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cheesecakethots · 21 days

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You’re tucked in the furthest side of the bed, facing away from the door when Shigaraki enters the room. You hear something soft drop, his coat, maybe, and then he starts approaching you.

The main benefit of him and the others joining the PLF is that he’s busier, and you have more time to be alone. Sure, there’s more security here, more people and less chance for you to run away, but you gave up on that a while ago.

The last time you’d tried escaping, he’d put a hand around your throat, and used the other to disintegrate the already torn clothing you had on your body. Then, he-

He calls your name. His voice is quiet, cautious.

You silently wish the sheets would eat you alive, and sit up, meeting his gaze. You don’t think the redness of his eyes matches the softness of the look he gives you, nor the small smile on his chapped lips.

Tomura can’t help but think you look cute, but you always look cute. His fingers twitch, and he thinks about holding you close and kissing the sleepiness from your face.

Instead he seats himself on the edge of the bed, slowly, as though approaching a startled animal. “Are you alright? How has your day been?”

You shrug, eyes drifting to stare down at your lap. He hates it when you’re like this.

“Hey, can you say something to me?”

“… Like what?” Your voice is hoarse and your throat is dry. You wish he’d leave you alone, wish he’d let you go back to sleep. Wish you wouldn’t wake up from it.

He recalls a time where you were the one who was chatty, having a nervous habit of talking about anything you could. He’s not sure if you did it to distract him or yourself. It didn’t take long for you to grow quiet.

He smiles at you, but he doesn’t look very happy. “Anything.”

You stare at him, and the smile falls a little.

“Is- Is there anything you want me to get for you? Anything on your mind? Anything you want to eat for dinner later?”

You shake your head, and he leans in a little closer to you, causing your body to shift uncomfortably.

“We can go out, if you’d like,” he suggests, tone low and almost soothing. “You used to ask about going to a dessert place, we can do that now. Or, if you want to stay in I’ll have someone bring us desserts. If not dessert, savoury food… I’ll have the chef make us your favourite- or, you your favourite. I won’t sit and eat with you if you don’t want me to. I don’t mind what, just- just tell me what you want.”

You eat less and less every day, and it scares him. You scare him. He knows it’s his own fault, though, that your silence and sadness and fear is something he himself moulded into you.

He used to find it funny when you cried, or worse, found your tears and protests would make his pants tighten around him, and his hands twitch with need. Tomura’s not sure when that stopped, but now the sight of your tears makes him feel sick, makes him wish to tear his own skin off, to claw his eyes out, to crawl into a ball and wither away.

He hopes the idea of dessert or whatever else will put some sort of spark back in your eyes, maybe it’ll make you look less lifeless and defeated.

“I’m… not hungry,” you say, slowly.

He’s getting frustrated, but not at you. Never at you, not anymore.

“We don’t have to eat. Do you want to go out? You used to ask to go out to the park, there’s a park nearby, it shouldn’t be too far of a walk.”

You don’t seem to like that suggestion, as you bury your head in your arms, bringing your knees up to your chest and shaking your head.

Tomura understands why. You used to get punished a lot for asking to go outside. The last time you had properly gone out, aside from when everyone was all on the run, had been when you’d ran away. He doesn’t want to remember what he did that day, and he’s sure you don’t either.

You had reassured him as he was dragging you back that you were going to come back, that you just wanted to go out for a bit to sit in the park. You were probably telling the truth, but it didn’t save you.

“… Cry, if you want to. You can scream at me. Hit… Hit me. It’s alright. I won’t be upset.”

You don’t want to do that. You don’t really want to do anything. You wish he’d leave you alone, though. Wish you’d keep shrinking and shrinking until he stopped noticing you at all.

He reaches a hand towards your face, and you flinch, eyes squeezing shut for a moment.

“I’m not going to hurt you. It’s… It’s alright. Please don’t be afraid.”

He knows it’s stupid to say. You’re always afraid when he’s around.

#ok technically this is unfinished but i promised i would post something #tw yandere #yandere #tw.yandere #yanderecore #yandere shigaraki tomura #yandere shigaraki #tw implied noncon #tw abuse #yandere mha #yandere bnha #yandere my hero academia

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stevenose · 10 days

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don’t delete the kisses - part 8/?

landing page

a camboy!steve au

this installment contains: more smut!! more bonding!! more cute shit!!; camboy!steve; reader with a vagina; ‘princess’ is used in reference to reader once; oral (reader receiving); slight bit of orgasm denial; steve tryna be a s*gar d*ddy; caring steve <3 like steve literally getting off on taking care of u 🫶🏻

though this is written as part of a series, it can be read as a standalone fic!

author’s note: we back gang 🫶🏻 i hope you enjoy this installment! i have a lot more ideas now of where i can take this au so excited to continue it :) and hopefully i will update it before 10 more months pass lmao

You assume, based on the way light filters in through your curtains, that it’s a little after 6 am.

And Steve’s still here.

He’s curled up into your side. Hotter than a radiator but you never move away from him. Not even when you’re sweating from the proximity - of being near him, of holding him when he’s sleeping, vulnerable.

You can still feel the ache he left between your thighs.

You’d stayed up for a while just talking. Admiring. It wasn’t supposed to be a sleepover. But when Steve fell asleep halfway through talking about winning his senior year basketball championship, you couldn’t possibly find it in your heart to wake him up. And at some point in the night his lonely fingers found your side and they haven’t left since.

Robin was right. He does snore.

You’re too wound up to fall back asleep. It feels like something life changing just happened and you’re not sure how to feel about it. What’s he going to say when he wakes up? What if he regrets it? And that cold, terrified grip holds on to your chest, heartbeat quickening.

Steve moans a little behind you. Not like how he sounded last night. It’s innocent, tired, small. His arm pulls you in tighter and then he props himself up to stare at the side of your face.

You look over your shoulder at his messy hair, the little bit of scruff that grew in over his top lip overnight.

“You’re so pretty,” he sighs, laying back down, pulling you in even closer. He kisses the junction of your shoulder and neck sweetly, his thumb rubbing back and forth against your ribcage.

You have to swallow an elated squeal.

“Why’re you up?” his voice is deep, hoarse.

You smile, pushing back into him. “You were snoring.”

He tickles you - well, tries to with his sleepy hands. “I don’t snore.”

“Okay.”

Steve giggles - a sound you’ve never heard in your life, one you’d like to cherish forever - and tucks his chin over your shoulder. “You okay?”

You melt into his touch. Sweat beads at your hairline but you don’t mind. “Mhm.”

He sounds a little more concerned when he asks, “You sure?”

“I promise.” You find his hand under the cover and lace your fingers through his. “I’m glad you’re here.”

He sighs, relieved. “Me, too.”

You’re almost positive he’s fallen back to sleep. His breaths even, get a little shallow. But then he talks again. “Can y’sleep?”

“Think I might just be awake,” you whisper. “But you can keep sleeping.”

“I’m up.”

You hum. “I’m not convinced.”

He rolls you over until you’re on your back, then props himself up above you. One hand finds your cheek and his sleepy eyes search yours for just a moment before he kisses you.

You have never cared less about morning breath.

It’s like he’s touching you for the first time again. All tender and reserved. His thumb swipes across your hot cheekbone and he presses his nose against yours when he pulls back. “Could a sleepy guy do that?”

You’re left a little speechless. You wish you had something funny and clever to say but you’re simply just enamored staring up at his soft face.

Steve looks like he’s thinking for a second, then says, “I can do more, you know.”

“I’m very aware.”

“You want somethin’?” His hand moves down your torso and rests at your hipbone, giving it a little squeeze. “You did all the work last night.”

You feel just as you did last night - excited, scared, sick, overjoyed, ache-y. “That’s not true,” you breathe.

Steve shrugs a shoulder. “Well, I don’t mind doing the work.”

You’re entranced. His thumb rubs soothing circles into your hips and he waits for you to say something, looking shy himself. You lick your lips subconsciously. “I don’t mind you doing the work, either.”

He grins and you feel so stupid. But he doesn’t give you a single moment to think of something better to say.

“You’re so beautiful,” he says softly. “I’d do anything for you. Anything you wanted.”

You nod dumbly.

He smiles a little, raising a brow slightly. “What do you want right now, sweetheart?”

You’re looking at his lips and yeah, you want those. You want those in so many places. And that tongue - a ribbon of arousal tightens in your stomach. “I want you.”

“I know you can do better than that,” he coos, leaning down to kiss your forehead. “You want what?”

You can’t speak, so you reach up and tap his lips with your fingers. Your face heats up when he kisses them. “You want my mouth?”

You nod. “Please?”

He kisses them again. “Where do you want it?”

You swallow hard and spread your legs. Last night was intense but this is something else. It’s six in the morning for Christ’s sake. And he looks like he just walked out of a porn shoot.

“Down here?” he asks, finally tucking his thumb into the waistband of your underwear. “Need my mouth on this pretty pussy?”

“Please?” you repeat. You can hardly hear yourself.

Your fingers slide away from his lips as he moves down the bed, throwing the covers to the side for a good look at you. You just about die at the sight of him, hair messy and still so perfect, naked shoulders broad, biceps flexing as he props himself up. “Help me out, huh, baby?”

You lift your hips for him to slide your underwear off. He places them neatly beside you on the bed, pats them twice with a wink. Whatever that means. You laugh, taking a moment to soak in the boy below you with his charm and gleaming eyes and freckles.

And then he parts your legs.

Your breaths hitch at the same time.

The air is cold on your center and you know you’re soaked. Embarrassingly so. But Steve is either indifferent or very much into it, because he says nothing, chestnut eyes trained on your core.

“This okay?” he asks, tearing his eyes away and blinking up at your face.

You nod vigorously. “Yeah, Steve.”

He turns his head to the side to kiss the inside of your thigh. It tickles. “Can you tell me what you want, please?”

You swallow hard, hands finding purchase on the sheets beneath you. “I want you to eat me out, Steve.”

He smiles softly and kisses up your thighs slowly. Occasionally he’ll press open-mouthed kisses to the skin, watching you squirm while he slots himself between them. “Want to know a secret?”

You want to know them all. Every last one. “Mhm.”

“I’ve cum thinking about having you like this before.” Another open-mouthed kiss. “All to myself.” Another. “Tasting how sweet you are, feeling you cum on my tongue.”

You’re more than breathless.

“Thought about it when recording. Had to grit my teeth to not moan your name.”

You listen attentively, burning up.

“And I thought about it at work sometimes,” he admits sheepishly. “About bending you over… eating you out behind the counter… and then I’d come home, set up my camera, and jerk off to it.”

You’re panting by now, his soft lips inching closer and closer to where you need him. You must be making a mess on your bed.

“So, if you think you’re a perv….”

He takes a moment to suck a hickey into your thigh and you finally whine, worked up to a boiling point.

“I thought about - about it, too.”

“Yeah?” Steve sounds hopeful. He readjusts himself below you. Wraps his arms around the backs of your thighs, planting you in place.

It feels a little bit like you’re on a rollercoaster, waiting for the drop.

“I’ve thought about everything with you.”

Inexplicably, Steve’s eyes both brighten and darken at once.

“I’ll give everything to you.”

It’s the most romantic goddamn thing anyone’s ever said to you, and a second later he’s eating your cunt like it’s his last meal.

“Oh -!” you gasp, hips jerking up. His strong arms hold you in place, keeps you still while he licks slowly up and down your folds. His tongue, hot and wet and thick, soothes the ache where he worked you open last night. Your head sinks into your pillow, unfocused eyes staring up at the pale blue light on your ceiling. “Oh …!”

“Mhm,” he hums, licks so slow it almost kills you. Your clit throbs, hole clenching, desperate for his affections again. He pulls away, just for a moment, chin already slick and eyes the color of coffee. “You taste so good.”

Steve’s lips wrap around your folds and he sucks. You gasp and arch your back but Steve pins you down again. He isn’t keen on letting you get away from the worship you deserve. He pulls back to look at you again, at your glistening cunt and pleasure-dazed eyes. “Oh, sweetheart. Hold on.”

And his hands reach upwards from where they’re tucked under you. You reach for them, letting your hands interlace again. They lock into place and he squeezes sympathetically, like he knows he’s about to ruin you.

He doesn’t pull any punches when he resumes. The tip of his tongue traces tight circles into your clit and you writhe again, back twisting, whining out for him. He moves slow and methodically and you wish he would just finish you off. It’s almost torturous how gingerly he moves, even if there’s a good reason for it.

Steve doesn’t want to just make you feel good. He wants to devour you. He wants to dedicate the feeling of you, the taste of you, the sounds of your pleasure, all to memory.

And then he purses his lips and sucks on your clit.

You’re so far gone. Eyes rolling back, legs tightening around his face. “Oh my god Steeeeeeve!”

He giggles, but doesn’t stop. Keeps his lips wrapped tight around you, keeps sucking. It makes a perverse noise, so dirty that it makes your stomach flip. Your eyes roll back painfully and just when it’s about to be too much he finally unlatches himself and soothes your swollen clit with a broad stroke of his tongue. He dips down, pushing his face into you to taper his tongue into your hole.

“Oh my god, oh my god, fuck….”

The tip of his nose rubs against your clit steadily while he tastes you. “So gorgeous,” he purrs, his breath fanning against your cunt. “You ever taste yourself?”

“God - no -“

Steve sighs like it’s a pity, then goes back to work. He moves where you need him, just as you need it, like he’s a mind reader. You twist and writhe in his grip before finally getting loose from his hands. They’re clammy as you reach for his hair, tugging just how he likes, and he quite literally growls as his efforts increase tenfold.

Little unhs are torn from your throat. Your eyes roll back and forth, hooded when you finally get the courage to steal a glance at him. His highlighted hair tangled up in your fingers, his back rippling, the veins on his hands popping just a bit as he pins you down. He’s grinding his hips, too, and you moan over that - he loves eating you out so much he’s trying to get off on it.

Your heartbeat hammers in your ears.

“Fingers,” you choke out, tugging on his locs. “Fingers, please Steve?”

“Yeah?” He pulls back, your grip loosening, and he lines his middle finger up with you. “You’re such an angel, know that? Always sayin’ please.”

His fingertip teasing you is driving you to insanity. You swallow hard. “Let’s talk about it another time.”

He laughs again, white teeth gleaning. “What’s wrong? Pussy’s so empty, huh?”

You nod. “Please, I’ll do anything for it.”

His smile turns a little evil. “Okay. Then here’s what’s going to happen.”

He slides his finger into you and you gasp. The pad of it settles right against your sweet spot. He crooks his finger just right and you moan loudly, needily, grinding your hips down.

Steve looks up at you with a little bit of awe and a lot of determination. “I’m going to pay for your rent ‘til you find another job.”

“But -“

Crooks his finger again, makes you cut yourself off with another moan. His other hand moves to your clit, rubbing slow circles into it.

“Mhm, and I’ll get your groceries, too, and I’ll pay for our dates. Treat you like a princess because it’s what you deserve.”

“You can’t,” you reply hoarsely.

“Let me,” he breathes, “or I won’t let you cum.”

Your hands twist hard into your bedsheets. Steve’s fingers move slow, enough to keep your mind hazy, unable to think straight.

“Not fair,” you whimper.

“It’s not fair you lost your job,” he coos sympathetically.

You shake your head. “Not - not fair you’re h-helping.”

“I want to give you the world.” His eyes are soft, his fingers moving faster, calculated. “Let me.”

Your legs shake around his shoulders. “I - but I -“

His mouth replaces the thumb on your clit and you’re gone again. Nothing but a little toy for him to play with. Mind blank, focused on nothing but the coil in your stomach, his tongue swiping across your nub, his lips sucking, his finger curling.

“Fuck.” It’s all you can say.

“Let me,” he moans against your skin, panting a little. “Let me take care of you.”

“Steve, Steve, Steve, Steve….”

“Say yes.” His voice is rough, hoarse. “Say yes or you won’t cum, baby, ‘nd I wanna see it, wanna see you cum again, please angel.”

Your mouth drops, pleasure and shame heightening in your stomach. You shouldn’t let him. But you want taken care of. And if he’s begging for you to let him, why wouldn’t you?

And, anyway, you really need to cum.

So you nod, mouth dropping open as your high comes to a head. “Y- yes!”

If you could open your eyes, you’d see how happy Steve is. “Yeah? Gonna let me?”

You nod again. “Shit, Steve!”

“Yeah, honey,” he grits, lips still tickling your clit, his finger working your sweet spot, his dick grinding into your bed. “So goddamn pretty, let me taste you when you cum.”

His breath is loud when his mouth engulfs your pussy again. You gasp and reach for his hair, fisting it like it’ll keep you tethered to reality. Your body goes stiff as you cum, clenching down on his finger so hard you’re both not sure how it doesn’t break. Steve groans lowly, tongue and lips still unwavering, sucking your clit into ecstasy.

You feel so good, so taken care of, that you cry, hot tears spilling down your face as you squeeze your eyes shut. Bliss washes over you swiftly and leaves you warm and relaxed in his wake. It seems to last forever. You’re breathless and dizzy by the time you’ve calmed down, body going slack again.

Steve finally pulls himself away from you. A thick string of saliva connects you together. You moan at his flushed, wet cheeks.

“You’re so good at that,” you pant.

He grins, pushes his hair back out of his face before crawling up towards you. He’s quick to grab your chin and press a kiss to your lips. You taste yourself for the first time ever. And it’s hot, for no reason. Steve licks into your mouth with it before pulling back.

“You like how that tastes?” he asks, playing with your bottom lip.

You look at him wide-eyed. “Uh-huh.”

“Me, too. Know how much I love it?”

You shake your head.

“I just came in my boxers.”

You gasp, elated. “You mean it?”

He scrunches his nose. “It’s really not that hot.”

“Are you kidding?” you whisper, reaching up for his face. “That’s so goddamn hot, Steve.”

He groans, as if you’re kidding him, and rolls off to lay beside you. You’re quick to stare at his crotch, mouth dropping at the stain spreading over the cotton. He pulls you into his chest before you can properly admire it, and bumps his nose against yours.

“You’re gonna let me, right?”

Your brows furrow. “Cum in your pants?”

“No! I mean about taking care of you.”

“Oh.” You almost forgot about all that. “It’s - you’re so nice, Steve, but my rent’s hundreds of dollars -“

“Okay?”

You narrow your eyes slightly. “Alright, don’t brag.”

“It’s only fair. I owe you, remember? Since you paid for my porn?”

Like you could forget.

“And in some ways, you’re like a business partner.”

“How?”

He kisses the tip of your nose. “I can assure you I’ve cum to the thought of you in at least half of my videos.”

If it were anyone else, you’d be disgusted, but it’s Steve. Dorky Steve who’s holding you like you’re precious right now, who just sucked your brain out of your clit. You’re a little flattered, in fact.

“You said yes before,” he reminds you.

“I can take it back.”

He furrows his brows, frowns, hums like he’s thinking. “Mmm, don’t think so.”

“Well, I already came, so….”

“Angel,” he sighs, rolling you into your back, crowding back on top of you. His cock is still half hard against your core. “I can always make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

You lick your lips, heart beating so fast it feels like it’s skipping. “Oh, yeah? Don’t think you’d last.”

He smiles and kisses your forehead. “You’re right. I wouldn’t.”

But he still leaves you a stack of hundreds on your bedside table when he’s about to go, refuses to take it back when you try shoving it into his hands.

“Just ‘til you get another job,” he says softly, holding your wrists gently in his hands, the hundreds curled up in your fist. “Let me help ‘til then, okay?”

“Fine,” you whisper, still feeling ashamed.

You both have an idea for another job in mind, but neither of you say anything.

#steve harrington smut #stevenose posts #ns/fw #steve x reader #ddtk

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oddinarylani · 3 months

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"you don't want me" | skz | pt. 1 | chan, lee know, changbin, hyunjin

9:51 pm. bang chan.

it was past midnight by now. the moon wasn’t shining. she was hidden behind great big storm clouds that’d been crying since noon. the dirt turned to slush, the pavements now a dark gray - different from their softer brighter colors underneath the sun. the only sound that triumphed through the room was the white-noise sound of the rain - beating down on the roof, on the windows, on cars outside, and on the earth.

empty. just empty. and tired. so tired. there wasn’t a way to describe it; and you were tired of trying. you hadn’t the drive for much anymore, not for work, or friends, but you still stood out for chan. you always would. you just haven’t been good at it for the past few weeks - and he was worried to bits which was the last thing you wanted.

maybe silence and the dreadful exhaustion of not even trying to communicate would fix things. maybe he’d get the right idea and move on. this couldn’t be good for him, no, surely not. there was better in the world, it just wasn’t the home of your arms.

“would you talk to me?” he asks, his voice shaky - brows melted together and worried sick. and he was truly worried sick. checking his phone for any texts from you or updates, laying awake when he let the worry eat him up.

you look up from your hands, realizing you were lost in thought. “o-oh, yeah. sorry.”

“sorry? i just want you to talk to me. you don’t have to apologize.” he grabs at your hands, a slippery grip that shakes his stable hold, he eventually steadies his hold and looks at you with a kind of wavering certainty. he’s trying desperately to be the strength you need, but his vigor is faltering. he sees all the hope in the palms of his hands being to melt away and he hadn’t the time to sort through the hundreds of thoughts forming in the terrorous wake of that.

your hand falls slack in his own, failing in your grip of his desperate grab of your hands. chan watches every microexpression that graces your face, seeing your brows bleed together. doubt strikes your features, and you slide your hand from his grasp, shaking your head before the words leave your mouth.

all you had to do was muster the strength to speak the words, but even then, swallowed by a kind of grief, completely blindsided by false-truths, but even then it hurt to say.

“y-you don’t want me,,” your watery eyes can’t even meet chan’s - he feels his heart shatter into a million pieces all over the floor.

“you’re all i want, all i have ever wanted- what do you mean.” and his voice wobbles, he wants to reach out, grab you, stabilize you - shake the sense into you, because what do you mean he doesn’t want you? he’s wanted you so terribly for so long that he let it tear him up inside.

“i’ve been in love with you for years- i-i love you so much, you’re all i want.” he does reach out now, bracing your arms in his gentle hands when the tears spill over your cheeks and you crumble in his hold.

“b-but i’m like,,, this- i-i don’t-” he brings your body into his arms, your chest meeting his as his big arms wrap around you and hold you tight to his body. he’s warm, and his embrace just fills you up so much you don’t know what to do with it.

“i love this part too. i promised you that and i do. i always will okay?” his hands hold the sides of your head, over your hair - and he pulls away to look you in the eye when he says that. he knows you need to hear it, knows you need to look at him when he does.

you fold and buckle, only able to nod to keep your voice from wobbling and cracking. you wrap your arms around his waist, resting your cheek against his chest.

“i’ll never stop telling you i love you.” he presses his plushy lips to the top of your head, his hands smoothing over your back gently. “i’ll tell you more.” he promises.

“i-i’m scared i’ll push you away, that i’ll scare yo-you off or that i’ll hurt you. i-i can’t-” you shake your head against him and frown, his t-shirt soaking up the wetness from your cheeks. “i can’t hurt you, chan. i can’t do that to you.”

“you don’t hurt me, baby. you never have, i promise. just wanna be here for you.” he mumbles against your hair, his hand cradling the side of your head. his lips leave tingly kisses along your hairline, and his promises to you fill you with love that you’re unsure what to do with.

you nod against him, and he smooths his hands over your head again, “okay? i love you.” he pulls away, his eyes soft and brows melted together as his sights washed over your tear stained cheeks and face. “love you too.” you mumble, his thumbs swiping your under eyes and drying your cheeks.

8:12 am. lee know.

soft cuts of sunlight filtered in through the lines of the blinds and you’re immediately met with the warmth of the bed beneath you. the shirt you were wearing wasn’t yours, and your hair still seemed done from the night before - with a wandering and curious gaze, your eyes filter over to the sight next to you, and your lips part in surprise.

minho, laying like an angel, as always. sleepy, soft skin blanketed by a thick comforter - lean muscle beneath. his hair was sprawled and he was still wearing makeup but if he wasn’t the prettiest sight in the world you didn’t know what was.

only problem of course, he was your friend. a long time friend. and you’d been into him for far too long to let this slide.

quickly, your legs slither out from the comforters, your toes finding the wood floors with ease as you move quietly to slink out of his bed, your gaze fixated on his sleeping face the entirety of your attempted escape. you pull on your skirt from the night before, grab your shoes in one hand before they slip from your grip and clatter to the floor quite ceremoniously.

your face winces up, shoulders and spine tight as he stirs, his eyes fluttering open.

he leans up on his elbows, eyes squinted as they adjust to the mild morning light coming from behind his blinds.

“what’re you doing?” he asks tiredly, slumping back into the mattress as you gather your shoes in your hand once more.

you push your hair from your face, huffing to gather your breath as you look at him. “i have to leave, minho.” you explain, feeling the tightness in your chest gather at the thought.

“you don’t, come back to bed-” he groans, stretching, his hand gently offered to you as he laid back down, eyes sleepy and voice croaky.

all of your hurt, after all of these years comes back to the forefront of your brain. the nights you spent crying, realizing he’d never want you, the years spent in pain in realization you’d never have him. and you can’t stop yourself from blurting what you truly felt, tired and defeated.

“you don’t want me.” you shrug like it’s easy, like there was no other way, only acceptance of what you’d manage to convince yourself of. your chest aches at the sound of your own statement, but you grip your shoes a little closer and swallow the dryness in your throat.

he leans up, slow. the crinkle of the comforter as he does so only fills you further with nervous anticipation. his eyes are still tired, angeled and low and he seems so pleased with what he says.

“i do want you.” his brows lift for a moment. not for a second does his eye contact waver - and you knew, a small but very true part of you knew he wasn’t lying but you couldn’t accept it. no it wouldn’t be that easy, and maybe it meant something different to him.

“no you don’t.” it’s gentle, defeated, barely rolled off your mouth when you say it and he feels your hurt - feels a bit of his own too though he wouldn’t like to admit it.

“i do.” he presses. his expression changes, one of understanding that melts at the ache in your chest. he softens, his hand now more of an extended invitation. almost like he was silently pleading with you to just take it - take it and trust him.

your fingertips tingle with the twinge of need that extends in your touch; they act before you can control them. the back of your hand raises, the supple skin of your palm meets his, and he wraps his hand around yours the moment you touch.

it feels so right - god it feels right. it nearly takes the breath away from you - even this was enough. just this.

he pulls you closer to him, his arm lifting to circle around your waist like it was the first time he’d ever done so; his touch and hold almost chivalrous. never for a second does he let his eyes leave your own, your face. his skin awakens prickles in your skin, your lungs take in breaths shakily - like every bit of you trembles at his touch.

he takes your hand, swallows it in his grip because he wants to ground you - just think of me. it’s like he says. i’m here. a promise. what he can’t muster to say in words - he tries desperately hard to say in the way he floods your senses. it’s bracing, whole.

“have for a while.” he admits softly, as your knee comes to press into the softness of his bed, getting closer by the second.

“why didn’t you say anything?” you ask, sitting with your legs folded over his own cloaked by the comforter.

he shakes his head gently, brows raised again, for a moment. “don’t know.” he musters, smiling for a second at the realization of his own sheer disbelief. why hadn’t he? fear? doubt?

“i should’ve said something too. ‘s okay.” you squeeze his hand before softly pulling it from his grasp, knowing he wasn’t the biggest fan of skinship. but to your surprise, he reaches back out for you.

he pulls your hand to his cheek, leaning into the touch with soft low gaze. his skin is warm, his guidance of your hand to his face is gentle, and you feel your heart lighten at the action, a small understanding smile on your lips. your shoes are disregarded, hair messy, but all you see is him. and all he wants is you.

3:43 pm. changbin.

“your friend,” your mom begins. “the one with the…” her voice drifts off, her hands gesturing in long strokes of her fingers from the top of her head to her mid-waist, repeating this action until you understood. the long hair, she was meaning.

“yeah,” you follow with their name.

“their parents were at the recital - did you know she’s going off to a performing arts high school?” and you swallow because of course you knew this, the whole school did. and now your hands were wringing together because you were nervous, anxious. and you just didn’t want to hear her actually say it or it’d confirm everything.

“why don’t you do something like that?

it was a frightening feeling and not at all fleeting. no. this sat with you, cooked inside your brain and marinated in a venomous concoction of long-lasting insecurity and self-doubt.

being loved by and loving changbin was a catalyst and returning friend of a face you said goodbye to some time ago. comparatively, you and changbin were very different people. a world-renown producer and artistic creator to one of the most popular kpop groups to ever rise in the industry, and you.

little you.

with nimble fingers half-good at crochet, a homemade recipe for lemon ginger tea, and a smile you convinced yourself most days was nice, you didn’t compare. it wasn’t sad, it took no convincing on your end, it just was.

suddenly consciousness regains in the forefront of your mind - and it slips from your lips before you can stop it.

“you don’t want me.” it’s said into the phone pressed against your cheek, you’re driving, and you’re nearly home. the rain is still falling from the morning - shining and wetting the roads up for traffic lights to reflect their bright colors on the throats of puddles.

on the other end of the line, changbin’s voice dies in his throat - too thoroughly stunned in the moment to even try speaking. his lips part, his brain thinks over the words you’ve just said to him, and he can’t puzzle himself as to why you’d ever say that.

“w-why do you want me-” a sharp intake of breath past your lips, a shudder, the slam of your car into park as the doors unlock and his very first instinct before anything else is to be there.

he says your name, speaks it with ease - familiarized himself with the way it feels in his mouth, and he stutters before speaking again.

“of course i want you- are-are you okay? talk to me, baby what’s going on?” he stiffens up in his chair and chan leaves the room to grab a call from an executive. right now the music doesn’t matter, the hours of work spent trying to delicately assemble a new track doesn’t matter, the only thing he can think about is you. why you’re saying this.

“i-it’s been-” you sniff, wiping your face at the pathetic notion of your own tears. “it’s been on my mind lately and i can’t stop thinking about it, bin.” your hand shakes with the grip on your phone, voice failing as you succumb to the tears. your shoulders shake, and you put a hand over your mouth to muffle the noise - as if you could hide it from changbin.

“baby, i’m here, i’m here, it’s okay. let me wrap this up with chan real quick and i’ll be over okay? you at your place?” he asks, voice soft and turned away from the mixing booth as chan walks back into the studio.

you nod, humming and confirming.

“i’ll be on my way in a minute, okay? i’ll text you when i’m headed over, baby.”

he leaves a minute later, driving like hell to get to you quick enough - and when he sprints up the stairs to your apartment he walks in to find the lights low and your form sitting on the couch - head resting in your hand.

“i’m here, baby. what’s wrong.” he doesn’t miss a beat - immediately he kneels at the couch, his hands coming to stroke your upper arms, coaxing you soothingly to open up to him. you shake your head, lips wobbling.

“god- it’s pathetic really, bin-” you almost chuckle in hindsight. “just…” you look down, feeling the warmth of his hands as he circles you.

there’s a brief intermittent pause. a realization. it washes over you and steals the words from your mouth and the thoughts along with them. his hands pause between your bodies as if he’s afraid - afraid to touch you - afraid to upset you. more big wet tears cascade down your cheeks, face flushed with heat and red, and you wish more now than ever that he’d just hold you.

“i-i don’t,,, i can’t-” you sniff. “compare to you.” it angers you to even speak it, knowing it’d hurt him. why.

“y-you don’t,,” you shake your head, your eyes filtering up to meet his own that look at you with such disbelief it’s almost sobering.

you were telling him this. like it was a fact, like it was your decision to make. he thinks maybe that’s why it hurt so much to hear you say it. like there was no alternative in your mind, nothing you could tell yourself to soothe this particular ache. like your mind was made up.

“baby, baby-” he stands to sit next to you on the couch, gently grabbing your legs to toss over his own, his hands coming to stroke the wetness from your cheeks. every touch of his skin on your own is terribly grounding and sobering, and for a moment your tears slow a bit as he cradles your face in his calloused hands.

“all i want is you. all i want. okay? i want all of you, on your best and worst days.” his arms circle you, hand resting at the back of your head to urge him into your shoulder. there’s where your tears fall now, arms grasping onto him and his shoulders. “there’s nothing you or anyone else could say to change my mind either. you’re perfect and i love you.”

you nod against him, breathing in shaky. “i love you. i love you so much.” you know he’ll say it as many times as he must before you accept it.

“love you too. love you.” you’ve become something like putty in his arms as he holds you. his hands soothe over your back, and you hear it; hear him. and believe him.

1:03 am. hyunjin.

your fingertips shake, fluttering over the textured fabric of the dress sitting daintily from your figure. a breath released, a breath inhaled, and in the next moment - it all comes crumbling; the image of yourself you brave for yourself. the falsities, the fabrications. in the reflection of the mirror you watch peripherally your face drop, turning to the side to run your hands over the curve of your body, trying to make it fit, trying to fit this idea into a box.

your hands drop slack, hitting the sides of your legs. your composure weakens and you feel a buckle in your ability to withstand it.

“fuck,,” you whisper, turnin away from the mirror with your hands on your face - fighting with might only a god could match to keep from crying.

too many tears were shed because of this very same reality, you didn’t want to give it the satisfaction of succumbing to it.

but your knees buckle - submitting to it, and you’re right back at square zero.

hyunjin was going to be home any moment now, this fact had drifted away from your thoughts as hot tears welled up in your eyes, only when you hear the door unlock do you tighten up like board was tied to your back. you stand, walking to the closet to change quickly. just as your fingers unzipped the back, tears rolling over your cheeks and jaw, hyunjin announces he’s walked into the bedroom with a soft, “i’m back, baby.”

his voice was soft, and he was completely oblivious and safe from the torrent of thoughts within your skull. he slinks in, your hands pause from unzipping your dress. “ah,” you sniff. “hey honey.”

his head turns in your direction at the sound of that.

he doesn’t have sights on you, you’re hidden behind the closet doors, but he makes his way over quietly, making a questioning type of humming noise, as if gently asking, “what?”

you keep your lips sealed, unable to conjure an excuse quick enough - he’s suspected you already and you know if he finds you like this, it’ll be a torrential downpour you won’t be able to stop - hyunjin had that effect.

“,,,babe? what’s-“ “d-don’t-“ your hand stops him from opening the closet door, you didn’t mean for the action to come across as aggressive it was - but you couldn’t let him see, and your heartbreaks at the idea.

“what’s wrong, angel? i won’t judge you, i promise.” he relaxes his hands on the closet doors, his eyes darting over it’s surface. there’s a bit of anxiety boiling up now for hyunjin, he hadn’t a clue what was going on but he expected the worst by far. all he wanted was to be there for you - know why you were upset and help.

“the dress i-… it doesn’t look good.” you sniff again, on the very edge once more as tears build more, faster.

“i’m sure you look beautiful, baby. it’s okay. can i come in?” he doesn’t press the door, but instead waits for your consent.

“s-some of the beading came off while i was putting it on and the seams look stretched-“ you take a breath shakily from your nose, “hyunjin-“ you say his name with reason, like saying it would be enough to soothe you. hyunjin feels his heart ache deep within his chest, his bottom lip pushed out slightly as he hears your hurt.

“you won’t… you won’t want me.”

it absolutely tears him up inside the way you say that.

he pushes the door with no fighting from you, eyes first and only meeting your eye contact. “all i want is you, okay? i want you.” he promises, hands a bit shaky as he smooths over your hair and holds your face, his movements a bit sporadic as he tries everything he can to get you to focus on him, on what he was saying.

“i love you.” he exhales. “i love you.” his hands shake your face the slightest amount to just try to get you to believe him.

“and you look so beautiful, baby.” he mumbles into your hairline, pulling you into his arms, his own eyes closed tight. his hands flatten against your back, running his palms smooth over your exposed skin. “you are so beautiful.”

in his arms, your crying slows. and the only reason he lets you go is to make a point.

“come. follow me.” he grasps your hand, letting you follow behind him with as he stands in your mirror.

“look at you.” he smiles softly, holding your hands in his own. “so pretty,” he whispers as if in thought, looking over your form as if it was a book to study.

you wipe your face, feeling hyunjin begin to walk behind you, his hand kept only our waist as he now towers behind you - warm hand resting on your hip. “i knew when i bought this you’d look beautiful but,, it’s more than that.” his voice is soft, only shared between the both of you.

you shake your head gently, feeling his hands steady on your zipper, stabilizing your side as he begins zipping you up - his eyes thoroughly focused on your form in the mirror as he does so. he says it like he doesn’t doubt it even for a moment. there’s not a moment he doesn’t think you’re outstanding, and not a moment he wishes to quiet his claim of your beauty.

“look at me,” he asks, gently lifting your chin to meet his eyes in the mirror. you let his soft touch gently guide you - his thumb swiftly drying a stray tear. his hand settles on the other side of your waist, holding you in his hands. his look is all too knowing, chin dropped, fully expectant on you understanding what he was thinking - and all you can do for a moment is chuckle, wiping your cheeks.

“you look so pretty, baby - this was made for you.” he promises, admiring the texture of the dress under his hands as he gently strokes your sides and smiles.

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rae-dabae · 4 months

Text

VOID JOURNEY❤︎︎

( long post ahead‼️‼️)

Y’all……. A HOE DID IT!! I ENTERED THE VOID!!!! but i didn’t manifest anything :(((. So basically i don’t really even remember much from last night all i remember is falling asleep and seeing complete blackness. Now i’ve been to the void tons of times without know i’ve been there. @b4ddprincess realization void post OPENED MY FUCKING EYES and got me to realize what the void ACTUALLY was. That darkness you’re surrounded by when you fall asleep and you can’t move or speak or do anything else but literally exist. When i was like 10 i woke up in the void without and it was completely dark but i wasn’t scared n shit it was really REALLY fucking peaceful and i just kinda stayed there. I always thought that darkness was apart of the dream i was supposed to have but once i realized THAT was the void……..🤦🏾‍♀️. Now i went through a wee lil phase of looking for methods n trying them out n them not resonating with me at all. I was stressing myself out BUT I KNEW that the void was easy because I’ve literally been there tons of times. Doubts were eating me alive and really fucking with my confidence and making doubt if I’ve even actually entered the void(we literally enter the void every time we sleep so basically we always are in the void). After like 3-4 weeks of me repeating the same cycle of believing i can enter, not entering and repeating the same old story over n over again. I had enough and started to slowly pull away from obsessing over the void and I focused onward what i wanted. The entire point of me even entering was so that i could manifest ALL my desires at once. I decided to find something that I personally liked and believed i could succeed with. I like sleep methods the best because they’re the most relaxing for me. I like Sats/ Lullaby method but i every time i would try it i would think “ oh it didn’t work because i didn’t affirm long enough lemme try again” so i was secretly fucking myself up because i had made up this assumption if i didn’t affirm long enough I wouldn’t get in. There was one “method” that i likes the best and it was commanding/ ordering your subconscious to take you to the void. I decided to test it out to see if you can really manifest anything just by commanding your subconscious and GIRLLL….. it works. One sunday afternoon i was heavily dreading going to school and just was NOT feeling it, so i decided to test my subconscious and see if it could cancel school for me or just get me not to go without begging my parents or faking sick. I went “ Hey subconscious, im not feeling school tomorrow, cancel it for me” and after that i forgot about it. Later that night my school posts on instagram that someone threatened to BOMB OUR SCHOOL and tons of kids were protesting they cancel (being the piece of shit trashy stank ass school they are they didn’t cancel). All my friends were protesting not going cuz im not tryna get Bombed frl. I called my mom about it and she told me I didn’t have to go to school if i didn’t want to. Then I remembered what i told my subconscious and i went “ DAMNN subconscious i know i said i didn’t wanna go but BOMB THREATS??”( i don’t think I manifested the bomb threats because as much as i dread that place i would never even try doing that) that was the test that proved to me that subconscious really will do anything you tell it….insane. BACK TO LAST NIGHT ( i got distracted Srry) i commanded my subconscious before going to sleep to wake me up in the void but because of my loud ass african mother i couldn’t sleep so i waited until i felt tired and fell asleep. When i woke up i was still in my bedroom and i had thought i didn’t get in but then i tried remember if i dreamed last night and i didn’t remember having one. Actually i remember just being in complete darkness for a while then the rest is blurry. Then it hit me. I ENTEREDD. I know i had entered because it was the same feeling i got when i was 10 and entered. Anyways now i know how to enter and what works for me so STAY TUNED FOR A SUCCESS STORRYYY!!!( ill get into full detail and give some advice)

💕💕Bye my lovess!! 💕💕

#law of assumption #void #void state #void success #manifesation #neville goddard

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amica-aenigmata-naboo · 3 months

Text

Spawn

Astarion x Y/N - drabble - 1K WC

Masterlist

Warnings: y/n death & resurrection, Astarion being in his feels, smidge of angst but mostly just hurt comfort fluff

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

You writhed in pain on your bedroll. Astarion and Shadowheart moved quickly, taking off your armor. Karlach kept her hand pressed firmly over the gushing wound on your thigh. Gale, Shadowheart, and Wyll all tried to muster their powers; you could see it in their eyes. The battle against the Murder Tribunal was as close as you’ve come to dying. You could feel your cracked ribs shift every time you tried to suck in a breath. The arrow hole in your thigh was pulsing. And the slash across your chest was the most concerning as it was rather deep. Nothing vital cut but your severed flesh needed to be reunited ASAP. Your head was spinning and everything felt fuzzy and overwhelming. You wanted to scream, it was all too much. You looked sickly, the blood loss becoming more apparent by the minute. Everything seemed to be moving in slow motion. You slowly turned your gaze to Astarion. He looked so scared, you had never seen that emotion across his face. You tilted his head up a bit with a weak hand.

You smiled the best you could as you studied him. Your vision was going in and out of focus, you felt so light. “So beautiful… little star…” you slurred as you watched his eyes water.

“Somebody fucking do something!” Astarion yelled. He heard your heart slowing down and it was the worst sound he’d heard in 200 years.

When your eyes fluttered closed and you stopped mumbling to him; when he heard your heart go still. Everyone stopped their movements, knowing you were gone. Eyes fell upon Astarion but his were glued to you.

“Darling… wake up, let’s go home… you’re so cold we need to get you warm.” He rubbed his frigid hands up and down your arms trying to warm your lifeless corpse. “Please my love… don’t leave… I don’t want to be alone again…” tears cascaded down his cheeks. He pulled you into him, rocking you both back and forth as he sobbed into your hair.

——————————-

Astarion sat in the tent with you, everyone leaving him to grieve. He wanted to pray to any gods who would listen but he knew what a waste of time that was. His throat was dry, it’s all he could feel physically. And he hated the fact that your bloodied corpse smelt delicious to him. He pulled you back into him. He kissed over your neck before begrudgingly sinking his teeth in. He knew this was wrong but he also knew he was weak and needed strength to bring you back. An idea settled in his mind as he sucked your frozen crimson into him. He pulled away abruptly. He bit into his wrist, wincing at the pain a bit. He let his blood, his poison drip into your mouth.

“Come on… work damn you…” he said, pleading with everything he had in him. You remained motionless. Astarion stood on shaky legs, he felt sick he couldn’t be in the same room as you right now. He failed you and it was devouring him. He walked out of the tent, leaving you.

————————------

You awoke with a start, sitting upright. You weren’t breathing, your heart wasn’t beating. What was this? Every sense of yours felt dialed to eleven. It was difficult to think, your mind flitting everywhere. Above all you felt your throat and how it was constricting, dry as a desert. You felt compelled to hunt, your jaw ached. Your head felt cinched with pressure and you had no idea why.

“Come back to me.” A voice echoed in your head, it was a command and before you knew it your legs were taking you somewhere. Nobody saw you leave your tent as they had all turned in for the night. Astarion however was perched down near the lake. Gazing across it, soft sniffles and sobs escaped him as you creeped up behind him.

“Star…” you whispered.

He whipped around, legs fumbling for traction and he raced to you, pulling you into a hug. “Thank the gods you’re alright!” He said as he kissed your cheeks.

“Something’s wrong…” you said, voice cracking.

His eyebrows furrowed, “What’s wrong little love?” That’s when he saw it. Your eyes, dark yet with glowing irises. Just like that of a vampire spawn. You had defeated Cazador two days ago, Astarion had no master. He was a full vampire. His desperate plea was living before his eyes and he had no idea what to make of it.

“I’m a spawn…” you whispered looking up at him. He could hear the pain in your words.

“I didn’t think it would work! I just… I had to try and save you…” he defended.

You absorbed what he said before you spoke, “And what now? I belong to you? Obey you?” You spat the word “obey”.

Astarion laughed to himself ever so slightly before biting into his already healed wrist. You immediately reached for him, sucking down gulps of him, feeling powerful. Astarion had to practically rip you off of him.

“I’m sorry.” You said as you rolled the last of his thick blood over your tongue. A warmth settled in your stomach before you became permanently cold.

“Now you’re not a spawn. You didn’t actually think I would keep you as my spawn did you?” He said with soft eyes.

You sighed, “What was it you told me? Vampires are power hungry creatures?… I… I was just scared. I’m sorry for doubting you.”

“Don’t be, I would have thought the same.” He pulled you in, kissing your head as you leaned against his chest. It was so quiet between the two of you. No breaths, no heart beats.

“I’m still scared…” you whispered.

“Of what little love?” He asked, leaning back so he could gaze at you.

“Being a vampire… what if I hurt somebody?” You ask in a hushed tone.

“It is entirely possible given the line of work we are in…” he said, trying to make you smile.

You cracked a small smile but concern never left your eyes.

“You’ve got this darling, and I’ve got you. I’ll take care of you, always.” He spoke, holding your cheeks and keeping his eyes locked with yours.

You nodded, hands coming up to hold his wrists as he kissed your forehead.

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

Naboo's Note:

Hello! Thank you all for 200 followers! What a milestone! I'm absolutely thrilled and beyond thankful. I really enjoy writing for you guys, its become a great comfort and a great hobby. As always, thank you for the likes, comments, reblogs, and requests! XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

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themultifandomgal · 1 month

Note

Hey I got a request for peaky blinders

So basically tommy is a single dad to a girl she is 2 years old and you got you was I’ll and tommy was in a meeting and you was bored she u walk. In and tommy yelled at you So you run off and started crying you find John and Arthur and told they what happened how u was I’ll and they find tommy to tell him he was a dick about yelling at you then he told u he was sorry

Hope that make sense x

Tommy Shelby- Just Want To Protect You

I hope this is what you wanted.

YN and Tommy haven’t been dating all that long, she knew he was a single dad and his daughter, Mary, came first no matter what. YN also knew that he was a dangerous man, but she didn’t care. To her Tommy was a caring man who loved his family (even if he didn’t show it), all he wanted to do was keep YN and his daughter safe.

Unfortunately Mary had been ill with a cold the last week so while Tommy was in meetings YN would take on the roll of looking after her, however today YN woke up feeling rough. She has a headache, stuffy nose and scratchy throat, but still being a mother figure to the young girl YN takes on the task of looking after her and and house while Tommy is in his office working.

“I want daddy”

“I know” YN replies bouncing the crying girl in her arms “but daddy is busy. Why don’t you take a nap. You might feel better and when you wake up, daddy might be finished”

“Ok” Mary sniffles snuggling into YN’s neck. YN takes Mary to her bedroom and puts her down. She stays with Mary until she’s asleep. Feeling rough herself she decides to go and have a nap herself, however due to her blocked nose and now cough, YN gives up after half an hour.

Making her way down stairs she decides to make herself and Tommy a cup of tea. Feeling bored YN knocks on Tommys office door before walking in

“Hi love, I made you a drink” YN says walking in placing the tea on his desk, Tommy just grunts in response “Mary is asleep, still has this awful cold. I said maybe once she wakes up you’d be finished with work”

“And why would you tell her that?” Tommy looks up to YN

“I just thought that you could have a break, you can sit in your chair and work all the time. Mary misses you”

“I can’t just stop working because Mary wants me to”

“I’m not saying that. You’ve been in here since 6 this morning. It’s now 1 and you’ve not had a break or anything to eat”

“I can’t”

“Fine. Guess I’ll be looking after your sick child all day again”

“I didn’t ask you to”

“Then who will? Your to busy with you fucking businesses to even notice that she’s been crying for you this morning”

“Don’t you swear at me!” Tommy yells standing up “Mary isn’t even your daughter so if she’s so much of a bother why don’t you just go!” Feeling taken back YN takes in what Tommy just said

“Fine” YN replies keeping her tears back.

Asking one of the maids to keep an eye on Mary, YN leaves the house and makes her way to the Garrison where she sees Arthur and John

“YN” John waves his brothers girlfriend over

“Hi” she sadly says

“What’s wrong?”

“What’s our brother done this time?” Arthur sighs

“It’s just that, I don’t feel well but ive been taking care of his daughter who’s also ill. When I told him to have a break from work he just blew up”

“Our brother is an idiot YN, I’ll speak with him” John replies

“No don’t. He will know I’ve spoken to you and he will probably have a fit. I’m gonna get a drink”

That evening YN sits her home with a book in her hands, when there is a knock at her door. Putting her book down she heads over feeling confused to who could be at her front door. Opening it up there is Tommy holding flowers in his hands

“I’m a dick I know. I’m sorry”

“You better come in” YN opens up her door wider so Tommy could enter “where’s Mary?”

“At home. Ada has her. I know I shouldn’t have shouted at you, your ill and been looking after my daughter. You didn’t have to but you did. I just get so scared when it comes to you and Mary. I just want to keep you safe and we have a problem with the business. I didn’t want you involved, I didn’t want to worry you”

“Tom, I’m your girlfriend. If we want this to work you can’t shut me out”

“I know I know. Arthur and John knocked some sense into me. Let me make it up to you. Let me cook supper for you. Treat you like a queen”

“I’d like that” YN smiles.

#peaky blinders #peaky blinders reader #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders imagine #tommy shelby x y/n #tommy shelby x you #tommy shelby x oc #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby

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samandcolbyownme · 24 days

Text

Summary: not a request - “Reader finds out they’re pregnant and freaks out.”

Warnings: pregnancy talk, pregnant!reader, crying, fluff

Enjoy!

══════════════════

You stood in the bathroom, hands on the counter as you stare at the second and really dark pink line that appeared almost instantly.

You could feel your stomach turning, which has been happening the last week - to which you now know the answer to.

“Fuck.” You rest a hand on your forehead, “Okay.” You breathe out, “Fuck fuck fuck.” Your voice turns into a whispered squeal, which is full of panic.

Johnnie suddenly breaks you from your panicked state by coming through the front door yelling, “Babe! Babe! Come out here. If you’re sleeping wake up!”

You wipe your face, “Oh, fuck.” You sniffle, trying to pull yourself together as quick as you can, “Goddamn it, Johnnie.”

You also have an answer as to why you’ve been so grumpy lately.

You scatter to cram the paper evidence from the pregnancy test box and throw it in the trash bin.

You bend down with a groan and pull it out, trying to cover it up as best you could.

You were scared.

You could feel your heart racing quick and you felt like you were going to throw up. You felt very overwhelmed and you eventually end snapping on Johnnie.

Johnnie knocks on the door, “Hey, babe. You in there? I gotta tell ya something.” You press your lips together, desperately hoping your voice sounds normal, “I’ll be right out, baby.”

“Come on.” He whines, “I’m so excited to tell you!”

Johnnie’s persistent-ness is pushing you closer to that breaking point. You close your eyes and take a slow deep breath before you stand up, walking over to the door.

You pull it towards you, keeping it closed slightly and your body blocking the counter, “Johnnie. I said give me a second.”

He stops and stares at you, “Um. Okay?” He says plainly, “I don’t understand what that was all about.”

You sigh, “I just.. I need a second, okay?”

“What’s going on?” Johnnie asks, now finally noticing your puffy eyes from crying, “Why are you crying?” He steps closer and your hand on the door knob tightens, “I’ll tell you then..”

“No, tell me now.. if you’re.. in trouble, I would like to know.” He reaches up to touch your face but the thought of him not wanting anything to do with you once he knows makes you wince.

Johnnie notices your wince and he shakes his head, stepping closer to the door, “No, seriously. What’s going on.”

You just burst into tears, completely letting your boiling emotions take over. You step back from the door and cover your face.

Johnnie moves to you, taking you into his arms and kissing your head, “Hey, hey.” He whispers as you gasp for air, completely breaking down.

“Y/n.” He says, his voice louder, “y/n.”

He looks around, making sure nothing was going on. His does a double take once his eyes move over the positive pregnancy test.

He reaches out, sliding it closer, “When is this from?”

You sniffle against his chest, “t-today.” You cry out, word vomit coming up and out, “I-im so-o sor-ry, John-nie.”

He set the test down and cups your cheeks, “Why are you sorry?” He’s starting to panic more the longer you take to say anything, “Babe.”

“I-I know you don’t want kids right now.. a-and an-d I ju-“ you breathe out, sobbing into his chest.

“Y/n, baby. Sweetheart.” Johnnie grabs your face, “look at me.” You look up at him, sniffling and gasping for air and he sighs, “Calm down. Take a breather.”

He has you take a deep breath with him and he nods, “Good. Okay. So tell me.” He reaches back, slipping the test off the counter and holds it up, “Is this why you’ve been weirdly sick this last week and a half?”

You smirk, still a mess from crying, “y-yes.”

“I’m not mad, alright. I mean. I was mad that you wouldn’t let me come in but now I get it.” He kisses your forehead, “A baby wasn’t in the plans, but does anything really ever go to plan?”

He’s calmed you down enough now and you blow out air, “I was.. genuinely scared you weren’t going to want me anymore.”

He rolls his eyes, “Please, no one can take you away from me.” He pulls you in, “I can’t wait to see you with a little baby belly.”

You laugh slightly, “Oh.” You look up at him, “What did you want to tell me?”

He bats the air, “nothing is as important as this.” He sighs, “we were supposed to go to diner to celebrate a future collab with some people, but I’m not going.”

“Is who I’m thinking of?” You sniffle and Johnnie nods. Your eyes grow wide and you start to tear up again, “Oh Johnnie! I’m so proud of you.”

You reach up and wrap your arms around his neck, hugging him tight, “Why aren’t you going to dinner though? Seriously, I’ll be fine.”

“Do you feel like going?” He asks and you shake your head, “I mean, I would like to but I really don’t feel like it.”

“I’m not leaving you alone, so if you want to stay home I’m staying home and you’re not just going to go because of me.” Johnnie says and you smile, “Only if you really want to. I don’t want you to miss out on anything because of me.”

He puts his hand over your mouth, “Uh uh uh, we’re done with the conversation now.” He leans back, “I’ll be right back.”

“Where are you going?” You ask and he looks back at you as he walks out the door, “I’m going to tell Jake and Tara to come over so we can tell them.”

You smiles and laid a hand on your stomach, mentally smacking yourself for having a huge meltdown over literally nothing.

Hormones, you think with an eye roll. You make your way out to the living room so you can comfortably wait for Jake and Tara to arrive.

══════════════════

Thanks for reading! Ilysm! As always, let me know how you liked it! 🖤

Likes and reblogs are majorly appreciated!

#samandcolby-ownme #snippet #Johnnie Guilbert #johnnie guilbert one shots #fluff #Johnnie Guilbert fluff #johnnie guilbert one shot #fluff one shot #fluffy #johnnie guilbert x reader #johnnie guilbert x you #Johnnie Guilbert x pregnant!reader #pregnant!reader #pregnant!y/n #Two Little Lines #one shot #johnnie and jake

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shooting-love-arrows · 5 months

Note

Your aesthetic is just so beautiful dear!! i love how you organize everything, how pretty you write !!

Can i request maybe a yan! mortician? I don't really know the word in english waaa (⁠´⁠;⁠︵⁠;⁠`⁠)

kisses. mwah mwah take care of yourself ok?? 🎐

Dear Anon,

Thank you, dear. It’s really nice of you to say. Your english is very good so no need to worry. Sending you lots of kisses and thank you for the patience. P.S I’m reminding myself to drink water regularly :)

@shooting-love-arrows

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄! 𝐕𝐈𝐂𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐀𝐍! 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐍

PAIRING: 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐕𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐧! 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐧 x reader [gender not mentioned/specified/implied] SYNOPSIS: General headcanons/some concerning habits of his. Tw. yandere walking red flag, creepy yandere, intentional poisoning, delusion, attachment issues (?), nudity but not nsfw.

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Who treats you like a corpse rather than a living, breathing, human being. 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐕𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐧! 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐧 is so used to being surrounded by dead that sometimes he forgets you are in fact alive. It shows during those moments when he starts doing most simple things for you, like dressing you up before you wake up; when you stay still for to long, he’ll carry you around bridal style because he forgets that you can move on your own or forgets to prepare you a portion of food, because corpses don’t eat. Those moments scares you the most, because you’re never sure if he snaps out of it.

“Hm…? Oh dear…” 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐕𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐧! 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐧 muttered and tilted his head when he realized he’s been carrying you around the funeral parlor for a while. “It seems like I have done that again.” Not that he was complaining. After all, he’s got to hold you in his arms.

Who regularly poisons you. He adds small doses of the earlier crushed pills he originally brought in the pharmacy to your food. Just enough to make you sick, weak and confused. 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐕𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐧! 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐧 feels his heart squeezing painfully everytime time he sees you in this state but at the same time, he believes that what he's doing is for a good cause. You must stay in the house. It’s not safe in the stress! Not to mention those people who could harm you (or worse, take you away from him!). This just can’t and won’t happen. He’d rather be the one to bring harm to you and nurse you back to health. Your place is here, in your shared house, with him.

“It seems like you are ill again, sweetling. Lay down, you need rest.” 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐕𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐧! 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐧 proceeds to tuck you in and kiss your sweaty forehead lovingly. “Let me take care of you, sweetling. I will make everything better.” He whispered into your skin decorated with glistening pearls of sweat, smiling softly.

Who always has to carry a piece of you on him. He just can’t part with you. Be it before or after you’re officially his. He has a silver locket with a coil of your hair in it, a ribbon that fell out of your outfit tied around his wrist or a photo of you (especially the one he took of you). Those are few examples but anything that belongs to you he’ll gladly take to carry around. This way you can always be with him.

“What beautiful hair you have, sweetling.” 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐕𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐧! 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐧 laughed in glee. He was in his funeral parole, staring at the coil of your hair he secretly snipped off when you were asleep. It was placed neatly in a pure silver locker he always carried around his neck. “The prettiest.”

Who has a habit of photographing your nude body. It depends on his mood whether it’ll turn sexual or not, but what doesn’t change is that he’s always in awe of your body. 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐕𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐧! 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐧 saw many naked bodies, more or less beautiful. But you…you are perfect in every way. He feels like it’s his obligation to document that beauty. So usually, you’ll find yourself lying in the coffin panelled with silk, naked as the day you were born. And so the photo session continues. And when he’s done…? 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐕𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐧! 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐧 will lean over you, looming like a grim reaper ready to whisk you away into the underworld, and whisper sweet nothings, prizes and compliments to you while his eyes admire every inch of your body.

“Keep still, sweetling.” 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐕𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐧! 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐧 adjusted his trusty camera so it’ll focus on you. You kept shivering from the cold that keeps nipping at your skin. Not even the silk you were laying upon helped to ease your worries and shame for you had no choice but to be vulnerable and exposed towards your captor. “Perfect. Close your eyes and stay in this position.”

Who kisses the spot on your chest where your heart beats. It happens first thing in the morning and the last thing at night. When you’re laying in bed, in your nightclothes, he’ll lower the front of yours and gently place a kiss above your heart. He imagines that it’s his way of pouring his undying love straight into your heart. It always sends a pleasurable shiver down his spine.

“I was born to love you…” kiss “I am breathing for you…” kiss “I am living for you…” kiss

All of the published posts on this account/blog belongs to @shooting-love-arrows. I do not consent to my works being: translated, stolen, published or reposted on this and other sites. Likes, reblogs, comments are highly appreaciated. Thank you.

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 2 months

Text

The Farmer's Daughter 8

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Walter Marshall

Summary: You notice a peculiar change in a family friend. (short!reader, sorry size kink is out)

Part of the Backwoods AU

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

You finally manage to quell your sobs. A slight trickle stains your cheeks and falls onto Walter’s shirt. You sniffle and reach to wipe your nose with the back of your hand. As you do, your fingers brush against his chest.

You hear his heartbeat, steady as you’re anything but. He’s warm and soft and sturdy. You feel a sudden rush of guilt for spilling all this out on him. You slowly sit up, pulling away as Walter gently, almost reluctantly, slackens his embrace.

“I’m sorry, I–” you raise your head but find your words smothered.

You don’t realise what’s going on at first. Walter’s hand cradles your face as his lips press to yours, tilting your chin up as his thumb slides under it. You hum in surprise, eyes round as the scent of his sweat invades your nose.

You put your hand flat to his chest and push. You bring your other up and shove until he lets you go. His arm falls away and you turn, shifting and sliding off the step. You stand, dizzy and confused, clutching your splitting head.

“I… I’m sorry,” he stammers as he rises too.

You run past him up the steps, legs wobbling, skull pulsing from the hangover of your grief. You push the door inwards and clamour inside. You don’t stop. You barrel upstairs and down to your door, swinging inside with a careless snap of wood on wood.

You lean on the door and slowly slide down, knees bent to your chest as you hang your head forward and shield it with your arms. You hear shuffling and a set of hinges groan. Footsteps pad quietly outside your door.

“Honey, are you okay?” Your mom calls through.

“Yes,” you force out evenly, the effort further thumping in your temples.

“Oh, uh, I’ll be downstairs,” she says, her voice silty with sleep, “you in the mood for coffee?”

“No thank you,” you eke out.

You wait until she’s gone before you can breathe again. It can’t be real. That can’t have happened. You really didn’t believe it when your mother said it. Walter? Why would he ever think of you like that? And now? Of all times?

Your father is sick, your mother is in shambles, and life is already so complicated. It isn’t that he’s a bad guy, he’s nice and helpful and all of that. It’s just that you’re already scared and lost. It would only make things so much more complicated.

🌾

You stay in your room for the rest of the night. When your mother comes to check on you, you tell her you have cramps. Your period isn’t due anytime soon but PMS can be a bitch. Just as much as life can.

She leaves a plate on your nightstand regardless and you thank her. You’re not very hungry and only pick at it before giving up on the meal. You wallow in your restless discomfort. Your head pounds until you’re nearly delirious.

You fall into a sleep less than refreshing. Your headache follows you into the void and its shadow greets you with the daylight. You wake and roll over, unready for the day but knowing you must face it. You wash and dress and head down to pretend everything is okay. Again.

You start on breakfast as your mom has yet to appear. You don’t mind, it keeps you busy. You count out the eggs and strips of bacon, a few sausages too. You stack a plate with bread ready to toast and yawn over the percolator as you put it on to boil.

You hear tires and an engine. You go rigid, frozen as you stand at the counter. What do you do? Go get your mother? Help her with dad? Or Timothy? He can keep Walter distracted.

Too late. There’s footsteps on the porch then a tap on the frame of the screen door. You panic and clear your throat. Nothing happened. Nothing’s changed.

“Come on in,” you call and pull out a skillet to heat up.

The front door opens and your ears tweak as you listen to his movement. Deliberate and drawn out, as if he’s also avoiding you. You keep your back to the door as you work at the stove, adding a touch of oil to the pan.

He enters, his shadow flickering over the wall, and you sense him. Is he watching you? You refuse to look back and check in fear of being caught. You grab the sausage and the bacon and lay them out on an oven sheet.

“Good morning,” Walter says.

“Good morning,” you return in a small squeak.

He’s silent. Neither of you know what to say. Each time you try to think of something, the friction of your lips remind you of the feel of his. You hadn’t been thinking in the moment but you remember how soft but determined he was.

Why would he do that? After you were just bawling on his shoulder? Seeing you like that, a mess, vulnerable, half-broken? Your stomach knots as you keep your hands moving and eyes averted.

“How are you?” He asks in a strained timbre.

“Fine,” you answer sharply, taking a breath to ease your tone, “you?”

“Tired,” he says, “you need any help?”

He steps forward and you shy away. You stop yourself from going any further and shake your head, “I got it.”

“Right, I…” he begins.

“Alright, Patty,” your mom’s voice wafts from upstairs, “that’s it. You’re doing so well.”

“Oh, I gotta–”

You turn with the spatula and nearly run into Walter as he also moves towards the door. You stop as you face each other, wavering as you stare. His jaw squares and his cheek twitches, his eyes sparkling.

“You’re cooking. I’ll help.”

“Really, you do too much–”

“I know,” he agrees staunchly and turns away, “too damn much.”

He strides out and you stand there. What does he mean? Too much of what? Well, you can’t ask from him. He has helped more than he should, but is that what he means? Or does he mean… that?

He wouldn’t just walk away because of that, would he?

#walter marshall #dark walter marshall #dark!walter marshall #walter marshal x reader #drabble #au #backwoods au #series #the farmer's daughter #night hunter

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wintersoldiersoul · 6 months

Note

Reader comes back from a mission with Natasha really sick. Bucky steps up and takes care of the reader. They don’t want to get Bucky sick, but he’s literally not worried about it because, ya know, super soldier. So he’s able to take care of them and stay with them and cuddle.

Bucky was sat on the couch with a book, trying to pass the time until you got home. You had been gone for 4 days on a mission with Natasha and while it was pretty low stakes, he was still holding his breath until you got home. He missed you terribly, especially since he didn’t have any missions or any real work to do while you were gone. He just tried to fill each day as best as he could until his doll returned home safe and sound.

He smiled when he heard his phone ring, expecting it to be you for your daily phone call that you made whenever you got a minute. But it wasn’t you. It was Natasha.

“Nat?” He asked, answering. “Is everything okay?”

He heard the redhead sigh on the other end. “Yeah, we’re okay. We’re gonna be home in an hour or so, but just wanted to give you a heads up, Y/N is pretty sick.” He went on alert. Whenever you were sick, even if it was just a small cold, Bucky went into full nurse mode, waiting on you hand and foot. He hated seeing you in any sort of pain or discomfort even if it was just an inevitable part of being a human. “Is she okay?”

“Um,” she hesitated. In the background, Bucky could hear you groaning. “She will be. I may need some help when we get here, though.”

“Okay. I’ll be ready.”

Bucky spent the next hour preparing things for you. He made a big pot of soup, put on the tea kettle, changed the sheets on the bed so that they were fresh and clean for you. He laid out clothes and gathered every type of medicine he could find. When he heard the roar of the jet, he headed up to the roof ready to do whatever he had to help you.

Natasha stepped off the jet, greeting him with a smile. “She’s still in there,” she explained. “I don’t know if she can walk on her own.”

Bucky nodded and headed into the jet. You were curled up with your eyes closed. Your face was flushed and you were shivering. Bucky approached you like you were a small, scared animal. “Baby?” he whispered, sitting down next to you and stroking your hair.

“Hmmm,” you mumbled. He could tell you had a fever and you were definitely out of it.

“Can I take you inside? Get you to bed?”

You opened your eyes. “N-no,” you said through chattering teeth. “D-don’t wanna get you s-sick.”

Bucky smiled gently. “Honey, I can’t get sick, remember?” Usually whenever you were sick, you didn’t worry about passing it on to Bucky. You knew his supersoldier immune system prevented him from catching anything you had. The fact that you didn’t remember that right now told Bucky just how out of it you were.

“Oh.”

“Come here, baby,” Bucky said, scooping you into his arms as gently as possible. You were like dead weight, barely able to keep your head up. “Thanks, Nat,” he said once he’d gotten you off the jet. “I got it from here.”

He set you down on the bed, trying to keep you from falling asleep. He knew you needed to rest but you were still in your uniform, covered in dirt and grime from the mission. “What hurts, darlin’?”

You groaned, letting your head fall on his shoulder. “Everything. Head, throat, stomach. My whole body aches. Feel dizzy.”

“Can I run a bath for you? You’ll feel a little better if you’re clean.” Your only response was another groan and Bucky laughed. “Alright, stay here. I’m gonna run you a bath, okay? I’ll be right back.”

You fell asleep in the span of time between Bucky running the bath and coming to get you. He hated to wake you up but he had to get you clean of the mission that was clinging to your skin. He shook your shoulder gently, once again scooping you up and carrying you to the bathroom. He sat you down on the toilet and helped you get undressed before doing so himself. He had to remember to thank Stark for the giant bathtub.

He got you into the bath and wrapped his arms around you so that your back was leaning against his chest. Lovingly, he ran his hands up and down your arms. “Baby how long have you been feeling sick for?”

“I dunno,” you mumbled. “Couple days?”

His eyes widened. “What? Why didn’t you come home? You know any of us could have stepped in on this one and taken your place.”

“Didn’t wanna be a disappointment,” you murmured. Bucky’s heart broke for you. You were such an overachiever, such a people pleaser. You constantly put the needs and wants of everyone else in front of your own. You never wanted to let anyone down, even if it was at the cost of your own health. “M sorry,” you continued.

“Shhh, it's okay. I just worry about you. You’re gonna kill yourself one day trying to keep everyone happy.”

“Can’t help it,” you said with your eyes closed.

“We’ll talk about it later, okay? Let’s just get you clean and into bed right now.” He spent the next 20 minutes washing your body and hair, taking his time to massage your scalp the way you loved. He spread the conditioner over your ends, letting it sit for a few minutes the way you taught him. By the time he was done, you had fallen asleep.

Bucky picked you up and got you dressed in one of his sweatshirts and your favorite pair of sweatpants. Your eyes fluttered open as he set you down in the bed. “Bucky, no. You’re gonna get sick!” You repeated your concern from earlier, worrying him by just how out of it you truly were.

“No, I’m not, honey,” he said, moving your hair out of your face. “Can you open your mouth for me, sweetie? I’m just gonna take your temperature.”

He looked at the thermometer with concern after it beeped. “You’ve definitely got a bad fever, babe. Your temp is 103.7.” He put his metal hand on the back of your neck, knowing the cold would feel good on your burning skin.

You hummed at the feeling, the vibranium sending waves of relief over your skin. “Wanna sleep.”

Bucky smiled at you. “You can sleep, baby. Can I hold you?”

“No, you’ll get sick!” You repeated for the third time.

“Baby, I won’t get sick. That I can guarantee, okay? Can you do me a favor and remember that I won’t get sick?”

You nodded and curled up against him, resting your head on his chest. His strong arms wrapped around you, stroking your shoulder gently. “I love you, Princess. Get some rest, okay?”

“Love you,” you said into his neck before drifting off into a deep sleep.

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flowerfan2 · 1 year

Text

Steve doesn’t talk about his nightmares. He assumes they all get them, it’s clearly just something you have to accept after going through the shit that they’ve gone through. He deals with it, like he deals with everything.

One night he wakes from a nightmare and there’s someone in his room, and he’s frozen and he’s terrified and he can’t reach his bat. He feels like his chest is about to explode until a second later when the figure moves in front of the window, hands held up in front of him and eyes wide with concern.

“Eddie,” Steve says, his voice scraping out of his body. “What – what are you doing here?”

Eddie cocks his head. “Many, many vodka shots, couldn’t drive home, crashed on your couch, etc. etc. You don’t remember?”

Steve does, now, the sound of Eddie’s voice bringing reality back, and he nods. “Yeah, uh, so many vodka shots. But…?” he trails off, gesturing to his bedroom.

“I heard you.” Eddie shrugs, then climbs onto the bed like it’s no big deal, shoving aside the messy blankets and sitting cross-legged next to Steve. For a moment he’s backlit by the light outside, his curls a frizzy halo. “Nightmares suck. You okay?”

Steve sucks in a long breath and pushes his sweaty hair out of his face with a shaking hand. “Uh, sure.” Eddie doesn’t look convinced. He heard him. “What, um, what did I say?”

Because sometimes the dreams are about things that actually happened, like him and his friends being attacked by monsters, and sometimes they’re about things that didn’t actually happen but almost did, like Eddie and Max dying. Sometimes they’re about brand-new horrors that he hasn’t even experienced yet. His mind is impressive that way.

“You just screamed a lot.” Eddie holds his gaze, and Steve feels sick to his stomach. Probably explains why he wakes up with his throat hurting so often. Benefits of an empty house.

Eddie shifts, all limbs, and lays down on his side, head propped on one hand. Steve’s plaid comforter is pushed down by his feet, and Eddie tucks his bare toes underneath it. “Do you want to talk about it?” he asks quietly.

Steve fights the urge to bury his face in his pillow. “I can’t.”

Eddie accepts this and rolls to his back, hands clasped over his chest briefly until they start waving around as he speaks. “I get nightmares all the time. Always have. Used to be they were about regular little kid stuff, then all the normal high school shit – showing up somewhere without your clothes on, whatever. Wayne was always real nice about it, didn’t make me feel embarrassed, just kind of sat with me or brought me water, you know.” Eddie glances over to Steve’s bedside table where there’s already a glass of water, and he meets Steve’s eyes.

“No, I’m good,” Steve says, with a little snort. “Do you, um, have different nightmares now?”

“Oh, fuck yeah,” Eddie says, turning back on his side to fully face Steve. “I keep thinking they’ll be great material for song lyrics, or campaigns, once they stop scaring the living daylights out of me. Worst ones are where I’m getting bitten over and over by those god damned demobats, man. Fucking sharp-ass teeth, ripping me apart. Hurts like hell, can’t believe how much it hurts. And that thing where you wake up and still feel it, right, like the pain is real for a minute even though it’s just a dream? Like a pain-echo? God, I hate that.”

“Me too,” Steve says, and he takes in a deep breath and lets it out. “It’s like that for me, too. Really scary.” He stretches, feeling some of the tension leave his body, and relaxes down into his pillow. He no longer feels like he’s on a rollercoaster without a safety bar. He’s not alone. “Thanks.”

Eddie studies him, then reaches down and tugs on the sheet, eventually getting part of it untangled, and pulls it up over Steve’s legs.

Steve knows what’s going to happen next, but he suddenly can’t let it. Without thinking too much about it, he reaches over and touches his hand to where Eddie’s lies between them on the bed. “Would you stay?”

His heart is beating hard in his chest for a reason having nothing at all to do with nightmares, when Eddie twines his fingers together with Steve’s and nods, a shy smile tugging at his mouth. “Yeah.”

#Steddie #Steddie fic #Steddie ficlet #Eddie Munson #Steve Harrington #Stranger Things #Stranger Things fic #Stranger Things ficlet #Steve x Eddie

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leqonsluv3r · 1 month

Note

hi! hope you’re doing well <3 so this past months i have been feeling really bad and going to the doctor he said one of the possibilities would be cancer (im scared as fuck) so could you write some hcs about how leon would deal with it? i guess im just searching for some comfort since im a little scared lol i love your write hope you have a great day <3

trepidation

—leon!kennedy x reader, a headcanon list

masterlist taglist

an: i’m so sorry anon, i really hope it isn’t cancer. i did my best with this one and it took priority because it struck a chord with me. you can imagine whatever leon you desire, i used re!2 for aesthetic purposes. pls let me know the results anon, praying for ya <333

leon!kennedy who does his best to make sure your comfortable all the time, everyday, wakes you up with breakfast in bed and some pain meds for your headaches.

leon!kennedy who puts on a brave face when you feel ill and you don’t know the cause. your scared and so is he, he’s trying his best to be strong for you.

leon!kennedy who admires your strength these days. that even when you feel like your lowest because of your pain and illness that your still smiling and trying your best to laugh. he loves that about you.

leon!kennedy who sees you have a good day, one out of the few you’ve had in this month. he sees you read, laugh at a tv show your watching with him. he even lets you kiss him a little because he knows your having a good day. and he wants everyday to be like this.

leon!kennedy who is rubbing your feet at the foot of the bed, watching you try and find joy in the book your reading. you have good days and bad days now, today was in the middle. it was filled with a little bit of hurt but also a little relief.

leon!kennedy who presses kisses to your head while your curled up next to him, hand resting on his chest as you slept. as you got a reprieve from the hurt that drowned and consumed your body. these little moments with you were precious to him, happy he could give you some reprieve from everything. he was glad to be that for you.

leon!kennedy who watches tv with you, you don’t feel like going out these days, the unknown sickness of your body was worrying him. but he was determined to be strong for you still, because that’s what you needed. you needed support.

leon!kennedy who makes you some lunch and rubs your back as you eat, trying desperately to stomach some food and try your best not to feel ill. your doing your best to be strong for him too, even if it kills you.

leon!kennedy who runs you a bath each evening, letting you both relax into each other in the tub. your body soaking in the hot bubbles and water, letting him rub soothing circles on any part of your body that he can. he knows he can only take away so much and he’s hoping that it’s enough for you.

leon!kennedy who wash’s your hair and scrubs and massages your scalp with such care, trying to ease some of the hurt your feeling. trying to do anything he can to make you feel better.

leon!kennedy who drives you around, gets you out of the house. he wants you to have a little bit of normalcy even if you feel ill all the time. he drives you to the bookstore, to a nice cafè and even to a park. he wants you to feel like your world is okay, that your safe and happy. only if it’s for a little bit.

leon!kennedy who tries not to notice how weak your becoming, who holds your hand when you feel pain and feel sick. when your joints ache and you have splitting headaches that caused you to cry and soak your face with tears. he just holds your hand, holds you, he can’t bare to see you like this but he loves you. so he’s going to stay even if it makes his heart ache.

leon!kennedy who takes you to the doctor after you finally give in. he doesn’t want you to be scared so he whispers reassurances into your ear even if he doesn’t entirely believe them. he just wants you to feel better.

leon!kennedy who sits with you in the waiting room, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head, holding your hand tight as you both wait for the doctor to come out.

leon!kennedy who walks close to you, still holding your hand and making sure your okay, trying to soothe your nerves with just a simple touch. even if he wishes he could take it all away just like that.

leon!kennedy who comes into the doctors patient room with you. who lets the doctor run a couple procedures and asks you about how your feeling. asks what’s been happening and whatever you don’t remember, he’s happy to help and fill in. he wishes he could take the pain away, the pain you dealt with.

leon!kennedy who listens as the doctor tells you that it could possibly be cancer. that you could have it, he doesn’t miss the way you squeeze his hand tighter at the doctors words or how you have water in your eyes. and now he really wishes he could take that pain away, because you didn’t deserve this. you didn’t deserve a single bit of it.

leon!kennedy who after the doctors appointment holds your hand, holding it over the console of the car as he drives. he keeps looking over at you every few seconds. your eyes still red and watering a little as if your trying to hold them back. this is killing you, all of it is and you don’t deserve it. he knows that, his own eyes water a bit as he drives.

leon!kennedy who lets you cry into his chest and holds you on the bed, letting you wrap your body around his. he holds you close, he gives you comfort and love, his own reassuring words that he’s trying to desperately to believe and grapple onto.

leon!kennedy who wiped your tears away and presses kisses to your head, your cheek as he kisses some tears away. he presses a kiss to your lips, soft and loving. he keeps you close, he holds you. because no matter what, he would hold you. cancer or no cancer. he was there for you. and he’d never go away, not ever.

an: i love you all. pls reblog if u feel like it, like and my taglist is linked above at the beginning. i hope this brought comfort to you anon, thank you for asking this of me. i hope it didn’t disappoint. im honored you came to me for this. we always need a leon when times are tough, and i hope this helped.

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cherry-pop-elf · 2 months

Text

George Weasley Sexcanons

Because im extremely sick, so im bored

Warnings? Sex sex sex and more sex. Along with some submissive Georgie baby~

What gets his engine going

He’s more of the submissive type. Your definition of a service top. He loves to make sure his partner is feeling so good. Their comfort comes, heh, first before anything else. Mans has 100% just gotten off from eating out/rimming/sucking off

He’s….Hes got mommy issues. As much as we love Molly, you can not deny she was rather verbally abusive. Not to mention having seven kids means you’ll Never have one on one properly. I won’t rant, but mans got a serious mommy kink. Doesn’t matter if you are a man, he’s calling you mommy!

Is a sucker for risk taking. He’s gonna try and eat you out at a quidditch game, jerk you off at the leaky cauldron, he’s gonna rail you in an alley way. He’s an adrenaline junkie, and probably wouldn’t be to shy at the idea of actually doing it infront of people. He likes the rush of it all

If you get a tattoo with his name, or some kind of indication you are his? Oh that’s going to make him feral. He doesn’t actually believe in owning and such, but there is something so enjoyable about it in fantasy. Kink doesn’t equal reality! ((And obviously I don’t need to clarify what is off the table))

Let me say this once, mans has a MAJOR Breeding Kink. Doesn’t matter if you can get pregnant. He’s going to find a way to fuck a baby into you. He’s a Weasley. They love to prove the impossible

Like I said about mommy kink, he is so gonna be a brat. It’s not a number one go to, that’s Fred, but he loves being a menace to society. If he’s not being a brat, you calling him a bad boy might make him cry. That’s why it’s healthy to communicate in the bed room!

Spank him. Spank him nice and good.

Lingerie lingerie lingerie

He might be a size queen, but you didn’t hear it from me 🤭

Oh he just loves doing it in his office. There is something so hot about it. To have you sit in his office, as he eats you out. How you would pin him on the desk, and pound him so hard it starts to rattle. To have you casually come in, wearing nothing at all, and crawling over all the paper work to get to him. If he’s having a bad day, sneak into his office and remind him he’s the boss

Don’t think you won’t be shared with Fred. They are magical twins. They share everything together.

Don’t be shy of your body hair. He likes his bitches natural. There’s also something so romantic to him about it. That you can just be your truest self around him, and not need to panic about your looks. Just your true self, and such

Speaking of natural self, he likes his bitches a little thicc. Blame his dad for liking em big. Nothing like some love handles to grab onto, or some ear warmers to keep him trapped in place. But most importantly? The cuddles

Expect to be of ‘use’ during busy hours at work. Like sucking him off while he does paper work, or being stress relief after a Karen comes into town

Boobs? Butt? Mans a thigh guy. He loves himself a partner with thick thighs, long legs, and some well pedicured feet. Yes. He’s a feet guy. Thigh highs in orange will make him cream alright

Expect to be his partner in trying new sex shop items

Speaking of that, don’t be scared to try new things with him. You never know. Maybe your weird kink could be the next hottest item the shop!

AFAB Partner Shenanigans

His favorite position with you would be the mating press. He just loves having your legs over his shoulders, and getting a front row seat at your begging face

He is going to be that type to fill you full of cum, and make you walk around with it

Sundresses baby

Peg him silly boo boo. He will ride that strap on until sunrise don’t even question it

Expect lots of cock warming. Especially when busy at work

Your tits are his now. His favorite thing to play with, when it isn’t your pussy. Even not in a sexual sense. You’ll just wake up with a hand on the tibbie

AMAB Partner Shenanigans

His favorite position is cowgirl. To have his hands on your chest, as he pants. Whimpering and moaning, as you move in and out of him. To have you spank him to move faster. Gets him all kinds of work up

He’s gonna be a shit head and sneak under tables a lot and have his fun with you

You will wake up to him dealing with your morning wood

He is going to sit on your cock when he is doing work. He will be a bastard and spin his hips

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wineauntie · 3 months

Note

Omgggg how about a little blurb of Quinn doing evie’s hair for school?

TWIRLIES — Quinn Hughes x single mom!reader

summary: Quinn Hughes is multi talented and fears nothing…but it seems like he’s finally met his match– Evie’s school hairstyle.

note: I know this isn’t a blurb but I’m such a sucker for headcanons, hope this was okay!

warning: brief mention of vomiting, nicknames like; bug, sweetheart and darling. Other than that it’s just fluff!

Two months into a relationship with Quinn, he’d begun to study how to be a dad/dad-like figure all so he could help you out and because he wanted to be sure Evie would be well looked after.

He would literally read so many parenting and self-help books and so. many. podcasts.

He just wanted to be so prepared for whatever Evie needs at any given time.

He even called his mom a couple of times for advice on how to go about helping you with Evie.

He was so scared of messing things up or doing something wrong. (You thought it was the funniest and the cutest thing you’ve ever witnessed)

You’d watched him calm tantrums and soothe Evie to sleep. But the true test of patience came when you were sick one morning.

You’d woken up, vomiting, with a groggy Quinn holding back your hair for you.

Your immediate thought was who is going to drop Evie to school? Quinn had hockey practice and your parents lived nowhere near by.

Quinn’s first thought was to get you back into bed, knowing he could handle the rest.

You’d feebly tried to argue but he’d dragged you into bed and bundled you under blankets, with a kiss to your forehead and a promise to take care of everything.

Then it came to waking up three-year-old Evie.

He’d switched on her lamp and gently brushed back her tussled hair, smiling softly at her sleeping figure.

“Bug, it’s time to wake up.”

It only took a few minutes for Evie to wake, his soft words easing her discomfort in the morning air.

Evie had tried to pull him down beside her so she could snuggle into his side but he carefully lifted her, letting her rest her head against his shoulder.

“Bug, Mama is sick today so I’m going to drop you off this morning.”

“You bring school?”

“Exactly, bug!”

He’d helped her get changed, dressing her in her favourite pair of purple overalls and a jumper.

The hair was the most daunting challenge.

“All right, Eve, this’ll be easy…right?!”

His words were more for himself than the little girl who’d now woken up completely.

“Twirlies! Twirlies!”

Quinn had absolutely no idea what Evie was demanding, and that’s when the panic set in.

“Ponytail?” He’d asked, as Evie sat between his legs.

“No! Twirlies!” Evie had proclaimed.

Let me stress this, Quinn was a mess.

He didn’t know what to do. He literally sat and stared at Evie as she babbled before he eventually gave in and started doing random hairstyles trying to soothe Evie.

“No, Winnie! Twirlies!”

Quinn disassembled his neatly constructed braid, with a huff, brushing out the tangles.

“NO, WINNIE!”

Quinn opened his arms and let Evie fall into them, tears of frustration leaking from her eyes as he brushed out the buns he’d tied up.

“Bug, sweetheart, I’m sorry, I don’t know what Twirlies are!”

Quinn felt absolutely awful, his heart had sunk to his stomach. He couldn’t shake off the feeling of guilt and disappointment in himself as he finally admitted defeat and carried Evie into your shared bedroom.

You were half-awake when Quinn started apologising profusely, his eyes saddened.

You immediately sat up, your eyes adjusting to the light filtering into the room from a crack in the curtains.

“I tried every hairstyle, but she wanted twirlies, I…I don’t know what they are.”

Your heart swelled at the thought of Quinn doing Evie’s hair in so many different styles, knowing he must’ve learned specifically for her.

“Oh, Q,”

You’d brushed a hand over his cheek, your tired face peeking up with a smile.

“Twirlies are Evie’s way of saying pigtails. One on either side of her head.”

Quinn nodded with a slightly open mouth as Evie clapped. He carefully brushed back Evie’s hair, separating it into two bunches and tying it with purple hair elastics as per your instruction.

“And sometimes she wants her pink bows...Whatcha say, Evie, bow or no bow?”

Evie, of course, wanted her bows, so Quinn made sure she was sitting far away from the edge of the bed, so she wouldn’t fall as he ran to her room to grab them.

“Mama, Winnie’s silly!”

You’d laughed and scrunched your nose at Evie’s wide-eyed expression.

“No, darling, he’s not being silly, he just isn’t used to this.”

Quinn had returned with sixteen different pink bows varying in sizes, looking rather confused as you and Evie both giggled.

“I didn’t know which ones to get so I got them all!”

You gently nudged Evie and lowered your voice as the little girl laughed.

“Okay…Maybe he’s a little silly!”

#wineauntie #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes imagine #nhl x reader #quinn hughes fluff #i love quinn hughes what a man #quinn hughes x single mom!reader #quinn hughes x y/n #quinn hughes x you #quinn hughes fanfic #quinn hughes fanfiction #quinn hughes #family is family universe

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