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#i'm truly so happy with the place i'm at currently and i feel so at peace
exhaslo · 1 day
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Over-Time Ch3
(CEO!Miguel x Shy/Clumsy!Reader)
Ch1, Ch2
Warning: MINORS DNI, eventual smut, slow-burn, mentions of sex, bullying, cussing, fluff
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"On behalf of those of us at Alchemax, we would like to welcome you to our company. Please arrive at the Human Resources floor tomorrow with the information sent via email. We are happy to have you join us."
The shudder in your voice as you resisted the urge to squeal was sharp. You were at your current job, trying to hide from the crowd outside. This phone call was important, you told everyone that, and you were glad you took it.
"(Y/N)! GET OUT HERE WE NEED YOUR CLUMSY ASS!"
You yelped towards your coworker. Tears threatening to spill towards their harsh tone. Luckily you had just finished the phone call. How cruel could they be?
Hurrying back onto the floor, you yelped as another coworker tossed you a bunch of orders. Hurrying towards you station, you tried your best to make the orders but the pressure was getting to you. Everyone's yelling and the pace was too much.
"Strawberries, (Y/N)! Not Blackberries! Damn!"
"S-Sorry," You whimpered.
You hated working here. You hated this job, but this was the only place that could hire you fresh out of college. Everywhere you really wanted to work claimed that you didn't have enough work experience. Well how the hell were you supposed to get that if they didn't give you a shot?
"Hey, goofball, you're taking my shift tomorrow."
"H-Huh?!" You questioned, spilling the drink you were making, "Ah! No, no-"
"It's from 7am to 2pm."
"I-I can't!" You stuttered, trying to clean the mess you made, "I-I have s-something....something important to do!"
"Well change your plans, I already told the manager that you're taking my shift, goofball." Your coworker snapped before bumping into you, "Stop fucking up the drinks!"
You were biting the inside of your cheek as you tried your best to hold back your tears. You weren't going to let your cruel coworkers ruin your chance at a better life. You weren't going to deal with them anymore after today.
You just had to finish your shift.
And never look back.
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You woke up early for Alchemax. Triple checked all of your paperwork and identification. This was the most prepared you were ever going to be. You had blocked your current job from calling you so they wouldn't stress you out.
You even had some time to bake a small 'thank you' cake for Miguel, if you got the chance to see him. You were truly grateful for his help in getting you here. Hopefully it won't look weird on your end. This was just your way of thanking someone.
Once you arrived, you went up to the Human Resources floor to submit your information. As you waited, you focused on the elevator and saw Lyla step out.
"Ah, there you are." Lyla chirped, approaching you.
It was night and day from when you saw her during the interview. She was much more peppy than before.
"G-Good...morning," You whispered, feeling slightly nervous as to why she was looking for you.
"Is all her paperwork done?" Lyla asked the front desk lady, "Perfect, (Y/N), grab your stuff and follow me. I'm going to show you around~"
"Oh....Thank you,"
This felt strange. As you collected all of your things, you hurried behind Lyla. She was so nice and friendly. You weren't used to this, so it was a nice change of pace.
"Now that you're officially hired with us, you'll be getting paid for your time here today. I'm going to show you around the building first, then your station. I'm sure you'll love working here~!"
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Miguel grunted lowly as Lyla abandoned him during an important meeting. She wanted to meet you personally, leaving Miguel to suffer with the wolves. Miguel had very little patience with these men and now it was going to get worse.
Once the meeting was over, Miguel hurried back to his office. He needed a drink. There was only so much stupid and ignorance that he could deal with. Being a CEO was difficult. The patience that Miguel had to show was honestly a talent.
"This is the cafeteria! We have a large selection of goods here,"
Miguel could hear Lyla's voice from one of this monitors. Honestly, that woman was good at testing Miguel.
"Whoa, h-how much do we have....to pay for this?"
Groaning softly as Miguel sat at his desk, he took a sip of his vodka. Your soft voice now echoed from the monitor. Miguel resisted a chuckle as he watched the two of you walk around. Lyla must have set this up, normally Miguel only watched certain interviews.
"I've been meaning to ask, what's in the little box you've been carrying?" Lyla asked you.
"A-Ah....Um...I-I wanted to say thank you to...Miguel for helping me out. Is...Is it too much? I thought....I usually bake as a thank you," Your voice was getting lower as you started to cover your face.
"Hehe," Lyla looked directly at the camera, "I'm sure he will love it."
Miguel grunted in response as he drank the rest of his liquor. Lyla was abusing the fact that you didn't know that he was the CEO. Miguel couldn't wait until you did find out. How shocked would you get? How red would those cheeks turn?
Clicking his tongue at his thoughts, Miguel decided to meet with you. After all, it would be rude for you to be waiting much longer. You had a cake to give him.
How cute.
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Lyla was currently showing you some of the labs. There were a lot of floors that you weren't going to be anywhere near, but Lyla said it was good to know where everything was. Honestly, Alchemax was even more impressive than you thought.
Arriving at the next floor, you gasped softly as you made eye contact with Miguel once the doors open.
"Oh, Miguel, funny to find you on the relaxing floor," Lyla said with a grin.
"I don't find it strange at all," Miguel huffed and smiled towards you, "Ah, (Y/n), right?"
"Y-Yes!" You squeaked and lowered your head, "Um...I..."
Your heart was racing. This was weird. So very, very weird. Maybe you shouldn't have baked him a cake. Maybe just a thank you card was enough? You couldn't find the courage to give him the baked good. It was too embarrassing.
"Awe!" Lyla cooed and pulled Miguel inside the elevator, "Why don't I show (Y/n) where she will be working! Miguel, come with us."
"Sure," Miguel grunted lowly.
"Ah, here!" You nervously handed Miguel the cake, avoiding his gaze, "I....I wanted to say...thank you for...for helping me with the interview! S-So, thank you!"
"You didn't have too," Miguel smiled as he took the small box, "But thank you."
Finally raising your head, you felt your cheeks burn as Miguel smiled towards you. There were butterflies in your stomach as you watched him. Miguel was so kind and handsome. You hoped that you could see him often here.
"Huh? You can smile?" Lyla mocked Miguel, causing him to grunt.
"When is your vacation again?"
It was fascinating watching the two bicker. That sweet and kind Miguel was grumbling towards Lyla. As if they had been friends for quite some time. It made you feel even better about working here.
"Here is our floor! C'mon (Y/n), let's leave the brute to himself," Lyla chuckled, grabbing your hand.
"W-Wait...Isn't this the top floor-"
"Hm? Oh, yes, you were hired to be my replacement while I'm away on vacation. You're going to be the CEO's secretary." Lyla said casually.
Your eyes widen in shock. You wanted to question Lyla, but honestly, thinking about your interview, it made sense. Lyla just smiled as she showed you her office, wanting to get you comfortable.
"S-So...I'll be working...with the CEO?" You asked softly, taking a seat on her couch, "Um...How are they?"
"Ugh, so annoying. Always uptight, always cranky, never laughs or smiles. Honestly, this change will be good for all of us. I'm sure you can get that grunting brute to loosen up. The job is pretty easy itself as you've seen during your interview."
"Mhm, will there be...anything else I have to do?"
"Not much, but I'll go over all that with more details tomorrow. Why don't we work on your schedule as of right now?"
"Okay,"
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Miguel waited for you to enter Lyla's office before he could enter his. He took a seat at his desk and pulled out a fork as he undid the box you gave him. Miguel raised a brow at the cake before him, it was small and a little sloppy, but the effort was there.
Taking a bite of the cake, Miguel winced at the salty taste. You did admit that you were clumsy. Swallowing, Miguel went to grab a water before seeing a small note in the box.
"If it is too salty, I'm so sorry. There is a small packet of tea that goes well with salty items...just in case." Miguel read aloud.
Finding the tea packet, Miguel scoffed softly as he got himself a glass of hot water. You were well prepared. Miguel seemed to recall you saying that you only got clumsy when nervous. Were your nerves getting to you about the job?
"Well, can't have that now," Miguel hummed, drinking the tea, "I quite like (Y/n). She'd make a fine edition to the team."
"This is the big bad CEO's office," Lyla said from outside Miguel's doors.
Miguel just smiled as he imagined you on the other side. Lyla was making him to be oh so scary. Appraoching the door, Miguel kept a calm composure as he decided to open the doors.
"Stop scaring the new girl," Miguel hummed. He watched as your eyes widen,
"Huh? Miguel? Y-You're...You're the C-CEO?"
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How do you think Alastor will react to the realization that it is actually possible for Sinners to be redeemed if and/or when word of Pentious's ascension gets back to the Hotel? He seemed sincere in his desire to watch demons struggle and fail to better themselves when he first hired himself into the position of facility manager, but since S1 it seems more likely he's really only there to get his hooks into Charlie and doesn't actually care if the Hotel succeeds or fails as long as he gets what he wants out of the princess.
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"The world's a stage, and a stage is a world of entertainment" -Alastor
Hello my pal,
Pilot Alastor does seem more motivated by his whims and wanting entertainment. (I mean, if you have to all eternity...Things get mundane...) But with Amazon picking up the show, he clearly has more motives beside being at the hotel for funsies. I'm sure, he always meant to have a lot of plot around him before Amazon but we actually get content and episodes to feed us.
Side note: I love both versions of Alastor. But I like pilot slightly more. I think his voice is more fitting for the transatlantic radio host voice (no offence of the current one at all. He doing great and probably done a better job on delivery...I mean that Fuck you was perfect.) Also, I really miss Alastor boots/hoofs click clacking around the hotel when he walked. I wish they kept that sound effect.
I think his reaction would really depend on who he contracted to and what his real hidden objective is with the hotel. Like...is he chained to Lilith and he not there for the hotel but to protect and help Charlie?
Or is he there to make sure the hotel fails to prevent an uprising, and forcing Heavens hand?
Is he placed there to get close and keep on eye on things and trick Charlie?
Is he there to make sure it succeeds so Heaven foundations begin to crumble and plants seeds of doubt amongst other things.
Overall, I think Alastor believe redemption was a loss cause. Even, if he was told my his contractor that it was possible he always doubted it. He made his point in the pilot. Paraphrase: Sinners are past redemption. Their chance was the life they lived before, the punishment of their actions is Hell. I think Alastor truly believes that. Or at least wants it to be that way. We know Alastor was a serial killer with a weird moral code and killed people who deserved it. I think Alastor would hate the idea that his victims has a chance for a place in Heaven if he hadn't double dead them already. Alastor knows how terrible people can be...hes one of them. I think the idea sinners like him having a chance to share a space with his mother in heaven puts a foul taste in his mouth.
So when its proven Redemption is possible. I think he will be quite stunned and shocked. He'll act ecstatic for show and probably his generally happy for Charlie achieving her dream. But depending the reason why he there and how he owns him, he going to be strongly conflicted.
Possible panic/nervous if he failed his objective and had to deal with the person who owns his soul, as they will be very displeased with him because of that fact. Perhaps worried, because it furthers his master's objective *CoughCough Roo CoughCough* Which is something he personally against, but doesnt have a say in the matter. Or maybe he just painfully conflicted as he knows the playing field is nearly completed on being set up and the time to betray Charlie and the others is rapidly approaching. -He grew attached to them and he faltering on the idea to betray (destroy?) them. Panics as years of planning and effort to fulfilling his masters objective that would release him from his deal once completed...only to hesitate because of some fond feelings for naive weaklings? Afraid to incur his master wrath and lost of freedom if he failed because he was swayed by his pathetic feelings. Or maybe hes excited because his part of the deal is over...but still feel conflicted as it would place the hotel and its people in a bad and dangerous position.
This is why Alastor is such a fun character. He a wild card. He can go in any direction...Hell, he can go in all directions. He can rationally plan and think one way, his feelings going screw that and head in another direction, fulfilling his obligations as overlord and hotelier in another direction, and his chained soul can just flip off all the former force them to go in the direction directed by the master holding the chain.
I believe despite Alastor disbelieving in redemption in the beginning, or maybe slightly oppose it. He is slowly warming up (but still not even room temperature) to the idea as his fondness grows to the residents of the hotel. He observes how the residence became better. How some (Angel) gone through enough in Hell that perhaps his sins he committed in his short life has been overpaid. Eternity is long and can be harsh...as some sinners may already sin once to be damned for all of eternity.
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chloecherrysip · 11 months
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Mario watching his and Luigi's commercial in Punch-Out Pizzeria
#mario movie#mario movie spoilers#mario and luigi#super mario bros#super mario bros movie#super mario bros movie spoilers#cherrysip edits#if you got notifications about gifs from this set yesterday shhhhhhh i was having PROBLEMS#anyway i'm currently working on a gifset for the whole scene of mario getting back up in the pizzeria but then I HAD THIS IDEA#and i was like 'wow that sounds like a comparison that's going to cause me emotional pain' and i was right it absolutely did :) :) :)#[gesturing wildly to gifs while tears stream down my face] U DON'T UNDERSTAND MARIO IS IN THE EXACT SAME PLACE BOTH TIMES#the first time he's nervous but also SO excited and happy about what the future is gonna bring and seeing this commercial is#the culmination of everything he and luigi have been striving for and they're holding each other tight and the world feels wide open#and the second time everything is different. mario has been beaten down. he is terrified and aching and exhausted and convinced#that everyone has been right about him. he's a joke. he's a failure. the only thing he's ever done for his brother is drag him down.#but then he sees the commercial and everything comes back. the joy and the excitement and him and luigi against the world#the only difference is that he doesn't have his brother next to him and that's everything. mario doesn't feel whole otherwise#mario always does his best but when he and luigi are together working in sync he truly feels like anything is possible#and now his brother is out there somewhere in the chaos and bowser isn't gonna stop. he's gotta get up again. he does get up again.#IT'S A LOT BASICALLY. IT'S A WHOLE LOT AND I LOVE THEM DEARLY
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unbidden-yidden · 3 months
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I'm gonna be honest here: one of the more exhausting parts of the online discourse is how much of a tightrope I am always on, that those of us who care about human rights for all human beings are always on, because any statement made in favor of the "other" side is ripe for tokenism.
I, as a Jew, care about the safety and human rights of Palestinians and Arab Israelis. You will never convince me that there is an ethical way to kill civilians, especially children. You will never convince me that police brutality against citizens marching for their civil rights is necessary. You just can't. And yet I have to be so careful when/where I say that and how I say that, because too often this simple acknowledgement that all people are created in the image of Hashem and should be treated accordingly is ripped out of context and placed between a deluge of other posts denying my people that very same acknowledgement. The number of times I have said these things, only to go into the reblogs and see my words surrounded on all sides with violent antisemitism? I've lost count.
And guess what? It's made me less effective as an advocate, it has actively silenced me from speaking up sometimes, because I refuse to be your "good Jew," your token, somebody whose words can be misconstrued to kasher your vile hatred of my people. And to be very clear: Jewish Israelis are my people just as much as fellow diaspora yidden are, and they deserve better from both goyim and diaspora Jews alike.
And I've seen this go the other way, too: I've seen Palestinian activists and journalists who are trying very hard to balance the values of respecting other people (including Israelis and/or Jews writ large) as fellow human beings with the pain that their people are currently suffering. And I've seen their words ripped out of context and used to excuse more violence against them and their people.
And then there are lots of other people - genuinely well-intentioned people who are trying to learn from me - who keep treating me like I'm some paragon of nuance. I'm trying, truly, but I'm Just Some Guy. You know what I do? It's extremely simple and I promise you can do it too, any of you, if you slow down long enough to think before putting anything out there: "Would I say this about my brother? My mom? My daughter? My people? Would I be happy if the person I loved most on this earth was living under these circumstances and being talked about in whatever way I'm about to speak? Would it feel victim-blaming? Would it feel disrespectful of their struggle or dishonest? Does it ignore their history or trauma? Is it actually helping?" These are the types of questions I try very hard to ask myself every time I post about the conflict, about both sides. I try to talk about this as if the people on both sides were my family. Because truthfully? They are. Am Yisrael is a family, before anything else. Palestinians are our closest cousins. This war is a bloodbath and a tragedy, and everyone is suffering. For those of us who are not living there, please remember this and have some respect.
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little-diable · 3 months
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Darling oh Darling - Cowboy!Jasper Hale (smut)
Yes, I'm in a cowboy mood alright, y'all just have to endure it for a while. But I have to say, I truly love how this turned out, so I think y'all will be able to forgive me for this current fixation. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx
Summary: The reader works at Carlisle Cullen's ranch, where she crosses paths with one of his sons, a guy who instantly catches her interest.
Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, oral (f), quite fluffy, yet filthy
Pairing: Jasper Hale x fem!reader (2.8k words)
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“You alright there, darlin’?” The man’s voice ripped her out of her thoughts, eyes flickering up to meet his golden ones. Jasper Hale, son of the owner on whose ranch (y/n) was currently working. She hadn’t crossed paths with Jasper yet, had only studied him from a safe distance, feeling an ever-growing respect for the man who handled horses better than anybody else she knew.
“Yeah, sorry, I don’t know how I got them all tangled up.” Her eyes wandered back down to the reins she held, trying to untangle them. His chuckles left her smiling, growing stiff as his cold hand found hers, gently pulling the reins from her grasp. Within seconds Jasper had them untangled, smirking in victory. “How did you do that?”
“Just takes lots of practice, but don’t worry you’ll get the hang of it eventually. (Y/n), is it?” Jasper took off his cowboy hat, combing through his golden locks before he placed the hat back on his head, leaning against the stable door. (Y/n) could only hum, eyes momentarily wandering up and down his frame, trying not to pay the way his clothes fit him all too perfectly any attention, muscles bulging beneath the fabrics. “It’s good to have a face to that name finally, my dad seems to have a soft spot for you.”
“Carlisle’s great, I’m very thankful for everything he’s done for me.” Carlisle and (y/n) had crossed paths at the hospital, sharing details about one another as he had taken a look at her gaping wound. And within a few minutes, she had left his room with a job offer, debating working at his ranch for the summer. Carlisle had given her the ticket out of a toxic household, allowing her to figure out where she truly belonged, and what she wanted to do with the rest of her life – and what better place for a time away from home than a ranch filled with kind people. 
“Well, we’re very happy about having a new helping hand around, especially one that’s this pretty to look at.” If she had been drinking something, (y/n) probably would have choked on her sip, eyes growing wide at the comment that had just rolled off Jasper’s tongue. She struggled to come up with a reply, not used to hearing words like these from a man who looked as handsome as Jasper, but she was saved by the call of his name, forcing him away from her with a quiet “See you around, darlin’” leaving him. 
……
“(Y/n)!” Her head whipped towards the meadow, squinting her eyes to look at Jasper, blinded by the bright sun. “Come on over here, darlin’.”
She walked through the high grass, grinning at the guys who were standing close to Jasper, holding onto their horses’ reins. With her hands placed on her waist, she came to a halt close to the grinning man who had called for her, waiting for him to keep on speaking, wondering why he had called her over in the first place. 
“We’re about to go for a ride, Emmett’s desperate for some adventure.” Her eyes found the golden ones of Jasper’s brother, shooting Emmett a quick smile before her gaze flickered back to the brother she found herself drawn to. “You wanna join us?”
“Well, I have no horse.” Jasper’s soft chuckles left her heart skipping beats, trying not to spare the anticipation bubbling inside of her much thought as he reached his hand out for her to take. His cold touch was happily welcomed, biting down her relieved groan at the coldness momentarily distracting her from the heat of the sun. 
“You can ride with me, but I can’t promise we’ll go slow.” She stared up at him with a challenging grin tugging on her lips, slowly shaking her head as she let go of his hand, swinging herself up onto his horse. 
“Don’t worry, I’m not one for taking things slowly.” The other guys shared her chuckles, grinning at the two as Jasper saddled up behind (y/n), wrapping an arm around her waist to press her against his chest.
“Good, we like a good challenge around here, darlin’.” With his heel pressed into his horse’s side, they started riding, chasing after the other guys who had already started riding away from the ranch, through the high grass. (Y/n) tried not to focus on the feeling of Jasper’s muscular front pressing against her back, tried not to focus on the feeling of his middle meeting her behind with every fast trod, unable to focus on the beautiful nature they were racing through. 
Her heart was pounding, fuelled by excitement, finally able to feel that carefree sensation she had been hungry for. She hadn’t felt like this in years, able to let go of her worries, to enjoy the company of people who made her feel safe, people who seemed to genuinely enjoy having her around. 
“You alright, feeling comfortable?” Jasper rasped his words, breath clashing against her neck as he spoke to her, accent growing thicker with every syllable rolling off his tongue. (Y/n) could only hum, leaning further into his grasp, not wanting to escape this closeness anytime soon. She tried not to overthink it, tried not to analyse the way he behaved around her, but yet (y/n) couldn’t help but hope he felt that same pull in his chest, wanting to feel her even closer, even more intimately. 
……
The sound of the crackling wood left her smiling, sinking further into the chair she was sitting on, wrapped up in a warm blanket. They had returned from their ride a few hours ago, splitting up to go shower, feed their horses and finish their jobs for the day before they met here, at the bonfire.
One of the guys had brought his guitar, singing some songs for the group as they enjoyed their beer, whisky, and the company of one another. Jasper was sitting next to her, wearing a big dark jacket that almost swallowed his whole upper body, paired with his dark hat that perfectly sat atop his golden locks. She could watch the reflection of the dancing fire in his pupils, admiring the way his eyes seemed to change colour now and then. 
“Thank you for taking me with you today.” (Y/n) murmured the words towards Jasper, smiling at the man who turned his head towards her, no longer focusing on his brothers. He matched his smile, hand reaching out to grasp hers for a moment, squeezing her fingers. The touch almost left her gasping, still not used to feeling this breathless around Jasper. 
“Of course, thank you for joining us, darlin’. I enjoy having you around.” For a second she could watch his gaze flicker from her eyes to her lips, a second that was over way too soon, wondering if she had only imagined it. Did he feel the same excitement she did? Did he feel the same pull inside his chest? “It’s beautiful, isn’t it? I never saw a sky this starry anywhere else.”
He had his gaze now focused on the sky, hand still holding onto hers. (Y/n) allowed herself to study Jasper for another second before she followed his gaze, admiring the stars twinkling for them. The sight had something so calming to it that (y/n) feared she’d never be able to rip her eyes away. Her heart began to slow its beat, distracted by the view she was now focusing on, slowly adjusting to feeling Jasper this close. 
“It is, I don’t think I’ll ever get used to it.” Her whispers made him chuckle, tightening his grip on her as he felt her shudder. She felt him growing tense for just a moment, debating his next move before he murmured her name, forcing her to look at him. 
“C’mon, move over. Carlisle would kill me if I’d let you freeze.” Heat flushed through her as she slowly rose to her feet, chuckling in surprise as Jasper pulled her into his lap, arms wrapped around her. With her face nuzzled into his neck, high on the musky scent of his cologne, she tried to focus on the warmth his big jacket emanated, distracting her from the cool touch of his. 
“Thank you.” The words were murmured against his skin, barely audible, yet Jasper picked up on them all too easily. He rested his chin on her head, grinning at his brothers who raised their eyebrows at him, smirking at Jasper. From the first moment he had spoken to (y/n), Jasper had known that she was destined to be his, belonging to the man who had yet to share the family secret with her, hoping that she wouldn’t run from him and the life he could offer her. 
“Tired?” Jasper felt her growing relaxed in his touch, breaths growing softer. A hum left (y/n), eyes no longer open, clinging to the comfort his closeness offered, luring her further into sleep’s trap. Before she could even realise what he was doing, Jasper rose to his feet, arms tightly wrapped around her to carry (y/n) towards the house. She was too tired to protest, allowing Jasper to step into the room she was staying in, placing her down on her bed. 
“Will you stay?”
……
A groan ripped through (y/n) as her eyes fluttered open. It took her eyes a second to focus, breath hitching in her chest. Jasper was lying next to her, one arm wrapped around (y/n)’s waist, the other placed behind his head. His chest was bare – just the sight shot shudders down her spine, slowly remembering how she had asked him to stay. 
“Morning, darlin’.” His golden eyes met hers, grinning at the way she clearly struggled to speak up, tongue running along her lower lip, heavily swallowing before she murmured a soft “Morning”. Jasper’s chuckles vibrated through his body, he tightened his grip on her, allowing his free hand to cup her cheek, “Now, don’t grow all shy on me.” 
“Sorry.” (Y/n) didn’t know what to say, not daring to look away as she felt his thumb on her lip, softly stroking her skin. The touch left her shuddering, silently praying that he’d close the gap between them. And with a smile tugging on Jasper’s lips, he seemed to answer her prayer, softly kissing her, giving (y/n) a chance to pull away before he’d deepen the kiss.
But she kept close, hands getting tangled in his locks, gasping against his mouth as he shifted them around, hovering over her. His tongue found hers as his hands disappeared beneath her shirt, exploring her soft skin, momentarily freezing before he found her breasts. He pulled away from her, leaving (y/n) whimpering at the sudden loss, “Tell me if you want me to stop, don’t wanna make you uncomfortable, darlin’.”
“Touch me, Jasper, fuck, been thinking of this for way too long.” The words she spoke left Jasper groaning, lips finding hers again as his hands cupped her breasts, tugging on her hardening nipples. He shifted around, and pressed his knee against her clothed heat, giving her just enough friction to coax a moan out of her, begging him for more. 
“Been thinking of this too, fucked my hand to the thought of you every single morning these past days.” Jasper’s raspy voice made her drip, grinding her core against his thigh in a desperate need for more friction, needing to feel his fingers closer to her cunt. “Such an eager girl, don’t worry, I’ll take good care of you.” 
With the fabric of her shirt pushed up to her chest, Jasper kissed his way down her stomach, moving further down the mattress to rest between (y/n)'s thighs, slowly pulling her damp panties down her legs. He looked at her with lust laced in his gaze, eyes darker than ever before, forcing her blood to sing in her ears at the mere sight of Jasper. 
His warm breath clashed against her cunt, eyes meeting hers as he sucked on her pulsing bundle, tongue brushing through her arousal-covered folds for a first taste. Jasper had his arms wrapped around her legs to keep her close, not daring to give (y/n) a chance to move away just yet, set on pushing her over the edge with his tongue before he’ll fuck her.
“I can’t wait to feel you clenching my cock, already so tight around my fingers.” Jasper’s words left (y/n) moaning in excitement, arching her back off the mattress at the feeling of his fingers fucking her, nudging her swollen spot. “Talk to me darlin’, tell me what you need.”
“Just you, fuck, just need you, your fingers, your cock, everything.” The devilish grin Jasper shot her left (y/n) breathless, tightening her grip on her covers as his mouth found its way back to clit. He heard her breaths growing shallow, walls fluttering around his fingers, about to cum with his name rolling off her tongue.
The view had something awfully obscene to it, with him resting between her quivering thighs, pupils fully dark, mouth pressed against her cunt. She was dripping for him, making a mess on the covers, on his mouth that devoured her as if she was his last meal. Without another warning, (y/n) felt her orgasm rocking through her, more violently than any other had ever taken over her system, close to passing out. Heavy pants left her, ripping through her as the sensation kept clinging to her, only allowing her to rest as he slowly pulled away from her. 
“Heaven, you’re a sight for sore eyes, darlin’, I’ve never seen something this pretty. I can’t wait to ruin you with my cock.” He pressed a kiss to her swollen lips, chuckling at the excited whimper ripping through (y/n). She tried to wrap her aching thighs around his waist, keeping him close as Jasper shuffled out of his underwear, exposing his twitching cock to her wide eyes. 
“Want to feel all of you, I‘m on the pill, just take me bare, please.” Jasper didn’t comment on the way he didn’t need to use a condom anyways, grinning down at her as he spat into his palm, lubing his aching cock. Their eyes held contact as he pushed into her, groaning loudly at the feeling of her tight walls clenching him. 
Her eyes fluttered close, head pressed further into the pillow to fully focus on the feeling of his calculated, ruthless thrusts. Jasper didn’t hold back, he fucked her into the mattress with a strength that would leave her bruises for weeks. She kept choking on his name, fingernails scratching at his skin, trying to keep herself from cumming too fast, already close to letting go once again.
“Such a pretty sight, wish I could wake up to this every single morning.” Their eyes met for a brief moment, a moment she used to give him a slight push, rolling on top of Jasper. He stared up at her with a smirk, helping her ride him. “Take what you need, such a greedy girl.”
“Need it so bad, don’t let me go, Jas’.” He was mesmerised by the sight of her, allowing one hand to wander up her body, exposing her chest to his hungry eyes. (Y/n) momentarily stopped moving to pull the fabric over her head, fully bare for him and his wandering eyes. Curses rolled off Jasper’s tongue at the sight, hips jerking to meet her movements, needing to push her over the edge. 
She struggled to keep up her pace as the welcomed sensation crawled up her body once again, gasping as Jasper flipped them around once again, fucking her through her high. He watched her fall apart beneath him, eyes squeezed shut, lips parted, chest heaving. It was a sight he’d never forget, forever remembering their first morning together. 
Jasper came a few seconds later, groaning (y/n)’s name into the crook of her neck, giving it a few more lazy thrusts. For a few moments, they kept quiet, simply holding one another, enjoying the blissful state they were trapped in. Only as Jasper slowly pulled away did (y/n) allow her eyes to flutter open, matching the smile he wore on his lips. 
“I don’t think I’ll be able to walk for a while.” (Y/n) whispered her words, hiding her face behind her hands as Jasper broke out in laughter.
“Good, means I’ve done everything right. But don’t worry, I wouldn’t let you escape this room anytime soon anyway.”
465 notes · View notes
courtforshort15 · 1 year
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Green is the Color
Pairing: Matt Murdock x FemReader
Word Count: 7,200
Summary: Karen Page looks flawless next to Matt in a way that you don’t. Insecurities and jealousies were bound to pop up at some point.
Trigger warnings: None. Just some angst with a happy ending.
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You're jealous of Karen.
Beautiful, smart, sweet Karen who has never been anything but kind to you. Leggy, slender, blonde Karen who catches eyes effortlessly wherever she goes. Determined, self-sacrificing, truth-seeking Karen who seems genuinely interested in what you have to say, who seems honestly happy to see you whenever you join them out as a group.
And though you're the one who sleeps in Matt's bed more often than not, though you're the one he whispers soft, sweet things to while he holds your hand as you walk home, though you're the one he calls when he's hurt or happy or needing you with him, you can't help but be jealous of her.
They look flawless together. She's light where he is dark. She is petite in everything but height, and he is made of muscle and broad shoulders. She is sweet and open where he is charming and dangerous when you truly look at him. 
They are beautiful, standing together laughing loudly, and you are not the only one who notices.
"God, some people have all the luck, don't they?" A woman next to you at the bar says to her friend. It’s your turn to buy the drinks for the group, and you're waiting patiently as Josie helps another patron. The conversation catches your ear, and you're not exactly surprised when you notice they're talking about Matt and Karen. It's not the first time you've heard something of this sort.
"They'd have such beautiful babies," the other woman replies, and the sound of her voice and the words being said pierces into your skin. "They look so good together it almost hurts. I hate them."
The women gather their drinks with shared laughter and walk away, leaving you to yourself while you wait on Josie. Your cheeks burn in something akin to shame and sadness, the realization that you'll never look as good next to him as Karen does. And though Matt has told you time and time again how much he loves you, it's not the first shred of doubt you've felt. 
Hearing someone else echo the things that have lived inside your heart for so long drives a sharp blade into your chest, and you struggle as you work to maintain your breathing, knowing Matt will pick up on the irregularity. You're in a crowded bar and Matt is a few drinks in, so you think you're safe at your current distance away, but the second you join the group, he'll be able to tell that something is off if you don't force yourself to calm down.
With a fake grin that pulls sharply at the corners of your suddenly dry mouth, you thank Josie when she sets your drinks in front of you, and you slowly make your way back over to them where they're playing a game of pool. You set the drinks on the table next to them, and Foggy immediately dives into the beer you've brought over. 
Karen thanks you for her drink with a smile, and Matt squeezes your hand in appreciation before he plays the part of an ordinary blind man and pretends to be awful at the game. It's all in good fun for him, though you all know he could whip everyone's ass, and he gasps in fake shock whenever he sinks a ball intentionally that he pretends is unintentional for the benefit of whatever bystander may be nearby. 
Matt says something that makes Karen laugh, and she places a hand on his shoulder as he smiles. Matt is your boyfriend, the man you'd gladly spend the rest of your life with, but you suddenly feel like an intruder in your own relationship. 
With a grimace you hope no one notices, you toss your drink back, setting the glass loudly back on to the table. 
"I think I'm going to call it a night," you tell the group, already turning to grab your purse. Immediately they all protest, asking you to stay for another game, or at least another round of drinks. You try to make the smile on your face look as warm and friendly as it always is, but you know you fail on some level. But in everyone's inebriated state, they all take it as completely genuine. 
"Alright, sweetheart," Matt says easily, placing his cue stick in the rack, turning to grab his suit jacket from where it's been tossed over one of the chairs. "We can leave. Are you staying with me tonight? Or do you want me to come over to your place?"
"No, it's totally fine," you object instantly, already taking a few steps away in an effort to distance yourself. "You should stay and have fun."
He waves your protest away with a smile. "We’ve been here for a while already. We can head out.”
You let out a laugh that surprisingly doesn’t sound nearly as fake as it feels. “You guys won a big case today. You deserve to stay out and celebrate.”
“She’s right, Matt!” Foggy calls out from the other side of the table before he takes a long sip of his beer. “We deserve all the alcohol that Josie can provide us with tonight. That case was a nightmare.”
Your laugh is a little more genuine this time, eyeing the way Foggy sways when he puts his beer down. Karen isn’t faring much better, if the flush on her cheeks is anything to go by. “Stay, Matt. I’ll be okay getting home.”
The easy smile has left his face, and he makes his way over to you. You stay rooted to the spot, knowing that rejecting his advancements would tip him off to the fact that something is wrong. There's also the factor that you hate denying him any sort of affection he needs to give or take from you, so you stand still and wait for him. When he’s in front of you, he reaches a hand up and pushes a piece of hair behind your ear, rubbing a finger over your cheekbone with the movement.
“Are you alright?” He asks quietly, his voice meant for only your ears. “I can at least walk you home if you want.”
You turn your head to press a light kiss to the inside of his wrist, unable to deny yourself the warmth that his closeness brings you. “I’m just tired, and I think my stomach is a little off.” This close to you, he should be able to tell a lie from the truth, but the words that leave your mouth are honest enough. You’re tired of feeling inadequate, and your stomach is reeling with the thought of other people seeing what you see when you look at Matt and Karen.
The excuse you’ve given him is completely true, he just doesn’t know the reasons behind them.
“Then I should definitely–”
Smiling slightly, you shake your head. “I’ll take a cab home. I want you to stay with your friends and have a good time. You earned it."
Matt sighs and reluctantly agrees to let you leave without him, but not before pulling you in close and placing a gentle kiss on your lips. “I’ll call you later, alright? If you’re still up, I’ll come over when I’m done tonight.”
“That works,” you say with a small shrug. A small smile slides across his face, and he pulls you in one more time to press his mouth to yours, before he takes a step back and turns to face his friends. You send Foggy and Karen a quick wave and another false smile, before making your way to the door.
You don’t miss the way the two women from before not-so subtly eye you up and down with their eyebrows raised, no doubt finding you lacking for a beautiful man such as Matt, especially when compared to the gorgeous woman that is one Karen Page.
Your cheeks burn again, but you push past the women without a word.
When you’re all settled in bed, you curl your knees up to your chest, yanking your heavy blankets over you in an effort to keep yourself in and the rest of the world out. A few tears cloud your vision, but you squeeze your eyes tightly shut to keep them from slipping out. If Matt were to stop by, he’d smell the salt of the tears, and nothing would stop him from getting an answer out of you for why you were upset.
He’d know if you were lying, no longer distracted by his friends and the loud noise of the bar, and you’d be unable to persuade him to let it go. Feelings would tumble from your mouth unchecked, and he’d either be angry or hurt at your accusations. 
…or worse, he’d admit that he feels the way about Karen that the rest of the world has decided he should.
In order to keep that from happening, you turn your phone on do not disturb in an effort to make sure you’re not woken up by his call, hopefully keeping him away for the night if he decides not to disturb your sleep.
You ignore the way your heart twists painfully in your chest.
****************
“That looks awful, Foggy,” you tell him as you step into the office of Nelson, Murdock & Page a month later, eyeing the way his face is peeling from an awful sunburn he’d gotten on a trip to Florida to visit his parents. “Do you need me to go and get some aloe for you?”
Foggy laughs, but immediately winces as the expression on his face pulls at the skin that already looks extremely painful. “I’ve got some in my drawer,” he says, motioning to the bottom part of his desk. “I’ve been told to reapply several times during the day. Thank God I don’t have any clients coming in today. I'll just be here all day working through some case items with Matt.”
“That’s good at least,” you say, walking forward and placing a sandwich on Foggy’s desk before taking a seat in one of their lobby chairs, waiting for Matt to arrive so that you can have lunch with him in his office. You’d picked up sandwiches from his favorite deli, including one for Foggy, knowing Matt won’t have time to go out and meet up with you somewhere today.
“Thanks for bringing this, by the way,” Foggy says with the biggest smile he can offer with the way the skin has tightened on his face. “Though, I’m not quite sure how I’m going to open my mouth wide enough to eat this.”
You send him a sympathetic look. “I can’t imagine. It looks super uncomfortable.”
Foggy snorts. “If I can deal with watching Matt kiss Karen in the hospital that one time, I can deal with this. Now that was uncomfortable.”
Your blood runs cold. 
“Matt…kissed Karen?” You ask, heart hammering uncomfortably in your chest, the increased speed sharp and painful as it pounds relentlessly. “When was that?”
Foggy must not hear the way your voice has changed, too busy trying to take a bit of his sandwich. “During the Punisher case. I like…turned to look at them, and bam. A full smack of his lips against hers, and it looked just as uncomfortable for me as it was for them.”
“So this…was a while ago?” 
Foggy freezes, finally glancing back up at you, a confused frown on his face. “Matt didn’t tell you?”
You shift in your seat, trying to appear as nonchalant as possible, but you're not quite sure if you pull it off. “Tell me what?”
He shakes his head. “I mean, it’s no big deal, really. They only dated for a small period of time, and it’s barely even worth mentioning, to be honest. It was right as Elektra came back into the picture.”
Ah, Elektra.
The woman whose scars you’ve been steadily trying to heal ever since you met him.
“Do you think it would have gone anywhere if Elektra hadn’t come back?” You ask hesitantly, fingernails biting into the palm of your hand. Foggy looks thoughtful.
“I’m not sure,” he says, appearing to think about it. “They definitely liked each other. It could have been something, had either one of them been truthful with each other. To be honest, I kind of thought they would try again after everything with Fisk, but they’ve remained just friends.”
You glance down at your hands, struggling to take a deep breath. When you glance back up, Foggy is frowning heavily.
“Are you okay?”
Forcing a smile on your face, you nod, trying to get rid of the images of beautiful Karen and handsome Matt, standing next to each other and smiling, like they had that night at Josie’s. The picture of them together flashes through your head almost brutally. “Yeah, I’m totally fine. I just didn’t know is all,” you tell him with a shrug of your shoulders. “And I’m super hungry, so I think I’m a little out of it.”
Foggy looks at you, eyes narrowing in consideration, before his face brightens again. “I totally feel that. Like…my life is perpetually split into two sections; eating, or thinking about when I’m going to eat again. My stomach is forever calling out for food.”
You laugh, and while you find what he’s said amusing, it’s not enough to drown out the roaring in your ears. The new knowledge has sent you spiraling, and it’s like every thought you’ve had about the two of them is standing in front of you, taunting you. Matt and Karen had at one point been together. Maybe only for a short period of time, according to Foggy, but feelings had been there, and you can’t help but think that you were possibly the thing that was standing in the way of the universe correcting itself.
Foggy has thankfully turned back to his sandwich, and you pray for the floor to open up and swallow you whole.
Your phone rings, and you pull it out of your purse, grateful for the first time in your life to see your boss’s name flashing across the screen.
“Hello?”
“Hey,” her voice greets you, “I know you’re taking your lunch, but is there any way you can come back early? Someone in accounting messed up the data you’ve collected, and I could really use some help getting it sorted back out. It needs to be resubmitted by the end of the day.”
Perfect. 
“Yes, I can be there in ten. I’ll see you soon.”
Your boss hangs up, and you’re shoving your phone into your purse as you rise up from your chair. “I have to go, work emergency,” you tell Foggy in explanation as he looks at you questioningly. “Will you give Matt his lunch and tell him I’m sorry I missed him?”
He nods with a small grin, gingerly wiping his mouth with a napkin as he swallows, careful to not rub too hard. His skin really does look painful. “I’ll tell him to give you a call later. He’ll be sad that he didn’t get to spend lunch with you.”
Your heart aches painfully in your chest. You’re sad, too, but right now the relief far outweighs the disappointment. You’re not sure you’d be able to handle sitting across from him right now, insecurities and negative thoughts spreading through your entire body like an uncontrollable wildfire. 
Matt has always made your heart pound relentlessly in your chest, the mere thought of him sending you into overdrive. His wide smile. His cocky smirk. His beautiful eyes he only lets a select few see. His soft skin.
But now your heart is pounding for a whole different reason, the anxiety ensnaring you so completely in such a small period of time, and you don’t want him around to witness the fallout that’s bound to happen.
You send one last smile to Foggy, and if he notices the panic and misery in it, he doesn’t say anything.
*****************
The final nail in the coffin happens at a fundraiser Nelson, Murdock & Page had been invited to. The fundraiser was raising money to help underprivileged individuals afford legal counsel when charged with petty crimes, and the firm is happy to attend and donate what they can to the cause. 
Matt had asked you to accompany him, wide smile on his face while he told you about the mission and purpose, and you readily accepted his invitation to join. He seemed so eager and excited, and you couldn't have thought of an excuse to justify not going if you tried.
You’d picked out a beautiful dress for the evening. Red and black, an echo of the black he wears out at night, and the red of his sharp lenses, two different personas he puts on for the world. You prefer Matt in sweat pants and a hoodie with large fuzzy socks pulled up mid-shin, but you love all pieces of him, and this dress reminds you of the person he chooses to be for his city.
He’s running late, which is unsurprising, given the long day he’d had in court. He warned you earlier that his work day may run over, but that he’d join the group as quickly as possible. 
You enter the fundraiser with Foggy, Karen, and Marci instead, taking in the way the lobby of the museum has transformed into a beautiful layout filled with cocktail tables that are covered with sleek black cloths and lit-up centerpieces. The lighting is low and almost romantic, a soft jazz band is playing on a stage directly ahead, and there are various decorations and balloons in hues of blues and purples.
It’s not necessarily a black-tie event, but people are dressed beautifully as they talk amongst themselves, weaving in and out of the crowd as they greet and strike up new conversations with people who have just walked in. It’s not exactly surprising when an older woman walks up to the group with a smile on her face, arms outstretched for a hug. Your group of lawyers is bound to run into people they know.
“Foggy,” she greets warmly, pulling him in, squeezing him to her. Foggy leans in immediately, beaming at the woman.
“Emily,” he says with a kiss to her cheek. “Always wonderful to see you.” He turns to the rest of the group, arm still around her shoulders. “Everyone, this is Emily Davidson. She is an old friend of the family.”
She smiles broadly at the group, before lifting her face back towards Foggy
“Where’s Matt?” Emily questions, arm still wrapped around his waist after a brief chorus of hellos are said. “I thought he was coming.”
“He’ll be here soon,” Foggy answers easily. He takes a flute of champagne that a waiter hands to him. “This is–”
“Oh, you must be his girlfriend,” she says with a large smile, interrupting Foggy and finally stepping away from him. Her eyes are absolutely lit up with warmth and excitement. “Matt said you’d be here with him.”
But Emily isn’t looking at you. She’s looking at Karen.
Your heart drops. 
Of course it’s Karen. It’s always Karen.
“Aren’t you just beautiful,” she gushes, grabbing Karen’s hands in what can only be described as pure joy. “That boy always sure knew how to pick them.”
“I’m not—”
“He says you’ve been together for over a year, right?” She continues, voice carrying over Karen’s immediate objection. Karen gives you a look that is extremely apologetic, cheeks turning red. “None of the other women he’s brought around have stuck. I’m so happy to know someone as sweet looking as you has decided to–”
“I’m not his girlfriend,” Karen finally manages to interrupt, looking deeply uncomfortable as she shifts on her feet. The woman frowns, but Karen removes her hands from hers and gestures towards you with a smile that is kind, but also increasingly awkward.
Emily stares at you for a second, mouth dropping infinitesimally, but she recovers quickly, a wide smile once again lighting up her face. Though she is subtle about it you don’t miss the way her eyes briefly glance up and down, as if sizing you up. 
“Oh. It’s so nice to meet you, dear,” she says, taking a step towards you. Her gaze upon you is kind, but more reserved and closed off than it had been with Karen. She seems to be yet another person who expects Matt to have someone as beautiful as Karen on his arm, and the thought causes your throat to go dry and your heart to drop. “You look lovely, too. That dress is stunning.”
You force a smile, and you hate the way it’s appeared on your face more and more these past few weeks. It was once a smile that was meant for the occasional awkward conversation, but lately it’s almost found a permanent home on your face.
“It’s nice to meet you, too,” you tell her, hugging her awkwardly when she pulls you in. Your body is full of tension, and your movements feel stiff. She pulls away, taking a step back. She eyes the group once more, the four of you in a semi-circle around her, before mentioning that she has some friends she needs to catch up with. Emily walks away, unaware of the turmoil that is brewing in you.
The air is sweltering around the four of you, and your hand is holding on to your clutch in a grip that would be bruising if it was someone's hand instead.
Karen abruptly turns to you, an hesitant smile on her face, “I–”
“Does anyone know where the bathroom is?” You cut her off, making a show of looking around you, trying to spot one. Your eyes land on one finally, and it’s like a lifeline that’s calling to you. “Oh, there it is. I’ll be back in a few.” Without another word, you turn on your heel and make your way towards the bathroom, shoes clacking loudly on the floor. 
You're in a stall before you know it, the bathroom shockingly but thankfully unoccupied. You lock the stall door with shaking hands, begging yourself not to cry as your face crumbles. The last thing you want is to go back out to your friends with red eyes and smeared mascara, so you bite your tongue until it bleeds.
You have to get out of here.
An idea springs up inside your head, and you yank your phone out of your purse, immediately pulling up your message chain with your younger sister. 
Text Sent 7:32pm: I need you to call me in fifteen minutes with an emergency.
You hold your breath, praying that your sister responds shortly. It’s always been a code when one of you needs an excuse to get out of something, and you’ve never relied on it the way you’re relying on it now.
Text Received 7:33pm: Is everything okay?
Sighing in relief that she’s answered so quickly, tears still pricking at your eyes, you type out a quick reply.
Text Sent 7:33pm: Not really, but I’ll explain later. Can you call me in a few?
Text Received 7:34pm: Absolutely.
You rejoin your friends with another fake smile, and make an effort to seem as put together as possible. Temporarily shoving your misery aside, you crack a few jokes, laugh at Foggy’s commentary of the people around him, and tap your champagne flute against Karen’s in a funny, random toast, ignoring the way she’s looking at you in concern. You make a show of wondering where Matt is, casually mentioning that he had said he would be arriving soon, craning your neck to glance around the room as if in search for him.
In reality, you’re hoping he’s nowhere near the event, so that you can slip out without a word.
You know you’re being borderline childish with how you’re reacting. It had been an easy mistake on Emily’s part, but it’s once again reinforcing the idea that Matt should be with someone who looks like Karen, at least by society’s standards.
A beautiful man with a beautiful woman. It doesn't matter that he's blind and can't possibly know what his partner looks like; there's still an unfortunate, unspoken rule that says beautiful people belong with other beautiful people.
You're cute, in your own way. But other people don't seem to think it's enough. And while you’d normally be the type of person to flip society the bird, you can only hear the same message so many times before it starts to sink in like a poison with no antidote.
True to her word, your sister calls at the fifteen minute mark, and you feel the way your phone is vibrating in your purse. You pull it out, sending a quick apologetic look to the trio as you take a small step to the side, and answer it.
“Hello?”
“Are you coming over to talk about whatever is going on?” Your sister says in greeting, her dry tone still managing to sound a bit concerned.
“Oh no, are you okay?” You ask in reply, placing a heavy frown on your face. The group is watching you closely, even while they make small talk amongst themselves.
“Did Matt do something?”
“I’m at an event right now,” you say, somehow managing to sound regretful, letting a wince slide across your face. Foggy looks at you, his brow furrowed, as if trying to figure out what's going on. When he wants to be, he's more perceptive than anyone ever gives him credit for. “Can I come by after?”
“Tell whoever’s there that I need stitches or something,” your sister suggests helpfully.
You sigh loudly, shifting your eyes upward in what you hope conveys a small amount of annoyance. “Okay, I’m coming.” You hang up shortly after, turning to the group with an unhappy look across your face. At least that part isn’t necessarily a lie. 
“Do you really have to leave?” Karen asks, and while she sounds sympathetic to whatever may have happened on the phone, there’s also a tiny spark of suspicion in her eyes. You ignore it.
“My sister sliced her hand open and probably needs stitches,” you say as an explanation, grimacing. “She asked me to meet her at the hospital. She’s awful with needles and is freaking out. I’m sorry, I’ve got to go.”
Marci gives you a sad smile, and it looks a little too knowing for your taste. She’s the one who knows you the least, and while she’s a part of the friend group by way of Foggy, you don’t know her nearly enough to be overly concerned about whether or not she believes the act.
Foggy and Karen, on the other hand, seem to be a little more cautious with the explanation you’ve given, and you know that if you stay with them much longer, they’ll see right through the agony that’s tearing its way through you, no matter how hard you’re trying to keep it at bay.
“Tell Matt that I’m sorry to have to leave so early,” you say to Foggy as you lean in to give him a hug. Karen hugs you, too, and you try not to flinch from the touch. 
Beautiful, lovely Karen. It’s not her fault, you know. But it doesn’t stop the sting.
“You could call him yourself,” Foggy suggests as you move to leave the group. You don’t answer, adrenaline and panic finally sliding through the cracks, and you can’t be there one second more. 
You’re crying on your sister’s couch in a set of pajamas she’s leant you forty-five minutes later, bottle of whiskey on the table in front of you, your cell phone once again on do not disturb with a growing collection of missed calls and voicemails.
******************
You stumble back into your apartment the next morning, still dressed in your sister’s pajamas, evening dress bunched over your arm. Your expensive heels hang almost pathetically from your fingers, a reminder of a failed night out, having been replaced by a pair of old flip flops.
“Hey,” a voice says, and you’re not necessarily surprised to see him standing in your kitchen, sipping on a cup of coffee. He looks tired, more tired than you’ve seen in a long time, and you wince, knowing a large part of it is due to you.
“Hey,” you whisper in reply. You set your shoes and dress on your kitchen table, rubbing your eyes tiredly. “What are you doing here?”
Matt’s eyebrows shoot up in slight surprise, mouth parting. “Am I…unwelcome here? Am I intruding?”
“No, of course not,” you say in a rush, disliking the way his beautiful face flashes with something that looks like hurt. “I just…wasn’t expecting you to be here.”
“You would have known if you bothered to answer my calls or listen to any of the several voicemails I left last night.”
You hang your head in shame and guilt. “You’re right, I’m sorry.”
“I had no idea what was going on,” he tells you, placing his coffee cup on the counter and taking a slow step forward. There's a look of concern on his face, though it's buried under a level of irritation and exasperation that seems to be slowly settling in. “You were just…gone.”
“I told Foggy and Karen that my sister–”
“You’re a horrible liar, sweetheart,” Matt says with a laugh that almost sounds bitter. “They knew something was up, and unfortunately I was still too far away to know something had happened to actually do anything.”
“Nothing hap–”
“Did you miss the part where I just said you are a horrible liar?”
Your jaw snaps shut. 
“Your sister finally called me back last night after you went to bed, or else I would have had no idea where you were,” Matt says, and he sounds extremely frustrated. “You can’t…you can’t just disappear on me like that.”
You know the way people have just up and left him in the past without a word, you know the way it has continued to leave scars on him, and it makes you feel incredibly guilty. But it doesn't stop the way you begin to also feel defensive, a direct result of the weeks of hurt still flowing through you. 
“I’m not a child, Matt,” you tell him in something that could almost be construed as a snap. “You don’t need to know my whereabouts all hours of the day.”
He looks like he’s been slapped and you wince, already regretting the words. “That’s not–you think that’s what this is? Me being clingy? Or–or me trying to control what you do?”
“No–”
“Foggy said you ran out of there last night looking like you were about to burst into tears and all I could do was call and call and call and pray that you were okay. You went to your sister’s place in Jersey because you knew I wouldn’t be able to track you the further away you got, right? That I would have no idea where you were unless someone told me?"
You flinch, you can't help it. “That wasn’t the only rea–”
“And all because a woman mistook Karen as my girlfriend instead of you?” He asks incredulously. “How childish is that?”
It’s your turn to feel like you’ve been slapped. Your cheeks flood in shame, embarrassment, pain. You’re not quite sure how to respond to it, because a part of you knows how childish it had been. But the insecurity is not based on one event, but a series of them, and the chorus of voices in your head that tells you you're not good enough for him has been growing steadily louder since that night at the bar.
Matt’s words have effectively stunned you into silence, and while you open your mouth several times to speak, nothing comes out. Your shoulders sag, and you all but curl into yourself, hugging your arms around your waist in an effort to appear as small as possible.
To take up as little space as possible. 
The way Matt is still tense tells you that he had been ready for you to fire something back at him, some sort of rebuttal that he’d easily tear down as he would in court, and when you don’t, he seems confused. His brow furrows as you all but wilt in front of him. 
You watch as a flicker of realization passes over his face, and you cringe. He's caught on, and you don't like it.
“It actually…it actually hurt you,” he says, and his voice is startlingly quiet, a sharp contrast to the way he had sounded so heated and frustrated just moments before. “Didn’t it?”
You give a noncommittal shrug, shoulders rising and falling ever so slightly, but otherwise don’t have any sort of reaction. 
Matt licks his lips, and your eyes can’t help but follow the motion even in your misery. “Why…why did that upset you so much?” You shrug your shoulders again, but he shakes his head, as if refusing your lack of a response. “No-no, don’t do that. You can’t have a reaction like that and expect me to just not say anything about it, to not want to know what’s wrong or what I can do to fix it. Talk to me, sweetheart.”
Your eyes are welling with tears before you can even try to stop them, and with a quiet whine, you cover your face in your hands. 
You hear Matt swear, and before you can even take your first shuddering breath, he is wrapped around you. Your head is tucked under his chin, a hand cradling the back of your skull to keep you pressed into him, the other wrapped around your back. You leave your hands covering your face, unwilling to tear down the barrier at the moment. You’re barely holding things in as it is, and the thought of exposing yourself to him completely right now is terrifying.
He’s whispering soothing words into your ear, the same things he always tells you when he knows you’re upset, and while the words take the edge off, they’re not a match for the misery that’s got you shredded by its claws.
Eventually he takes a step back, though his body is still pressed lightly against yours. With slow movements, he removes his arms from around you, and gently tries to pry your hands from your face. You struggle against him for a moment, tears still soaking your hands, but you give in, as you so often do, when it comes to the gentle force that is Matt Murdock.
He tilts your face up and places a soft kiss onto your forehead, palms cupping your face as he gently wipes the tears that have dripped down your cheeks. His eyes dance blindly across your face, and though he can’t see the way your sadness has literally poured from you, he can feel the way the heat of the tears have scalded you on their way down.
“Tell me what’s wrong, sweetheart,” he whispers against your skin, still cradling your face in his scarred, calloused hands. “What happened?”
You take a deep breath, one that sounds more like a gasp than anything, and keep your eyes squeezed shut. “Everyone always…everyone always assumes you’re with her.”
“With Karen?”
You nod, fingers twisting themselves into the t-shirt he’s wearing. 
“It’s happened more than once?”
“It happens all the time,” you tell him with something that sounds suspiciously like another sob. His frown deepens. “And maybe…maybe I just hear it more now because I've become so sensitive to it, but it’s happened quite a few times. And I know how stupid it is because I shouldn’t listen to what other people say, but it still just sucks to hear it over and over again.”
“What do people say?”
You try to twist out of his grasp, but he doesn’t let you. He presses another kiss to your forehead and asks the question again, softer this time. “They say…they say how beautiful you are together. How you’ll have beautiful children together. And when they–when they see that you’re with me instead, it’s almost like it’s offensive to them.”
Matt makes a mournful sound in the back of his throat, thumb catching a new wave of tears that trail down your cheeks at the admission. “None of that matters to me. You know that. You're the most beautiful person I've ever met, and I don't need to be able to see you to know that.”
“I know,” you whimper, and the sound makes you feel borderline pathetic. “But it matters to me.”
“Why, sweetheart?”
“Because it’s like everyone is saying I’m not good enough for you,” you say, still keeping your eyes closed as you expel the root of the insecurity. You feel like you're tearing yourself apart for him, the wounds every bit as real as the ones you spend night after night patching up on him. 
“She is beautiful and kind and all the wonderful things you can think about a person. And I love Karen, she is such a wonderful person, and I'm incredibly lucky to call her a friend." You open your eyes briefly, taking in the way Matt looks just as pained at the words spilling from your mouth. "But it’s hard when everyone is basically telling me that she’s the person you should be with. And it’s–it’s not like I haven’t thought the same thing before. But hearing it come from other people just makes it worse.”
“Why would you–”
“And then Foggy told me–”
“Foggy?”
“--that you and Karen used to date,” you continue, as if the words can’t be stopped now. “He told me that you were together briefly, and that maybe it would have continued had Elektra not come into the picture. He said he had half-expected you two to perhaps get back together, or to try again. And I couldn’t help but think that maybe that’s the way it’s supposed to be. That maybe I’m just some placeholder until–”
“Don’t you dare finish that sentence,” he says, and though he hasn’t raised his voice, the tone is stern and it finally manages to cut you off. You lower your head, but he lifts it back up. “Open your eyes.” With a deep breath, you do so, his face coming into view above yours. His mouth is parted in something that both resembles shock and slight frustration. “I am with you because I love you. Not because I can’t have Karen. Not because it didn’t work out with her. I am not with her because I don’t want her. I want you, only you.” 
“But–”
“We went on one date, and I knew pretty early on that even though it felt nice for a moment, it was never going to be something that was sustainable, or worth fighting for because she wasn’t right for me. There is nothing between us, and there hasn’t been in years, and there won’t ever be again, because I am with the person I want to be with,” he tells you fiercely, pressing his forehead into yours, thumb tracing your bottom lip. “I am yours in every single way. And whatever you need from me to help you believe that, say the word and it’s yours.”
His tone is once again quiet and gentle by the time he’s finished speaking, and the words are a balm that rushes through your skin, putting out and soothing the heat and anxiety that has been coursing through your veins since the night before. You take shuddering breath after shuddering breath, attempting to bring your heart rate back down to normal, and at last you succeed.
“Sweetheart?” he asks gently when you’re quiet for too long. He pulls his head back, head tilted down towards you in the way you’re so familiar with. “Tell me what you need from me.”
You shake your head, contemplating the right words. “I can’t think of anything that you don’t already do, Matt,” you admit softly. “You…you already know what I need before I even know how to articulate it.”
He's quiet for a moment before he opens his mouth. "Do we need to…keep a little distance from her for a bit?" He looks deeply unsettled by the idea, and it's equally disorienting to you, too.
"God, no," you say with a gasp, jerking back as far as his hold on you will let you. "None of this is on her, at all. And I don't want her to feel like she did anything, because she didn't."
Matt looks relieved. "I didn't think it would be something you'd go for, but I wanted to throw it on the table, in case you did need some space."
You shake your head. "No, I don't need anything like that. I promise. Foggy and Karen are my friends, too, you know," you tell him, mouth tilted ever slightly at the corner as you think about all the memories you've shared over the past year. "Sure, I met them through you, but I love them. You're a package deal, and I wouldn't have it any other way."
He tucks a stand of hair behind your ear. "They feel the same way about you."
You can't help the way your smile widens slightly. "Good…I'm glad."
Matt places another kiss on your forehead, pausing again before he speaks. “I like to think I'm good at reading you,” he says softly, eyes landing on your shoulder, the color almost green in the sunlight that's pouring in from your kitchen window. “And I like to think that not a lot gets by me. But this did. And it seems like it’s been there for a while.”
You shrug, as always trying to downplay the way you’re feeling, but per usual, Matt doesn’t let you get away with it. 
“It was a miss on my part,” he continues with a sigh. “I’m sorry I didn’t pick up on the fact that something was off.”
“Nothing about this is your fault, so please don’t apologize.” He opens his mouth to object, but you shush him with a soft finger on his lips. “I could have said something. I know how to use my words. I… purposefully avoided you when I was feeling like this because I knew you’d pull it out of me eventually. So that’s on me, I think.”
He looks contemplative for a second, before a small smile graces his face. You trace his mouth with the finger that’s already resting there, and he takes the opportunity to press a kiss to it. “I’ll make an effort to listen more for when something might be upsetting you, and you’ll make an effort to talk to me about it. Deal?”
Nodding, you mirror the small grin. “Deal.”
“And if I feel the need to pull you close and put my hands on you in public so that everyone knows you're mine, you'll be okay with that, right?"
You can't help but huff a laugh. "Matt–"
"Or if you prefer, you can do the same to me, whenever the need arises," he says innocently.
Your eyebrows raise. "Why do I feel like you're asking me to claim you in public?"
"It's a mutual claiming, sweetheart."
You roll your eyes fondly. "I guess when you put it that way, how can I say no?"
Matt smirks as he lowers his mouth towards yours, hand slipping into your hair so that you are angled perfectly beneath him. "Seal it with a kiss?”
“Absol–”
His lips are on yours before you’re done speaking the word.
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luveline · 1 year
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imagine being giddy while out with the BAU team getting tipsy and talking about your sex life. but the reader is secretly dating hotch, so she stays quite. until one of the girls starts hounding reader about how she said her current partner is the best sex she’s ever had. and hotch just tries to not be a cheeky little shit.
this is not quite what u meant but I hope it's OK! ♥︎ fem!reader
There's a girl across the way. Tall, gorgeous, making eyes at Derek Morgan like her life depends on it. 
"Morgan, come on," Emily says, "I thought you had game. This is just sad." 
Morgan nods agreeably, an action dripping in sarcasm, and downs the rest of his drink. "I got better than game," he says, patting Emily on the arm as he stands. 
"What's better than game?" she asks incredulously, twisting in her seat to follow Morgan's path with her eyes before turning back to you and the others, expression reflecting her disbelief. 
"I should've let him buy me that appletini he promised me," you say, dipping your head toward Hotch on your left, and Rossi on his. "I don't think he's coming back." 
"I'll get it," Hotch says. 
"Always on the boss to pick up the slack," Rossi drawls with a smirk.
Hotch nearly laughs. "Another round. The same for everyone?" 
"I wouldn't mind an appletini, boss," JJ jokes. 
"You know, he'll actually get you one now," Emily says, all of you turned to watch him making his way to the bar. 
Morgan and his gorgeous girl are hitting it off quite clearly halfway down the bar. JJ, who's a little tipsy already, beams at them and wiggles her shoulders. 
"I think somebody's getting lucky," she says. 
"I hate to say it, but I'm jealous of Morgan right now. Don't," Emily says, sliding down into her seat, "tell him I said that." 
"I thought you were steady with that guy," you say sympathetically, "the chiropractor." 
Emily moans out in sadness. "I was. Turns out guys don't like when you cancel four dates in a row. He... was really good at his job." 
Emily might be more intoxicated than you'd thought. You laugh too loudly and think maybe you are, too. 
Hotch approaches from the left with a tray of drinks in hand and you slide your chair out of his way, feeling his "Thank you," warm the back of your neck. 
"Laugh at my pain," Emily says at your giggling.
You shuffle forward to hear her better over the small hubbub of Hotch, Rossi and Reid sorting drinks into place. Penelope appears again from her excursion to the bathroom and slides right into Morgan's empty seat. 
"What about you and mystery man?" Emily asks.
You're less subtle than you should be, your eyes straying to the shadow of Hotch in your peripherals. "What about him?" 
"Is that still going well?"
"It's going more than well," JJ says knowingly, retrieving her appletini with a sweet thanks. "What did you tell me on the way back from Illinois?" 
"I told you that in confidence," you rush to say, to plead, eyes widening. "Tired confidence." 
"What did she say?" Emily asks, her smile turning evil. 
JJ laya back in her seat, almost tipping her drink, and covers her eyebrows with her index finger. Everyone knows immediately that she's imitating you, worse when she puts on a quiet awe. "I didn't know it could be like that. I mean, I didn't realise a man would care so much about making sure I feel good." She fans her face. "And he really cares, JJ." 
"Please don't," you say, covering your face with both hands. You're not truly upset, but it's embarrassing nonetheless. 
"It's sweet!" JJ cries. 
"What? You're having heart to hearts without me?" Penelope asks. 
"It wasn't a heart to heart, Pen, I was just tired, and–" 
"So you didn't mean it?" 
The entire table waits for your answer. You feel Hotch's silence louder than everybody else's, and you're so flustered you don't know what to do. You hadn't counted on letting him in on how happy you are in the bedroom, not this soon. 
"I meant it," you breathe, "but it's not something I wanted to share with everybody." 
"No? You won't want me to tell them about how big his hands are, then," JJ says. 
"JJ," Hotch says, and you can hear his awful smile, "let's not embarrass her too much."
Emily jumps to your defence, and soon the table has turned on JJ completely, jokes about one specific New Orleans accent taking centre stage. 
Hotch slides your appletini closer while they're distracted. "He cares, honey. More than you know." 
You take a shuddering breath. "I know," you say, voice small. 
"You do? So you won't need reminding?" 
"How about you, sir? Things still going well with that younger girl?" Penelope asks, all gossip. 
A big hand lands on your thigh. You still, the heat of his skin seeping down into yours as he inches inward. 
"I'd say things were going well," Hotch says. He punctuates with a secret squeeze. "She might say differently." 
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oncomingnight · 5 months
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Yandere! Rockstar x Fem Reader ౨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹
"My old man is a bad man."
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Andrew was the guitarist of an extremely notable band credited for pioneering a sub-genre of metal. He's in the top three of most talented people to ever grace a pair of guitar strings. His band's management is constantly being called to fly them out to perform at festivals, the number of attendees rising after the date of their performance being announced.
His left forearm is covered in a variety of tattoos whilst part of his right is blackened, he also has your name tattooed on the side of his neck and lower back.
He's known for always joking around and giggling about something, someone could say something that has sexual undertones and you'll see a toothy grin spread across his face before he opens his mouth to be inappropriate. Whenever he's around you, which is all the time, he has a permanent, Cheshire cat -like grin on his face. He truly cannot help it, you ignite such happiness within him and he never fails to let you know just how much you've changed his life for the better.
His obsession with you always manages to shine through, I mean, it's not like he's trying to hide it. Why would he even want to? You deserve to be knowledgeable of his soul shattering devotion towards you, he shows his fidelity in several different ways.
Andrew believes that absolutely nothing compares to the celestial sight of you. You're the most beautiful woman in the world in his eyes, he can't help but let you know exactly how he feels when it comes to you.
"Just look at yourself, baby, look at my pretty girl. Do you know what you do to me?"
Andrew, and he'd even say this himself, is extremely clingy when it comes to you. There are intense amounts of photos taken of the two of you where his arms are wrapped around your torso, he's kissing your cheek, holding your hand as he follows your lead. When the two of you are in bed, you don't have any personal space whatsoever, his head is always placed onto your chest, stomach or thighs. It's quite humorous as many are intimidated by him and his presence meanwhile you have a photo of him curling around you in his sleep like a kitten.
Nothing gets past him, especially when it's in regard to you. So don't even try to hide your feelings when it comes to a situation in your life, whether it's good or bad. You could be facing a hardship and yet still lie in his face about your state of mind, "I'm fine", you'd say. He doesn't want you to try to 'protect' him from your sadness, he doesn't want you to talk to anyone else about your problems except him. He knows exactly how to take care of you, love, adore, cherish and accommodate you, do you think anyone else would be able to do so in the same hopelessly devoted manner as him?
Not a chance.
Whenever the two of you are at a public outing or a casual setting with friends, he's constantly by your side. He doesn't trust other people around you as he's perfectly aware of the dangerous actions they're capable of. His arm is constantly draped around your waist, an unreasonably harsh glare being thrown towards anyone he thinks is getting 'too close'.
During interviews or in simple conversations with his friends, he'll always find a way to mention you. It doesn't matter how serious of a topic it is that they're conversing about, there'll be a long pause before he's heard saying, "You wanna know somethin'? Y/n-", that's the beginning of the long tangent he's about to go on.
When the band is going on tour, you don't miss him, because he doesn't give you a chance to do so. He has always brought you along with him and his band mates when it's time to go on another world tour. He's incredibly grateful to be able to wake up with you by his side in a hotel with an incredible view of whichever city you're currently in.
Andrew is incredible when it comes to holidays and special occasions, he goes out of his way to give you everything you've ever asked for. Andrew absolutely adores the comfortable, domestic atmosphere he feels with you when Christmas comes around. He loves baking sugar cookies, assembling gingerbread houses, wrapping the dozens of presents he'd purchased for you, decorating the interior & exterior of your shared home, it's all so special to him.
There are several videos on the internet with an abundance of views where he's defending you like a vicious dog. He's far from scared to confront another musician that's commented on you or the relationship the two of you share, he could care less if someone was shit talking his musical abilities, it's the subject of you that he cares so much for. There's been several times where he's broken someones bones for the way they spoke about you, this isn't something he'd ever apologize for. In his opinion, if you wouldn't kill for the person you claim to love, you don't truly care for them.
He went through a lot during his childhood and it's shown through his hesitance of being vulnerable with those around him, if someone begins crying in front of him, he'll feel incredibly uncomfortable. Though, he doesn't feel that way with you, he doesn't feel constricted or judged when he talked to you about certain things that were committed against him as a child. Andrew has cried in front of you an incredible amount of times for varying reasons, this doesn't scare you away, though, how could it? If anything, it bonds your hearts even tighter together. The moment he decided you were his, the light of his life, the one he could bare himself to, your future was sealed.
The nicknames he chooses to call you by vary from hopelessly romantic to outright silly. "Sweetheart", "baby", "honey", /"toots", "sweet cheeks".
If he notices your liking towards a specific, dessert, dish or drink, he'll immediately commit himself to learning how to make them at home for you.
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lorelune · 7 days
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(aventurine x reader /// continuation of this concept)
"explain to me," the good doctor demands, "why do you need my help?"
"because." you fumble around you're words. your lips feel cold. herta's space station, especially this deep in it's bowels, is an unpleasant place to have any conversation, let alone one that is also unpleasant. "i don't have time."
"and you assume i do?"
"partially?" you rub a hand over your cheek. "throw me a bone here, doctor."
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ratio has been sizing you up for the better part of half an hour, scrutinizing your intent in any way he can. you have been skillfully attempting to dodge most of those attempts, but veritas ratio is as diligent a man as he is intelligent. which is to say that he is not letting up until you divulge the truth.
you sigh.
"you will explain to me," he says outright, gaze piercing. "how one of the intelligentsia guild's most esteemed researchers needs help with an algorithm that is far below both of our skill levels. it's insulting to both myself, and yourself."
you sigh again, deeper and harder, "i, once again, do not have time. i have the 'full time job' of handling aventurine's odds, and those calculations don't run like any other odds i've ever worked with, and he is a variable constantly in motion. i need help making this algorithm so i can have some assistance with my main job at hand."
the doctor scoffs, and walks a circle around you, "i'm sure he's just thrilled with the company."
"we— he manages."
more than. but, veritas doesn't need to know that. you're sure he'll figure it out eventually.
veritas tagged the briefcase on a nearby table. it's gleaming, with a discreet ipc logo embossed on the side. the sight of it makes you nauseous with anxiety.
"is this bribe from him?" he asks.
"no." you've stopped aventurine anytime he has tried to intervene and make things easier for you. he rarely listens, but your relationship with ratio and the guild make him somewhat neutral territory. "higher up."
"i assume diamond wouldn't bother to dirty her hands. so, jade?"
"yes."
dr. ratio, for the first time, seriously considers your offer. then scowls. "it would be a waste of my time."
you sigh. there was a 67.22% chance of this outcome. luckily, you have gamed out the conversation from here.
"so you can't?"
"you know i can."
then, you laugh, and shake your head. "yes, i do. sorry to tease. i'm quite tired."
"you should go find your gambler." veritas crosses his arms, looking sidelong at the briefcase.
"i will, eventually." you turn your back to veritas as you begin to leave the open atrium. the air is hollow and frigid. "i'll just ask some other intelligentsia guild members about the project first. i'm sure they'd be happy to help."
you only take a few steps before dr. ratio grabs your arm. his grip is far too strong.
(chance of failure to secure dr. veritas ratio's assistance: decreased by 31%.)
"don't bother them."
"someone needs to help." you turn back to look at him, expression schooled. "and if you won't, i'm very sure someone else will be happy to work beside 'one of the intelligentsia guild's most esteemed researchers'. or, does such a title not truly apply considering i've been ousted from my previous position?"
he frowns, but before he can speak, you interrupt him. you haven't seen veritas since being tied down to your current post. you haven't let him have it. he deserves it, maybe.
"i heard from jade that i received a glowing recommendation from another well-respected scholar. apparently, the position was being considered for either one of us. somehow, with that recommendation, i drew the short end of the stick and now play handler for a man with a death wish and a statistically measurable chaos quotient that's ever-changing in multiples of three."
veritas's face is unmoving. unchanging. but you know you've struck something. it was to be him or you in this position. and you don't have the pride he does. you place your hand over top of his, posed to speak, to tear him apart—
a shrill ringtone shatters the tension. it's yours. you already know who it is.
you flip your phone open with one hand, still staring at ratio.
"hello," aventurine's voice beckons from the other side, smug and smooth. "where is my favorite, most brilliant mind hiding out? we're due to leave soon."
"sadly, with another one of your favorite, brilliant minds. i'll be finished up shortly and meet you at the docks."
"aw, did he not get onboard? that's quite the choice for him to be making. do you want me to give him a talking to you?"
"no, it's fine. i'm working something out."
"you sound upset."
"i'm tired." you rub at your eyes and break away from veritas with a yawn.
"you can nap on the ship. we have quite the journey."
"that we do. i'll see you in a bit?"
"see you there." you can hear the smirk in his voice.
sending you down to veritas alone was aventurine's gamble. one that is working out, predictably. never mind the damage your reputation will take after these next moments. you close the phone with a sigh and begin toward the grand elevator.
"veritas," you call his name. "i forgive you, for what it's worth. try not to do it again."
"i couldn't."
you laugh and shake your head as you ascend. by the time you arrive at the docks, the ipc's premier vessel is packed away and priming its engines. lights and sirens echo from it. aventurine's idles outside, waiting for you. he beams when he sees you.
"so," he whistles, guiding you with a hand on your lower back. you let him. "was the good doctor as prickly as ever?”
"if not more so" you admit. aventurine gestures with a sweeping hand to your shared quarters for the time being. there's a single bed, but you're used to this. you've come not to mind it. "i think i bruised his ego."
with a genuine laugh, “i don’t think that's possible."
"want to bet on that?" you ask.
your phone's text tone chimes and you shoot aventurine a sharp smile.
aventurine's odds are ridiculous. ever changing, constantly moving. none of your perceptions and calculations that are usually steadfast and unmoving can keep up with him. not with efficiency, anyways. it's exhausting work. however, the likelihoods of everything but aventurine? the predictions of a man like ratio?
easy. simple. you could do them in your sleep.
aventurine squishes against your side as you open your newest message.
[SENDER: Doctor Ratio <intelligentsia guild>]
> here is a first draft. forgo payment. i do not need to be in the stonehearts’ pocket.
[file attached: STONE ALGORITHM DRAFT 1.0.spqxxxiun.pqo]
aventurine laughs, muffling it against the side of your neck. his teeth are sharp and his breath is warm. it settles something in you. you lean into him and deflate, sliding down into your lap so your head is pillows there. a gloved hand cards through your hair.
"you're quite good at the game, when you choose to play." aventurine reminds you. he tells you this often.
"i know." you turn your face into his hand as the ship rumbles. "but it's your job."
aventurine pauses his pets, then thumbs over your lips. he looks sour, only for a moment, before resuming his motions, a bit rougher this time. you relish the feel of it, sinking into it.
"one of us has to, right?"
"right."
"and the other," he taps your lips. your sputter, indignant. "plays support."
"one of us has to." you remind him.
it's silent between the two of you as the ship whirs and bellows, taking off from herta's space station without reverie. onto your next destination, wherever aventurine is deigned to be needed, with you by his side, dutifully.
you press your face into his stomach, letting the smell of linen and his cologne envelope you.
neither of you have a choice to play this game. the cards are stacked, and you best not loose count from aventurine's side. you'll be damned if you do.
(there is a 98.769% chance that you are damned regardless.)
at least, at least, you have each other, you think as aventurine bundles you up closer, and you wrap yourself around him. you'll take that, for as long as it lasts.
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strangerstilinski · 7 months
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𝙩𝙖𝙠𝙚 𝙘𝙖𝙧𝙚
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𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
summary; steve takes care of his sick gf
warnings; no use of y/n, (steve refers to reader as ‘girl’ but no mentions of specific anatomy i don't think), multiple descriptions of vomiting, steve being stupidly sweet, casual/non-sexual nudity, sickfic, fluff
word count; ~4k
a/n; i wrote 99% of this while i was sick and exhausted myself, so i'm not insanely happy with it??? but, uh.. fuck it? right? also this is my first time posting something on here that isn't DOB so pls, pls be nice — i beg you.
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You had thought it would get better.
You'd thought that sleep would be enough to get rid of the overpowering warmth that had begun to prickle uncomfortably under your skin, the congestion that left your head feeling like it was just a little bit too big, too heavy, for your body. The better part of the last twelve hours have been spent curled up in bed, hoping to sleep it off.
You're not entirely sure what illness is to blame for your current state, but you're cursing each and every possible one as you stumble into the bathroom and fall to your knees in front of the toilet. An immediate ache from the collision against the floor goes ignored, as does the cold that bites at your shins through the glossy tiles.
Now, as your body rolls and tenses with heaves and coughs that have you spilling the remains of your dinner from the night before into clean porcelain, you can't quite believe that you'd dared to be so naively optimistic.
Time passes in that horrible way it always does when you feel poorly, too slow at times and a total blur at others. Your head has been pillowed on your arm at the edge of the toilet for one of those blurred stretches, time fuzzy while you catch your breath. You hear the loud trill of the phone ringing out from down the hallway and your head shoots up at the sudden noise. You intend on hobbling out of the bathroom to answer it, but the too-quick motion of your head snapping to attention has your stomach turning all over again.
The ringing continues as you upend the final contents of your stomach, and the grating noise of the telephone finally dies off only to pick back up again just as your puking turns into nothing more than dry-heaves, body still protesting despite there being nothing left inside of you to give.
When the roiling of your stomach settles slightly, it takes all of your strength to pull yourself to your feet, flushing the toilet and grabbing the bottle of perfumed bathroom spray to mask the lingering smell that's doing absolutely nothing to ease your nausea.
You fumble for a moment as you locate your thermometer, placing the end of the small glass tube under your tongue as you lean onto your elbows over the sink, head dropping weakly as you wait. When you pull the device from your lips a few minutes later, the little red line reads somewhere around a hundred, and you drop it to the back of the counter with a huff.
Your weight continues rest heavily on the edges of the sink as you flick on the tap and proceed to take a few long sips straight from the stream of cold water, rushing to take in grateful gulps. It clears some of the bitterness from your tongue, washing away the rancid taste of bile and stomach acid while settling cooly in your feverish body.
You push back up, weight resting on your palms until you can regard your unusually pallor complexion in the mirror. Your eyes are bleary, a little wet still with tears from your battle with your own body a few minutes before. The sight of just how truly unwell you look has your stomach turning all over again, the cold water in your stomach suddenly feeling as if it's moving in heavy, churning waves inside of you, as if it's fighting to break free.
You barely make it back to the toilet before you're retching and dumping back out all of the water that you'd forced into your body perhaps a bit too quickly.
You're so exhausted by the time your stomach settles once more, you don't manage more than flushing the toilet and misting the air with another quick spritz of freshener before you've slumped against the wall and begun to doze.
When your boyfriend eventually comes knocking at your front door, the sound isn't enough to rouse you, not even when the noise grows a little more frantic from anxiety, palms slamming against the surface paired with muffled shouts of concern through the thick wood.
You remain entirely unaware as an increasingly worried Steve Harrington begins searching for your spare key with muffled curses. He nearly upends the potted plant you have outside your door, kicking your doormat across the hallway in his haste to unlock your door and shove his way into your apartment. Steve stumbles through several rooms before he finds you in the bathroom and his steps falter at the sight that awaits him.
You look so pathetic it's startling; curled in on yourself in a way that makes you appear smaller, weak and innocent, younger even. Your head is tipped against the wall, lolled to the side until your nose and chin are nearly touching your shoulder. He knows it has to be wreaking havoc on the muscles in your neck, and he nearly winces at the thought, pushing further into the room and squatting down in front of you. Steve's hand finds your cheek, supporting some of the weight of your head to straighten your spine just a touch as he assesses the sickly pallor your skin has taken.
“Oh, honey.” Steve says softly, thumb stroking from your jaw to the apple of your cheek and back down again.
The soft touch is enough to finally wake you and he watches your eyes blink heavily, feverish confusion pulling your brows together as you struggle to focus on the face in front of you. You pout at him and the sight of your lip jutting out is so cute that Steve fails to notice your arm rising weakly from where it was blocked by the toilet. Not until it's too late.
A honeysuckle scented mist sprays in his direction, forcing him to flinch back in surprise as the perfume invades his nostrils.
“Jesus!” Steve exclaims in surprise, hacking slightly at the taste of it on his tongue, “Baby, what the hell?”
Your nose scrunches up as both your arm and the spray bottle fall heavily into your lap. You blink at him slow, “Smells like vom in here.” You explain meekly.
“It smells fine.” He tries to reassure you, pulling the de-odorizer from your weak grip and setting it on the countertop behind himself and effectively out of your reach.
“Wha're you doing 'ere?” You question in a rasp, shaky hand grabbing ahold of his wrist as if trying to prove to yourself that he's real and not some fever-induced hallucination.
“You weren't pickin' up my calls,” He tells you softly, thumb beginning to move across the heated skin of your cheek again, “I knew you were plannin' on staying in to get some cleaning done. When you didn't answer my mind kinda ran wild. Thought you might've slipped and fallen and cracked your head off the kitchen counter or somethin'. I dunno, I just.. I got worried, sweetheart. Came to check in for my own peace of mind,” His gaze trails the length of your body, taking in your wrinkled tshirt, your bare feet, your clammy skin, the puffiness around your eyes, “I'm glad I did.”
“‘'m sorry I didn't pick up the phone,” You apologize quietly, your gaze drifting to the toilet for a moment before slowly meeting his again, “Was busy puking my guts out.”
The way your lip pulls up at the corner from your own dry humor has Steve cracking a smile, his voice fond when it sounds again.
“I see that,” He says with a sigh, “How long you been sick?”
You try to shrug but your shoulders barely move, your body too weak to manage more than a small twitch of your muscles, “Started feeling shitty last night before bed. Slept a lot. Got sick when I woke up this afternoon.” As if suddenly realizing the lack of brightness coming in through the bathroom window, your raspy voice comes again, “Time s'it?”
“Five-ish,” Steve tells you with a frown, pretty brown eyes flicking over your face, “You haven't eaten anything?”
You give him a small shake of your head, his large hand supporting most of the weight of your skull as you do so, “M'sick.”
He sighs, “You still gotta eat, honey. Have to get something in your stomach if you're gonna get your strength back.”
You shake your head again, sad eyes meeting his, “I'll just throw it up. Don't want to get sick again.”
Steve smiles at you pityingly, a sad thing, “We'll try something real small to start, how's that?”
“How small?” You ask nervously.
“Some soup?”
You shake your head.
“Just broth and some crackers?” He bargains.
Your stomach rolls at the mere thought and it must show on your face because he sighs heavily.
“Dry toast?” He tries.
Your eyebrows pull together, but the thought doesn't immediately make you queasy, so you give him an indecisive shrug.
“Let’s try some toast, yeah, honey?” Steve says softly.
His fingers gently brush your hair back from your face and your mind whirls in realization.
“Oh god,” You bemoan weakly, “'s there puke in my hair?”
“No,” He says a little to quickly, “No, baby, there's nothing in your hair.”
You give him a look to say that you don't believe him for a single second, but he's looking at you so fondly that your expression melts away into something soft almost immediately.
“You want me to tie your hair back?” Steve asks, already turning around to peek at the bathroom countertop where there's a mess of hair ties and clips littering the surface.
“The big one.” You tell him, nodding vaguely in the direction of your favorite scrunchie.
He turns back around with the puffy material pinched between his fingers, already combing your hair back and collecting it in a bundle with gentle hands. The sensation of air meeting the clammy nape of your neck feels so good that you let out a small noise of relief, leaning forward to give him more room while he tries to smooth out the lumps in your hair with his fingers.
Once he's managed a messy ponytail, his wide palms rest on the sides of your neck, thumbs ghosting along your jawline as he frowns at the feverish sweat on your brow.
“You taken your temperature at all?” He questions in concern, his fingers meeting your forehead and somehow managing to feel blessedly cool against your overheated skin, “You feel like you're burnin' up, sweetheart.”
“Hundred or so.” You tell him, eyes falling shut as you lean into the feeling of his hand against your sweaty skin.
Steve hums, an unhappy sound, “That's not too bad. Not good by any means, but it's nothin' to be too worried about, huh?” He sounds like he's trying to reassure himself more than you, so you merely nod against his hand. He sighs after a moment, “Right. C'mon. Up we go.” He urges softly, arm curling around your back with one hand gripping at your hip as he pulls you to your feet.
You're not sure how he manages it so effortlessly, the only hint of his strain is the soft grunt he lets out when you collapse against his chest and knock a little bit of the wind from him. You bury your nose into the dip of his clavicle, the strip of skin and scarce chest hair poking out from beneath the collar of his stretched shirt is soft to the touch and masculine smelling and overall a little dizzying — although, the way you sway against him has you wondering if maybe that's just the fever.
“Toast.” Steve reminds you softly, hand slipping beneath your baggy sleep shirt — one that had been his shirt, once upon a time — to run his thumb over the soft, overheated skin at your hip.
You grumble something that's not quite disapproval or approval, a weak sounding thing to protest the thought of moving from your current position, but with an endeared sigh and a soft press of his lips to your sweaty temple, Steve's manhandling you into a better position. Your feet end up over the tops of his, your arms curled up underneath his own to grip weakly onto the backs of his shoulders. He holds you steady with one hand at the center of your spine and the other spread over your backside in likely the least sexual touch he's ever graced to that area of your body.
You manage a weak murmur about him copping a feel and he laughs. It falls over your ear in a breathy little chuckle as Steve carefully waddles the two of you down the hall. His arms continue to hold you tight to his chest while walks you back around the corner leading into your small kitchen, flicking the overhead light on as he goes.
“Hows'it you're mouthy even when you're on your deathbed?” He asks, a small grin on his face as he gently gets you settled up onto one of the kitchen stools where you can rest while he makes you food.
You collapse onto your elbows against the countertop as soon as he releases you, cheek resting heavy in your palm as you peer up at him.
“Dunno..” You tell him quietly, eyes flicking over Steve's face slow in a way that you didn't quite manage in the dim light of the bathroom.
His hair looks a little fluffier than normal, soft and messy in a way that makes you want to run your hands through it, tug soft on the strand that dips down over his forehead and curls toward his eye in that effortlessly beautiful kind of way. Caramel swirls prettily with the darker shades of brown and gold in his eyes, pink lips pulled into a barely-there grin when he turns back toward you after grabbing a half eaten loaf of bread from the cupboard.
You're watching him with a dazed sort of admiration, “How s'it you look so pretty even when I'm on my deathbed?” You counter dreamily, arms crossing against the cool countertop so that you can rest your temple over the tops of them when your head suddenly starts to feel a little too heavy, vision swaying.
Steve laughs softly as he gets two slices of bread into the toaster, “I'm not sure there's a correlation between my good-looks and your health,” The sound of his amusement fades out when he looks back at you and finds your new position, “Oh, Honey..” He says simply, the words pitying.
“'m dizzy.” You tell him with closed eyes. The darkness behind your eyelids doing nothing to slow the spinning in your brain.
“Well I'm sure that not eating all day is at least partially to blame for that,” Steve says softly, “Your body can't fight the virus if you don't give it any fuel.”
You pout petulantly, knowing he's probably right, “You're annoying when you're smart.”
The swirling blackness behind your closed eyes slows, your breathing following suit as you relax against the counter.
“C'mon, sit up, sweetheart.”
The sound of his voice startles you and the quiet clink of a ceramic plate being set down on the counter beside your head has you deducing that you might have fallen asleep for a few moments. You make a small noise of surprise as your gaze moves to the food on the plate, plain dry toast. Steve has sliced it into cute, neat little triangles for you and your heart melts a little at the gesture.
Hands on your arms guide you gently into an upright position as Steve crowds up against your side, letting you rest your weight into the wall of his chest when your head swims a little from the movement. You grab a slice of lightly toasted bread from the plate in front of you and bring it to your lips, nibbling slow at the corner with your eyes closed, trying to focus on the way you rise and fall with Steve's breaths where you're resting against him — the expansion of his lungs beneath his ribs rocking you in a slow, steady movement while you attempt to force down comically tiny bites.
Steve drags his palm along the length of your spine, drawing a smooth path up and down as you eat.
“Doin' good, babe,” He praises softly, his free hand falling to rest lightly on your stomach where he begins to trace tiny circles over your shirt, “You don't have to eat it all. Just need to get a little something in your stomach.”
You hum around your sliver of toast, crumbs raining down on both of your chests and clinging to the fabric of your shirts as you chew. It takes a stupidly long time, but you manage to finish a single triangle of bread, and Steve continues with his soothing touches all the while.
He feels you grip the hem of his shirt in your fist, your sweaty face turning into his chest with an unintelligible murmur, and he brings his hand on your back up to rest between your shoulder blades.
“You done for now?” Steve asks gently, fingers rubbing softly into the tense muscles beneath your neck as you nod, “Probably haven't had anything to drink either, huh?”
You shake your head and a frown pulls at your lips when he takes a small step away from you, “Wha'-?”
“Gonna grab you a glass of water, alright? Then we can take a bath. Get you all clean and relaxed.”
He's already stepping away before you can protest, though the phantom sensation of the water that had re-emerged from your mouth an hour or so earlier has you frowning anxiously.
Unaware of your silent distress, Steve grabs a glass and turns on the tap, the loud rush of the water hitting the sink basin filling the room while he sticks his hand under the flow. He stands like that for a few moments, fiddling with the temperature a couple of times before he fills the cup. He returns to you only moments later, settling the glass into your palms with more gentleness than you think you've ever experienced.
As both of your trembling hands lift the water to your lips, you take a small sip, frowning and lowering the glass only a moment later.
“It's warm.” You complain weakly, face scrunching up in disgust as you meet his eyes.
Steve nods and his hand urges your own to bring the glass back to your lips, “Cold water will shock your stomach,” He tells you softly, “Gotta be warm if you don't wanna get sick. My strong girl just ate half a piece of toast, you don't want to immediately throw it back up, do ya?”
“No.” You murmur around the lip of the glass, taking another careful sip.
“No,” Steve agrees, wide palm coming up to brush a few loose wisps of hair back from your forehead, “Doing good, honey, real good. Just a few more sips and we'll get you in the bath.”
You frown at the reminder, clutching your cup to your chest with both hands, “Oh god,” You whisper in horror, “I smell.. I smell really bad, don't I?”
“You don't smell,” Steve promises with a soft smile, though it's not entirely convincing, “A bath'll help your head, though. You said you were dizzy, yeah?”
“Yeah,” You agree quietly, “Feels, like, swollen. Like my head's gonna explode.. But also 's spinny.”
“The steam will help,” He promises, “And you'll feel better when you're fresh and clean, y'know?”
You sigh around another sip of the warm water, a reluctant nod against the hand resting over your forehead. He urges you to drink a little more before he's dragging you back toward your bathroom.
You're forced to sit on the closed lid of the toilet, watching with tired eyes as Steve flits in and out of the room — adjusting the flow of the water in the bathtub and digging through your basket of bath salts and filling a bowl from the sink tap for reasons you can't imagine but don't bother to question aloud.
Instead, you wait. The loud rush of water filling the tub lulls you into a sort of trance until your eyes are slipping shut, head swaying heavily on your shoulders. The steam filling the room smells nice, lavender salts and oils having been added to the bath at some point, and the smell has you beginning to relax.
“Not fallin' asleep on me already, are you?”
You blink slow, heavy eyelids fluttering as you open your eyes to find Steve standing in front of you, already stripped down to his boxers. He steps between your legs to pull your shirt up over your head and you're down to only your underwear with just that one quick move. When he pulls you up, gentle hands cupping your elbows in case you sway on your feet, you lean into his bare chest with a contented sigh.
“This is nice.” You murmur, rubbing your cheek against the soft hairs littering his chest.
“This isn't even the relaxing part, honey,” Steve chuckles softly, his hands falling to your hips to rid you of your final article of clothing, “Come on. In you go.”
He helps you step over the lip of the tub, one hand in yours and the other on your waist to steady you. The water is hot and silky against your skin, a gasp on your lips when it first licks at your calves. It sends blissful shivers down your spine as you settle down into it, your eyes falling shut with a contented groan as you curl your arms around your knees and bow your head to rest over them.
You're only alone for a moment before Steve is settling in behind you, his long legs caging you in as they stretch the length of the tub. The water flowing from the tap cuts off and the room is thrust into startling silence, the thundering sound of the bathtub filling being replaced with the quiet sloshing of the water as Steve adjusts himself beside you.
You gasp in surprise when a warm stream of water falls over your shoulder and you crack your eyes open to watch as Steve cups his hands again, bringing the water to the back of your neck and releasing it in a warm rush down your spine. You hum in approval and he repeats the action a few times, dropping handfuls of water over your back as the steam works to lessen the pressure in your head.
A few minutes pass before Steve's maneuvering you around with big hands at your ribs, your thighs splaying wide over either side of his knees as he settles back against the end of the tub. Water sloshes around you with all the movement, licking high on your skin until you rest chest to chest, your face tucking into the damp curve of his neck.
“You alright like this?” Steve checks, his voice unbearably soft as the words fan out over cheek, “You comfortable?”
You hum happily, eyes closed, “So comfy, Stevie.”
He brings a big, bath-warmed palm up to rest on your shoulder, wet fingers trailing along your skin and leaving tiny oil-sheened drops of water behind that bead down the length of your arm and back as they fall.
Just as your mind starts to slip into that space between wakefulness and sleep, a startlingly cold cloth is pressed to your forehead. The chill has you reeling back slightly, a betrayed sort of frown on your face as you peer at your boyfriend who's holding a damp washcloth in his hand.
“To help bring down your fever,” Steve supplies in response to your silent question, “Sorry. I should've warned you.”
You settle back against his chest with a small huff, hand curling around his wrist as a way of telling him it was okay to try again. The cold doesn't shock you nearly as much the second time around, taking only a moment to warm into a comfortable coolness against your skin.
A deep breath fills your lungs with the sweet smell of lavender combined with the lingering musk of Steve's cologne. Your fingers trail over damp skin until you can settle your palm against his pec, blunt nails tracing slow patterns on his skin through the short damp hairs.
“Thank you,” You whisper over his chest, your breath causing his nipple to pebble up against the steam-thickened air, “So good to me, Steve. 'm so glad I have you.”
The wet cloth against your forehead disappears only to return a moment later, cool again from having been dipped back into the bowl of cold water Steve had placed beside the tub. Your breath stutters a bit at the chill, body tensing and relaxing back against him only a second later.
“How many times have you been the one taking care of me, huh?” Steve asks, fingers dragging up and down along the skin at the outside of your thigh in a soothing touch, “And I'd say you're in much better condition now than I was at least a few of those times.”
“'s different,” You argue quietly, “You were hurt. You're always getting hurt.”
“And you're always there to take care of me,” Steve agrees, “So I'm gonna take care of you. 'cause we got each other's backs, don't we, honey?”
His voice is smooth like silk to your ears, his big hand still trailing softly along your skin. His fingers find their way to your shoulder, the gentle drag of his knuckles skating along your jaw, the apple of your cheek, the length your brow bone, tiny streaks of moisture left behind in his wake.
“Yeah,” You murmur against his skin, tipping your head to place a small kiss to the corner of your boyfriend's jaw, “We do.”
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navybrat817 · 1 year
Text
In His Hands
Pairing: Woodworker!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: Bucky's new project is his favorite one yet for a very special reason. Word Count: Over 2k Warnings: Fluff, implied sexual content, pregnancy, slight feels (it's me), minor flashback, canon divergent, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?). Graphics talent and thanks: Banner by @sgt-seabass. Divider by @firefly-graphics Bucky edit by Nix. Moodboard by yours truly. A/N: My first Connect 4 (C4007 - Square 2) / Into an Alternate Juneiverse for @buckybarnesevents! Set in Into the Woods AU and time jump from Valentine's Day Tradition, but can be read as a standalone.❤️ Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby, but any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
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The buzz of the table saw echoed in the barn as Bucky carefully cut through the maple board, inspecting it to make sure it was even. He put a lot of thought and care into each project and design he created. Everything from cost to maintenance to longevity. His current project was especially close to his heart.
My favorite one yet.
After the fight, coming to grips with his trauma, everything, the city felt different. Bucky longed to have a simpler life. He unexpectedly found a bit of peace in the form of woodwork. Using his hands to build things, and not damage them, kept him busy and happy. But the thing that brought everything full circle was you.
His wife.
"Doll, I still can't believe you said yes."
"Who would say no to you, Jamie?"
He glanced at a photo of the two of you on the wall, still in disbelief that he got to wake up beside you every morning. He found it more and more difficult to get out of bed when he wanted to stay tangled up with you, but the bills wouldn't pay themselves and he had to work to get a paycheck. Lucky for him, his "office" was in the nearby barn. The yard was a decent size, too.
"Great place for a family one day, isn't it?"
"Just about perfect, doll."
Like Steve, he hadn't expected to love living a quiet life outside of the city, but he did. You made a beautiful home together and it wasn't that far of a drive if he wanted to visit. He wondered some days if he was living in a dream because things seemed too good to be true.
If so, he never wanted to wake up.
"Need you to be perfect," he said to himself as he cut another board.
He checked the design again, his eyes narrowed as he thought about how long it would take to finish. You gave him your seal of approval when he showed his idea and reminded him not to put too much pressure on himself. He had plenty of time to make it and other projects came first.
But he hadn't had a task as important as this one.
He removed his safety glasses when the sun shone through the window, giving the place a soothing glow and him a moment to pause and reflect. He made love to you that morning. There was no pain in his left shoulder. Steve planned to stop by this evening. It was just about a perfect day.
How is this my life?
"You know, I think that is going to be your best work yet."
Bucky turned his attention to where you stood in the doorway. He couldn't keep the smile off his face when he noticed you had one of his shirts on. You looked good in his clothes, always had. And seeing you enter a room still took his breath away. He didn't think he could love you more, but he did each day.
If I ever stop breathing from the sight of you, at least your face will be the last thing I see.
His gaze went to your stomach before he closed the distance between the two of you and placed his large hand on it. He hadn't built a crib, but he did his research to be sure he'd make the best and safest one possible. It would be something to hopefully pass on to future generations. Another tradition.
But first and foremost, it would belong to the baby.
Our baby.
"I'm just getting started, but I think you're right," Bucky said, sinking to his knees and kissing your belly. "Only the best for our little jellybean."
Most days he couldn't keep his hands off of you, but it got worse once he found out you were pregnant with his child. You were glowing, more than usual, and he was a moth drawn to the flame. Thankfully you didn't mind and let him indulge.
Your need matched his own.
He'd never forget the joy he felt when you told him you were pregnant. You often brought him snacks or lunch while he worked, but that day you brought him a small gift box, too. It wasn't his birthday or a special occasion, so he had no idea what it could possibly be. Inside were two positive pregnancy tests. He almost dropped them, too stunned to speak. His heart almost burst through his chest when he saw the happy tears in your eyes.
"We're having a baby, Bucky. You're going to be a dad!"
It took a minute to sink in. You were having his baby. He was going to be a dad. You were giving him a family. A life he had only dreamt of.
'I still have to see a doctor, but-"
His mouth came down on yours before you could finish what you had to say, his massive hands framing your face so he could deepen the kiss. He poured his love, passion, soul, everything into it. He took you right there on one of his empty work tables, his left hand on your stomach the entire time.
"I love you, doll. Love you both so much."
He brought you back to the house and made love to you all over again, taking his time to worship you. He didn't get any work done the rest of the day. It was worth it.
"How are you feeling?" he asked, concern filling his eyes when you yawned.
He always checked on you during his breaks to make sure you felt okay, even when you insisted that he didn't need to. Days like this when you visited the barn first, he still had to ask. Any discomfort or pains, he wanted to know and help however he could.
"Just fine," you assured him, tucking a few strands of hair that came loose from his ponytail behind his ear. Just like he couldn't stop touching you, you always found an excuse to run your fingers through his long, brown locks since he grew it back out. "A bit tired, but fine."
"You're not wearing your mama out, are you?" he asked your belly. He pressed his ear against it and felt a slight kick, as if he got an answer. "Good because she needs rest. She has enough to deal with taking care of me."
"We take care of each other," you said.
Bucky wanted to believe that. You had a good set-up in the city before the two of you decided to move and he worried you'd regret going with him. You reminded him that you were still going to work from home and it was a choice you made together.
Partners. Equals. Soulmates.
"Yes, we do," he said fondly, focusing on your stomach again. "But can you believe she had the nerve to ask if we should buy you a crib? Like she forgot I could make you one. Don't hold it against her, jellybean. Hormones and baby brain."
"Bucky!" you scolded before you laughed.
He chuckled as he kissed your stomach a second time. "I'm kidding. Kind of. I did have to drive all over town the other day to find the potato chips she wanted."
Bucky would drive to the ends of the earth to satisfy any craving you had.
"Hey. Our baby is the one asking for them and it was the only flavor that would provide any satisfaction," you defended yourself. "And I balanced it out with fruit, so everyone wins."
"Yes we do and I'm glad. I need you both nice and healthy," he said as he stood up.
"We're both fine. You know that," you smiled.
He hadn't missed a single appointment, wanting to be there every step of the way. Listening to his baby's heartbeat was like hearing his favorite song again for the first time. He actually waved at the screen when you had your sonogram. And he swore the baby waved back.
Bucky also bought a few books on babies and parenthood. While he knew some life lessons couldn't be learned from a book, he wanted to be prepared. You supported him in that and baby proofing the house in advance.
Your only request was that you didn't want to know what you were having, which he agreed to.
It would be a beautiful surprise for both of you.
"Need you both safe, too," he added.
"We are safe," you said, glancing around. "Our home is safe. You don't need to worry."
Bucky tried not to. Your home was secure and he kept a clean and safe shop in the barn, but he didn't want to take a risk by having you too close to any of the tools or get irritated by the dust. The only table he let you touch was the empty one where he made love to you. Maybe that was why it was still empty.
"I guess you're right," he said, brushing his lips against your forehead. "You know if we have a girl, I'm never letting her out of my sight."
"Oh, I know," you giggled, putting your hand on his wide chest. Feeling the wedding band through his shirt was one of his favorite things. "And if we have a boy, you'll teach him to be a gentleman. Though I imagine he'll probably be just like you."
"Hey, I am a gentleman, ma'am," he smiled.
"Mmm. You keep telling yourself that," you teased.
Bucky hoped they took after you. Kind, but fierce. Loving and fair. Whether he had a daddy's girl or a mini version of himself, he just wanted to have a special place in their heart.
"And you really don't mind that I'm making the crib, do you?"
"Of course, I don't," you said, frowning. He immediately kissed your lips to make it disappear. "Why?"
"Just making sure," he said, rubbing your belly. The source of comfort from such a small gesture amazed him. "I think I just feel better knowing our baby is truly in my hands."
It was silly, but Bucky thought if he made the crib that it would be like he was holding your child as he or she slept. That no matter what, they would be safe and cared for. Surrounded by familiarity and warmth.
Your baby deserved that and more.
"I think that's a beautiful thing," you assured him, placing a hand over his. "You work so hard for us and I know our baby will one day appreciate that you built them something with your heart and hands."
His hands, like the rest of him, were massive and strong. A man his size was meant to destroy, which he did in battle and worse. He also proved that he was meant to create. His size never intimidated you. In fact, you once said that one of many things that made him special was how deceptively gentle he could be.
That the only ruin he would bring you with his touch would make you whole again.
In my hands, you'll always be loved.
"I'll always work hard for my family," he promised.
He hadn't told you yet, but he planned to build a rocking chair for the nursery, too. He wanted it to be a surprise. He could already picture the two of you sitting in it with a soft blanket to keep you warm.
The image made his heart swell.
"And if I have my way, we'll have one more. Jellybean could use a companion."
"Now you sound just like Steve. Both of you wanting to keep your best girls knocked up," you smiled, sliding your hands up his muscular arms to his shoulders. "You think you'll convince me?"
"I don't think. I know," he smirked, kissing you before you could argue.
As excited as Bucky was for the next part in your journey together, he was also afraid. He knew he'd be a good father, but not a perfect one. He'd make mistakes and stumble along the way. He wouldn't always have the answer. What he did know was that he was going to give his child unconditional love and care.
Starting with the crib built with his heart and hands.
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Bucky is going to be an amazing dad, right? And how about Steve? Love and thanks for reading! 💙
Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
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heartfullofleeches · 8 months
Text
Oblivious healer entity reader that finds joy and endless happiness every day living in a town that's basically hell on earth for its human residents
-
To live in this place is to know true suffering. Life is meaningless, flesh is expendable. Few bother to make friends with their neighbors or check in relatives as tomorrow is never a guarantee. Creatures from the unknown, unexplainable disappearances, those who lost themselves and craved the same violence thrust unto them, false prophets. Those who attempted to flee often faced the worse kinds of punishment. There was truly no end to their torment.
Dazed and on the verge of collapsing, a new arrival in town found itself roaming the near empty shelves of a convenience store in ruin. Glass stabbed at its outer layer flesh, reflecting the strange clawing sensation in the lower regions of its stomach. It would later learn these feelings to be the pains of hunger, one it was not as fond of as others. The newcomer had learned so much in such a short time residing in this new town and body. It wanted to learn more - like what would happen if it stuffed those odd, brightly colored shapes into the singular hole it called a mouth. They were sweet, they were sour, they were savory- flavors and descriptions foreign til taught by those who cared for it later on.
The newcomer comes across the owner of the store laying motionless behind the counter. The syrup surrounding them is not as sweet as what it sampled from bottles in the cold storage spaces. Poking at the owner garners no response. It's then that the newcomer realizes their faults. It hadn't offered currency before eating like it'd seen others do. It didn't have those papers or coins or even those rectangular bits of plastic. It deciding the next best thing to give as payment was to fix that large hole in their face. None of the humans it came across before had one of those, so it must need fixing.
The store owner finally responded to its questions once it had repaired the hole. If the newcomer had anyway to describe the process it was like playing with clay. The store owner only answered in screams of terror until the newcomer was able to calm them enough to tell them how they had fixed them - and eaten the rest of their stock. They weren't upset by that second thought as the newcomer had thought, and even gave them a supply of their favorite treat before calling the police.
The newcomer wondered if it helped more people it would get more treats or be invited to come back anytime as the store owner had generously offered. It was having so much fun in this new form. Its powered had been limited, but the feel of warm sunlight on their skin was worth the loss. It couldn't understand why everyone around it was so unhappy when they get to wake up everyday and welcome the morning sun. It wants to fix people, it wants them to be happy. Many reject them for fear of the unknown, but those who accept cling onto them like a lifeline. Without the newcomer around they are plunged in darkness as it has become the source of light for them it speaks so highly of. The newcomer is oblivious to their devotion as it reads books about the new world and takes light of its tragedies as it takes glee I'm all its pleasures.
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Yan: Let me get this straight - you just repaired my kidneys and all you want is a hamburger?
Entity Reader: .... Two?
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Yan: There is no point in waking anymore. When I'm asleep i hear the crying of my dead mother. When I'm waking she's standing over my bed. I can't think, I can't breathe. Make it stop, make it stop- There is no reason to keep existing- I should just let my cannibal neighbor eat me
Entity Reader: ...They gave me eleven nuggets instead of ten. I am very happy right now. Want the extra? :D
Yan: ..I have never been more mentally stable than I am in this current moment, if you leave me I will die.
-
[Entity Reader walks in on a friend about to be sawed in half by a masked maniac. The two share a glance before Reader throws their arms up]
Entity Reader: Frankie!! :D
[The machine rips the saw out of their victim's abdomen and rushes reader - hugging them and spinning them around as the victim fights to keep their intensities in their body]
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hazashiovo · 21 days
Note
Hii I saw ur taking request Soo I wanted to know if you can do One-shot for riddle rosehearts he is ma fav if that is not a problem!
Ofc I can, popular opinion,but he reminds me of Ciel Phantomhive lol.
Genre: Fluff,imagine,just full of love tbh.
Treating a sick Riddle Rosehearts
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It was hard to imagine that your dear boyfriend who always acted tough and in control was now in his bed,face flushed red and sweaty.
A thermometer hanging from his dry lips.
You told him many times,not to overwork himself. To take a break from time to time.
But Riddle was just so stubborn that he would only do what he wanted.
It drove you crazy. But who's now at your hand? Who's wiping his soaked forehead and neck? You.
His worried girlfriend barely resisting the urge to scold him for not listening to her.
"Here,I made you soup." One sympathetic smile on your lips.
The boy coughs a little, raising his upper body just enough for him to be able to eat the dish you made specially just for him.
Riddle pouts as you slick back his wet red hair, the soup filled spoon leaving a pleasant taste in his mouth.
"Thank you,rose." The boy's voice raspy manages to speak, his nick name for you rolling off his tongue effortlessly.
Riddle's face lights up,just now realizing how good the taste of this soup really is.
You giggle quietly at his adorable face,placing a quick kiss on his hot forehead.
"Eat up so I can give you your meds, alright Hun?" He nods,even if the taste of them is horrible, he knows it's necessary to take his medicine in order to get better.
"You know,if you would've listened to me this wouldn't have happened." Of course the urge to say something about the carelessness this boy had for himself finally was fulfilled.
If his head wouldn't feel like blowing off, Riddle would've rolled his eyes. But unfortunately he has to keep it in until he gets better.
Just on cue, the red haired boy sneezes,making you joint back startled.
"Tch." He raises his hand to his nose, wiping away with a tissue his runny ,red nose.
To be honest, Riddle's current appearance reminds you of a bunny. From cute red watery eyes to the way his lips were in a straight line, almost a pout. Even his hands were gripping the blanket so tightly, yeah,a bunny.
If he knew how you were visualizing him right now in your mind... Off with your head. Joking! If he was in his right health you'd most likely get your cheeks pinched and a scowl on his pretty face. Hehe.
After successfully eating the whole bowl of home made soup,you feed the sickly boy the prescribed medication. Riddle's face contorts Into a disgusted expression,his tongue dramatically spilling out like he just had the most disgusting thing for dinner.
You chuckle and pat his leg one last time. His expression now turning to his tired one.
"I'm gonna go now,you should rest." You smile, "To make sure you get back on your feet fast." Even if Riddle can't see you properly,the light making him squint his eyes, he knows your smiling.
That smile that warms his heart when it appears on your carefully sculpted face.
He blinks slowly a few times,a new surge of tiredness washing over him.
Yeah,he should rest. "Thank you my rose."
You hear the boy mumble before drifting off to a most likely uncomfortable sleep. The fever surely must lower,but you doubt this will be like his usual sleep.
His words make your smile grow bigger,happy that Riddle is accepting to be seen vulnerable by you and that he allows you to take care of him.
If he truly didn't want you to be here in times like this,he simply wouldn't allow you to enter his room.
But especially when he's like this are the times that he truly needs you to be around him. So be sure that the dorm leader would never forget the kindness and compassion you showed him,not only as your boyfriend,but as truly a person.
After spending a few seconds watching his sleeping frame,you leave. Reminding yourself that you have other business to do,even if your anxiety will probably eat you up and you'd be unable to focus properly,but it's ok. It's your boyfriend's health after all.
Once the door is closed ,you feel it. Tickling your nose,your face making that expecting expression.
"Hapciu!" A loud sneeze echoes through the hall outside of Riddle's room. Your eyes whiden and a shiver runs down your spine as you wipe a tear from the corner of your eye.
"Shit."
.
.
Ahhh💕
Riddle's so cute ❤️
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hearts-4-luke · 2 months
Text
setting the scene
luke hughes x fem!reader
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summary: just as everything is going wrong, and you feel like the universe has something against you, you meet a certain someone who changes your point of view
warnings: harrassment, a little bit of cursing, shitty writing
word count: 2.3k
i hope you enjoy this, my first piece of writing.
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of course you were familiar with the idea of karma.
in theory, you always thought it was a great way of thinking. if you put good into the world, you'd get something back. 
so you always tried your hardest to make other people happy, give them the benefit of the doubt, not only in hopes that you'd be rewarded, but also because you truly wanted the best for others.
but over time, you lost faith in the idea, as it seemed that no matter how well you treated other people, how much good you put out into the world, nothing ever came back to you, at least not for long. 
the night had started out great, you'd already downed a few drinks, and you and your friends were having the time of your lives dancing to "today's top hits." 
but of course with your luck, something had to go wrong.
some girl who'd obviously had more drinks than she could handle, decided it would be a good idea to walk through the dance floor with multiple full glasses in hand. it goes without saying that she ended up spilling the contents of her cups, straight down your dress, the cold liquid freezing against your hot skin.
only when you went to wash the stain out did you remember that you were wearing a tight white dress, which, in your current situation, was practically see through.
logic told you it would've been a good idea for you to leave at that point, but instead, you opted that you didn't want to ruin your friend's nights, so you decided to stay for just a bit longer.
eventually, your dress dried, and the stain was just barely visible, for which you were extremely grateful. 
spotting the nearly empty glasses in all of your friends' hands, you decided to be nice and go grab another round of drinks. this was your second mistake.
the intoxicated people dancing all around you made you uncomfortable, and by the time you had told the bartender what you wanted, you were jittery and uneasy. within seconds, a man who had to be at least ten years older than you took a seat on the stool closest to you, despite the fact that nearly all of the others were vacant.
you shot him a polite smile before opening up your phone and scrolling through instagram, but you were all too aware of the fact that his gaze was burning a hole through the side of your head. 
again, logic pleaded with you to just leave right then and there, you knew your friends would understand, but being the people-pleaser you were, you still persisted on staying and waiting for your drinks. 
"you here all alone, eh?" his words had your heart beating hard in your chest. 
damn you, universe, you thought. why couldn't you just let me have one good night?
"no, i'm here with my friends," you replied nervously before adding quickly, "and my boyfriend." it was obvious you were lying, but you were grasping for straws just to get him to stop talking to you.
"it's alright, no need to lie to me." though his words themselves weren't especially threatening, the look on his face and the way he spoke made you on edge. he continued to stare at you, awaiting a response. he placed a hand on your thigh.
you'd had enough, so you slipped off your chair and began to walk away, when you felt a hand on your wrist. 
"what's wrong, baby? i didn't even do anything," he asked, an irritated look on his face.
you tried again to take your hand out of his clutches, but to no avail. you told him to let go, to stop, but he didn't care, simply tightening his grasp on your arm and insisting that you stay and "wait for your drinks."
praying to whatever higher being that the bartender would come back soon and see the unfortunate situation you were in, you looked around desperately, only to find that no one was paying attention to what was going on. 
what did i do to you to deserve this? you bargained with the universe, who left your question seemingly unanswered, silence left in its wake.
a second later, you jolted at the feeling of large hands grabbing onto your shoulders from behind you, and felt someone's head rest atop yours. you turned around in fear, and found yourself eyeing a boy who had to be around your age with curly hair and green eyes, peering right back down at you. 
you expected him to leave once he saw your face and realized he didn't know who you were, but instead he continued to look at you, smiling sincerely.  the man from before immediately dropped your wrist.
"hey angel," the boy beamed down at you. 
"hi…babe?" you responded hesitantly, leaning into him once you realized this was no mistake, the curly haired boy was helping you out. 
his arms found their way around your shoulders, hugging you from behind.
"is this guy bothering you or something?" he asked, picking up your bruising wrist delicately, and turning his attention to the older guy who seemed feeble compared to your saviour.
"no, no bro, i didn't do anything. i swear, i'm sorry," the man stumbled over his words, his demanding and harsh demenaor having faded away in a heartbeat.
"y'sure you're okay then?" he asked, redirecting his attention to you. you nodded in response, giving him a small, reassuring smile. 
"alright, i'll walk you back to the table, then," he nodded to himself before turning back to the man one last time, "and stop hitting on girls half your age, man. it's fucked up."
he led you away, hands intertwined, as the man scrambled out of his seat and away to another part of the bar. neither of you said anything for a few seconds until you interrupted the silence.
"thank you so much. i don't know how to repay you, that guy was really…" you trailed off, a shiver passing through your body just at the thought of his disgusting hands on your wrist.
he nodded in agreement. "of course, i couldn't just leave you there like that."
"can i get you something to drink, a beer, anything, to thank you," you pleaded, looking up at him as the two of you stopped walking, opting to stand near the bar in an area that wasn't too crowded. you saw the hesitant look on your face and continued your thought, "oh, unless you have a girlfriend or something, sorry, god, i should've asked before i said anything."
the boy grinned at your flushed face, "well, first off, my name's luke, and no, i don't have a girlfriend."
"oh ok, that's good," you said before realizing what you had said, "i meant to say that's good to know, not that it's good that you don't have a girlfriend. fuck, i didn't-"
"it's okay, i got what you meant," he chuckled. you put your face in your hands out of embarrassment, your face now bright red. once you had calmed down, you introduced yourself to luke, and offered once again to buy him something to drink.
luke knew he should be keeping this to himself, but you seemed like you wouldn't judge him or at the very least he felt like you wouldn't tell anyone else, so the next words that came out of his mouth were, "i'm only twenty. i can't drink. the bouncer knew my brother and he let me in, but my brother doesn't want me drinking." 
now it was his turn to be embarrassed, as he suddenly felt out of place, as though you were silently making fun of him, even though he knew you weren't. 
"oh, that's fine! i only just recently turned twenty-one anyway, so i get it," you shrugged, obviously trying to comfort him since his neck and the tips of his ears were pink.
all of a sudden, a guy with fluffy brown hair and blue eyes who was a few inches shorter than luke and seemed a bit tipsy came up to the two of you and slung an arm around luke's shoulders. the unfamiliar boy turned to you, having just noticed you were there, and a grin spread across his face.
"hey lukey boy, who's this, huh? you got yourself a girlfriend?" the boy chirped at the curly haired boy who rolled his eyes at his antics.
"angel, this is jack, my older brother. in case you couldn't tell, he's a little bit drunk," luke deadpanned, peeling his brother's arm off of his shoulders.
smiling at jack, you told him your name and explained how you and luke had just met a few minutes ago.
"oh, rusty's already got a nickname for you," he beamed, turning to look at his younger brother, who yet again rolled his eyes but the smile on his face showed that he wasn't really all that annoyed.
"anyway, lukey, d'you wanna come introduce your new girl to the team?" jack questioned, already beginning to walk back in the direction he came. 
"she's not my girl, rowdy." 
"and with that attitude she never will be!" 
you let out a laugh and luke turned to you, asking if you wanted to go meet his team. you nodded in agreement, and sent a text to your friends apologizing that you didn't get the drinks yet and that you met a nice guy but you'd be back sometime soon, and if anything, that you could uber home.
luke grabbed your hand, intertwining it with his, and began to pull you in the direction that his brother had gone. before you reached your destinanton, he explained that he and his brother played hockey and he was at the bar with some of his teammates and friends. 
quickly, you approached a circular booth filled with five guys and a girl, all of whom began to shout things, most of them teasing luke about "finally bagging a girl." 
you slid into the booth, and you could swear you felt a spark when luke sat down next to you, your thighs touching.
from across the table, jack recited the names of everyone at the table: jesper, nico, dawson, and john, and followed up by introducing you to the table.
the girl who you had ended up sitting next to interrupted jack before he could continue his drunken rambling.
"well i, for one, am glad that there's gonna be another girl around here. and rusty seemed lonely anyway." for a second, you felt jealousy flicker in your chest, thinking she was a friend of luke's, before she continued her thought, turning so that she could speak to you directly.
"i'm emily, by the way, i'm jack's girlfriend, it's nice to meet you."
"nice to meet you too," you grinned, all feelings of jealousy dissipating. you got to know her for a bit as luke started talking with dawson. 
eventually, you and luke fell back into conversation together, and your personalities seemed to just click. everytime you said something, he would have a quick remark to add, and whenever he spoke, you found yourself hanging onto every last word he said, sincerely interested in what he was talking about. 
luke wasn't sure why, but for some reason, whether it was just that your presence was so comforting, or that he was in desperate need for some new friends in jersey, but he felt an overwhelming desire to spill all of his secrets to you. 
you learned that he played for the new jersey devils in the nhl, and although hockey had never really been something you were interested, you made a mental note to look up when the next game was so that you could try to catch some of it on tv. 
as odd as it may have sounded, it made luke happy that you didn't know who he was before he introduced himself. it assured him that you had a genuine interest in him, and didn't care that he played in the nhl, or that he and his brothers were some of the most famous hockey players of his generation.
by the end of the night, it felt like the two of you had known each other for ages, the disturbing man from earlier long forgotten.
as the two of you exchanged numbers, you were glad you didn't go home earlier, that you had gone against logic's advice. 
you bid the rest of the team goodbye, not being able to escape the comments from jack, announcing how cute he thought the two of you looked together. 
you and luke were forced to part, both of you sporting matching smiles on your faces, and promised to text each other and meet up sometime the following week.
you found yourself unable to wipe the grin off of your face as you walked back to where your friends were still sitting, who all giggled at the sight of you all love-drunk and unusually cheerful. while you recounted your story about how you met luke, all your friends could see that you were practically glowing and seemed happier than ever. 
they all took a quick liking to the boy who had made you this happy, even without meeting him.
maybe the universe wasn't plotting against you. maybe everything that had happened was planned out, setting the scene for you to be able to meet the wonderful, bright-eyed, curly haired boy that you had. you just hoped it lasted.
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i feel like i wrote this really bad, but i just want to publish it and stop staring blankly at my writing, but if you read all the way to the end, hopefully you liked it!
part 2 coming soon, maybe? 💛🌼☀
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xvxni · 2 months
Text
Making Her Mine
Summary: Rebekah compels Elena to reveal her feelings for you and now your trust is betrayed. Rebekah seizes this opportunity to warm up to you as she has always found you attractive. Hanging out with her escalates to a make-out session as you relish your newfound feelings for her...
Smut, angst, a lil' bit of fluff
Elena cheating on the reader, Elena slander
3K
A/N: This is the first time I've published smut. I hope it's fine (I know it's horrible) otherwise just forget this happened... do let me know if you liked it. Happy reading!
Rebekah Mikaelson X Fem!Reader
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Rebekah was dragging Stefan by the arm to the high school library and you trailed behind them, compelled to do as the Original said.
Elena, your girlfriend of two years, gasps and stands up at your arrival. "Stefan, Y/N..."
You shot her a confused look, not understanding why was she so shocked.
Rebekah shot at the brunette. "Did I say you could move?" Elena shot her an exasperated look as she slowly sat down and you moved to sit near her.
She circled you people and spoke loudly in her accented voice. "Class is in session. You know the rules. Answer my questions honestly. No disobedience, no one leaves. April, my sweet, take notes. That's how you get answers in this town."
Her gaze lingered on you, which made you feel nervous and fidgety. Sure, you didn't show it, but she was a thousand-year-old vampire who could kill you in the blink of an eye, who was currently eyeing you like a predator would do to its prey. "In the year 1114, my brother learned, thanks to yours truly, about a brother of vampire hunters with tattoos that grew with each kill. These tattoos revealed what, Elena?"
"A map" your girlfriend answered, looking down. "Which led to... Caroline?"
"A cure for vampirism."
"Perfect. So we're all caught up. Stefan Salvatore, the last time we saw each other, you had a vampire hunter. But in order to decode the map, you need the location of the hunter’s sword, which you got out of me by using some very dirty tricks. Assuming you found the sword, you also found the cure… and you’re all still vampires. Something went wrong."
She looked at April. "What are you doing?"
"Oh, you asked me to take notes."
Rebekah sighed. "Oh, I wasn't being literal, darling. But now that you mention it, a flow chart would be nice. Which means index cards and push pins. Go fetch." The teen left.
At that very moment, the blonde Original appeared oh-so-tempting to you. The way she exercised control over all of you made you feel hot all over. It has happened quite a few times before. But you were with Elena and you had no tolerance for cheaters. There was just something about Rebekah that has always piqued your interest, but then again, loyalty was the most important thing for you. No one else but Elena had a place in your heart all this time.
Stefan grew irritated and straightened up. "You're wasting your time. We don't know anything."
"So you just gave up? I thought you'd do anything to save Elena. Y/N?"
Suddenly, all eyes in the room stared at you. The tension was so thick, you though a chainsaw was needed to cut through it. You sensed something bad and grew antsy under their collective gazes. "Why are you all staring?"
No answer. "Guys...?"
Rebekah spoke again. "I'm missing something. What is it?"
No one spoke. "I asked you what happened. You have to tell me."
Finally, the younger Salvatore brother spoke. "Elena slept with Damon."
You whipped your head around to look at the mentioned brunette. Hot, white rage was all you felt thrumming in your veins. You were known for your calm demeanor and excellent control over anger, but it was getting really difficult not to claw the doppelganger's eyes out. "What is the meaning of this?!"
The doe-eyed Gilbert just looked down and spoke nothing. She knew how much your relationship meant to you. She knew that once your trust is betrayed, it's over. She knew that loyalty was the most important thing in the entire world to you. And yet she chose to disrespect you. It made you feel so pathetic. Another victim of the Petrova charm putty in the doppelganger's paws. What a bitch. Your eyes burned with hot tears, threatening to fall down. Your throat choked and tightened, making it impossible for you to say another word. No. You thought. You wouldn't shed your tears for a cheater. Tears are so precious; blood flows from the body, tears flow from the soul. Never in your entire life you had felt so insulted and betrayed. I am going to ruin them, you thought. No, I mustn't waste a moment of my life on these worthless assholes. You decided the latter was a better option. No one was as crafty and cruel as you when it came to revenge. You would be consumed by the fire of vengeance. God, you thought you sounded like you were going on a bloodbath. But that's the dark beauty of you...
You subtly took a deep breath and leaned back, your face a stone-cold mask in which even the most observant couldn't find a crack. You felt Rebekah's searing gaze in your bones. And in some way, it made you feel safe. And damn you when you didn't know why...
"So vampire Elena is a trollop who likes bad boys, but it doesn’t explain why sweet, loving, innocent Elena could be so heartless towards Y/N. How could she hurt her like that? Answer, please." The Original said, looking at Stefan.
He sighed as he spoke. "She didn't know it at the time, but she was sired to Damon."
Rebekah smirked. "A sire bond? That’s fascinating. And what do you think about that, Elena?"
Elena spat at her, "I think you’re sad. And bored. And in desperate need of a hobby."
It angered but didn't deter the blonde. She compelled the Gilbert. "You're hiding something. Fess up."
"I didn’t sleep with Damon because I’m sired. I slept with him because I’m in love with him," she spoke in such a way as if she were proud of what she'd done. That was the last straw.
"Fuck you." You spat with so much hatred and venom, that no more words were needed to convey the message: we're over. Then you spun on your heel and stormed out, carrying a kaleidoscope of emotions and the weight of Rebekah's lingering gaze.
You didn't know it at the moment, but you and Elena breaking up might just be the best thing that has happened to the Mikaelson...
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It was nearly midnight, and you were at your house alone. You ate an entire tub of vanilla ice-cream, and now you were feeling guilty about it. You could have downed that bottle of Jack and Daniel hidden in your closet, but you decided you were not going to surrender to Damon's coping mechanisms.
Your room looked like a lowkey brothel, complete with silk sheets, roses, scented candles, and dim lighting. Hell, you were dressed in flimsy lace pyjamas, finding them extremely comfortable. But in your taste, it was a much-deserved self-care session.
Flipping through the pages of an erotic novel for the past hour, you got bored. It was so smutty, all the protagonists seemed to do was have sex. You grew irritated, your sex life was in shambles.
Suddenly, the bell rang. At this odd hour, you thought it would be Caroline stopping by with some ridiculously expensive cosmetics for a girl's night in, a not-so-subtle attempt of hers to comfort you. You might've hated Caroline at the moment for keeping Elena's secret, but you guessed you could live with it.
Every pore of your being protested when you rose, wrapped your robe around yourself and climbed down the stairs to open the door. The last person you were expecting to show up on your door was Rebekah Mikaelson.
Your heart skipped a beat. She looked so hot. Like get on your knees right now hot in those tight jeans and spaghetti top. For the first time ever, you could admire her classic, almost divine, beauty without any inhibitions or restrictions. For the first time, you really seemed to take her in. And gods, she was a sight for sore eyes. And damn you for wanting to bite that red lip and tear off her clothes.
You snapped out of it when she smirked. The look in her eyes made you weak in the knees. You knew that she knew of the effect she had over you.
You cleared your throat. "Rebekah, was an entirely unexpected surprise. How can I help you?"
She smiled. "Well, for starters, you could invite me inside..."
You knew it was dangerous. But you were so desperately praying for something to happen. You didn't care about the consequences. You wanted her so bad, you felt it in your bones, the desire running deep in your veins.
"Alright, would you like to come in?"
She looked surprised for a moment that you gave in so easily. But then she smiled wide and said, "I would love to." Then she stepped inside. Your heart hammered crazily in anticipation.
"Where shall I keep these?" She asked, holding up her arms. Then you noticed that she had a couple of bags looped in her arms. "I brought wine and something to munch."
You softened. "Oh, you didn't need to..."
"Oh, of course I do." She smiled softly.
You helped her with the bags to the kitchen. "Rebekah, this is a lot..." you began but she waved you off. You couldn't believe that an Original vampire was in your house in the middle of the night, who brought very costly wine and snacks to last an entire month. The blonde standing in front of you was the supposed nemesis of your friends, but what happened today was your defense.
"But why?"
"Well, that doppelganger bitch hurt you, and I was the one who meddled and you found out like this. So I guess I owed you one."
"No, no! I owe you one. I probably wouldn't have known for a longer period of time and that would've been so pathetic."
"Still... well, I hate her and you do too. So I thought that it's not such a bad idea to bond over our mutual loathing for her and maybe plot our revenge?" She said with that cute little smirk, making me laugh.
"Do you want to watch a movie?"
"Nothing cheesy."
"You think so? Elena ought to be the cheesiest girlfriend ever."
She rolled her eyes. "Thought so,".
"Come on,"
You guided her upstairs to your bedroom, and you were really, really nervous. Your heart was beating so loudly that you knew all too well that she could hear it.
Rebekah was in a frenzy of lust and excitement. She'd dreamt of this a little too many times and now it was real. You were the loveliest creature she'd ever encountered and she thought that you were really strong, funny and protective. And she really seemed to enjoy the not-so-decent outfit you were clad in.
The blonde glanced around your room and smirked in an almost-appreciative way. You felt a bit embarrassed about your clothes and your room, but hey, we all have those moments.
You put on a thriller on your laptop as you both sat comfortably on your post bed, with a huge bowl of chips to snack on.
About an hour must have passed in comfortable silence, and your dirty thoughts were put to rest for a while too as you focused on the complex plot of the movie. Then your patience was about to be tested.
An intimate scene was displayed on the screen and you froze. You became antsy as your thighs came in contact with Rebekah's hand. The tension in the room could be cut through with a knife. Your unbridled lust and roaring desire for her was consuming you and you couldn't control yourself as you turned to face her.
She was thinking the same thing as you and your lips collided. Your tongues fought for dominance as you explored every corner of her mouth, her doing the same.
It was a passionate, rough, and all-consuming kiss that had you moaning in her mouth and both of you had your eyes closed in bliss. She cupped your face while your hands tangled themselves in her golden locks.
It was so exhilarating, and you had just kissed... you were almost scared to know where the night would lead you.
Your lungs burned for oxygen but kissing her seemed the best way to die. Finally, you parted, gasping for air.
"That was..." you began, panting.
"Amazing," she finished, holding your eyes. You leaned in for another kiss, but she beat you to it. You kissed her senseless and your hands seemed to have a mind of their own as you began undressing her. Kissing her was your new favourite thing to do.
Her lips moulded perfectly into yours. The purpose of your life was to be hers, and at that very moment, everything was forgotten. She followed your actions and undid the flimsy lace and pushed you down, making you lie down.
The two of you were completely bare as your eyes met. You could drown and die in the blue ocean of her eyes. It was like being reborn. Her eyes held a challenge, promised an adventure and you reveled in the anticipation, the thrill and in her amorousness.
She raked her eyes all over your body and your every pore, every limb shook in bliss and ecstasy. "Damn, you're gorgeous..."
You smiled in satisfaction at her words and pulled her down to mesh your lips together.
Her lips slowly moved down to your neck, kissing and biting, leaving a trail of love bites all over. Lewd, wet sounds filled your ears as you flushed. She was a heady mixture. Slowly, very slowly, she moved down to the little dent at the base of your neck, then placed ticklish, feather-light kisses on your prominent collarbone. She kissed and licked through the valley of your breasts, down to your navel and your sensitive lower stomach.
She placed kisses along your waistline, making you gasp and moan into the silk-covered pillows. Your toes curled in pleasure when you felt her hot breath fanning over your womanhood. She had barely begun and you were already dripping wet.
The blonde moved down to kiss your inner thighs. So close but not giving you what you want.
"Rebekah, please..." you pleaded with her. Her eyes were a mixture of lust and amusement. "Please what?"
"Touch me!"
"Where?" She was such a tease. You grew frustrated and you grabbed her hand and guided it between your parted thighs. A loud, throaty gasp escaped your mouth as her fingers worked their magic upon your wet, slippery folds. You almost tore the sheets your fingers were gripping and you buried your face into the pillows to muffle your moans. But you decided against it. You wanted her to hear you. You wanted her to know just how good she was making you feel. Your body was so responsive to her touches .
Just then, her fingers hit that spot and you cried out in pure pleasure. You felt the pleasure building up and the sounds leaving your mouth resonated in every nook and corner of your house.
"Do you want me to stop?" she questioned innocently, but you knew all too well. "Shut up," you barely managed to say between your uncontrollable moans.
You wanted to tell her that you were going to reach your release, but the pleasure was too much and all you could think about was how good she was.
You started shaking and almost screaming as you reached your precipice. You quite literally saw stars as you came. Rebekah's gaze upon you was that of pure worship as she licked her fingers which were coated with your arousal. Then she leaned in to kiss you deeply and you could taste yourself on her lips. "You're so pretty..." she whispered, almost as if in a daze. You smiled and grabbed her my the arms, helping her lie down.
"My turn now," you spoke, aspiring to make her feel as good as she made you feel. You pulled her in for another searing kiss as you parted her thighs. Moving down, you maintained eye contact as you stuck out your tongue and tasted her. You'd never heard anything sexier than the gasp that left her lips when you did.
Soon, your tongue circled and lapped over her folds. Her throaty moans were music to your ears. You pulled back just when she was about to reach her high, deciding to use your fingers. Her sweet moans might as well would've been heard by the neighbours as you pleasured her all night long and to the breaking of dawn.
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You both lay bare barring the sheet covering you as you watched the sun rise. To you, it felt surreal and as if it were a dream.
"I've wanted this for so long," Rebekah softly confessed. "When I met you first, I thought you were really pretty, like a royal. Your wit and wordplay is unmatched. I love how strong you are, how you don't need anyone to fight for yourself and how you're so ambitious. But you were with Elena and-" you silenced her with a kiss.
"You've no idea for how long I've wanted this too. But I'm afraid that with the arrival of the dawn, I'd wake up and all of this would be nothing but a dream." You spoke softly.
"Trust me, your screams last night were very real,"
You laughed as you kissed her. She pulled you into her arms for another round. And sure enough, the hickeys covering you were very real...
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marilynthornhilllover · 3 months
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can you please make a fanfic we’re Larissa dies like in the show then wife reader makes and attends the funeral, but when she gets home she realizes that the front door to her and Larissa’s home was unlocked so she goes in slowly but she sees Larissa at the kitchen table drinking wine and Larissa says something like “miss me darling” and then some smut if you want. ❤️💋
Filthy love
Larissa weems x Fem reader
Warning: Angst, grief, sadness, slight anger, pain, lots of talk about depression, faking of death, smut, fingering, cunniligus, usage of toys such as : vibrator and strap, slight choking, kinda soft sex, praise kink, stalker kink if you squint, slight mommy kink, slight degradation kink.
A/n: I just want to say a HUGE THANK YOU to all of you who got me to 1,005 followers!! I'm so so so grateful and happy. I'm looking forward to continue writing fanfics for you all, thank you for interacting with my work and blog and simply liking my content and i am blessed to have each and everyone of you on board with me, sending love to you all also I hope you enjoy this 1k following special fanfic 👀💖.
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There wasn't enough words in the English dictionary to describe the pain and emptiness that you were feeling as you stood over larissa's closed casket. There were no more tears left to cry. All you felt was emptiness, a never ending suffocating cycle of pure sadness, filled with rage. They say death has no sting and that it sneaks up on you and it's absolutely true. Nothing compares to what you felt currently.
You couldn't feel anything, you couldn't hear anything. It's like being trapped in the middle of the ocean with no air yet your still not exactly drowning, you don't want to drown but you refuse to be rescued out of the toxicity of the air.
You felt utterly numb. It's as if you too weren't alive, like a part of you died with her, and is to stay forever buried with her. Soon you'll have to thrown the first batch of sand on her grave, plant flowers two months later, listen to people express their condolences and state how larissa was a ' sunshine in a word filled with gloom'. Correct - absolutely correct. She was your sunshine in your world of gloom.
Truth be told you didn't deserve larissa - Or maybe larissa didn't deserve you. You'd always argue, she'd always stay at work. Nothing was simple, everything was so complicated behind the thick walls of your home. Fake bright smiles where somtimes even the Toothpaste couldn't clean the disgusting words you'd both spit at eachother behind close doors just to apologize minutes after with kept hatred inside.
It's as if you weren't there, but she was still here. It's not possible. She no longer existed and you wished you could swap places. She died so you can live but really and truly you didn't want to be here either.
The word is toxic and exhausting and larissa kept things joyful for you, always ready to sacrifice her happiness to see you smile. The memories of the good kept attacking your brain, handing in return instant headaches.
The first time you both laid eyes on eachother.
The time she asked you out on your first ever date.
The time she asked you to be her girlfriend.
The time she proposed.
The time she asked you to move in.
Right until the day you both said ' I do' the only soft, truthful words to ever be said to eachother. Maybe if larissa was here she offered up her happiness. You felt everything at once. It was all overwhelming. You wanted to be no where and here at the same time. The sadness you felt inside was unbearable yet no tears dared to escape..... they all stayed dried.
With a sigh you sniffed and made your way towards your seat, sitting besides Wednesday you flicked a warm smile towards her, you weren't sure if it was quite excalty warm though, after all your warmth was laying with her hands on her chest in a small, itchy casket. Larissa hated small spaces, if she was alive she wouldn't even be lying there now..... and that's how you knew she's really dead.
Because in the back of your head, there was a part of you that believed this was all a joke and that maybe thos was all a cruel prank to be played.
" are you ok?" You turned to look at the small girl besides you, forcing a smile you nodded. She definitely didn't believed you, to be honest who would?. Calling your heart broken would be an understatement, you don't know how celion dion sang that song because your heart definitely will not be going on without larissa. If you could have took her hand in death you would have.
"Til death do us part"
Wednesday truly cared for larissa, under her tough goth act there laid a heart of gold for the sapphire, Elsa blond hair and beautifully paled skin beauty.
You were once again broken from your trance as the pastor began to do his speech.
This you realized was your Roman empire, your own wife's death. You should really he celebrating her life but she hardly enjoyed her life. She was too tied up with work and you being on her back 24/7 percent of the time. She wasn't allowed space to breathe, well now she has more than enough.
After the pastor was done doing his speech you stepped on stage to say your urology - your last words. Taking a steady breath, and a long exhale you positioned the paper infront of you on the podium as you tried your best not to allow the tears their accompanied time frame.
" firstly, i want to thank you all for truly being here today so that we can honor our beloved and bright spark, Larissa Weems..... larissa was many things.... she was a principal, to some a English teacher. She was a daughter, a lover, a role model etc but t-to." You sighed as you looked down steading out your breath as your voice broke.
" to me larissa was much more than that in my life. I was a field of dead flowers before I met larissa, a-and she was like the sun that came out, bringing both warmth and healing into my life. She was and will forever be my hero that wore heels and my sunlight that brighten and made my life and day better. S-she never failed to make me smile or laugh, even giggle. I know to many of you she was so much more than just a sun.... she was the entire world even universe. And as we lay her to rest today I hope we all find the time to heal and be storng, because that's who larissa was, storng....."
Everyone sniffed, some clapped, most breaking down in tears. You never ment for anyone to shed even more tears or for any hearts to be broken any more than they already were you just needed everyone to find peace just as much as you wanted to find it as well.
After the funeral was over you hugged everyone goodbye and wished them a safe drive home as you also headed home, already planning to sleep because you couldn't accept the pain that you will feel after arriving home and realizing the house is empty.
As you pulled into the driveway you noticed the door looked pushed open. You weren't in the correct headspace but you knew for sure weren't crazy, you remember closing and locking the door perfectly well after leaving. After switching off the car and getting out you carefully walked up to the house - the mansion.
You fired all employees for three months with pay since you needed the time and house for yourself to simply be human and do human things which in this situation will be to grieve. Upon arrival you inspected the door before pushing it open and stepping inside slowly. If there was an intruder you'd rather catch them in the act, then call the police.
" hello?? Who's there? I suggest you just surrender now or I won't hesitate to call the cops on yo-" as you rounded the corner of the kitchen you saw larissa sitting on top of the countertop with her heels long forgotten on the carpet of the dinning room chair. Her lipstick was smudge as her legs swinged back and forth. She looked...... well not dead obviously. You knew for sure you weren't dreaming and she definitely looked very alive.
She moaned softly as she finished her wine and placed the glass down ontop the counter with a small cling. She sighed as a smirk was quickly painted across her face. You didn't know how to react. Maybe you should scream and run for your life, be happy and joyful or to maybe stay sad just incase this was your own mind manipulating you into a maladaptive dream land trance.
" hello darling....." She spoke in a low husky voice as her eyes flicked up towards yours, they were dark and swirling with desires for many things - things that you knew of and knew not of.
" did you miss me?" She asked as her eyebrows quirked up in a teasing manner. Your body stayed frozen as she jumped off of the counter and strides towards you very slowly. Her hips swayed as the smirk remained on her face. You could hear your rapid heartbeat in your chest with every closer step she took towards you, not breaking eye contact nor curving her lips into a non - smirk.
She finally stopped right infront of you as she tilted her head to the side, inspecting your face, possibly trying her best to read your every emotion as well as she can. As you looked into her eyes you saw, warmth, passion, love, peace, joy, everything that made larissa unique was swirling around in her sapphire iris, you felt your connection spark that you had with her ignite as her hands made their way around your waist pulling you flush against her body.
" I'm alive, my love. Long story but right now I think I'd rather cherish you" she whispered against your earlobe, gently pressing a kiss towards your neck before leaning back to look at your face, but again it remained blank because you did not have any reactions or emotions lingering on your face or in your eyes. It's like you were a statue, frozen before time.
Larissa chuckled softly, her hands making their upwards your chest Slightly grouping your breast making a moan escape your from the back of your throat. She grinned as she pushed you up against the counter. Despite all odds and questions that needed to be asked about everything that happened you needed her badly, she was like a drug that you needed desperately to live. You grabbed her cheeks and forced her lips against yours.
It took her by surprise but she quickly kissed back with the same equal amount of passion. You opened your mouth and gaved her access as she gladly took it by slipping in her tongue and using it to her advantage. Her hands traveled down your body wildly as she squeezed your ass and grabbed your hips harshly as she picked you up and took you to the bedroom.
She kicked the door open with her feet as she switched on the lamp light before throwing you onto the bed aggressively. She crawled up towards you and reconnected both your lips again in a heated, sloppy desperate kiss that spoke so much words that the lips could never utter.
You helped her take off her clothing as she helped you in return.
" fuck I need to taste you darling" she mumbled before spreading your thighs apart and smirking. She bit her bottom lip as she admired your baby pink lace panties before proceeding to pulling it to the side. She groaned as she saw your arousal spreaded all around your cunt as your puffy clit stared back at her. Larissa wasted no time as she enveloped her mouth onto your small bud immediately setting a fast sucking pace.
Your mouth fell open in a silent cry as your hands immediately flew to her hair pulling her even closer.
" your so fucking delicious darling" she purred as the vibrations from her speech made your shiver. Larissa used her hands to hold your thighs open to prevent you from squirming and bucking your hips as her tongue flicked back and forth against your clit in a rapid pace.
" f-fuck, larissa, I'm gonna cum." You whispered as she chuckled darkly, her hot breath on your cunt was driving you crazy. She knew fully well what she was doing to you. Your stomach twisted as you felt larissas fingers trace slow steady circles around your entrance that caused your back to arch.
" so needy for mommy huh baby, you need me to be alive to fuck you senseless" your brain began to get fuzzy, the effect larissa had on you was dangerous - deadly dangerous. Your grip in her hair tighten as your nails digged deeper into her scalp. Your eyes rolled back as she continued to violate your clit endless in the most oragam way possible.
You felt the knot in your stomach tied as it was ready to explode. Your other free hand gripped the sheets as you swore you were gonna leave holes in it.
" such a dirty slut for mommy darling" she cooed as she slowly thrusted her two slender fingers into you at once before pulling them out, and that was all it took before you cummed in her mouth. She removed her lips from your abused bud as she gently kissed it before leaving open mouth kisses on your hot sweaty skin all the way up to your lips.
She watched as you tried to catch your breath as you gently shivered.
" I'm not done yet princess" she whispered before leaning over towards the side table and pulling open the drawer, her hand rumbled around in there for a while before a pink clip on button vibrator cake evident in your eyes. Larissa smirked before snaking her way back down to your pussy. She took both sides of your underwear and pulled it down as you lifted your hips to assist her.
You spread your legs even wider for her. She looked up at you with an evil expression before attaching the vibrator to your sensitive clit. As soon as she turned on the button you collapsed onto the bed in pleasure. You moaned as her hand wrapped around your neck. She leaned down closely to your face, her lips ghosting yours. You leaned in to place a kiss onto her lips but she pulled away chuckling.
" such a needy little girl, letting me do what I want with her needy cunt" you gasped as she slipped her two slender fingers into your cunt, your eyes rolled back as you let out a sigh of satisfaction. You could hear as her fingers went in and out of your wet cunt with squelching noises and your sweet moans and whimpers for her. You were her bitch to fuck.
Her hold on your neck tighten even more as her pace picked up to something more brutal. You cried out as she curled her fingers in you, hitting your sweet spot over and over again that had you going dumb for her and crying. She loved the way your greedy cunt clench led down around her fingers. Your hips rocked back and forth desperate to meet her thrust.
" Come on darling, cum again for me" she cooed as she picked up her pace, pushing her fingers deeper into you lr cunt past knuckle length.
" OH GOD! MOMMY! P-PLEASEPLEASEPLEASE, NEED IT SO BAD" you screamed as larissa pinched your nipple before slapping it, feeling as your body quirked and trashed beneath her, as your cunt spasms around her fingers. You wanted to try to hold off your oragsm a little while longer, not wanting to seem ' truly desperate ' as a whore who just needed her pussy fucked every second of the day by her wife but you simply couldn't.
" I know you want to" she whispered in a sultry voice, and that was the end of you. Your back arched as you let out the most pornographic moan ever to be heard as you coated larissas fingers with your cream. She continued to fuck you through your oragsm until you couldn't take the overstiumlation anymore. She removed her fingers and cleaned them off with her tongue, keeping her eyes on you.
The way her tongue swirled around her everyone finger, licking up your juices that ran down her hand made your cunt throb. You gulp as you cleared your throat.
" I wanna ride you" you spoke lowly and larissa scoffed.
" go on, get the strap then you can fuck yourself on mommy big cock, maybe if we're lucky I can put a baby in you, get you all full and round with my baby" she groaned.
the thought along had you sprinting towards the closest to get the biggest strap with the most deepest curve possible.
And with this you knew tonight was going to be a very very long night....... hopefully one with pleasure and maybe when that's finished you can get the answers you deserve, because you didn't deserve all that pain and heartache.
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