Men Fuck You
CW: NSFW, gn!reader
Bi-Han is just mean about it, frankly. Teasing you, never exactly hitting the spot you need him to, close enough to feel it, but not enough to really do much. And don't bother begging with him. He'll just roll his eyes and scoff, wiping the tears from your eyes with his thumb and not doing anything to give you release.
"I've barely touched you... how are you that desperate already? Honestly, it's ridiculous. You'll get what you want, just be quiet."
When he finally fucks you, it's at a relentless pace, holding your hips in place as he thrusts into you. He's stopped the teasing now, and is wholly focused on making you fall apart in his arms.
Tomas just wants to make you happy. He begs to taste you, to let him touch you where he wants to. He whines at the slightest touch from you, and you both know that you're the only one who can elicit these reactions from him. He could spend forever between your thighs, seriously, he'd die happy there. He'll run his hands up and down your thighs while he gives you head, he has to be touching you.
"Ahh... you look so... like this, I mean- don't tease me! I'll come up with a good description, just... let me have this."
PLEASE hold his jaw and make him look at you while you ride him. Remind him that he's yours, and he'll practically melt. He'll likely be the more vocal out of the two of you, babbling about how good you feel.
Kuai Liang is possessive in bed, but how can you blame him? It's the place where you're his, completely. And maybe this is just me being insane over that skin where his hair is up, but but he likes when you pull his hair while he fucks into you. You can also run your nails along his back, and good luck to anyone who comments on it. He's yours, and you're his, and he wants sex with you to be a reminder of that. He likes being able to look at you while he fucks you, especially those lovely expressions you make.
"No, don't look away. Keep your eyes on me. I don't want to miss a second of this."
You didn't initially expect him to be so open with his feelings in bed, but he likes to be vulnerable with you. He feels safe with you, and he doesn't have to be anyone but yours.
When it comes to fast and hard, it's Johnny Cage. Sex with him is always so energetic, and you have to wonder where that energy comes from. Admittedly, it took some time in the relationship for him to be intimate or slow with you, but you got there. Even then, he just likes sex to be fun. He'll crack jokes, tease you, or randomly bite you when you're least expecting it. He'll thrust up into you while you ride him, just to be a dick and throw you off balance. Have I mentioned he's a brat? Because he's a brat.
"So. You come here often? Well, you're about to, and- hey, ow! I'm supposed to be on camera, you know."
When he's intimate and slow, though, he really is. He'll whisper praises in your ear, words so genuine that it makes you blush more than the things he's doing to you. Everything he's too afraid to say sometimes, it all falls apart when you're in his arms.
I'm SICK and TIRED of people saying that Raiden doesn't know anything about sex, etc. He is loving, tender, and occasionally giggly. He sees sex as another way to be near you and show you how much he loves you. He'll kiss you all over while he's inside you, and he loves to praise you. He likes to fuck you with you in his lap and your legs wrapped around his waist. It's perfect, really. He can go deep inside you and look at you at the same time.
"You look so perfect like this. I'll move, love, I promise, just let me watch you for a moment."
He can make you cum fast, but he chooses not to. He likes to draw out your pleasure. Less to tease, and more to make it last as long as possible. He wants to fall apart with you.
Kenshi is going to make you cum on his fingers before he even thinks about fucking you. He's infuriatingly good at it, too. He'll leave you gasping and moaning just from his fingers, and he can't help but smile smugly about it, which only makes it more frustrating. You can beg him to fuck you, but it won't work. That's happening when he decides to, and not a moment sooner. So you may as well get used to cumming on his fingers.
"You're seriously still begging? C'mon, you know it's not going to work. Still, it's nice hearing you like this."
When he finally fucks you, it's slow and rough, going as deep as possible with each stroke. He'll wrap his arms around you while he does, face pressed against your shoulders, muttering praises and teasing words against your skin.
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lovifie · 3 months
Text
Lift Me Off My Feet
Chapter 2: Captain’s Dinner
Masterlist
Original Thought - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11 - Part 12
Warning/Notes: Captain Price x Reader (on this chapter only, the poly 141 is still building), Oral sex (F receiver), a bit nasty
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The rest of the drive goes by in a breath, suspiciously, Simon didn't step on any more bumps, and it felt like being rocking a baby. Kyle got his hand inside your shirt, but as nasty as your acts before, now his hand was just innocently caressing your back, keeping you calm and pliant against him.
At some point, the car stops and you hear Simon talk with someone outside of the car.
“Go ahead, Lieutenant.”
The car moves again but for short this time. And just after a minute or two, the car stops and Simon turns off the engine. Everyone begins to exit the car, Kyle included with you in his arms. You notice people walking around, not too close but enough to see you, and you start to feel self-aware of the fact that you are being carried like a baby by the Sergeant.
“Can you put me down? I want to walk.” You say squirming a bit in the Sergeant’s arms.
“It's faster this way actually, doll.” He responds giving you a quick smile.
“At least put me on your back, it feels weird not seeing where we going.” You say turning your head around as much as you can.
Kyle snickers, making you turn to him with your eyebrows furrowed. “Doll, I actually would be really glad if you let me carry you like this the rest of the way because like this I can hide the fact that I came on my pants like a teenager.”
“Oh.” That's all you managed to say as you feel your cheek blushing. You can definitely feel your panties sticking to your pussy, but he must definitely feel his underwear hardening.
“Soap, Ghost, we will tomorrow at 0700 for a debriefing of today's events. Go rest now. Kyle, come into my office so we can find the key and free our little birdie.” Price orders behind you, relief flowing through your veins at the thought of being free.
Kyle enters the room, Price’s office by logic, and sits you on a desk. And once you are seated, he raises his arm and crouches down getting out of the weird knot of limbs.
He stands before you, free, as you look at him dumbfounded, still cuffed.
“H-how… You could do that?!” You ask looking at him. “I thought you didn't fit, that's why you haven't got out! You could do that?!”
Kyle simply chuckles at you while he adjusts his pants quickly and drops a peck on your forehead whispering against your skin. “Sorry, luv. But it was just too comfortable.” He turns to Price, announcing he is going to take a shower and leaves the room sending you a wink right before closing the door.
You turn to Price, looking a bit shocked still and he picks the key from the drawer at his desk. “Sorry about him, he is a good lad. Hope you were not uncomfortable, right?” He asks as he walks up to you, you put your hands together expecting him to unlock the cuffs, but instead, his hands travel to the back of your tights and he picks you up forcing you to put your hands around his shoulder (almost strangling him for a second before you remember to move your hands above his head)
You let him be, too tired already to fight anymore, and he sits you on the other side of the desk. In front of his chair, once you are seated, he sits on his chair and gets between your legs.
The sight in front of you shouldn't be allowed, broad shoulders making you physically spread your legs to accommodate him, blue eyes looking up at you and warm hands picking yours. “Let's take these off, yeah?”
“Yes, please.” You whisper back, not even sure what you are begging for.
Price takes the cuffs back, furrowing when he sees the red mark where the metal dented into your soft skin. He caresses both wrists drawing circles and then one of them goes higher on your arm up to the bandages. “How's the pain?” He asks looking at your arm.
“Hm? Oh, that… honestly, I always thought bullet wounds would hurt a lot more. It's not too bad, I almost had forgotten about it.” You say smiling back at him.
He chuckles back shaking his head. “I'm definitely having you give a pep talk to the rookies. Sorry about your blouse, as well. I'll pay for a new one.” He says caressing your arm.
“Oh, there is no need, really. This is an old one, I should have thrown it out a bit ago anyway.” You admit shaking your hands to let him know there is no need.
“I insist. And if you get any medical bills, or need any physiotherapy sessions or anything. We will pay for them, we'll take care of you, doll.” He says standing up to his full height still between your legs.
“You keep saying that…”
“What do you mean?”
“That you will take care of me.”
“Yes. We will if you allow us.”
You look at his face, trying to decipher what he means. But the intensity of his gaze pulls the air out of your lungs leaving you breathless, the heat from his body is scorching against you and the ground seems so far away you feel like you falling off a cliff.
“Are you okay, doll?” He asks softly looking to meet your gaze again cupping your face.
“Yeah.” You say softly pulling his hand away and you put a hand on his chest pushing him back. “I-I should get going, I have work in the morning it's better if I get back home.”
“You can stay the night if you want, I'll drive you to work tomorrow.” He quickly responds like he doesn't want you to go.
“Capt- John.” You correct yourself earning a smile from him. “John, I need to shower, and I don't have any clean clothes, really you have done more than enough for me, I will just go home.”
You stay looking at him, waiting for him to move back so you can hop off the desk and get out. But he doesn't, instead, he gets closer and moves both hands to cup your face making you look at him. “You are thinking too hard, doll.”
And then, as natural as it is to blink, he kisses you.
A soft peck right on the corner of your mouth to test the waters, a soft peck on the other side, and then, softly, almost like melting at the touch, a kiss right to the centre of your lips.
He moves slightly back, enough to be able to speak and ask. “You solid?”
And you nod.
You are not even a hundred per cent sure you know what he means, but you know that whatever the man in front of you would ask, you would say yes.
You shouldn't, you don't know him. You only know his name and his position as Captain. You know your mind is not clear, right now he is your saviour, he is been taking care of you since you met, and he is so strong, so gentle with you, so handsome.
You shouldn't be leaning in for another kiss, but you are.
There is always tomorrow for regrets.
But tonight, all your senses scream John Price.
Never did you though a kiss could get you so hot and bothered, he only has his hands on your face and his lips on yours and you are already panting.
He moves forward, hips crashing onto yours making you gasp and he uses the opportunity to get his tongue on your mouth.
You can taste the tobacco on his tongue, swimming down your body. His hands move, taking your hair back into a ponytail and he pulls back. It stings and you groan softly, shifting to a moan when you feel his lips down your throat.
His moustache tickles the soft skin of your neck in contrast with the scorching feeling of his breath. “Who beat me to it?” He asks, chuckling drily looking at something on your neck.
Fucking Kyle.
“Better to erase it, doll.” He says, possessiveness taking over him. And there are no more soft kisses, now he makes out, no, he devours your neck like a madman. Sucking and biting, feeling the mark erupt and your panties to grow wetter.
You bite your lip to try and not make an embarrassment of yourself from how badly you want to moan, and you take his shirt out of his pants. Running your hands under the shirt, needing to feel him.
“I hope you don't mind, sweetheart. Since it is already ruined…” He trails off as he grabs your shirt over your chest and pulls, hard, pulling the buttons of the fabric and ripping it where it didn't give in.
He almost growls when he sees the skin giggle and he dives right into your chest. His hands rest on your waist pulling you forward him, pulling your shirt out of your pants.
You try to take off your jacket, but the sudden movement causes a sharp pain in your arm making you groan in pain. Price quickly detaches himself from your skin to look at your face, alarmed he hurted you. “Sorry, you alright love?” He asks feeling guilty. You shake your head, only worrying him more and then you add. “It's not you, the jacket. Got stuck on the bandages or something; can you help me, please?” He smirks mischievously at you. “Help you to undress? Oh, darling, that's my pleasure.”
He kisses you on your lips again, taking off your jacket carefully and then your shirt. He pulls your bra strap down your shoulder, leaving your bra downside, your boobs out and pushes up. He cups one of your boobs groaning on your mouth when you moan softly and then bends down to get the other one inside his mouth.
He twirls his tongue around your nipple, savouring the taste of your skin. You move your hand to the back of his head, and when he gets lower, right under your boob over your ribs, and he bites you as you pull his hair moaning his name. “John…”
“Yeah, darling, moan my name like that.” He mumbles against your skin before he goes back to your mouth. “You taste like fucking candy, sweetheart. Can't fucking wait to taste all of your.”
“Do it. Do it, please.” You say against his mouth, looking up at him with pleading eyes.
“Aw, darling, what a fucking sight. Asking so nicely, how can I say no?” He says between kisses as he undoes your pants.
He lifts your ass from the desk with an arm as he pulls down your pants and your underwear all together. He leaves you again on the desk and undoes the clasp of your bra taking it off. Leaving you completely bare on his desk, while he remains completely dressed. The vest is even still on.
“Fuck… I must have been a fucking saint on my last life to be worth it of this sight, angel.” He says looking up and down your body as he moves his hands from your waist up to your face to give you a kiss. “I'm gonna make you feel good, love. So, so good…” he trails off as he begins to give kisses down your jaw, neck, collarbones, sternum, tummy, and just when he is about to reach your mount. He pulls back making you whine. “Shh, pretty, just getting comfy.”
He grabs the chair from before sitting down, gets closer between your legs and pulls them over his shoulder forcing you to lean on your back using the elbow that is not hurt to prop yourself up enough to see him.
He kisses the inside of your tights, from your knee and higher, higher, higher… you can feel his beard on that soaking part of you where you need him the most. But he doesn't indulge you, instead, he goes back to your knee and high again. Teasing you, leaving you panting, aching, clenching around anything, needy, desperate.
“John… please… no more teasing…” you beg, feeling desperate for him.
“Poor baby, already soaking.” He says looking directly at your cunt, and you feel as he presses a thumb on your clit making you shudder at the feeling and he slowly moves it down your slit, reaching your dripping hole and pressing it, but without getting it inside. Just collecting your juices and driving you mad.
He takes the thumb up to his lips licking it while he looks at your eyes. “Just as I thought, fucking candy, love.” You want to complain, to grab his hair and shove his face against your cunt but the only thing that leaves your lips is a bratty whine, too horny to think straight.
You feel Price chuckle against your skin, and when you finally feel ready to tell him off, he presses his tongue flat against your clit turning your brain to absolute mush as you let go of a moan worth of a porn video as you let your head fall back.
He moves his head up and down, letting his tongue move between your folds; collecting your arousal mixing it with his spit making a mess on his beard.
His index finger moves to your entrance, slowly getting it inside stretching you slightly because of the size of his hands. He sucks at your clit, almost making out with it. And once he feels satisfied with it, he gets a second finger inside.
You keep moaning his name, like a mantra almost, not being able to remain quiet when he begins to thrust his finger in and out of your wet cunt. The sounds, the squelch, the sight, delightful.
You have been given head before, but never like this. It never had you begin for them to keep going, to not let you hanging, never this desperate. But John Price, it has you wishing you could kiss the terrorist of your neighbour just for putting you in his line of vision.
He curls his fingers inside of you pressing a point that has you falling on your back hitting your head load enough for him to chuckle against your cunt, but before he can lift his head to check on you, you just get your hand on his head keeping him in place.
Caressing his hair, spreading your legs even wider, he eats you out like a man starved. Like he hasn't eaten in days like he just found a water fountain in the middle of the desert.
You realise then, that the reason why you have never felt like this before with any ex-lover, is because you have never felt this desired. You can feel Price moaning against your cunt, and it makes you wonder who is enjoying it more.
Not for long though, because you begin to feel the knot on your stomach get tighter. More and more tight, you feel your toes curl and you close your eyes letting your mouth open as you feel the knot coming undone like an elevator free-falling. A high-pitched moan leaves your lips that in any other situation would make you feel embarrassed and your tights clasp around Price’s head when he doesn't relent on his attack.
He helps you ride out your orgasm as you cover your face with your hands, the light in the room is suddenly too bright, and after a couple of seconds, you look up at him.
And the sight…
He is sitting, leaning back against the chair, manspreading wide, an elbow resting on the armrest as he lazily licks clean the fingers that were just inside of you. Absolutely content with himself and his accomplishments, a sight absolutely devilishly delicious.
You notice the tent on his pants, and you try to touch him with your feet. But he grabs your ankle, and you don't have enough energy on you to push it.
“As much as I would like to keep going, doll.” He says letting your leg down and coming up closer to your face. “You can barely keep your eyes open, so I think it's time to rest.”
He stands up, goes somewhere behind you that you guess is the bathroom because of the sound of water and a bit later, he is back. He picks you up, and lays down on a sofa, with you on top.
A bathroom and a sofa inside of his personal office, he really is a military captain. He covers the both of you with a blanket, he gives you a kiss to the forehead and before you know it, you are out.
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Post-nut clarity doesn't hit until a couple of hours later.
You are naked, in an unknown man's office, far away from home, with no phone, no keys, no money, no clothes, ashamed.
So you do the only thing you can do, you slip away from the sleeping handsome man, get dressed as fast as you can without making any noise and leave the room. You don't even bother to put on your blouse, choosing to just close your jacket.
Once outside, you let a sigh escape your lips. You know the military base, it is actually not that far away from your home, less than an hour walking back.
Are you excited about walking back home at the break of dawn alone? No. Do you have another choice? Not really, not any that would help reduce the walk of shame you found yourself doing.
So you get your hands on your pockets and start doing your half a marathon back home.
And just as the sun is beginning to pick over the horizon, you reach your home.
Just last night there were dozens of police cars, military workers, everything, the whole paraphernalia. But now? It is just dead silence, no a soul in sight, as if nothing has ever happened.
The janitor calls your name when he sees you, he gives you your keys and tells you that the police dropped them by when they cleaned everything.
You wait for the elevator and make your way up to your floor. On apartment 608, there is a police notice, banning everyone from getting close to the crime scene. There are bullet holes and some bloody handprints on the walls, a blood splutters a bit too close to the height your arm is.
You shake your head trying to forget about it, and open your door. Once inside, you lock the door and look for your phone. Only to remember that it must be in your bag, in your car, where you dropped it when you tried to run.
You look at the clock on the wall that you always forget about, and realise you have 20 minutes to get ready if you want to make it time to work. So get at it.
Most of those 20 minutes, go into taking a shower. You feel dirty, mainly because you are, but also because you feel used. You think about Price and Kyle, handsome military men, they have probably visited countries you don't even know exist and they probably have a lover in each of them.
You are probably just another one, and you let them in so easily. They must have barely felt any satisfaction from such an easy catch.
You feel like crying for being so silly, but a voice in your head stops you. The voice in your head that picks you up whenever you fuck something up. Don't cry! Why would you cry?! They used you just as much as you used them! And they are not crying! So neither are you! You made a grown man cum on his pants by rubbing yourself a bit and an even grown-er man basically get on his knees to eat you out! So don't cry!
So you get out of the shower with another attitude, you are going to get a hold of the situation, you are going to get space between these men and yourself, and you are going to be just fine!
“Son of a bitch!” You exclaim when you see yourself in the mirror, if you had thrown yourself down the stairs there would be fewer bruises on your body. Well, not bruises, hickeys.
You huff getting out of the bathroom to get dressed, and then back to the bathroom to cover all the hickeys.
By divine grace, you make on time for work. You are exhausted, starving and if any of your coworkers spoke to you today just a bit out of tone, you would chew their arms off. But luckily, everything goes right.
At least, until you get back home, and the first thing you see when you get off the elevator, is a masked man standing in front of your door.
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I guess it is a series now, I don't know where I'm going with it but there is still a couple of things I have thoughts about.
If you guys have any ideas or scenarios please, tell me hehe
And if you want me to tag you on the next part drop a coment 💗
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thevoidstaredback · 18 days
Text
It's always graveyards. Why is it always graveyards? They're creepy as hell and, well... that's it. On the bright side, the Protection Spirits watching the gates recognize him and realize the danger he's in. Well, maybe he wasn't in real danger because the Bats and Birds don't really do the whole purposefully harming civilians things, but they are scary as hell! Chasing him down like a bat straight outta hell- obviously he was gonna run! They cornered him! Maybe he'll invest in getting them lessons in how to interact with people in and out of costume?
Honestly, Nightwing, Danny expected better of you. At least Red Hood and Signal know how to treat innocents.
Here's the thing about Protection and Guardian Spirits, though. They don't like intruders. If you're running from something and you don't have time to ask permission to enter, you best say "thank you" and bring them shiny things on your next visit. If you do have time to ask permission, you ask permission. If they think you're a threat or rude, they won't let you enter whatever they're guarding.
"Thank you," Danny said as he slowed to a walk further into the graveyard, the sound of the gates slamming closed behind him confirmation that the Bat and his gaggle wouldn't be following him in.
Wasting no time, Danny pulled a piece of chalk from his pocket. It was a handy little thing he'd picked up during his stay in the House of Mysteries. Draw and door, tell it where you wanna go, open it, and go through! Beetlejuice style. Though, unlike what the Handbook for the Recently Deceased says, these doors won't actually open a door to the afterlife. He fixed that tiny glitch a while ago.
Anyway, a quick few chalk lines on the side of a mausoleum later, and Danny was opening a door to Fawcett, Philadelphia. Probably not the best choice, considering that he was trying to stay away from the Justice League, but it's better than Metropolis.
"Whoa." Damn it! He should've stayed home. "What was that, mister?"
Danny made sure the door closed behind him, praying for strength. Why did he feel like several deities were laughing at him? "Hey, kid. Can you, um, maybe not say anything about that?"
The kid, short brown hair and a red jacket stood out the most to Danny for some reason, seemed very amused. "You're gonna have to buy my silence."
Again, Danny let out a quiet, long suffering sigh. "Coffee is so not worth it." Looking at the kid, he said, "Alright, fine. I was getting coffee anyway, I'll buy ya lunch. Know any good places?"
Grinning, the kid cheered, "Hell yeah! Follow me!"
Resigned, Danny followed after the kid, easily keeping pace. About a block later, he figured he should probably get the kid's name. "I'm Danny."
"Billy."
"No last name?"
"Fae rules, dude. What's your excuse?"
He had to give it to him. "Touché."
Another three blocks of walking, Billy finally stopped at a cafe. It was a quaint place with stained white brick and a dark grey roof. There were metal chairs and tables outside the building surrounded by a wrought iron fence. The table umbrellas and the awning over the black door were light blue, matching the curtains in the inside.
The inside walls were painted baby blue with a white ceiling and a pinewood floor. The tables and chairs were all stained black with light pink cushions and table cloths. The curtains, as observed before, were all baby blue, tied back with baby pink ribbons. The lights were barely yellow, giving the room a warm feel. The counters were white with black paneling on the outside and white granite as the tops.
"Welcome in," the young man at the register greeted with a smile, "What can I get you two started with today?"
Danny envied the man. He'd obviously not been doing this long enough to gain the veteran's shine to his eye. He turned to look at the menu after telling Billy to get whatever he wanted. A mistake he'll probably pay for. "I'd like a large Red Eye, equal parts coffee and espresso, with cinnamon, honey, chocolate syrup, mint, and vodka, please."
The 'newbie' light in the man's eyes dimmed a little bit. "Um, we don't carry vodka." Glad that's the only thing he's worried about. Priorities.
Danny clicked his tongue. "Oh, well, it was worth a shot. I'd like everything else, though, please. Mix it at your own discretion."
"Alright," he was very valiant to go back to grinning, "Anything else?"
Danny motioned for Billy and the kid stepped up. "Can I get a large mocha, three chocolate chip cookies, and two sandwiches?"
The blond entered the order. "Of course! That'll be $25.37." A quick card swipe from Danny. "Thank you very much, we'll have your order out to you soon!"
The two didn't say a word as they chose a table in the corner. Danny let Billy take the seat that was open to the rest of the cafe so he wouldn't feel cornered. He had a good view of the door, though, so he wasn't complaining.
"So, how'd you do that?" Billy asked after they'd gotten their orders.
"How'd I do what?" Danny sipped his drink.
"How'd you walk outta that wall? It's solid!"
"Magic."
"I guessed that much."
"Then why'd you ask?"
"Will you teach me?"
"No."
"You didn't even think about it!"
"Okay," He paused. "No."
"Not fair." he pouted.
Putting his drink on the table, Danny summed as much fake-it-till-you-make-it energy as he could. "Magic isn't a toy and takes years of practice to get a handle on, not to mention you have to actually have an aptitude for it before you can even try. Besides, I don't know you nearly well enough to trust you with anything else."
Billy finished the cookie he was eating. "I can do it! You just gotta teach me!"
Another sigh that Danny had stopped counting. "Look, you seem like a good kid, but I'm not gonna teach you magic."
"Why not!"
"However," he continued, ignoring the demand, "I'm not gonna leave ya fully defenselessness."
"What do you mean?" Billy backed away slightly, his eyes narrowing as he moved to be able to run quickly.
Another sip. "Based off of the dirt you're covered in, the grease in your hair, and the overall poor condition of your clothes, I'm gonna bet that you're a street kid. So," he pulled a small card from his pocket, very aware that Billy was watching his hand aptly, "I'm going to leave you with this."
Slowly, the brunet took it and turned it over. "What it is?"
The white card had the initials DP in the middle, circled by an Ouroboros. The initials were completely solid, but the snake of the Ouroboros was made up of tiny runes of protection and health and healing and good fortune.
"My calling card. If you're ever in danger, hold that to your chest and ask for help. I'll be there."
Still obviously suspicious, Billy took a moment to scrutinize the card. It was cute to watch the kid act like he knew what he was looking at or for. When he seemed satisfied, he shoved the card into the inner pocket sewn into his jacket. "Thanks."
"No problem, kid," Pulling out his phone, Danny saw the time and stood, "I've gotta go now. I assume I've sufficiently bought your silence on the whole magic thing?"
Billy grinned, "I guess, but you gotta come visit me, okay?"
He chuckled, "Sure thing. See ya."
Part 2 Part 4
(I don't drink coffee, so Idk how that shit works)
Tag list: @zaiothe4th
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anantaru · 1 year
Text
— rejecting his cuddles
rejecting his cuddles feat. al-haitham, cyno, diluc, scaramouche x gn! reader
a/n: i spontaneously wrote this after coming home from a night out while craving fluff and cute things
genre: fluff, we're a lil bad for messing with them but who cares, right
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— al-haitham
"no thanks!"
you couldn't possibly reject his attempt to cuddle you right now, or could you?
at first, al-haitham‘s smile will slowly drop, not at the reason you might think because he actually is sure this has a deeper meaning, right?
jokes aside, actually he had you figured out from the start but wanted to see how far you would go, putting on the best fake facade one could pull off, it's almost as if he was a natural at deceiving people.
"no.. thanks?" al-haitham was quite impressed on how you managed to reject him this smoothly, it even hurt a little if he was being honest.
He wasn't stupid though, he was aware you were clearly messing with him, his little angel could be a little brat sometimes, that's what he cherished and loved about you as well.
maybe.. he should just try again, right?
with that in mind, al-haitham opened his arms again to advance towards your body to close the distance only for you to wiggle yourself away before he could catch up to you.
"no thanks, i‘m good!"
okay, maybe you were quite cruel today, you honestly didn‘t think much of it and wanted to tease your boyfriend, it was mostly him who would triumph over you so it was natural for some payback here and there.
curiosity got the best of you and that‘s why you were pushing your little scheme a bit further than you actually anticipated to do in the first place, seeking a reaction from your boyfriend.
the second rejection was a literal whiplash right into his face, but then it went clear as day to him, the solution to all of this warmly greeting him.
"okay."
if you could play such game, he surely could do so as well, he deducted that if he was to ignore you now, your fake facade would fall within seconds.
how else were you supposed to keep playing this with him not giving you any attention anymore?
al-haitham was about to get up from his seat as you quickly grabbed his wrist, holding him down.
"okay i was joking don‘t go!"
the slight worry on your face was hilarious to him, how he knew you like the back of his hand was almost scary. In his eyes there wasn‘t anything easier than figuring you out.
"you should stop messing with me before i‘m thinking of a way to get back at you."
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— cyno
the general mahamatra had a busy life, cyno was on duty every day and once he got home after a long night, the least you could do is hug him!
today you felt like you should play a little trick on him, just for a quick giggle in your relationship. Contrary to popular belief, cyno was actually an overly humorous person, even though his jokes mostly didn‘t land as he intended them to.
with that you heard the front door open with cyno following suit. You decided to greet him as always and walked towards your boyfriend as he tiredly smiled into your direction, already opening his arms.
"how was your day?"
normally you would‘ve hugged him first and then ask him a question, but today you stood right in front of him without drawing yourself into his embrace.
"it was good, come here." once cyno noticed you weren‘t moving an inch, he thought he should be the one to just hug you instead, yet after attempting to do just that …
"no thanks."
there was an awkward silence followed by cyno looking at you in slight disbelief and irritation. His eyes were low lidded and his expression tired, he really just wanted a hug!
"okay, i understand and respect it, but i don't agree with it."
typical cyno, now that you think back at it you don't really know how you expected him to respond to you. He was a gentleman at heart and immensely respected you.
yet though he didn‘t let it on, this was truly the worst thing that happened to him, yet he obviously doesn‘t want to force you either.
with a flash of guilt throwing itself at you like a fierce force, you quickly stopped him with a big hug from behind, resting your head on his back with your arms tightly shut around him.
"i‘m just messing with you, i‘m sorry."
ending your little sentence with a tiny giggle to soothe the mood, cyno turned around to face you at last, looping his arms around your body in return.
"hah, funny."
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— diluc
in any other case diluc wouldn't think too much of it, but the way you were denying his physical affection did throw him off in an unnatural amount.
"no thank you, i'm satiated."
"satiated?" the word blurted out of his mouth in an irritated way, he became confused and unable to recall what the most alarming aspect of this situation was right now.
the fact you didn't want his cuddles, which you once stated were the absolute best, or the fact that you stated you were quote on quote, satiated.
satiated by who?
the urge to throw himself into your embrace was always there, but he didn't want to make you uncomfortable. Diluc was patient with you and so were you with him.
yet he would lie if he didn't feel worried about this, the poor guy having not a single chance of noticing that you were clearly messing with him out of sheer boredom.
as a matter of fact, you didn't intend to go this far, nor did you think diluc would grow this anxious now, making up your mind you decided to end your little play after all as he spoke again.
"is something wrong? if i did something you must speak to me."
noticing how he shifted his eyes around the room, the guilt consumed you from within with your hands quickly grabbing his waist to draw him towards your warm body.
"I'm so sorry, i was trying to mess with you don't worry please."
with a momentary silence and his body frozen, he sighed in relief upon snuggling close to you, feeling the fastened beat of his heart, or was it yours?
"hmpf, maybe i shouldn't hug you for a while."
your eyes widened at his overly cheeky, teasing wording, your lips carved into a pout as you searched for his face, placing your hands on his shoulders.
"it was kaeya's idea, not mine!"
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— scaramouche
it wasn't often for scaramouche to search for a hug, not that he didn't want to hug you but he still wasn't completely accustomed to it, to trust a person again and simply relax under their touch.
one might say you were cruel for even thinking of pranking him, because who knows how he would react?
you, will now, know, this sliding second, when he suddenly came back from a long boring day, wiggling himself out of his shoes before he came walking towards you.
it became a slight habit of yours to hug whenever one of you would meet the other so scaramouche didn't think too much of it, he was actually looking quite forward to cuddle with you, so when he finally reached his desired destination, you backed away.
"lets not."
his brow raised almost immediately with his eyes lightly scrunched together in irritation, "lets not .. what?"
his voice had an annoying edge, the one you knew far too well. Sometimes scaramouche involuntarily spoke like that, he didn't even mean to come off as rude but it was a natural thing laced in his tone.
"i don't want a hug, thank you for the kind offer though."
the dazed look of bewilderment on his face was adorable, you felt bad for even finding it cute in the first place as scaramouche continued to tilt his head to the side, rambling in a low murmur.
"i don't buy it, you're the one who can't get enough of my hugs so what are you planning this time?"
his arms crossed around his body, a smirk of his brought out a sense of mischief he was way too good at, a fleeting thought of innocent fun.
in that moment he closed the distance to you almost completely, his eyes piercing daggers into your soul when he spoke once again.
"can you hug me now or what, i don't have all day for this."
the click of his tongue was all it took you to understand that he had figured you out yet again. in all honesty, you didn't know what you expected in the first place.
with a giggle announcing itself out of your throat, you quickly gathered him in your arms, nuzzling him into your warm chest.
scaramouche returned your call and embraced you back with his arms tightly clamped around your body, the pressure applied behind it made it difficult for you to breathe, he was practically clamping onto you.
in that moment you noticed how his breathing was erratic and uneven as well, as if for one tiny second, he really did think he had done something to pain you, something to lose you.
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©2022 anantaru do not share, copy, translate
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aidaronan · 1 year
Text
"First movie you ever saw in theaters?" Steve lounged opposite of Robin on the couch in his living room, the stereo on low, spitting out Madonna on the local radio station.
"Oh, that's easy." Robin bit off part of a licorice. "Freaky Friday. I remember because I was terrified for weeks that I'd end up switching places with my mom and have to, like, balance a checkbook or something."
Steve laughed, separating m&ms in his hand. "You still don't know how to balance a checkbook, do you?"
"Like you do." Robin playfully glared at him. "Okay, here's a good one. First kiss."
Steve ate the sole blue m&m first, a grin spreading across his face because he usually lied about his first kiss, but he didn't have to. Not with Robin. "Camp Stronghold when I was nine. We met up in the boathouse after lights out to trade contraband."
"Contraband, huh?" Robin raised her brows.
"Candy. I swear my parents loaded me up like I was going to prison. 'This is as good as cash in there, Steven.' I think my dad wanted me to network or something. Because, you know, I was totally gonna start a small business with a group of eight-year-olds."
Robin snickered. "And the kiss?"
"Ah. I didn't actually want candy. I just wanted this kid to like me so bad, and I didn't know why until we were there in the dark tripping into each other because we couldn't see. I had all these butterflies, and we were standing close enough that I could feel the heat off his sunburn in the air." Steve could still picture it. The way he couldn't see more than a few inches in front of his face. "Then he kissed me, just this quick peck on the lips before he turned tail and ran. I left the boathouse with a Snickers and one massive first crush."
"Did anything else happen?" Robin asked.
"No. It was the last week of camp and I think he freaked himself out over it. I don't know. He didn't even really say bye to me after we climbed off the bus to meet our parents. Never saw him again. I honestly never even thought to get his name."
"That sucks."
"Yeah. I just hope he's doing okay, you know? That he's got people in his life that make him feel like he's allowed."
Robin looked at him softly, reaching out to give his ankle a squeeze. "Hey, you never know. You might run into him again someday. Maybe he's your soulmate or something."
"Please. I think you're pretty obviously my soulmate." Steve nudged Robin with his foot. "But I guess he could settle for 2nd place."
"Oh, there's a toast for sure." Snacks tumbling off her lap, Robin reached for her can of Coke on the coffee table and raised it as high as she could reach. "To both of us finding our 2nd places."
"Cheers to that." Steve thrust his own Coke into the air.
____
It felt like a big cosmic joke that Steve would be in a boathouse when he realized who Eddie Munson had been all that time. Eddie had looked so different when he'd transferred into Hawkins that Steve had never even given him a second look, not during their shared classes, not during any of those cafeteria tirades. Not during the numerous occasions where he gave the kids rides to D&D.
"Wait, wait, wait, wait!"
It was the eyes that finally pulled back the curtain and cut away all those in-between years. Steve had never been close enough to clock them, but he couldn't deny them now. Not at such close range, Eddie holding a broken bottle against his neck, trembling with so much fear that Steve worried he might actually use it.
Dropping the oar from his own shaking hands, Steve said the only thing he could think to say.
"Well, this brings back memories."
Eddie didn't respond, the fear in the air drawing out every second, making it feel infinite. Behind them and in another universe, Dustin said a bunch of stuff Steve barely heard for the pounding in his ears. He watched beads of sweat roll down Eddie's forehead and waited for something to give.
Like clouds fat with rain, Eddie finally broke open, tension draining out of him, arm and weapon dropping to his side. He exhaled a shaky breath, maintaining eye contact, his expression too complicated for Steve to fully read.
Steve was about to say something else when Eddie finally spoke, cocking his head to the side and leveling Steve with a look.
"And here I spent all these years thinking you forgot."
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