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ohproserpine · 4 months

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ii. deer dolly

part i | part ii | more | ao3

tags: fem! reader, reader is a performer in a speakeasy, human! possibly ooc! alastor so he's a bit more "tame" here, unsettling & obsessive behavior, jealousy, possessiveness, written before episode 7; may become inaccurate, unwanted advances (not by alastor), murder, graphic descriptions of injuries

As the days unfolded into weeks, Alastor remained true to his word. A routine soon formed between the two of you: he would make regular visits to the speakeasy, engage in polite conversations with Mimzy, and take his usual seat to enjoy your performance.

In time, Alastor's interactions with you grew more intimate. And one night, following the success of one of your busiest night and biggest show, he surprised you with a beautiful necklace. Pulling you into your dressing room, Alastor asked for permission to formally court you. Without hesitation, you agreed, and in a burst of affection, proceeded to kiss him within an inch of your life.

Since then, Alastor had begun to take you on dates outside the speakeasy. He whisked you away to quaint diners, lively jazz joints, and even introduced you to his mother—a sweet woman who welcomed you with open arms.

Throughout your time together, not a single one of your performances escaped Alastor'. Why would they? For him, your shows were the very essence of color in his otherwise dull and monotonous existence. His devotion to you almost mirrored religious fervor as he attended each of your shows like an impassioned disciple in the dimly lit speakeasy pews.

Your voice became a spell, luring Alastor like a foolish sailor drawn to a siren's call. In those moments, the world faded away, and he followed the melody with an irresistible pull, captivated by thoughts of you, you, you.

Only you.

Tonight, however, was anything but ordinary.

Alastor, following his usual routine, occupied his customary spot at the pub, savoring his whiskey with slow sips from his glass. However, the comforting rhythm of the night, which he had grown used to, was broken when the band screeched to a halt, the shrill notes of the violin cutting through the air. Immediately, the pub erupted in a chorus of boos and shouts.

Alastor blinked, his smile turning strained as he noticed a man stumble onto the stage. It was clear that he was intoxicated, moving about as gracefully as a headless chicken, as he made his way towards you, nearly knocking you off your feet.

Noticing the commotion, Mimzy clicked her tongue, slammed her drink onto the counter, and swiftly rose to her feet. She rushed to the stage, the glitters on her vibrant dress catching the dim lights of the speakeasy.

“Why, I oughta—" she began to seethe, as she stomped towards the stage, finger wagging in the air. “That’s the fifth time this week, Giovanni!”

"Ah, Mimzy! Jus' wanted to surprise my sweetheart," Giovanni slurred, his thick accent muddled as he clumsily leaned into you, head tucking into your neck.

Snap.

Alastor felt a visceral reaction, something within him snapping as the glass in his hand cracked under the strain of his grip. The fractured crevices dug into his skin, and golden liquor seeped out, mixing with crimson red blood.

As a regular performer at this pub, your popularity was unquestionable, and Alastor was not entirely pleased with the attention you garnered from other men. If given the opportunity, he would have you whisked away from this place. In his eyes, your voice was too lovely for a place like this. Your talent deserved a grander stage than the confines of this tacky establishment.

“Ahah,” you smiled awkwardly, shuffling away and shrugging the man's arms off of you. “Not your sweetheart, Giovanni…”

"Are you not happy to see me, carina?" Giovanni’s voice dropped to a whisper, his hand dropping to grip you by the waist. He leaned his face in closer, and you cringed. The man's breath reeked of alcohol, and his eyes were a bloodshot red. “Come on~ I came all the way to see you.”

“Ya' can go see and do whatevah the fuck you want with her after the show!” Mimzy scowled, stomping her heels onto the wooden flooring. “Can't have a moment of peace in here. Someone get him off my stage!”

"I'll do whatever the fuck I want!" Giovanni retorted, his anger bubbling over as he lashed out, kicking the microphone stand in Mimzy's direction. She barely dodged in time, the crash of the mic hitting the floor drowned out by the screeching feedback.

"Please. Just go," you pleaded, your patience wearing thin. "Why? Why do you always have to make a scene?"

"Ay, carina, don't get bratty with me. Let's talk in the back," Giovanni insisted, his grip on your shoulders tightening as he attempted to pull you off the stage. But before he could, Mimzy's guards intervened, forcefully yanking him away.

"Hey! Get ya' hands off'a me!"

Turning around, you rushed to get off the stage, but Giovanni somehow managed to break free and extended his hand, trying to grab onto you. Panic welled up within you as his hand reached out, but relief followed when he was abruptly stopped by none other than Alastor.

"Now, now," Alastor's voice had a lilt as he held onto Giovanni's wrist, but the venom woven into each word was unmistakable. His ever-present smile stretched wide, serving as a clear warning. "Causing a commotion isn't the best way to impress a lady."

"This ain't none of ya’ business. Let go’a me!" Giovanni scowled, attempting to wring his hand out of the brunette's iron grip. Alastor merely chuckled and adjusted his glasses with his free hand, the unsettling grin still playing on his lips throughout the exchange.

"This ain't none of ya’ business. Let go’a me!" Giovanni scowled, attempting to wriggle his hand out of the brunette's iron grip. Alastor merely chuckled, adjusting his glasses with his free hand, the unsettling grin still playing on his lips throughout the exchange.

"Ha ha! Kind sir, when someone disrupts a delightful performance, it becomes everyone's business," Alastor laughed, the sound of it tinged with sarcasm.

"But I must commend you. My, that impromptu performance of yours was quite remarkable; you truly made a wonderful spectacle of yourself!" Alastor's grin widened, his mocking tone drawing out laughter from the crowd.

Then, Alastor bent down to meet Giovanni face to face, his amusement fading.

“Though I think you've overstayed your welcome, no?” Alastor's grip tightened around Giovanni's wrist, the pressure leaving bruises in its wake, hues of purple, green, and blue blossoming beneath the skin.

Alastor's grin turned sharp. "You will leave. Now."

"F-Fuck are you gonna do if I don’t, aye?" Giovanni spat, attempting to maintain a façade of bravado despite the pain. He tore his hand away from Alastor's grip, cradling his wrist. "Ya' think you can tell me what to fucking do?!"

"Hmm. I would at least advise you to salvage whatever dignity you have left and leave. If you had even a dust of intelligence in that hollow head of yours, that would have been the first thing you'd have done," Alastor chuckled.

“Damn right. Ya ain't got no fuckin place in my establishment,” Mimzy scowled, snapping her fingers and gesturing towards the men surrounding Giovanni. “Take him away, boys!”

As Mimzy’s goons surrounded him again, Giovanni sneered, "This ain't over."

"Oh, my dear pal, I assure you, it is very much over. The lady has made her wishes very clear," Alastor grinned.

With a final snarl, Giovanni was forcibly led away from the scene, his protests fading into the background as Mimzy's guards escorted him out. Mimzy wasted no time, bustling backstage and barking orders to her staff to clean up and prepare the stage once more.

Alastor's charismatic facade returned as he turned to you, though a glint of irritation lingered in his eyes. "Apologies you had to see that, cher. Let's hope the rest of the evening proceeds much more smoothly."

"I hope so." With a sigh, your gaze shifted downward, and you spotted his injured hands. The glass he had broken earlier had left wounds all over his calloused palms — not deep, but enough to draw blood.

Concern etched across your face, and you gently touched Alastor's hands. The radio host, accustomed to your touch by now, allowed you to inspect the damage.

"You're hurt," you pointed out, caressing his skin.

Alastor met your gaze with a reassuring smile. "Ah, this is just a trifle. A mere inconvenience, I assure you! My, I've endured far worse during hunting, darling! This is hardly worth mentioning."

"But—" you began, only to be interrupted by his finger pushing against your red lips.

"Worry not, cher. I'll take care of it. There's no need to play nurse," he spoke with finality, as if this was a matter not open to further argument.

"Alright," You managed a small smile. "I am really sorry things turned out this way, Al. I didn't know Giovanni was going to show up again. He's always been like that for as long as I can remember. I told him to stop but he never does."

"No need for apologies. None of this fault is on you, darling. Though it does add a touch of excitement to otherwise mundane affairs, doesn't it?" Alastor chuckled heartily, though you sensed there was a bitter undertone to his laugh.

"Excitement? That man is a shitshow just waiting to happen," Mimzy returned and walked up to both of you, rolling her eyes. "And I thought I got rid of him for good..."

Suddenly, she leaned in with cosmetics in hand, deftly swiping lipstick across your lips and delicately brushing blush on your face. "Now come on, dollface, let's get you back to that stage."

You realize you're still on shift, but the thought of performing feels nearly impossible at the moment, especially with all this lingering adrenaline in your system. Admittedly, you're a bit shaken up, and all you want is to curl up by Alastor's side and savor the night with a drink in hand.

"Oh, Mimzy…I'm not sure I can really perform right now, love. I feel…" you slowly trailed off, faltering under the weight of Mimzy's hardened gaze.

The blonde cooed out your name, her fingers gently wrapping around your arm, soothingly rubbing it up and down. "Dollface, you're not here to question; you're here to perform! Alastor here has been so kind to get rid of your little problem. Now, let's get back up on that stage and do what you're good at."

"Pardon?" Alastor snapped with a raised brow, his usually jovial tone replaced by a sharper edge. "Well, I don't mind in the least. In fact, I rather enjoyed putting that simpleton in his place. I'm sure your patrons can afford to wait, can't they? This poor dear is still shaking in her heels!"

But you intervened, mustering a smile and smoothing down the wrinkles on your dress while nervously tending to your hair. "Oh no, Al, it's alright. Mimzy's right. I can't just let one man ruin my entire night."

With a deep breath, you steeled yourself, taking a moment to compose before adding, "Besides, the show must go on, right?"

Alastor paused, his eyes narrowing as he studied your nervous tics. The radio host silently appraised your form for a few more seconds before eventually giving in. "Hmm, very well. If that's what you wish."

"Thank you, Al," you whispered with a smile, tilting your head up to press a kiss against his cheek. Your lipstick had left an imprint on his bronze skin, but he made no move to wipe it off.

With a chuckle, Alastor leaned back into you and returned the gesture warmly.

"I'll take care of everything, doll," he whispered, voice low, before pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth. "He won't ever bother you again."

Confused, you blinked up at him with those bright eyes he loved so much. "How do you plan to do that, Al?" you asked, but he ignored you, staring at you with that unsettling look in his eyes again.

Alastor suddenly raised your hand to his lips, brushing the knuckles with gentle pecks, causing your mind to blank and cheeks to go aflame.

Tapping her foot impatiently, Mimzy's irritation grew as the display of affection lingered longer than she deemed appropriate. With a swift swat of her hand against the man's shoulder, she hissed at him. "That's enough outta you!"

Alastor smirked to himself and began walking back, seemingly satisfied with the subtle disturbance he had caused. He was such a bastard, but he was yours.

With a shake of your head and a smitten blush gracing your cheeks, you returned to the stage. The blinding spotlight enveloped you as Mimzy tossed the microphone back into your waiting hands.

Meanwhile, Alastor reclined in his seat at the booth, his gaze fixed intently on you as you resumed your performance. The audience, having brushed off the brief interruption, eagerly redirected their focus to you.

Rabbit, rabbit! Won't you run away? Don't give the farmer all his fun today~ He'll get by without his rabbit pie. So run rabbit, run rabbit, run, run, run!

As you neared the end of the song, Alastor joined the crowd's applause, rhythmically snapping his fingers together.

Wonderful, as always.

Snap.

The sudden, jarring sound shattered the stillness of the forest, followed by a shrill scream that seemed to shake the trees. Giovanni's hands instinctively shot down to his ankle, where his bone had twisted in a gruesome sight that sent bile rushing to his throat. However, he had no time to inspect the damages as a rustling bush caught his attention. Desperately, the man began crawling on the ground, doing his best to move farther away, dragging mud and dirt all over his body.

"Don't give the farmer his fun. Fun. Fun," emerging from thick shrubs, Alastor sang lowly as he continued his slow advance, relishing in the fear that emanated from his prey. He raised his hand, fingers idly tracing over the red mark on your lips, and if he focused hard enough, he could still feel the burn of your affections. "He'll get by without his rabbit pie."

The dense forest around them seemed to close in, casting eerie shadows as Alastor's menacing silhouette moved closer. Giovanni, now gasping for breath, cast terrified glances over his shoulder, desperately searching for an escape route.

"So run rabbit, run rabbit, run, run, run," Alastor continued to trail after the man, his axe slung over his strong shoulders, a sinister grin etched on his lips.

Ah, it had been so long since he last pursued larger prey, opting for smaller catches like rabbits and squirrels lately. This, however, was a different kind of pursuit, and the thrill was delicious.

“It's rather unsavory to disrupt a live performance,” Alastor mused, gripping his axe and running his bandaged palm along the side of the blade. "Oh, the misery! Each performance interrupted, a masterpiece marred!"

“Though I suppose you redeemed yourself with your own impromptu circus show,” Alastor snickered, reaching down and seizing Giovanni’s sprained ankle, dragging the screaming man back toward him.

"Good show!" The radio host grinned as he pressed his feet against Giovanni's back to prevent him from escaping. Alastor raised the axe high, the glint of the blade reflecting the crazed gleam in his eyes.

"Now, let's see how this act ends."

With a practiced swing, he brought the blade down, chunks of flesh and blood spraying onto his clothing and skin from the impact. Alastor laughed as the light gradually faded from the man's eyes, his once-struggling arms and legs now falling limp.

“What a show!”

#sephiewrites #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel imagine #alastor imagine #hazbin imagine #hazbin hotel x you #alastor x you #hazbin x you #hazbin x reader #hazbin hotel #alastor

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imwetforyourmom · 16 days

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can u do a matt x reader fic where the reader is going to the triplets house and meeting them for the first time alongside tara, jake & johhnie, Sam and Colby and Larry. Like the whole group has already met them but it’s the reader’s first time and during the whole hangout she can’t help but feel attracted to Matt and gets all blushy and kind of shy whenever he talks to her and he notices it and like takes it to his advantage kinda, and subtly flirts and teases her and likes seeing her all flustered. shitty explanation but I hope u get the memo😭🙏🏼 thank you baby🤍

why so shy?

warnings: hella swearing, teasing/flirting, dirty jokes

a/n: yall I love your requests, you’re all so smart fr

a/n 2: guys I had two different endings to this and was torn between them

if you dont like how its written do not hesitate to ask me to re-write it!!

not proofread

“atta girl”

“oh my god, hi!!” tara squeals as she wraps her arms around y/n.

tara’s been waiting to meet y/n, she and y/n had been messaging on instagram and eventually exchanged numbers, where their friendship grew even more, despite the fact they hadn’t even met met.

so, this is where they found themselves, hugging in the triplets house where they planned to meet, they invited everyone and orginally planned to meet at a resturuant, but matt refused and so nick decided it’d be better at the triplets house.

“hi!” a small grin fought its way onto y/ns face. she wrapped her arms around the small figure hugging her.

tara pulled away and backed up, gesturing her arms out to the several boys sitting on the couch, she introduced each and every one of them to y/n, a huge grin on taras face.

after tara finished introducing everyone and etc, it went to a quick silence, but matt broke it with “what’d you guys wanna do?”

his eyes were on y/ns, mostly asking her as she was the guest.

y/n felt her cheeks burning up, her hands folded together and she quickly looked away from his eyes. her grin turning into a nervous smile and voice slightly shaky. “I- uh, I dont mind what we do. is- is anyone um, I dont know.” she mumbled, she couldnt think of anything and she decided it’d be best if she didnt embarass herself any further.

she awkwardly took a seat on the couch, the only avaible spot being close to matt, literally sitting beside him with some space, thankfully.

she slowly sunk into the couch, letting everyone else begin conversation around her, she could hear voices trying to decide what they should do.

she kept her eyes on her hands in her lap, trying to think of anything other than how nervous matt just made her.

she looked up, her eyes immediately going to matts figure, her eyes trailing up and down. scanning the boys figure, looking at his side profile, the way his shirt hugged his skin, the prominent veins in his arms and hands and his tattoos. she’d be lying if she said she didnt get nervous just by the sight of him. hes gorgeous.

the rings on his fingers and the veins in his hands kept her eyes captive—who is she kidding? his entire body was keeping her captive, under the hold of attraction.

matt glanced over at her, letting his eyes linger a moment longer over her. seeing that she was staring at him, more specfically his body.

just to tease her, he curled his hand into a fist and flexed his arm slightly, making his veins and muscles more apparent. he watched her eyes widen, cheeks turn a bright pink and her throat audibly swallow.

a smirk grew on his face, he shifted his body more towards her. he stood infront of her, orginally with larray but larray had seen y/n staring at him, chuckled and walked to sam and colby, leaving matt with y/n.

he walked closer to y/n, leaning down slightly to her level he looked down at her, “what’re you looking at, pretty girl?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper so no one heard him.

y/ns eyes stared up into his eyes, her stomach fluttering and her cheeks burning an even darker red.

she swallowed, attempting to recover her calm demeanor and answering with her best try at a mono-tone voice “n- nothing.”

matt hummed, a pleased smirk formed on his face. he nodded once at her, then walked away to his triplet brothers, trying to shove down how nervous she looked and how big his ego felt now.

chris had been whining for ages now about how hungry and thirsty he was, nothing but complaints about how ‘im dying of thirst’ and ‘im starvinggg’ leaving his mouth, as if the boy couldnt walk to his own kitchen and get food and a drink himself. but the poor boy claimed his stomach ached too much to get himself food, in other words, he was too lazy.

“im so thirsty.” chris mumbled, crossing his arms and staring at the floor like a kid pouting. his throat dry.

jake looked over at him, stopping abruptly in his conversation with nick about loud cars and their shared hatred.

“how thirsty?” jake said, a small giggle being heard at the end of his sentence.

“sooo thir-“ nick cut off chris, though he’d rather watch it all play out, he did not want to hear his brother finish his sentence. “shut up chris! he’s setting you up! you fucking doofus.” nick rolled his eyes.

“dont know how you didnt see it comin’” matt laughed at his brothers cluelessness.

“what the fuck ever” chris grumbled, rolling his eyes and crossing his arms on his chest, a clear sign of him “not having this” or annoyance.

with a new idea, he turned to y/n with puppy dog eyes.

“can you get me a drink please?” he asked, pouting his pretty pink lips in a convincing manner. looking up at her with glossed over eyes and licking his lips to try and convince her even more.

matt scoffed, jealousy bubbling in his stomach he walked over to the pair and slung an arm around y/ns shoulder. sending a glare towards chris, his mouth shut but his eyes speaking loudly.

“shes not gonna get you a drink, go and get your own shit.” matt rolled his eyes, tightening his grip around y/n ever so slightly. for his own benefit, matt used his hand to shoo his brother off. watching as chris stomped his foot while walking to the kitchen, grumbling things under his breath, his insults and curses clearly directed towards matt.

“finally, someone needed to shut that kid up” larray teased, his eyes boring into the back of chris’ head, “shut up larray, why don’t you go make me food?” chris shot back, walking back to larray to continue their play fight.

matt and yn tuned out their bickering, focusing on the still close proximity between them. y/ns body tensed at matts arm around her shoulder, “gotta show my girl some respect, yeah?” matt whispered, his face facing forward but his mouth close to y/ns ear. his words were targeted, he knew what he was doing. feeling y/ns body stiffen under his touch and her breathing shallow with his words was only egging him on.

y/n gulped, nodding her head. trying to push past the butterflies in her stomach. blood rushing to her cheeks while she replayed his words in her head like a vintage cd player.

“yes- yeah.” she mumbled, her body still tense and stiff.

matt hummed in content, removing his arm off her and walking over to larray, where he stood and watched y/n.

y/n took in a breath, trying to calm herself before walking over to chris, pushing herself onto the counter where chris was getting his food.

“how- hows your food comin along?” she asked, swallowing her nerves.

“eh, it woulda been better if you made it.” he scoffed, looking over his shoulder to flip off matt, whom chuckled in response and turned to larray to engage conversation with him, in which, larray immediately making fun of matt.

“y/nnn” tara groaned, grabbing y/ns arm and dragging her with her.

“I wanna show you something” tara said excitedly, a big, toothy grin on her face while she spoke. she continued to bring y/n with her, across the kitchen and into matts room.

“okay, but why are we going into matts room?” y/n asked, looking at tara for an explanation, but nonetheless she stood in his room, standing awkwardly and examining his room.

“its was the first place I thought of.” tara shrugged, “oh shit! I forgot to grab the thing, ill be right back. dont move, k?” tara said, her smile dropping. leaving the room quickly with a sly smirk on her face, a knowing smirk.

y/n nodded hesitantly, unsure if she was entirely believing tara.

she swung her arms around herself boredly, looking around but staying in place and making a soft clicking noise with her mouth whilst waiting.

it wasnt until a few moments later she heard a ‘click’ noise from the door, not her mouth, the door.

her eyes moved to the door, expecting to see tara with whatever she went to grab, only to see matt walk in with his eyes glued to his phone.

never once losing eye contact with his phone he shut the door, and walked closer to his bed, finally looking up from his phone he saw y/n with an awkward smile on her face.

“hi.” she mumbled, taking a step back. her voice was breathy and shaky, signaling she was already nervous even with only being in the same room as matt for 30 seconds.

“hi, pretty girl. what’re you doing in here?” he asked, still not letting the pet name go, already feeling the satisfaction of her reaction using in his veins.

“I- um-“ she attempted to speak, though her own voice betrayed her. if she sounded pathetic earlier, she sounded even more pathetic now.

“why so shy? cmon baby, use your words. I know you can.” he drawled, taking a step closer to her, tossing his phone onto the bed and giving her his full attention.

“tara- she, she took me in here and left.” y/n calmed her composure, taking another step back, feeling her back press against the wall she let out a defeated sigh. she was screwed now. pressed against a wall infront of her newfound crush? god was she so fucking screwed.

“atta girl.” matt praised, taking another step towards her. he placed his hands on either side of her hips, his head tilted downwards a little to ensure his dominance over the situtation.

“I knew you could do it” he leaned his head into her neck, pressing soft kisses on the warm and smooth skin, sending shivers down y/ns spine.

y/ns lips parted, a small whimper escaping her lips, she tilted her head back, giving matt better access to her neck.

matt trailed his gentle kisses from the side of her neck, to her ear. he pressed a quick kiss to the shell of her ear before whispering in her ear

“you’re my pretty girl, arent you?”

“only I can make you this nervous, hm?”

“I see the way you look at me”

once he finished, he suckled on a spot underneath her ear, her sweet spot, earning a small moan from her.

he moved his lips to hers, pressing a slow and deep kiss onto her lips, y/n immediately kissing back with the same energy. melting into the kiss almost instantly.

theres no way tara didnt plan this. y/n saw the smirk playing on tara’s lips when she left the room, maybe she should’ve thought about it more.

1694 words

@luverboychris @chrissturniolosfavoritesexdoll @meg-sturniolo @junnniiieee07 @genshin-addict @mels22lunchbox @ssilentzom @haunted-headset @dollyspsychoxo @sturnib-tch @b2cute @livvy4realll @graysturns @wh0resstuff @jnkvivi @mattsmad @sturn-bugz @maryx2xx

#sturniolo #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #nicolas sturniolo #the sturniolo triplets #sturniolo fanfic #matthew sturniolo #sam and colby #colby brock #sam golbach #larray #jake and johnnie #tara yummy #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo x reader #mollys requests

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nastybuckybarnes · 1 year

Text

Comfortable

Pairing: Bucky X Reader

Summary: Bucky finds out that you’ve never climaxed during intimacy and he’s not happy about that.

Warnings: Smut, Crying during sex, Overstimulation (mental and physical), Language, Fluff, Minor Angst but not really

Word Count: 2.8K

A/n: Kinda based on life but without bucky coming in and setting things straight lol. I’ve also got the first like 5 parts of a new series written, so that’ll be coming soon hehe. anyway, I hope you guys enjoy, and I love you all very much!

~*~

“I don’t know, Nat, I just... I guess I’m just never... I don’t know. I’m in my head a lot, I guess.”

The redhead snickers, elbowing her sister and sharing a look with her before both of their gazes return to yours.

“Barnes lacking?”

You shake your head quickly, trying to clear his name.

“No! No, God no! He just... it’s not him, it’s me. I think too much, I’m focused on making sure it’s good for him, making sure he finishes that I... I don’t know.”

Yelena purses her lips, “does he know he hasn’t made you cum yet?”

You swallow hard and shake your head, dropping your gaze to your lap.

“I... I fake it.”

The assassins exchange glances again and you huff a sigh.

“He’s good, he’s really good and he makes me feel good and I get close but... I just can’t... I can’t cum. And it’s not like it’s just him, I’ve never cum with anybody I’ve been with. I just... can’t do it. Maybe I’m broken,” you whisper that last part mostly to yourself, but both women jump in and shake their heads.

“It’s an intimate thing. You probably just want to feel one hundred percent comfortable with the person before giving that last bit of yourself to them. Orgasming with a partner for the first time is... intense. You should talk to him about it, tell him the truth and explain it. Maybe you guys need more foreplay, maybe you need to be in control more, but you’ll only figure it out by talking to him about it.”

You bite your bottom lip and shake your head at Natasha, “I don’t wanna hurt his feelings though, Nat. I just... how the hell do I gently tell him that he hasn’t made me cum and I've been faking it the whole time?”

Two sets of trained eyes dart over your shoulder just as you hear the door to your apartment shut.

Tension pulls your shoulders up and you squeeze your eyes shut, praying that he didn’t hear you.

The way the two Russians in front of you press their lips into thin lines gives you your answer, and you drop your head forward, hating the fact that this is now a conversation you need to have with your boyfriend.

“Well uh, I think we should take that as our cue to leave,” Yelena says awkwardly, pressing on a smile and offering Bucky a small wave as she rises to her feet, Natasha following after.

You stay rooted in place on the couch, refusing to even acknowledge his presence as he putters about in the kitchen, waiting until your friends leave before finally making his way into the living room.

Your eyes don’t leave your hands as he takes a seat on the floor in front of you, his hands, one cold and one warm, finding yours and squeezing gently.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, squeezing your eyes shut and trying to take deep breaths.

If you were to look at him, you’d see that his face is confused, not angry. Not a hint of anger could be found within him. If anything, he’s upset that you hadn’t told him before. That you didn’t feel comfortable confiding in him and telling him the truth.

The entire time he was under the impression that you were enjoying the sex and getting just as much out of it as he was.

“Why are you apologizing, sweet girl?”

You sniffle and shake your head, fear icing your veins.

You don’t want him to be mad at you and you don’t want him to feel offended.

“I just... I’m sorry.”

He shakes his head and reaches one hand up to cup your jaw, raising your head enough so that you finally, finally look into his eyes.

Your beautiful eyes are filled with tears and it makes his heart ache in his chest.

“Why the tears, honey, what’s wrong?”

You shake your head and sniffle, dropping your gaze only to raise it when he squeezes your chin.

“C’mon, sweet girl, you can talk to me. I... I don’t want you to ever be afraid to talk to me, okay? What’s got you so upset?”

You take a deep breath and squeeze his hand, trying to muster up your courage.

“I just... I don’t want to make you mad.”

He furrows his brows and shakes his head, absolutely flabbergasted at the fact that you think he’d be mad at you for being honest.

“Why would I ever be mad, baby? If you’re upset, I wanna know what I can do to make you feel better.”

You take another deep breath then slowly nod.

“I just... I know that sex is a sensitive topic for a lot of guys. Especially... their performance. And yours is great! The sex is great and I love it and you’re amazing! I just... I haven’t... ya’know. I never have with anyone else either. I’m starting to think that I can only do it by myself,” you whisper glumly, your shoulders sinking in.

Bucky is quiet for a moment. He’d already heard every word you’d spoken to Natasha and Yelena, and, he’s not gonna lie, it punches at his pride to know that his girl isn't enjoying it as much as he is. All he wants is for you to feel your best in every aspect of life.

“Well, why don’t we talk about this a bit more, huh? You said that it’s not just me, but everyone you’ve been with?”

He knows this isn’t about him, it’s about you, but he really hopes that you’re not trying to soften the blow. If other people have made you cum, he wants to know how and when and then he wants to cut their fingers off for ever touching you.

You nod, sniffling. “Yeah, I just... I don’t know if I get in my head too much or if I’m... not comfortable enough, but I just... I can’t.”

He nods slowly, trying to gather his thoughts and figure out a solution.

“What can I do to make you more comfortable, honey?”

You shake your head and push to your feet, hating every word of this conversation.

“I am comfortable with you, Buck. I just... forget I said anything, it doesn’t matter anyway.”

His long fingers wind around your wrist, stopping you from fleeing like you so desperately want to.

“It does matter, honey. It matters a lot, actually. I’m not mad and I’m not offended. I just... I want you to feel the same intimacy that I feel when we have sex. It’s... amazing. And I want you to experience it. So tell me how I can make you feel better.”

Your glossy eyes raise to his and, when you see nothing but honesty and love, you nod slowly.

“I don’t know what’s missing or what needs to happen. You’ve got me really close, but I just.. maybe I think about it too much? I don’t know.”

He cups your cheeks and presses the softest kiss to your forehead.

“You’re gonna need to direct me, baby. Next time, you’re gonna need to tell me what you like, what feels good, okay? And when you get close, you tell me and I’m gonna keep going until you actually cum, is that all right?”

You nod again.

“Okay.”

He kisses your lips gently then pulls you into a tight embrace.

“Okay.”

~*~

The next time the opportunity to be intimate arises, it’s after a small get-together at Yelena’s place.

You’ve already had a sizeable glass of wine, and now all you want is your boyfriend’s hands on your body.

He pushes open the door to your shared apartment, a grin on his lips as you pepper kisses along his jawline.

“Hey, sweetheart. You want something? Hmm?”

You nod, lips not leaving his skin as you push his jacket off of his shoulders.

“C’mere.” His metal arm dips beneath your thighs, hoisting you up, while his flesh arm wraps around your waist, keeping you held tightly against his chest as you wrap your legs around him.

He leads the two of you through the apartment and into the bedroom, laying you down gently on the bed and pulling away to pull his shirt off.

You shimmy out of your dress and toss it to the ground, leaving you only in your matching black lace set.

Bucky’s eyes devour your figure and he’s quick to shed his pants and join you on the bed, crawling between your legs and smoothing his hands over your thighs.

“How you feelin’, pretty girl? You okay?”

You nod, bottom lip tucked between your teeth as he looks at you like you’re the only woman on the planet.

And to him, you might as well be.

“You gonna let me eat you out, baby? Please?”

How could you possibly say no to that?

When you nod at him, he grins, beyond pleased, and slides his fingers beneath the fabric on your hips.

He pulls your panties down your legs and brings them up to his face, holding your gaze while taking a deep breath through his nose.

“Fuck, you smell good. Taste even better, though.” And with that, he situates himself between your thighs and flattens his tongue against you, licking you from your dripping hole up to your throbbing clit.

You sigh happily, fingers tangling through his hair as he works his tongue over your clit and dips two fingers into your heat.

“Just like that...” you whisper, your head digging into the pillows as he plays you like a fiddle.

He continues fucking his fingers into you, pausing when you give a particularly hard tug on his hair then repeating exactly what made you do that.

You can feel it slowly building, each pass of his tongue and thrust of his fingers brings you slightly closer, and you can’t help but feel your heart begin to race.

“Fuck... just like that, Bucky...”

He follows your instructions perfectly, doing exactly what makes you feel good.

He watches your face scrunch, feels your heels dig into his back and your nails scratch at his scalp and - Goddamn is this what he was missing out on? This is what you look like when you’re really about to cum?

It takes all of his self-control to not grab his phone and take a picture of you.

Your chest rises and falls more rapidly and your eyes are squeezed shut as your walls start fluttering around his fingers.

Fuck, you look gorgeous.

It’s such a strange feeling, having him bring you closer and closer to the edge. It’s so foreign yet so right and you tug at his hair and roll your hips up to his face.

“Bucky, I... I’m gonna.... oh fuck, please... I’m gonna cum, please!”

God, hearing that is like music to his ears.

He continues, bringing his free hand up to yours when you reach for it.

You interlock your fingers and grind your teeth together as your release washes over you, far more intense than anything you’ve ever been able to bring yourself.

A sound that’s half-moan half-gasp falls from your lips and you squeeze his hand harder while your walls clamp down around his fingers.

Bliss fills you, sparks flying from every nerve in your body, head to toe, and Bucky watches in awe.

He’s not sure how he believed you before when you were faking. The way you look when you cum is something he’s never going to be able to forget now.

Your body is wound so tight, your thighs clenched around his head and your nails digging into his scalp. Your walls are pulsing and clenching and, fuck, it feels incredible. He can’t wait to feel it around his cock.

He continues slowly fucking his fingers in and out of you while working his tongue over your clit, only pulling away when you tug your hips back.

He smacks his lips together and pulls away, his eyes connecting with yours.

Your chest heaves and your forehead has a light sheen of sweat on it, and you look like the Goddess you are.

“How you feel, baby?” He asks gently, smoothing his hands up your sides and rubbing his thumbs over the soft skin of your stomach.

You only nod at him, your hands coming to rest on his wrists.

“Words, baby. I need words.”

You lick your lips and take a deep breath before speaking.

“I feel good, Buck. I-I feel really good,” you whisper, eyes prickling with tears at the intensity of the moment.

He smiles lovingly down at you and leans in for a gentle kiss.

You taste yourself on his tongue and it makes the moment even more erotic.

“Gonna let me fuck you, baby?” He asks against your mouth, trailing his lips down your neck and kissing your skin gently.

You nod, sighing softly as tears trail back into your hairline.

He pulls back for a moment, just long enough to situate himself comfortably between your thighs and align himself with your entrance.

And then he’s pushing into you slowly, making you feel every single inch of it.

Your mouth drops open and your legs wind around his hips, pulling him even deeper than before. He’s pressing against every sensitive spot inside you and it feels heavenly.

“Fuck, you feel good, baby. Feel so good... God... nice n’ tight... wet... shit you’re like heaven.” He rasps the words against your throat, lips trailing up over your skin to rest on yours for a quick moment before he pulls back to gaze into your eyes.

“I love you, pretty girl. I really do.”

Your heart swells and you lean up to kiss him, gasping against his lips when he pulls his hips back and slams them forward.

He starts a steady pace, smoothing one of his hands over yours and interlocking your fingers.

“I wanna feel you cum for me again. Wanna feel it on my cock, baby. God, you look so pretty when you cum. Wanna take a picture of it and frame it, I swear.”

You squeeze your eyes shut and whine softly, arching your back and groaning when he hits deeper inside of you at the new angle.

“Right there... oh fuck, please...”

He buries his head in your neck, peppering the skin there with kisses while his free hand travels between your bodies to find your clit.

He circles the bundle of nerves with expert precision, lifting his lips to yours to swallow your moans.

You’re barely kissing. No, it’s more of just breathing each other’s breaths and moaning in each other’s mouths, but the intimacy is unmatched and the passion is flaming through your soul.

You wind your free arm around his shoulders, pulling him down to press more of his weight against you, and you can’t help but feel more secure and more comfortable.

“I... Bucky... I’m gonna... oh fuck.”

He nods, showering your face in kisses.

“Cum for me, honey. C’mon, please. I wanna feel you cum on my cock.”

You can’t very well deny him when he’s asking you so nicely.

His fingers move against your clit faster and faster while his hips continue grinding into yours firmly, making your toes curl and your back arch further.

Your chest presses against his and you rake your nails against his back so hard you're sure you’re drawing blood, but you can’t find it in yourself to care.

Not when you’re falling headfirst into the most intense and powerful climax of your life.

Your vision goes white and your ears start to ring, and all you can do is squeeze around him.

Your legs tighten around his waist, your nails dig into his flesh, and your walls clamp down around his cock as fireworks erupt in your belly.

Bucky fucks you through it, keeping his pace steady as you tremble and convulse beneath him, your mouth open as soft whines fall from it.

God, the feeling of you, all hot and tight and wet around him... he’s ready to die happily now that he’s gotten to truly experience the glory that is having you cum around him.

His pride swells and he can't help the way his ego inflates when he pulls his head back to look at your pretty face.

He did that.

He made you feel that good.

He’s the only man, no, the only person in the world besides yourself that’s ever made you cum. And he’s going to be the only one.

And now that he knows how to do it, now that he's gotten you there with his mouth and his cock, he’s never going to get enough of it. He’s gotta make up for lost time, doesn't he?

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes #Bucky Barnes x reader #bucky x reader smut #bucky/reader smut #bucky x you #bucky x reader lemon #bucky x you smut #Bucky Barnes smut #marvel smut #Steve rogers #yelena belova #Natasha romanoff #bucky x f!reader #bucky x female!reader #Bucky Barnes fanfic #reader insert

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rainydayathogwarts · 2 months

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Open arms - Emily Prentiss

Smut - the way this fic has been sitting half written in my drafts forever. Go me for finally getting it done. Summary: Emily can't help but approach her ex in a dimly-lit bar wc: 2.1k

Emily thought that the night would be nice and relaxing for her and the team, celebrating another closed case at their favourite bar, their laughter drowning out the sounds of other people's conversations in the dim-lit restaurant. That was until her eyes locked in on a familiar figure standing near the bar, most definitely accompanied by someone. Emily froze, her hand tightly gripping her drink, and audibly gasped when you turned around, exposing your face to her.

"Y/n?" She whispered, catching Penelope and Derek's attention, who both turned to look at her. "You okay there Prentiss?" But she really wasn't. You were her only partner who ever stayed up waiting for her to come home from a case, genuinely concerned about her. You held her in your arms, letting her just sit there and open up if she wanted to. If she didn't, it didn't bother you, and you showered her with love nonetheless, always managing to pull a smile from her. And you were definitely the best in bed. Having you withering under her, relentlessly crying out her name was an image Emily would never forget.

She regretted leaving you every day, but it would keep you safe. After seeing what Hotch had to go through, she knew it was the smartest decision. Now that you were there though, in person after over a year of being apart, she wouldn't be able to stay away from you. If you would let her that was. She remembered your reaction, how you completely broke down, calling bullshit on her 'keeping you safe' excuse.

"I'm fine." She said, bringing herself out of her trance to take a long sip of her drink. "That an ex of yours?" Derek questioned, looking at you, now talking to a friend. You looked gorgeous, he thought. Your short black dress showed off your long legs and had a low cut to display your biggest weapon, the heels you wore flexing your calf muscles in the nicest way possible. Your stunning smile exposed your white teeth while a hand flipped your hair over your shoulder. He wondered how a dumbass like Emily was able to get you.

Emily's head shot back in your direction when she heard coughing, only to find out it was you, your face now going red as you choked on your drink, your friend, who Emily now realised she knew from when you dated, rubbing your back. Oh no... When the coughing stopped, you immediately looked back at her, confirming your suspicions. She returned your eye contact, awkwardly waving at you before you were suddenly facing away from her, refusing for the interaction to continue, earning a sympathetic look from your friend.

Emily heard a chorus of "Oof" and "Oh"s from the team, who were all cringing at the interaction. "Shut up." Emily groaned, stealing a shot from in front of Derek and downing it. She coughed twice, ignoring Derek's complaints, and turned to Spencer who was now telling them a statistic about exes. "It was actually found that 44% of Americans get back with their exes at some point after breaking up. And that only includes relationships post-break up instead of one night stands, so I'd say your chances are pretty high."

As much as Emily was unimpressed that Reid was giving her dating advice, she found herself walking up to you the minute your friend left, leaving you alone at the bar. Better me than anyone else shooting their shot, she thought. It was only when she stood right next to you that she realised she had no idea what to say and that the entire team was probably watching their interaction. She cleared her throat, muttering a small "Hey." You jumped slightly, rotating on the bar stool to face your ex-girlfriend. Emily expect you to frown, thrown your drink in her face even, but to her shock, you cracked a small smile at her. "Hey Em". "Can I sit?" She asked, shifting her weight from one leg to another.

You nodded, watching her as she sat. She looked different. She had cut her hair into bangs and wore her hair pin straight instead of the loose curls she'd put them in. She wore a low cut black top with black jeans as well as her go to combat boots. You assumed she came here straight from work. When you looked back up at her face, she was still staring at you, her gaze stuck on your thighs. "Um, can I get you a drink or something?" Her head shot up and she shook it "No, I've had enough to drink. Thanks." A long awkward silence followed and you looked over at the table she had come from, watching as all of her friends' heads shot in the opposite direction apart from one of them, still cluelessly observing you.

"I'm sorry - I shouldn't have-" "No!" You cut her off, cheeks going rosy. "Why don't we go for a walk or something?"

That walk led you both to the side of the road, waiting for a taxi as you made small talk, no discussion of going to either of your apartments until you were both sat in the back of the taxi on the way to your flat. Emily's hand rested on your thigh, both of your sides pressed against each other, faces mere inches apart as her free hand snaked around your waist, pulling you closer to her. You felt your desire for Emily grow, squeezing your thighs together to get any amount of friction.

Emily's eyes caught the movement, smiling slightly as she felt her own core heat up for you. She leaned towards you to look out of the window, pressing her tits up against you as she tried to see how far away you were from the apartment, making small talk while you waited. The second the taxi driver pulled the car over, she was tossing her money at him and following you out of the car, both her hands resting on your hips as you led her into your fancy building and towards the elevator. The second you were in the elevator, pressing the button to the right floor, her hands were wrapping around your waist and she was pressing her lips against the soft skin of your neck.

You grabbed her hand when the elevator doors opened, leading the way to your apartment and frantically opening and shutting the door before you turned around, throwing yourself into Emily's arms. You slammed your lips onto hers, wrapping your arms around her neck as you pressed your body against hers. Her hands were immediately under the skirt of your dress, groping the fat of your ass in her hands. You pulled away from the kiss, muttering "couch" to Emily, who complied, bending down slightly so she could wrap her arms around the back of your legs and picking you up.

You squealed as she walked you over to your big couch, having forgotten about her FBI agent strength. She dropped you on the couch, crawling over you but you pushed her back so she fell flat on her back on the large couch, throwing a leg over her hips to straddle her. She tried sitting up but you pushed her back, kissing her again so she would give in, letting you take control of the kiss. Her hands trailed up your body until they reached your tits and she tugged at the front of your dress, letting them spill out the front of it. You gasped, and she took your shock to her advantage, throwing her hips up into yours and rolling over so she was on top of you.

Her hands were instantly on your tits, pulling and twisting at your nipple, the other one in her mouth. "Em, Emily!" You begged, trying to grind your hips into hers but she wouldn't listen, taking her time kissing all over your body. When she couldn't reach any more skin due to the fabric of your dress, she fully separated from you, ordering you to turn around so she could undo the zipper. So you got up onto your knees, allowing Emily to undo your dress and pull it above your head, before her hands were wandering again, down your stomach and into the skimpy panties you wore.

She moaned into your ear, feeling how wet you were before both her hands were at your hips again and she was tugging you towards her as she fell backwards, landing you in her laps. She welcomed your kisses, tightly gripping your hips as you ground your cunt on her jean-clad skin. Eventually, you got desperate, tugging her shirt up so you could feel underneath it, hungrily reaching for her tits. At your whine, she finishes the job for you, tossing her shirt somewhere in the room before your hands were back behind her, unclasping her bra.

Before you manage to throw yourself onto Emily even further, you feel her hand under your panties, immediately searching for your clit, which she finds in mere seconds. You hear yourself begging for her, struggling to hold yourself above her. Emily's hands manhandle you so your back in pressed against hers, your legs spread in front of you. Her hands begin wandering once more, and she inserts two fingers into your warm core. You cry out, arching your back as Emily continues to suck hickeys onto your neck.

Her unoccupied hand plays with your tits, alternating which one she massages. Your head rests in the crook of her next, trying not to buck your hips into her hand as she continues fingering you. Your chest heaves with each breath you take, and you're too far into pleasure land to think of how much of a mistake you were making. You feel the familiar knot building up in your stomach and whimper, your hands reaching below you to grasp Emily's thigh. Moaning loudly with an arch of your back, you cum on Emily's hand. Emily, who is whispering praises in your ear and brushing your hair out of your face with her free hand.

With the effects of your orgasm now gone and you catching your breath, you begin to internally cringe. Why on earth did you think this was a good idea? You will yourself to turn around in Emily's arms, whispering "Your turn", fully aware that she wouldn't say yes. "No baby, it's okay. This is just about you." You nod, allowing yourself to fall onto the couch beside her. "I'm gonna go get cleaned up." Dragging yourself up from the couch, your legs still shaking, you shut the bathroom door before Emily gets the time to follow you.

You wrap a free towel around your torso, mentally cussing yourself out, thinking of a way to get Emily out of your house. The clock on the wall reads 3:28. It's late. You should go home. Repeating the words to yourself, you open the bathroom door to be met with the tall brunette. She smiles widely, a hand coming to your hip to bring you close and kiss you softly. You return her kiss but can't bring yourself to do the same with a smile. She senses the change in your behaviour and you take that as your chance to tell her: "It's late. You should go." You look down and away from her face so you can't see the way her smile drops. "Right. Um, this was fun." Your hum is enough of an answer to her and you practically chase her to the door once she's fully clothed.

Once the door is shut behind her, you peek through the peep hole to see her bring a hand up to her forehead, squeezing her eyes shut. She calls someone on the phone, someone you can only imagine was at the table with her at the bar. Listening closely through the door, you hear "No Derek, I did not win her heart back. She's really done with me."

But it's late. You should go sleep.

#emily prentiss #emily prentiss x you #emily prentiss x female reader #emily prentiss x reader #rainydayathogwarts #emily prentiss smut #emily prentiss angst #angst #female reader #smut #criminal minds #criminalmindsfandom #criminal minds fanfic #criminalminds #criminal minds fics #criminal minds fic #derek morgan #criminal minds smut #spencer reid

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kenjakusbrainstem · 8 months

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Always Staring (Yuuta x Reader)

Contains: Breast fucking, awkward first kisses, Yuuta being strange and off putting, reader probably more of a pervert than Yuuta though.

Hello! Day 2 of kinktober and I chose to do titfucking, despite having never written it before! I also have never written Yuuta despite him being one of my favorite characters. Always too afraid of mischaracterization. No fear of that now though! Crossposted to Ao3 under the same name and shared to twitter as kenjakusbrain. Comment or like if you have any thoughts!

This wasn’t the first time you’d caught Yuuta staring at your chest. It had become something you expected when the two of you went on missions together, at some point you knew you’d look over and see him lost in thought, eyes affixed on your cleavage. You never pointed it out, knowing he’d be far too embarrassed if you said anything. Plus, you didn’t mind the attention from him, as your crush on him had been steadily growing the more time you spent together.

You were both seated in the back of Ijichi’s car, returning to campus after another successful mission. Only, this time the curse you’d been sent to exorcize had been near a lake, which had led to the two of you falling in at one point. Not the worst thing to happen and you hadn’t thought much of it at the time, but now that you weren’t preoccupied with fighting you could tell he was distracted. It was late so perhaps he felt safer looking in the dark, but you could feel his eyes glued to your now nearly see through white button up.

Not that he was in much better shape, his own shirt stuck to the skin in a way that let you get a better look at his nice chest. Though it was different, you supposed, trying to avoid looking at his shirt. You felt your cheeks flush as you noticed how he was gripping his thigh. He looked lost in thought but you could tell he was exerting some kind of self control the way his nails dug into his slacks.

Without thinking, you reached out and grabbed his hand. The motion startled him and his eyes quickly jumped from your chest to your face. You could see the mix of fear and anxiety mounting on his face, the near permanent worry line on his forehead forming.

Smiling softly, you tried to diffuse the tension by shaking your head at him. You didn’t want to talk about this in front of Ijichi of all people, you were just hoping to calm him down in some way. The stressed look didn’t quite leave Yuuta’s face, but he nodded back at you, allowing you to take his hand and move it from his thigh.

You had expected him to pull his hand away, not to leave it resting awkwardly in yours.

A half formed idea made its way to the front of your mind. Perhaps Yuuta wasn’t the only one feeling bold in the dark backseat of the car. You brought his hand over to your own thigh, pressing his palm down onto the bare skin above your knee. You could feel him freeze up, more anxious now than when he’d realized you caught him staring. Moving your fingers along his, forcing him to apply more pressure.

Once you felt him knead your thigh on his own, you moved your hand up, caressing his wrist with your thumb. A half hearted attempt to soothe him after you were the one to stress him out. You weren’t entirely sure what your goal was, but it felt nice to have his warm hand on your skin. Part of you wanted to show him in some way that you wanted his attention, but it's harder to say things out loud than it is to just use your hands. You knew Yuuta well enough that you were sure he’d have a heart attack if you brought this up in conversation.

The two of you remained like that, slowly touching one another in the darkness until the car came to a stop. His hand didn’t leave your thigh when the overhead light came on however, nor when the door opened. You found yourself grabbing his hand again, threading your fingers together this time as you drug him out of the car. He allowed you to pull him, not letting go even as he bowed to Ijichi while you thanked him for bringing you back so late.

Silently, you both made your way to the dorms, hands still clasped tightly together. It was late, so everything was quiet, you wanted nothing more than to return to your dorm and change clothes.

Passing Yuuta’s room, you noticed that he barely acknowledged that he should have stopped there, following you almost like a lost puppy on a leash.

Maybe he just wanted to walk you to your room? Yuuta had always been very considerate and polite, so it would make sense. You didn’t want to bring it up and chance him getting nervous, you wanted to show him you cared after all.

Once the two of you made it to your room at the end of the long hallway, you paused. Turning to Yuuta, you opened your mouth to speak, to thank him for the mission and for walking you to your room. But you couldn’t speak, something was off about the look in his eyes. He looked like an animal at the shelter, begging for adoption. His eyes pleading, a strange loneliness in them mixed with something you couldn’t recognize.

“Do you want to stay here?” You asked, unsure on whether it was against the rules to stay with a classmate. You wouldn’t mind letting him sleep in your room, you’d slept in Maki’s after missions before, so it wasn’t entirely too strange to just want to not be alone.

Thinking of how bold you felt in the darkness of the car, perhaps being alone with him could be good for both of you. The thought had your heart racing as you waited for him to answer.

“Please?” Yuuta’s voice was soft as he spoke. Quiet, as if he thought being too loud might ruin whatever was going on in this moment.

You squeezed his hand tighter and opened the door, letting him follow you in before turning on the light. Fortunately, your room wasn’t much of a mess, just some open textbooks on your bed as clutter.

Awkwardly you both stood, looking anywhere but at each other. You were about to offer him a seat on your bed, but then you realized he was also still in wet clothing.

“Our clothes are too wet to sit anywhere, did you want to go back to your room and change? You can still come back,” You offered, feeling a little unsure of yourself now. You had almost forgotten how wet you were, but looking at Yuuta in the light you could clearly see how his shirt clung to his skin.

Yuuta had noticed as well, eyes once again stuck on your chest. You could clearly see the outline of your black bra against the white cotton. Your cheeks flushed again, part of you wanting to take your hand back from him and cover up. A different part of you, perhaps the same one that urged you to take his hand earlier, wanted you to change clothes right here in front of him and see what kind of reaction you could pull from him.

“No, I don’t want to leave,” Yuuta said, shaking his head at your question. He was a quiet person, usually due to his shyness, but however awkward the situation seemed, you didn’t sense any of Yuuta’s normal shyness.

“Because you’d rather stare at my tits?” The question left your mouth before you had a chance to fully think about it. You weren’t upset, you enjoyed having Yuuta’s attention and the thought that he didn’t want to leave your side was perhaps what added to you being so forward.

An undignified sound came from Yuuta, as if the question had smacked him in the back of the head. His eyes flew up to yours, worry now taking over any other emotion that swam in them earlier. There was the Yuuta you knew, stuttering to try and come up with some proper apology. His hand dropped yours as he stepped back slightly, trying to put some space between you.

“Did you think I didn’t notice? You’re always looking at them, how could I not notice?” You asked, more out of curiosity, did he really think he was being discrete?

He shook his head, his cheeks red with embarrassment.

“N-no, I mean yes I do notice sometimes, but you, you never said anything so,” Yuuta struggled to get out a sentence, tripping over his words as he spoke.

You felt bad for teasing him, the guilty look on his face making you want to hold him and apologize even if you had done nothing wrong.

“Maybe I like that you look at them,” You confessed. Your words made him freeze, the look of panic on his face turning to one of confusion. Slowly you brought your hands up to the collar of your damp shirt. “Do you want to see more?”

Yuuta blinked at you, still unsure if he was hearing this right. He figured he may have actually failed the mission today because this had to be some sort of heaven. He nodded, eyes drifting down to your fingers, eagerly awaiting what would happen next.

Without a word you slowly began to unbutton the shirt. It wasn’t hard, but you were still a little embarrassed, you’d never exposed yourself to another, let alone the person you’ve had a developing crush on! As your fingers reached the last button you shrugged the damp material off of your shoulders, baring more skin to him.

“Can I?” Yuuta asked, voice eager as he reached both of his hands out, gesturing at your chest. You weren’t completely exposed, bra still on. For some reason, you had a feeling it wouldn’t last long.

Nodding, you held still as Yuuta’s curious hands cupped your breasts. He squeezed them gently through the material of your bra. The pressure felt okay, but you knew that it would feel much better with his warm hands on your skin. You wanted more, and you could tell he did too.

Hands sneaking behind your back, you undid the clasp on your bra with a practiced ease. Yuuta’s hands froze as he felt the material come loose, falling to the floor.

The look on his face was one you would never forget, his eyes wide and face red, it was cute how amazed he seemed to be. You leaned toward him, shivering as your nipples brushed up against the palms of his hands.

His hands, rough from using his sword, kneaded your soft breasts. The pads of his fingers teasingly rubbing against your sensitive nipples, it felt so much nicer when he touched you than when you touched yourself. Yuuta didn’t know what he was doing, you knew that, but that didn’t matter when it felt so good.

Wanting to make him feel good too you let your hands fall to the front of his black pants, making short work of his belt before he could stop you. Pushing them down wasn’t hard, but he was trying to keep them up, moving his hips to try and move beyond your reach. He was still too fixated on kneading your breasts that he didn’t even think to use his hands.

While he was distracted, a thought crossed your mind, a bold one not unlike the thought you had in the car. Quickly you decided that you’d rather push this night as far as it could go than wait for Yuuta to make more of a move.

You pushed on his hips just hard enough to send him falling onto your bed. Softly bouncing in surprise as he hadn’t expected that. Yuuta looked up at you, wondering if he had done something wrong. You watched his eyes grow even wider as you got on your knees before him. Reaching out, you looped your fingers into his waistband and pulled his pants and underwear down, revealing his cock, hard and curving up toward his belly button.

Wonder and lust mixed inside you as you moved to feel him, your hand wrapping around him slowly. A gasp left his lips as you felt just how soft the skin on his hard cock was, it felt so perfect in your hand.

Before you could do anything else, a hand tightly wound in your hair, pulling you up just enough to meet Yuuta’s lips in a desperate kiss. The kiss was messy, your teeth bumping together as your tongue brushed up against his. Both of you were wound tight with excitement and a yearning for each other's bodies.

As messy as the kiss was, it was your first kiss. Sloppy and frantic, but it somehow felt like you both were just excited to be intimate with one another. You felt Yuuta’s hand leave your hair, allowing you to pull back enough to breathe. Looking up at him made you want to kiss him again, his lips wet and mouth open slightly.

“I, figured we should, you know, have our first kiss before, well before whatever you're doing,” Yuuta’s nervousness could be felt as he spoke, tripping over his words as you continued to kneel before him.

Yuuta’s lapse back into shyness from his demanding kiss made your heart swell. No matter what was happening, he was still just as adorable as always.

You smiled up at him before returning your eyes to the leaking cock in front of you. You could tell just how excited he was, and you couldn’t deny you were excited too.

“Ever since I noticed you staring at my tits so much, I’ve thought about how much you probably want to feel them,” You explained, nervousness making you feel awkward as you spoke. “I thought you’d like this too.”

You cupped your breasts in your hands, adjusting the way you sat until you were at the right angle to lean forward and envelop his cock with them. A needy whine left his throat as you squeezed Yuuta’s cock in between your soft breasts. You could feel his thighs tremble as you slowly moved them up and down, enjoying the feeling of his throbbing cock between them.

Yuuta didn’t know what to do with his hands, lifting both of them to his mouth to try and keep all the sounds he was making inside. Neither of you wanted to wake anyone that would stop this. With every pass of the head of his cock in between your soft flesh you could feel him leaking all over your chest.

The noises you pulled from Yuuta had devolved from soft moans to whimpers the longer you stroked his cock. You weren’t sure how much longer he would last, but if his strained cock was any indication, he was close. The flushed head stood out against the skin on your bare chest.

Your movements felt euphoric to Yuuta, your skin so much softer than he could have imagined. The way your flesh cradled his cock made it hard for him to keep going. You just made him feel so much better than his hand could.

Yuuta’s hips moved, following your lead. After a few shallow tries he was thrusting earnestly into your soft breasts. You tried to match his pace, but his eagerness proved more impatient. Slowing your motions, you allowed him to fuck himself until he couldn’t any longer.

Yuuta came suddenly, release hitting you on the chest and face. Neither of you had expected it to happen yet. His thrusts slowed as he settled back on the bed, allowing you to keep up your movements, milking every drop from him.

Reaching behind you, you grabbed your discarded shirt and wiped the mess off of your face and chest. He had laid back on your bed as you cleaned yourself up. Crawling up next to him, you kissed his cheek, there would be more time to explore each other later.

#jjk #jjk smut #yuuta x reader #yuuta okkotsu #yuta okkotsu #yuta x reader #jjk x reader #kinktober #kinktober 2023

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querenciasturniolo · 6 months

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so glad ur reqs are back open, it's been too long

anyways, idea where chris goes on a blind date one of his brothers set up for him and just has the time of his life with this girl, eventually leading to them sharing a kiss at the end of the night

nonsense ⮕ c.s.

word count: 1.5k

warnings: swearing, chris’ pov, frustration, fluff, a smooch (i’m not sorry for being corny), like one use of y/n

summary: request

a/n: agreed, it’s been WAY too long. i’m obsessed with this concept, thank you so much for sending it in 🫶🏻

p.s. this is my all time favorite picture of chris. he just looks so fucking pretty i cab’t handle it

everything written is completely fictional. the people i write for are written with characteristics and mannerisms that i made for them, this is in no way depicting what would actually happen in real life.

“And you’re sure about this?” Chris said into the speaker, the sigh on the other end of the phone had him rolling his eyes.

“Yes, Chris. I’m sure about this, could you just trust me for once?”

He sighed and ran a hand over his face. Matt’s attitude this entire conversation had him on his last nerve.

“Okay fine, I’ll just let you know how it goes.” He grumbled, hanging up the phone and sliding it in his pocket.

If he were being honest, he really hated Matt right now. Okay, he didn’t hate him, but he wasn’t too happy with him in the slightest. Matt set him up on this date, and if it weren’t for both of his brothers shoving him out the door and into his Uber, he wouldn’t be in this restaurant waiting for you.

Chris decided that the moment he saw you, he was going to let you down easy. Maybe tell you he wasn’t ready to go on a date with someone he didn’t know. Matt had shown him a picture of you, and vouched for your greatness the entire time Nick was throwing outfits in his face for him to try on. If he was honest, Nick and Matt were more enthused about this blind date than he was.

“Chris?”

Chris looked up from his hands with furrowed brows, his mind going completely blank when his eyes met yours. You looked better in person, and because of it, his nerves skyrocketed.

Wow.

You frowned. “What?” You asked, Chris’ cheeks flushed red at the realization that he’d said that out loud.

“Nothing, um. Hi, yeah. I’m Chris. You’re Y/n?” He stood from his chair as you nodded and awkwardly stuck out his hand. You looked down at his hand with an amused look and met his eyes again as you tentatively shook it.

Jesus, this is already going well.

“How do you know Matt?” Chris asked, pulling your chair out for you and pushing it in once you sat.

“Wow, a gentleman.” You teased, smiling at Chris from across the table as he sat back down. You shrugged and reached for the glass of water in front of him. He watched your movements like a hawk as you took a sip from his glass and sat it back down. “Oh you know, it’s LA. Everyone knows everyone.” You said, Chris raising an eyebrow and nodding his head. “I’m kidding.” You said with a grin. “I’m a friend of Madi’s. Matt came to pick Nick up one night when all three of us were hanging out, and he sparked up a conversation.”

Chris nodded, the pressure in his chest relieving a bit when he realized at least one of his brothers knew you more than just your name and face.

“Sorry about the blind date thing, I don’t even know why they thought it’d be a good idea.” Chris said humorlessly, his brows furrowing when seeing your expression drop.

“This is a blind date?” You whispered, Chris’ stomach dropping as he fumbled over his words to apologize. Before a single, coherent sentence could leave his lips, a smile broke out across your face and you covered your mouth with your hand.

“Oh my God, I’m sorry. I was trying to break the tension, bad joke, that’s my fault.” You said, covering your amused laugh with a cough. Chris chuckled nervously and nodded.

“Of course, yeah.” He mumbled, taking a sip of his water and looking around the restaurant awkwardly.

You cleared your throat, his eyes immediately flickering to your incredulous stare.

“We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to, you know that right? I can text Matt and say that this was a bad idea.” You said.

It almost relaxed him a bit to know that you were willing to end the date to make him more comfortable, and instead of doing what he’d planned on in the first place, he shook his head.

“No, it’s fine. I’m just a little nervous.”

It was obvious that he was nervous, why the hell would he say that? Maybe he should just cancel this date, go home, and tell Matt that if he ever had another person to set him up with, to not bother.

“I am, too.” You said, catching his attention. He frowned and tilted his head to the side.

“Why are you nervous?” He asked, a soft scoff coming from your lips.

“I’m on a date with a guy I’ve never met at the advice of his brothers that I barely know, you could be a murderer, Chris.” You said. Chris rolled his eyes and shook his head.

“You really think I could be a murderer when I’m sweating fucking bullets just trying to figure out what to say to you?” He asked.

You nodded your head. “You could be sweating because you’re worried about getting caught.” You said. Chris snorted and grinned down at his lap. “There we go, I knew I could get you to smile.”

Chris looked up at you then, your own smile beaming as you scanned his face. He squared his shoulders and set his gaze on you. “How about we start over?” He asked. Your smile grew impossibly wider and you nodded. He cleared his throat dramatically. “Hi, I’m Chris. I’m not a murderer, and I’d like to get to know you.”

You rolled your eyes and sighed. “Hi, I’m Y/n. I’m glad you’re not a murderer, and that was the cheesiest thing I’ve ever heard in my life.”

The rest of the dinner went by smoothly, the both of you laughing and joking and flirting, much to Chris’ surprise, like you’d been doing it your whole life. It wasn’t until the two of you were walking towards your car that he realized this date was over, and he really didn’t want it to be.

“I had fun.” He said, his voice coming out soft as you dug through your bag for your keys. You met his eyes and smiled shyly.

“So did I.” You replied, dropping your hands to your sides and looking around the empty parking lot.

Chris wanted to ask if you would like to go out again, maybe at a more casual location that wouldn’t have both of your nerves going crazy, but before he could, you met his eyes again.

“Do you want a ride home?” You asked. Chris scoffed.

“Now who sounds like a murderer?”

You rolled your eyes and bit your lip to contain your smile. “It’s a yes or no question, you ass. The offer expires soon, you better think fast.” You teased, reaching for the door handle as Chris shook his head and walked towards the passenger seat.

“My brothers have my location, so don’t get any ideas.”

The drive to his house consisted of the two of you chattering over the music he insisted on playing, much to your disdain. But as much as you complained about how it all sounded the same to you, he couldn’t help but notice the soreness of his cheeks from smiling so much.

“Well.” You started, putting the car in park and turning to face him. “Home sweet home.”

He glanced out the window at the house, disappointment clouding his mood as he nodded.

“I guess I’ll see you around.” He said. You mumbled a goodbye as he stepped out of the car. He had barely heard the door latch before he scoffed and ripped the car door back open. He climbed into the passenger seat and leaned over the console, his face inches from your shocked one.

“Do you want to go out again sometime?” He asked, his breath fanning across your face. You nodded slowly and blinked up at him. He grinned down at you, his eyes flickering to your lips before he nodded. “Good.”

His lips were pressed to yours before he could even register what he was doing, his entire body feeling as though it was igniting in flames. You were hesitant at first, but sooner rather than later you were sinking into it and humming against his lips. He pulled away and smiled softly at you.

“I’ll text you.” He mumbled. You nodded again, your eyes dazed as you watched him step out of the car and shut the door.

He was grinning the entire walk to the house, and even when he stepped into the living room. Matt and Nick were sitting on the couch, trying their best to look like they were there for any other reason than to ask him how it went. Matt saw his face first, and his smirk was smug.

“I told you you’d have a good time.” He said. Chris rolled his eyes for what felt like the millionth time that night.

“Yeah, yeah. I need her number off of one of you. Preferably, like, now.” He said, never stopping his movements as he made his way down the stairs to his bedroom. His phone vibrated in his pocket as he dropped down onto his bed. Good, one of them sent him your contact information.

He pulled his phone from his pocket and tapped the notification without even reading it, a grin spreading across his face at the contents of the message.

now, what was that nonsense about you texting me?

tags: @strniolo , @toyourloves , @ssturniolo , @jellybeanbby , @thetriplets3 , @mxriverse , @stvrni0lo , @gabbylovesreading , @dwntwn-strnlo , @tylerscreat0r , @lvrsparadise , @angelcake-222 , @20nugs , @obsessivencrazy , @lollibumblebee , @stargirlv0id , @idontexistman , @emssturniolo

#sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo #chris sturniolo blurb #chris sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo x reader #querenciasturniolo

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serendipityandbenevolence · 3 months

Text

Arlecchino x GN Reader (SAGAU)

I kinda can’t believe that I’ve written 3 fanfics in 24 hours, after not writing for a year, but idk. I’m motivated and don’t have much else to do (except ignoring my bio homework) (send help, what the hell is osmosis?) I thought about writing for Pantalone next, but @nervouseaglelover requested Arlecchino and I am nothing if not a people pleaser. This may be ooc, but idk SAGAU is nothing if not ooc if we’re being honest. I’m starting this at 6'o clock my time, so hopefully it’ll be done by 9 or 10, if I’m being productive.

Contains - Arlecchino girlbossing, gaslighting and gatekeeping you, her being obsessed with you, mentions of death and murder, mentions of Dottore's head collection (don't ask, it came to me in a dream), tartaglia being beat up by Arlecchino for the second time in this series

Part one is here - the masterlist for the other endings is here

“Arlecchino?”

If you were being entirely honest, you expected a little more … decorum when you had called for Arlecchino. Not the veritable swarm of Harbingers that appeared in your doorway, the moment her name had left your mouth. All of the Harbingers, excluding the one whose name you had uttered.

Tartaglia was at the front of the pack, to little surprise, with his eyes bright with curiosity and a liveliness you rarely saw through a screen. Tucked away to the side was Pantalone, who looked far more … weary than you had expected. His eyes, compared to Tartaglia’s, were bloodshot and dull, with an aura of tiredness radiating off him. You could faintly see the silhouettes of who you assumed to be Capitano and Pierro in the back, looming over the others, and Signora, who stood tall behind Tartaglia, eyes fixed coldly upon you.

You waited, expecting someone to explain why they were ominously standing in your doorway, eyes silently surveying you. But no explanation came and no more movements were made, they seemed almost fixed in your doorway, as though they were waiting for something from YOU.

“Arlecchino?”

You repeated her name again, craning your neck to see if she was merely hidden behind one of her coworkers, concealed by her taller companions. But she did not appear, and you were beginning to wonder if she was not there at all.

Until a perfectly manicured hand reached through the flock of Harbingers and firmly gripped Tartaglia by his hair, dragging him away from the doorway as she stepped into his place.

“Tartaglia, it is awfully rude to be lingering in the doorway like that, not even bothering to greet Their Grace. Such impoliteness does not make a good first impression.”

Arlecchino’s sweetly poisoned words broke the silence, inspiring a string of curses from the 11th Harbinger and some muffled laughter from what sounded like the Balladeer, although you could not see him to confirm. But Arlecchino ignored them and turned to you, eyes soft and yet … hungry. Possessive.

“You called for me, Your Grace? How may I be at your service?”

Her honeyed words and dark eyes had you entranced, almost unable to speak, to respond to her question.

“Oh, I was just wishing to speak to you…”

Arlecchino’s smile widened and she stepped into your room, spinning to address her fellow Harbingers.

“Well, you heard Their Grace. I will be … conversing with them, so please give us some privacy. I’m certain that you all can find something else to do with your time, rather than stand here awkwardly.”

The crack of her slamming the doors in the other Harbingers faces made you jump, but you barely had time to process it before Arlecchino started prowling towards you. Her smile was friendly, but the darkness in her eyes remained, making you nervous. At least, that’s what you assumed those feelings were.

“Oh, Your Grace, look at your hair! It must have gotten all matted while you were resting. Here, let me fix it for you.”

“Huh? My hair feels fi-”

Your words were abruptly cut off as Arlecchino sat down on the side of your bed, tugging you towards her as she wrapped her arms around your waist, pressing your back to her chest. One of her hands made its way to your head, but rather than attempting to fix any knots that may or may not exist, she just tucked your hair behind your ears.

“Your Grace, I understand that you may be worried about those heretics who attempted to take your life. I would like to assure you that you are perfectly safe and that I am ensuring you will never have to worry about them ever again.” She whispered softly into your ear.

Still caught up with the whiplash of the hair, to the hugging, to the thinly veiled threats of murder, you found yourself rather unable to form a coherent response, instead choking out a rather unintelligent sounding ‘mhm’. But Arlecchino didn’t seem to mind, instead giggling softly at your lack of a response.

“I’m glad to see that you are … unbothered by your attackers. My children are hard at work making sure you are kept safe, but knowing that you are already at ease makes me a little less concerned for you.”

“Your children? Do you mean the children of the House of the Hearth?” You finally managed to ask, only just now able to form meaningful sentences again.

“Indeed, you are very intelligent, Your Grace! My children are fetching the heads of your attackers as we speak, bless their hearts. My children are very devoted to you, I hardly even needed to make the suggestion to track down those pieces of scum. I have a great many heads already, if you wish to see them? I have made sure that they are well preserved, so you can gaze upon the mostly intact heads of your enemies without the fear of them beginning to smell.”

“Oh! That’s … uhm … very kind of you? I don’t think I need to see any heads though?”

“Very well then, I will give them to Dottore to add to his collection. I’m sure he will find them a rather pleasant gift, although perhaps not as nice as being able to slay your enemies in person.”

While trying to cope with the second round of emotional whiplash in the last 5 minutes, mostly due to the unwanted knowledge of the fact that the Doctor has a HEAD COLLECTION, you turned to Arlecchino, hoping to inquire more about her ‘children’.

But instead, you found her staring at you with an uncharacteristically stern expression.

“Your Grace.”

“Arlecchino?”

She leaned in close to you, so your faces were only inches apart. You would have thought it was romantic if her eyes were not quite so severe.

“I am a Harbinger. But I am a devotee to you, first and foremost. So, should the need ever arise … Say the word and I will kill any of them.”

“Pardon?” You managed to choke out.

“You heard me, Your Grace. Say the word and I will kill any Harbinger, any Archon, any human or beast that you wish.”

Arlecchino kept eye contact with you for only a moment longer, before smiling and releasing you from her grasp, standing as she did so.

“I believe I hear Pierro calling for me. Forgive me, Your Grace, I must leave you to rest now.”

“But I don’t hear anyone calling for you?”

“Oh? Maybe you were not listening hard enough?” She smiled sweetly and made her way to the door, her lingering words all that remained of her, despite your hurried pleas for her to stay.

“Sweet dreams, Your Grace.”

I actually wrote this in less then 2 hours, I’m lowkey impressed with myself. I know the ending is kinda rushed and vague, but i also totally see Arlecchino gaslighting you like that to get out of a convo. I had a really good time writing this, so I hope yall have a good time reading this! Probably Pantalone next? Idk, we’ll see. I’ve learned not to make promises about my writing anymore.

#genshin impact #genshin sagau #genshin x reader #fatui x reader #sagau x reader #yandere genshin #genshin headcanons #arlecchino x reader #arlecchino genshin

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haoboutyou · 5 months

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when jihoon is in love | lee jihoon

fluff | 600-ish | no warnings

an: a lil jihoon brainrot for my wifey @bluehoodiewoozi 🫶

when jihoon is in love, you’re on his mind 24/7. it’s written on his face whenever you’re the topic of conversation with his members. it’s to the point soonyoung has to cover jihoon’s mouth whenever he talks about you. he does the utmost research when it comes to taking you out for dates, always wanting to make sure you have a comfortable and enjoyable time with him.

he stares at you like you’ve put up all the stars in the sky. to him, you are -the most precious thing to ever exist. he takes all of your compliments and criticisms seriously, and strives to be a better man for you.

when jihoon loves, he does it quietly.

he’s not very vocal about it. he loves in head pats, in bumping shoulders, in holding your hand. he loves in linking pinkies when you walk, in giving you free access to his studio, in the small glances he sends your way when he thinks you’re not looking. he loves in remembering the little things; cheering you on a project you had only mentioned briefly once, remembering your favourite cafe order, carrying an extra hair tie around because he knows you prefer your hair out of your face, despite insisting on having your hair down because you know he finds it pretty.

the best way he’s found to show his love, however, is through his music.

when jihoon loves like that, he’s louder than the roar of a formula one car, louder than the call of a blue whale. his love songs are all dedicated to you; they end up being his most streamed songs. the love and passion he has for you is so clear in them that it’s like looking through glass.

you always have the honour of first listen whenever he writes his songs. he sits you on his lap, arms around you as he navigates his laptop to start the song. the listening party always ends up with you endlessly praising his work, and him a blushing mess as he hides behind your shoulders. however, the very first time he shows you a rough draft of his music, you cry. you cry because you’re so overwhelmed by your love for him, and by his love for you. jihoon panics because that was the first time you’ve ever cried in front of him, awkwardly wrapping an arm around you and pulling you into his chest as you sob declarations of love into his shoulder.

(he ranks that day second out of his top 10 proudest moments; just lower than the day he successfully proposed to you and slightly higher than winning daesangs with his team.)

when jihoon is in love, his entire viewpoint changes. all of a sudden, the sun reminds him of your warm touch, and the wind is as gentle as your fingers when you card them through his hair. he learns to take on the optimistic outlook you have in life, and grows to appreciate the mundane. especially when it’s with you.

#woozi #seventeen #lee jihoon #svt #woozi fluff #lee jihoon fluff #svt fluff #seventeen fluff #woozi scenarios #lee jihoon scenarios #seventeen scenarios #svt scenarios #˙✧˖° aiyu writes ༘ ⋆｡˚

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vanessamooney · 2 months

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The Age of Us Pt. 2 - Draco x Reader

Prompt: Glimpses into your lives through the years

Pairing: Draco x Slytherin!Reader

Part 1. Part 3 coming soon!

In Second Year you're starting to stand on your feet properly. You've come to Diagon Alley with Draco and his father just before the semester has started to collect the year's new spell books and props. The list sent out by Hogwarts was longer than last years and you'd become increasingly worried about being able to keep up between 'Gadding with Ghouls' and 'Holidays with Hags', all written by Gilderoy Lockhart no less.

The alley streets were bustling with witches and wizards of all sorts, pointed hats bouncing around comically and brooms alike. You had already run into fellow classmates from Hogwarts and stopped a plethora of times for polite conversation and familial introductions. Lucius has now excused himself from the two of you, trusting Draco with a satchel filled to the brim with gold galleons, instructing you two to meet him in front of Flourish and Botts with the books ready in exactly thirty minutes.

'I trust you'll be on time, Draco,' he sneered at his son, tapping his back with the serpentine cane he never parted ways with. When he turned to give you a polite nod and pat on the head with a heavy hand, he did so with a strange upturn of the corners of his lips. He had always liked you.

You weren't sure what Lucius had gone off to do or where he was doing whatever exactly, but you relished in the freedom because you'd been eyeing Magical Menagerie the second you all floo-powdered into the shopping district and had been scheming to convince Lucius and Draco to take you there.

Glancing at Draco with softened eyes, he's looking a little bit low-spirited and the weight of the galleons makes one of his arms hang lower than the other, so you pull him along by his shorter hand and shoot him a smile that lights up your entire face and makes his heart oddly skip a beat.

'Come on, Draco,' You egg him on, scratching the inside of his palm with your nails because you know he is ticklish there, and you know it will cheer him up, even if only momentarily.

He lets out a giggle only you can hear but you don't pay much attention because when you arrive outside Magical Menagerie you're bewitched by the sight before you: a grey kitten small enough to fit into your hands locked in a cage at the storefront. You coo at it, immediately forgetting about the blonde boy awkwardly trailing behind you.

'Wolfcat,' you read aloud the silver tag on the front of the rusted iron bars, 'female, 10 galleons,'

You whip around to your best friend and grab his free hand, squeezing it in excitement for all that you've got.

'Draco, how incredibly adorable she is!' you squeal, watching his stormy eyes soften at the sight before him.

He walks up to the front of the cage, poking a wiggling finger in through the bars to antagonise the creature and he is pleasantly surprised to find it rub its head against him, her yellow eyes big and glaring.

'I suppose she is,' He shrugs his shoulders, pulling a sulking Y/N along to Flourish and Botts in spite of your silent protests in the form of your pouts and glances off into the distance.

You had spent the entire time shopping for school books talking Draco's ears off about the kitten from earlier, so much so he was having to double check you were picking up the right copies of the books as you had placed the wrong ones in the basket too many times.

'Oh Draco, she was the sweetest thing' you went on, lazily dropping a copy of 'Intermediate Transfiguration' into the basket you tasked Draco with carrying.

When the two of you waited patiently out of the front of Flourish and Botts just as you'd agreed prior, you continued chatting as Draco seemingly zoned out, a heavy head in his hand. He thought about a peculiar bit of conversation he had overheard in your family's manor just a mere few weeks before first year began: 'The family owl is enough trouble,' your father would groan, his fingers squeezing the top of his nose bridge.

Draco himself didn't bring one of the three permitted animals to Hogwarts because he himself thought it was all too much effort for a companion and he already had his hands full with Crabbe, Goyle and you, not that he minded having his hands full with the latter.

With a sudden thought, he handed you the pile of textbooks that mere moments ago sat in his lap, practically shoving them into your hands.

'Ow, Draco, that's heavy, what are you…' you trailed off, watching his retreating form as he ran in the opposite direction of the meeting point.

'I'll be back soon!' he yelled back, but you were left all alone, confused and surrounded by hoards of strange witches and wizards.

Lucius finds you sitting on the stairs outside Flourish and Botts with a puffy pout on your lips, the stack of new books placed carelessly to your side. You've got your chin resting comfortably in your palms just as Draco did and you look to be in deep and confusing thought. He's got with him his own leather-bound book now clutched hard in his hands and he scans the rest of the crowd, but his son is no where to be seen. Pah. Of course.

'Y/N, where is Draco?' He askes, lending you a firm hand to help you up off the steps and you carefully slip your hand in his and jolt up, dusting off your robes with a sheepish smile.

"I'm not sure, he left some minutes ago and went that w…' you trail off when you glance in the direction Draco ran, gasping as you see the devil himself running towards you, eyes wide as dinner plates when they land on his father whom by now has turned to see his son making a fool of himself. He is clutching in his arms something that appears to be squirming and you squint to try and make out what it is.

A grey wolfkitten lands into your arms and Draco is so out of breath from running when he looks at your dazed expression but he still manages a smirk as you press a well-earnt kiss to his rosy cheeks.

Lucius taps his son on his back softly with his walking cane, raising an eyebrow and managing his own twinge of a smile tantalising the corners of his lips. He watches his son proudly as he is watching you.

The blurs of the everyday witches and wizards spinning around you don't catch your eye because you're mesmerised by the creature in your arms; mesmerised by your best friend, too. You catch a glimpse of the blue sky and see within it the night.

'I think I'll name her Cassiopeia,' your eyes twinkle like the constellation that falls from your lips and Draco watches the stars swirl within you.

╺╺╺╺╺╺╺

You're running through the hallways, Draco's hand in yours as you lead him to the Clocktower Courtyard. You are giggling and glancing back to him to make sure he's still keeping up with you and the opulent perfume in your hair blinds his senses. You shiver into him from the bitter winter breeze that stalks you through the castle and he grips your hand harder when he feels your vibrations.

You come to a stop when you're surrounded by greenery taking over archways, absorbing the glory of the courtyard with your eyes closed, taking in its sweet earthy aroma. An old water fountain lays in the middle of it all, guarded by four magnificent stone gargoyles on each corner. Moss and water has stained them a muddy grey, but your eyes are still enchanted from the view; you always liked coming here.

'Why are we here at this dingy old fountain, Y/N?' Draco groans, stretching a gloved hand to lean on a gargoyle. You gasp as his disrespect and you click your tongue, making him flail his arms as he tries to regain his balance.

'A dingy fountain?' You're scolding him like his mother usually does, repeating back his absurd view of the world around him. 'This isn't just any fountain,' you say, slithering around it, dancing your fingers from stone to stone, your gaze never leaving Draco's. 'Legend has it if you flick a knut into it while making a wish, it'll come true,'

The plush rabbit earmuffs on your head rises slightly as you speak, and with a gentle sigh Draco tenderly adjusts your earmuffs back down while anxiously avoiding your eyes as he tenderly touches you.

'Is that so?' he mumbles.

You nod eagerly at him, presenting two knuts in your gloved palm that you'd been saving in your pockets. He reluctantly takes one, giving you a strange look but you beam in elation anyway, enchanted by the glistening promises of the fountain. Draco holds the knut in his hand, his expression a mix of scepticism and curiosity. He takes a deep breath, feeling the weight of his wish on his heart.

With a mischievous grin, you look into Draco's stormy eyes and say, 'Alright, on the count of three. One… two… three!'

Simultaneously you both flick your knuts into the fountain, watching as they disappear beneath the surface with a small splash. You pat your flushed face with an awkward flutter of fingers, seeing if you feel any different, inspecting the grass below your feet just a little closer. The moment stretches, filled with anticipation and hope from the both of you.

'What did you wish for?' your voice is barely above a croaky whisper but you're unable to contain your excitement and ask anyway.

Draco hesitates for a moment, his gaze flickering between you and the fountain. He doesn't dare to admit he wished for you and the weight of his silence crushes you.

╺╺╺╺╺╺╺

Gilderoy Lockhart's charm filled the air like a sweet perfume, ensnaring the hearts of the young Gryffindor girls who hung on his every word. With a flick of his cape, he shed the garment, letting it fall carelessly into the eager crowd below, who scrambled to catch a piece of the famed hero.

You, however, had never been taken by Lockhart's facade. Even in the best of times, you found his antics grating, feigning ignorance whenever your dorm-mates gushed over his supposed heroic feats. One night, out of curiosity, you had reluctantly flipped through his autographed autobiography, but each boastful comment and exaggerated deed only served to deepen your disdain. Despite your love for reading, you couldn't bring yourself to admire a story painted in lies and arrogance.

But as Draco Malfoy was summoned to the stage by Snape to duel Harry, you found yourself eagerly pushing through the crowd of Slytherins to get a better view. You cheered when Draco sent Harry flying across the stage and winced when the tables turned, but it was when Draco summoned the snake that your heart skipped a beat. Watching in horror as Potter seemingly controlled the creature with a strange tongue, you were pulled away from the midst of the chaos by Draco's urgent grip, and he whisked you into the safety of the Slytherin common room.

"That Potter is downright evil, I'm telling you!" Draco seethed, his frustration palpable as he slammed his fists onto the desk. He was a hurricane when he wanted to be, pacing around with a heavy energy, turning from a constellation into a supernova. Potter did this often to him, and although the others insisted he was masterfully exaggerating, you never seemed to think so - something wasn't right with Harry, and now this.

Motioning for him to join you on the worn leather couch, Draco sank down beside you, his head falling heavily into your lap as he let out a weary sigh. You gazed down at him with wide eyes, offering silent comfort as you gently traced circles on the back of his hand. You were always there to trace circles on the back of his hand.

╺╺╺╺╺╺╺

When Draco tells you he has made the Slytherin Quidditch Team you're sat on the banks of the black lake. The sun is dancing upon the surface of the water, casting reflections within it that didn't quite seem to match with the gentle surroundings you're enveloped in but you pay it no attention because as Draco's words sink in, the world around you fades into insignificance.

The muggle book he despised that was grasped within your fingertips moments before hits the ground with a soft thump and the paper warps, staining with the green and brown of the ground. There is no room for a pregnant pause because before you can think of a congratulations worthy of Draco's achievements, you've already tackled him in a hug and twigs and dandelions have already intertwined in your hair and clothes; you're already grinning with glee, your faces already inches away and Draco has already licked his lips in anticipation but you press an adoring kiss to the side of his cheek and whisper to him how proud you are of him, in a way intended only for him to hear.

You don't notice the flash of disappointment in his eyes when your lips miss his, or how awkward his movements become. Nothing else matters, because your best friend is Slytherin's brand new Seeker and you can't possibly think of anything else.

╺╺╺╺╺╺╺

Christmas morning brings with it a myriad of thoughtfully wrapped packages from your family and friends, appearing under an evergreen pine decorated with baubles and ribbons in the Slytherin common room. You yawn audibly, rushing to flatten the wrinkles out of your Christmas pyjamas before you run down the stairs from your dorm. Draco is already waiting for you in the common room, leaning patiently against the oak table, his hair slicked back and his own pyjamas ironed completely straight. When he spots you paused at the top of the stairs, his eyes soften and he stretches his arms out in anticipation of feeling you nuzzled into his chest.

The decision to spend Christmas at Hogwarts this year didn't come easy, and you recall with a smile how you and Draco were making fun of students who did just a mere few weeks ago - after all, what else shows your parents love you other than stuffing you away in school over the holidays? But between the entertainment from the Chamber of Secrets being opened and the winter travels your parents embarked on without you, you and Draco both agreed to spend winter this year together at Hogwarts - despite Narcissa and Lucius' best wishes.

Crabbe and Goyle had also decided to stay the festive winter season to keep Draco and you company - despite your best wishes - and they now watched with narrow eyes from the couch as your petite figure floated down the girl's staircase and straight into Draco's arms. When he twirled you around the room they audibly wretched in disgust, but you felt like a princess anyway and they became TV static in the background of your mind.

To find a gift for Draco did not come easy. The lead up to Winter break was spent with hours of frustration and punctilious reading in the castle library as you diligently worked to fabricate from the thin Yule air a charmed snow globe containing a singular, shared memory:

Perched atop the dew-kissed grass surrounding the grandeur Malfoy Manor, air heavy with the scent of blooming night-flowers, the myriad of stars scattered across the heavens blinked like diamonds strewn upon midnight velvet. You saw within the stars a constellation that bore his name, the boy laying so arrantly next to you: Draco. And with a quiet reverence, you pointed upwards in awe, seeing within the stars him, and within him the very stars he had been named after.

With a soft smile tugging on your lips, you direct Draco to the pine, breaking your gaze buoyantly when you lean down to cradle the parchment wrapped globe that sat so patiently beneath the tree, a swirl of memories replaying in it persistently under its cover.

'For you,' you hand the package to him, biting your lip in anticipation, and you feel within you a twinge of constraint but your eyes gleam anyway, 'Merry Christmas, Draco.'

Draco couldn't break his gaze from your glowing face. As he tore the parchment away he did so neatly, mesmerised by the mere existence of you. The background of Christmas morning occupied by the calamities swirling in the black lake just outside the common room windows and the intrusive nature of his friends meant nothing to him because in that moment when his eyes found the memory you so tenderly illustrated within the snow globe, he could think of nothing else - and he didn’t want to.

╺╺╺╺╺╺╺

You're standing in the castle's greenhouse, its windows fogged up with humidity cut through by the slow paths of common snails as they journey into the unknown. The air outside is cool, Winter has started to take its course and the frost of its greedy air snaps; but inside the safe haven of the greenhouse the air is warm and pungent with earthly aromas.

The vastness of the greenhouse is filled with magical plants and fungi alike stretched out before you but you're humming as you tend to a healthy collective of starthistle, mushing its millets between your fingers to release the powder contained within them. You carefully collected the fine dust in tiny cork bottles and placed them neatly in organised lines on the gardener's desk, just as tentatively asked by Madam Sprout.

With a flick of your quill, you've checked off another task on the consciously written list and you whip around to work on the next task: watering the asphodel and pruning their tender leaves as needed. You'd been under the instructions of Madam Sprout for the last few weeks, working diligently in the greenhouse and taking care of the housekeeping for the hoards of students taking herbology.

You couldn't quite put into words why the greenery drew you in, perhaps

it was the sense of tranquility that enveloped you as you worked among the plants, or maybe it was the reward of nurturing life and watching it thrive under your care. Whatever the reason, the greenhouse had become your sanctuary, a place where you felt truly at peace and you'd often visited to escape the chaos of the castle.

As you carefully watered the asphodel and delicately pruned their leaves, you couldn't help but marvel at the beauty of nature. Each plant seemed to have its own unique personality, its own story to tell. Some were robust and hearty, while others were delicate and fragile, requiring extra care and attention.

Lost in a swirl of thoughts, you didn't notice the approach of another or the creak of the greenhouse doors until a familiar voice broke through the silence of the mist.

'Slaving away to pass herbology?' Draco coaxed, his tone teasing yet warm as he stepped into view from behind swarms of the alihotsy tree foliage.

You glanced up, offering him a smile as your hands continued to prune. Draco had taken to visiting you in the greenhouse whenever he could steal a moment away from his studies or Quidditch practice. Though he often teased you about your love for plants, you could've sworn to see genuine fondness nestled in-between the specks of blue in his eyes.

'Someone has to keep these plants in line,' you replied playfully, gesturing to the lush greenery around you.

Draco chuckled, stepping closer to inspect the asphodel with interest. 'I must admit, I would much rather attend Sprouts lessons than McGonagall's,'

'They're all the same anyway,' Draco grumbles, reaching to absentmindedly mush a leaf between the pads of his fingers.

'Are they?' You beckon, giving him a knowing stare as you pat the soil around the asphodel a little harder than before.

'Potter,' he sneers, gaze lowering. Something must've happened.

But instead of delving deeper into the matter, you decide to shift the conversation to something lighter, knowing it is best to not scratch at fresh wounds.

"Well, since you're here, how about lending me a hand with the watering?" you suggest, flashing Draco a mischievous grin, your eyes sparkling as they always do.

Draco raises an eyebrow, but a playful smirk dances across his lips. "I suppose I could manage that," he concedes, rolling up his sleeves as he joins you at the watering cans.

╺╺╺╺╺╺╺

Draco entered the Slytherin common room cursing the puffing lady in the painting, his steps quiet against the plush carpeting. Crabbe and Goyle had snuck out in the middle of the night to threaten house elves for leftovers again, despite Draco's orders. In spite of his best efforts, Snape had already caught his cronies, muttering scolding admonitions, and sending the trio back to the dorms; but not before confiscating a pile of blueberry muffins nestled into Crabbe and Goyle's arms.

The dim light of the flickering fire cast a warm glow over the room, and the henchmen were ordered upstairs, their heavy footsteps shaking the dungeons. But as Draco made his way upstairs after them, he couldn't help but notice a figure slumped over one of the tables, surrounded by a scattering of books and parchment.

Curiosity piqued, Draco approached, recognizing you, nestled amidst your study materials. Your head rested on your arms, your breathing steady and deep as sleep claimed you in the midst of your studies. Draco couldn't help but smile softly at the sight, finding a certain charm in your dedication to your studies, even if it meant falling asleep in the common room and spending less time with him.

With gentle hands, Draco carefully gathered your belongings, setting aside your books and parchment before lifting you into his arms. 'A Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi' he scoffed gently and to this you stirred slightly, murmuring soft nothings in your sleep, but didn't wake as Draco cradled you against his chest, your head nestling against his shoulder.

With practiced ease, Draco made his way through the common room towards the staircase leading to the girls dormitories, your soft purrs of sleep tickling his chest in a way that shortened his breathing and sent a flutter through his heart.

As he reached your dormitory door, Draco hesitated for a moment, admiring the peaceful expression on your sleeping face. Gently, he pushed open the door and stepped inside, carefully laying you down on your emerald bed and tucking the blankets around you.

For a moment, Draco lingered, watching you sleep with a soft smile before quietly slipping out of the room, leaving you to rest peacefully in the warmth of your bed.

Unbeknownst to him, Pansy lay awake in her own bed, observing the scene with narrowed eyes, her mind already scheming with endless possibilities.

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steddieas-shegoes · 1 year

Note

hi! i love your works so much and i have a request ^^ i wanted to ask if you could do a jealous and/or possessive eddie? maybe where steve and eddie are super close to finally admitting they like each other and just need one more push or something, or they're just newly dating. they're both at a gay bar, and steve's been receiving lots of stares and heated gazes from some of the ppl there? maybe a person was brave enough to try but eddie's right beside him watching the entire interaction.

i've come across a fair share amount of jealous/possessive steve in steddie stories and i wanted to see it being eddie for a change. tysm in advance and i can't wait to read the other requests with your amazing writing <3

I LOVE possessive Eddie!!! I really only see it in Kas!Eddie or vampire Eddie situations and I wish it was written more for just regular old human Eddie who just has entirely too much love for Steve to contain his emotions when someone else tries to make a move. I hope you like this little thing (2500 words!) I came up with and the other requests I've been putting out so far! - Mickala ❤️

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

Robin convinced them she needed support.

Support Steve’s ass.

She was doing just fine from the moment they stepped in the door of this place.

So fine, in fact, she’d abandoned him and Eddie before they even got their first round of drinks brought to them.

Steve sat at the table with Eddie, awkwardly watching as people kept dancing and drinking and making out in dark corners of the bar.

He tried not to look too much, though. He didn’t want anyone to think he wasn’t comfortable here.

Quite the opposite, actually.

He’d been here a couple of times with just Robin: once before he figured out he was into men, once before he figured out he was into Eddie, and once more before this where he tried very hard to be into Eddie and failed.

But Eddie had insisted on coming when he overheard them talking about it, saying he hadn’t been here since high school and could use a night in a place where he could just be himself.

As if he wasn’t always obnoxiously (and beautifully) himself.

Robin had given Eddie a Look, but nodded in agreement, saying it would be awesome to have both her favorite guys there.

Which rubbed Steve a little wrong because he was her only favorite guy.

But he got over it because now Eddie was his only company, probably for the entire night going off of the way the girl with Robin was staring at her.

Ogling her.

Steve sighed. Eddie sighed.

They looked at each other and laughed.

“She do this to you every time?”

“No, usually we stick together. Must feel brave since you’re here with me.”

“Awww, she trusts me.”

Steve rolled his eyes, but there was probably more truth to that than he cared to admit.

Robin was often afraid to leave him alone, but she never hesitated if Eddie was with him.

He felt people staring at him, but he ignored it. He wasn’t here to find anyone and it would be silly to even try knowing that Eddie was right there.

But he’d be lying if he said it didn’t feel good to have people checking him out. He used to thrive on it in high school, feeling seen by anyone was better than being seen by no one.

Then, he hated it. He wanted to be invisible and he wanted everyone to focus on anyone and anything else in the room. He got his wish most of the time.

Until Eddie.

Eddie always included him in everything, pointing out when he was being quiet or moody, asking him questions to involve him in conversations, making sure he understood what Dustin was saying which was a challenge often.

He would touch his arm when he passed by him on the way to grab a drink from the kitchen or let their thighs touch on the couch on movie nights.

He let him come over after work on the nights he was too riled up, needing to let out some of his energy with a walk, but being too scared to do it alone.

So Eddie saw him, and made others see him, and he didn’t always love it, but he accepted it.

Tonight felt different, though.

All these eyes on him meant that people found him attractive, maybe wanted to dance with him or bring him home. If Eddie weren’t here, he’d maybe give it a shot with someone, try to find a way out of this hole he dug himself into with the first guy he’d admitted to himself he had feelings for.

But he also felt Eddie’s eyes on him, practically burning a hole through the side of his face every time he looked out at the crowd.

He felt heat crawling up his neck, to his cheeks.

Having all of Eddie’s attention was a lot for anyone, but especially Steve, who frequently thought about what it would be like to have Eddie’s attention on him in bed, or in the shower, or on the couch, or the pool, or-

“Did you want another drink?”

Steve looked down at the drink in his hand. He’d barely finished half of it, so he didn’t really know why Eddie was asking unless he just needed an excuse to get up.

“Um. No thanks. Probably should just have one anyway.”

“Sure.”

Eddie got up with his empty glass and started walking towards the bar.

Almost as soon as Eddie was gone, a taller man in a suit was taking his place at the table.

“Well, hi there, honey. Never seen you here before. First time?”

The guy was older, mid-thirties at least, and probably not the type of guy Steve would want to experiment with. But he was flirting, and he was kind of cute.

Steve could let himself enjoy a little casual flirting, right? It wouldn’t have to lead to anything.

“No, but I don’t come often.”

Steve rested his arms on the table, head in his hand. He grinned at the man, that Harrington charm practically beaming off of him.

“You could come tonight if you wanted to join me in the back.”

That was smooth. Sleazy, but smooth.

Steve didn’t drop his grin, but he shook his head.

“I don’t think I’m interested in just hooking up in the bathroom. Maybe you could buy me a drink?”

He had no intention of drinking another drink, but he figured this guy would lose interest if he showed he was more needy.

He was wrong.

The guy practically tripped over his feet to stand up from the booth.

“What would you like?”

“Oh. Uh.”

“He’s good, man. How about you go buy a drink for someone interested?”

Eddie came out of nowhere. Seriously, Steve had just seen him at the bar a few seconds before he spoke.

“Is this your boyfriend or something?”

Steve cleared his throat awkwardly as Eddie stood taller, more intimidating.

“Does it matter? I’m asking you nicely to go.”

“I don’t think it’s up to you. I asked him.”

Eddie looked like he wanted to punch the guy, and Steve could admit to himself silently that he wanted to see it.

But he didn’t quite understand why Eddie was reacting like this; He’d assumed Eddie would want to try to hook up with someone while he was here and wouldn’t want to spend all his time with Steve.

“Steve? Do you wanna get a drink with this guy?”

No, he didn’t. He hadn’t even before Eddie came back. But a part of him had to wonder if maybe Eddie’s reaction was just to protect Steve from an older guy.

“I actually have to drive us back home so I probably shouldn’t have another drink. Thanks though.”

The guy mumbled something before turning and leaving, shaking his head as he walked to the bar.

Eddie slid into the booth next to him instead of across from him, letting most of their sides touch.

Steve couldn’t help the way his body naturally curled into Eddie’s, the comfort and safety of his body drawing Steve in without effort.

It should have ended there. Steve should have just let himself stay rested against Eddie’s side until Robin was done.

He did for a minute, but then his brain decided it needed explanations.

“What was wrong with that guy buying me a drink?”

Eddie was quiet for a moment, his body tense against Steve’s.

“I just don’t think he was the right kind of person to be buying you a drink. You deserve better than that.”

Steve’s brows furrowed.

Eddie didn’t know the guy, he could’ve been really nice. Other than the propositioning as his first line, he seemed like he was willing to do whatever Steve wanted to get more time with him.

“Who is the right kind of person then?”

“Someone younger. Maybe someone who doesn’t wear a damn suit to a gay bar. This is a casual place, there’s no need to flaunt your super important job. Plus, he could see your drink was still half full, he should’ve known you didn’t want one.”

“You offered me a drink before you got up.”

“That’s different.”

“How?”

“Because I’m not trying to get you drunk to sleep with me.”

Yeah, and wasn’t that a shame?

Steve dropped it. It wasn’t worth arguing with Eddie and he didn’t want to ruin any of the fun they could have.

“Should we dance?”

Eddie pulled away and looked at him like he’d grown a second head.

“You want to dance with me?”

“Why not? We’ve been abandoned by Robin and the music isn’t bad.”

The music wasn’t bad to Steve. Eddie, however, was suffering through it as it was, and that was without having to dance to it.

“Pleeeeease?” Steve pouted at Eddie, eyes wide.

“You can’t make that face. It’s not fair.”

Steve kept making the face because being fair wasn’t something he cared about.

Eddie stood up, holding his hand out towards Steve to help him stand from the table.

Steve took it, ignoring the way he wanted to collapse against Eddie the second he stood up.

They made it to the dance floor, where a surprising amount of people were dancing in pairs and small groups, enjoying the fact that they could safely here.

Just when Steve turned to Eddie, the music changed to Head Over Heels by Tears For Fears.

Steve tried not to take it as a sign.

Eddie suddenly looked even more nervous, like he’d planned on maybe getting away with just jumping around to the music and now he couldn’t.

Just when Steve was going to give him an out, another guy, this one younger, but not as nice looking, wrapped his arm around Steve’s shoulder.

“How ‘bout we dance, sugar?”

The guy was drunk.

Steve wasn’t interested in ruining his favorite song by dancing with this drunk guy.

“He’s busy,” Eddie said firmly.

The guy backed up a bit, but still had his hand against Steve’s arm, resting there with enough of a grip to keep him upright.

“Sorry, you got somethin’ against me dancin’ with him?”

“Yeah, that’s why I just said he’s busy.”

Eddie pushed the guy’s hand off of Steve’s arm and put his own around Steve’s waist, pulling him against his side with no room for air or argument.

Steve tried to catch his breath, his heart skipping a beat and his lungs exhaling instead of inhaling.

“Maybe you should let him say if he’s busy or not.”

Steve was missing his favorite song to argue with a guy he wasn’t interested in when he could be dancing with Eddie.

Unacceptable.

“I’m dancing with him. Find someone else.”

The guy rolled his eyes and walked away.

Eddie turned and adjusted his arms so they rested on Steve’s hips.

Steve didn’t know what to do.

“Have you never slow danced before, King Steve?”

“Uh. Just once.”

“Oh? Let me help you then.”

Eddie took his hands in his own and gently placed them around his neck, pulling himself closer to Steve when his hands found his hips again.

“This okay?”

“Yeah.”

Steve wasn’t sure how this was happening, how this was real.

He just knew he didn’t want it to end.

He rested his head against Eddie’s shoulder, letting himself enjoy what would probably be his only chance at dancing with Eddie for the rest of his life.

“Why do you keep sending people away?”

Why was Steve determined to ruin tonight with his stupid fucking questions?

“What do you mean?”

“It just seems like you don’t wanna share.”

Eddie didn’t respond.

Steve looked up at him, but his face was hard to read in the darkness of the bar.

“Eds?”

“I don’t.” Eddie cleared his throat. “I don’t wanna share you. I like having you all to myself. Sorry if I’ve ruined your night.”

He started to pull away and Steve panicked. He couldn’t say that and then leave.

“What do you mean? You haven’t ruined anything. I wanted to spend it with you, anyways.”

Eddie was searching his eyes, looking for any sign of a lie.

“Steve, I-” The song changed, but it was another slow song. They kept slowly rocking and staring at each other. “I have to tell you something. You’re probably gonna hate me and wanna leave me here in Indy.”

Steve gulped. Could he possibly have feelings for Steve?

“I uh. I sent them away because I was jealous.”

“What? Why?”

“Because I love you so fucking much I don’t know what to do with it all the time! Sometimes I hide in the bathroom during movie nights so I can scream into the towels. Do you know how ridiculous that is? I’ve even been caught by Max before and she promised not to say anything if I gave her $20.”

“Oh.”

Oh? What the hell Steve, say something else.

“So, I get it if you hate me. I mean, I don’t know how this happened and I have no right to send potential dates away because I want to keep you to myself.”

Steve leaned up and placed a kiss on Eddie’s cheek.

“I’m glad you got jealous.”

Eddie was blushing now.

“What?”

“If you hadn’t been jealous, you probably wouldn’t have told me all this, would you?”

“No, I guess not.”

“You know what helps with jealousy?”

Eddie looked down at him, more confused than ever.

Steve didn’t wait for him to respond.

“Making out in the bathroom of a gay bar.”

Eddie’s eyes practically bugged out of his head as he registered what Steve was saying.

“You wanna do that? With me?”

“Well, I certainly don’t wanna do it with anyone else. And you won’t let me do it with anyone else. So maybe we should do it together.”

Eddie grabbed his wrist and wordlessly led them to the bathroom in the back of the bar.

It wasn’t empty, but the single stall was available and Eddie made it pretty clear what their intentions were when he dragged Steve right into it, closing and locking the door only a second before his hot lips were on Steve’s.

It was better than what Steve could have possibly imagined, but still not enough.

Now that he knew Eddie wanted him, he wanted everything Eddie could give him.

And Eddie seemed to want to give it all to him.

His lips were almost too much, but Steve couldn’t get enough.

They weren’t even in a bathroom anymore, floating high above the clouds with happiness and contentment.

Until a knock on the stall door nearly made Steve give himself another concussion.

“Dingus One and Dingus Two! Super happy for you both, but it’s time to go.”

“Shit.”

“What time is it?”

“It’s nearly one in the morning and we agreed to leave by midnight. I got distracted by boobies.”

“Don’t we all,” Steve said, as Eddie let out a loud laugh.

They opened the stall door and Robin sighed.

“Fix your hair. I’ll be at the car.”

Steve looked in the mirror as she left the bathroom, smirking at Eddie’s reflection behind him in a similar state of disarray.

“Okay?”

“So okay.”

“You owe me a dance.”

“What? Why? We danced!”

“But it got interrupted. And I wanna dance with you.”

Eddie sighed, but smiled fondly at Steve.

“I’ll dance with you whenever you want, sweetheart.”

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #robin buckley #love confessions #possessive eddie munson #jealous eddie munson #platonic stobin #anon request #requests

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fuxuannie · 1 year

Text

* pairing : dan heng x gender neutral reader

* prompt : dan heng is so painfully awkward, to a point march 7th herself had enough.

* authors note : this is such an old draft that it still had my idv divider.. IM SO SLEEPYYYY T_T

DAN HENG grumbles as he's sitting in The Archives on his.. rather sad excuse for a bed. He's staring at his phone, typing something out before letting out an unsatisfied sigh and deleting it in the same minute it was written.

March 7th walks in without knocking, again. Doing her signature walk towards Dan Heng and sitting on the floor infront of his blankets and pillows that were laid down on the floor. "What's up?" She asked, staring at him as he looks at his phone and back up at March 7th. "Uh.. how do you.. talk to someone?" His question sounded stupid but it was genuine, he wasn't entirely sure how to strike a conversation with you. He asked for your number, you happily gave it to him, but now he wasn't sure of his next move.

"..Is that a serious question?" March 7th laughed with a baffled expression, but Dan Heng's forced cough as a response was not helping his situation. "Okay. It's a serious question.. Oh my stars, I can't believe you're asking me how to hold a conversation.." She wiped away a non-existant tear from her eyes, before clearing her throat and acting all serious-like.

"So give me your phone."

"What??"

"Do you want help or not??"

"..Okay."

Dan Heng hands her his cellphone, and she stares at the screen before letting out an almost comical gasp. "YOU'RE TEXTING-" And before she could even finish, a hand was quick to cover her lips and a hushed 'Shhh.' followed right after. "You don't need to announce it to the whole damn station, March!" He hissed, slowly uncovering her mouth as she lets out a giggle. "Sorry. A little excited is all."

She stares at the little phone for a while, raising it up in the air and staring at it from various angles. As if a painter trying different angles to view their creations. "What are you doing..?" Dan Heng asked with a sigh, only gaining an index finger against his lips. "Have you tried saying 'Hello'? Maybe add in a 'This is Dan Heng, I wanted to ask how you were.' And such." March 7th suggested, handing the phone over to him as he stared at it in his hands. It was that simple, why was he overthinking so much?

After an unnecessarily long conversation about what to text, Dan Heng just groans into his pillow and March 7th sighs in defeat. He hears her type out a message, and doesn't completely mind, until he hears the 'Ding!' of a message being sent.

He slowly lifts his head up from the soft and comfortable pillow, eyes wide as he stares at March 7th. "What. did. you. send."

His surprisingly serious tone made March 7th burst into laughter. He immediately tries to reach back for his phone, but she's pulling away to try and keep it away. "I'm doing you a favor!!" She said inbetween laughs, but he eventually gets a hold of his dear device, but she's is far too busy clutching her stomach with how much shes been laughing.

His face shifts from shock to despair, his eyes go from his phone and back to March 7th, then his phone and March 7th again. This repeats a few times before he sighs in embarrassment. He leaves his phone ontop of the table near his bed and pinches the bridge of his nose, "Atleast they haven't seen it yet." He says, trying to remain positive. He hears March 7th stand, and she leans a little to stare at his phone. "Uh oh. They should really add a feature where you cam delete messages."

Maybe this is a sign to jump out the nearest window without a helmet.

It doesn't help that theres a knock on his door, you peek your head in and chuckle awkwardly. "I figured that this message had something to do with March, especially with the commotion you two were causing literally a few rooms away from my own."

The pink haired girl giggled, rubbing the back of her neck as she didn't bother to deny the accusation. You give her a small 'Can I have some alone time?' look, and she understands immediately, hopping off the small platform and walking past you with a wink. Somehow despite her playful nature March 7th truly had good intentions at heart, she saw Dan Heng as a brother, and she knew more than anyone you were the best candidate for his heart.

You sit next to him, as he buries his face in his knees, mumbling and grumbling random incoherent words. "Dan Heng?" You say softly while placing a hand on his shoulder, he lifting his head up but refused to meet your gaze. You chuckle slightly, ruffling his hair. "It's not as embarassing as you think, I promise."

He sighs, turning to look at you. "..It's not that it's embarassing.. I just, I really wanna talk to you but.. I'm not really good with the whole.. socializing thing." Dan Heng says with slight hesitation as he spoke, but you gently grab one of his hands, using both of your own to hold onto it. "It's okay, just take your time and talk to me when you're ready. But I mean, I'm here, aren't I? We can start there."

Finally, a smile seems to find it's way upon his lips. "Yeah.. You're right.

And right outside his door, March 7th and Himiko both do a silent high five as they finally got Dan Heng to do something about that damned crush of his.

#✹ ִֶָ ꐑꐑ entos paw prints #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #dan heng x reader #dan heng hsr x reader

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khoipyan · 1 year

Text

ResidentEEL Business

After Yuu gives up your dorm as collateral, Floyd invites you to stay in his room instead. Given the housing circumstances, how could you possibly refuse?

gn!reader (you/your), reader is NOT yuu (+ yuu is a seperate character, is referred to using they/them), reader lives in ramshackle, book 3 spoilers ig??? still gonna put a warning just incase... 1.3k+ words

characters; floyd leech

notes; haii hello i decided to write another fic, hehe ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ i have floyd favouritism....

“You’re WHAT?”

Jade smiled, “If you want it in a more simplistic way for you to understand,”

“We’re taking your house for three days — and maybe even more — if you guys don’t complete that contract in time, Lil’ Fishy!” Floyd grinned.

This was quite the dilemma. Yuu smiled awkwardly at you, while Grim frantically rushed to fetch his things (would tuna really count if that’s all he might be saving?).

All if this had came to be a surprise. To think that you were just taking a nap, when suddenly you opened the door to two big eels, one cat and a Yuu. Since when did they get to make all the big decisions, exactly?

“Better get packin’, Shrimpy. You too, Fishy!” Floyd said, “Otherwise, we get to keep whatever you have lying around once the contract is over.”

As if there was anything of interest for him to keep. Still, rather than deciding to argue, you decided it was best to gather your things. However, this wasn’t even the main problem at hand—

For the next 3 days (and hopefully not any longer), where would you even stay?

“Look, I’m really sorry,” Yuu sighed, helping you pack up a box. It was basically all you really needed, seeing it was just your clothing, school supplies, and a few personal trinkets. I mean, it’s not like you could pack up your entire bed into a cardboard box.

You shrugged, “It’s fine, but couldn't you have at least called me first?”

“Next time, I promise.” they nodded.

As Yuu finished sealing up the cardboard box with some frail tape, they surrendered it over to you. Not surprisingly, it wasn’t so heavy. They took one last look at you before they left your room, leaving you alone with your thoughts and the semi-vacant room, just for a bit.

You flicked off your room lights and took one good look at your room. It looked only a little less bare than before, but it still looked like your room, nonetheless. You’d miss sleeping on the slightly terrible mattress of your bed, or the floorboards that creaked in the middle of the night whenever you got up to get a glass of water.

If you could, you would reminisce all night about the tales of your dorm room, but that wasn’t possible. In fact—

You felt two pairs of hands slam down on your shoulders, and a breath on your ear as a loud voice shouted:

“Boo!”

On instinct, you dropped the box and screamed, stumbling away as your body tensed up. It took a few deep breaths and even fewer moments to realize that there was no threat: it was only Floyd.

Floyd laughed, “Gotcha! C’mon, we don’t have all night, Lil’ Fish. You gotta get out sooner or later. Shrimpy and Baby Seal already left ya, y’know.”

Groaning, you picked up your box of items and clutched it tightly to your body, slamming the door to your room behind you. You internally grimaced as you heard the door reopen gently, footsteps trailing behind as Floyd followed you.

“That wasn’t very nice, Fishy. What’s wrong?” Floyd walked beside you, escorting you out of your own home with a casual grin on his face.

‘Everything’s wrong,’ you wanted to say, but you didn’t. Where would you even go? That question struck your mind again as the two of you dragged on your mini—stroll around Ramshackle Dorm. “It’s nothing.”

“You don’t have anywhere to stay, do ya?” Floyd caught you by surprise.

You shook your head, “How did you know?”

“I mean,” he continued, “It’s written all over your face. Besides, Shrimpy has the same problem too!”

You didn’t reply to him afterward, nor did you plan on going to; it was too tiring to carry on a conversation at the moment. The hallways only seemed to get longer as both of you walked beside each other, floorboards creaking with each stride you took. Only, Floyd’s steps made heavier creaks than yours did.

Floyd decided he had enough of this silence, interrupting the awkwardness between you two: “Say, you can stay with me if you want, Lil’ Fishy.”

“You know I don’t have that kind of money, Floyd.”

“No, no! Fishy’s got it all wrong,” he smiled, “I want you to stay in my room, and you play with me for a bit in exchange.”

That sounds a bit… fishy, if you will. What choice did you really have, though? It was either search for a nice empty room (which they might not even have) in another dorm for 3 days, or stay with a menacingly tall eel—mer.

Sometimes it would help if your options were more open, huh?

“Do I really have a choice?” You asked, looking at Floyd. Did he always have this nice pair of mismatched—coloured eyes?

He shrugged, “I dunno, do ya? It’s not like I’m forcin’ you, right? So I’d say yeah!”

As you both reached the entrance (or, exit) to Ramshackle Dorm, you couldn’t help but to make up your mind so suddenly:

“Fine. Hopefully only for 3 nights, though.”

Floyd beamed as he held the front door open for you, “We’re gonna have so much fun together.”

As soon as both of you had arrived in Floyd’s bedroom, he seemed to be much more… burnt out? The moodiness from him was so sudden as he flopped on his bed, face digging into his pillow. He must be tired.

It seemed both the twins shared a single room, which was slightly awkward given your circumstances. By the looks of it, Jade wasn’t currently there, and thank goodness for that.

“What’re you waitin’ for? Turn the lights off and go to sleep, keep the lamp on if ya want.” Floyd grumbled, lifting his face from his pillow to look at you so sullenly. What happened to having ‘so much fun’?

You put your box of things down in a corner of Floyd’s side of the room neatly, and look around the floor for a nice place to… get comfy. Maybe you should have packed your pillows and blanket.

However, Floyd seemed to take notice and shot you a look of confusion, “You gonna sleep on the floor, Fishy? Just come sleep on the bed with me, I don’t mind.”

“No way,” you shook your head.

“Why not?”

“Well, isn’t it awkward to share a bed?”

Floyd grinned, “I already said I don’t mind. What, scared I’m gonna bite ya in my sleep?” He narrowed his eyes, “or are you gonna sleep with Jade or somethin’?”

You frowned, “I’m not sleeping on anybody’s bed!”

Rolling his eyes at you, he shuffled around the bed. “Fine, but I gotta show you something…”

Curiously, you flicked off the room lights and walked a bit closer to him, “What is it?”

“Closer,” he smiled.

Everytime, each step you took closer to his bed, he kept telling you to come even closer. You were practically standing over him by now (which is kind of funny, considering how tall he is), crossing your arms. What could he possibly want?

“Bend down,” Floyd smiled.

As you did, it was almost as if your life flashed before your eyes. Floyd had taken the opportunity to grab you and pull you into his bed. Even while you struggled, you were definitely no match for how much he squeezed you.

“You’re kinda silly, Lil’ Fishy! I didn’t think you’d fall for that so easily,” he laughed.

You huffed, “You’re kind of squishing me.”

Floyd only shrugged as he hugged you even tighter. His grasp wasn’t bone-crushing or suffocating; it was quite warm. Somewhat gentle, surprisingly.

It was quiet, silent, but peaceful. All your thoughts wandered as you were being used like a human body pillow; to Yuu, to Grim, to the contract— it was all so odd.

Before you spent the whole night reflecting even more, you decided to get comfortable and get some rest instead.

Closing your eyes, you took one deep breath in, and one deep breath out.

“Good night, Floyd.”

“Night, Lil’ Fishy.”

( due to be edited at anytime )

#scrib.bles🫧#twisted wonderland #twst #floyd leech #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #floyd leech x reader #floyd x reader #octavinelle #floyd #twst floyd leech #twisted wonderland floyd leech #twst floyd #book 3 spoilers

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lamemaster · 8 months

Text

Ways to Coax Your Beloved

Pairing: Glorfindel x Reader

Genre: Romance, fluff (i swear) , sprinkle of angst

Summary: What began as a minor disagreement now feels like an insurmountable chasm between you two. Never before had an argument lasted so long.

AN: written directly on Tumblr interface this is my mania. Enjoy!

"I've brought us some snacks," you carefully balance the tray on the balcony railing. "Cakes, tea, cookies, crackers, cream rolls – I've got everything." He remains facing away from you, his back tense and unyielding to your words.

"Glorfindel," you take a hesitant step closer, your hand hovering in the air. But before you can say more, he disappears once again. This has been the pattern for a week, the longest and most trying week of your life.

What began as a minor disagreement now feels like an insurmountable chasm between you two. Never before had an argument lasted so long. Your beloved simply did not care to hold on to grudges for long.

Sighing, you lifted the tray, contemplating an excuse that wouldn't draw the pitying gazes of the kitchen staff.

"How do you coax a sulking elf?" Erestor looks up from his book. You had never really conversed much with him before this. There was never a reason to. "Specifically a thousands of years old being whose been born twice and is quite a legend."

Much to your surprise, Erestor does not find your humor hilarious. Leave for slight amusement in his eyes there is little appreciation for your jest.

"I would rather you not discuss this with me," the stern looking elf replies as he simply turns back to his tomes. Yikes! Awkwardly swinging your arms you try to plan for a slightly less awkward exit. "Ah yes," picking up the closest book you plan for your emergency exit from the unforgiving company, "I would like to get this book."

With another scathing look directed your way, Erestor meticulously wrapped your borrowed book in a fancy-looking cloth. "Keep it away from any water, heat, or dirt. Any damage is unacceptable," he instructed curtly.

You solemnly nodded, understanding the gravity of his instructions. "Sounds good," you responded with a casual tone, but Erestor's raised eyebrow reminded you that casualness wasn't his forte.

As you turned to leave, you almost collided with the bookshelf, which seemed to have crept up on you. "Oof," you muttered, swaying your way out of the room.

Then, Erestor's voice halted your steps. "Try Asfaloth," he suggested.

With a wide grin, you turned around and threw a jolly salute to Erestor, who had already returned to his books as if nothing had changed.

Armed with Erestor's invaluable intel, you ventured to the stables. Before arriving there, you made sure to thoroughly search your quarters, Glorfindel's rooms, and other frequently visited areas of the dwelling. Finally, you descended to the stables, where your beloved's horse awaited.

"Asfaloth, my boy, how I've missed you!" Your heartfelt enthusiasm was met with an equally excited neigh from the elegant white stallion. Despite towering over you, Asfaloth possessed a temperament that invited nurturing from anyone.

Performing a playful dance with light stomps to celebrate your arrival was entirely unnecessary but undeniably enjoyable. Or perhaps it was the not-so-well-concealed carrots you held in your hands that fueled your jubilant display. "Have you seen him?" you posed a question to the horse, though you knew full well that, despite elven claims, horses did not possess the gift of speech.

Approaching the gentle giant that was Asfaloth, you deftly ensured that he didn't gobble the carrots too quickly. "Patience," you murmured, adjusting the treats to prevent any mishaps. Abandoning the idea of petting the eager horse, you directed all your focus toward preventing a choking incident. You were acutely aware that Glorfindel would never forgive you if Asfaloth were to asphyxiate on your offerings.

"Where is he, Asfaloth?" Your fingers continued to caress the munching horse as you briefly entertained the idea that, just maybe, the elves were right, and Asfaloth understood you.

No fancy braiding or delicate floral decorations adorned his mane this time. "Why is he avoiding you? What have you done?" you pondered aloud, earning a pitiful whine from your equine companion. "I know, incredibly rude, I must say," you commented, deciding against attempting to braid Asfaloth's mane for the sake of both the world's sanity and your own. Instead, you settled on a comfortable pile of hay, hoping you weren't sitting on Asfaloth's dinner from the previous night.

"I brought him flowers, snacks, I even endured the drudgery of laundry, and I despise laundry. I got him books, a random flute, baked him a cake, and even learned a new card trick. But not a single reaction!" You confided in Asfaloth, desperately hoping for some form of understanding and equally enthusiastic compassion. To your relief, Asfaloth seemed to offer a sympathetic snort at just the right moment.

"You wouldn't believe it, but I even dared to venture into Erestor's little cave for intel. I'm at my wit's end, my friend," you sighed, realizing that the hay pile was indeed quite comfortable.

"I mean, I could try going to the nearest town for something, but I doubt I'd find anything better than these snobbish elves. Besides, those townsfolk charge outrageous prices," you continued, and Asfaloth leaned in, sniffing your satchel in hopes of more treats. Allowing the horse to continue his investigation, you didn't stop him. "I might dip into some of those savings. Perhaps Glorfindel would appreciate some rustic tools, eh?" Tired of Asfaloth's curiosity, you playfully tossed your empty satchel into the corner, which, for some inexplicable reason, Asfaloth chased like an adorable hound.

Tucked away in Asfaloth's cozy abode, you couldn't recall when your consciousness had faded into that blissful six-hour nap – the kind you cherished above all others. In the realm of bizarre dreams, you found yourself pinned to a pile of hay, unable to relinquish the unconventional comfort. Maybe Erestor had been onto something when he recommended Asfaloth.

However, your tranquil slumber was abruptly shattered as a metaphorical tsunami wreaked havoc on your sleeping form. Gasping, you struggled to make sense of the blurry world that seemed to whirl too rapidly for your groggy vision to follow.

"Y/n, oh Eru, you're awake!" A voice echoed through your sleep-addled and hazy thoughts.

Grasping the strong arms that held you close, you attempted to piece together the disaster that had overtaken you. "Wha-" your words faltered as you laid eyes on the tearful and sniffling elf standing before you. It was your first time witnessing such an emotional display, and you couldn't quite believe that elves were capable of producing snot.

Shaking off your mental fog, you slowly realized the peculiar predicament you were in. You were seated on a pile of hay, within the stable, beneath Asfaloth's unflinching gaze, and enfolded tightly in the embrace of the Balrog-slayer himself.

"I-I thought you left. You left like you said," Glorfindel stammered, your hands gently cupped your hiccupping beloved's face as his words tumbled out faster than you could process. "I couldn't find you… I had to… I rushed here, and then, you were… your eyes closed like that." Using your sleeves, you wiped away the relentless tears (and yes, even the snot) that streamed down his face as you sought a way to soothe Glorfindel's overwhelming emotions.

You couldn't help but internally curse yourself for your rambling that had led to this emotional upheaval. Days ago, beneath the relentless blanket of snow and impenetrable clouds, your thoughts had wandered without restraint.

"It happens, Glorfindel," you offered in an attempt to console him, "weariness of the world is unavoidable, even more so for Men. A slight change in weather can trigger it. After all, we are bound to some place beyond this." Your words seemed to offer little solace, evident from your beloved's reddening face.

"It is only natural to ponder death or the end. We Men are born with this burden, so it's not unnatural for such thoughts to sneak in. We call it 'existentialism.' But those ramblings mean nothing right now. I would not leave you, vanish into thin air, or transform into an insect just because the snow wouldn't relent." Your words carried a hint of playfulness, but there was undeniable truth in them. You would depart one day, for a fate separate from his. Before that day came, you both would endure the passage of time, a force that dared not mar the Balrog-slayer.

You harbored thoughts about evading him before he witnessed such a sight, but you knew you had some time left. A few years before you would spend eons waiting for another reunion.

But you chose not to speak of those deeper truths.

"But," you interjected, and Glorfindel perked up at the unexpected word. "I would tell everyone about this if you don't stop being an absolute grump." Just like that, the tension surrounding you both dissipated. "Imagine, 'Balrog Slayer, The Balrog Slayer,' in the stables – hmph!" Your words were cut off as Glorfindel playfully covered your face with his hand.

Even with reddened eyes and a rosy nose, your beloved looked every bit his old self. All traces of your angst and his sorrow dissipated into the slightly stinky breath of Asfaloth.

#the silmarillion #tolkien elves #silmarillion x reader #romance #fluff #glorfindel x reader #glorfindel imagine #glorfindel #human reader #asfaloth #Asfaloth is a cutie

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bokettochild · 4 months

Text

Day 8 - "Why Won't It Stop?"

Took me forever, but this one is one that I am VERY pleased with. Part two will follow in later days

Wordcount: 4,847

Rating: Teen

Summary: An effect of abusing a god's power is that the soul of the deity is now bound to Time's own, and sometimes it has more power than he'd wish. usually, he can tame it, but learning the fate of the worlds he's left behind have made him slip, and the deity is intent on purging their legacy.

Written by request of @sweetlemonad

“It’s not like heroes can die anyways.”

The uncomfortable silence that follows those words is not something Time is particularly keen on learning the source of. The boys have all been in a rather good mood for most of the day, and currently Wind and Legend are trying to see who can outlast the other by remaining balanced on the rail fence that abuts the pathway on their right. He thinks Wind dared Legend or maybe the vet just got bored and Wind decided to follow. Either way, the elder is currently strolling along with his arms behind his head while Wind walks, precariously balanced and failing a bit here and there..

Balancing at sea and balancing on land are apparently exceedingly different.

He’s not particularly sure who’d started the conversation, but he thinks it was Warriors. The man has been a bit more stressed than he’d like these last few days, and the worry that something bad will happen to them definitely sounds like something the captain would express in order to keep the rest on their guard. The sudden way Legend falters, perfect balance suddenly failing and sending him flailing, is more telling than the silence that follows Wind’s words, and he finds it only right to offer a steadying hand to the younger man to stop him eating dirt.

Sky’s eyes settling on the sailor, confused, are just as telling.

“Right?” Wind looks between the vet, whose caught his balance and looks at the youngest with pricked back ears, gnawing his lip, and the chosen one who won’t meet their eyes. “Wait,” the kid glances back and forth again, as though to be sure, “they haven’t, right?”

The vet’s hand slips out of his own, rubbing the back of his head awkwardly. “Wind, did you receive an education?”

“What’s that have to do with anything?” Hyrule asks, sounding a little miffed. They all know the boy’s lack of formal teaching is a bit of a sore spot considering the apparent circumstances of everyone else. Had he the right, Time would maybe let slip that the captain was entirely illiterate before his enlistment, but he’s not sure that exposing that would actually help anyone.

Their chosen hero and vet share a glance at the question though, some silent conversation slipping between them for a moment before Sky gives an encouraging look that seems to indicate Legend ought to be the one to handle this. It makes sense, he supposes, considering Legend is the one with purportedly the best education out of them, or at least the most up to date between himself and Sky.

“Alright,” the pink haired hero slips down to a seated position on the rail fence, and the rest of them take the cue to stop, themselves sitting or leaning against the railing as well, save the captain, who stands at something almost like parade rest as he listens. “So, I suppose it’s lost to time for most of you, but there was a hero- a couple actually, who fell to the enemy.”

“How?” Hyrule demands. “I thought our whole existence was based off some heavenly power calling us so evil was always stopped?”

Murmurs of agreement sound from the rest, but the vet shakes his head, although he’s also very clearly avoiding eye contact. “I wish it was that straight forwards. No, actually, there are two heroes, to my knowledge and as of my era, that are quite famous for dying in their efforts against evil.” Dark eyes lift to Sky. “One was the first hero, the one who fought beside Hylia herself.”

“Sky’s going to die?” Four breathes, utterly horrified.

The boys almost all turn to their skyloftian but are quickly assured by a sharp ‘no!’ from Legend and a soft “not me, guys” from the hero himself. “It was my predecessor,” Sky says once they’ve all stopped looking so horrified, “the one who crafted the Master Sword and sealed Demise away, ages before my time.”

“So you knew.” He finds himself asking, and his question is answered with a slow nod.

“I did.” He knew about fallen heroes. He knew that the only other hero to exist before him had died. Suddenly Sky seems all the more brave to the scar-faced leader; he couldn’t imagine going into his adventure knowing all the others who undertook it had died.

“The first hero,” Legend begins again, hesitantly, “is said to have sealed Demise away, but succumbed from his injuries shortly thereafter, leaving the heavens to call another hero after his passing: Sky.”

There are a few hums, and Twilight looks like he’s half a second from taking notes. No doubt, the rancher hasn't heard this bit of Hylian history before, and while his pup is certainly less interested in the history of the kingdom than he is in the workings of things and understanding the dark magics, the dear lad is, all the same, what Mido would call “a nerd”. He finds himself smiling at the thought, watching as his boy absorbs every bit of the knowledge the vet is sharing, and what little Sky uses to back him up.

“What about the second one?” Wild asks, staring at Legend oddly.

Abruptly, he finds himself realizing that the cub himself has also died at the hands of the enemy, and though revived through some magic he couldn’t explain, the fact that it happened at all means that he too belongs on Legend’s list. Would that mean that the vet follows after the champion in the course of things then? Good gracious, would that make Legend the same to Wild as Wild is to Twilight? As Twilight is to him?

The vet, unknowing of their leader’s thoughts, drops his gaze a bit, fiddling with the bracelet on his hand but eyes clearly on the mark of the triforce he still bears on his left hand, just as most of them do. “He was my predecessor.”

Deku Tree bless, is he right?

“A hero called from the forest and trained to the blade since childhood, only to fall when forced to face Ganon.” The vet’s face twists up in something between sorrow and frustration. “He was prepared the best anyone could try, but for nothing. Ganon ruled Hyrule for almost a decade before the rebellion that sent the fallen hero managed to amass enough power to strike again and seal him into the sacred realm.” There’s a pause where Legend takes a heavy breath that’s neither sigh nor resignation, but maybe just the slightest bit sorrow for their fallen brother, and the rest keep quiet for it too, as though in mourning for a hero they’ve never met. But that’s when the vet says it. “If not for the sages and Skeik, I’d never have gotten a chance to defeat the monster that killed my predecessor, but with the aid of the Hylian Knights, they managed to seal him away for nearly four-hundred years.”

Sheik.

He knows, from the war, from meeting Warriors and watching people of all eras amass, that Sheik isn’t especial to his own time. The captain’s own princess had taken on the disguise herself in order to take a more active role on the front lines, but even so, the name catches him off guard, as does the association with the sages, which he’s only ever heard Wind talk of before.

The sailor doesn’t miss the reference either, the sharp little whip that he is. “What were the sages called? Do you know?”

The vet blinks, staring and clearly confused, but rattles them off all the same. “Zelda, Impa, Nabooru, Saria, Ruto, Daruna, and Rauru?”

The sailor nods, but the ground feels like it’s being swept out from under Time’s feet as the words sink in and that sunshine bright gaze is turned to him. Wind already has some eager words on his lips before his face falls, horror written across it as the truth of the vet’s words sinks in fully. “Holy shit.”

By virtue of simply not wanting to be met with the captain’s ire, he keeps the loud cursing within his own head internal, rather than letting it escape and being fixed under The Look. Even so, he’s half a second from slipping and repeating the sailor’s words in far more colorful language.

“Time...” Wind’s eyes are growing somehow wider, as though they weren’t just a bit too big to begin with, “....oh crap.”

It’s Twilight that makes the connection first, he thinks. He knows his story is forgotten to the world he’d returned to, the one the rancher is a product of, but if there’s one thing his pup is, it’s clever. Picking up on the clues in the exchange as well as what Legend’s said up to now, he can see for himself as realization dawns in midnight blue eyes and Twilight’s face falls. “Sweet Ordonia.”

“What?” Legend asks, glancing about between them, just the same as the others, save Hyrule who looks like he’s rethinking some matter of his own, no doubt what little history has been passed to him now bears reviewing. That doesn’t matter to the rest of them however, because those who know are now gaping, those who don’t are demanding answers, and the captain, who’d met two of the sages for himself and heard their tales, is shaking his head with a sigh.

Time did not sign up for this. Learning that’s he’d split time is one thing, but knowing that somehow, in some way, he’d done so to the extent that not only are his fears about creating multiple timelines actually a reality, but apparently there’s one that spun so far off that not only had he failed, but he’d died at Ganon’s hand and left the burden of defeating the demon to someone else. Two timelines, each resulting in a child being called to do a man’s work, just the same as he had. How old was Legend? Was he the same age as both he and Wind had been? Older? Does he resent the man who left him behind as some people in the sailor’s time do? Like Wind, does he respect his predecessor? Despise him? Curse him? Praise him? His thoughts are spinning and despite not using it, his right eye throbs.

As though sensing his distress, the deity awakens.

It doesn’t happen often. Without the mask, it isn’t nearly as powerful as to accomplish what they can with the aid of the power of the thing. Since abusing its power as a youth though, their magics are enough interlocked, souls enough intertwined, that even removing the cursed thing does not fully displace the deity’s presence from his mind. It is a silent thing at most times, but much like the mask it is sourced from, it awakens when he is in greatest need or fear, and more than once he’s allowed the modicum of its power that now lies bound to his own soul to overtake him in order to escape one situation or another. Such power does not present itself now, but the rumbling voice and the accompanying pulsing pain is enough to shift his focus towards quieting both, attention slipping from his boys and inward to the deity.

Despite managing to gather himself and the boys, to start forwards again on the path, he does not manage to silence the deity. He does, however, manage to ignore it for the time being.

He can only ignore it for so long though.

Sitting on watch after the boys have all gone to sleep, the rumbling thunder of the deity becomes impossible to ignore in the stifling silence around him. The deity will not be silenced, and try as he might, he can’t block-out nor forget the words spoken within his own mind.

“Failure follows in your legacy.”

As though he doesn’t know. It’s been bothering him all day, and despite the rest who hadn't pieced it together asking, he couldn’t bring himself to look, to say anything it was hard enough just putting one foot in front of the other. Wind revealing the split in time had shaken him, but at least he’d known how such a timeline came to be. The vet comes from a world where he’d died. How many of the other boys come from a world, an era, split off from time by his actions? How many timelines did he create?

How many of them have such dark fates as that of Legend’s own?

“He is an heir to failure,” the deity growls, “a scion of death.”

Time shakes his head, voice soft so as to not wake his slumbering team-mates. “No. He’s a hero.”

“To a world that ought not be, that ought to have perished.”

No world ought to perish, especially not because of the actions of one person. Still as he watches the vet sleep, curled up tight around his sword, the voice of the deity continues to ring about in his head. Turning his eyes away to the others doesn’t help though. The deity is truly set off and harsh whispers and growls sound, wondering, just as he does, how many of their number are born of his mistakes, his actions, in a world separate from his own because of actions he hadn’t realized the truth depth of.

He’d turned back time so many times, in both his first and second adventures. Are there timelines born of each time? What of his time in Termina? How many timelines did he create there? How many had seen the moon fall and everyone perish?

Time groans, running a hand over his face, rubbing at the scars and markings left by the deity’s power. Warriors would be so disappointed if he started scratching again, and the scars on either side of his face have finally faded enough to not be as noticeable as when he was a child. There's no mask to tear off, even if the sensation of one lingers as the deity speaks. He doesn’t want to wake up to the captain’s worried stare in the morning at the sight of scars made fresh again. He doesn’t.

Still, he wishes the deity would stop talking.

It doesn’t though, because of course it doesn’t. It hisses in his dreams, whispering as he watches worlds fall and two little figures, he thinks are meant to be Wind and Legend running about, facing the monster he remembers, as well as dark, shapeless figures he doesn’t. They look so small, so young, and despite his heart crying one thing, the deity hisses another. Where he mourns their innocence, the demon screams for their end.

Come morning, he’s a wreck. He manages to go through the motions, washing up with the rest with water from a well on the roadside, shaving and running a hand through his hair enough that it’s not a total mess. The captain was always strict about hygiene and basic care of their appearances. They’re Hyrule’s finest, not to seen wandering around like vagabonds and scamps. Still, the motions feel hollow, like a puppet moving at the command of another, and it feels like a chore to get ready, to strap on his armor, to gird his sword, and to step out onto the path with the others.

Wind and Legend return to walking the fences, apparently determined to do so until the railings give way to open country again. Usually, he’d find that endearing, a proof that despite everything his boys have faced, there still remains a childlike whimsical side to them. Now though, it means that every time one slips or Wind fumbles and yelps, he can’t help but look up and the deity’s words start up all over again.

Failures.

Never intended to exist.

Ought never have come to be.

Proof of the cruelty of the goddesses.

It’s painful. They're good kids, bright young men and skillful, admirable, talented, smart, sharp, kind, and he hates that such dark thoughts invade his mind at the mere sight of them, at even the smallest sound of their voices. It's not their fault that they exist, nor their fault that their worlds are a product of his actions and his mistakes. They don’t deserve the deity’s ire for simply existing.

Yet the roaring of that horrible voice in his mind continues, pulsing through his head and aching at the eye that the demon controls.

He wishes it would stop. Why won’t it stop?

“Time, hey, Time!” He comes back to himself with a blink, head shaking slightly as he raises his good eye to find the captain staring at him. They’re still on the path, still just walking along, still with nothing and no one else in sight, although the rail fence is nowhere to be seen anymore and blessedly means that the two younger heroes are back on the path with the rest, back in their normal places behind him, out of sight and away from the ire of the deity.

“Yes?”

The captain’s face is creased with worry, lips pursed, and gaze guarded. “You blanked out.”

Not blacked out, not fainted, not lost consciousness. No, it’s something rather different, and based off the familiar expression of the other, the soldier is well aware of what it really was; a slip. When stress or pain or emotion are too much, it happens. It’s been less common since he’d put away the mask for the last time, but during the war it happened frequently from overuse of the thing, the deity exercising control in the absence of his own will to.

“I’m alright,” he tries to assure, careful not to look behind him, even though he can feel the worry from the rest, “just tired.”

“We can stop for a rest.”

The captain’s halfway towards turning towards the other, already drawing a breath to call a halt to the rest, but Time stops him with a hand to his arm and a shake of the head, eyes carefully closed to avoid the sight of bright blue or crimson. “Don’t. It won’t help.”

Sleeping isn’t the problem, it’s his mind running away with him in a thousand directions, he doesn’t want it too. Sitting still will only make it worse. Stil, the captain regards him with worry. “Tell me if you change your mind.”

He nods. He won’t, but if he did, he’d tell the other There’s no worry of that though because sitting still right now sounds like actual torture. Just sitting there, a prisoner to his thoughts, to the deity’s thoughts, to wonderings and fears he doesn’t wish to address now or ever; he wouldn’t wish such things on anyone.

Except maybe Ganon. Screw him and everything he’s done to them. He deserves to be tortured by guilt.

Warriors lets it go, but not without a final worried look, and every so often he can feel heavy blue eyes settling on him, reading him, watching for any tick or sign that e’s in need of a break. He appreciates it, and focusing on the captain’s worry is an escape, because the deity has nothing ill to say of the soldier, in fact, he thinks it might even respect the other man, not that it will ever admit to such a thing.

In some ways, it gets easier, but in others, it’s worse. Focusing on his pup, his cub, turns his attention away. He can laugh and tease and watch them tease each other. Having Warriors standing beside him, talking about this thing or that, about paths and courses of action, is almost soothing. Sky’s smile and warm laughter is a balm, and Four’s quiet presence an assurance.

The moment Legend or Wind come into view though, even if his focus isn’t on them, or even what they’re doing, the growl of the deity rises again, a splitting pain in his head.

They know too. Wind’s hurt expressions and confusion are clear, and while Legend doesn’t appear to care at first, after a few days of such treatment, the vet tries to pull him aside and demand what has him treating Wind like a plague. He's not even noticed that the treatment is extended to him, but they all know of the vet’s soft spot for the sailor. He won’t stand to see their leader, whom the kid respects and admires so much, treating the sight of the boy like it’s painful.

But it is. It’s a rush of thoughts and twitch of his hands. It’s the hiss of the deity demanding he purge his namesake of all the dark twists it’s taken due to his actions. It’s images of children fighting demons and worlds falling due to his own failures.

He can’t bring himself to apologize, because that would mean looking at them, speaking to them, and thus hearing the demon scream for their blood to right the wrongs they represent.

Legend gives up in anger. Wind closes off, quiet and pensive. He doesn’t miss the veteran’s hand on broad little shoulders, a silent comfort when he passes by. Doesn’t miss the soft questions whispered from younger to elder, or the harsh glares from violet eyes as begrudging tones reply that they have no answers. He hates it but can’t do anything about it. For their own sakes, ignoring them is kinder than risking letting himself slip and do far worse.

When next they face the shadow, it’s nearly a relief. Finally, he can pour the aggression of the deity into his motions, into the swing of his sword and the roaring of his magic. He can let the demon loose, just a little, just enough to destroy and wreak havoc on enemies that deserve his wrath, on creatures who’ve earned his ire and hatred.

It’s freeing.

There’s no need to hold back, and maybe, just maybe, he let’s himself slip into the background, lets the deity have just a little more power than he’d planned. It’s fine though, it’s fine because maybe this will exhaust the thing, grant it the blood it’s so thirsty for, quench that hunger enough to make it fall silent again.

Once the battle is over, and the deity silent, maybe now he can talk to Wind. Show the boy a smile and apologize, tell him he’s had a migraine that’s impacted by the sailor’s magic or some such thing. Legend or Hyrule might call bull on that, but maybe he’s willing to abuse the fact that Wind’s hero worship of him means he’s more likely to be believed. He’s not telling the kid the truth though, not burdening him with the weight of the horrible thoughts and impulses that wreck his mind, but he’ll give an answer that’s half true, give him something, maybe even sit down and talk about nonsense together to assure that he doesn’t hate the kid. He doesn’t. Wind’s a good kid, and he deserves the world.

He just needs the deity to wear itself out. So, he drops his guard, lets himself fall to the backseat and lets the demon take the reins, sweep over the field with full fury and power unleashed, hoping to exhaust his magic enough that the demon will be silent. Enemies fall like wheat to a scythe, a cloud of black and purple smoke rising in his wake as the deity rampages, blade moving uncommonly fast as he darts to the captain’s side to assist him for a moment, springs over to Twilight to aid him as well.

The deity’s voice rumbles, laughing, savoring the bloodshed and reveling just as much in fighting beside their “true heir”, beside the “dragon of war”. He doesn’t understand that, not entirely. Still, he can guess what it means, and while a dragon does seem to suit the man he’s watched wield flames with the same proficiency as a blade, calling Twilight their “true heir” seems like a direct jab, like spitting in the face of the two other heroes that follow in his wake. They’re just words though. Just more words from the demon god’s mind. They don’t matter. They’re not his thoughts.

Except that when the enemy is dead, when the shadow fled, when the battle over, those words still play in his head, an echo of the deity’s thoughts, and when he tries to take back control, he can’t.

He can’t control his own actions, can’t control even his words, can’t do anything no matter how much he desperately tries to retake control of the body that’s stalking towards where their veteran is wiping his sword off in the grass, can’t do anything as he hears the deity’s thoughts echo around him, watching as his body becomes but a puppet to the still raging demon.

“If Nayru will not prune back the dead branches, it falls to me.”

He wants to scream, to say anything, to catch his own hand as it raises, blade lifted high, but he can’t do anything.

Legend turns at the last second, eyes sharp and blade sharper as it lifts, catches the weapon descending towards him, pushes it and the strength of the deity away and slips himself back, flips over them and perfectly executes a helm-splitter, stopping seconds before their leader’s skull is cleaved in two, voice sharp as it demands to know what’s wrong with him, what he’s doing.

The deity doesn’t care, simply springs back and away, Time’s body swinging his sword at the younger hero even as Warriors shouts something unintelligible and Twilight snarls something sharp, something terrified as their “true heir” rushes towards the scion of death, the heir to failure.

The others aren’t fast enough to stop the deity though, aren’t strong enough to stop the blade clashing, lifting and falling and lifting and falling. He can see, although he can’t do anything else, as the force of the blows rattles up the veteran’s arms. Sees the way his teeth set and his body shakes as he responds, holding the deity puppeteering Time’s body off, but only by backing away, driven slowly further and further from the others who rush and hurry.

Twilight throws himself at them, but the deity catches him by the pelt. All ire fades in favor of fondness as the demon’s thoughts turn sorrowful. He can hear them, a sadness that their true heir will have to see this, a confusion of why the pup does not understand their intent. He knows, if Twilight understood, that he would never condone the actions of the demon, but he can’t say as much even to his own mind as the deity lifts and throws their boy out of reach. Not harsh, not meant to harm, but fully intending to distance the boy from their fight, to stop him interfering.

He flinches, as does his body, as the rancher hits the ground some yards away.

In the opening left by the action, Legend’s tempered sword strikes, blood gushing as the blade rips free of flesh, but the blow does nothing to stop the assault of the demon In fact, it only provokes him further, and the little control Time felt finally fall into his hands is ripped away as his body returns control to the thing that will protect it, to the demon that will not let them be harmed.

Legend is the next to go flying, but not with the care and sorrow granted to Twilight, and instead with blood dripping in his wake as the biggoron sword finally lands a blow.

The shouts of the other boys sound, and there’s the snarling of a wolf beside them.

When his body turns from the broken form of the felled vet, he’s met with the sight of drawn swords and bared teeth as the wolf launches at him. He’s not sure when or why Twi has shifted, but the teeth closing on his arm hold him back for a moment as Warriors throws him forwards as well, attempting, no doubt to seek some weakness. In the war, he’d learned to rip the masks free from his kid’s face when he must, but there’s no mask for the captain to tear away this time, and despite the affection of the deity for “the dragon of war”, the demon god still tosses the captain away, plunging through the hesitant and terrified heroes.

Time’s heart drops when he realizes the goal of the demon: the sailor, eyes hard and blade raised, even as terror and confusion have the kid’s body shaking, voice doing the same as it demands ‘why’. “Time, what’s gotten into you?”

The cry of his heart at the veteran’s fall echoes again as the blow of the deity comes down on the sailor, and while the boy dodges, he’s not fast enough to escape injury.

Blood paints the earth, paints blue fabric and darkens crimson. Pain clouds in violet eye sand in the ocean ones of their youngest.

A roar, like nothing the deity can manage, has him turning.

The last things Time sees are Sky’s blazing eyes and the matching gleam of the Master Sword.

#linked universe #linkeduniverse #lu time #febuwhump #febuwhump 2024 #ketto writes #lu wind #lu legend #lu twilight #lu warriors #lu sky #lu wild #lu hyrule #lu four #fierce deity #dark fierce deity

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masonmovnt · 1 year

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I don’t date assholes

Summary: From the night they met, to memories with each other throughout the years, to the night they confess it all.

Word count: 5.8k words

Warnings: angst, friends to lovers, alcohol

A/N: please be gentle with me, this was my first Mason fic I’ve written! I’m an absolute sucker for friends to lovers, and every time I reread it, I die on the inside 😭 I hope this hits everyone’s feels the way it hit mine. If anyone wants to be tagged in the future in Mason fics, please message me and I’ll add you onto the tag list!

“I don’t date assholes.”

If you had told someone that that’s how you started a friendship with someone, they’d think you were messing with them. A soft snicker escaping their mouth, as they proceeded to ask you what really happened. It made you laugh watching their facial expression change, knowing they were curious as to how someone wanted to be friends with you after blurting out those words.

Your body leaned against the wall, hiding between the wall and the bodies that were circled around you, everyone else conversing with the other people within the group. You? You’d been leaning against the wall for a record breaking 10 minutes, not wanting to engage in conversation with anyone you didn't know. Drunk bodies filled up the apartment fast, giving no room for anyone to wiggle their way across the apartment without awkwardly brushing against another person's body. You had been in your position long enough to get a good glimpse around the current room, your eyes darting from body to body. At one point your attention landed on a group of rowdy boys, consisting of maybe four to five of them. All of them making it easy to tell that they had chugged at least a half a dozen beers to each of their faces, their bodies wobbling all over, making you feel dizzy just by watching them stubble everywhere.

At one point your eyes landed on one of the boys of the group, instantly giving him a once over. He wore a pair of medium washed blue jeans, and had a long sleeve white shirt covering his top half. Visible stains could be seen on his shirt, even in the darkness that took over the room. Most likely the result of having one too many drinks, or stuffing way too many drunk people into a tiny space. Your eyes travelled up his body, making their way towards his face. He sported a cheeky smile, a smile that seemed to never leave his face. Even though he was a mere eight feet or so away from you, you could see the light glistening in his eyes. His soft brown hair plopping down in any and every direction, the sweat dripping off of his forehead causing it to stick against his face. A look that usually made you cringe but for some reason it looked good on him, and you couldn’t tell why.

Apparently you hadn’t been the only one noticing someone. His eyes bouncing off of all the bodies in the room, trying to find the girl who walked into the party two hours ago. The one that turned quite a few heads, his included. It was the way you didn’t care what was happening around you, just simply doing your own thing despite a lot happening around you. It was the way you smiled at someone, brightening up the entire room with a simple gesture. Mason could tell the moment he saw you against the wall, that you didn’t realize how beautiful you actually were. Natural beauty clung to you, making it hard for anyone to look away. Although you had this look on your face that said you’d rather be at home watching Netflix in your comfiest clothing, you still respected the people around you. Showing them that you were still enjoying their company.

Mason lost you a few times throughout the night, getting distracted by the group of people he had been hanging with the moment he stepped through the doors. The group, clearly drunk, didn’t have any clue of Mason and his crush on the girl leaning against the wall. The boys completely smashed didn’t even realize Mason had left them, prancing his way throughout the bodies of people, until he was finally a foot away from you. He waited a few seconds, not wanting to interrupt your conversation, knowing he would be furious if someone interrupted him. The girl you were speaking to instantly looked to her left, her eyes landing on Mason, and then back to you. Her hand landed on your shoulder as she leaned in to whisper something into your ear, before backing away and disappearing into the crowd.

You turned your neck towards the mysterious boy, a blank look quickly replacing the relaxed face you’ve had most of the night. Had he seen you staring at him moments ago? You thought.

“So I know this is weird and all but I’ve noticed you standing here all night,” he started off, running his hand gently against his facial hair and his eyes darting everywhere but at yours, clearly nervous.

You looked at him, letting him know you were waiting for him to continue. It took him a few moments but he finally looked up, giving you a curious look, most likely based off of the blank expression on yours. When he saw you weren't responding, he let out a low sigh.

“How about we leave this place and go have some fun somewhere else?” He lifted his solo cup to his mouth, his lips barely hiding underneath the rim, revealing a fresh smirk.

To say you were shocked was an understatement, because you didn’t know what to even say. He approached you in the least cockiest way, showing nothing but respect while you were still talking to someone. He waited for you to finish, making sure to not interrupt you, something most people at parties forgot to do. The moment he spoke, you could tell he was nervous. Words stuttered through his lips, as he looked everywhere but at you.

You looked up at him, a mischievous smile replacing your blank expression. “I don’t date assholes.”

With the mischievous smile still on your face, you started peeling your body off of the wall, making sure to brush your shoulder against his as you made your way elsewhere. Anywhere else but here.

That night was almost three years ago. Three years ago when you completely turned down Mason, along with insulting him. Of course you hadn’t known Mason before that night, so you didn’t know much about him besides him being gorgeous. You obviously didn’t know how persistent he was, completely shocking you the moment you got home to see a DM from him on Instagram. You didn’t even question how he found your Instagram, because that was the least of your worries. What shocked you the most was that he reached out to you, taking you by surprise. He started off by apologizing, knowing that was the only chance he had to try to make amends with you. He then proceeded to praise you, saying he’s never seen a girl just turn down a guy like that and walk away looking like a complete badass, completely stunning him. This made you chuckle.

The rest was completely history. Mason kept in contact with you through Instagram, making it his mission to get to know you. Beside being one of the most beautiful girls he had ever laid eyes on, he loved how genuine you were. Since being in the eyes of thousands of people at a young age, it was almost impossible to meet anyone without knowing whether they liked him for him, or because he grew up in the spotlight. He knew the moment that you turned him down that you didn’t care if he was a professional athlete. You didn’t let things slide just because he was who he was, and he could finally say that it was refreshing to meet someone new.

Of course even though you turned Mason down, it didn’t stop him from being his flirty self. A few weeks after developing a friendship, he couldn’t help but always bring up that night. He joked around about him not being your type, but how he would change your mind eventually, because of course he was the Mason Mount. You instantly laughed in his face, finding it hilarious that he was so determined to change your mind. Despite finding him attractive that one night, you couldn’t think of him but anything more than a friend.

It didn’t take long for you to meet his friends and vice versa. Mason was constantly asking you to hang out whenever he wasn’t busy with football, and would turn into a child when you turned him down because you were having a girls night.

“I can be one of the girls,” he said into the phone. You weren’t with him at that very moment, but you could sense the pout he had just replaced his smile with. “I just wanna see you.”

Even though you tried to be stern with him, he always ended up winning. He knew exactly what to say, knowing what got you to cave, and it always worked. He felt bad whenever he pulled out his moves, but instantly forgot about how bad he felt the moment he saw you. You seemed to always make him feel better, even after some of the worst days he’s ever had.

His friends loved you from the start, and found it hilarious that you turned him down the way you did. Despite Mason telling them to stop bringing it up, they never failed to do so, causing a chuckle to escape your mouth as Mason sighed before you.

“Oh come on you big baby,” you shoved his body with your shoulder. “You have to admit, it was a funny way to meet.”

One thing both friend groups had in common was the way they saw the both of you guys together. From the outsides eyes, you seemed liked more than friends, even if you yourself denied it hundreds of times. People noticed the way your guys’ eyes darted around the room searching for the other person, especially when the other person wasn’t in the room. They saw the way you guys interacted with each other, basically inseparable. Despite Mason trying to stay as discreet as possible, he hadn’t realized that whenever he made a flirtatious comment towards you, someone was within a few feet to hear it. To everyone else you guys were basically a couple, just too dumb to realize and confess your feelings to one another. In reality, you two were just super close and couldn’t imagine not being around the other.

It was a Friday night during the Christmas break, meaning both yourself and Mason were completely free to do whatever you wanted. During the holidays Mason wouldn't hesitate to head back to his hometown, getting to spend the holidays with his family for a couple of days. Unfortunately for you it was the complete opposite. Christmas wasn’t really something you enjoyed celebrating, and you dreaded when the time came around each year. Mason knew this about you, and even tried convincing you to come home with him to spend the holidays with him. Usually he didn’t need to do much convincing at all, but with Christmas involved, it was near impossible.

“Why don’t you wanna come home with me?” He pouted down at you. “My family would love to have you around.”

“Mason,” you sternly look up at him, letting him know how serious you were. “You know my answer will always be the same so why bother asking.”

“It’s worth a shot.”

“Just please go home to your family, I’m sure they wanna see you.”

“No.” He huffed, crossing his arms over his chest.

“What do you mean no?” He finally had your full attention, knowing that his stubbornness drove you crazy.

“If you aren’t coming home with me for Christmas, then I’m not going.”

“Wait,” you turned your body so you were now facing him, your legs underneath your body as you sat on them. “So you’re saying you’re just gonna stay here and spend Christmas here with me?”

He nodded down at you, “that’s exactly what I’m saying. I’m not going back home to leave you here alone, so I’m staying. My family can last one Christmas without me, I can’t leave you here alone.”

If you learned one thing in the three years you guys have been really good friends, it’s believe everything Mason says. He was never a bullshitter, and would tell you exactly how it is. If he didn’t like you? You would know within two minutes of meeting him. If he didn’t like something you did? He wouldn’t hesitate to tell you exactly that. So you knew as soon as those words came out of his mouth, there was no convincing him. Once his mind was set there was no going back.

Knowing that you didn’t really care for the festivities of Christmas, Mason tried making the most of his time spent with you that didn’t remind you of Christmas. Even though everyone dusted off their skates near the holidays and got together to skate, you never really connected the two together. Maybe it was because hockey was in your life for most of your childhood, your brothers both growing up playing hockey competitively.

“It’s freezing outside today, so why don’t we just stay at my apartment and cozy up near the fire instead of skating,” he suggested as you both walked in the direction towards his condo.

“I’ll never turn down the fireplace and you know that Mase,” you laughed, looking up at him. “But isn’t that something we do all the time?”

“Yes it is,” he snickered knowing you would say something like that. He just knew you so well. “But I’ve got a few things we can do to mix it up.”

“And that is?”

“You’ll see babe, you’ll see!”

When you guys finally made it back to his condo fifteen minutes later, it got you realizing just how freezing it was in the city tonight. Your body shivered instantly, reacting to the temperature difference from Mason’s apartment and the wind chill outside.

“Just get comfy and I’ll set everything up,” Masom ripped off his jacket, chucking it on the backrest of the couch in the living room. Excitement radiating off of his voice, letting you know that he’d been planning this for a while. He always seemed to amaze you, coming up with all sorts of ideas you yourself never once thought about.

You made your way through the familiar condo, your feet seamlessly gliding across the shiny hardwood floors. Your eyes darting off of the familiar furniture, since you probably spent more time at Mason’s condo than you did yours. It made you feel at home, especially being alone at your condo most nights when you decided to stay there. Mason would make jokes about you moving in since you always seemed to be there even when he wasn’t, but you always took them as that, a joke.

Mason exited his guest bedroom with a giant box in his hands, the contents of the box jiggling with every step he took towards you. He dropped the box onto the dining room table, and turned his attention back towards you.

“So I know whenever we come back to my condo to relax near the fireplace it’s usually while watching Netflix,” he commended, smirking down at you. “But I’ve decided to change it up.”

“What’s in the box Mason?”

He made his way towards the fridge, swiftly opening it and pulling a few things out. With his arms completely full a few seconds later, he pulled his body away from the fridge to close it, before making his way toward the dining room table where you were now standing at.

“Alcohol?” You knew you had a confused look on your face the moment Mason looked up at you and chuckled.

“Yes alcohol,” he placed it down in the middle of the table. “I think tonight calls for a night of board games and drinking.”

No matter what it was that Mason came up with, you guys always ended up enjoying yourselves. Whether it was the activity he decided on or just the quality time you both spent together doing everyday stuff, you never seemed to get bored. You were an introvert, mostly keeping to yourself, but with Mason you felt like you could trust him with your whole life.

“I say by the end of monopoly, you’re too drunk to even stand up,” Mason chuckled as he opened up two beers, passing one to you as he took a seat at the table.

You pulled the seat beside him out, moving your body quickly into the seat before taking a giant swing, “I say I’m perfectly fine and you’re the one who I have to take care of tonight.”

“Oh you’re on,” he smirked at you, clinking his beer bottle with yours before opening up the box in front of you.

Maybe it was because you were a bit smaller than Mason, or maybe it was because you didn’t consume enough alcohol frequently to have a high alcohol tolerance, but to say you were drunk was no lie. You were smashed, and it was no surprise to you when you needed Mason’s help to make sure you were able to stand up properly. The game of monopoly had gone on for a long three hours, money scattered all over the board as a result of Mason flaunting all his winnings.

“I knew I’d win,” he flung his money in the air, it slowly whirling through the air before it plopped down on the game board, looking like a pile of freshly fallen leaves.

“Okay I get it Mase,” you stood against the table for support, giving him a look of annoyance.

“You’re just jealous that I not only won in monopoly, but I also called it that you’d be smashed by the end of it.”

“You’re always picking on me,” you huffed out as you crossed our arms across your chest, your eyes following Mason walk across the room until he was in front of the closet. Before you knew it, Masom had lifted up your jacket from the hanger, bringing it towards you at the table, getting ready to help you put it on. No matter what it was, he always found any and every way to make you feel like a child. He knew how much you hated being taken care of, and took it upon himself to annoy you until you rolled your eyes at him.

“Come on drunk child,” he let out a loud laugh, causing you to let out a pout. “Let’s get you dressed so we can go on a walk.”

“Wait you’re gonna bring us outside for a walk?” You shrieked up at him. “It’s nearly 1 AM Mase, we’re both intoxicated. We’re the perfect victims for kidnapping!”

“Come on drama queen,” he clung onto your hand, yanking open his front door as he let out a laugh. “Let’s go before our chances of becoming kidnapping victims become higher.”

“I’m glad you find this hilarious!”

No matter how against a walk you were, you still followed him out the condo, not having much of a choice since he was holding your hand. Even if you weren’t as intoxicated as you were, it wouldn’t settle right with you knowing that he was outside in the middle of the night on his own, and you were safe in his condo. Wherever he went, you seemed to follow, even severely intoxicated at 1am.

“We really shouldn’t be doing this!” You yelled out at Mason, him already a few feet ahead of you trying to cross the road.

“Oh come on babe,” he chuckled out, his breath lingering in the air letting anyone know that it was indeed a lot more freezing outside than it was a few hours prior. “Live a little. We’re just roaming around having fun, no harm in doing that.”

You huffed out at him, your feet still planted on the curb, never touching the road.

“God you’re so slow,” he began walking back towards you until he was only a foot away from you, breaking the distance with you by reaching out his hand. “Gimme your hand so I don’t lose you!”

Your eyes gazing down at his hand in front of him, waiting for you to grab onto it. Without overthinking anything too much, you lifted your hand to grab ahold of his hand, knowing that if you over thought it, you’d probably leave his hand hanging there. “Let’s go.”

He led the way across the street making sure you didn’t leave his sight. The nighttime air stood silent, the sound of the both of your feet hitting against the sidewalk echoing throughout the night. A silence overtaking you two, but not the type of silence that left you guys feeling awkward, but a good silence.

“Where are we going?” You finally broke the silence, curiosity taking over. “We’ve been walking for at least 15 minutes!”

“We’re almost there I promise,” he looked down at you, squeezing your hand in the process to reassure you everything would be okay.

Despite his reassurance, you still looked over your shoulder constantly, terrified that something bad was gonna happen. Even before knowing Mason you were constantly looking over your shoulder every second of the day. It was a habit you had that you couldn’t seem to brush away. Once you met Mason, you seemed to do it a lot less. You always wondered why it took someone special coming into your life to stop doing it as much as you used to, but could never think much of it. One of your good girlfriends thought otherwise. She was convinced Masom made you feel safe and sheltered, meaning you didn’t have to look at every single thing that moved around you. You were finally able to breathe comfortably when stepping outdoors, and despite always brushing it off everytime she said it was all him, you couldn’t not believe it. It was him the entire time.

“I remember going to the park as a kid, and just forgetting about everything,” Mason said from the other swing only a foot or so away from you. “My best friend and I used to sneak away to come play soccer or road hockey. It was probably one of my favourite memories with him as a child.”

You gave him a little nod, letting him know you were listening to him. Whenever he brought up his family or friends you knew he got into his feelings, sadness taking over him as he remembered he didn’t get to see them as much as he did when he was a kid. It probably didn’t help the situation that he was supposed to be back home at this very moment, surrounded by his family and friends for the next week.

“Sometimes it’s the simplest things that you experience with a person that makes them special to you,” he looked up at you, giving you a stern look as he let out a sigh. “You came into my life so unexpectedly, but I’m so glad you gave me that chance the night I was an idiot. I don’t know what I would be like if I didn’t have you.”

“Mason are you okay?” You lifted your butt off the swing, taking a few steps to Mason until you were standing in front of him. “You never get like this.”

“It’s just I’ve felt like this for a while and I thought maybe I was confused about us, but lately these feelings have been so intense I can’t hide them anymore,” his breath lingering in the air, as he looked up at you.

“Mase, what are you talking about?” You grabbed a hold of his cold hands, squeezing them. “You’re confusing me.”

“I love you okay?” He huffed out loud, as his eyes didn’t leave yours. “I know I’m always cracking jokes about it but I’m an idiot who’s so in love with you it isn’t even funny.”

You stood still not knowing if you could move. You heard everything he said to you, but it’s like your body still hadn’t processed it yet.

“Say something babe,” he squeezed your hand, pulling you out of your trance.

“Mason I-,” you stuttered as you looked down at your intertwined fingers. “We’re both intoxicated and need sleep. I think this is a conversation we need to have when we’re both sober.”

It took you a moment to build up the courage to look Mason in the eyes, scared that he might be mad at you for choosing to disregard the conversation completely due to the high alcohol consumption you both did. When you finally did look up, you were met with Mason looking down at you. His face had a blank expression on it, but his eyes held back a story. His eyes filled with hurt, completely crushing you as you had no choice but to look at him.

“Let’s get back to the condo,” he lifted his body off of the swing, letting go of your hand and walking right past you. “It’s getting late.”

You knew he was hurt, completely devastated. You knew that if you confessed your feelings to him and got the same reaction that he got from you, you’d be heartbroken. It took a huge amount of courage to finally let those feelings escape your conscious, and you could tell just how upset he truly was. Although you could sense how upset Mason was, he never once left your side the whole walk home. His hands weren’t intertwined with yours like they usually were, him placing them in his jacket pocket the moment he hopped off the swing waiting for you. He still stood beside you the entire way home, making sure you felt safe even if he was upset. Him being upset didn’t change the fact that he still cared about you, even though he knew there was a possibility that you didn’t feel the same as him.

The feeling of warmth overtakes you as the bright sunlight shines through the cracks of the curtains, the curtains definitely not doing its job. You slowly open your eyes, your hands instantly trying to shoot up to your face so you could rub your eyes, a habit you always seemed to do every morning, except you couldn’t move them. Lifting your head up off of the pillow, your eyes slowly open, your vision taking a few seconds to adjust to your surroundings. Your eyes instantly make their way to the body basically on top of you, the culprit that is making it impossible for you to move your body. His hair dangles off his head, a complete mess. His head is no longer laying on your chest, his chin resting against your boob, a smirk planted on his face.

“Good morning beautiful,” he looked up at you. “How did you sleep?”

You looked at him with a blank expression, clearly confused that he was so cheerful, especially after the events that happened the night prior.

“I slept good,” you gave him a smile, moving a curl that was stuck against his forehead out of the way. “How did you sleep?”

“I slept good as well,” he lifted his body off of your chest, lowering his feet onto the floor before getting off of the bed. “I feel refreshed for once.”

“That’s good, I know how shitty your sleep schedule is when you travel, so I’m glad you were able to catch up on some sleep.��

“Yeah,” his back still facing you, as he made his way towards the door. “I’m gonna go make some breakfast.”

Despite him being his cheerful self, you knew something was up. You knew he was taking whatever happened last night hard, and although it was upsetting him quite a bit, he wanted nothing more than to make sure you were in a good mood. He was always looking after others, but always seemed to put himself last. You loved how much he cared for the people closest to him, but you hated it when he put himself dead last.

You whipped the blanket off of your body, the heat from the apartment keeping you warm despite the blanket no longer there to shelter you. You slowly removed yourself out of the bed, following the humming echoing throughout the apartment. Mason loved to cook for the both of you, and you knew he was doing it even if you weren’t in the same room as him because he was always humming to himself.

You made your way outside of the bedroom and into the living room, the aroma of eggs and bacon hitting your nose instantly. A fresh plate made for you sitting at the table, waiting for you to indulge. He knew the way to your heart was through your stomach, and constantly made sure you were fed, even if you told him you weren’t hungry after not eating all day. You took a seat at the table, knowing he was probably about done with cooking his food, and would come join you for breakfast.

“So I kind of lied to you earlier this morning when you asked me how I slept,” he dropped the spatula in the sink, his body turning so he was now facing you as you sat at the table.

“About what?” You gulped, knowing that this conversation was probably leading to what happened last night.

“Here’s me being completely honest with you, because I shouldn’t have lied to you when you asked me,” he moved his body around the kitchen island, making his way towards you at the table. “I slept like shit last night.”

“You should have woken me up Mason, I would have helped you get some sleep,” you placed the fork that you had in your hand, on the table, giving him your full attention now. You knew this conversation needed to happen, and you had braced yourself for it the moment you stepped out of bed, knowing that when it came to Mason and how he felt, he didn't like waiting too long to resolve the situation.

“I couldn’t bring myself to do it,” he stared down at you as he pulled out the chair beside you to take a seat, making sure he was still facing you. “You just looked so peaceful and I couldn’t bring it upon myself to wake you. I saw the look on your face last night when I told you, and I didn’t want you staying up half the night overthinking, because I know you.”

“But it was okay for you to stay up all night tossing and turning and overthinking?” You argued back. “I get my reaction probably wasn’t what you wanted, but I hope you understand where I was coming from when I told you I wanted to have this conversation while we were both sober.”

“You don’t have to explain yourself,” he looked down at his hands as he began playing with his fingers. He was nervous. “I was just so in my emotions last night and I have been for a while now. I should have just waited another day to tell you. I was an idiot and I get that.”

“Mason stop calling yourself an idiot,” you grabbed ahold of his hand, getting him to stop fidgeting with his fingers and pay attention to you. “Clearly you were in your feelings last night and have been for a while. You had every right to express how you feel, and maybe I shouldn’t have completely brushed you off the way I did. That’s on me.”

“It’s okay because last night was last night, and this morning is this morning,” he smiled up at you, the first smile he cracked since you both woke up. “Here I am fully sober, letting you know that I’ve been an idiot for the last three years since we met each other. I was an idiot the night I decided to talk disrespectfully to a girl and made a fool of myself. I’m an idiot who hid his feelings from everyone, including you, because I was scared that you just thought of me as a close friend. I’m an idiot who decided after waiting three years to finally tell you how I felt, to tell you when we were both intoxicated. But now, I’m the idiot who’s completely sober, telling you how much you have meant to me these last three years, and how you continue to be the person who makes me the person I am today. I’m an idiot who’s been in love with you, and I’m finally growing the balls to tell you.”

You looked up at him, tears threatening to escape past your eyelids as you listened to every word that escaped his mouth. There was a difference between the way he told you the night prior and at this very moment. Of course you believed him the moment those words left his mouth last night at the park, but his words this morning left you speechless. The passion felt through his words was different this time, and you felt it.

“Mason if you’re an idiot then so am I,” you lifted your body off of the chair, and into his lap, bringing your arms around his shoulder. “I’m the one who hid their feelings from everyone, including myself, in hopes that maybe if I kept telling myself that you didn’t like me, that my feelings would just go away. I just assumed you were always joking around and didn’t see me that way.”

“So it’s safe to say that we’re both idiots and we could have been together this whole time?” He chuckled at you, a bright smile illuminating the space around you.

“I guess we’re the ones to blame then,” you laughed, leaning your head against his shoulder, the feeling of relief finally taking you over.

"I guess we are love," he rubbed your shoulder, placing a gentle kiss on top of your head. "I guess we are."

Maybe it wouldn't have taken as long as it did for you two to get together if you guys had listened to the people around you, constantly bickering at them as they always questioned you two about your relationship with each other. Maybe you guys would have been together this whole time, laughing about how funny it was the way you two met. One positive thing that came out of you guys waiting three years to finally realize your love for each other were the memories you made with each other. They say most successful relationships form from great friendships, and despite your friendship starting off a little rocky, you knew just how great of a friendship you guys had with each other. You trusted each other, you were there for each other during the good and the bad times, but now you guys could finally add another chapter to your friendship. The first chapter of your romantic relationship, a relationship full of I love you's.

#mason mount fic #mason mount #mason mount x you #mason mount x reader #mason mount x y/n #my writing #Mason mount imagine

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