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unoislazy · 5 months

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Healing Takes Time

Injured! Mizu x Reader

Summary: you’re just a simple healer minding your business, avoiding a fight that had broken out along your street when suddenly an extremely wounded strange man ends up at your door.

Disclaimers; very soft angst, nothing too bad.

Mizu’s pronouns shift depending on the POV

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Blood.

Something that Mizu was all too familiar with. The blood of her enemies, her families, even her own. She had seen what could be considered more than the average person's fair share of bloody disputes. That’s been her life, that’s what everything ends in for her.

Blood.

And now, here she was again, drenched in blood. Laying on an empty street surrounded by her foes that she had successfully taken down but not without costing herself a lot of her own energy. She lay there, the only movement coming from her was the shallow rising and falling of her chest as her breathing became more labored. She could barely keep her eyes open as she looked up at the sky.

She wanted to move, she needed to move, she had to finish what she started. She had to get up, this couldn’t be where she died. Not now.

With all the might left in her, Mizu wearily got herself off the ground, propping herself up on whatever she could find around her, standing up as tall as she could without making the pain unbearable. A hard feat to accomplish considering the several broken bones now housed within her body, the slashes she endured that were still leaking blood, and the bruises that had already begun to form in every area. She was in a bad shape, and she knew that, but she couldn’t just let go. She had to continue.

Mizu continued to try to walk, holding herself up with any object near her, but after a certain point she realized she truly wasn't going to get very far. Her mind had become very dizzy and her eyes began to cross.

Before she knew it she had collapsed on the hardwood floor just outside of someone’s house.

Luckily that house belonged to you.

You heard the commotion outside and hid somewhere within your house. You didn’t want to get involved, and you didn’t need to, so you wouldn’t. You had only begun to come out of hiding once you couldn’t hear the fighting anymore.

You sighed in relief, hoping it would be awhile before the next fight would break out. Fights usually broke out on your street, with all the men being thrown out of the different houses for not paying properly or not following the rules. But this fight was much different, much more brutal. The person in the middle you had only gotten a glimpse of before you rushed inside, you couldn’t make out much of them from the distance you were at but they were quite lanky compared to the men they were fighting.

For some reason, you had hoped they had won. Why? You couldn’t tell. People always make assumptions off of the little information they have, and you guessed this was just one of those times.

You rose from your crouched spot, readying yourself to continue whatever activity you had stopped halfway through. You carefully walked towards your door and just as you were about to open it, you heard a loud thump come from the other side.

You jumped back in shock, your hands trembling. What if they were here to get you next? What if they saw you looking and they didn’t want any witnesses? A thousand questions ran through your mind at a million miles a second. You had no idea what to expect from the other side of the door, and you really didn’t want to find out.

And yet, here you were, about to open the door anyways. Your curiosity was getting the better of you. After all, you didn’t hear any other movement, so who or whatever was just dropped on your doorstep was probably of no harm… right?

Your hands still shook with fear as you approached the door, you very carefully grabbed it, slid it open and to your surprise you now faced what you had thought to be a dead body. It didn’t take long for you to realize it was the same person who had been in the middle of the fight. Looks like they won… not by much though.

All you could manage was to stare at what you thought to be a motionless body, devoid of any signs of life. But as you looked closer, continuing to stare you realized.

“They’re alive?” You shouted to literally no one. You panicked a bit, it had been a long time since you had had to work on wounds, especially on someone who seemed to be on the brink of death. You had to act and you had to act fast.

As quickly and as gently as you could, you dragged the person into your house, and sat them in a comfortable position. They groaned a bit as you moved them which was a good enough sign. You had noticed that they also had a sword with them, a katana to be precise.

Maybe they were a samurai?

You shook your head, that wasn’t important right now. Regardless of whether they were a samurai or not, they were bleeding to death and you had to stop it.

You grabbed their sword and rushed back inside, leaning it on the wall before rushing off to grab your kit of medicines that you always kept in the same area of the room if you ever needed to use it again. You had begun to work on them immediately, sewing the open wounds, serving them medicines, feeding them. It was a lot of work for some stranger who just plopped down on your doorstep suddenly.

Four days.

You had been taking care of this person for almost four full days and they didn’t seem to make any signs to signal consciousness. You feared the worst, maybe you hadn’t gotten there in time, maybe you should try a different medicine?

On the bright side, their wounds had closed properly, and seemed to be healing which made you think they were getting better they just needed more rest.

You sighed, standing up and stretching, turning away from the body that still lay fairly motionless. You tried your best and that was truly the most you could do. Although, you truly didn’t want to have to deal with someone’s death on your hands but hey, you weren’t the one fighting them so really this situation could’ve just been avoided all together.

You sat in silence thinking to yourself, paying not a singular ounce of attention to what you assumed to be a man behind you. Why would you? You thought he was unconscious.

Well she was. But now, her eyes had fluttered open, seeing your back fully turned to her. Mizu panicked, not knowing where she was, what had happened to her while she was out. The first thing she tried to look for was her sword, but it was nowhere near her, which meant she was just going to have to take you out herself.

You still hadn’t noticed that the strange man had woken up, but by the time you did, he was already in the process of knocking you over. You were caught so off guard you had no time to even grab onto anything as you fell. You hit the ground and you hit it hard. Your head smacked against the hardwood floor, the rest of your body hitting the ground with a thump, similar to that of the one you heard when you had found the strange man at your door.

You took a second before trying to get back up, only to be slammed back down once again, hands pinned to either side of your head. You gasped, it was truly all you could manage to do as you tried to process what in god's name was even happening to you. One minute you’re standing, the next you’re on the floor with the once unconscious man now straddling you like there was no tomorrow.

“Seems like you’ve healed more than I thought.” You tried to joke. You were very clearly terrified, you had no idea what this person was capable of but if they had taken out a group of men on their own you didn’t even want to begin to think what they could do to you if they saw you as a threat.

“Who are you, where am I?” He asked threateningly, still holding onto your wrists as tight as possible. It stung a bit but you couldn’t blame them for acting in such a way. Anyone would be frightened if they woke up in some strangers house without any means of defending themself.

“I’m just a healer, You’re in my house, you collapsed outside four days ago and I brought you inside to help.” You explained frantically. You hadn’t realized until just then that you had two strikingly blue eyes staring at you. Again, that wasn’t entirely important to the situation at hand but you couldn’t help but be fascinated by them.

The man’s eyes had softened slightly as he looked down at himself, his bloodstained clothes had dried but he had noticed, and felt, some stitches along his arms, and one are on his back. Once he confirmed your explanation to be true, he got off of you, not without groaning in pain a few times. The adrenaline must have kept him from initially feeling the injuries that still remained on his body.

“I gave you medicines and stitched up any injuries I could see. I didn’t feel it appropriate to try and… remove your clothing and all.” You explained, it was a true explanation but you felt embarrassed having to say it regardless.

“Thank you.” He responded quietly, his eyes seemed as if they were glued to the ground before he then looked back to you.

“I’m… sorry for reacting like that.” He apologized, his hands now resting on his lap as he sat on his knees, facing you.

“It’s fine, I’m sure anyone waking up in a strange place would’ve reacted the same way. Maybe not with as much skill.” You joked but it didn’t seem to gain any reaction from the still nameless man in front of you.

“I must get going.” He stated, readying himself to stand. You raised an eyebrow at him, truly not believing his statement. You both knew he was in no shape or form to even be walking around. The fact he had gotten up so swiftly the first time was astonishing.

“Whatever you need to do it will have to wait, you still need to rest.” You began, earning a slight glare from the man. You had never received such a glare from anyone and his blue eyes only enhanced the icy feeling he gave. It was clear he was very determined to leave and not much was going to change his mind, so you continued, “Unless you can walk out that door on your own without using anything for help.”

The door was not that far away, it was an easy walk for anyone who was uninjured. The man clearly took this as a challenge as he stood up, you alongside him in case he fell back.

“I don’t need any help.” He groaned, trying to discreetly hold the side of his torso to quiet the pain.

“Mhm, whatever you say. Just walk towards the door.” You challenged. He huffed, taking one singular step forward before immediately losing his balance and falling into you.

“That’s what I thought.”

You carefully wrapped his arm over your shoulder and helped him back over to the bed that you had laid out for him.

“You need to rest.” You ordered and clearly he was not in a strong enough state for him to argue at all.

“By the way… you never gave me your name. It would be helpful to know considering it seems like you might have to stay here for a while.”

His eyes turned to you, at this point you figured it was the only part of his body that he could move without evoking anymore pain.

He paused for a moment, clearly deep in thought on whether he should give you his name or not. He took a deep breath before responding,

“Mizu. My name is Mizu.” He shared quietly. You smiled in response, glad that he at least seemed to trust you enough to let you know his name.

“Well then Mizu, you need to rest. I’ll make some more soup for you to eat later.”

He nodded quietly before lightly shutting his eyes. You found yourself staring at the man for a bit longer than you probably should have before turning back to start making the soup for him.

Mizu had ended up staying much longer than he had initially anticipated but it turned out he was a lot more hurt than either of you realized. It took him another few days before he could get up and walk around without help, but he still clearly needed a little while longer at least for some of his bones and other injuries to heal.

“You are seriously impatient.” You groaned, watching as the man had grabbed his sword in preparation to go out training yet again.

“I need to train.” He stated plainly, as he made his way towards the door.

“Mizu, I just redid some of your stitches yesterday. You have to give it time before you go back to training or you’re going to keep reopening them.” You scolded, stirring the ladle that sat in the dish of medicine. He paid you no mind as he walked out the door, going to the exact same area in the woods he had been going to for about a week now. Practically the moment he was able to stand on his own he had insisted he was at least well enough to train, and despite your arguments, he always went out anyways. And despite your arguments, he always came back needing more stitches. You had repaired his clothing for him at some point during his stay and while he was thankful, this meant repairing your previous stitches had been a lot more difficult. Luckily the only ones that kept opening were the ones on his arms so there was no real need to have him undress.

You sighed, pouring out some of the medicine into a separate dish before getting up to occupy yourself with something else. You hadn’t had to use any of your medicinal knowledge in a long time. Most people who lived around this area didn’t usually have a need for it considering they were usually too drunk to realize they needed medical help. Sure you had knowledge but you didn't have a business for it, so you didn't exactly go out of your way to help. That being said, if someone wound up at your door needing help, your door was always open.

Not much time had passed before Mizu returned, and just like you had expected, he returned with reopened wounds.

“Is it the ones on your arm?” You asked, to which he nodded before stopping himself.

“And the one on my back.” He responded. You let out a long drawn out sigh in response. Of course, you enjoyed Mizu’s company. He may not say much, but him just being there gave you a feeling you haven't really felt before. You couldn’t exactly place it, but you enjoyed his company. That being said, you didn’t enjoy having to stitch him up all the time. This time you were not allowing him to leave until his wounds properly healed.

Luckily you wouldn’t need him to fully undress, it was just on his back after all so there was no harm in it.

“Then you get yourself situated, I’ll go get the materials.” You sighed, walking to a different room as Mizu went to sit in his usual spot. Once you returned, you were faced with Mizu’s bareback, which was unsurprisingly very toned. You couldn't help but admire his physique before you heard him say,

“Are you just going to stare or are you going to help?”

“Right.” You replied, embarrassed to have been caught staring. You quickly set your things down behind him and got yourself situated. You raised your hand, your fingers very gently tracing the outside edges of the wound which you had noticed caused Mizu to flinch.

“Sorry.” You apologized. It was just something you did in your own practice, you don’t know why but it somehow helped with you visualizing how you were going to stitch it back up. Without another word, you carefully began your procedure. Mizu had always been pretty good about not moving when it came to stitches, you assumed he had to deal with it a lot.

It didn’t take long for you to finish. You sat back, admiring your work before realizing that there was also a wound on his shoulder.

“I should probably do the one on your shoulder too but I can't reach it from back here. Do you mind turning around?” You asked which caused Mizu to hesitate. You didn’t understand why at first, you simply thought he was just going to say he could tough that one out.

“Mizu please, It could get infected if I don’t work on it.” You pleaded, to which Mizu sighed. You stared at him with a visibly confused expression before he slowly turned around to face you.

Clearly it didn't take long for you to realize why he had hesitated in the first place.

However, you paid no mind to it. You were a healer after all, you had to be able to heal all parts of the body so it was something you would’ve had to have gotten used to sooner or later.

Just as you had done before, your fingers softly traced the outside of the wound on her shoulder, earning a hiss from Mizu. You apologized again, just as you had done before. Because of the location of this wound, you unfortunately had to get a bit closer to Mizu’s face than either of you would have preferred at this point in time. You had to be able to see what you were doing of course. She simply just looked in the opposite direction, focusing on one of the paintings you had hanging on your wall.

This was probably the closest either of you had been to each other ever since you met, which to be fair by this point was not that long ago. It was also the first time in a long time either of you had been in a close proximity to… well anyone really. It was uncomfortable at first, but you both relaxed into the closeness after a few minutes.

“So, how long have you been fighting for?” You asked, trying to break the silence a bit. You two had gotten to know each other a fair amount during Mizu’s stay but to be honest, Mizu knew more about you than you did of her. She wasn’t one to really disclose many details, but she was a great listener. When she wanted to be at least

“Many years. Since I was pretty young.” She answered plainly as if she was remembering something from her past.

“Well, your training is going to have to wait.” You said, backing away having finally finished the stitches. She turned to you with a slight glare, much like the one she had given you on the day she first woke up. It was a glare that said, “You can’t tell me what to do.”

“I'm serious.” You said, sending a stern look back to the incredibly stubborn woman. “If you open those wounds again, good luck trying to do your back by yourself.” You shrugged, basically leaving her no choice on the matter.

“The more you rest, the faster you'll get out of here, and the faster you'll be able to get back to fighting to your heart's content.”

Mizu sighed, she knew you were right, and she knew she was only setting herself back by continuing to train in such a state. So, she silently agreed to listen to you.

“Now get dressed, your food will be ready soon.” To be honest, you both kind of forgot she was topless to begin with which was not something Mizu was expecting. She truly expected some big reaction, some sort of rejection, you kicking her to the curb, but you did none of those things. In fact you didn’t even react at all. It didn’t even occur to her that you hadn’t reacted to her eyes either. The day she woke up, she didn't realize until she was just about to fall back asleep that her glasses had been taken off. She had pinned you down and looked you dead in the eyes and instead of freaking out and calling her a monster you continued to welcome her with open arms. You didn’t even kick her out because of her wild reaction. You were so… understanding.

It was almost unnerving to her. It wasn’t a reaction she was used to so it wasn’t something she knew how to deal with. You just… accepted her like it was nothing. You just simply went back to whatever you were doing beforehand and paid no mind to her flaws. How? Why?

Even after she had gotten back into her normal clothes, her hair done up like usual, her glasses on, you treated her as if nothing had happened. You had yet to shout demon, or to call her a monster while you pushed her way. Instead, if anything, you continued to get closer to her as her stay extended.

You were getting close.

Too close.

As time had gone on, she continued to expect you to suddenly change your mind and no longer allow her company. But that day never came.

“Mizu!” You shouted upon returning home. Mizu sat in her usual place, sipping on some tea she had made not too long before you returned home.

“I saw this in the market today and I thought of you, so I figured I’d buy it. What do you think?” You asked, holding out a patterned bandana that had several different variations of blue on it. Mizu lowered her cup before she walked towards you. She looked down at it, gently taking it from your hands as she continued to stare.

How long had it been since someone had actually gone out of their way to buy something for her…

It was such a small gesture and yet she felt so touched by it. She didn’t want to, she had built walls around her heart for a reason. She didn’t want to let anyone else in out of fear of them rejecting her just as everyone else had done.

But you had already begun to chip away at that wall, piece by piece, slowly working your way into her heart and she hated it. She hated that you were getting so far, she didn’t want to let you in, she didn’t want to make that same mistake.

And yet something was telling her she could trust you. It was that same feeling she had had every other time, so why should she listen now. Why were you being so kind to her, why were you so different from all the rest, why did you not fear her?

“Do you not like it?” You asked quietly, snapping her out of her thoughts. “You don’t have to take it if you don’t like it, it didn't really cost much. I just thought of you when I saw it and I-” Before you could finish your thought, Mizu had quickly enveloped you in a tight hug. You were taken aback by this gesture, not really taking Mizu to be someone to show their appreciation through physical touch. And normally, Mizu wouldn’t be.

It had been so long since Mizu had felt a warm embrace from anyone, but she felt no other way to describe how she felt. Your arms floated above her back as you processed what was happening before you gently placed them down, accepting her embrace. You two stood there for a good while before she let go of you.

She simply muttered quietly, “Thank you.” before walking off.

You smiled as you watched her walk away, your heart pounding in your chest as the moment she began to hug you replayed in your head several times. You had to admit over the course of her stay you had begun to gain feelings for the makeshift samurai. But you knew those feelings couldn't be reciprocated. After all, she would eventually have to leave some day.

And that day finally came.

Mizu had walked into the room that morning as you prepared her usual meal, a somber look on her face as she stared at the same painting she always seemed to be intrigued by.

“What's the matter?” You asked, using the ladle to pour some of the food you had made into the dish before pushing towards her direction. Her eyes traveled down to the dish before making their way back up to you.

“It's time.” Was all she responded with, her eyes carefully watched you to gauge your reaction. Your once usual happy demeanor seemed to vanish in an instance upon hearing the news, it was almost enough to make Mizu wish she hadn’t said it. But the time had to come some day, she had business to attend to and she had already vastly overstayed her welcome.

“Oh… are you sure? You don’t have any extra wounds to stitch up that you’ve been hiding from me or… or a headache that you might need to rest off?” You asked, now standing up to meet her gaze. Clearly you were looking for an excuse for her to stay longer, but you both knew that wasn't going to happen.

“I have to leave and you know I do.” She answered, no longer looking at you. You both enjoyed each other's company over the course of her stay, but Mizu was not going to break her vow just because she simply wanted to stay with you. She had become so greedy with your attention that she had almost forgotten what she had spent so many years preparing for. She had limited time before her knowledge of the location of Fowler would become obsolete, so she needed to act fast.

“I know, but why now? Can’t you stay one more day?” You asked, even though you already knew the answer. You don’t know what you were expecting. You knew her mind couldn’t be changed. If you learned anything about Mizu it was that once her mind was set on something, she wasn’t able to be stopped.

“I’m all healed so that means it's time to go.” She responded, still not looking at you.

“Just-” You began.

“Please.” She whispered, now looking down at the ground.

“What?” You asked, not really able to make out what she had said.

“Please don't make this harder than it needs to be.” She whispered, finally looking up at you. The pain in her eyes was an emotion you had not seen before. It was one you almost felt guilty for being the cause of. You should have just helped her and let her go, but instead you got attached. You both did, and it was a mistake. You knew she would have to leave eventually, you knew nothing good could come from you gaining feelings for her, you knew it would only lead to both of you getting hurt. But you couldn’t stop yourself. Your heart made its own decisions and you had fallen for her, even if you had only known her for a few months.

“Before you go.”

You gave her a quick and gentle kiss on the cheek. You wished you could show how you felt in other ways but anything else would've hurt more. Your eyes had welled up with tears throughout your conversation but you had only just then realized it. You wiped your face as you began to back away from Mizu, giving her space to leave.

As you moved away from her though she had gently grabbed your arm forcing you to stay put. She hesitated for a moment, thinking through whatever she was about to do as you stared at her. She then pulled you back towards her, very carefully planting a kiss on your lips, one that you had both been waiting to share for quite some time. It was your last chance, so clearly Mizu wanted to make it count.

You didn’t want the kiss to end because you knew once it did that meant she would finally have to leave. Much to both of your dismay though, that time came sooner than either of you would have liked. You both released from the kiss, staring at one another before Mizu backed away from you, letting go of your arm in the process. She made her way towards your door, grabbing her sword and stood in the doorway, hesitating yet again before she fully committed to leaving.

“Mizu?” You called out to her. She paused, turning her head to look at you over her shoulder.

“You know if you ever want to come back… you can.” You offered. She gave you a very rare smile before she uttered the words,

“Thank you.”

And those were the last words she said before walking off.

As she left though, it was only then had you realized that in the place of her usual white wrapping around her neck, sat the bandana you had given her several months before.

2K notes · View notes

ervotica · 3 months

Note

Inspired by the moment in ACOSF when it’s mentioned Cassian likes physical contact. A fic where reader and cassian are besties and hanging all touchy, maybe reader is braiding his hair and the mating bond snaps.

Kindly requested to be tagged if written/published.

𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐟𝐮𝐥, 𝐰𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞

pairing; cassian x fem!reader

warnings; porn with plot, basically just smut tbh but smut with FEELS (the best kind), p in v, oral (f!receiving), cassian is a sexy bitch

word count; 2.4k

a/n; dooo we want a p2 (and to find out what reader has planned...) i'm planning one in my head so if you guys are interested please let me know! @bxm-1012 enjoy!

Cassian shows love through touch- whether that be an affectionate squeeze, a kiss on the forehead or a playful shove; it's how he expresses love for the people around him.

You often take the brunt of this, being his best friend. You walk the streets of Velaris arm in arm, squeeze into one armchair that really isn't built to hold even Cassian alone, but somehow manages to fit the both of you, fall asleep on top of each other in a heap of skewed limbs after hours of partying and drinking and dancing at Rita's. You fit together like two pieces of a puzzle.

You're really not sure how you didn't see it earlier.

You're lounging in the aforementioned armchair when the bond snaps. Your legs are thrown over the arm and Cassian is settled in the centre, head to your chest as you scratch and tug at his shoulder-length hair, pulling it up into a braid. He tilts his head up, grinning at you through the dark lashes framing his eyes, and the whole world shifts on its axis.

Something stirs to life inside of you, a warmth blooming and spreading and seeping into your every pore; you can feel the way you're tethered to him, the gravitational pull between you.

You go stock still and your lips part in a silent gasp. Cassian's grin grows tenfold.

"You knew?"

"I suspected," he murmurs. He twists his body to face you. "I hoped."

"Oh," you breathe. You can't help it when your hand comes up to trace his cheekbones, the tip of your thumb skimming the bridge of his nose. His eyes fall closed and the bastard tugs on the bond so hard it emits a squeal from you, and you're pressing a palm to the centre of your chest to soothe the entirely unfamiliar feeling.

His mouth opens to break the silence but you're already moving, careening into his chest and burrowing yourself in tight. Your body sags with pure, uninhibited relief.

"You feel the same, then?" he teases.

Your eyes are glassy when you peel your face far enough to meet his stare.

"I always thought I'd have to make peace with it when you found your mate. I'd have to settle for loving you from a distance and that would be enough. As long as you're happy, I'm happy." He softens at the admission- your voice rasping and raw as you lay your feelings bare for him- hooking an arm beneath your own to drag you up his chest until you're nose to nose. "But I guess I can be selfish now, and keep you to myself," you whisper.

"Mm," he purrs, and the sound turns your core molten. "I like the sound of that."

He doesn't waste any more time before his mouth is on yours, lips slanting hungrily over your own; you part your lips in submission, granting him access to lick into your mouth, his tongue tangling with your own. He rises to tower over you until you're flattened against the curve of the chair, and plants his hands either side of your head to cage you in. His wings flare where they'd been previously tucked against his back. Your body goes involuntarily soft and pliable, heat prickling under your skin at his every touch. Instinct takes over- it's as if it's muscle memory. Giving yourself to him is as easy as breathing.

Your head swims at the feel of his body under your roaming hands, his scent that seems to shift from affection to something deeply primal and dominating. You urge him closer with a whine and a pathetic tug at his t-shirt. How has this man reduced you to a mess with no more than a kiss?

"Cass-" you gasp when his head turns and his mouth latches onto the sensitive spot beneath your ear; teeth sink into flesh and you have to bite your lip to conceal a wanton moan. "We-we should go somewhere... more private."

"Oh, don't stop on our account," comes Rhysand's amused drawl through the closed door. "We're vacating the premises as we speak."

A growl rips through Cassian and searing, unyielding need barrels to your core and pools there; it takes every ounce of willpower to not rut your hips against him and demand his clothes off that very instant.

"Sorry!" you squeak; as quickly as the word leaves your mouth, Cassian's smothering it with another eager kiss. You lose any semblance of control you were clinging to, a moan dragging its way from your chest and into his waiting mouth. A string of saliva stretches and bows between you when he lifts his head to look at your face.

"My mate," he purrs. "My beautiful mate."

Your eyes cloud when you gaze at him through half-lids, reaching down to grab the thick length of him and squeeze. His hips grind into your palm, something deep and almost terrifying loosing from the depths of his chest. It only serves to make your cunt drool.

"Wicked thing," he gasps. "Spiteful female."

You grin, wide and unabashed, before your hands grapple for purchase to tear at his clothes until his toned abdomen is revealed to you; you want to lick every inch of him.

"Desperate little creature, aren’t you?" he teases.

"Shut up!"

His eyes roll when you at last wrench his pants and underwear down his thick thighs, freeing his cock, hard and weeping and begging for your touch.

"Who’s desperate now?" Your brow quirks.

He echoes your sentiments, cadence deep and gravelly with lust. "Shut up."

Your snarking comments seem to loosen the tether he’s kept on his desire to hold you down and have his way with you, and you gasp when thick, calloused fingers curl their way around your windpipe; his fingertips are bruising against your jaw, tipping your head back to bare your soft throat for him. You go boneless in his grasp, eager to take whatever he gives you at whatever pace.

"So you do know how to behave," he muses, free hand coming between your bodies to paw at your clothes until they come away in ribbons, torn from your form and leaving you bare before him.

The first inch of him inside of you is a delicious stretch; your cunt parts and flares to make room for him. He pauses, and when he finds nothing but pure, unadulterated lust in your blown out pupils, he gives you the rest.

Slowly, agonisingly, he drags it out; moaning praises fill your ears as he grants you inch after inch of him until he's seated firmly to the hilt. His fingers are bound to leave bruises where they're curled around your waist.

You whine, fingernails digging cruelly into his sides. He’s so deep you’re sure you can feel him in your throat.

"Cassian."

"Fuck, sweet girl," he hisses. "Usually I’d take my time with you, work you up first until you’re crying. But I need you right now."

The breath is punched from your lungs as he sets a punishing pace; your spine curves and moulds to the arm of the chair when Cassian’s hands venture lower to cup the swells of your breasts. You feel his cock kick up inside of you when he catches sight of your pert nipples, hardening into buds at the exposure of the cool air and the feel of his hands brushing the sensitive beads.

"I’ll get my mouth on you later, baby."

You’d melt at the words if you weren’t already reduced to nothing more than mush from his dick alone. The thick girth of him splits you wide, nestling deep against spots you have yet to discover, pushing you further towards a precipice you’re almost terrified of— you’ve never experienced pleasure like this, to this degree. The insurmountable, unfathomable pressure builds until you’re coming with a scream, your body trembling around his own, cunt clamping down around him to suck him in further.

"There’s my girl," he coos, slowing inside of you to brush away the hair sticking to your slick face. "You’re perfect.”

You whine and cant your hips downward to rock yourself onto his cock, and the bellow that rips through him would have you flushing white-hot under any other circumstances; you’re too far gone to care, a shaking hand splaying against the ridges of his wing until he shudders under your touch. You moan at the sight.

"Now that’s just mean, baby."

You suck your bottom lip into your mouth, gaze flitting up to meet his own with a coy smile. He brushes a slow line with his knuckles against your cheekbone— a loving gesture that has your heart clenching as well as your pussy.

"I love you," he says. "I love you so much."

"I love you," you repeat his words as he smears a kiss between your pinched brows. His forehead presses to yours as his hips rut up into your own. Dewiness clings to every inch of your skin and your knuckles bleed of colour where you cling to Cassian.

He brings you to completion four more times before he reaches his own peak, and only when you're reduced to tears beneath him does he crawl the length of your body, lips grazing over the slick skin beneath him until he reaches your cunt once more.

"Cass-" you gasp; your voice comes out a broken, strangled jumble of noise and he grins wolfishly up at you before licking a broad, long stripe from your spasming hole to your clit. Your back arches and you're not sure whether it's towards or away from his touch, but he stops you short when his fingers curl around your ribcage to press you to the plush fabric of the armchair.

"Told you I'd get my mouth on you, didn't I?"

Everything is simultaneously too much and not enough, and you're torn between grinding down into his mouth and shying away. Pleasure licks white-hot up your spine and you writhe against his bruising hold on your hips when the stubble on his chin scratches against your sensitive bundle of nerves. It's red and angry, swollen from Cassian's undivided attention, and it has tears gathering at your waterline once more. Your eyes are glassy and half lidded and he reaches up to brush the tip of his thumb against your cheek, his head never coming up from between your thighs.

Your skin sheens under the soft lights of the living room, sweat beading across the crown of your skull and your temples; you whine and thrash beneath him until your muscles seize and go taut like a bowstring, and pleasure drags you under once again. You're screaming - comes the dazed realisation - and your chest heaves as Cassian works you through it, offering up sweet praises for your orgasm. He smiles as if he hasn't just given you the best sex of your life.

You're utterly limp, boneless in his firm hold when he lifts your body to cradle you to his naked chest. The bridge of his nose presses into the softness of your cheek, skin rubbing against skin where he nuzzles into you.

"That was fucking amazing," you breathe with a laugh. "We should do that again."

"Mm," he hums. "Don't tempt me."

You giggle, pressing your face closer to his; everything about him intoxicates you: his smell, the feel of him under your hands, the dominating rasp of his cadence.

"We have something else to do first."

"What?" he asks, visibly deflating when you push yourself up on wobbling legs; your knees almost give out instantly. You can feel his smirk forming, burning into your naked form.

"Don't. Say. Anything," you grit. Your fingers brush the carpet when you bend to grasp a slip of fabric, and you quirk a brow at your sheepish mate. "My clothes, Cass!"

"I'll get you some more. Anything you want," he immediately says, watching you through half-lidded eyes. The love swirling in his irises almost has you staggering.

"While I appreciate that..." You lean down to press your lips against his, only pulling back to rest your brow against his own. "That doesn't solve my problem right now."

He snorts. "I like you naked. Maybe you should never wear clothes again."

"I'm not sure anyone would approve of that but you." Your smile is devilish. "Maybe I could distract a few High Lords at the next meeting..."

His teeth bare, a low warning growl reverberating through your very bones. You laugh, light and airy, and Cassian's sure you're heaven sent even as you send red-hot fury roiling through his veins.

"I'm sorry," you trill. "That was mean." You snag his own t-shirt, still predominantly in one piece, and slip it over your head; it lays against your mid-thighs and the scent of him cloys in your nostrils. "C'mon." You beckon him up with an outstretched hand, wiggling your fingers until he stands and slips his fingers between your own. A smirk pulls at the corners of your mouth. "Um, darling?" A pointed gaze has him grinning in return, clasping his chest in faux disappointment.

"I thought you liked me naked!"

"Oh, I do," you muse. "I'd just like to not scar everybody else in this house for life."

"It'd hardly be an unpleasant sight-"

"Yes, but I'm sure everyone would prefer it if I didn't try to kill them for looking." Your smile oozes saccharine, and then you're nudging him towards where his underwear lays discarded on the carpet. He pulls the material up and over his thick thighs and then he's back by your side in an instant; you preen under his adoring touch, pushing into the hands that slip underneath your shirt to grope at your bare skin.

"C'mon," you repeat, begrudgingly denying yourself the pleasure of sinking into his arms for another round of slow sex. "We need to do this first." You press your lips to the corner of his mouth. "Mate."

912 notes · View notes

cupid-styles · 5 months

Text

only angel 2 (tattoorry/plugrry)

part two of tattorry is here!!!!! read part one here

in which y/n's parents still suck, harry can't stop thinking about his girl, and maybe there's a chance this'll all work out

word count: 8.5k

content warnings: angst (all solved in the end!), minor mentions of dieting/controlled eating, y/n has really awful parents (spoiler: there is one scene where her mom slaps her), weed mentions, a terrible date (one minor but inappropriate scene with unwanted non-sexual touching), smut (fingering, f receiving oral, dirty talk, spitting, tiniest bit of daddy kink)

masterlist | talk to me

. . .

As soon as Y/N's mother zeroes in on Harry's grasp around her daughter's waist, everything moves at a blurry pace.

In an instant, her hand is curled around Y/N's wrist, yanking her away from one of the only sources of comfort she's ever had. She gasps when she pulls her through the door and outside the bookstore, bile rising in her throat as her brain slowly pieces things together. She got caught. Applying to a job. With Harry holding her hand.

She's never going to be able to see him again.

Harry's quick to follow them outside, his mind whirring just as quickly.

"Excuse me!" he calls out as Y/N's mom drops her grasp from her, a stern expression on her face. She doesn't even look in Harry's direction but Y/N immediately blinks at him, her eyes wide with fear. "Excuse me, are you Y/N's mom?"

"Who the hell are you?" she hisses, instantly batting him away the second he takes a step forward. Y/N's chest feels tight as she clamors for words, panic rising in her throat.

"My name is Harry. I know your daughter—"

"Like hell you do." she spits, her eyes squinted and beady as she looks over Harry's appearance. It's clear on Y/N's face that she's never been this mortified before, but she can only hope it's because she got caught, not because she got caught with Harry. "I don't know what nonsense you've gotten yourself into, Y/N, but consider it done. We're going home."

The words are on the tip of Y/N's tongue — no, stop, please, I care about him, you don't understand — but the fear of her mother is too paralyzing. Again, her manicured fingers wrap tightly around Y/N's wrist and she pulls at her, making her stumble.

"Wait— Y/N, you can't seriously—"

"Enough," her mom sneers, tightening her grip, "What do you want? Money? Is that what you're after?"

"What?! No, I told you, I know Y/N—"

"Do you go to school with her? She knows better than to socialize with tattooed lowlives."

His jaw drops and his eyes dart back and forth from Y/N to her mother. Tears line her waterline and she sniffles, looking helpless and desperate — and Harry knows, he can see it right in front of his face how awful her parents are, that they're blatantly abusive and terrible people just because they have money, but for the first time, he actually feels anger bubble up in his throat. Not at her mom, but at Y/N.

"No, I don't go to school with her. Y/N, are you seriously going to let her talk to me like that?" he asks, an unusually harsh edge sharpening his voice.

Since this entire thing began, there's space for Y/N to speak — to potentially defend herself, defend Harry, or to do what she's always done and follow her mother's orders. She knows what she wants to do. Harry knows what he wants her to do.

But instead of taking any action, she flounders.

Harry can see it in her eyes — panic ravishing her body as she opens and closes her mouth like a fish. Normally, he'll tease her for that, but this time, he would do anything to hear her say something. Anything.

"Clearly you don't know one another at all. Y/N, we're going home. Now."

With a final yank, Y/N falls pliant in her mother's wishes, following her down the street to wherever her car is parked. Harry watches them walk away, sure that she'll turn around and come running back to him.

It's only when their forms become mixed in with the rest of the busy Manhattan sidewalk, little blobs he can barely make out, that he realizes she's not.

. . .

Y/N doesn't think she's ever felt so shitty in her life.

Her parents have disciplined her in the past for much smaller things — taking her car to campus, missing one of the dates they set up for her. Punishment always came in the form of the silent treatment paired with the confiscation of her car keys and the understanding that she was forbidden to leave the apartment.

This time is so much worse.

The second her mother unlocks her car and Y/N climbs in, she's on the receiving end of a piercing slap. She immediately winces and reaches up to cup her stinging cheek, tears streaming down her face from the image of Harry's hurt expression permanently seared into her memory. When she looks at the woman, she's seething.

"You're a disgrace."

Those are the only words she speaks to her the entire drive home.

When they get home, her mother is quick to lay down the ground rules: She's done with graduate school — according to her, they trusted her to know better and solely focus on her education, but they can't rely on her any longer. She'll start working at their company immediately. She'll go out on a date with Arthur Franklin, do what he wants, and marry into their family as soon as humanly possible. And lastly, she's never to be seen with "that boy" or anyone who looks like him ever again.

In two minutes, her life is drawn out for her in the most terrifying way. But she doesn't fight her. She knows it's a losing battle — one that her mother has been winning her entire life. Harry gave her a beautiful experience. He showed her what her life could have been like if she wasn't so scared.

And when she goes to bed that evening, without dinner of course (her parents gave Freya strict instructions not to make her a portion or allow her to cook anything in the kitchen), she cries for him.

She lets her tears soak into her pillow, dampening the fabric with every sob that breaks free from her chest, and desperately hopes that he doesn't hate her, even if she never sees him again.

. . .

To: Y/N, 11.19.23, 11:32 a.m.

It's been a few days.. just checking in to make sure you're doing okay.

To: Y/N, 11.20.23, 8:49 a.m.

Please just send me a text so I know you're alright.

To: Y/N, 11.22.23, 10:28 p.m.

Hey. I'm gonna wait outside your lecture hall tomorrow. I need to know you're okay. Please tell me if you don't want me to come, but I really need to see you.

To: Y/N, 11.23.23, 4:03 p.m.

Did you skip class today?

To: Y/N, 11.26.23, 1:28 a.m.

If you're avoiding me, that's fine, but this is driving me insane... please just give me a sign or something so I know you're okay. Please Y/N. You can't do this.

. . .

"I just think your father is a great businessman! He's one of the smartest men I've ever worked for and I think we could do something incredible together. Don't you think?"

Y/N gulps down another large sip of wine, flashing a tight smile to Arthur. She never drinks, but she decided that if she was getting through the night, alcohol would serve as a much-needed crutch. They're currently at some smarmy restaurant on the Upper East Side — apparently there's a waitlist of three months, but Arthur was able to just "make a call" and get them a reservation. Y/N thinks she was supposed to be impressed by that, but she could really care less.

It's been a week and a half since she saw Harry last. She never knew heartbreak could be so excruciating, but that line of thinking occurred before she met him.

In the 27 minutes since their date began — yes, Y/N's been counting — Arthur has only talked about her father. How incredible and smart he is, how he runs such a great business, how he can't wait to have a higher position in the company.

"Did you hear me?" Arthur asks, stuffing another piece of bread in his mouth.

"Yeah," she says curtly. "Sorry, did you want me to call my father so you could date him instead?"

Arthur forces out an awkward laugh. "You know, your mom said you had an unusual sense of humor... guess that's just part of your charm, huh?"

Y/N shrugs her shoulders as she picks at her pasta. She's looking straight ahead, eyes empty and zoning out when she thinks she sees a familiar head of long, unruly curls. She perks up, straightening her posture, ignoring Arthur when he assumes her change in body language is in response to whatever nonsense he's droning on about.

She wills the figure to turn around, her heart tugging — but when he does a mere moment later, she realizes it's not him, just someone with a similar haircut. Her shoulders slump, blinking as she watches the man gently guide his date to their table.

"Are you okay?"

Snapping out of her thoughts, she redirects her attention to Arthur. She swallows and nods her head.

"Yeah. Sorry, thought I saw someone I know."

He hums. "Hm, probably not. Like I said, this restaurant a three-month long waitlist. No one you know could be here."

"Right." she mutters. She drops her fork, suddenly feeling sick, and Arthur's eyes snap up at the clattering sound the metal makes against the ceramic plate.

"Be careful," he hisses, "This is a nice place, Y/N."

The sting to his tone is instantly reminiscent of her own parents' discipline. She cowers, mumbling out a half-hearted apology, and when she looks up to see his squinted eyes analyzing her every feature, anxiety is quick to spread through her chest and up her throat.

She knew it before tonight — that Arthur was essentially just an extension of her parents, but the fear and apprehension of leaving her family was too paralyzing. But in an instant, it clicked.

Sitting across from her, Arthur just looks so mean. A curl to his lips, an expression of disgust painted across his face as he studies her, his mouth open in preparation to scold her again.

She can't do this for the rest of her life.

She refuses to do this for the rest of her life.

Her heart is beating out of her chest, shaky hands grabbing the napkin folded neatly in her lap. She places it on the table, moving slowly in hopes that he won't notice, even if she knows it's impossible.

"What are you doing?" he asks tightly, eyebrows lowering as she stands from the table.

"I... I have to do something," Y/N mumbles, "I'm sorry. I have to go."

"What?" Arthur snaps, digging into his pocket to grab his wallet, throwing a few hundred dollar bills down on the table as she rushes out of the restaurant. He's quick to follow her, his stride much larger and faster than hers. He reaches out to grab her elbow and pulls her form to press against his body in the entryway. She gasps out in surprise, freezing her movements.

"Where are you going?" Arthur repeats through gritted teeth. "We're not done. We're on a date, Y/N."

She swallows and shakes her head jerkily, "I have to do something, I'm sorry, please let me go—"

"Your parents made a deal with me." he says, nostrils flaring, "You're done running. You're mine now."

Her stomach drops. A deal? She's not some kind of pawn in their game and she's not an object that can be moved around whenever they want. In an act of anger, she yanks her arm away from his grasp, taking a step back.

"I'm not yours. I'm not anybody's. Whatever deal you made with my parents is off."

She grabs the door handle and pushes it open, leaving Arthur — and whatever fucked up future they had planned for her — behind.

. . .

Harry hasn't been sleeping well.

It's from a combination of factors, but primarily, it's being on the receiving end of Y/N's silent treatment. He didn't think she would ever do this to him, but maybe he was too naive, looking at their relationship through rose-colored lenses and assuming she'd be strong enough to reject her parents in favor of him.

How stupid.

He sighs and glances at the clock on the wall of his office. When he was seeing Y/N, he never stayed at the shop later than 6 or 7, usually because she wanted to get home before her parents started to wonder. These days, he stays behind until midnight, trying to occupy himself with work so he doesn't have to go home and think about her.

And at first, he thinks he's hallucinating. Who would be knocking on the door to the shop at 9:30, especially with the clear and apparent closed sign? But then the fists get louder, and he wonders if it's someone drunk or high, looking to get a tattoo. (That certainly wouldn't be happening.)

Finally, he hears it — the faintest of familiar voices calling out his name, and he realizes he may not be imagining it.

He forces himself out, taking large footsteps to the front, his heart beating rapidly when he sees the helpless girl pounding on the door. Quickly, he unlocks it through furrowed brows, immediately letting her in when he sees the distress on her face.

"What's wrong?" he asks immediately, pulling Y/N inside. "What happened?"

Dried tears leave marks down the apples of her cheeks, her mascara clumpy and stained around her eyes. She sniffles and shakes her head. "I'm so sorry, Harry."

"Y/N, what's going on?" he repeats before locking the door back up. Carefully, he places a hand to the small of her back and guides her to the back, where his office is. He wordlessly encourages her to sit down on the blue velvet couch, grabbing a bottle of water from the mini fridge and handing it to her.

"They're awful," she stammers, "My parents... I'm so sorry, Harry."

"Just tell me what happened," Harry murmurs, carefully rubbing the area between her shoulder blades, "Why are you crying? Did they do something? Are you hurt?"

She shrugs, eyes falling to her lap. "Everything's been terrible." she whispers. "They had me go on a date with someone they want me to marry — when I wanted to leave, he told me that my parents made a deal with him. That I'm his now."

"A deal?" Harry repeats, anger quickly bubbling under his skin, "What does that fucking mean?"

"I don't know. I didn't know about it until tonight."

"Did he do anything to you?" he asks, doing a quick once-over of her appearance. She doesn't look hurt, but she does look beautiful. It makes jealousy rise from the pit of his stomach, knowing she got dressed up for somebody else.

"No. He was really mean, but," she sniffles, shrugging again, "I don't know. He grabbed me."

"Where?" Harry growls. "Where did he grab you?"

Her eyes widen, "J-just my arm. When I was trying to leave, he, um, grabbed my elbow and pulled me back against him."

"Let me see."

Y/N wants to tell him that she's fine, immediately trying to downplay the act, but on the cab ride over, she had time to process how gross it made her feel. That he felt it was appropriate to touch her in that way just because she didn't want to be there — so she allows him to cautiously push up the sleeve of her sweater, analyzing the slightly reddened skin where his hand had been.

"You're not seeing him again," he mutters, carefully putting her arm down. He reaches over into his desk drawer and grabs a small container of Neosporin, dabbing a bit on the mark and rubbing it in with gentle fingertips. "I don't care if your parents want you to marry him. You will not be with someone who hurts you, Y/N."

"I know," she whispers, "I told him that I wasn't his. That whatever deal they had is off."

Harry's eyes widen. "You did?"

"Yes." she nods sullenly, "I realized that... well, I wanted to leave because I wanted to come see you. I don't want them to control me anymore. I want my own life."

"That's... that's huge, Y/N," Harry murmurs, resisting the urge to surge forward and wrap his arms around her, "What are you gonna do?"

She shrugs. "I haven't gotten that far yet, I guess. But the first step was seeing you and apologizing for that day with my mom."

"It hurt," he admits quietly. "Seeing you walk away... but I guess I didn't fully understand just how bad it was."

"I never wanted to walk away. They just scare me so much. She... she slapped me when we got in the car."

"Dovie," Harry breathes out, the pet name slipping from his mouth, "That's unacceptable, you know that, right? They're abusive."

"I do. I know they're bad." she pauses, swallowing harshly. "I don't want to go back there tonight."

Harry shakes his head. "You're never going back there at all."

. . .

Harry's apartment is cozy.

Y/N should have assumed as much, being that his mere presence essentially feels like a warm hug. But when he takes her back to his place and he hesitantly locks the door, murmuring out an apology about how messy things are, she can't but smile gently at all the very Harry decor touches: A record player next to a large collection of his favorite albums, framed pictures and polaroids tacked up onto his fridge of his friends, family, and loved ones, and just about ten cozy throw blankets and pillows strewn across his couch.

He apologizes for how small it is and Y/N scoffs — she couldn't care less about the size of his place, instead being completely enamored by the fact that it's his.

She's analyzing the refrigerator door, eyes glued to a photo strip of him and his sister when she feels a gentle hand at her hip, giving it a squeeze.

"Do you wanna change, dove?" Harry asks quietly, his breath ghosting over the back of her neck.

She nods, pinching at the fabric of her dress. Suddenly, her tights feel too restrictive and her feet ache from the heels her mother forced her into hours earlier.

"I don't have any clothes, though."

He chuckles lightly. "I can give you some, silly."

"Are you sure?" Y/N asks, turning to look at him. Her lips part nervously when she sees how close he is to her. "You're already doing so much for me tonight."

"What, would you prefer to waltz around naked, then?"

Her signature blush appears in seconds and it makes a lopsided grin appear nearly instantly on Harry's face. He can tell that she's about to whine his name out in her typical chagrined way and he laughs.

"Kidding, princess," he mumbles, "But I wouldn't mind if you wanted to."

"You're too much." Y/N grumbles, though the small smile on her lips says differently. She couldn't deny how much she missed Harry over the past two weeks — not only the place he holds in her life, but from a physical, intimate standpoint, too.

"C'mon, I'll get you some sweats."

She follows him to his bedroom, her stomach prickling with nerves as he guides her to the bed, instructing her to take a seat. He traipses over to his dresser and pulls out a pair of gray sweatpants and a baggy tee-shirt. It says hot and heavy on the back, and she remembers she blushed just from reading it the first time she saw him wear it.

He gives her a moment of privacy to change, shutting the bedroom door quietly. With a deep breath, she kicks her heels off, peels her tights down her legs, and pulls her dress up and over her body. It's a relief to finally change into cozy clothes that smell like Harry, and she can't believe she's really here — when they were seeing each other before, she'd dreamt of being able to go over to his house and see what it looked like. She was always just too scared that her parents would find her, or even call the cops when she didn't come home early enough.

Now, she still cares, but it feels like Harry's there to protect her — and that makes it seem a little less scary.

There's a knock at the door, pulling her from her thoughts. With her old clothes folded up neatly, she opens it, revealing a sleepy looking Harry.

"All changed?"

She nods, opening the door a little wider to reveal her appearance. His jaw drops and a single "fuck" leaves his lips.

Y/N's eyes widen, worried that she's done something wrong. Quickly, he flounders, stammering like she normally does.

"Are you alright?" she asks, a look of concern covering her face. He nods, swallowing harshly.

"Um. Yeah, sorry." he coughs into his hand, "Fuck, this is embarrassing— you just— um, you look really fucking hot in my clothes."

She raises her eyebrows, glancing down at the outfit. His sweatpants pool at her ankles and the shirt, which is oversized on his torso, goes down to the middle of her thighs. She supposes he may be able to see her breasts through the white fabric of the tee, but otherwise, she doesn't understand why it's such an attractive sight to him.

"Shit, I need to— I'm sorry, Y/N, this definitely isn't what you need tonight—" he's inching backwards and towards the bathroom on the side of the hallway when she sees it — a very large and apparent erection straining through his black jeans.

"Oh," she mumbles, "Do you...? We can, like, do stuff if you... if you wanted..."

"No!" he groans, turning to face the wall and pressing his forehead against it, "Just— no, dovie, thank you for the offer but I just feel like I'd be taking advantage of you after such a long night, yeah? So lemme just— I'm gonna take care of this in the bathroom and you can get comfy in the bed, okay?"

He's gone in a flash, the bathroom door locked before she even has a chance to reply. She bites her lip, hoping he's not secretly annoyed at her for asking if he wanted to do something sexual. She's too tired to overthink it though, so she turns on her heel, walks back into his room, and climbs under the blankets.

She's nearly asleep when he returns, soft footsteps padding across the length of the wood floors. She hears a quiet whisper of her name and she peeks an eye open to see Harry standing over her.

"'m gonna sleep outside on the couch, but let me know if you need anything, alright?"

She swallows, reaching out to grab his hand in a sleepy haze. His eyebrows raise as she bites her lip. "Can you just... stay for a minute? Until I fall back asleep?"

And truly, Harry couldn't deny her even if he wanted to.

So he nods his head and, to his surprise, she moves over so he has room to crawl in. He does, at first maintaining a sliver of distance between them, until she looks up at him, her hair mussed from laying back against his pillows, an expectant and wide-eyed look on her face.

"Need me to hold you, dovie?"

Y/N nods, immediately clinging to his body like a magnet. He smiles gently and wraps his arms around her form, pulling her onto her side and into his chest, smoothing her hair down as he presses an occasional kiss to her forehead. They've cuddled at the shop a few times, but nothing like this — not an all-consuming, full body experience that has Harry feeling like he's in heaven. She smells so good, her skin is so warm, and she's wrapped up in his clothes — he doesn't think he could ask for anything more in this moment.

Just as he thinks she's fallen asleep, he hears a soft voice muffled into his sweatshirt. He glances down, wondering if she's just talking in her sleep. Instead, he's met with tired, sweet eyes.

"What was that?" he whispers, swiping his knuckle lightly over her cheek.

"Thank you," she mumbles. "For today."

"I would do anything for you, princess. Hope you know that."

She yawns with a shake of her head. "That's a silly thing to promise."

. . .

When Y/N wakes up the next morning, she's under the weight of a long haired man that, for the past two weeks, only existed in her dreams.

It's jarring for him to actually exist in her reality now, but even more so that she stayed over at his place and slept in the same bed as him.

Less than 24 hours away from her parents and she's already crossed off another first off her list.

But the blissful moment of realization is quickly stripped away when the events of last night come flooding back to her — the date with Arthur, his rough nature, the supposed deal between him and her parents. Her parents who were an entirely different issue on their own — she feels a dull throb aching behind her temples just as the thought of how they're planning to lure her back, worry seeping into her bones when she realizes she hasn't checked her phone since they left the tattoo shop last night.

Harry must feel her panicked thoughts rising because he blinks his eyes open to see a prominent furrow between her eyebrows. Without her realizing it, he moves carefully, raising his thumb to smooth it away.

"What're you stressing about so early in the morning?" he rasps out. She swallows, moving onto her side to face him.

"They've probably issued out a search party by now."

"Mm, can't do that. You're not considered a missing person until it's been 48 hours."

His joke clearly doesn't land when Y/N squints her eyes at him. Instead, he quickly wraps his arm around her shoulders to pull her closer.

"It's gonna be okay, Y/N. I promised you would never go back there and I meant it," he explains lowly, pressing a light kiss to the shell of her ear. "What if you just text them and tell them that you're done? You're over 18, there's no reason why they can keep doing this."

Her eyes close as she relaxes into his chest, enjoying the sensation of his vibrating chest from his deep voice.

"I'm too scared to look at my phone." she admits quietly. "I can't imagine the mean things they've written to me."

"Do you want me to look?" Harry asks softly, using his hand to tilt her head up to look at him.

She shrugs. "If you do, can you maybe not tell me what they say? Just tell me the important stuff?"

"Course."

She nods and sits up, reaching onto his night stand for her phone. With a deep breath, she hands it to him before rolling over onto her other side to face the wall.

He runs his fingers up and down her spine as he goes through her missed texts. There's one or two from that prick Arthur, but they're nothing important — just an ask that she calls him when she's feeling better (he resists the urge to block his number altogether). But otherwise... well, he's admittedly shocked at what he finds.

"Is it bad?" she asks, wedging her thumbnail between her teeth.

"Um..." Harry presses his lips into a thin line, rolling them into his mouth. "You didn't block their numbers or anything, right?"

"No."

"Dove... I'm not quite sure how to tell you this, but... there's nothing."

She flips onto her back, a stunned expression painting her face. "What?"

"They didn't text or call, sweetheart. I'm... I don't know if that's a good or bad thing, but... you just had some missed texts from that guy from last night."

"How is that possible?" she asks when he hands her phone to her, "I— do you think they haven't noticed?"

"I'm not sure. You said they've been on you more often lately, I would assume that they'd be waiting up for you last night, right?"

She shrugs, "Yeah. Probably."

"On the other hand, though, it could mean that... well, maybe you're home free, dovie," Harry says, treading carefully in case he accidentally upsets her, "We can take the day to relax. I don't have to go into work today and we can figure out your next steps, if you'd like."

With a heavy sigh, she nods her head and sits up a little straighter, running her hand through her messy bedhead. "Do you mind if I take a shower?"

"Sure," Harry mumbles, pressing a quick kiss to her forehead before allowing his feet to touch the chilly wood floor of his bedroom. "I'll get you set up in the bathroom."

She doesn't reply to that so Harry decides to leave her be, instead deciding to show his affection in an act of service. He starts by running the shower on the perfect temperature — not too hot but not too cool either, just so steam begins to steadily fill the room — and picks out his plushiest towels for when she's done. He finishes by lighting his favorite candle for her, moseying back out to his bedroom to fetch her a new pair of sweats.

She's on her feet when he returns, scrolling on her phone with her lips pressed into a straight line. Silently, he grabs another pair of his sweatpants and a tee-shirt and reaches out for her hand; a wordless request to follow him.

She does, pliantly, but not before peering up at him with eyes that tell him everything: She's sad. It doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure that out.

"Let me know if you need anything, okay?" Harry murmurs, folding her new clothes on the covered toilet seat. "You're obviously free to use whatever you want in there."

Swallowing harshly, she begins to tug at the hem of her borrowed tee-shirt before he has the chance to scamper out of the room. His eyes widen — he feels like a dick, she probably wants to be alone and now he's standing her ogling at her breasts like an idiot — but she simply stares at him with blank eyes.

"Can you... distract me?" she asks softly, her torso now bare, "It's— it's just been too much and I miss you. A lot."

Harry breathes in sharply. "I don't know if that's a good idea, dovie... it's been an emotional time for you."

"I know that," she mumbles, biting her bottom lip. "I just— I wanna feel normal again, Harry. Like how things were before. When we could just kiss and hang out and I didn't feel like I'm gonna burst into flames at any point."

"I know," Harry nods understandingly and bumps his hip against the sink. "But things are different now, princess. And I don't want to do something that you'll regret later because you were feeling down."

She shakes her head quickly, taking a step towards him. The steam from the shower has effectively warmed the bathroom, making beads of sweat pearl at his hairline. Well, that and the topless girl in front of him.

"I would never regret anything we do," she says, "Even when I tried to stay away from you, I didn't regret a single moment."

"Really?"

"Of course not," she replies, keeping her gaze set on him, "Sometimes, I, um... I even played with myself. Thinking of you."

"Jesus Christ."

He lets out a frustrated groan and closes the bathroom door, tugging his own tee-shirt up and over his body to reveal his heavily inked chest and arms. In a minute, his hands are on her, squeezing her sides as he presses her back against the wall.

"Tell me more," he mutters, leaning down and sponging kisses along her jawline and down to her neck. "What did you do? What did you think about?"

The sudden physicality makes it hard for her to breathe, let alone talk, but she tries to anyway, knowing that he'll tease her into oblivion if she doesn't at least make an attempt. With his fingers curling into the waistband of the sweatpants she wears, she tries to remember the nights when all she could think about was him.

"Thought about— oh—" her sentence is interrupted when he nips at the crook of her neck, his fingers dipping beneath her panties to lightly roll over her clit. She leans her head back but, as expected, he attempts to keep her on task, using his other hand to gently squeeze the sides of her neck. "T-thought about you touching me... l-like this."

"Like what?"

"This," she repeats through a gasp when he starts to apply a bit more pressure to her clit, pressing small circles into the nerves.

"Don't know what that means, dove. Gotta spell it out for me. Where was I touching you?"

Y/N moans when one of his fingers dips into her pulsating hole, just enough to make her clench, her knees weakening. He squeezes her neck again, this time a bit tighter, and her eyes roll back.

"Where was I touching you, Y/N?"

"D-down there." she says breathily.

"Down where?"

She knows there's no way she's getting out of this, and the rhythmic pulsing of her clit is only a reminder of the power he holds over her in this moment. She whimpers, swallowing harshly when he removes his finger, keeping the tip inside.

"Tell me," he encourages lowly, licking over the sensitive part of her neck he found a few weeks back. "Don't you wanna be my dirty girl again?"

"Y-you were touching my pussy." she mumbles, her cheeks burning. She can feel his smirk, the way his lips curl against her skin. As promised, he dips his finger back in, curling it up against the spot that has her fluttering her eyes closed, and resumes the soft circles into her clit.

"I was touching your pussy? That's a naughty thing for a sweet girl like you to imagine," he lowers, placing open-mouthed kisses down her naked chest. "And what were you doing while you thought of that, hm?"

Y/N gasps wetly as he pulses his finger steadily, a groan falling from his own lips when he feels her arousal gush out around his hand. Based on how long it took her to refer to her own anatomy, Harry doesn't have high expectations for her explaining how she touched herself, so it's a given that he'll help push her along.

"Did you grind your little clit on your hand?" he asks as he lowers to his knees, tugging the sweatpants down her legs and pressing kisses to her exposed stomach. "Or did you hump one of those cute stuffed animals you have on your bed?"

She pants heavily at that, a soundless lightbulb illuminating above his head. Bingo.

"Don't think I didn't notice those little stuffies in your bedroom from when you'd send me pretty pictures of yourself," he murmurs into her hips, nipping at the stretch marks on her stomach, "Is that what you would do when you thought of me? Hump your cute bunny, moaning, wishing I was there to take care of you?"

She nods her head, quickly and haphazardly. He pushes his lips over her mound, leaving open-mouthed kisses in his wake as he continues his journey down to her pussy. She's wet, perhaps even more so than he's ever seen her before, her juices leaking from where his finger is buried deep inside down to his wrist.

"Please," she whimpers from above, making him glance up at her, "Just— just want you. Please."

"You have me, dovie." he replies easily, pushing a second finger in and nestling it close to the first.

"N-no. Want you. All of you."

He swallows and sits back on his heels. She has no idea how badly he wants that, and if it were anyone else in the world, he'd probably say yes. But it's her — his sweet, innocent girl that showed up at his tattoo shop one day and hasn't left his brain for one second since — and he knows that right now isn't the time for them.

"I'll give you that as soon as things get better," he murmurs, keeping his gaze set on her. "But you deserve so much more than to be fucked for the first time against a bathroom wall. Wanna take you out, make it romantic."

She blinks, taking a moment to process his polite rejection, nevertheless slowly nodding her head. He leans forward and presses another light kiss to her mound, just below her stomach.

"Y'wanna know something, though?"

Again, she nods, and he begins to slowly curl his fingers up against her g-spot once more.

"I love the fact that I've corrupted you," he mutters, kissing down to her hood, right where her clit is peeking out. He licks just above there and she moans, pushing her hips out slightly as a wordless request to keep moving down. "Remember when you were that polite girl coming in with her friend? And now you're at my place, begging for my cock, asking me to take your virginity."

"Uh-huh," she mewls as his lips wrap around her clit, sucking perfectly in time with his thrusting fingers.

He pauses his movements for a moment, just enough for a demand: "Say it," he says, immediately returning to the assault on her most sensitive parts.

"Y-you corrupted me," she breathes, punctuating the sentiment with a whimper when he harshens his sucking, "I'm yours— oh, I'm yours, daddy—"

"That's right." he uses his other hand to part her pussy lips, spitting squarely on her clit, even if she doesn't need any more lubrication. He switches to kitten licking the bundle of nerves, feeling her hole beginning to clench violently around his fingers. "Cum for me like a good girl. Missed feeling your little pussy squeeze me like this."

That's all it takes for her to cum, her body feeling like it's exploding into a million stars as his tongue and fingers work her through the intense pleasure. He's groaning from the taste of her arousal that drools out from her pussy, the feeling of haphazard pulsations the most beautiful thing he's ever seen. He loves watching her — her head ducked back slightly, her eyes squeezed closed, and the prettiest whimpers falling from plushy lips.

"S-sensitive," she finally stutters out and Harry nods, gently pulling his fingers out. They immediately find their way into his mouth as he rises back up to his feet. When he's finished licking them clean, he grabs her jaw.

"Open."

She does. Her lips part, opening her mouth, her pink tongue laying dormant inside. With a smirk, his eyes flicker up to hers before he spits into her mouth.

It takes her by surprise, her body jolting slightly, but her sensitive pussy twitches from the act.

"Swallow."

Slowly, she closes her mouth, swallowing the combination of his spit with her arousal. A moment later, she opens it again to show him there's nothing left.

"Fuck," he mutters. "Fuck, you're incredible."

She smiles gently, letting out a breath she didn't know she'd been holding. "Can we shower now?"

Harry chuckles and nods, guiding her into the steaming stream of water.

. . .

"Okay, princess. Repeat the plan back to me."

Y/N is doing her best to fight off a panic attack as she sits in the passenger's seat of Harry's car. Swallowing harshly, she takes a deep breath and closes her eyes as she restates the steps they'd decided on last night.

"We're gonna go up to their apartment and go straight to my bedroom. If they're there, I'm going to ignore them and let you do the talking. I won't listen to anything rude they say to me."

"That's right. What do we do when we're in your room?"

"We're gonna pack up my things, but only the necessities. Most things can be repurchased."

"Exactly. We're going for important things that you don't wanna leave behind."

She nods, watching the city streets slowly progress to the familiar high-end stores and supermarkets she grew up around. Suddenly, the blocks were far more sanitary and well taken care of. It made her stomach flutter in the worst way, being back here after spending the past few days at Harry's house in her newly preferred neighborhood.

In a stroke of luck, Harry had a friend that was looking for a roommate. Apparently, they'd worked together as tattoo apprentices a few years back and they still kept in touch. Her name was Lucy, and Harry had even set up a coffee date between the three of them so they could sit down before Y/N made any big decisions. She had been really nervous about it, but Lucy turned out to be incredibly nice and understanding.

Y/N explained her situation to her, only to receive an abundance of kindness in return — she said that she would love to have her move in with her, that she was a pretty quiet person to live with and worked most days while Y/N would be in school. (She missed around two weeks of classes because of her parents, but Harry convinced her to meet with her professors and tell them she had a family emergency. Thankfully, they were fine with it, and with a little extra studying and hunkering down, she thinks she can still end the semester with low Bs.)

With her living situation figured out and Y/N back to being a full-time student, the only thing left to address was her parents. In an ideal world, she would never have to deal with them again, but she knows that's unrealistic. They still haven't reached out to her despite it being a full week since she went back to Harry.

And while she wants to run away and abandon her former life, Harry convinced her that she had things she'd regret leaving behind. Not to mention, since starting grad school, she started saving money from her parents in the event that she somehow received an opportunity to get away from them. It wasn't enough to sustain her forever, but it would be good enough for a few months of bills and rent until she gets a job.

When Harry parks in the lot under her parents' apartment building, she feels nauseous. She ignores the sleek black Range Rover that's still parked in her assigned spot — she has no desire to take it, especially because it was just another way for her parents to pretend they were giving her freedom when they were just controlling her even more.

Wordlessly, they get in the elevator. Y/N's nibbling on her bottom lip to the point of near-blood draw while Harry thumbs over her knuckles, pressing a light kiss to her palm when the elevator dings at their arrival.

Standing outside of their apartment door, Y/N rolls her shoulders back to stand up straighter. She can feel Harry's presence close behind her and it brings her comfort, knowing that she's not going in this alone. He murmurs out a near-whisper of encouragement ("you can do this") before she punches in the door code. She's surprised when it works — she'd been half expecting them to change the codes so she couldn't come back.

Hesitantly and with intertwined fingers, Y/N leads them to her bedroom. The apartment is silent, which typically means her parents are gone, but her anxiety is too overwhelming for her to trust it.

Which she supposes is for good reason, because when she opens the door to her room, her mother is sitting on her bed.

"Y/N," she says, eyes roaming inquisitively from her daughter to the man she's holding hands with. "I saw you coming up on the security cameras."

A bead of panic drips down her spine. Harry squeezes her hand and steps forward, clearly prepared to reply, when Y/N stops him.

"Why are you here?" Y/N asks. Harry looks at her with a confused expression but he takes a step back, ready to defend her if needed. "You haven't contacted me for a week."

"Well, this is my property, Y/N. You're trespassing."

"Okay." she sighs, looking up at Harry. "Just give us a minute then, we just want to grab some of my stuff and we'll be gone."

"And this is who you'll be living with?" her mom quirks an eyebrow. "This... person from the bookstore that day?"

"He tried talking to you. You had no interest."

"Well I would think you would defend your boyfriend better than that. How was I supposed to know?"

Y/N grits her teeth and shakes her head, "Again, mother, just give us a minute. I'm not taking any furniture or anything valuable, just a few keepsakes."

"You're abandoning this family, I hope you know that," her mother spits as Y/N begins to rustle through her desk, grabbing some pictures and notebooks. Silently, she hands them to Harry, who carefully slips everything in the tote bag around his shoulder. "Your father is so disappointed. So are the Franklins! I mean, you left Arthur alone like that on your first date! And for what, a lifetime of struggling for money?"

"Not everything is about money!" Y/N exclaims, turning around. Harry's eyebrows shoot up — he's never seen her get angry before. "Besides that, you promised me off to Arthur like I'm some kind of object! Who does that?!"

"It was for the better of the company and the family, Y/N, don't be dramatic—"

"Well I didn't want that! I never did!" she shouts, "I want to live my own life! With my boyfriend! Who, by the way, I'm not living with! He's just helping me get on my feet, but even if I was moving in with him, it wouldn't matter, because it's not your life! You don't get to make my decisions anymore!"

Her mother scoffs and Y/N rolls her eyes. When she finds her envelope of money deep at the bottom of her dresser, she grabs a few pairs of pants and sweaters, sticking it between the layers of fabric to pass off to Harry. He tucks them all away.

"You know you're cut off after this, right?" she asks, crossing her arms over her chest. "This is it. You walk out that door, you're never allowed back. Don't ask us for a single cent."

Bristled, Y/N lets out a humorless chuckle as she heads for the door, Harry right behind her. They cross the length of the apartment and she slams the down button to the elevator, turning around to look at her mother for the last time.

"I never want to come back, mother. Goodbye."

The click of her mother's heels are the last thing she hears as they enter the elevator and ride down to the parking lot.

. . .

When they get into Harry's car, he realizes it's been a solid five minutes since Y/N has said anything.

He doesn't want to pressure her — he knows that what just happened was a lot, and when he was reading articles like how to help your partner leave an abusive family last night, they all instructed him to go at her pace. So, that's what he decides to do.

The interior of the car is silent as they drive out of the lot and away from her parents, the boring, dull building just a reflection in the rearview mirror. He doesn't want to turn the radio on and make it seem like he doesn't care, but he also doesn't want to say something stupid and upset her further.

It's only when he hears a sound resembling a giggle that he looks over at Y/N, a concerned furrow in his brow.

But she is laughing.

The most beautiful grin is covering her face as she lets out loud laughter, tears streaming down her cheeks. She shakes her head, looking at Harry, whose confused expression only makes her laugh even harder.

"Dovie, are you alright?" he asks, pulling the car over in preparation for a full meltdown.

"I—" her words are cut off by another peel of laughter and she takes another moment to pull herself together, "Oh my god— I would've done that years ago if I knew it'd be that easy!"

This time, Harry chuckles, a wave of relief washing over him.

"I'm so proud of you," he says, leaning over to pull her hands into his lap. "You stood up for yourself. You left. I couldn't be happier for you."

"Thank you," she bubbles, her cheeks flushed from her laughter, "I'm so happy. Thank you so much, Harry... I'm just so thankful for you."

He shakes his head, "I'll do anything for you, princess."

Y/N leans over to kiss him lightly, a smile continuing to curl at the edges of her lips. "I love you, you know."

Harry grins.

"Yeah, I love you, too."

. . .

The bell above the front door of St. Mark's Social Club rings as Y/N steps inside. She smiles politely at Jo, the kind receptionist that sits at the front desk (the same one that checked Mai in a few months ago). She's still getting comfortable with all the different employees and characters that come in and out of Harry's tattoo shop, but her socialization skills have definitely improved since moving out.

She walked over as soon as she got out of class. Lately, she's been staying on campus a bit later to do some studying for finals, but today's Friday. Over the past few weeks as Y/N's adjusted to her new life of living on her own and officially dating Harry, they've designated Friday nights as theirs, whether it mean curling up on the couch with a pizza or heading out to a bar with some of Harry's employees. (More often than not, it's the former — despite Harry being the more social of the two, he's always eager to get his hands on her after a day of being away from one another.)

He's wrapping up his last client of the day when Y/N peeks into his station, waving with a small smile. Harry's stoic and focused expression instantly transforms into one of excitement.

"Hey dove," he greets as he tears off a clear piece of plastic to cover his client's new tattoo. (Y/N's since learned that it's called Saniderm, and it's apparently some way of helping fresh tattoos heal faster.) "You can put your stuff down in my office, I'll be there in a sec."

She nods and bounces off to the small room at the end of the hallway. Instantly, she lays back against the velvet couch in the corner, placing her backpack on the floor. As promised, Harry walks in a few minutes later, pulling off his plastic gloves and tossing them in the garbage can.

"How was your day?" he asks, leaning down to peck her lips. She hums, hands in her lap as he smiles down at her.

"Good. Class was boring, I was excited to come see you."

"Oh yeah?" he smirks, "You better have been paying attention and not letting your mind wander with those dirty thoughts of yours."

Y/N rolls her eyes. "Harry, you're the one that tries to have phone sex, like, every night."

"We'll get there one day, I think."

She laughs and shakes her head, crossing her legs. "What are you in the mood to eat for dinner tonight?"

"Mm, not sure," he replies, "I forgot, I have one deal to do before we head out for the day. 's why I came around to begin with. I hope that's alright."

She nods her head, "Yeah, that's fine."

"Thanks, princess," he murmurs, leaning forward to press a light kiss to her nose. "Who'd have thought, three months ago yo@u'd be dating the hot tattoo artist that sells weed on the side?"

"You're silly," she mumbles with a giggle, "But... to be honest, I never thought this is what my life would look like three months ago."

"I'm sure. Are you happy with it, though?"

Y/N has to bite her lip from grinning too hard.

"I don't think I could be any happier, Harry."

She squeals when he pushes her back against the length of the sofa to press kisses all over her face.

. . .

TAGS:

I know I asked people forever ago if they wanted to be tagged for my new writing and I'm literally just doing it now grjetkjre but please feel free to message me if that's changed ! (if your name is in italics it didn't work!)

@tenaciousperfectionunknown @cookielovesbook-akie @cali-888 @harrysolaf @gnomerry @vamprry @onllyyaangelbyhs @harrystylessslut @lovelylly @straightontilmornin @rizosrizo26 @redlightalexa @velvetballaspark @uniquesexything @canyonmoondreams @ghoststyles @whoreonmondays @esnyhoney @imnevergonnabloganything @honeyharlows @gem1712 @harryscherri @forgetdelaney

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abandoned-anemoia · 3 months

Text

Nightmares

☯ Pairing: Choi Seungcheol x Fem!reader ☯ Genre: smut, a little fluff ☯ Word count: 2.4k ☯ Summary: When your reoccurring nightmare gets the best of you, you search for comfort in Seungcheol's presence. ☯ Warnings: nightmares, piv, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), multiple positions, oral (f! receiving), restraint, pet names (princess, sweetheart, baby. slut) ☯ A/N: Please Let me know if I need to add any warnings! ☯Disclaimer: None of my work represents any of the idols included in any way. This is merely fictional and all based on my opinion as a joke! I have nothing against any of these idols and love them all dearly.

Please do not copy, translate, or post as your own!

Keep running. Keep pushing forward. That's all you could tell yourself as you sprint through the empty streets of a dead end town. You're not sure what exactly you're running from, but the fear that flows through you doesn't allow you to stop moving.

Glancing behind you, you see a dark figure speeding toward you. You know that if it catches you, that is the end. You try to scream but no sound escapes your body. No matter how hard you try to scream for help, for anyone to save you, your voice can't be heard.

It's closer now. You can hear the wispy hissing and unbearable screeching getting louder. The panic rises in your chest as you force yourself to keep running. It's going to get you. To kill you. You can do nothing to stop it.

It's cold breath is on your neck in mere seconds. Then it's in front of you, stopping you in your tracks. Dark sockets are all that exist where its eyes are meant to be. It's staring at you. Waiting for you to make your next move.

Your eyes snap open, body jolting up into a seated position. Hands clenching the sheets at your sides as cold sweat rolls down your face, chest rising and falling in rapid succession as you try to catch your breath. The time on the clock reads 1:06 A.M.

It's the same nightmare, every time. The dark figure never actually gets you. You just wake up when you know it's about to. Almost as if your body knows when to wake you up.

You can't go back to sleep right now, the nightmare will just start over. Knowing this, you sigh, sliding out of the bed. Not bothering to change clothes, you grab a jacket from the chair sitting in front of your small desk and leave your bedroom.

Slipping on your shoes that are tucked next to the front door of your apartment, you grab your keys and head out. Maybe a walk will clear your head. Some fresh air might help calm you down enough to sleep again.

Your brain didn't have a destination planned but your body did. The walk to his place feels familiar, almost as if your body is on autopilot—searching for comfort in the one person who never fails to provide it.

That's how you end up in front of his apartment door, staring at the white panels before knocking on the door. You feel guilty, knowing he will be asleep this late at night and you'll be waking him up.

Before the guilt can make you head back to your own apartment, the door opens to reveal a very dazed Seungcheol, clad in a black tee and gray sweats. He blinks repeatedly, trying to wake himself up and focus his eyes, squinting at your figure for a moment before he realizes who you are.

As he takes in your disheveled state, he ushers you inside, quickly pulling you into his arms. One hand rests on the back of your neck while the other presses against your back, pushing you flush against him. His voice is gentle when he speaks, hand rubbing your back soothingly, "What's wrong, Princess?"

Your hands grip his shirt at his sides. Taking a deep breath in, you let his scent fill your senses. The dull smell of birch wood with a rosy undertone—that perfect mix of floral and musk. His scent and the added warmth of his body against yours serves to calm your nerves enough to answer, "Nightmare."

Seungcheol hums in response, "Don't worry. I've got you."

He plants a kiss on the top of your head, his hands coming to squeeze your biceps before gently pushing you away from his body, "Come on. Let's get to bed."

Seungcheol pulls your jacket down your arms, hanging it next to his door while you slip your shoes off. You quietly allow him to guide you through his apartment and to his bedroom.

Still slightly on edge, afraid the nightmare will resurface, you sit on his bed as he moves to the other side. He lifts the covers, crawling underneath them, hand reaching over to you to run his fingers across your back, "Lie down. I promise I won't let anything get you."

Seungcheol knows about your recurring nightmare. You'd told him about it one night when you woke up gasping for air and scared him shitless. He had been nothing but understanding then and he is nothing but understanding in this moment—when you've shown up at his door in the middle of the night.

Giving in, you slip under the covers next to him, resting your head on the pillow. You both stay silent, not touching but simply staring at one another.

It's you who breaks the silence, guilt overcoming you once again, "I can't sleep."

Seungcheol responds with a tight-lipped smile, "Anything I can do to help?"

You shrug, not knowing what would get the image that is burned into the back of your eyelids to go away. His eyes are droopy and filled with sleep, but you know he won't fall asleep while you're still awake.

He shuffles closer to you, one arm resting under his head, the other crossed over his body. Your faces are so close now that you can feel every breath he takes, his nose almost touching yours. His hand comes up to run along your cheek as he moves closer, lips ghosting over your own.

You take the chance to close that final gap between the two of you, lips softly pressing against his. The hand that was once on your cheek, slowly moves down to your hip, pushing you onto your back as your lips move together.

Seungcheol's legs encase your body under his own when he moves to hover over you, his elbow resting next to your head to hold himself up. His tongue runs across your bottom lip as his hand sneaks under your shirt to rest on your bare hip. The kiss steals your breath, his lips aggressively moving against yours.

You grab the bottom of his shirt and tug at the fabric. His lips part from yours for a moment as he pulls the shirt over his head, carelessly tossing it to the floor before diving back in to kiss you again. Hands running under your shirt as the kiss heats up, he barely lets your lips part when you lift your body for him to slip your shirt off.

He nestles himself between your legs, his hips pressing against yours. His lips find their way to your neck, slowly moving down your chest, leaving sloppy open mouth kisses along the way. Rolling one nipple between his thumb and forefinger, he swirls his tongue around the other causing you to let out a sigh.

A string of split trails from your nipple to his mouth when he pulls away and replaces his other hand with his mouth, sucking the other nipple into his mouth. Fingers running through his hair, your breathing stutters when he grinds his hips into yours, feeling his bulge through his sweatpants.

His mouth trails down your body, planting a kiss on your lower stomach. Thumbs slipping under the waistband of your bottoms and underwear, his fingers pressing into your skin before pulling both pieces of fabric down your legs.

Kissing his way up the inside of your thigh, he looks up at you from between your legs. Your breath hitches in your throat when his eyes meet yours as his own breath hits your clit. Whining at the lack of contact, you wiggle your hips only causing Seungcheol to let out a dark chuckle, "What do you want, Princess?"

He's so close to you, every word out of his mouth causing a shiver to run up your spine, "Please."

"Please, what? Use your words, Sweetheart." You can't see the smirk on his face but you know it's there. Pausing for you to give him the answer, he swipes his tongue over your clit, "Come on, Princess, say it."

You pull your bottom lip between your teeth before answering, "Please, fuck me."

He flattens his tongue over your core before slipping it between your folds. Finally getting what you want, a loud moan escapes your lips. Your hips move to meet his mouth before he moves one arm over your hips, holding them against the mattress as his tongue delves deeper into your throbbing pussy.

Sucking on your clit and lapping desperately at your folds, he presses you further into the mattress. Eyes closed, breathing labored, and legs shaking as he devours you.

Heat coils in your stomach, fire burning through your body as you whimper, not being able to form words. Seungcheol quickly notices the change, shoving his tongue back into you, nose bumping against your clit as he purposely moves his head. The fire in the pit of your stomach swells, your whole body growing hotter, your moans growing louder and louder. A choked sob leaves your mouth when he curls his tongue into you, whole body shaking, making you want to scream as you reach your high.

His chin glistens when he pulls away from you, breathing heavily as he climbs up your body and attaches his lips to yours. You moan when tasting yourself on his lips. Your hands roam to his body, palming him through his pants, making him release a moan into your mouth and grind into your hand.

Quickly pulling his whole body away from yours, he pushes his sweats off before settling his hips back against yours. The tip of his dick hitting your sensitive clit as he drags it across your soaking pussy.

Squirming underneath him, you silently beg for him to do something. His hands run from your thighs to your ankles, grabbing them and folding your legs over on yourself. He holds your ankles together with one hand, your knees pressed to your chest as he lines himself up.

You feel the tip of his cock slipping between your folds, slowly easing into you to allow you time to adjust to his size. Hands gripping the sheets as he wastes no time pulling out and slamming back into you. He kisses your calf as he thrusts into you, hips slapping together.

His thumb presses against your clit, lighting a fire under your skin. Crying out when he picks up pace, your body shaking at the sensation filling your body, you search for anything to hold onto, hand frantically grabbing at the sheets and pillows before you hand lands in his hair, grabbing onto the strands for dear life. The moans leaving you get louder the closer you get to your release. Seungcheol's grunts and moans fill your ears. You know he won't last much longer as his hips start to stutter with every thrust bringing him closer to his high.

"Cum for me, baby." His breathy tone brings you closer to your release.

His hips slow down but his thrusts get more aggressive, pounding into you harshly, thumb rubbing over your clit faster. Letting out a scream, you cum all over his dick. Letting out a loud groan, he gives you one last thrust. You can feel his cum fill you up, seeping out of your cunt when he pulls out of you.

He lets go of your ankles, throwing both of your legs to the side and flipping you onto your stomach. Gripping your hips tightly, he pulls your hips up, running his hands over your ass before leaving a harsh smack that makes a gasp escape your lips. He pushes back into you causing you to cry out into the pillow.

"Give me your hands." Seungcheol's voice is demanding, raspy and filling with lust as he takes your hands, crossing your wrists over one another and holding against to your back.

He holds your wrists together as he thrusts into you, hips slapping against your ass as his dick hits all of the right places. He moves your wrists farther up your back, arching your back to give him the perfect angle. Fucking into your sopping cunt, his voice strained as he speaks, close to reaching another high, "Fuck, Baby. Always taking me so well. My little slut."

His thrusts get harsher as he lets go of your wrists, running his hand up your back and grabbing a fist full of your hair, pulling you toward him. Turning your head to the side, staring into your eyes as he thrusts up into you. He roughly presses his lips to yours, groaning into your mouth. His grip on your hair tightens, slightly pulling your head back as his free hand finds its way to your clit, "Who owns this pussy?"

Choking out a strangled moan as he thrusts into you, you struggle to find words, "You."

"I can't hear you, Princess. Who?" His warm breath hits your neck, his world drawing out another moan.

A sharp snap of his hips causes you to scream out in pleasure, returning to low whimpers as you answer him, louder this time, "You. It's all yours."

His hand leaves your hair, wrapping around your body to grab your chest, squeezing tightly as he fucking into you, "That's what I thought."

Hips pressing against you, thrusting harder than before as he rubs circles on your clit. Blinding light covers your vision, head falling back into Seungcheol's shoulder and body shaking at the intensity of the feeling of your release. Seungcheol holds you against him as he releases into you, pressing hot kisses against your neck.

Heavy breathing fills the room. Seungcheol slowly lays you down and takes his place next to you. He gently moves a strand of hair from your face, leaning in to kiss your forehead and then your nose before reaching your lips. Pressing soft kisses to your lips as he draws shapes onto your bare back, he smiles at you, "You okay?"

A short laugh escapes your lips, "Never been better."

The smile on his face widens, the rough man from moments ago replaced with the sweet one in front of you, "Do you think you can sleep?"

His voice held nothing but love and concern. Smiling back at him, you nod, "I'm gonna hope I have that nightmare more often if it ends up like this."

Seungcheol lets out a happy laugh, shaking his head at you, "You just have to ask."

The nightmare was far from your mind. There is no fear of closing your eyes and seeing the dark sockets where eyes should be because all you can see when you close your eyes are Seungcheol's love filled eyes staring back at you.

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harmoonix · 11 months

Text

Peaceful astro observations

~ Hakuna Matata ~ No worries ~

┍━━━━╝💎╚━━━━┑

🌊��🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊

▫️☘▫️Venus - Moon aspects can be very sacrificial, doesn't matter what relationship they are, friends or lovers they tend to give everything to them and they can end up hurt most times 🖤

▫️☘▫️Venus in the 11th house/Aquarius can be very protective of their friends, and being posesive around them it can happen very often, is not always a bad thing is just their mechanism

▫️☘▫️Venus in Aquarius Degrees [11°, 23°] the native can really have a unique fashion style and it can bring much attention from others because of their uniqueness, also meeting potential love partners in online can happen with those degrees

▫️☘▫️Mars/Venus in the 5th or 2nd house or in Taurus/Leo can make the native to have a very sensual personality, they are stunning while wearing gold or shinning colors and often giving luxurious vibes

▫️☘▫️Mars/Aries in the 3rd house/Gemini/Aries/Scorpio can really have a naughty mind, thinking about such things always and everywhere, sometimes it can happen so randomly and is scary

▫️☘▫️Saturn - Moon/Pluto - Moon aspects tend to be extremely protective of the people they love, they are always caring and sharing their love but not always recieving those things back, and that is making them sad

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Why, why can't this moment last forevermore?

Tonight, tonight eternity's an open door

No, don't ever stop doing the things you do

Don't go, in every breath I take, I'm breathing you

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

▫️☘▫️Jupiter and Neptune aspects tend to have this interested side of them being attracted to mysticism, and always being the search for new things related to spiritually/mysticism

▫️☘▫️Uranus and Pluto aspects make the native to be very wise and determined yet still discovering something new about themselves everyday, is like they learn something new but in the same time collecting moments of knowledge

▫️☘▫️Saturn - Ascendant aspects just have this *body goal*, their bone structure might be really strong and very prominent in case you go at gym and have these aspects your muscles can appear slower but it will be good in the end they will look amazing

▫️☘▫️Venus in Pisces/12th house or aspecting Neptune can make the native to fall in love blindly sometimes, they can create this fake illusion about their specific person, most times they can fall in love with people who will hurt them but because of their thoughts they think will think everything is fine with their specific person [I'm not saying everyone with those placements happen to have these but it can happen to many to fall in love blindly with dangerous people] {Venus and Neptune in minor aspects can aswell have this }

▫️☘▫️Neptune in the 1st house or Neptune aspecting the ascendant can absorb people's energy often and that can cause them to have a spiritual attack, like when you go on street and you feel sad and draining energies around you is because you can absorb them so always protect yourself from bad energies

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

How can we not talk about family when family's all that we got?

Everything I went through, you were standing there by my side

And now you gon' be with me for the last ride

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▫️☘▫️Mercury in Earth degrees [2°, 6°, 10°, 14°, 18°, 22°] can have a good voice and can possess singing abilities/talents, they can really maintain their voices at high levels and have a good control upon that

▫️☘▫️Pisces and Aquarius Risings repsent the kids of the space, this influence can bring them so many questions about space, sky, galaxies etc... And can often get lost in their head thinking about "What if there is more than earth 🌎"

▫️☘▫️Neptune/Jupiter - Mars aspects in tight degrees can make the native to have hypersexuality energy in them, and being into this part of taboo. They can also be curious about those things and happy to learn about it

▫️☘▫️Natives with Sun/Moon or Mars in the 9th house have really strong beliefs and is very hard to change their mind about something they believe in, you can rather stay quiet than opening a subject these natives believe in

▫️☘▫️Moon in Virgo/6th house tend to worry about a lot of things and having this type of "overthinking" even in a relationship it cause them to fight often because of these, i know it can be hard but remember that you are very strong and you can beat these thoughts who make you to worry about bad things 💖

▫️☘▫️Virgo placements have also an obsession with cleaning, they can see literally every single little thing that falls on the floor, and they will clean it because these natives really like it to be clean, stress can happen if they don't clean or work

▫️☘▫️Aries/Scorpio/Aquarius and Gemini in the 7th/11th houses are the people who really get into very different relationships every time, every new person they met has something different than the other

▫️☘▫️Juno in Aquarius/Aries/Scorpio and Leo can get possesive spouses, especially when they wanna hang out with someone, their spouses can get jealous easily aswell is because of their 11th, 1st, 8th and 5th houses energeies

▫️☘▫️Asteroid Aglaja 47 [Splendor Asteroid related to beauty] in aspects with the Sun or Moon can make the native naturally beautiful and charming

▫️☘▫️Asteroid Aglaja 47 making an aspect with Uranus can make the natives beauty unique and different than others, the native can have something special about their appearance and personality

▫️☘▫️Asteroid Aglaja 47 aspecting Mercury or in the 3rd house, the native can have a very beautiful voice and the way the native put works together makes the native beautiful

▫️☘▫️ Natal Sun in the 12th house/Sun in Pisces natives have this charm upon them since they were born, the native always felt to have a connection apart with nature/animals this is giving highly empath person

▫️☘▫️Moon in the 8th house or aspecting Pluto can experience grief very painfully, is usually and indicator of pain when grief happens ❤️😭

▫️☘▫️ Mars in the 3rd/7th/11th houses can experience to argue with their friends/siblings/partners often because of the things that can happen between you

▫️☘▫️ Venus in the 10th/11th houses are world appealing, let's say that a lot of people can like you and can influence you in this time

▫️☘▫️Uranus in the 10th & 6th houses can change their jobs often due to their thoughts about others jobs or purely finding a better job at some point

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The theme for this post was inspired from Avatar😍😍😍, i loved the both 2 movies so much and it was such an inspiration to make a post with the whole Sully Family (atwow fans will know what I'm talking about 🤷🏻‍♀️)

Here some peaceful notes for y'all 😍🙏🏼 hope you will like it ✈️🌊

Make sure to give yourself the best treatment and to love yourself the most! That's very important for everyone 🌟💁🏻‍♀️🥰

Have a happy Thursday everyone!🥰 Much love to everyone reading my notes 🥰🥰🥰🥰

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bravevolunteer · 4 days

Note

Mikey gets cancelled for eating out of the garbage. No one cares if it's actually true, he's still cancelled.

anonymous // tell me why my muse would get cancelled

“EATING out of the garbage?” Michael raises a brow, struck with an idea. “I can prove those accusations false, at least.” He leans forward ominously. “I’m a zombie. All my organs were scooped out and that’s why I’m purple, I should be dead, I can’t eat.” Why is he telling you this? Because no one will ever believe you-

#🧍‍♂️#i think he’s earned a little fucking around actually-#this is why he gets cancelled LMAO #⁂ ･ﾟ: and through it all the rise and fall the bodies in the streets ➛ in character #anonymous #⁂ ･ﾟ: i feel more free than i have in years‚ six feet in the ground ➛ answered

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ahsterism · 1 year

Text

@comfrtcrowd asked: an ( accidental / mutually ) drunken kiss . fitz & michael they're stupid (affectionate) // kiss prompts

LAUGHTER FLOATS THROUGH THE AIR as Michael sways slightly in place, fumbling slightly for the coffee table before he successfully places his drink down, dramatically falling back onto the couch with a satisfied exhale... cracking again when his eyes lock with an also drunk Fitz. "What? M'not— that plastered. I only had, uh..." He presses his lips together in thought, before snorting loudly. "Dunno, actually, never mind."

Michael... is hard to categorize intoxicated. Nothing could ever be SIMPLE with him, can it? Even trying to take the edge off, it always seems to come in waves of carefree highs and melancholic lows and anxious middles, something that... before having someone next to him, only ever felt palatable behind his masks and with his distance.

Right now, though, he is laughter and amusement and dizzy smiles. He doesn't care that he lost COUNT of the drinks because the room might be spinning but he can look at Fitz just fine. And he ALMOST doesn't care about Fitz making fun of his word choice... almost. "What?! It means drunk— least I didn't say hammered," The word slur under his breath, and he leans closer with what can only be called drunken boldness. "Whatever, you're just lookin' at me 'cause y'actually wanna kiss me or something-"

Maybe it would have sounded flirtier if he could keep himself together, though the PROXIMITY between them suddenly stands out... and Michael is hit with just how overwhelmingly he does want to kiss Fitz right now. His head is still fuzzy, enough to kick down his nerves and walls and expose the desperate want that pushed him closer and closer until they're inches apart, until that small distance closes.

The kiss is MESSY and uncoordinated with the distinct taste of alcohol, but god, Michael doesn't care— whether it's the drinks or the yearning talking, he feels like he's floating, heat rushing to his face as they... try to steady their drunken selves against each other. He exhales with a stupid smile after they part for air, already wanting to kiss him again. "Called it-"

#michael: oooo you wanna kiss me so bad (immediately delves into his own fucking YEARNING)#drunk michael has two modes it's silly dumbass & anxiety he has no choice over which it will be and does not control when it changes DHJDGD #✧ michael afton. ic / and through it all the rise and fall the bodies in the streets #comfrtcrowd #✧ answered

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ahsterism-aa · 2 years

Text

@visionwrote asked: “don’t worry, i have a few knives up my sleeve.” dottore @ michael lol // you know what speaking of unhinged michael crossovers

“WHY THE HELL would any of what you just told me work with a damn ‘don’t worry?’” From his... colorful choice of words, one would think its said with fear or anger, not.... the complete exhaustion Michael actually puts into his response. “I don’t suppose those’re just for some cheap party trick-” God he wishes there were ANY normal party tricks around him. “-are they?”

#fuck it puts him eVE RY WH RE I GUES FDSFHJKLFD #cursed cursed cursed c-#why was he put on this earth . just to suffer .#michael afton. ic / and through it all the rise and fall the bodies in the streets #visionwrote #michael afton / answered

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majestyeverlasting · 4 months

Text

Nice & Slow | e.m. x reader

Summary: Late night kisses lead to Eddie worrying about losing you, but come morning, you chase those worries away.

Word Count: 2.1k

♡

Now that the curtains are drawn, the glow of the street lamps just barely break into the bedroom. It’s much darker now. Quieter too. The laughter and chatter that once filled the trailer had left along with the last few guests that disappeared into the night. The sated stillness that found you now had been welcomed with open arms.

“You’re not cold are you?” The question is murmured into the back of your neck, Eddie’s soft lips against your warm skin as he lays behind you. He must feel the way it makes you shiver because he gives your waist an affectionate squeeze where his hand rests.

Everything smells like him. The pillowcase, the sheets, the air.

If you were to flip back through everyday of your life, you would find few in which you felt as whole in the arms of another person. It was as if you’d gone every other moment without being complete. Eddie’s love was mending. The type that nestled between your ribs, and bloomed outwards with no sign of withering away.

His fingertips slip beneath the hem of your shirt and grace along the waistband of your pants. It was as if you were a book he’d had the pleasure of reading a million times over. Each page delicately thumbed, with notes scribbled in the margins. Literature be damned if it meant knowing the living, breathing intricacy of another.

“No, you’re always warm,” you finally answer, brushing your thumb over his knuckles. “Wish we could stay like this forever.” There’s a dreaminess to your voice, like you’re walking the line between sleep and wakefulness.

It’s an ambitious thought, but he made you that way.

“Forever…” It sounds like he’s tasting the word. “That’s cheesy,” he lightly accuses, nipping at your nape to distract from the warmth flooding his chest. He wouldn’t mind forever.

Your shoulders lift with a few contained giggles, before they sleepily spill past your lips. It’s the first livelier sound to break the air of his bedroom and, for a moment, he lets himself forget that his Uncle Wayne is asleep in the living room. You try to scoot away from him with no real conviction, already rendered boneless and weak. It isn’t until you hiccup on a breath that he relents. There’s a pleasant buzz beneath your skin as you resettle into his chest with a sigh. He offers up a content sigh of his own.

It strikes him then, how lucky he is.

“I love you,” he says.

“Mmm.” It’s a disbelieving sound. You’re only teasing, but it’s too late at night and he’s too tired to catch on.

“I do.” His voice is thick with honesty. “You’re everything to me. You know that,” he insists, low and earnest.

You roll over to face him then, brushing your fingertips along his hairline and running them down his stubbled cheek as he blinks his doe eyes at you.

“Now you’re starting to sound cheesy.”

“Then don’t scare me like that,” he complains weakly, leaning into your touch. “Sometimes I worry I’m not making it clear.”

“You make it clear everyday,” you assure, running your thumb over his Cupid’s bow. “I love you too.” You lean in to kiss him, nice and slow. A content hum rises up his throat.

He isn’t expecting you to pull away so soon, but you move to press a line of kisses down his chin. Groaning, he rolls onto his back and pulls you by your waist to lay on top of him. Your legs fall alongside either of his.

“Eddie,” A chuckle bubbles up your throat. “It was just a few extra goodnight kisses,” you say innocently.

He gives you a lopsided grin, dark eyes sparkling. “What’s a few more then?”

As soon as your lips meet again, it feels like you’re melting into him, his tenderness, his warmth. It’s almost too much, but you brave the feeling anyways, letting it soak all the way to your bones. Eddie’s body is steady and solid beneath you even though it feels like you’re falling.

When you pull away, he looks up at you in a way you can’t quite read, cheeks flushed.

“What is it?” you whisper, searching his eyes. “You haven’t seen a ghost, have you?” You playfully look over your shoulder and the corner of his lips twitch upwards.

Turning back around, you fold your arms over his chest and rest your chin on your hands. It’s an invitation for him to keep talking. He’s grateful for the steady pressure of your body. It’s like the two of you are one.

“I shouldn’t be here,” he says.

The room goes still.

A silence settles between you. It’s thick, thoughts somehow escaping into the air before words. You don’t have to ask to know what this is about.

There were still scars on his body attesting to that fateful night in the Upside Down. It was one of those potent memories that refused to remain cemented to the past. Pain flare-ups struck every now and again, but you knew the incident came to his mind more often than on those inopportune days because there was no way it couldn’t.

“If you weren’t supposed to be here, you wouldn’t be, Eddie,” you say, not harsh but convinced. “You fought for it. You deserve to be.”

“I know, it’s just…” He trails off, thinking. “On nights like this, when everything feels so goddamn perfect, it’s like I’m waiting for a rug to get ripped from under me.”

A small sliver of light leaves your eyes, and he digs the heel of his palms into his eyes. “Sorry, I’m ruining—”

“No, you’re not ruining anything,” you’re quick to say, reaching to pull his wrists down. “You could never.”

You’re not expecting a chuckle to escape him, but the sound fills your chest with a flicker of relief. Levity was always waiting somewhere in the wings. Even if the world was ending, you supposed it’d be there ready to take off the edge. That’s just what happened when he was around.

“I definitely could,” he argues.

A smile tugs at your lips even though you fight it. “You know what I mean.” You stroke his hair, watching the way his eyelashes flutter. “You want to be here, don’t you?”

A resounding yes echoes in his mind. Everyone he loves is on this side of the Upside Down. He’d claw his way back every single time.

“Of course I do.”

“Then that’s what’s worth holding onto. Not the what-ifs,” you tell him, praying your sincerity isn’t lost.

•••

The next morning, pale sunlight streams onto your face as you stand at Eddie’s bedside, squeezing his bicep to encourage him awake. In a brief flicker of wakefulness just moments ago, he’d convinced himself that he hadn’t felt you get out of bed. Upon looking up at you with bleary eyes, he wishes you were still in his arms. He muffles a yawn into his pillow before offering you an easy smile.

“Morning.” There’s a slight rasp to his voice.

“Good morning.” You smile back. “There’s somewhere I wanna take you.” Eagerness is coated around each word.

“Really?”

“Mhmm. But it’s a secret.” He wrinkles his nose at that.

“Just gimme, like, ten more minutes.” When you open your mouth to complain, he pushes the sheets off himself, and swings his legs over the side of the bed. “I’m messing with you, sweetheart.” You squeak when he pulls you to stand between his legs by the back of your thighs.

It’s impossible to ignore the warmth of his lips when he kisses your stomach through your shirt. He looks up through his lashes in time to see the flustered look that washes over your features. He doesn’t try to hide the boyish grin that spreads across his face.

“You like that?” There’s a teasing lilt beneath the innocence of his question. He kisses your stomach again, then raises the hem of your shirt up just enough to kiss the bare skin. “Hmm?” He looks back up at you for an answer he already knows.

Ignoring him, you work your fingers into his messy hair and scratch his scalp in that gentle way that always coaxes a shiver out of him. “I was thinking we could go get breakfast afterwards.” You try to keep your voice level but you’ve gone all soft and fuzzy on him.

“After my surprise?” he coaxes, kneading your waist.

You nod. “We have to hurry before it gets too late.”

That prompts him to stand to his full height, finally allowing you to embrace him. You press your ear to his chest and listen to the steady sound of his heartbeat, thinking about the night before. About ponderings on what should, shouldn’t be, and was.

As the sound thumps on you’re grateful that he’s still here. That he is.

•••

There’s something about seeing you behind the wheel of his van that makes Eddie feel good. He can’t quite pin why, but pride is somewhere in the mix alongside an eternal sense of adoration. It’s a hulking piece of metal, still going strong after everything he’d put it through since the day his Uncle Wayne helped him talk down the selling price.

You always look worlds prettier and focused than when he’s at the helm.

Hawkins is just beginning to wake up. A few people flitter into stores in their hats and coats. There’s a handful of other vehicles peppering the streets.

When you home to a stop at a stoplight, Eddie looks out the window at a teenager walking one of the shaggiest dogs he’s ever seen. He’s about to point it out to you, but you’re already looking.

“Reminds me of somebody I know.” You fight to keep a straight face after obviously taking in Eddie’s full head of hair.

His mouth falls open as the light turns green, and you give into a laugh when he snorts and shakes his head.

“You’re cruel,” he says, still chuckling. “Absolutely wicked.”

“Wait,” you breathe through a laugh. “We’re close. Can you close your eyes until we get there?”

Eddie listens without question, metal rings glinting as he reaches across the console to grab your thigh since you’ve deprived him of sight. No sooner does his thumb begin to rub small patterns onto your leg.

“I was just joking, by the way,” you tell him, meaning it.

His eyebrows furrow. “Oh, the dog thing?” A brief spell of laughter rises up again. Under oath, you’d swear it was your favorite sound. “It’s all good. No harm, no foul.”

He feels the van turning into what he can only assume to be a parking lot, if the way you slow down is any indicator.

“We’re here.”

•••

Lover’s Lake has never quite looked like this. At least, not when he was there to see. The way the early sunlight breaks through the trees as dissipating fog hovers over the water makes for a scene worth being immortalized. Both of you are quiet as you stand several feet back from the water’s edge, the tide gently lapping in.

Eddie was never one for nature until you came along, or being still, for that matter. You’d managed to open his eyes to the power of both. There was something healing about it, something mending. Like how he felt when he was alone with you. It was as if there was nothing or no one else in the entire world except for you by his side, and the sight stretched before him like an altar.

“I know it’s not the most life-changing thing in the entire world,” you start, playing with your fingers, “but it’s beautiful.

Especially for Hawkins, you want to add. Even the air is fresher and more crisp over here.

“Can we sit for a second?” He asks, looking behind himself at the ground.

Both of you take a seat. Him with his long legs outstretched, and you hugging your knees.

“I’m really starting to think you have superpowers.” Along with the playfulness, you can hear the overwhelming note of gratitude in his voice. “You always know what I need before I do.” He looks over at you like you’re a wonder fallen from the sky.

Your eyes stay on the delicate ripples of the water. “My only powers are watching and listening.” Eddie waits to speak because he can sense that you have something else to say. “I know you’re worried about good things being ripped away from you, but look.” You motion out in front of you.

“Doesn’t it kinda make you feel like everything’s gonna be okay?” You lean your head onto his shoulder, briefly closing your eyes as you exhale.

It does, even if only for this moment in time.

Thank you! More on my page <3

Eddie Munson Masterlist

#eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x y/n #stranger things

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suuuupernovaaa · 10 months

Text

Pierced - Hobie Brown x f!Reader

You've been seeing Hobie for a while, and he's just now finding your surprising piercings.

Mature. Smut. 18+.

Walking side by side down the street, I know that Hobie and I look a little odd together. Sunshine and rain. Day and night. Darkness and light.

Hobie is all sharp elbows, piercings, raised eyebrows, tattoos and piercings, shit-this and fuck-that. He's loud and aggressive and somehow always relaxed.

I am none of those things. I am crisp, anxious, soft-spoken, small, always dressing modestly and in muted colors, afraid of my own shadow, of any attention.

Except his.

When we're alone, there's no difference between us. Lying on my couch, Hobie's head rests on my stomach, and I watch it rise and fall with my heavy breaths.

He is laying between my legs, and I feel... warm.

His hand, large and calloused from years of playing guitar, travels slowly up my side, under my yellow sun dress. The air conditioner in the window hums, blowing cool air over us as the temperature outside climbs.

His hand leaves a trail of goosebumps wherever it goes. He lingers on the side of my breast, gently stroking, and I gasp. He chuckles.

"What's this?" he asks, and lifts his head up to look at you. His deft fingers have just brushed across the hard metal bar through my nipple. My one rebellious act, something just for me. And now for him.

I blush and try not to smile. "A nipple piercing."

He is almost too stunned to speak, which is truly a miracle for Hobie. "May I see them?" he asks, his words strung together in one lump. He's lost his breath.

I bite my lip and nod. He rushes to his knees, kneeling between my legs, and grabs the hem of my dress. Slowly, he pulls it over my thighs, my stomach, and finally reveals my pale bralette.

Sitting up on my elbows, I allow him to pull the dress over my head. My heart is hammering in my chest. This is the furthest we've gone, and even though I've desperately wanted to, I've been nervous - nervous to disappoint Hobie.

"Are you sure?" he asks, his fingers teasing the straps of my bra. All I can do is nod, there is a large lump on my throat, and gooseflesh covering every inch of me. My nipples stand erect as he pulls the bra over my head, and his hands quickly return to them. He runs his thumb gently over one, then the other, and I fall back onto the couch, letting out a soft sigh.

"Fuck me, Y/N," Hobie whispers. "That's the hottest thing I've ever seen."

My blush deepens, reddening not just my cheeks, but my neck and my chest, as well. I can feel my body growing hot.

Without hesitation, Hobie leans down and takes one nipple into his hot, wet mouth. Involuntarily, my back arches off the couch, and I put a hand in his hair.

"Hobie!" I gasp, but he doesn't stop. He swirls the piercing around his tongue, tugging my sensitive bud with it, and I throw my other arm over my eyes, beginning to pant.

He releases my nipple with a soft pop, and immediately brings his mouth to the other, groaning as he takes it in.

"Oh, god," I moan. Heat pools between my legs, and I can feel my panties growing damp already. As if he can sense it, Hobie's hand drifts down my side once more, and tugs at the waist band of my underwear. He releases my stiff peak, and brings both hands to my panties, pulling them down, over my knees, and off.

I am completely exposed in front of him, and he is still fully dressed. I reach out for his shirt, and without missing a beat, he yanks it over his head. We repeat this dance with his belt, and his pants, until only Spider-Punk themed boxers are left.

"Really?" I ask flatly, and he shrugs and smirks, and then positions himself between my legs once more - but he's no longer paying attention to my nipples.

He presses a soft kiss just above my mound. "I want to taste you," he whispers.

"Yes," I reply immediately, my hands already in his hair as his head moves further south.

If I thought his mouth was magic on my nipples, it's nothing compared what he does with my pussy. He takes my clit into his mouth, sucking and swirling, humming to create a beautiful vibration that makes me turn my head to the side, moaning loudly into the back of the couch.

He brings two fingers up as he continues his assault on my clit, teasing my entrance, and I open my legs as widely as possible, beckoning him in.

He enters agonizingly slowly, and his thick, cold rings are a surprising treat. His fingers curl upwards, finding just the right spots inside of me, and I grind down onto him, desperate for more.

"Oh, fuck, Hobie," I say with a loud groan. Something tells me I should be embarrassed about how loudly I'm reaching, but I just can't be; I've never felt anything like this before. His long fingers stoking inside me, his mouth on my clit, and his other hand twisting and pulling at my nipple.

I cum with embarrassing speed, arching my back and screaming his name as I do, and he never lets up, wringing more pleasure out of me, until I have to grab him by the shoulders and pull his mouth to mine. I can taste myself on him, and it makes my pussy clench again.

He pushes my hair out of my face and pulls away, just enough to smile down at me. "I'd like to fuck you now," he whispers, and I take in a sharp, fast breath.

"Please, fuck me," I say, realizing how empty I feel, how satisfied and yet unsatisfied I am.

"Are you sure?" he asks. "I don't wanna... go too fast. I was going to wait. The piercings, Y/N. My cock is so fucking hard."

I reach down, pulling his boxers off as far as I can, and he finishes the job, then settles between my legs, looking at me again.

"I want you so bad," I say, almost crying with the desperation of it, unable to think of anything else. "I want you inside me."

He reaches down and positions himself at my entrance, teasing me, and I thrust my hips up, crazy and desperate for him.

"Now, Hobie," I demand, and he listens.

He thrusts into me, and I gasp with a sharp pain, and an unimaginable pleasure. He's large, and he stays still, allowing me to adjust for just a few moments, before he starts to move.

His fingers were incredible, but this is something else altogether. Jesus Christ, it's magic.

I grip his back, digging my nails in, as he thrusts in and out slowly, stretching my walls around him, hitting exactly the right spot. I can feel another orgasm building already.

"Fuck, Y/N. You're so tight. So fucking ready for me," he whispers in my ear, his hot breath on my neck.

It's only a few more strokes before we cum together, and he moans my name in my ear while my pussy clenches tight around his cock, taking every drop of him into myself.

When we're finished, he collapses on top of me, his head in the crook of my neck, and we pant in rhythm together.

"I thought I loved you before today. Now I'm fucking sure," Hobie says.

I am so blissed out, and so tired, I almost don't catch what he's saying to me - for the very first time.

He looks up, and gives me a true, genuine smile. Something that is rare from Hobie.

"I love you too." I lean down, and press a gentle kiss to his nose.

"Got any hidden tattoos or anything?" he says with a laugh.

"You'll just have to wait and see."

#Hobie brown smut #Hobie brown x reader #hobie brown #Hobie brown fic

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twilight-orchid · 3 months

Text

Shower Suprise

Jason Todd x gn pregnant reader

Notes: So, I’m currently fighting a war against baby fever and baby daddy jason makes me feral so I decided to write a self indulgent fic. I’m working on a couple sequel fics so let me know if you enjoyed this and I’ll post the others too. I’m not a great writer and have never written for Jason before, so sorry if it’s shit lmaooo

Part 2

Word count: 1730

Contains cursing, unplanned pregnancy, mention of abortion, talk of adoption

Jason had gotten home a little after 4 am. He’d been patrolling the cold, rainy streets since 11 and Gotham had finally grown quiet. His body ached something awful from the numerous fights he’d gotten into that night, and exhaustion had crept into his bones making him feel like he could fall asleep standing up.

He climbed into the window of the dark apartment silently to avoid waking his lover and got out of his gear in the living room. The sound of clanking metal and ripping zippers tended to get noisy. Once in his briefs alone he slipped into your bedroom, pausing for a moment to watch the rise and fall of your chest with a smile on his face. You slept soundly, your hair a nest around your face and your soft snores like a comforting lullaby to Jason.

He reluctantly made his way to your shared bathroom. He’d love nothing more than to just go to bed, but you didn’t like it when he got into the clean sheets with Gotham’s grime on him. And, to be fair, he was pretty gross some nights. He showered quickly, enjoying the steaming water on his sore muscles, then hastily moved to brush his teeth. However, something odd caught his eye as he spat.

There were balls of what looked like clean tissue wadded up atop the trash, which was strange as he’d just changed it before he left. You didn’t have a cold or anything that would constitute using that much. He furrowed his brow, a weird feeling washing over him. Something white and shiny just barely peeked out from underneath, and he moved the tissue aside to reveal not 1 but 4 pregnancy tests. His heart froze, time seeming to stop around him. Dread built in his gut as he grabbed the sticks, and terror settled in as he picked up one positive after another. Holy shit, y/n was pregnant. He’d gotten you pregnant. Fuck.

Something pleasant stirred in his gut but he squashed it down. His child would be in danger every day having him as their father. If anyone found out about his baby, child of the Red Hood and grandchild of the Batman, they’d instantly have a target on their head. Aside from that, he’d be a terrible father. He was gruff without meaning to, he had a short fuse, and he certainly didn’t have any good role models. All he could think about were the ways he could accidentally fuck them up. He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn’t notice you until you were in the bathroom with him.

He was no longer tired, adrenaline pumping through his veins as he dropped to the floor. Fuck fuck fuck. He couldn’t be a father, he’s Red Hood. He had huge time constraints, anger issues, and most importantly, a lot of blood on his hands. How could those hands, forever stained red, hold something like an innocent newborn in his grasp? A baby, with chunky cheeks and thighs, perhaps with his hair and your eyes.

“Jay?” You asked tentatively. He realized he was hyperventilating. He tried to respond, but he found all he could do is stare at your middle. Your eyes slipped to the floor, taking in the discovered pregnancy tests as he watched your face turn. This is clearly not the reveal you were hoping for. You crouched to his level.

“Jay, can you breathe with me?” He was still lost in his thoughts, buried in his anxiety. But he looked up and met your gaze, your features worried. For him. He closed his eyes and nodded with a shuddering breath.

“Alright babe, in through the nose…. Out through the mouth.” He followed along with you, his hand reaching out. You grabbed it firmly with both of yours without hesitation, running your thumbs along his skin. He usually didn’t like to be touched when he was having episodes, but something about your warmth grounded him. He steadily felt his heart begin to slow down.

You let go with one hand to tenderly cup his cheek, smiling sheepishly at him.

“You’re pregnant.” He said simply. You bit your lip and looked away, but nodded.

“I made an appointment in the morning to get an ultrasound and make sure, but well, 4 positives. Plus, you know how sick and nauseous I’ve been. Emotional, tired, hungry for weird shit…” He cursed under his breath and noted how your shoulders sank. Your hand just barely moved to your belly before you caught yourself, returning it to your side.

“You want the baby.” He stated, though it was more of a question. You sighed in frustration and ran your hand through your hair.

“I don’t know. I don’t feel ready, but I can’t stop picturing a little baby that looks like me and you and I just… I can’t-“ Your resolve crumbled as tears began rolling down your cheeks. He took you into his arms instantly, pulling you onto his lap and letting you bury your head into his neck as you sobbed. He drew circles into your back and whispered reassurances, but his head was spinning.

“I don't know what to do Jay!” You whimpered. He didn’t know either, but he needed to come up with a solution. For you.

A baby. A fucking baby. Bruce would absolutely lose it.

“Well,” he started, his voice calm. He was freaking out, but you didn’t need him a nervous wreck. You needed him strong and steadfast. He took a deep breath.

“There’s allot going on in our heads right now, why don't we break down our options, yeah?” You nodded, still sniffling and sat in his lap to meet his eyes.

“No matter what, I'm not putting a baby in the Gotham foster system. No way.” He started. Gotham had a lot of kids entering its foster system and almost no kids being adopted. Bruce had been trying to help solve the issue for years, but Jason knew if they gave the baby up for adoption, they’d likely have a hard time finding a home. Not to mention the issue still stood that they’d be in danger if their parentage was discovered, except in that scenario Jason wouldn’t even know where they are to help them. You nodded in agreement.

“So that leaves…” you began softly.

“Keeping it or getting rid of it.” He finished. Your lip twisted and fresh tears fell, but you wiped them away.

“I don’t… what do you want to do Jay?”

“It’s your body.”

“And it's your baby.” You responded. That was fair, and he thought about it. There’s no denying it could be dangerous, but there was also no denying that his kid would have the planets greatest protectors on its side. His family would call to arms for his baby in an instant, as would the friends Jason had made through his life. Hell, even the Justice League would defend Bruce’s grand baby. And he wouldn’t repeat his mentor’s mistakes and drag his kid on the rooftops with him. They belonged at home; safe, cared for, and loved. A feeling he reveled in when he was with you. He thought about you holding a toddler in your arms and playing with them, the sound of his child’s laughter echoing through the house. He just knew you would make an amazing parent. Feelings once again rose in his chest, but he didn’t push them down. He let them sit and, once he really thought about it, he kinda wanted to see the little guy live and grow. But ultimately it wasn’t his decision.

“I want what you want.” He finally responded. You groaned in frustration.

“I don’t want you to want what I want Jay. If I say I want it, I don’t want you to agree to make me happy and then feel trapped and then…” you trailed off, looking away from him. He furrowed his brow.

“And then what, leave you? Abandon you to raise my kid on your own? Do you really think I’d do that to you?” His tone sounded almost angry, but he didn’t mean for it to be. He wasn’t mad, he was hurt.

“No, Jay I-“ you sighed and ran a hand through your hair.

“I just don’t want to make you do something huge like this if it's not what you want. And I don’t want to force you to commit to me like that.” He scoffed at you.

“I think we’re well past worrying about me wanting to commit to you, doll.” You stared at him seemingly unconvinced, your fears and uncertainties visibly rattling around your skull.

He sighed. This wasn’t the circumstance he was hoping for, but his gut said it was time.

“You want to see how fucking serious I am about committing to you? Where the fuck are my jeans?” He gently pushed you off of him and told you to stay. He nearly chuckled at the cute, confused look on your face. He grabbed the pants he'd been wearing before patrol and fished his wallet out of his pocket.

“Look at this shit, I’ve been carrying this around with me for months.” You stared at him with a raised brow, wondering what the fuck he was doing. Out of the cash flap he pulled a small pouch of bubble wrap which produced a beautiful engagement ring. It was your picture-perfect ring; you couldn’t have picked a better one yourself. You froze, your breath catching in your throat.

“Jason-“

“No, shut up and listen to me. I love you. I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone on this god forsaken planet. You are beautiful, and kind, and funny, and so fucking smart. You’ve been there for me at my worst and my best without judgement. You’re one person that I know I can rely on, and I am so proud that you rely on me. I am a lucky fucking man to have you in my life, and if you want this baby I’m with you. And I’ll be the happiest man alive. But if you don’t want it, you don’t. And I’ll be happy with that too. But either way, I love you and I want you to be my one and only for as long as you’ll have me. So, what do you wanna do babe?”

#Jason Todd #Jason Todd x reader #Jason Todd x you #jason todd x y/n #red hood x reader #red hood x you #red hood x y/n #jason todd x pregnant reader #jason todd x pregnant!reader #red hood x pregnant reader #batfam #batman #dc comics #dc universe #dcu

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