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#i can breathe fine now like it's not bad anymore
faetima · 2 days
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THE AVEN + HANAHAKI THING YESSS I'VE BEEN THINKING ABOUT THIS FOR SO LONG BECAUSE LIKE. I know it's always super angsty when it's the reader that gets hanahaki but rine having it. imagine pushing your s/o away because you don't think you can do a relationship rn just to get hit by the stupid idiot in love disease. damn sucks to be you man
(tbh hanahaki as fun as the angst is I love aventurine so much and usually just alter hanahaki to be like less deadly because a) I DONT WANT TO BE SAD and b) the whole guilt of "I developed hanahaki because of you now love me or I WILL die" feels strange to me)(but also yum angst and the consequences of pushing someone away) ((sorry I talk a lot teehee okay bye))
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𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐫. 𝐦𝐲 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠. .
. . too bad he wasn't your darling anymore.
// tws ; slight cursing, blood ; gn reader ; modern au, hanahaki au 
a/n: finally wrote the aventurine exes hanahaki au lol ,, had no idea how to finish this but i might make a part 2 !! :3
ever since you had started dating aventurine, you felt like you were a burden to him in some way. but you were never sure if you were actually a burden to him, or if that was your mind playing tricks on you.
but last week had just solidified your beliefs.
you both had fought over something petty--you couldn't be bothered to remember what it was--and harsh words had been thrown around in the process.
words that cut deep into you, practically making you bleed out.
and after that?
aventurine had ignored you for the rest of the entire week. he hadn't even glanced in your direction. it was fine if he needed some space to think, but he didn't even tell you, he just started fucking ignoring you.
your efforts to talk to him had just been met by blank uninterested violet eyes.
everything that happened in the last week had all led up to yesterday.
you stood in front of his door, swallowing your nerves. why were you so nervous?
after everything that happened, everything you felt, everything he said, you didn't think you could handle a relationship at that point.
so, when aventurine answered the door, his blonde hair unruly and lavender eyes tired, you took a deep breath and finally said the words you had been so scared of saying.
"i want to break up."
--
now, you were rethinking your decision.
on one hand, it felt like a large weight had been lifted off your shoulders.
on the other hand, breaking up with him had left you in your current predicament: crouched on the cold tiled floor of your apartment, hurling up bright yellow marigolds. you coughed them up, unwillingly watching as they hit your newly polished floor. they hit the ground ungracefully, clumped together with a disgusting mixture of mucus and blood. you gagged on the flowers as the sickly sweet smell of the marigolds hit you, making you feel lightheaded and sick to your stomach.
you didn't think you would get the disease again after aventurine asked you out.
you had it once, albeit briefly. it was before you had even talked to aventurine, too scared to do so. maybe it had been your shyness, or maybe you were just scared of rejection. you weren't too sure which, but it had caused you to cough out a few lemon yellow petals.
but, as quickly as the disease had started, it had ended. aventurine talked to you and started getting close to you, and your hanahaki had eventually diminished into nothing. after that, you thought it would never start again.
but you guessed you were wrong, since the disease decided to plague you.
marigold petals--slick with mucus--fell out your mouth as you coughed your lungs out. they fell almost gracefully onto the small flower pile.
you took fast and shaky breaths, collapsing. you were too exhausted to move, the hanahaki sucking all the life out of you.
--
it had been a week now, and the disease had just gotten worse. at this rate, it would only take a month or two until you suffocated on the fucking marigolds.
you could talk to aventurine, but he would probably just ignore you again.
you could get the surgery, but you would rather die than forget aventurine. you still loved him.
at this point, you couldn't do anything but hope that the disease would just somehow go away.
--
aventurine was growing increasingly worried as the days passed.
he hadn't seen you at all after you had broken up. sure, that was normal, but his gut told him something was wrong.
horrible thoughts of what could've happened to you plagued his mind, and he couldn't take it anymore.
he grabbed his keys, his coat, and headed towards your apartment.
maybe it was an invasion of privacy, but even your friends felt as if something were terribly wrong. he'd just check on you once, and never speak to you again. you'd be okay with that, right?
--
aventurine had knocked about a dozen times by now, but had received no answer.
he swallowed. he still had a spare key to your apartment, but what if you didn't want him to come in? what if you were just busy? what if he was breaching your privacy?
he took a shaky inhale.
fuck it.
--
he stepped inside your apartment, and was hit by the extremely potent smell of marigolds.
he glanced around, and froze at what he saw.
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Omg hi!! I was wondering if you could write maybe something will bill in like 2007-2009 with a girlfriend that's in the band? The rest of the band know they are together but the public doesn't know until they slip up(there was already signs but nothing was confirmed) and all the fan girls figure out , and they are already don't like the reader because shes a girl in a band with 4 guys, how would this affect their relationship?
I don't really request so I didn't know how to word this sorry
-🍰💫
ofc!! I hope that I understood your request correctly and that it turned out how you wanted! <3 ( this is btw my first ever fanfic on tumblr, so if there are any writing mistakes, I apologize 😭 english isn’t my fist language, but I’ll try my best!)
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Complications
„How do you do that?“ I asked genuinely interested the twin brother of my boyfriend, who was just playing something on his guitar again. He smiled at me. „Years of practice,“ he explained, whereupon I started laughing. I would probably never learn an instrument, I was just too impatient for that.
Warm hands suddenly wrapped around my hip and I immediately knew who it was. My cheeks had received a visible pink tone and my lips twisted into a grin. I felt Bill’s breath on my neck, which he kissed lightly. „Where have you been, babe? I missed you,“ he mumbled, whereupon I had to giggle and went through his spiky, soft hair with my hand. I wondered every time, how his hair could withstand all the chemicals contained in the dyes and all the cans of hairspray.
I looked into his pretty, brown eyes. “Where I have been? Where have you been! I missed you as well.” I said grinning. He lifted an eyebrow and a little smile appeared on his face. “I was running away from screaming girls and flashing cameras, just a normal day.” He said, sighing a little. Tom made a weird sound, which made my head turn into his direction. He was looking at us.
“Well, you guys know that you can’t hide your relationship forever. Sooner or later, it will come out. They will always find out.” Tom said with a little concern in his voice. My stomach twisted in an uncomfortable way and I shared a look with bill. I was pretty aware of that and I knew, that it was just a matter of time until everyone will know about our little secret.
“I know, but as long as we can, we will keep it undercover.” Bill said and I nodded in agreement. “I think that you’ll can’t do that for long anymore. They’re already signs.” Tom said and grabbed a newspaper from this morning. He handed it too bill and Bill opened the paper to find the article about the rumors. I looked too and there it was. It wasn’t so large so it didn’t got much attention, but it was still there.
„Frontman of Tokio Hotel was seen suspiciously close with the star-girl of the band! Could there be a possible relationship between the two? Does it affect the band? ...“ The article was not very long, but it was still visible and you immediately saw, that it was Bill Kaulitz in the photos. I was only seen from behind and my face was not great to see, yet we were close to each other. Slowly I shook my head and looked desperately at Bill, who seemed thoughtful.
„Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if we just dissolved it,“ I said, staring deep into the eyes of Bill, who also now looked at mine. He pulled his eyebrows together. „Yes, probably, but it’s not that easy. I don’t want to drag you in there.“ His voice seemed worried and slightly anxious, which immediately made my chest tighter. My hand found his cheek, which I gently stroked.
„Hey, everything will be fine, I’m sure of it. You don’t have to worry, Bill. I have you, I know you will always take care of me. You’ll see, everything will go great as soon as everyone knows!“ I said cheeringly, but Bill’s half smile he gave me didn’t reach his eyes.
My heart raced and I felt Bill’s hand holding mine tight. The black sunglasses only protect a little from the violent lightning storm, which took us from all sides. The next day had begun and our „little secret“ was no longer so small. Reporters stood on every corner, asking unpleasant questions that we avoided.
Bill kept looking down at me to make sure I was okay, but I was already used to it. I have been part of the band for two years now and since I joined the band in 2006, I have already been included in the world of the band.
„Just look! There’s his girlfriend!“ Suddenly screamed a girl, who had stood between the reporters and now behind her a huge crowd of fans came towards us. Fear spread in me and I now clung to Bill’s arm, who now also took faster steps. He bent down to me, which only made the snapping of the cameras louder.
„Don’t panic, we’re almost there,“ he said gently, which calmed me down a little, but still did not completely free me from the nervousness that was spread throughout my body. The last steps were now taken and we all quickly rushed through the door of the studio.
The first preparations for the new album were sue, which is why we had a lot to do and thus spent a lot of time in the studio. Bill sighed with relief when he took off his sunglasses and looked at me. I did the same. His hands now held my face, which immediately captivated me. „I love you,“ he whispered and now pulled me closer to let his lips dance passionately on mine. We ignored everything and it was nice until Tom’s call brought us to the here and now.
„Stop!“ He called and came up to us to pull us apart. Bill stared at his brother stunned and was just about to say something, but I put my hand on his mouth to stop him. It was dead silence.
„Bill,“ I whispered and took my hand from his mouth. „What-“ he stopped his sentence, when he looked in the same direction as me. A group of girls, all with their cameras, had caught us. In addition, a larger group of reporters. My shocked look was found by Bill, but he was exactly the opposite of me. He didn’t look shocked or scared. He looked rather relaxed and calm.
„It’s in the news.“ it now came from Georg, who had turned on the TV in the meantime. Goosebumps spread on my body and my hands found my face. „Shit.“ I murmured and now felt Bill’s cold hands, gently enclosed my hands and freed them from my face. A smile lay on his lips, which left me confused.
„Fuck it,“ he said, his eyes sparkled just like his black hair, which smoothly framed his head. „Everyone should know that you are all mine and I belong to you. From my sight, the whole world can find out! I stand by you and I think we should stop hiding our feelings. They will understand it sooner or later,“ Bill said and stroked his thumb over my open lips. He was right.
I blushed. „That was really sweet,“ I said smiling, which made him give me a toothy grin. He came closer and pulled me into a long kiss again. This time it didn’t matter that all the fan girls were still glued to the window and photographed and filmed every inch of our kiss, because we were no longer interested in the opinion of others. It only counted him and me, everything else was unimportant and I will proudly present, how much he means to me.
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Would love to know why my body has suddenly decided that it's okay to give up on trying to function when it's actually super not okay
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palms-upturned · 4 months
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fordaryl · 4 months
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REMEMBER.
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minors dni. 2.6k words. smut. daryl dixon x fem!reader. protective daryl. hint of size kink. strength kink.
It's easy to forget his strength when his touch is always so gentle. When you're safe, he lets you forget everything he's capable of; the reason you've both made it this long.
Safety lets you forget.
And then—when it inevitably all it all goes to shit again—you remember.
"Get in!" he calls through the wall of bodies separating you. He keeps the attention of most of them, but there's a few stumbling in your direction—too many for you to handle alone. "Now!" he shouts as he takes another growling walker down.
It goes against every instinct you have—to leave him to fight this alone. But this was his domain. This was when you did whatever the fuck he told you to do. It was how you survived.
You drag the door of the container open, grunting as the heavy metal fights back. It's a makeshift prison cell, one that was supposed to be filled with live bait for the walkers. It would be if it weren't for Daryl. He was almost single-handedly dismantling whatever fucked up enterprise you'd both stumbled upon.
One of them reaches you before you'd manage to push the gate open enough to slip through.
One is fine. You can handle one.
Turning around to deal with it gives you a split second to check in on Daryl. He's making a dent in the mass of bodies, but it's not enough. Not with the shouts of the living making their way closer.
You kick the walker you've knifed back into the mass of bodies approaching, giving you just enough time to slip through the crack you've made in the sliding door and slam it closed behind you.
Locking it is another story.
You have no hope of accomplishing that.
Still, it's enough for now. It's enough to let Daryl keep his focus where it needs to be as you deal with as many as you can through the bars.
Then one gets shot down. Daryl, is your first thought. But then two are shot down at once. And then the voices reach your ears. Voices are bad. Walkers you can handle. The living was another story. Nothing stoked the fear constantly simmers in your gut like the voices of the living.
They shout over each other, calling directions as they pick off the mass with a spray of bullets. You can't see Daryl anymore. He's either dead or hiding.
Hiding. Hiding. Hiding.
You shift back into one of the dark corners of the container as the shouts draw nearer.
“What the fuck happened?! Don't shoot them you dumb fucks! Get any you can back into holding!”
Any second now... any second they'd find Daryl and your world would end. The living were different. The living were monsters of a different kind.
"They're bunched up around this one!" someone shouts.
You hold your breath.
"Well check it out then!" another demands.
Oh, fuck. You grip your pistol. Your aim was decent. You could take one out, maybe two. But there's a whole group... and they were coming for you.
You scramble to the other far corner as the last of the walkers are cleared from the entrance, hoping to take advantage of the darkest shadows. Daryl would be watching... waiting. Any extra moment you could give him could be vital.
"You better come out now," a man calls from outside. He's just out of your sights, prepared for you to be armed and ready to fight. You'd hoped to have the element of surprise. "I ain't asking."
You know what'll happened when they find you. It's the same thing each time. You're prey to people like these—something to hunt in a world without consequences for that kind of thing.
Your silence buys you less than a minute before the first of them are dragging the metal gate open. If you shoot, they'll shoot back. It's not something you'll survive cornered like this. So you bet on them being the same as the rest. You let them know you're prey.
"Please," you call, as meek and afraid as you can manage—vulnerable. Not a threat. "I'm—I'm unarmed."
Then a bright light blinds you.
"What the fuck?" one of them exclaims. Then, "Where'd the fuck this little thing come from?"
There it was. Little. Thing. You were nothing. You're not a threat. You'd bought Daryl more time.
"Come on out, girl. Come on." They call you like you're a dog, something less than human. That's how they see you. Something to use.
You take a small step forward, still blinded by their flashlights. Daryl was alive. He was alive and hiding and he was waiting for something.
You just had to stay alive.
"What do you... want with me?" you ask, still taking tiny steps towards the light. Weak. Vulnerable. No threat.
You get muffled laughter in response. Guards down. Distracted.
"What do we want? We want a little fun, honey. That's all. Just a bit of fun."
They're flash lights drop as you approach the entrance. They've pulled the gate all the way across.
Five. You count five. If you kill two...
"Why is she alone?" one of them questions. He's younger, a little less distracted.
The rest ignore him. Then one of them has you by the arm, dragging you the rest of the way out of the makeshift cell. They're hands send a wave of repulsion through your body as they grab at you, pulling you around and shoving you in front of them. They may as well be the undead the way their touch feels against your skin.
The young one doesn't move out of the way when you reach him. Instead he stares into you, suspicious and angry. "Who are you with?" he asks. Even then, his gun is lowered. Even to him you aren't a threat.
"Get the fuck out of the way," the man gripping your arm says, clearly irritated and impatient.
"But—"
"Now."
His eyes narrow, but then he steps aside—his back pressed to the wall to let the rest of the men past. It's now that you get a look down into the pit of walkers, the one's they've managed to recapture rather than take out. They reach up towards you, hands grabbing for you.
Then, only a few steps later—you're stopped. The man with his hand wrapped around your elbow leans over your shoulder, his rancid breath invading your nostrils as he speaks. "You alone?" he asks. "You tell me right now."
You blink away the burn threatening to pool tears in your eyes. Were you alone? If you were...
The man's grip tightens, the only warning you get before you're forced to your knees and staring down into the pit of hungry walkers. "Speak," he demands, nails carving into your skin. "I'd hate to waste you like this."
There's two other men behind you. Three surrounding you in total. You could take one out for sure. They hadn't even searched you for weapons. They expected nothing out of you at all.
But then there'd be two, only counting the ones in reaching distance. How long would it take the other two further away to aim their guns in your direction?
You were dying tonight if Daryl was dead, that was certain. Your only hope was that he was waiting and watching... but what would he be waiting for...
Your pistol sits at your hip, a comfortable weight.
You take a deep breath. You could wait to die. Or fight now and hope that's the moment he's waiting for... if he's waiting at all.
The man holding you drops to one knee behind you. He leans over to speak in your ear. You wouldn't need to rely on your aim for the first kill, only any that followed. It was a headstart you weren't likely to get again. You reach for your pistol and before the man can open his lips and taint your senses with his rot once more, you shoot him through the underside of his jaw.
Your ears ring as his body drops. But you were ready. The men behind you aren't.
You were nothing. Prey.
The few seconds that affords you are priceless. You manage to shoot one more through the head before he can get hands on his own weapon.
The third is another story. His gun is pointed at you for what must be milliseconds. They drag though, those moments with an enemy weapon pointed at your head always do.
But then Daryl is there, strangling the man with a rifle and shoving his body into the ground with a force that reverberates through the metal. It's only when he snaps the man's neck you spot the bodies behind him.
He'd been waiting for you.
You watch him stand, hair hanging in his face and his chest rising and falling with his deep breaths.
Then his eyes are on you.
Then his hands.
Those hands... the same ones he'd used seconds earlier to break a man's neck. His fingers are feathers across your skin as he brushes the hair back off your face. "Okay?" he asks, soft and a little shaky.
You nod.
"You did good," he says, that deep gravel back in his voice. "So good, sweetheart." His hand makes a trail down to your neck, gentle and slow over your pulse point to rest at your clavicle. "We gotta go," he says. "Stay close for me, yeah?"
—————
The first time after is always the same—after you're forced to remember. It adds something to the way his gentle hands feel as he reaches over your hips to dip between your legs. To the way his body feels pressed up behind yours.
His thick fingers slip between your slick folds as he holds you tight against his chest. Heat. It's an overwhelming heat. He crowds you, practically curled around you.
"You like that sweetheart?" His voice is almost sweet as his lips graze your ears and his long hair tickles your skin. "Huh? You like that?"
You nod with a small whine, pressing your hips back into him—desperate.
He sighs, finger prodding over and over at your swollen entrance—a teasing little hint of what's to come. He dips in slightly, his calloused fingertip pressing into your slippery, spongy entrance just enough to have you whimpering his name.
"Fuck," he grunts. "You need me here? Huh? You all fuckin' empty?"
"Yeah," you whine with a desperate nod. "Empty."
His grip around your ribs tightens for a moment before he's pressing you into the ground—cushioned by the few blankets you carry. He's rolled you onto your belly as he covers you completely, his warmth seeping into your skin from his calves to his hot breath on your neck.
"What do you need?" he asks. As if he doesn't know; as if he didn't always know.
"You."
"Hm?" he hums, sweet and coaxing. "How?"
You reach blindly to find his wrist, gripping it firmly. "Hold me tight," you gasp between jagged breaths. "Please... Please."
His weight is heavy over you as he drops his lips to your neck, a silent acknowledgement of your pleas.
Then he's scooping you up, lifting you and rearranging you exactly the way you want him to. Because he fucking knows.
He has you pressed to his chest with your tits against his skin as he lays back into the makeshift bed you've created for the night. His arms wrap around you, one across your shoulder blades and the other around your waist—secure and firm. His fingers press sporadically into your skin a little more than needed, like he's testing his grip on you; like he's testing he has you in his arms good and tight.
Then he hooks one leg under yours, a gentle guide to part your legs just the way he needs.
"You ready for me, sweetheart?" he breathes against your temple as one of his hands leaves you. It's temporary, you remind yourself. He'd be wrapping you up securely as soon as he'd buried himself deep; once his cock was guided safely into your throbbing cunt.
You nip at his neck in response, chasing with a delicate lick at his salty skin. "Please," you ask softly.
Then he's adjusting you against him a little, ensuring you're exactly where he needs you to be. "I got you," he says as his leaking tip prods at your entrance. "Got you," he repeats. He mumbles this way as he teases; as he plays. This was what he did: pushed you to the brink of desperate sobs as he guides his cockhead over your slippery, throbbing cunt... over and over.... and over...
Saying he liked you needy was an understatement.
Then, eventually, he slips inside. Just the tip.. and not far. Just enough so that he can wrap his arms around you again. Just enough that he can have you whimpering his name as he prevents you grinding down to take him deep inside.
This is when he gives you a hint of his strength. It's easy to keep you from your goal, his strong arms pressing you into his torso a little harder each time you attempt to resist.
He keeps you there, just with a taste of that fullness—a taste of having him as close as it was possible to be. "Kiss," he says, simple and a little croaky.
You obey, pressing your desperation between his lips. It's messy and interrupted by moments where you simply need to breathe, heavily—his lips chasing yours as you attempt to catch your breath.
"Daryl," you gasp eventually. "Now. Please."
His grip around you tightens a little as you drop your face to his neck.
Then he pulls you down to meet his cock, to fuck himself deep. It's hard, exactly like you need it—exactly the way he knows you want it. You bite into his neck weakly as he keeps you there, stuffed full—the thick throbbing length of him stretching you out so completely.
Then, "Like that?" he asks, that sweetness back in his voice—like he's offering you a gentle back massage instead of holding you down on his cock.
You nod weakly in response.
His fingers press into your skin moments before he's moving, fucking himself with your cunt as he pulls you down to meet his messy thrusts. You're completely pliant like this, all control relinquished.
He's got you.
His breathing is quickly transformed into uneven pants as he attempts to grunt broken sentences into your ear. "Sucking me in... sucking at my cock with your messy little cunt... aren't you, baby? Hm?"
One of his hands moves to your hair occasionally, a temporary and seemingly subconscious attempt to get a better grip—or just to hold you closer. His fingers tangle in the strands, never tugging hard—never hurting.
"My girl," he grunts. "My needy little girl."
It's only when he's nearing his end that he flips you onto your back and you get a real display. He grips your hips and tugs you down to meet him as he uses you, each thrust a slapping of skin and punching a helpless sound from your lungs.
Strength. Everything you've been forced to remember.
"Daryl," you gasp. "Daryl, fill me. Please."
His fingers dig a little more into your skin, his hair falling over his eyes. Then his lips part, a grunt... a broken, "Fuck."
He falls over you as he floods you, his cock twitching and pumping you full—just like you asked. But even then, even as he loses himself, he catches his fall—arms landing either side of your head to cage you in. "Got you," he gasps out between desperate lung fulls of air. "I got you."
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danveration · 3 months
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That no-good-first-man-on-earth
Parings: Alastor x reader
Summary: Alastor opens up to you (kinda). You confront him about his cane being gone, asking what happened after the early extermination attack.
Word count: (Around) 1154
Warnings: Mention of Adam dying, mention of death, mention of Al taking someone’s soul, ummm.. yes I think that’s about it!
A/N: YES I MADE IT !! the ending might be a bit rusty but I hope you enjoy it nevertheless! :’)
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It was a week or two after the early extermination attack. The hotel has gotten a bit more residents and attention due to Charlie and the original residents protecting hell and successfully winning. The hotel has gotten an upgrade, that’s for sure. Lucifer now approves of its looks, so that says something.
During the attack you noticed how Alastor disappeared for a while and came back when it was all over. It made you question what happened when he went up against Adam. He was fine, physically. But you noticed something in his eyes that changed. Of course, he still smiles the same as before.. but it doesn’t always seem like he wants to. But the biggest, most obvious thing you noticed is that his staff/cane is gone. Nobody really seemed to question it but it set off an alarm in your brain because, well, he always has it on him.
You’re currently sitting in one of the lounge chairs in the lobby of the hotel, when you see Alastor confidently stroll in. He gives the lobby a quick look all around to see who’s all in there. In which, right now it’s just you.
“Hello, my dear!” He says, smiling and starts walking towards you.
“I must say, it’s rare that it’s empty in this area. Peace and quiet is often something I don’t have the luxury in experiencing, especially now that the hotel has gotten the attention that Charlie desperately craved.” He laughs.
He’s now standing beside you. You look up and smile back at him.
“Yeah, I’m happy for her though. She seems very overwhelmed, you know? But in a good way.” You say.
“Mm yes, she does, doesn’t she?”
You want to bring up how he doesn’t have his cane anymore, but you don’t know exactly how he’ll react. Though, he hasn’t ever snapped at you so you think it won’t be bad. Knowing him, he’ll probably just avoid the question by saying, “that’s for me to know.” As he does whenever someone brings up why he was absent for 7 years.
“Hey, Al?” You say, looking at him.
He raises his brow in question.
“Hm? What is it, dear?” He asks.
“I have a question.. you totally don’t need to tell me but I’ve just noticed that your um.. cane? You don’t have it anymore.”
You notice as you bring it up, Alastor tenses up and smiles more, darting his eyes away from you. You can feel that this was something he didn’t think you’d bring up.
He doesn’t seem to be saying anything, so you continue. “I was just wondering.. why is that? You usually keep it on you at all times. And also I’ve noticed that you’ve been a bit different since-“ You are stopped suddenly by Alastor using his shadow magic to teleport the two of you to his room.
You are caught by surprise, looking around disoriented, but than you realize where you are.
“Uhm- Al?” You question.
You assume he took you two to his room because he didn’t want anyone to hear the conversation, so you don’t question it. Which makes sense, he doesn’t want anyone else questioning his motives.
He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. He opens his eyes and looks at you. “That is for me to know.” He says in a neutral tone.
Wow such a surprising statement.
“I knew you’d say that. Listen, you know you can talk to me, right? I’m here for you.” You assure him.
He looks at you weirdly, as if he is waiting for the joke line to happen. But it doesn’t. You care for him. That’s definitely new. Sure, Alastor has friends. Or, acquaintances, as he calls it. But you seem to deeply care for him and what happened.
He isn’t sure exactly how to react. “How amusing! That’s very kind of you.” He says and chuckles. You notice something in his eyes that doesn’t align with the emotion he is trying to project.
“Alastor, I’m serious. You don’t need to put on a show for me.. I want to know the real you.” You say, looking at him.
He debates if he should continue with his charades, but knows you’ll just see past it. He never ever would be this laid-back with anyone else accusing him of “putting on a show” or accusing him of having alternative feelings. He would’ve surely taken their soul or.. well, killed them by now. But you and his relationship has always been good. You guys always chat about whatever nonsense comes to mind, he showed you around the place where he records his radio broadcasts, and even let you attended once. He always had a soft spot for you. You never had a fear of him and never liked it when Husk or other people badmouthed him. He once caught you ranting to Niffty about how much you adored him. It made him smile.
Alastor squints his eyes and thinks of what to say.
“Well, my dear. You know that no-good-first-man-on-earth? Adam, I believe his name was.” He emphasizes the word “was,” seemingly to be very happy and satisfied now that he’s dead. He laughs continues, “he used his no-good angelic waves to break in half!” He says.
You’re in shock. Not because you thought his cane was indestructible or anything. It was because he actually told you what happened. You guess he trusts you more than he lets on.
“Oh..” You look at him sympathetically. “I’m so sorry, Alastor.”
“Mm, yes. Me too. But no worries, dear. I can live without it.” He says trying to cover up the fact that he cares quite a lot.
Without thinking, you place a hand on his arm trying to give him comfort. He slowly moves his head to look at your hand. He doesn’t mind one bit, in fact, he feels the complete opposite of how he usual feels when people try to touch him.
You quickly remember he doesn’t like physical touch very much, so you move to pull away.
“No.” He says quickly.
You’re confused and question what he means.
“No, what?”
Your hand on his arm felt like a new sensation he hasn’t felt before. He quickly became embarrassed of his sudden outburst decline of you not taking his hand on his arm.
Something inside him snaps and his persona cracks, and he then does something that you’ve never expect.
He hugs you.
Your heart feels warm and you have butterflies in your stomach. THE Alastor, the radio demon is hugging you. You don’t see him as those labels though. You see him as HIM.
Despite your incredible shock in what is happening, you hug him back, wrapping your arms around his suit jacket.
“I do apologize.” He mumbles while hugging you.
“You don’t have to apologize, Alastor. This is what I wanted. For you to open up.” You say softly and smile.
He doesn’t pull away yet, and you don’t mind one bit.
A/N: IM THINKING OF MAKING A PART TWO WHERE THE READER MAKES HIM ANOTHER CANE AS A SURPRISE. LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK!!!!
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Training
Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x gf!reader
Word Count: 600
Warnings: simon being slutty n walking around in grey sweatpants, playfighting, minor smut, mentions to sex
Summary: Simon teaches you to fight.
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After the attack on you, Simon became panicked. 
The more he loved you, the more people would use you as his weakness. He knew one thing. 
He wouldn’t always be there to protect you. 
So you would have to know how to protect yourself. 
So there he was. Moving the sofa in your shared apartment, creating a bit of space. He laid down a throw blanket. It was small, but it would work. He was shirtless, in just his grey sweatpants. 
You, however, stood off to the side, watching him move your pullout sofa with little effort. You take a deep breath as he calls you into the makeshift fighting ring.
“Okay, lovie,” he starts. “Hit me. As har’ as you can.”
You throw a weak punch at his chest. He doesn’t even blink. 
“Lovie, what the absolute fuck was ‘at?”
“A punch…”
“Lovie, ‘at wasn’t even a poke. Try again.”
You hit him again, a bit harder. His chest is like a rock. You pull your hand back after the impact, wincing as your first stings. “Ow! You’re like wood! That’s not fair!”
“Yer doing everythin’ wron’.”
You pout at his words, “I’ve never fought before…I’m just…I don’t wanna do this anymore.”
He shakes his head, “Too bad. Lovie, ‘m doin’ this for you. Now, come on, I’ll show ya.” He fixes your posture, “Keep tension here. Pull your first back. Shift your weight onto this foot.”
You shift, “This is hard.”
“Learn,” he puppets you, throwing a faux punch with your hand. “Like that.” 
You throw a better punch, finally making him stumble. Just slightly. 
“That was better. Again.”
He teaches you numerous kicks, punches, and even a way to hold a person and put pressure on their neck. He tells you to demonstrate, to hit him, but your eyes are focused on something else. 
His abs.
His arms look so good, so huge. His abs glisten with the smallest amount of sweat. He looks so good.
“Lovie,” he snaps in front of your face. “Oi. Focus.”
Your eyes snap up to his, “You’re distracting me.” 
“Am I?” he flexes. 
You gasp, “Asshole.”
He smiles, “Deal with i’. Now come on, we have work to do.”
“Fine,” You strip off your shirt, your bra hugging your tits. “Let’s go.”
His eyes lock on your tits. 
You chuckle, snapping your fingers in front of his face, mocking him. “Lovie, my eyes are up here.”
“Fuck this,” he tackles you onto your couch, pressing his lips to your exposed skin. 
***
“Okay,” Simon says, putting your ear protectors on. “All good?”
You give him a thumbs up. He presses his front into your back, puppeting you. He aims the gun into your hand at the target. 
“Okay, shoot.” 
The shot echoes off the walls of the shooting range. Your bullet hits the dummy’s shoulder. 
“Nice! ‘Ats not bad, lovie!” Simon smiles wide, kissing your temple. “Again.”
You shoot again. It hits the left pec. Another kiss. 
Another shot. Hits the neck. Another kiss. 
Simon lets you practise for another 10 minutes. He feels proud. Too proud. “Lovie?”
You stop. “Hmm?”
“You’re great. Can we go home now, hmm?” 
“Okay,” you smile, taking off the protectors. “Thanks for teaching me this.”
“After what happened, I’d be a fool not to,” he kisses you. “Yer my whole life.”
He presses himself into you. 
“Now, we’ve got a little problem. Yer solving it in the car. Let’s go. Legs spread.”
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evie-sturns · 22 days
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needed this - Matt Sturniolo
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summary: after a month-long business trip, you finally return home to your boyfriend matt. you find out he hasn't came since you left, obviously you have to help him.
warnings: smut, very sub!matt, overstimulating, swearing.
-------------------°°••....••°°--------------------
i've been away with work for just over a month, meaning matt's had the house to himself, i'm finally arriving home this evening.
7:54pm
i twist the key into the white door, pushing it open. the scent i'm so used to filling my nose. "matt!" i call out, placing my bag down by the front door and bending over to unstrap my heels.
"i missed you." he says with a grin, speed walking up to me and wrapping his arms around me. i bury my face into his chest, "how was it?" he asks with a wide smile.
"it was good! how was the empty house?" i say, grabbing matts hand and dragging him upstairs.
"lonley as shit without chris and matt aswell, they've been filming with other creators for ages." matt says with a sigh as we walk into our shared bedroom.
"oh yeah, i saw that tara and shit meetup with them" i say, pulling my minidress off over my head.
i can feel matts eyes laying on me as i scavenge through our closet for anything comfier to wear, giving i've been in dresses for 5 weeks straight.
matt clears his throat, "movie?"
i nod, "yeah, yeah just pick whatever you want sweetheart."
matt flicks on the tv at the end of our bed, i unclasp my bra, letting it fall to my feet. i grab one one matts shirt, pulling it down past my head,
i jump into bed beside matt, my leg resting across his waist and lap as i cuddle to his side. the netflix intro blares through the room
"jesus christ!!" i laugh, grabbing the remote and turning down the volume. "my bad." matt says with a smile, shaking his head and pulling up the white fuzzy blanket over us.
-
8:23pm
i shift the leg which is laying across him, i feel matt grow tense under me, "you okay?" i whisper, looking up at him. "yeah- no yeah- yeah no i'm good." matt stammers, i laugh slightly,
"matt whats wrong?" i say with a giggle, "no- no yeah, shit i'm fine." he says again, his cheeks a deep red as he fidgets with his rings.
"matt." i say with a serious tone. "stop!- i'm fine!" he says, getting worked up.
i sit up in bed abrubtly, the blanket falling off my body, i look down at matts crotch,
hes hard.
he yanks the blanket up over his lap, i pull it back down and straddle his thighs, staring into his eyes. "why are you hard?" i ask quietly, "i'm not!" he instantly replies, his eyes drifting away from mine.
i palm him through his sweatpants, squeezing lightly, he lets out a breathless groan. "so.. what was that?" i tease him,
"i dont know? just your leg moving.." matt says, rubbing his eyes with his fists,
"you got hard from my leg?" i laugh slightly, he nods.
"thats okay." i assure him, reaching for his waistband and toying with it, his breathing intensifies quickly, "why are you so sensitive?" i ask, "just been different since you left a month ago" matt says quietly
"different like how?" i push,
"haven't- you know.." he sighs, "i don't know actually." i reply cheekily.
he doesn't reply, his eyes fixed on my hand which is resting just under his waistband. "tell me the last time you touched yourself" i say, matt goes redder somehow.
"month ago." he says, barely audible "thats okay." i say, tugging his waistband down. "please.." matt whines slightly, "i know." i say, pulling his waistband down to his mid-thighs.
"you want this?" i ask, lifting my self off his thighs to pull my panties off, "jesus, obviously." he says, i shoot him a 'watch your tone' look and he instantly goes quiet.
i sit up, hovering myself above matts tip, which is now red. his hands stay by his sides, i'm 95% sure his brain is so fogged he doesn;t know what to do with them anymore.
i grab his cold hands, placing them on my waist. i stay sitting above his tip for a few more seconds, its tempting to see how worked up i can get matt. he trys to guide me down, but i resist.
"please." he says, "matthew, stop whining and tell me what the fuck you want." i say, "please, you know what i want" matt says shyly, i stay still, waiting for him to practically beg.
"ride me, please?" he breathes out, i can see his stomach jolting up and down from his desperate breaths underneath his white sweater.
i nod, moving my hair to one side and slowly sinking onto matt, he squeezes his eyes shut, his hands dropping from my waist and balling up the white fuzzy blanket. i slowly take more of his length before bottoming out, sitting comfortably on his dick as matt lets out small whimpers
"you alright?" i ask, grabbing his hand which is squeezing the sheets.
he nods his head, "look at me, matt." i say, he opens his eyes, letting in small breaths. "calm. down." i say, he nods again as his top teeth sink into his pink bottom lip.
i slowly start to bounce on him, his eyes stay fixed on me as i quicken my pace. i throw my head back as i balance my hands on his thighs behind me.
"close- really close." matt squeezes out, "no, not yet matt." i tell him.
"i can't, oh my fuck-" he whines, his grip on my waist tightening, the cold metal of his rings pressing against the warmth of my skin.
"you can, and will." i say, placing a hand on his stomach to balance myself as i continue to ride him. he lets out soft groans as he throws his head back into the pillows, his hair flopping.
"your okay, your doing so well." i say with a small moan as I repeatedly hit my g-spot.
suddenly i feel matt release, coating my insides. matt rubs his eyes "did i tell you you could do that?" i say, looking into matts eyes.
"im sorry, shit- i'm so sorry." he rambles, instead of pulling off him, i chase my own orgasm. he groans from overstimulation, "too much, sensitive-" he says,
"is it my fault you came early?" i say as i sit down on his cock, rubbing my clit against his pelvic bone.
he shakes his head, somewhat arching his back off the bed as his hands dig into my waist. i let my head falll foward as i look down at matts hands,
"fuck it hurts." matt says,
we have an established safe word, he knows he can use it whenever he needs, but he's not.
"you want me to stop?" i ask, he pauses for a moment before letting out a breathless "no. fuck please dont-"
i continue to bounce on his length, i feel the pit in my stomach growing as my cheeks flush, matt has mutiple tears falling down his cheeks.
"i think i'm close-" matt says, my eyebrows twist with a small laugh "again?" i question, "yeah- shit." matt groans .
i clench around him, i think thats enough for matt to finish. the knot in my stomach snaps as i feel matt finish again. i collapse down onto matts chest as i attempt to catch my breath, he reaches down and pulls out of me with a wince.
"you okay? did i hurt you?" i say as i rest my face on matts shoulder.
"yeah- no im fine, needed that a lot." he says, his fingers tracing mindless shapes on my back.
after a handful of minutes i sit up on matts lower stomach before lifting myself off him, stepping down onto the plush of our carpet. "c'mon, lets get you cleaned up." i say, wiping matts face with one hand, matt stays still on the bed.
"matt? stand up" i say, matt has a small smile on his face, he wipes his eyes before starting.
"i cant.. stand."
----------------
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pissfizz · 1 year
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Why can’t I just have people that love me without something going wrong
0 notes
dancewithdeath11 · 28 days
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Say Sorry
Pairing: Jason Todd X Reader
Summary: Jason reminds you nobody is allowed to talk bad about you, including yourself. 
Warnings: 18+ SMUT- (but not really, very self-indulgent) talks of body insecurity (stretchmarks, cellulite (specifically on thighs)), talks of wearing a skirt, mentions of prep & cunnilingus but none, 
Word Count: 1.2k
======
“Fuckin- Stupid- Saying shit like that..”
It was your fault. Entirely. But how would you know what punishment your best friend would come up with?
It started out when you were about to go out. Constantly going from your bathroom to the thrifted full body mirror in the corner of your room. Midway through you trying to figure out what you were going to wear, he showed up. Jason was going to give you a ride. He huffed and sat on your bed when he saw you were still trying to pick an outfit. From there he was commenting on them, trying to help you out so the two of you could get going. 
One of the outfits you picked out had a cute skirt that went to your mid-thigh. It was a pleated, classic plaid pattern with a nice brown color. You were pairing it with a brown sweater as well. Only problem was that you couldn't find any nylons to go with it. “Shit-” Turning to look at yourself in the mirror, you couldn’t help but focus on your own thighs. Hands tugging at the skirt to try and cover what you were focusing on. But that only made it look awkward causing you to pull it back up. 
“I like that one. Why haven’t I seen you wear that skirt before?” Jason asks as he sits up on the bed, giving you his attention once more. You turned again, looking from the other side. Either way you hated how you could see the cellulite and stretchmarks that patterned your thighs. 
“I hate it. I should’ve stuck with the jeans!” Your head shook back and forth as you went to go to the bathroom again. 
He stood up and stopped you, a firm hand on your upper arm. “Hey- Why do you hate it? It’s a good look, just do your makeup and we can go.” The man chuckled lightly. Looking up at him, you hesitated slightly before shaking your head again. “No..talk to me. What is it?” 
Your eyes rolled as he took your shoulders, clearly not letting you go till he got you to talk to him. Jason was just that kind of friend. He was sweet and tried to help you where he could. A shoulder to lean on, a trusted confidant. “I..My thighs and skirts just don’t go together.” You tried to laugh it off slightly. However, he did not like that. 
“Your thighs are fine.” It was his turn to shake his head, a deep frown pulling on his lips. Looking like he didn’t believe it. Like he heard the most obvious lie spoken to man. 
“No-”
“Why would you say that your thighs and skirts don’t work together? Is there some war between us and skirts I’m not aware of?” He joked slightly, head ducking down to catch your gaze as you looked away. It melted your heart a little at the way he said us. A frustrated huff left your pouted lips as you narrowed your eyes at him. 
“It’s- You can see my stretch marks, and my cellulite, it’s just not a good look.” You once more tried to brush it off like it wasn’t a big deal. But now his face hardened, an almost angry frown on his face and brows furrowed.
“Don’t say that.” He said, his voice stern as ever. This tone is unfamiliar to you, but even then you wanted to argue back, opening your mouth to do so. But he knew you well enough to not let you get away with that. “Don’t.” That was all he muttered as he took you by the hips and turned you, walking you back towards the bed. “You’re so blind, I swear, ma.” He grumbled under his breath as he made you sit on your bed. 
But what started as a stern lecture from your best friend, quickly turned into more.
The evidence being the bites and hickeys on the insides of your thighs from when he ate you out till you couldn’t take it anymore. Slick coating them from when prepped you with his thick and long fingers. The pads of his fingers calloused from years of abuse, training, and killing. His grip on your thighs alone was enough to remind you what he was capable of. There would probably be bruises tomorrow. 
“Fuck-” Was all you could hiccup as he bites down on the junction of your neck and shoulder. Finally fucking his entire length into you making you feel impossibly full. If you thought he was big before, this was a whole new definition. 
Jason was a brick wall of a man. That was clear. Tall and broad, biceps that looked bigger than your head. But now you know, he was big in other places too. No wonder he was so attentive with prep, but even now it was still a lot.
He was kissing and licking along your tits as he scolded you, waiting patiently for you to adjust. Your back arched as he hugged you around your waist and held you close to reach your chest. Your fingers tangled in his hair as you whined to him, trying your best to watch him past his dark curls. 
He lowered you back onto the covers. Sitting back on his hutches as he watched you with hooded eyes that skated along your hickey littered skin. The same look you’d see when he’d read poetry or admire art. Large hands gently skating up your sides. Thumbs coming to rest just under the swell of your tits, fingers splaying out across your ribs. “Real stupid..” He comes back down and nips at the sensitive skin. Pressing a final kiss there before coming face to face with you. Resting on his elbows on either side of your head as he hovered over you, hiding you from the coldness of your own bedroom. He pressed a feather light kiss to your lips before staying there. Whispering against them, “Say you're sorry. Say you’re sorry for sayin’ something so stupid about my girl.”
God, his eyes were really intense. The way he was staring at you alone was enough to make your face flush more than it already was. 
“S-Sorry..” You whispered out weakly between shallow breaths. He chuckled slightly and nodded in approval, pulling out the slightest bit before stuffing himself back in. Your breathing stuttered as your hands searched desperately for something to grip, quickly latching onto his back. “Jay-”
“I know, ma...” He cooed softly as he sat up again, pulling you along with him. Your thighs draped over his leaving you pliant for him. Hugging around your middle once more as he thrusted slightly, pulling your back down onto him. Quickly you hugged around his shoulders not wanting to fall back. His lips pecked your jawline quickly before he locked you into a kiss. It was messy, uncoordinated and searing. Teeth clashing, heavy breathing and moans shared between the two of you. “God.. S’pretty for me, Princess..” He whispered against your lips as you pant softly. 
It was slow but hard. The push and pull, feeling the drag of his dick deep inside you. 
You’d never doubt your best friend again…
======
Sorry, just another thing i wanted to clear out of my drafts ;)
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mysicklove · 3 months
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Summary: Yuuji has a bad day, and all he wants is for you to make him feel better <3
Warnings: cheesy/sappy writing!!!!!! like so cheesy. I can't help it. he makes me sick. slight dom/sub dynamics (reader being dominant), suggestiveness/talks about sex, kneeling + praise heavy, aged up! character! gn! reader
Wc: 2.0k
A/N: i saw this in my drafts and just wanted to finish it up before starting my other wips. i am lovesick with him, do not mind me. i am actually embarrassed at how sappy this is
art here! by @mpsql - super super super cute!!! <333
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Yuuji was exhausted. It was just one of those days that seemed to drag out – the watch Nanami gifted to him seemed to tick as slowly as possible. Nothing was going his way, and although he never made a fuss to the people around him, he still was frustrated by all the events. 
But now he was home –  he didn’t have to worry about those things anymore. He could crawl up to you, and with the gentle caress of your fingers through his hair, he was bound to be left thoughtless. Or maybe you would touch him tonight – he has been good, so he doesn’t suppose that it was out of the question. 
He takes a deep breath, snapping out of his thoughts – getting a hard-on would not be appropriate right now. The man opens the door to your shared apartment, mumbling out a greeting and scanning the room. He calls your name, setting down his bag and walking toward the living room. You pop your head out of the office, wearing your blue light glasses. “Ah! Welcome home, love,” you call, smiling at your boyfriend, “I am doing some work right now, but dinner is in the oven. You are welcome to eat it without me. Gotta finish this!”
He doesn’t say anything, but a frown pulls at his lips. Suddenly, he feels his previous emotions resurfacing just from the sound of your voice and the familiar warmth of his home. Itadori pads over to you, ignoring the wafting smell in the kitchen until he stands directly next to you. Then, he grabs the back of your rolling chair and flips it away from the screen. You blink at him in surprise, being torn away from your work. “Yuuji?”
His lip wobbles at the concern in your voice, and the boy immediately falls to his knees in front of you without a word. He presses his head against your clothed thigh and wraps his arms around your waist. “Just….bad day.”
You frown at him and place your hand on his head, gently petting him. “Poor thing,” you coo, and his whole body shivers, but he nods into your leg. “Do you want me to do anything for you?”
He thinks back to his previous idea: sex. Something that he was opposed to, but now, in the moment, he didn’t crave it as much. He wants your touch –  he always does, loving physical affection more than anything, but maybe tonight, it didn’t need to go below the waist. He was content just being close to you.  
“No. But, can I stay here?” Itadori asks, voice soft and barely above a whisper. He was content in this position, finding that it strangely made him feel small, and your words made him feel safe. 
You cock your head to the side, slightly confused. “Kneeling? You might get uncomfortable.”
He blinks at you, shaking his head stubbornly. “No, ‘s fine. Like it down here.”
You grin at him, now using both hands to rub through his hair and gently massage his scalp just the way he likes it. “Does it have anything to do with what you are facing?”
He eyes at your crotch for a split second and then looks up at you, a small pout on his face. “‘I’m not some perv, you know.”
“Just teasing you,” you sigh, ruffling his hair slightly. “Anyways, I have to do work, Yuuji. I can’t keep petting you.”
He yawns into your leg and sighs. “It’s alright. I’ll sit and be quiet.” Then, he closes his eyes, cheeks pressed against your thigh, content. 
You face back toward the computer screen, not paying attention to the boy who seemed to be pressing himself impossibly closer to you. Ten minutes go by, and you are more than surprised to not hear Yuuji’s usual light snore. He tended to fall asleep pretty easily, so it was shocking that he was awake right now – you dont comment on it, letting him rest his eyes.
But his silence doesn’t last much longer than that. His dark eyes peer open, and he glances up at you. His voice is soft, as if afraid that you will be upset at him for distracting you. “Can you do the thing?”
“Hmm?”
“Where you uh…compliment me.” 
Your eyes flicker to him, and you notice the tips of his ears turning a shade of red. “You want me to praise you?”
He readjusts himself on the floor nervously, but nods his head. A hand returns back to his head and the boy seems to melt at the touch, eyes already fluttering shut again. “Well, I suppose it’s not hard to. I could list about fifty things I love about you without even thinking about it.”
He gulps, face now a bright shade of pink, and sighs into your pants. “Me too.”
You trace the tips of his ears with your pointer finger. “Cute,” you say, smiling at him as your computer screen darkens with its lack of use. “Hmmm. Where do I begin?” you ask yourself rhetorically, and Yuuji waits in silence, trying not to buzz with excitement. 
He readjusts himself on the floor, pressing more of his muscled frame on top of your lap. It reminded you of a great dane trying to be a lap dog, because they believed they were the size of a chihuahua. It’s cute, and you didn’t mind his extra weight. “Well, I guess I could start with how kind you are, but that sort of a no-brainer.”
 “’s not,” Yuuji mumbles into your pants.
“No? I disagree; everyone knows Yuuji Itadori is kind. It’s been like that since high school and probably before that. The boy who makes everyone feel comfortable. Who radiates warmth, light, and happiness. Y’know, you could easily compare to the sun.”
Yuuji squirms in your lap, making a small noise of complaint. “Now you are just exaggerating.”
You beam at him, shaking your head. “I wouldn’t lie to you.” Your fingers ghost over his lips before he tries to argue again, and he remains quiet at the gentle warning. “I think you are very pretty Yuuji.”
You use both of your hands to cup his face, rubbing your thumbs against his cheeks that were warming up steadily. He wants to complain about the word choice, but he finds himself remaining silent, finding the compliment strangely endearing to him. He has been called handsome before, hot even, but pretty was not common. You preferred to call him cute most of the time, which he has grown to love even if most men didn’t. 
You lean down and press your lips to his hair. “Your hair is pretty, soft, and easy to pet.” Then you move down to his eyes, kissing at the scars beneath them and his eyelids when he instinctively shuts them. “Your eyes are pretty, a warm shade of brown, or maybe an amber color?”
He squints at you, one eye remaining shut from where your thumb pads just below it. “I just call them brown.”
You pout at him. “Aw, you're no fun! They are much more than brown, and you know it. Now, your nose.” You peck the tip of it, and he blinks at you, waiting for what you are to say next. “Hmm, I guess I don’t have too much to say about it, but it is really cute.”
“I like your nose a lot,” Yuuji interrupts, and you bark a small laugh. In return for his remark, you teasingly press your thumbs into the corner of his eyes when you catch him staring at it. He shuts his eyes with a whine, trying to pull away.
You breathe out another laugh and then move your fingers again to trace his skin, peppering it with small kisses. You go back to complimenting him. “The prettiest skin, with the cutest scar beneath your eyes.”
“Dont remind me,” Yuuji grumbles, thinking about his time with the curse. He was exorcised a while ago, and Yuuji can safely say that he enjoys being able to think for himself once again. Plus, the flirty comments about you from the king did not sit well with the boy.
He shifts on the floor again from the thought, and you frown. “Are you sure you don't want me to grab you a pillow for your knees?”
When you try to stand up, he simply presses more of his weight onto you – successfully pinning you to the chair. He looks at you with a small pout, “I said I was fine. I was comfortable in that position!”
You pinch his cheeks with a teasing smile, ignoring his small whines of protest. “So whiny. I just want to make sure you dont get bruises on your knees. Could lead to some misunderstanding, hm?”
He looks away, rolling his eyes but smiling again. “You have a dirty mind.”
“Y’know, I can’t help it when it comes to you.”
His cheeks flush again, and he groans into your pants. “Please dont tease me. You know how easy it is for me to get turned on.”
Your nails drag over his neck, and he does a full-body shiver, while he hides his face in your leg again. But you continue running your fingers over his shoulder and down his back. Then, you tilt his chin up to look at you. “Dont hide. I am not done praising you.”
“Sorry,” Yuuji mumbles, trying not to gulp at the way your thumb drags over his lips. He keeps looking away, but also leaning closer in hopes that you may kiss him. It was so easy to in this position.
“Did I compliment your whole face already?” you ask, knowing the answer. You have kissed and praised every facial feature except for his lips. 
He was waiting for you to finally kiss him for real. Your lips grazed every part of his face except his own. So, he shakes his head and blinks at you. “Uh, you haven’t said anything about my lips yet…”
You cock your head to the side, frowning at him. “No? I am sure I did.”
You were teasing him – he knew it. You knew that he wanted you to kiss him, and you were being purposefully cruel. But, Yuuji was known to getting straight to the point. “Please kiss me now.”
A laugh falls from your lips at the whiny demand, and you shake your head with a grin. But, you listen and lean forward and peck at his lips. Yuuji pouts at you, furrowing his eyebrows and shaking his head. It wasn’t the type of kiss he wanted, and the both of you knew that. “You were so nice earlier. Why are you teasing me now?”
Your thumbs rub at his eyebrows, smoothing them out until he relaxes them. “You make it too easy.”
“Can you kiss me for real?” Your thumb continues to rub at his lip, and you stare at it, waiting. Yuujis face was flushed from embarrassment, and his tongue runs over his teeth before he says, “Please?”
And with that, you smile at him and gently press your mouth to his. This time you dont pull away and instead let Yuuji lead the pace. He, like you expected, nearly pounces on you, tilting his head up and placing his hands on the back of your hair. He makes a small moaning noise and pushes himself closer to you until his knees hover above the floor so that he can reach your mouth more easily.
You are the first to pull away, and he tries to follow you, chasing the trail of saliva connecting you two. Pants leave your mouth, and you laugh breathlessly as he obviously waits to kiss you again. You lean back in your chair, and to this, Yuuji leans forward, now resting his arms on either side of your legs.
The action makes you raise your eyebrows, and you gently squeeze his cheeks together, shaking your head. “You are quite spoiled.” 
He frowns at you, upset that you dont want to kiss some more. “Not spoiled enough,” he mumbles, and at this, you laugh while he continues to pout, even when you let go of his cheeks.
Your hand goes back to tracing the skin on his face, and Yuuji leans into the touch like he is some sort of cat. “Is there anywhere else you want me to praise, Yuuji?”
The comment was meant to be lighthearted, hoping that you could compliment something he was insecure about. But, the boy, in return, pauses for a moment and looks at you with wide puppy dog-like eyes before slowly dragging his hands down his body until his hands touch his crotch. He gulps and says, “I think, um–I think here needs some attention too…”
Your lips curl up in a grin. “Aw, I thought you said you weren’t a pervert?”
He thinks back to what you said earlier and lets out a small laugh. “Y’know, I can’t help it when it comes to you.”
Your lips are back onto his in an instant. It always ends up like this: Yuuji says that maybe he didn’t need sex tonight, but somehow, one way or another, the two of you end up in bed together. He didn’t mind it one bit.
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veenxys · 1 year
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「BNHA Boys reacting to you wiping off their kiss as a joke」
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⤷ Bakugou
you were watching a movie that he honestly didn’t care much about. he changed positions all the time and it ended up upsetting you because you really wanted to see the movie, unlike him. he then whispers “sorry” and leaves a kiss on your temple as he puts his arm around your shoulders, you bite your lip to keep from smiling and run your hand across your temple, wiping his kiss away. he stops for a moment and looks at you in complete disbelief. were you mad because he moved too much? you wiped his kiss.. what the-? he couldn’t believe it, so he took the remote and paused the movie playing on the television. “what?” you ask innocently. he looks at you with the same indignant look and you can’t help but laugh at him. “oh, do you think it’s funny?” he says, crossing his arms. even with a playful smile plastered on your face, he still didn’t understand that it was just a joke. “why did you do that?” he asks seriously and you laugh more, knowing you need to talk real or else he’ll go crazy. “it’s just a joke, katsuki!” you tap your fingers lightly on his cheek and before your hand can fall into your lap again he grabs it and pulls you to him kissing all over your face as he says “i want to see if you can clear all these now”
⤷ Deku you took a pillow and put it on his lap, laying down. he smiles and starts stroking your hair with his free hand while the other one holds his phone. you stare at him for a few seconds and he puts his phone down, looking passionately at you. he leans in a little and leaves a soft kiss on your forehead that you’re quick to wipe away. he widens his eyes for a few seconds, swallowing hard because he thought he might have done something wrong that made you upset. it had to be that, right? there was no other reason for you to clean his kiss like that… he stiffens his posture and calls your name in a serious but also worried voice and you look at him with your eyes shining, wondering what was wrong. a part of him was relieved that you didn’t look angry, but another part of him looked even more worried that you didn’t look angry. so what was wrong? what happened? he decides to give you another kiss, this time on your lips. you’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel butterflies in your stomach, but you faked it really well by wiping your lips. you try to stay serious, but the way he looks at you makes you laugh until your cheeks hurt; he’s worried but in such a cute way that you can’t hide it anymore, so you just say it’s a joke and he sighs in relief, laughing with you before kissing you again.
⤷ Kirishima he would be so offended and scared at first that he would have no other reaction than to look at you with his eyes half wide as he stutters something. he tries to search for the right words, but all he can say - in a finely tuned voice - is “what did i do wrong?? is there something on my lips?” you try to look at him like he’s going crazy but you can’t as his expression makes you burst into laughter. and at that moment he lets out the breath he didn’t even know he was holding and shakes his head, laughing at you. “you’re bad… now you’ll have to put up with me” he says as he pins you to the couch and showers you with kisses and love.
⤷ Todoroki you were waiting for the train and he was in front of you while you shared your headphones; his two hands were around your waist affectionately. he leans down and kisses your forehead, pulling you a little closer to him. the moment would be cute if it weren’t for you wiping your forehead; he frowns and puts his fingers to his lips, looking at you he asks “is there something on my lips?” and his expression is so genuine but at the same time a little worried; you shake your head and bite your lip to keep from smiling. he touches your chin with his fingers and tilts your face so you look at him, “what’s wrong? tell me” he asks, eyes curiously scanning yours, as if searching for any trace of lying or anger. you smile playfully at him and your smile is all he needs to understand that it was just a silly joke. he smiles nervously back and you kiss the corner of his lips and his lips, which makes him laugh lightly.
⤷ Denki he would have a fit when you use the back of your hand to wipe his kiss on your lips. “heyyyyyy, don’t do this… don’t you want my kisses?” he asks in a thin but worried voice, making it hard not to laugh. he feels offended but doesn’t show it, but just the blush rising in his cheeks is enough for you to see what he’s feeling. silence taking over the room. “does my breath smell bad?” he says randomly, unable to contain his bubbly laughter. “was it my lunch? oh shit.. i need to go brush my teeth.” he got up, starting hurriedly to the bathroom. you grabbed his shirt quickly. “no wait, i’m just kidding! it was all a joke.” you eased, denki letting out a breathless groan before falling on top of you. “kaminari… get out…” you struggled, squirming under his frame of denial. “that was soo mean… i didn’t think you could do this to me. you’re paying for dinner.” he means it seriously, but you can hear a joke in his voice.
⤷ Tamaki he would feel very confused and insecure for some time. he wouldn’t immediately ask what was wrong because he didn’t know what to say; he kissed your cheek and you quickly wiped it away, it made him very worried and sad, but your behavior towards him didn’t change, which meant you weren’t angry or sad at him. he spends the rest of the day quiet, looking at you sideways and looking away when you look at him. he swallows and scratches the back of his neck as he remembers the scene; he feels so anxious and nervous he can barely talk to you. he doesn’t want to bother you and it ends up hurting you because he looks like a lost puppy with his eyes shining all day. you hug him from behind and he freezes not knowing what to do, you smile and kiss his back, which makes him melt a little. you move a little and take his cheeks in both hands, “hey bubba, it was just a joke! i’m sorry, i thought it would be fun but..” you don’t finish the sentence, just smile weakly. he takes a deep breath and closes his eyes, clearly demonstrating the relief he felt at hearing those words.
⤷ Shinsou
you were watching a new series together and suddenly he feels a tender urge to leave a kiss on your cheek just to distract you a little. you instantly wipe your cheek with your hand and he doesn’t show any kind of reaction. in fact, he helped you wipe your cheek. “the popcorn i made was very buttery, make sure you take it all out so it doesn’t leave any oil on your skin.” you couldn’t even answer, there was no way to answer. you look at him a little confused and he just smiles slightly before turning his attention to the television again. he’s so cute and thoughtful that you couldn’t keep a passionate smile from appearing on your face. you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him into a hug. “ugh i’m sorry” you mutter laughing against his shirt and he frowns, patting you on the back. “sorry for what?” he says when you sit in your seat again. “uhm…nothing. forget it” you say and grab a popcorn from him; really buttery
⤷ Hawks he was training and after a while he paused, sweat staining his forehead as you handed him a bottle of water to cool off. a small kiss from him of thanks was the reply, to which you easily wiped it away. “hey what-?” he winked at you with his brow furrowed and his lips still attached to the rim of the water bottle. “what was that?” he gave you a nonsensical look, genuinely confused as to why you didn’t accept his kiss. “what?” you tilted your head innocently, acting as if nothing had happened. “you… wiped my kiss.” he pouted, standing up. you shrugged your shoulders, your face utterly confused almost making your facade crack. you could see the wheels turning in his mind; he shook his head fervently, went back to training as if nothing had happened - but his mind didn’t stop for a single second. and a few minutes later he sat down on the floor. “baby?” you asked, arching your brow at his behavior. “i lost motivation. my love was rejected.” he sighed dramatically, now lying fully on his back. “what do you mean?” you crouched down, leaning in to land a deep kiss on his lips. “woah woah woah woahhh..” he gaped, his eyes bursting with amazement. “it was just a joke, love” you said, and he smiles a little “so i’m going to need a refund to get my motivation back”
⤷ Dabi he liked being the one to receive rather than give, just to see how needy you would have become if you hadn’t received attention from him. he liked to tease you and play with you, and today you thought might be the perfect time to get back at him. “dabi… can i get a kiss?” he looked from his phone to where you were. “now you’re asking so nicely, how could i say no?” maneuvering his head to softly kiss your lips, looking at you as you used the back of your hand to wipe the kiss. “hey.. what is this?” he used his foot to swivel the chair back to where you were sitting next to him “acting like a brat? is this your way of getting back at me?” his dazzling eyes read you like a book. every time. “i had an itch.” your apology proving to be more regrettable than you anticipated in your head. “oh yeah? so please let me help you.”bewildered, you shrank back against the chair with a squeak – dabi advancing on you at an alarming rate. he gives you a breathtaking kiss, the kind of kiss that makes you lose your ground. he pulls away and you’re breathing heavily. “is not fair.” you snorted, but he looked very pleased with himself.
⤷ Shigaraki
you knew it would be wrong to do this to him because he didn’t usually show so much affection through gestures and even without him admitting it, you knew he was insecure. but it was just a joke, it wouldn’t hurt, right? wrong. the moment you wiped your cheek after he gave you a light kiss, he got so angry. he didn’t say anything and that was the problem; he ignored you all day like a sulky child. on the outside he was cold and angry, but on the inside he was so broken and sad. he thought of many things; was it the scars on his lips that bothered you? were you stopping loving him? did you not like his love? he was so confused and ended up showing it in rude ways that made you back off when you went to talk to him. until you finally worked up the courage to tell him it was just a joke; you even showed videos you saw on tiktok of people doing this. he looks at your phone and looks at you, rolls his eyes and goes back to what he was doing before. you leave a kiss on his forehead as an apology and when you leave he smiles in relief.
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twirlyleafs · 1 month
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“Matilda”
Max Verstappen x reader
TW: complicated relationship with parent and guilt but mostly fluff <3
A/N: based on the song Matilda by Harry Styles
~~~~
You can let it go, you can throw a party full of everyone you know.
“I think we should call off the party.” You said, not looking up from your plate as you continued parting your food. In your peripheral vision you could tell Max froze just as he was about to pop a piece of chicken in his mouth.
“What?”
“The engagement party. I don’t want to do it anymore.” You tried to keep your tone light, as if it didn’t really bother you when in reality you’d cried an hour about it this morning. For the past few weeks you and Max had been planning a party to celebrate getting engaged, or rather you had been supposed to. In reality you had planned it, Max avoiding the subject like the plague. Every time you asked him to sit down with you to look at something regarding it he’d suddenly been very busy and if you asked for his advice he’d just kissed you and told you it didn’t matter, that it was your choice. At first you’d been so excited about the party, not just to get to celebrate the love you shared with Max, but because you thought planning a party together would give you a hint of how planning a wedding would be. Now all it did was make you want to cry.
“Why not? I thought you were so excited?” Max placed his utensils down, frowning at you from across the table. You shrugged, moving some lettuce around on your plate.
“Yeah, but it’s fine. I think it’s best if we skip it.”
“But why?” He pressed and with a deep breath you looked up at him. Max offered the softest expression, genuine worry and confusion on his face. You forced yourself to give him a small smile.
“You don’t want to Max.” You stated simply and his face fell for a second before the frown was back. He opened his mouth to say something but obviously changed his mind, a silence settling over the table. You looked back down, poking the food around and occasionally taking a bite. It felt like forever before Max spoke up.
“I do want to.” The way he said it with a sigh had you looking up at him with furrowed brows. He shook his head when he met your gaze, obviously sensing your disbelief. “I do, I promise you baby. There’s just- I’ve been thinking about, well-“ Max didn’t seem to find the words, suddenly nervous. You reached your hand across the table, wiggling your fingers a bit. Max paused, a small smile forming on his face as he took your hand in his and leaned down to press a kiss against it.
“Tell me.” You mumbled, your thumb moving over his skin in the most comforting way you could. Max gave you a quick nod and you could tell he found it hard to express whatever it was he was about to say.
“I know we said we wanted our families and friends at the party.” He began, and you nodded. “And I do. Mostly.”
“What do you mean?” You were confused.
“You know I love my dad.” He began and it slowly dawned on you what this was about. You refrained from grimacing at the mention of Jos. The two of you had never really gotten along but that had never bothered you that much, Max had ensured you that Jos had never and would never get along with anything that took time away from racing. What made you really dislike your soon to be father in law was the way he treated his son. You’d seen Jos absolutely tear into Max for mistakes made by the team, by other drivers. You’d heard the stories from Maxs childhood, having been told the worst ones by his mother and sister since he would never share them himself. He didn’t want to put his dad in bad light, ever. Even when Jos definitely deserved it.
And not invite your family because they never showed you love.
“I know you do.” You agreed, leaving it at that. Max once again nodded softly, knowing very well how you felt about his father.
“And even though a part of me wants him there- I mean he is my dad.” Max paused again to take another deep breath, eyes fixed on your hands, before continuing. “An even bigger part of me don’t want him to come because I know he’ll either upset you or my mom or one of our friends.”
“Or you.” You added, knowing that even though Max had taught himself not to let it show when his father hurt him it affected him a great deal.
“Or me.” He agreed, quietly. “I think everything would be better if he didn’t come but I also feel this, I don’t know, intense guilt at the thought of not inviting him.” Maxs eyes shot up to stare at you the second you pulled your hand from his. He watched you stand up and for a split second he thought you were angry, but he quickly realized that you were rounding the table to come to him. Pushing his chair out he let you crawl up in his lap, his arms automatically wrapping around you. With a small pout on your face you let your hands cup his cheeks, forcing him to face you.
“Max.” You cooed, not being able to stop yourself from placing a quick but loving kiss on his lips before continuing. “You have every right in the world to invite, or not invite, whoever you want. Just because he is your father doesn’t mean he gets an automatic invite if you don’t feel like you want him here.”
“But it feels so mean.”
“He’s mean.” You stated, backtracking when you saw Maxs face drop. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. What I’m trying to say is that he put himself in a position where you’re even considering not inviting him. He did that. Not you.” You scratched your nails against his stubble, making him close his eyes momentarily. “I’ll support you no matter what you decide and I promise we will make the best of the situation whether he’s here or not. But you should only invite him if you actually want him here, not because you feel obligated. Loving someone doesn’t mean bending over backwards for them.” When Max opened his eyes again he immediately met your gaze and you could tell your words were slowly resonating within him.
“I don’t think I want him here.” You rarely heard Max be so vulnerable and it made your heart both hurt and swell with pride. He was standing up for himself.
“And you don’t have to be sorry for that. You don’t need to list anymore reasons other than the fact that you simply don’t want to.” You let your hands wander down his jaw and to the back of his neck, fingers threading through his hair. Max nodded slowly and even though you could tell he wasn’t quite there yet, he was one step closer to standing up for himself. You tilted your head, offering a soft smile. “You don’t have to decide anything right now Maxie, we can take some time.” Max couldn’t help but smile back, leaning down to kiss you.
You don’t have to be sorry for leaving and growing up.
“Thank you.” He mumbled, lips still pressed against yours. You felt his arms tightening around you and you let your head fall to his shoulder. Max let out a deep breath. “I’m sorry I’ve been stressing you out lately.”
“You always stress me out.” You joked, earning a soft laugh and fingers pressing into your side. You grinned and pecked his neck a few times, being the only thing you could reach while staying as comfortable as you were. “No but seriously Max, don’t worry about it. I get it. Just know that you can always talk to me about these things, about anything.”
“I know.” He whispered against your head and you smiled. Marrying Max would be the best decision of your life, you were sure of it.
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rafesmuse · 6 months
Text
treat you better — r.c.
pairing: best friend!rafe cameron x fem!reader
warnings: smut 18+, vaginal sex, fingering, mentions of cheating (on reader), actual cheating, creampie, toxic relationship, lots of praising
word count: 2k
summary: your best friend is eager to show you that he can fuck you better than your shitty boyfriend.
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“Fuck him!” you cursed, tears streaming down your face and your mascara smeared all over your eyes as you made your way to your best friend’s house, like every other week. Today wasn’t any different, after yet another fight with your boyfriend. Going to Rafe's house and bawling your eyes out became a routine at this point. He was always there for you, taking care of you when you desperately needed someone.
You had known Rafe for years now through mutual friends. It immediately clicked between you two and he would do anything for you now. You ultimately met your boyfriend through Rafe, since both of them belonged to the same friend group. Rafe had warned you about him at first, knowing that he’d always been a player but you reassured him that it was fine and that you were happy— which lasted only a few months. Now you’re a crying mess every week, pouring your heart out to Rafe.
“It’s fine. You’re fine” you muttered to yourself as you rang Rafe’s doorbell, wiping the tears from your face with the sleeve of your sweater, your eyes red and swollen. You heard footsteps nearing before the door swung open. Rafe stood in the doorway, not seeming surprised whatsoever, as you eyed him with a blurry vision.
“Another fight?” he asked, his brows slightly furrowed in concern. You nodded while fidgeting with your hands, unable to look him in the eye. He let out a sigh and moved aside, “Come in.”
As usual, you entered the house, went straight upstairs, and headed for Rafe's bedroom, while he went to the kitchen to get you a glass of water. You went into his room and sat on the bed before kicking your shoes off and getting more comfortable. Rafe entered right after you, placing the glass of water on the bedside table next to you.
Rafe sighed and moved to sit next to you, taking your hand in his as he drew slow circles on your skin with his thumb, the scent of his expensive cologne filling your nose.
“What did he do this time?” he asked, glaring at you with a stern face, clearly furious at your boyfriend. Breathing deeply, you went over today’s fight in your head as you attempted to sort out your thoughts. “I think… I think he’s cheating on me, Rafe” you sniffed, your voice soft and vulnerable.
“What?” Rafe yelled, the grip on your hand tightening as he waited impatiently for you to continue. “He was showering and notifications popped up on his phone so I looked and-“ you took a deep breath while you felt the tears prickling in your eyes, “It was from some girl that I’d never heard of before, saying that she had a great night with him and asking to hang out again.” Your voice cracked slightly at the end of your sentence, unable to control your emotions. Rafe shook his head in disapproval as he rolled his eyes, not understanding how he could treat you this way, “Fucking idiot”.
You dabbed the tears from your face using a tissue that he gave you before continuing, “And… we never, you know, he never wants to have sex with me anymore. It just… it makes me feel so unattractive and unwanted” you added, which made Rafe stand up in an instant, unable to contain his frustration and fury any longer.
“Listen, you really need to fucking leave him, alright?” he insisted, his voice filled with rage as he gazed down at you. “But-“ “No buts. He isn’t treating you well and you deserve better, fuck!” he snapped, pacing around the room while rubbing his temples with the palm of his hands in frustration, anger taking over. He felt so protective over you, he always did. He beat up every single guy who talked bad about you without hesitation, even when you’re not there.
“I’m gonna fucking kill that asshole first thing tomorrow, got it? Gonna teach him a lesson. I will make sure he won’t ever fucking hurt you again. What the fuck is wrong with him?” “Rafe-“ “God, I bet I could fuck you so much better than that fucking idiot”.
Rafe stopped dead in his tracks, his eyes widening as you snapped your head towards him, not sure if you heard him correctly. “W-what?” you stammered, as you stared at him dumbfounded. No… no, no, you couldn’t have heard that right. You must’ve misheard him.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck. I- uh, I didn’t mean to say that out loud.” He let out a small chuckle, baffled at his own words, then walked cautiously over to sit beside you on the bed. It was quiet for a moment as Rafe thought about what to say to you, his leg nervously bouncing up and down before turning towards you.
“I’m sor-“ he started, trying to apologise, worried about ruining the friendship while his heart beat out of his chest— but he was quickly interrupted by you grabbing his head and kissing him passionately, your body completely taking over control. You didn’t know what was happening to you, you didn’t know what the fuck you were doing— all you knew is that you needed him. You needed your best friend. Now.
He gave no resistance. Feeling just as hungry for you, one hand moved slowly to your waist and the other rested on your thigh, sliding his tongue inside your mouth. You eventually pulled away before slowly bringing your lips towards his neck, whispering in his ear, “Then show me.”
His hand squeezed your thigh as he let out a groan, goosebumps forming all over his body, “Oh fuck, you have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this moment” he growled, then pushed you onto your back and leaned over you, hungrily placing sloppy kisses on your neck with one hand massaging your tits, causing you to moan as you melted under his touch.
“Gonna show you how fucking special you are. Give you the best sex you’ve ever fucking had. Make you cum harder than he ever could. You want that, pretty girl?” he asked as he stared deep into your eyes, faces mere inches away from each other as his hands explored your entire body, finally being able to do so after fantasising about it for a long time. “P-please Rafe. Need you” you pleaded, letting him undress you as he took off your sweater and skirt before tossing them on the floor, leaving you in the prettiest red lingerie set you own which you wore for your boyfriend.
He moved back a bit, eyes scanning over every part of your body, fully admiring your stunning figure as he shook his head and laughed in disbelief. “Fucking hell, you are the sexiest, most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. What a fucking idiot, holy shit.” He smirked before kissing every inch of your body, truly showing you how beautiful you were to him as he moved his palm over your clothed core, feeling the wet spot that formed over your underwear. “So fucking wet already. Guess you haven’t been fucked good for a long time.” he remarked as he pulled your panties to the side and ran his fingers over your core. “Let me change that, hmm?”
You moaned into his mouth when he slid two fingers inside you while kissing you eagerly. His fingers moved so skilfully inside you, effortlessly finding your g-spot as he spread your legs farther apart with his other hand. “Can’t wait to be inside you. Bet your pussy feels so fucking good” he growled as he gazed at you with dark eyes as he bit his lip, almost drooling just thinking about it. “Please fuck me, Rafe. I can’t wait any longer” you begged, feeling desperate to feel him deep inside of you. He groaned at your pleas, your words alone nearly making him cum on the spot.
“Whatever you need, princess” he smirked before removing his clothes, leaving him just his boxers. Your eyes began to widen as his crotch caught your attention, noticing that he was definitely bigger than your boyfriend.
“My eyes are up here.” he joked, gesturing towards his eyes as he watched you stare at him. “I…I know…” you murmured with your eyes still fixed on his crotch and your mouth slightly agape as your cheeks heated up. He chuckled as he slowly removed his boxers, his erection springing free against his stomach with precum leaking from the tip. Your cunt throbbed at the sight before you, and your mind went blank—all you could think about was how much you needed his cock inside of you.
He moved towards you, kissing your collarbones and neck as he gently removed your bra with one hand before sliding your underwear down your legs, flinging them across the room. He gazed down at your naked body before taking one of your tits in his mouth, moaning around it. “Best tits I’ve ever fucking seen” he growled as his tongue slid over your hard nipple. Clearly not buying it, you rolled your eyes at him. “Oh shut up, you’ve fucked like a hundred girls. There ain’t no way” He chuckled, sucking your nipple more aggressively, “And none of them can compare to you. So fucking beautiful.” His words made you even more wet as you were aching for him, unable to wait any longer.
Rafe moved back and pumped his cock a few times, growing impatient as well before he positioned himself between your legs and pushed into you cautiously, his arms caging you under him as he hissed at the feeling. He gave you a moment to let you adjust to his size, his cock completely filling you up as he was buried balls deep inside of you.
“You feel so fucking good” he praised as he kissed you, moaning into your mouth as he began to move. You felt better than he ever could’ve imagined— so tight and warm, perfectly wrapped around him, as if you were made for him. “So big, oh my god” you moaned as you wrapped your arms around his neck, bringing him closer to you.
“Who fucks you better, hmm? Me or him?” he asked as he increased his speed, pounding into you at a relentless pace. “Fuck! You, Rafe, you!” “Good girl.” You wrapped your legs around his muscular torso, giving him an angle to go even deeper as his cock hit your g-spot repeatedly. Rafe clutched the sheets with his head buried in the crook of your neck as he tried his hardest to not cum right there and then, but fuck you felt so good. His hand slowly travelled to your core, rubbing fast circles on your swollen clit to help you in getting closer to your orgasm. “Yes, yes, yes, right there!” you cried out, your eyes rolling to the back of your head. “Taking my cock so well, fuck” he growled, his voice strained and his pace brutal. 
A few more thrusts and your orgasm struck you, your nails dragging down his back as you arched your back, moaning Rafe’s name over and over again. “That’s it, baby. Gonna cum so fucking deep inside of you. You will be leaking my cum when he sees you again” he hissed before emptying himself inside you, filling you to the brim with his cum as he groaned at the feeling. He slowed down before pulling out and lied down next to you, handing you a towel from beside him.
“And?” he asked with his chest heaving up and down as he tried to catch his breath, raising his eyebrows in anticipation of your response. “Best sex I’ve ever fucking had” you replied, causing him to chuckle cockily after getting the answer he expected. “Gonna fuck you in front of that motherfucker next time, show him how to properly fuck a special girl like you.”
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steddiehyperfixation · 6 months
Text
don't you forget about me (part two)
(part one)
Steve doesn’t know how long they sit there in silence, waiting. It’s making him insane. The seconds pass too slow; the seconds pass too fast. His mind is a storm; his mind is empty. He’s feeling too much; he’s not feeling at all. He paces the room; he sits catatonically against a wall. He needs to get out of here; he needs to stay. 
He’s been here before, just barely over a week ago, tense and anxious and despairing and waiting for news. But waiting to hear if Eddie will ever remember him again really should not feel this much worse than waiting to hear if Eddie will ever fucking breathe again. Steve thinks there must be something wrong with him. He’s being selfish and stupid. His pathological fucking need to be loved is not what’s important right now. Eddie is alive and awake and okay and that’s the only thing that really matters. That’s the only thing he should really care about.
Steve’s pacing again now, yanking his hands through his hair as he does laps around the room until Eddie finally appears in the doorway. 
Eddie must’ve just cracked a joke or something because the nurse is laughing as she pushes his bed into the room and he’s got this adorable grin on his face. Steve’s heart twists in his chest and he nearly bursts into tears all over again because god does he want nothing more than to press a kiss to those dimpled cheeks. 
“Good news, boys,” Eddie announces. “My brain is fully intact.”
“There’s no physical permanent damage to his brain,” the nurse elaborates. “His amnesia is likely a result of psychological trauma and the temporary disruption of brain function from blood loss and lack of oxygen that occurred at the time of his injury. But there is no obvious reason why he shouldn’t regain his full memory, given time.” 
So there’s hope. Steve breathes a sigh of relief. 
“That is good news,” Wayne agrees. 
Steve asks, “How much time?” 
The nurse gives an unhelpful shrug. “Impossible to say. It could be anywhere from days to months, or even years. I’m sorry, there’s no way for us to know.” 
Years. “Okay.” Steve pinches the bridge of his nose. He can keep it together. He can. “Thanks,” he tells the nurse. “I, uh-” He makes the mistake of looking at Eddie who looks right through him, and Steve can’t keep it together anymore actually. “I gotta update the kids,” he mutters, backing his way towards the door. Wayne nods in acknowledgment; no protests this time at Steve’s excuse to leave.
“See ya, Harrington,” Eddie calls after him, casual, impersonal, like they're nothing more than acquaintances passing by each other in a high school hallway.  
Steve can’t get out of that hospital fast enough. 
He makes it to his car in record time, slamming the door shut and sinking heavily into the driver’s seat. A ragged sob tries to claw its way up his throat now that he’s finally alone, but he forces it back, staving off his breakdown for just a little bit longer. As much as it was an excuse, he really does have to update the kids. 
Steve fishes his walkie out of the glove box. “Code - whatever, I don’t know. Code Eddie,” he says. He doesn’t remember the kids’ system of codes, nor would he be sure which one this news falls under even if he did. 
“Is he okay? Is he awake?” comes an immediate, eager response from Dustin. “Over.” 
“Yeah, he’s awake, and he’s fine, except he’s got pretty bad amnesia. The doctors say it should be temporary, but right now he doesn’t remember anything since May of ‘85,” Steve explains, trying his best to keep his voice even.
“Steve, come pick me up and take me to see him,” Dustin demands, “right now. Over.” 
“Me too. Over,” Mike chimes in before Steve can respond. 
“And us,” Erica adds as well. 
Steve pauses for a second, both to steady his own breath and to make sure no one else wants to jump in on this too, before he reminds them, “He won’t know you, any of you.” 
“I don’t care,” Dustin says, bossy as ever. “Just come get me. Over.” 
“Jesus Christ, kid,” Steve mutters to himself. He sucks in another breath; it wobbles dangerously. He’s just about reached his limit on how long he can keep himself from falling apart. “I- I need a minute, alright?” he manages through the walkie. “Can you just give me, like, an hour? And then I’ll take you guys to visit Eddie.” 
Steve doesn’t wait for a response before he slams the antenna closed, tosses the walkie aside, and finally, finally lets himself shatter. That sob rips free from his throat, followed by another and another and another. Tears flood from his eyes; his nose runs. It’s an ugly, gross, visceral cry that leaves him exhausted and raw and aching to be held by the time the last sob shudders out of him. Drained and hollow, he craves the embrace of someone who knows him, someone who loves him. 
He sweeps up his broken pieces, wipes the mess of tears and snot off his face, and drives to Robin’s house.
“Steve, oh my god.” Robin pulls him into a hug the second she opens the door and sees the look on his face. Steve clings to her. “What happened?” 
“Eddie’s awake,” he mutters dismally. 
“Oh! Not the tone I’d expect you to deliver that news in, but okay.” Robin pulls back, looking at him with narrow-eyed concern and confusion as she analyzes his puffy eyes and red nose and swollen lips. “And you look like you’ve just been crying because…?”
“Because he doesn’t remember me, Rob,” Steve sighs. “He doesn’t remember anything from the past 11 months.” 
Robin’s eyes go wide now. “Shit,” she says, so plainly it startles a short laugh out of Steve. 
“Yeah,” he agrees. “Shit.” 
She asks him more questions as she walks down the hallway so they can talk in her room. Steve once again reiterates what was said at the hospital. 
“So you didn’t tell him you two were a thing?” Robin asks, closing her door behind them. 
“Of course I didn’t.” Steve flops back onto her bed. “I didn’t want to spook him.” 
She sits beside him. “You didn’t want to spook him,” she repeats, looking down at him with raised eyebrows, “but you told him about Vecna.” 
“Well, yeah. I just-” He lifts his arms to gesture vaguely into the air as he tries to explain himself. “I mean, imagine how you would feel if you woke up in a hospital and some random guy you’ve spoken to maybe twice was by your bedside telling you you’ve been in a relationship with him for the past 9 months.” 
“Uh, I don’t know, dingus, probably about the same as I’d feel if said guy told me I’d nearly died fighting some evil twisted creature from a hell dimension,” Robin retorts.
Steve drops his hands onto his chest with a huff, shaking his head. “No, trust me. He seemed far less surprised by that than he did to hear that we were even just friends,” he says, a bit bitterly. Tears are pricking at his eyes again as he looks up at his best friend. “You didn’t see the way he looked at me, Robin. All he saw was King Steve.”
Robin softens, snark replaced with sympathy. “That sucks, Steve. I’m so sorry.” 
Steve sighs in agreement that yes this really fucking sucks. He sits up and scoots back so that he’s slumped against the wall, hitting the back of his head against it. “I think I’m a horrible person,” he admits, just venting now, “because of course I’m glad Eddie’s alive and all I really want is for him to be okay, and I know the nurse said he should remember eventually, but there’s still some sick part of me that thinks maybe it would’ve hurt less if he had just died.”
“I don’t think that makes you a horrible person,” Robin assures him as she settles next to him, shoulder to shoulder. “I think you’re just grieving, and grief is weird sometimes.”
“It was one of the worst things I’ve ever felt,” he mutters, “when he looked at me without recognition. To see it on his face, just the- the absence of everything that we’d built. I’ve never felt so- so- I don’t know, it was like I couldn’t breathe. He just- he doesn’t know that I love him. He…he doesn’t know that he loved me...” 
Because that’s what it is, isn’t it? It’s not that he’s lost someone that he loves, it’s that he’s lost someone who loves him. Because Eddie’s not gone, just his love for Steve is, and that’s what’s tearing him apart. It’s the fact that there’s one less person in the world who loves him. It’s the fact that Steve’s got this big gaping hole inside of him that’s always made him so desperate to be loved, liked, wanted, needed; and his biggest fucking fear is becoming obsolete. He could probably trace it back to his parents, the first to forget him, the first to stop loving him, but the fact remains that now Eddie has fulfilled that fear too. Now Eddie has carved that pit a little deeper, a little darker, validating the voice that whispers within it and tells Steve that he is forgettable, unlovable, so easy to abandon and erase. 
“Well, I love you,” Robin tells him, like she can read his mind (which, at this point, she probably can). She slides an arm around his shoulders, hugs him close. “And I’m not going anywhere.” 
Fragile as he is right now, Steve falls apart again in her arms, and she holds him together. Because she knows him, because she loves him.
It’s a quieter cry this time, soft and sniffly. Whereas the last one wracked through his body and left him fatigued, this one flows from him almost gently, and when his tears finally subside and he lifts his head from where it had been buried in his friend’s shoulder, Steve actually feels a little bit better, a little bit stronger. Which is good, because he’s gonna have to face Eddie again soon. 
“Thank you,” he says quietly as he pulls away from Robin, wiping at his eyes and glancing at the clock on her nightstand. It’s definitely been an hour by now, probably more. He stands. “I have to go, I promised the kids I’d take them to see Eddie.” 
“Then I’m coming too.” Robin stands with him. “For moral support.” 
Steve gives her a grateful smile. “I love you so fucking much, you know that?” 
“Yeah.” She grins at him. “I know.” 
The nurses have changed his bandages and upped his morphine, so Eddie’s considerably hazy now but at least he can raise his headrest and prop himself up a bit without nearly blacking out from pain. He’s boredly flicking through channels on the shitty TV in front of him, alone since Wayne had to leave for work, when Harrington returns followed by a very unexpected group consisting of Robin Buckley and four strange children. 
“Sorry,” Harrington announces their presence with an apologetic shrug, “I know you don’t know them anymore, but they insisted.” 
“Eddie!” a pudgy, curly-haired kid shouts before Eddie can even react, coming barrelling towards him and trying to hug him. 
“Ow!” Eddie yelps, pain flaring even through the extra morphine. “Fucking Christ, kid! Be careful!” 
The kid jumps back immediately, eyes wide. “Shit. Sorry.” 
“S’fine,” Eddie grumbles.
The kid looks at him expectantly for a moment before seeming to realize, “Oh, right, you don’t remember me. I’m Dustin.” 
“Ah, so you’re the guy I sacrificed myself for,” Eddie mutters, and Dustin looks a little sheepish. That means these must be ‘the kids’ Harrington had been talking about earlier. He surveys the group for a second. “Actually, I think we have met before,” he tells Dustin. “And you too.” He glances at a pale, dark-haired kid. The other two - a Black boy with a flat-top and a younger Black girl - look less familiar, though. “There was this, uh, open day thing at the high school for next year’s incoming freshmen; I talked to you about Hellfire.”
“Yeah!” Dustin’s whole face lights up, so bright and infectious it makes Eddie grin too. “Yeah, you did!” 
“So you guys joined the club, then?” 
This sparks a very animated conversation about D&D, the rest of the kids (Mike, Lucas, and Erica, as they soon reintroduce themselves) gathering around his bed now too to join in. It makes him feel a bit more like himself again, familiar, normal. Except, of course, for the fact that they’re not only talking about how they defeated Vecna in Eddie’s “totally epic” and “sadistic” campaign (adjectives courtesy of Dustin and Mike respectively), but also filling in more pieces of the story of how they defeated him in real life too. Still, it’s nice, fun. He totally understands how he could’ve gotten attached to these kids.
At some point, Eddie glances over to find Harrington hanging back and just watching them talk, fondly, wistfully. Robin whispers something to him and he sort of smiles, just a trace, and whispers something back. They seem close, intimate. Eddie wonders if they’re dating, and then he wonders why that thought makes him feel a bit sick. He waves them over. Harrington looks like he’s about to protest, but Robin gives him a Look and he allows her to grab his hand and drag him to join the crowd around Eddie’s bed. 
“So, what’s your deal, Buckley?” Eddie asks her. He doesn’t know her very well, they’ve only crossed paths a few times in the bandroom, but right now that makes her the most familiar person in the room to him. “Are you and Harrington a thing now? Is that how you’re involved in all this?” 
Robin wrinkles her nose and drops Harrington’s hand. “Ew, no. Definitely not.” 
“She’s my best friend,” Harrington says. 
Eddie snorts, doesn’t know why he finds that so comical. (He’s starting to get tired and it’s making him loopy. Or maybe it’s just the morphine.) “You've got a funny choice of friends nowadays, don’t you? Me and band geek Buckley and a bunch of nerdy freshmen.” He looks at Harrington with incredulous amusement. “Who would've thought, huh? Steve Harrington, collector of geeks and freaks.” 
Harrington doesn’t seem to find it as funny. He shrugs. “Yeah, well, it’s better than King Steve, collector of asshole bullies and shallow one-night stands.” 
“Yeah, ‘course it is,” Eddie agrees through another huff of laughter that breaks off into a yawn. “Didn’t mean it as a bad thing, Stevie. Was a compliment.” 
“Alright.” The barest hint of a smile flickers across Harrington’s face now, but then he’s looking away and corralling the kids and saying, “We should head out, let you get some rest.” 
And Eddie kind of wishes he’d stay.
(part three!)
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audisive · 3 months
Text
♪ PRETTY WHEN YOU CRY.  sad girl alternative
౨ৎ simon 'ghost' riley | reader
synopsis: you've had a bad day, simon's there to fix it.
tags: comfort, crying, self-indulgent, fluff
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  Your head laid on the skin of his arm, your face pushed into the comfort of his chest. The sharp edges of your earrings – your favorite ones, he recalls – sank and dug into his skin meanly, but he couldn't care less. As disgusting as it sounds, it could not compare to the way his heart ached to protect your own when he hears you take sharp inhales just to exhale with a sob, sniffles occasionally there to accompany your weeping. It was anything but his priority with the way his arms tightened around you and the way he'd hoped it would be enough to ease your worries and take your pain away; pass it onto him if you must. Anything to make you feel better.
Oh, the things he'd be willing to but could not do to instead receive a painfully unfunny joke from you in the place of your sobs. He settles on wiping the tears off your face, knowing how it makes you feel when it dries and sticks to your skin uncomfortably. The small droplets were everywhere and increased with every passing minute, but he took the time to wipe them off one by one. Had you not been in agony, you would've been in awe at the way this gigantically scary man was being so gentle with you; it was one of the best reminders of how his heart belonged to you and how well he'd taken care of your own.
Simon holds you forever – at least that's what it feels like – and whispers sweet nothings into your ear to distract you, even just for a little bit. "'S fine," he reassures you, each word filled with promise and not an ounce of doubt. "You'll be okay, y'hear me? I got you." It's warm, and he still faintly smells of gun powder, mixed with the well-used cologne you'd bought him for his birthday last year. You don't pay any mind to the smell of tobacco lingering; you know it's not his.
You've long since learned – all thanks to him – to refrain from apologizing for your show of vulnerability and emotions. It leaves you guilty, still, eating you up at night with the knowledge of his uneasiness when it comes to emotions, but for him, nothing's better than learning to get over his fears with his one and only love. Love always makes us do things we don't want to, right?
His arms found the way to wrap themselves around you heavily like a weighted blanket hours ago and have continued to stay. It serves as a comfort for you, along with his words. In his sweater, his arms, his bed, his room. He's all you can see and all you can feel, but you're not complaining, and neither is he.
You calm down after a moment, letting your breathing grow steady while the wet spots of tears in his sweater dried up. Simon Riley hates to see you cry, but damn it if he can't be the one to comfort you.
"There's m' pretty girl," he whispers in that charmingly rough yet gentle voice of his, looking down at the way your lashes glisten with salty little tears when you find the strength to press your cheek to his chest instead of burying your face in the warm surface. "Feelin' better now, sweets?" He's so terribly sweet to and with you that you think you might cry again just because. You barely even nod, but you know he notices; he always does.
"Y'wanna talk about it?" His hand plants itself onto your back; it gives you a sense of stability. Everything about him is so large in a way that engulfs you whole, and it would terrify any sane person. Perhaps you aren't, not anymore, but you found the warmth and comfort of your home in him. He kisses your forehead without so much as a pause when you shake your head. "A'right, we'll jus' stay here, then."
And stay, you do, cuddled up against him. It doesn't take long before all the crying takes its toll on you, your head starts to hurt, and your eyelids start to give up. Before you know it, you're pulled into the deep depths of unconsciousness. It's too early into the night; you've skipped two meals, and you've worked yourself near death. You know full well that you'll wake up with a raging headache after crying yourself to sleep, too. You'll wake up too early in the morning; your muscles will be sore, and you're still starving. You might as well pass out immediately after waking up.
Still, you sleep at ease and without worry. Why would you not? Simon will be there to fix it. ♡
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  divider by @cafekitsune !
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