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#my water bottle is still kind of cold so that helps. but
stveharringtn · 3 days
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hey love!! you are my favvvv spence writer, i’ve requested from you before and you deliver so beautifully, i truly thank you for that :)
i was wondering if i could request again, a soft comfort fem!reader fic, where she’s had debilitating headaches non stop and spencer relates, and helps her through the pain? i would really appreciate it, thank you in advance 💜
omg?? thank you so so much, especially since i haven’t written for him in a while!! i thank YOU for your kind words! thank you for this request, i hope i do it justice - sorry for the long wait! w; headaches but that’s ab it!
spencer steps into a quiet and dark and cold apartment, eyes squinting together as he tries to fumble for the lightswitch.
flipping on a dim light, he’s slightly worried by how silent it really is. his go bag is placed on the couch as he walks past the living room and towards the small hallway, hand reaching for the knob as he opens the door.
it creaks and he peeks his head in. he notices a lump in his bed, a small smile pulling at his lips. he step in fully, the door being pushed open on the way.
his hand lands on your back as his other reaches for a lamp.
“don’t turn it on.” it’s muffled against and his fingers graze the string as he stops, eyes moving and looking at the back of your head.
“why not?”
“my headache,” it sounds pathetic and small coming from your lips and he frowns, sitting down by you as his hand smooths a line up and down your spine. “it was too hot and i had to get up and turn on the air, lights made it worse.”
he nods in understanding, then realizes you aren’t looking. “i know… im sorry, you just lie here. i’ll be right back.”
you only nod, hair bunching up under you cheek. he walks towards the living room, pulling out a heating pad that had taken up the drawer of the side table by the couch for you in case of cramps.
he walks towards the kitchen, grabbing a glass. he fills it with water, before grabbing some advil - it never helped him, but maybe, and hopefully, it can help you.
he walks back towards the room, stepping inside. there’s enough moonlight shedding into the room that he can see. he places the heating pad down on his side of the bed, the water and advil on your nightstand, before stepping into the bathroom.
he reaches for the spray bottle that you keep there to trim his hair, a brush, and a single rubber band that rests on the sink. he makes his way back, pressing a hand in between your shoulder blades.
“can you sit up? it’ll be quick, i promise.”
you lay there for a moment before slowly moving and sitting up. he presses a kiss to your temple before sitting in behind you. “just keep your eyes closed. i’m sorry.”
you nod. he sprays some water into your hair, wetting it just enough to comb through the tangles. he didn’t know how to braid, but he’s going to try, so your hair isn’t bothering you while you try to get comfortable.
it’s a loose braid and loose strands of hair are still brushing at you cheeks, but it’s good enough. he stands from the bed, dragging the heating pad with him.
his hand rubs at your shoulder, helping you lie back down.
“sorry.” you whisper.
he looks up from where he’s plugging in the heating pad, a frown set on his face. “what for?”
“i know you’re tired and you just got home and now you’re taking care of me.”
“i wouldn’t have it any other way. i want you to feel better. if i didn’t care, i wouldn’t be doing this.”
you nod slightly, talking is even too much. he makes sure it’s on the lowest setting, hand cupping the underside of your head and covering the pillow with the heating pad. he gently places your head back down.
“that should help, if it doesn’t, let me know, okay?”
“mhm.” you hum softly.
“please don’t feel like you’re bothering me, you’re not. i love taking care of you,” you give him a small smile. his thumb traces your forearm. “there’s some advil and water when you feel up to taking anything. it might help. i’m going to change and then i’ll come and lie down with you, okay?”
you nod against the warmth, brows pinching together. he leans down and presses a kiss to the deep crease before walking away.
he’s quick changing and doing his nightly routine. slipping under the cool covers, he lets out a small sigh, eyes closing momentarily, before they open again and look over at you.
he smiles softly at the soft snores that leave your throat. he rolls over and pushes some hair from your cheek.
he’s surprised that you could even fall asleep, but he’s glad that you were able too.
he presses another kiss to your forehead before lying his head down close to yours.
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sugusearrings · 4 months
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( ' summertime sadness ' ) oh my god, i feel it in the air telephone wires above are sizzlin' like a snare honey, i'm on fire, i feel it everywhere nothing scares me anymore. kiss me hard before you go summertime sadness i just wanted you to know, that, baby, you the best.
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— summary: it's been a hard summer for suguru geto to adjust and deal with his emotions. while his best friend satoru gojo has been on a lot of solo missions lately, he's been spending a lot of time with you (fem!reader). — genre: smut ending with fluff — playing: summertime sadness by lana del rey — note(s): this is my first writing smut in a real long time. it won't be my last but i'm sorry if it wasn't spicy enough. i'm kind of rusty i sorry :( hints of virginity lost but not necessarily. — word count: 3k
— warnings: vaginal sex, fingering, oral sex (female receiving ), missionary, doggy, mating press, cumshot, squirting, and finger sucking
Maybe it was the heat wave.
Maybe it was the curse he digested not too long ago.
But Suguru was throwing up more than he usually does.
His eyes closed tightly as he felt everything come rushing out of his mouth to pour into the toilet bowl. Even when there was nothing left in his stomach to puke, his body kept going.
But you were behind him holding onto his dark silky locks so they wouldn’t get in the way or inside of the murky water. Despite him being in the middle of throwing up his insides, he was embarrassed to do this in front of you.
“It’s okay, Sugu..” you reassured him like you knew what he was thinking of. You rubbed his back gently with your free hand. His eyes glanced over his shoulder to you, he saw the small smile on your lips. He looked over back to the toilet seeing everything he’s eaten today. Maybe even yesterday too.
When he was finished, you reached over to flush it down. You went to get him a bottle of water while he washed his face. His face was flushed and hot. His throat was aching along with his stomach feeling hollow.
After drying it away with the spare wash cloth you had just for him, he took his extra toothbrush you bought him. As he brushed his teeth his amethyst color hues stared back at him. The lack of sleep was catching up to him. His dark circles were so noticeable these days. He knew you must have noticed them too. But you didn’t say anything, you have some of your own if you didn’t cover yours with makeup.
Your dorm had the biggest windows and nobody knew exactly why. But it came handy when it was the summer. Winter not so much. Suguru sat on the windowsill with the window wide open. There was barely a breeze and when there was one, it was a warm one.
He had a cigarette in the middle of his lips. It was quiet today. Satoru must still be away on his mission. He wasn’t exactly sure where Shoko was. So that just left you and him. It’s been like that for the past few weeks.
He could hear your gentle voice singing softly as you showered. As much as you whined about the brutal cold, you hated the warm weather. You didn’t like to sweat. Suguru couldn’t blame you for that. The smoke slowly blew out of Suguru’s thin lips as he just zoned out.
“Shoko’s bad habit is rubbing off on you.”
His eyes averted to you once he heard your voice. You wore an oversized shirt (his shirt that went missing a week ago) with nothing but your nude panties underneath. When you stretched the shirt rode up exposing the fabric that barely covered your rear. He couldn’t help but to stare. The amount of time you two spent together comfortability was formed. There was times you would change clothes in front of him and he would do the same. You never caught him staring but that’s because he knew how not to get caught.
“You see a flaw in Shoko?” Suguru teased you then took another pull. You smiled to yourself, placing your dirty uniform in the hamper.
“Cigarettes don't have a better taste, y’know?” You reminded him. He knew you were concerned about his health. You were always concerned about him. Suguru was hard to read for others but when it came to you. It was like you saw what he was thinking like it was written on his forehead. Suguru swore you had some kind of unique curse technique but you just reassured him you’re very observant. He still doesn’t believe that till this day.
“You don’t know what those curses taste like.”
Suguru put out the cigarette then flicked it away. He took his bottle of water.
“True but I could tell they’re bitter.”
You sat down on the edge of your bed. Your hair was still damp from the shower reaching past your shoulders now. He noticed how fast it was growing. He also noticed the dark circles of your own now. It wasn’t as dark as his but close enough. You looked so much younger without the makeup. He didn’t mind either but you not wearing makeup might be his favorite.
“What gave you that clue?”
He tilted his head to the side with a sly smirk. You both chuckled at the same time. A comfortable silence came afterwards. The breeze was cool now thanks to your shower. You glanced down at your bare feet.
“So they don’t come in different flavors?”
“Why the sudden interest in this again?”
Suguru never really recalled you or anyone really asking him about the taste. You shrugged your shoulders crossing your legs over the other. His eyes sneaked down to look at your bare legs. He could tell without even touching them they were so smooth. He quickly looked back up at you before you noticed.
“I’m just asking, Sug. I just wish,” you let out a soft sigh, “I just wish I knew how to consume them so you wouldn’t have too.”
A light blush crept on Suguru’s cheeks.
“Name…even if you could, I wouldn’t let you.” He smiled. “But thank you.”
“Anytime.” You smiled back. You laid back on the bed and closed your eyes. The heat started to slowly kick in. By the end of the night you knew you were going to take another shower.
“I bet your flavor is sweet.”
Suguru’s honey-like voice broke your thoughts. Your body shot up, feeling your eyes widened. Then you looked across to your friend who hasn’t moved from his spot. You blinked a few times before clearing your throat.
“H-huh?”
“You’ve been eating a lot of fruit lately. Especially cherries.” He told you nonchalantly with a shrug. You bit down on your bottom lip feeling the blood rush to your cheeks. You thought about the times you would eat your cherries after training because you would get hungry. You didn’t want a big meal to sit in your stomach plus cherries were in season.
Suguru would watch you bite down into the dark red fruit being careful not to bite into the seed. You would suck the remains on the seed before you placed them back into your container not wanting to throw them onto the ground. Your lips would a faint red after eating them all.
“T-they’re my favorite.” You mumbled shyly shifting a bit in your seat now. Suguru chuckled lightly.
“Am I making you nervous, name?”
“N-No!” You quickly answered. He let out a laugh, you haven’t heard him laugh like that in weeks. You didn't realize how much you missed the sound of his beautiful laughter.
“You’re lying.”
“Am not.”
“You think you’re the only one who can be observant?” He countered. You part your lips but close them making a thin line. He smirked knowing he used your own words against you.
Sure Suguru would flirt with you but so would Satoru. It didn’t mean anything, right?
But Suguru didn’t speak to Shoko like that and Satoru was just a natural flirt. You slowly shook your head. Suguru stood up from the windowsill. “You’re right, name. Cigarettes don’t taste any better. But I don’t have anything to replace it”
He was walking towards you now. Your breathing picked up but couldn’t be heard. His cat-like eyes stared at you like you were his prey caught in the corner. “I am very convinced you can help me with that.” He stood in front of you. You bit down on your bottom lip.
“H-how can I do that?” You asked nervously. Suguru smiled at your curiosity.
“Easy,” he sat down next to you to move your hair behind your ear to lean close, “let me taste you.” he whispered in a husky tone. You stiffened up with your face completely flushed and it wasn’t because of the heat. You both just stared at each other for a few moments.
Maybe it was the heat wave or the curse he just ate
Or maybe he was tired of hiding these urges he had whenever you would come around.
The way your skirt would flow when you would run or jump to block attacks. The way you stared up at him with your doe eyes. The way you would brush against him so close he could smell your perfume you would spray on the side of your neck.
But Suguru needed to taste you.
Suguru was down on his knees in front of the edge of the bed. Your leg was draped on his shoulders. Your panties were already on the floor completely forgotten. His eyes were half closed not wanting to miss the pleasure on your face as his tongue swirled inside your gummy walls. His tongue would creep and twirl around your swollen clit. You did your best to keep your moans down, not wanting to be loud. But Suguru was making it so hard.
"F…uck…S-ugu…mmf!” You muffled underneath your hand to contain your volume. Your toes curled behind his shoulders. Suguru wasn’t shy to make any noise. You could hear his tongue moving against your wet core. Whenever you tried to squirm, he would use his hands that were placed on your thigh to give you a tight squeeze as a warning.
He pulled his mouth away and replaced them with his two forefingers. He dragged them slowly up and down your wet slit.
“Just like I said, sweet.” His sultry voice spoke to you. You looked down to meet his gaze. His lips glistened from your wetness and his saliva. He had a smirk. He saw you try to shy away breaking the eye contact you two were sharing. He found it so cute.
“Don’t act all shy now, pretty girl. We’re only getting started.” He slowly pushed his two fingers at once. You could feel the pressure of your wells stretching for his long thick fingers. “You’re so tight, baby.” He groaned, pressing his tongue back inside of you. He was always good at mulit-tasking.
Suguru felt himself feeling a natural high. Maybe it was the heat that spiked this feeling but he was sure it was your pussy. The leftover taste of the curse completely washed away by your juices overflowing his taste buds. Your clit was throbbing against his thumb. You started to feel your lower abdomen tightening now.
“S-Suguru! Please!” You cried out reaching down to grab some of his dark hair. He made loud slurping and sucking sounds. He moaned against you to give vibrations like a tease. He pushed your thighs open as wide as they can be. He glanced up then back down at your pretty puffy lips. He pumped his fingers in and out at a fast pace. Your legs began to fidget.
“Are you going to cum, my pretty girl?” He taunted you. You nodded your head feeling your hips move on their own against his fingers.
“S-so…so bad I-I wanna cum.”
“What’s stopping you?” he smiled.
That’s when you finally lost it and gave in. You loosened your lower body into the pressure. Suguru flattened his tongue feeling a gush of your juices coming down. He moaned how much it was and how sweet it tasted. He didn’t want to waste not one drop. Even on his fingers he sucked down on them. He turned to you laying on your back, trying to gain composure. Your lower body was exposed but you still had his shirt on. He felt the warm breeze brushed against the back of his neck.
He forgot about the window that was still open.
“Take it off.”
He told you as he went back to close the window then pulled the curtains. As much as he didn’t care, he didn’t want someone to see the way you make those cute faces when you receive pleasure. That’s for his eyes only. You slowly sat up feeling your legs stiff and weak. The room was dark now the curtain was closed. He looked over at you still with his shirt on. “You really don’t like to listen do you, hm?”
“I-I -”
He walked back over to you. He started to pull the bottom of the shirt over your body. Your arms automatically rose to help him remove the last bit of clothing you had left. It wasn’t too dark in your room. He could still see your breasts bounce back into place on your chest. He smiled.
“Such a pretty girl.” he purred. He removed his regular white shirt along with his loose joggers. You swallowed and moved to the middle of the bed. Your eyes gazed down at him slipping out of his boxers. He sprung free and you nearly choked. You couldn’t get over how he was just perfect everywhere.
His cock just thick and long. He had a few perfect veins, one vein going up to his tip that was already leaking of pre-cum. Suguru noticed you staring and chuckled lightly.
“We’ll make it fit, pretty girl. I promise.”
“H-how?” You blurted out leaning back on the few pillows you had on your bed.
“I have some kind of experience.” His larger frame hovered over you. You raised your bright brow.
“Oh?”
“Mhm.”
It shouldn’t have bothered you but it was more of a bit of this new found jealousy. This new feeling. Or maybe you always felt like this and just repressed it. Like that one time you overheard Suguru speaking with Mei Mei. Of course she was flirting with him but he also flirted back. You felt some kind of tightening in your chest. You gave him a whole silent treatment for the rest of the day. He was so clueless why you did. He did apologize.
Suguru could see your puzzled face. He leaned down to press his lips against your own. Your stupid thoughts were pushed to the side once the kiss began to heat up. His tongue claimed dominance you knew you couldn’t fight for. You could taste yourself on his lips and tongue. You moaned into his mouth as your tongues massaged against each other.
He aligned himself a bit since he was so much taller than you.
“There’ll be some discomfort.” He mumbled against your lips. You rolled your eyes as you pulled away to scoff.
“I’ve been stabbed and thrown out of a building how many times?”
“Not many because Satoru and I were always there to -”
“Suguru.” You cut him off with a glare. He laughed and gave you another kiss.
He dragged his tip up and down your slit. You let out a shaky breath already making a mess just with that alone. Suguru took note and smirked. “I didn’t even do anything and you’re already a wet mess, pretty girl.” He purred.
“S-shut up and fuck me…” you breathed out. He was amused how eager you were starting to become.
“Hmm…you could say it a lot nicer, name.”
“Suguru I swear I –”
He pushed his tip against you. You gasped then your doe eyes widened. You gazed up at him. He studied your face before pushing further. A strong pressure was being pressed against you. Suguru sucked in a harsh breath. “I need you to relax, name. Be a good girl for me.”
It was like his voice put you under a spell.
You nodded slowly and tried your best to ease your body. He kissed along your neck and shoulder. You felt his hair brushing against your heated cheek. You bit your lip trying to contain a moan from coming out. He nibbled down on your collar bone then began to suck down on it. After he was done he went to breasts and sucked down on your nipple. His tongue swirled around it slowly with his eyes staring up at you.
After a few moments, Suguru pushed the tip inside of you. Another shaky breath escaped your lips.
“You’re doing a good job, baby. Just like that…” he whispered into the crook of your neck. It didn’t take long till he was able to push more of his thick grith inside of your tight core. You felt a sharp discomfort like Suguru warned you. He stood still so your tight warms could adjust for his cock. “You’re okay baby?” You mumbled a mhm and gave him a nod.
This definitely wasn’t like being stabbed or thrown out of a building.
He strokes your cheek and admires your facial features. You were used to him staring at you but not too closely. You tried your best not to break eye contact. But even in the slight darkness, he could see how your cheeks darken. You look beautiful as ever to him.
“Y-you can move, Sugu…” you whispered.
“Are you sure?”
You nod. He gave you another kiss then he began to thrust his hips slowly. The slight discomfort came back but the pleasure started to mask over the pain. You began to pant heavily when Suguru picked up his pace. You were moaning and whining with the movement of your hips trying to follow his rhythm. The jolt of pleasure shooting up your spine.
Since the curtains were closed the room’s temperature began to rise. A light form of sweat formed on your forehead making your hair press against it. Suguru could feel a thin layer of sweat on his back.
“Mmm…fuck…this pussy is so good to me.” He moaned into your ear. His moan alone made you become a sloppier mess. He was able to push deeper inside of your gummy walls. Your walls expand for his cock hitting your spot over and over.
“Suguru…a-ahhh..”
He rolled his hips then began to pound into you. Your nails raked down his lower back then clung into your skin feeling your back being pressed into the mattress. The headboard was banging into the wall behind it. Thankfully you’re not next to anyone.
“Suguru!” You screamed out. Suguru smirked. Sure he didn’t want to get caught but hearing you yell his name out, he was willing to take the risk.
“Squeeze me, name. That’s it. Good girl. Your pretty pussy is hugging my cock so tight.”
“I-I…y-you…Sugu” You couldn’t even form a sentence being a rambling mess at this point. Cock drunk for the first time. Your vision was blurry with tears of pleasure but you could see Suguru’s beautiful face flushed. Your hand reached behind to hold onto the headboard. But he snatched it away and laced your fingers together.
“You’re mine, you hear me, name? All mine.” He breathed into your neck before he licked up your pulse. You nodded rapidly.
“A-all yours, Sugu…” you babbled, feeling his lips leave kisses on your chest down to your neck again. He loved to hear you become so vulnerable to him. "Forgot how to use your words, pretty girl? I thought you were a smart girl." He chuckled pushing your thighs to your chest and your legs against the headboard. You held your breath feeling him slide deeper you swore you could feel him in your guts. "Well look at that, you're completely stuff with me now." His eyes stared down watching your pussy engulfing him whole. He could see himself twitch inside of her. "S-Sugu...p-please..." you whined just aching for him. His eyes moved to your face. He smirked seeing how desperate you were for him. Your eyes barely open and cheeks darkening from the temperature of the room. He started to pound into you feeling every inch of him in this new position. "F-Fuck! Ngh!" You cried out not able to move with him pressing your thighs down on your chest with his board chest against your legs. He was heavily panting onto your face. He pressed his forehead against yours then leaned in for a kiss. It was a sloppy kiss but it made it easier for him to just go as deep as he wanted. You both could hear how wet you were with the loud sounds your pussy made with each time he pounded into you.
He suddenly pulled out of you completely.
You backed away from the kiss, confused and whiny.
“Suguru..” you whined out in the dark.
“Don’t be a brat now, princess,” he chuckled, then moved your body so you can be lying on your stomach, “I think you can handle me like this now, hm?”
His voice was so taunting and sexy at the same time. He could have made you do whatever he wanted. You nodded your head.
“Y-yes! Please just…need your cock back inside of me.”
Your hips moved eagerly. He reached over to grab a pillow and lifted your lower body to put your pillow underneath you.
“Arch your back…such a good girl. Look at you taking orders now.” He placed his hand on the fat of your ass. He lifted it up to see your swollen puffy folds, dripping to your inner thighs. He smiled admiring you. “I can’t believe you were hiding this from me. I’ll remember that for punishment later on.”
Your eyes widen and a faint blush crept on your cheeks.
“Geto…”
“Oh. You’re addressing me like that?”
He placed a smack on your ass cheek. You whined and buried your face back into the pillow, closing your eyes tightly. He squeezed and massaged the fat of your ass before he greeted your slit with his tongue again. Your lips part to let out a faint moan, moving your hips back to him.
Suguru removed his tongue to replace it with his cock. He pushed back into you hearing a small wince for you. He started to slam his hips into your ass. Your walls clench around him, squeezing him tighter than before. One hand tightened on your hip then the other was placed on the back of your neck and squeezed. Your face being pushed into the pillow.
“Fuuuuuck. Name, n-name….”
You nearly came just hearing the way he moaned your name. Suguru felt his cock throbbing. You were babbling, slight drool coming from the corner of your mouth. Tears from the corner of your eyes going down your flushed cheeks. You came for the third time before Suguru gave you one last harsh thrust and release his warm load into you.
Your heavy panting and breathing matched with his. He slowly pulled out watching his load leaking out of you now. He took two of his fingers and coated them with it. He brought them to your lips.
“Suck.”
You lazily leaned over to place your mouth over his fingers and do what you were told. When you finished, he moved your hair out of your face. He leaned down to kiss you and your shoulder over the marks he left.
He wondered how noticeable they were going to be. Suguru got up and went to get your wash cloth then came back to clean you up. After placing the washcloth in the hamper, he laid next to you in the stuffy room rubbing your back. You couldn’t keep your eyes open and went to sleep instantly. He chuckled, kissing your lips then got up to shower.
Suguru felt better after the cool shower he had. He placed your blanket over your naked body as you snored quietly. He grabbed his stolen shirt that was thrown onto the floor and put it on.
He walked over to the window to open the curtain half way. He was greeted by the cool breeze.
He sat on the windowsill and went to light another cigarette but he was interrupted by a knock on the door.
“Hey! Name! Have you seen Suguru? He hasn’t been answering my calls or texts!” Satoru’s voice was heard behind the door as he kept knocking.
Suguru gazed over to you then got up to answer the door. He opened the door enough for him to see Suguru but not enough to see you. Satoru was surprised Suguru answered the door. His eyes were slightly larger but a grin formed on his lips.
“Speak of the devil himself.”
“Didn’t expect you back so soon, Satoru.” Suguru smiled back. Satoru scoffed at his best friend .
“Only the weak would struggle with that kind of mission. Speaking of, where’s name?”
Suguru made a mental note of how often Satoru would come to your room. Alone.
“She’s asleep. The heat made her a bit fatigued.” He answered. Satoru nodded.
“It is fucking hot today.” He began to unbutton a few buttons on his uniform shirt. That’s when his eyes lowered down to Suguru.
“Hey! Suguru, you found your shirt! Where was it?”
“Name stole it.”
Suguru smiled softly. A smile he hasn't had in weeks.
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dcxdpdabbles · 7 months
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DC x DP: Magic Older Brother
It happens the day of his high school graduation because Casper High is cursed, and the curse personally targets Danny. Danny doesn't care what anyone says. He will die on that hill.
The school is cursed, which is why he turned into a halfa in his freshmen year, throwing his life into chaos all throughout sophomore and junior year, and now that he was finally leaving it, this happens.
An attack by a ghost he has never seen or met before. She calls herself "Lady Gotham," and her name doesn't hint at her power or obsession, unlike other ghosts.
He finds it rather rude of her to burst the graduation ceremony just as they called his name.
Danny knew he could take her- she felt more like a city spirit than a ghost, which means she was terribly weak against Phantom- but with so many witnesses, he hadn't been able to transform. Instead, he was blasted with black tar paste that reverted him to the age of ten, and while he stumbled on tiny legs, she took him and threw him into a portal.
He had attempted to shift into his ghost side as soon as he landed, but something was anchoring his core. It felt like he had been hit with the Plasmius Maximus- his powers were out of reach.
He would not be able to take her in a fight after all.
Thankfully, she had been distracted by his parents attempting to rescue him, so she got trapped on the other side of the portal. Still, he felt it would be safer to get as far away from the random field she kidnapped him to before she could return.
So he was running in an unknown storm, to an unknown location from an unknown city spirit instead of having his graduation party with his friends and eating cake.
"Casper High just couldn't give up even on the last day," Danny grumbles while running through the pouring rain of a terrible storm, trying to see through the water and the howling wind. He was drenched head to toe in the water, and he could feel even his bones shaking. He hasn't been this cold since the day his Ice core materialized.
Up ahead, he spots a building. Praying they will take pity on him, he pushes himself to go faster until he's at the door, banging on it with his tiny fists.
"Is someone there? I need help!" He yells as the wind picks up again, almost throwing Danny off balance. "Open the door, please!"
The door cracks open, and one tiny blue eye peeks up at him briefly before it swings open. "Come in! Hurry!"
Danny doesn't need to be told twice as he all but throws himself into the giant building, away from what he is starting to suspect is a hurricane. He turns around to find a little boy- he couldn't be older than nine- struggling with closing the garage door. Danny is quick to help him, and together, after tucking and grunting, they get it shut.
"Thanks," Danny says trying to gather his breath. He glances around, startled to see he's in a big fancy house that reeks of money, maybe more than Vlad or Sam. It is also deadly silent and bare as if someone only attempted to make it look lived-in but forgot to get humans.
"Don't mention it." The kid says almost under his breath. Danny would think of him as shy if the boy wasn't staring at him without so much as blinking.
Kind of creepy.
"Are you here because of my poster?" The kid asks, and Danny has no idea what he's talking about, but he's not about to make the creepy kid angry.
"Sure am."
The boy beams. "This is the first time anyone has responded! Come this way. I have everything in the main ballroom!"
Danny follows eyes taking in all the tasteful decor of various cultures and the complete lack of any other person present. After getting stranded, he found a mansion tucked away from human contact in search of shelter. Strange how that has happened to him twice
The boy leads him to two large double doors which he proudly opens up with a loud "Ta-da!"
Inside the ballroom are rows and rows of bed cots, blankets, and pillows. On one side of the room are tables with water bottles, bowls of snacks, and even little goodie bags. There are board games on a nearby table and clothes folded neatly in various sizes. Next to the tables are piles of teddy bears.
It looks like a movie set of a makeshift shelter that could easily fit a hundred people. Again there is no one else but them. Double creepy.
The boy skips between the first two cots, gesturing to the room. "You're the first one here, so you can first pick! I have board games, food, and clothes for you to burrow at the front if you want! I'm sure we'll have more people soon if you come!"
Danny offers the kids a weak smile. "Thanks."
"You're welcome! I'll go wait for everyone at the door. You make yourself comfortable."
While Danny cautiously explores, the kid races back to wait at the door for who knows who. The first thing he does is change into a warm set of clothes- picking a grey set of sweat pants and long sleeve that fits his tiny limbs. He grabs a water bottle and a bag of chips before his eyes land on a pile of brightly colored posters, likely forgotten on the table.
Strom Shelter for free at Drak Mansion
Everyone Welcome!
Sleeping, clothes, food and entertainment are provided!
Kids are invited to Tim Drake's birthday party on the same night!
Doors open at 5pm.
Oh gosh. Oh no.
He looks around the completely empty room and, for the first time, notices a small corner with a very sad "Happy Birthday" banner and a few party hats. At the edge of the table sits a folded half-sheet cake with a lopsided candle in the shape of a nine.
Above that little corner is a large clock that reads ten o'clock.
He puts his things down on a random cot, carefully returning to the front door where the little boy- he assumes Tim Drake- is waiting. He's leaning back and forth on his feet, and Danny can barely pick up his soft words.
"It's okay; they're all just really late. One person came this time so more could be on their way! Don't be sad, Tim. Things are looking up!"
Bless his heart.
Danny tries to reach for his ghost powers and grins when his ice core responds. He glances back at the little boy before he slips into the ballroom. He quickly re-decorates the party corner using his ice, making it look like actual decorations.
He even goes out of his way to open bottles of colored juices- he doubts anyone would drink them- and freezes the liquid so it adds a bit of color to the room. He's left with a winter wonderland with ice sculptures of animals- kids like animals, right?- and he gathers a birthday boy.
"Hey, Tim?"
The kid hurries to his side. "Yes? Did you need something?"
"Yeah, I need the birthday boy to cut his cake!"
Danny strong-arms the kid into the room and is delighted by the absolute happiness that blooms over the boy's face once he sees the room. "Wow! Did you do this?"
"Sure did, kid."
"Are you a wizard like Harry Potter?" The boy asks, and Danny has no idea who that is, but he nods anyway. Maybe it's this world's version of Santa Claus? Who is he to deny the kid's sense of wonder.
"Don't tell anyone." He says with a wink.
"But-But- but I'm a muggle!" The boy cries, suddenly horrified. Danny wonders if that's a slur, and if so, he won't allow him to use it to describe himself with it. "You'll get in trouble for using magic before me!"
"Why?"
"Cause muggles can't know about magic unless they are family! They'll throw you in Azkaban!"
Ugh, okay, he can work with that. "Well, I guess this makes us brothers, doesn't it?"
Tim's eyes practically pop right out of his skull. "Really?!
"Yeah, I'll be your big brother. My name is Danny and we can do something you always wanted to do for your birthday. How does that sound?"
"We can do....anything?"
"It depends on what you want to do, as long as it's legal and safe."
"Will.....you read me a bedtime story? I always wanted to know what that's like."
Danny's heart shatters. "Sure of course. What book do you want to read?"
Tim's face goes slightly pink. "The new Harry Potter book just came out. The goblet of fire? Can we read that?"
Oh, so Harry Potter is a book series! "Sure, Tim. Let's cut the cake and then we can pick a cot to pile blankets on to snuggle down and read."
Danny had never seen a kid look so happy in his life "Okay!"
Later, as Tim is tucked into the crook of his neck and shoulder, fast asleep after the exciting chapter of Harry Potter outflying a dragon Danny is visited by Lady Gotham.
It is only because Tim is too comfortable that he doesn't start swinging at her. She explains Tim's life and the obvious neglect before she bends down until her forehead touches the ground and begs Danny to care for him in her stead.
By morning, the Drakes suddenly acquire a new family member, and no one notices how he appeared overnight, but he's in the system, and no one can fault the documents. Lady Gotham made them herself.
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woso-dreamzzz · 22 days
Text
Nena V
Barcelona Femení x Child!Reader
Summary: You're sick
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It started with a little cough.
Ingrid didn't really think anything of it. Sometimes, you just had a cough. It wasn't really a big thing which was why she was so happy to leave you in Mapi's company while she went to do some media things.
Only, the cough seemed to be getting worse.
It started out as a little tickle in the back of your throat at breakfast and then got more and more scratchy as time went on. Your head started to pound too and your arms felt all weird and heavy in a way that you had never really experienced before.
"Hey," Mapi said, shaking you lightly," Are you okay?"
You shook your head, eyes squeezing shut. "My throat don' like me, Mapi," You said, squeezing at your neck as if it would help.
You coughed again. Your eyebrows drew together after it took you a while to stop.
From just outside your field of vision, a hand moved until it was pressed against your forehead.
Your frown deepened as you darted your eyes to the side. The hand belonged to Irene. You looked at her.
She was frowning too. "Does it hurt to swallow, Nena?"
You nodded miserably.
"Say aah."
"Aah!"
Irene moved closer so she could look in your mouth, frown deepening for a moment before she drew away and nodded.
"You've got a case of tonsillitis there, Nena."
You don't know that word but you nodded because Irene is a mama and mamas know things like this.
"Tonsillitis?!" Mapi exclaimed, her voice going very squeaky," Shit! Is she going to die? Do we need to call an ambulance?!"
Irene rolled her eyes. "She just needs some medicine and for you to calm down. Once Ingrid's back, you can take her home. It's not that serious."
Mapi certainly looked like this was serious. "Does she need them removed?!"
Irene laughed. "Not right now. If it gets worse or keeps happening then yes, maybe, but what she needs now is medicine and some water. Calm down, Mapi."
Mapi took a deep breath before panic flashed on her face. "I don't have kid's medicine!"
"I do." Irene pulled a little bottle out of her bag and shook it. "I was meant to bring it home for Matteo but I'm sure he can share."
You dutifully took the medicine even though it tasted kind of yucky and drank the water Mapi put in front of you.
Breakfast was easy after that but there was separate training for the defenders so Mapi had to hand you off to someone else to watch.
Tia Alexia sat next to you when she took a break from her gym session.
You felt better than earlier but still a little bad.
Tia Alexia checked your temperature like how Irene did and you leaned into her cold hand. She laughed.
"Careful there, Nena," She said," Don't go falling asleep on me."
"'m not sleepin'," You slurred, forcing your eyes open and squinting at her.
"Sure you're not," Alexia said, pushing the hair out of your eyes," But I need those eyes of yours open. Can I check your throat?"
Everyone had been checking your throat now. Irene did it earlier. Mapi did it a lot before she trained. Even Marta and Caro had looked at it for some reason.
It was routine now so you opened your mouth and stuck out your tongue.
Alexia looked inside for a moment, nodding a few times before getting you to drink from your water bottle. She checked your throat again afterwards before she went back to her weights.
She kept looking back at you though, as if to check you hadn't disappeared or anything.
Honestly, you don't think that you have the strength to just up and disappear. You were content to be miserable on the floor with your scratchy throat until your next babysitter came to get you.
You missed Ingrid. You wish she finished her job so she could come and get you. Last year when you had the flu, Ingrid flew all the way back home to make sure you were okay. Mama didn't like that because she thought it was making you co-dependent or something but Ingrid and you didn't care.
Ingrid made the best soup and she had medicine that tasted nice, not like the one that Irene gave you earlier.
"What with the grumpy face, Nena?" Lucy asked as she joined you, poking at your cheek. "Why aren't you smiling?"
"Ingrid's not here," You whined," And I'm sick."
"You're sick? How come?"
"I just am!" As if the punctuate your point, you flew into a big coughing fit.
Lucy looked very worried, flapping her hands about like Mapi did earlier and looking around the room as if someone would save her.
Tia Alexia came back and wedged the straw of your bottle back into your mouth as soon as you finished coughing.
"When is Ingrid done?" She asked as you drank your water," Nena really needs to go home. Some cuddles and a nap would do her wonders."
"She should be done soon," Lucy said," I don't think she knows yet. I can go and check."
"No," Alexia said," I'll send Patri and Pina. You've still got a gym session to get through."
"I can wait with her until Ingrid comes," Lucy insisted, looking down pointedly at you as you began to scratch at your throat again," Do we need to give her more medicine? She looks uncomfortable."
Alexia looked at her watch. "We've still got another two hours before we can give her another dose."
You scratched harder at your throat and Lucy gently took your hand to bring it away. You whined a little, pulling out her grip. She was running warm. You didn't like that. You wish she were cold like Tia Alexia was.
Lucy was like a furnace as she sat next to you and you edged as far away as possible. You tugged at your shirt and kept having to shift around because your clothes were sticking uncomfortably to your skin.
Your throat was getting very scratchy again and you whined.
"Ooh," A new voice said," That doesn't sound very good."
You whined again and raised your arms.
Ingrid picked you up instantly, checking your forehead with the back of her hand and looking down your throat like everyone else had done.
"Irene says there's somethin' wrong with my tonsils," You replied.
Ingrid smiled, pushing your head into her neck. "That's okay," She said," How about we go home? I'll make you some soup and we'll have some cuddles."
"With Bagheera?"
"Yes, with Bagheera."
"Is your Mapi coming?"
"Mapi can come too."
"And I get soup?"
Ingrid laughed. "Yes, you get soup."
"Okay."
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tlou-reid · 24 days
Text
Wine-Tainted Water ❤︎ Spencer Reid
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from the river to the sea, palestine will be free 🇵🇸 READ: this account stands with palestine, and so— i require everyone who interacts to educate themselves, and support/donate. READ THESE; 1 and 2, HELP HERE, BOYCOTT. silence is complicity, do not scroll past this.
♡ SUMMARY: after a night out with their team, spencer and his lover take a bath together. based on one line of dress by taylor swift.
♡ WARNINGS: alcohol, reader and spencer are drunk, grossly cute fluff, not edited and in all lowercase
♡ NOTE: this is probably my favorite thing i've ever written
˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
“i’m spilling wine in the bathtub. you kiss my face and we’re both drunk. everyone thinks that they know us. but they know nothing…”
you were too drunk to understand how the rest of the team didn’t see you and spencer sneak into the same uber. you were sure spencer would also question how you two got away with it, if it were something he was bothered to consider. but, right here with you, the rest of the team was the last thing on his mind.
despite his knees being pressed almost all the way to his chest and his arms being haphazardly thrown over the side of the tub, there was no other position he’d want to be in right now.
you were laughing at something he said—that much he knew. your face was scrunched up and your smile was probably the biggest he’d ever seen it. the alcohol cursing through your blood was definitely aiding in your laughter. you were always a giggly drunk, spencer realized.
not that he was any better. he wasn’t sure if he was more love drunk or alcohol drunk. the bar the team had visited was running a special on vodka cranberries, and he had definitely had a few too many. he wasn’t sloppy drunk or not in control of himself drunk, but he was the kind of drunk that made the tips of your fingers go numb.
he was trying to gauge where you are on that spectrum. you had stuck to wine, so you aren’t feeling as dizzy as he currently is, but you had a few more than him.
spencer quickly gave up on trying to pinpoint your location on this imaginary drunk scale he’d made up. he was too entranced by the words you were attempting to form. “spence!” you cheered, holding out the wine class he’d teased you for grabbing.
“what are you doing?” spencer said with a teasing smile as you made your way to his kitchen cabinet. “you still have that bottle of sangria?” you asked, with a much more stable tone than you had now. “yes?” spencer was clearly confused, “i thought you wanted to take a bath?” you laughed in reply, “there’s no law against having wine in the bathtub.” he couldn’t argue with that.
that was probably over an hour now. the water had run cold and the vanilla scented bubble bath you’d dumped in was starting to fade.
“another glass?” he questioned, taking your glass and reaching for the bottle you’d propped up against the side of the bathtub. “mhm!” you nodded, stretching out your legs a little bit. neither of you were comfortable per say, but the alcohol and love in the air was easily masking the joint pain you were starting to experience. squeezing into a tub with a man as tall as spencer was not an easy feat, but you were desperate to make it work.
“do you think anyone noticed?” spencer asked, referring to your hasty exit from the bar. “i dunno,” you mumbled as he handed the glass back to you, “i don’t really care either.” for some reason, your simple reply made spencer smile. he also didn’t care, he decided as soon as the words left your mouth.
“plus,” you started after taking a sip of your wine. spencer could tell you were about to ramble. it was a thing in your relationship. if one of you wasn’t rambling, the other definitely was. and you both listened to each other carefully, never invalidating or rushing them. it was nice to be with someone who talked like he did, spencer thought.
“even if they did, they don’t really know.” you emphasized. “like, they only really know work us, y’know?” spencer didn’t know. the team was his family and definitely knew more about him than simply who he was at work. with one quirk of an eyebrow, however, he was able to get you to explain your train of thought.
“see!” you gestured to his facial expression. as your body excitedly moved to show that your point had been proven, even if spencer was still confused, your almost full wine glass shook, sending red sangria into the bath water. spencer held back his laugh as you gently splashed it towards him. you took another sip, before continuing your explanation.
“i was very easily able to tell you didnt understand what i was saying. because we know each other. really know each other. so who cares if they think we’re dating? i mean i’ve seen parts of you no one else has, like i’ve seen your butthole, spencer. has anyone else on the team seen your butthole? exactly.”
spencer couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled over from his throat. you were speaking so passionately and so clearly about this, it was the most adorable thing he’d ever seen. he couldn’t tell if the warmth radiating through his chest was from the alcohol or from the way you existed in this space. he never wanted to leave this bathtub.
spencer couldn't help himself as he launched forward. the wine-tainted water that went flying over the side of the tub would be a problem for tomorrow. right now, all he was worried about was pressing a million and one kisses to the part of cheek that bubbled up when you smiled. he gently caressed your face as he moved closer to you. not even the pain in his back from his sudden jolt forward could slow him down.
you grip tighten on your wine glass, making sure it was secure in your hand as spencer moved. the bathroom acoustics made your fit of laughter sound as perfect as beethoven's third sympony to spencer. your giggles bounced off the wall, right into his heart as he kisses moved from your cheeks to being peppered around your entire face. his hands moved down to your sides, pulling you closer to him.
"spencer!" you squealed as his fingers wiggled against your sides. you could feel your grip on your glass loosening as he tickled you. "spencer! stop!" you laughed, using your feet to push against his thighs, effectively pushing him away. the bathroom was silent as you both came down from the giggle high you'd been on.
after another sip of wine, you spoke, "what was that for?" there was no malice behind your words. no accusatory tone or anger from his actions. you were smiling, basking in spencer's rare show of affection. he simply shrugged, "i just love you," he declared. you, once again, giggled at his words, "i love you too."
spencer sighed, holding up his hand to show you his pruning fingers. he was starting to sober up, so the cold of the bath water was beginning to effect him. "it might be time to get out, love." your bottom lip jutted out, expressing a disappointment that was far too dramatic for his simple sentiment. "don't wanna," you mumbled, pulling your glass to chug the rest of the wine before spencer made you get up.
spencer let out a laugh as you chugged, encouraging you to keep going. you finished the glass incredibly quickly. "i'm getting cold," he cooed, grabbing the empty glass and placing it on the floor, out of the way of where either of you would step out of the tub. "m'kay," you mumbled, not wanting spencer to suffer at your expense. spencer slow stood, not wanting to get any more water on the floor. he reached for the towel on the rack, dropping in on the floor, protecting your feet from where he overflowed the water earlier.
"stay here," he instructed before stepping out. he went to grab another towel. he quickly threw one around his waist, before reaching for the fluffiest one he could find. he returned to the side of the tub, leaving the towel to rest on the sink.
"ready?" he questioned, holding out his hand for you to take. in your drunken state, you were extremely grateful for his help to get you on your feet. he held onto you as you stepped over the wall of the bathtub, and didn't let go until you were standing stable. then, he reached for the towel, wrapping you up in it's warmth.
he rubbed his hands along the sides of your body, drying it to the best of his ability. the smudged makeup and goofy smile that painted your face had his heart racing.
"you ready?" he gestured to the door as he spoke. you nodded in response, pulling the towel tighter around your body. "i don't want to go to work on monday," you informed him as you walked the hallway to your room. "me neither," he agreed, reaching in his drawer for two oversized shirts. he slipped on a pair of boxers before moving to grab your comfiest pair of underwear.
you had made yourself comfortable on the edge of the bed, not wanting to wet where you or spencer would lay down. "legs up," he mumbled as he bent down. he slid the underwear up your legs, and helped you lift your butt up when he got to the top. once you were comfortable in them, he slipped on his shirt.
"arms up," you nodded at his words, instantly shooting them straight up in the air. as he slid the shirt over your arms, you spoke. "can we watch love is blind?" your voice sounded tired, despite the facade you were keeping of being wide awake. "yeah," he promised as he helped you lay down. once you were dressed and covered, he moved to the other side of the bed. he climbed in next to you, and you tried to ignore the way your head spun as he shifted to get comfortable.
"do you wanna watch the new one?" he asked. "mhm," you hummed. he pressed play on it, knowing you'd be asleep by the time the intro scene ended.
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freyito · 4 months
Text
ʟɪᴛᴛʟᴇ ᴛʜɪɴɢꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ᴋᴏᴍʙᴀᴛ ʙᴏʏꜱ ᴅᴏ
so sorry for the little mini hiatus! im finally allllll moved in and i think all i really needed was like. a clean space. refreshed my mind a bit, lol. can't promise i'll have a steady schedule cause im still working on my inbox, just dont wanna get anything done (after this) til i've finished my new masterlists... anyways! ideas been in my head forever, need to get it off my chest NOW
cw: gn reader, just fluff, not proofread
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⎯ Liu Kang
Liu Kang will come up with poetry ON THE SPOT. It's crazy scary how quick he is with it. He chooses something about you and just runs with it. How your eyes are just the most enticing color in the sunlight, just how beautiful you are in kombat...
⎯ Bi-Han
Bi-Han will place little notes around the house or on things he knows you use often. He'll place one on the cover of the book your currently reading, or even within the pages. Little love notes, mainly motivating you, praising you... but he'll write a simple 'I love you', too.
⎯ Kuai Liang
Specifically whenever it's colder, Kuai willpull you in for a hug, and make his body temperature increase. He'll do it under different circumstances sometimes, even to tease you. He likes to keep you close as his temperature steadily rises. Perfect for cold nights.
⎯ Johnny Cage
Footsies. Anytime you two are sitting across from each other, either at the dinner table, or at some fancy restaurant, Johnny's always tapping at your shins, your knee, anything. Brings you closer, in a way.
⎯ Kenshi Takahashi
Kenshi has a habit of placing his hand on your head, whenever he feels like it. He'll play with your hair, or scratch at your scalp. He likes the texture, but he also just enjoys messing with you a little bit.
⎯ Kung Lao
Tickling you. Always and forever. Kung Lao will take the most inopportune moments to taze your sides, find those soft bits of flesh that make you giggle in just the right way.
⎯ Raiden
Raiden will do the little heart thing with his hands (or fingers) from across the room when he can't be with you. Eventually, he'll even try to do it with his lightning. It's an uncontrollable variable, and it takes him so LONG to get ahold of it. But, when he finally gets it, he's all giddy.
⎯ Zeffeero
As much as Rain groans and complains that his magic shouldn't be used for mundane things or fun, sometimes he'll form water into little hearts or stars. All for you. But he'll do it away from you, and kind of side-eye you, to make sure your watching.
⎯ Tomas Vrbada
Smoke has a tendency to sway whenever you two hug. Specifically when it's a longer hug. He just finds the motion comforting! He'll hum a little as he does this, too. That hum starts small, but then it catches on, he'll hum the same tune to you before you fall asleep.
⎯ Baraka
Point. Why? Baraka doesn't know. But he kinda likes your reaction. You two have a little game where he'll point, and you'll pop up and look around, do the whole "who, me?" thing. It's like a displacement behavior for him. Secretly, he kind of just wants to place his whole hand on your face like a basketball. He won't. Too risky.
⎯ Geras
Since Geras is still kind of unfamiliar with mortal love, he'll bring you little vials of sand. Kind of like bottles of shelves you'd find in a souvenir shop? He also most definitely asks Liu Kang for help throughout your relationship. So, normally, you get sent little (they're not little actually, they're like 5-page essays) love letters via Liu Kang.
⎯ Syzoth
Syzoth will flick his tongue over your cheek unintentionally. He swears! He's not doing it on purpose! You'll be lying down, or just close in general, and boom! There's the tongue!
⎯ Havik
Havik does that thing where he'll pull you in with one arm around your shoulder and one on the side of your head, and shake you gently. He'll make a little "rah" sound, it's a whole thing. Sometimes he's just over-whelmed with the urge to do that.
⎯ Shao Kahn
Sometimes, whenever Shao passes by you, he'll take you by your hand, and spin you. He'll chuckle and go back to what he was doing. But sometimes, it turns into full blown dancing.
⎯ Shang Tsung
Shang loves passing winks to you. He'll do it when he's too busy, he doesn't even use it to imply something. He'll do that super corny thing where he over-exaggerates his face and winks at you a LOT.
⎯ Reiko
Whether Reiko's just sparring, or in a genuine match, he'll always dedicate it to you. Even if you're not there. He'll whisper something for you under his breath, then beat the shit out of his opponent. He also loves bragging about his achievements to you. Only you. A soldier MUST have some humility.
⎯ Takeda Takahashi
Takeda loves saying your name in a real stupid sing-song voice. Dragging it out, horribly, in such a cheesy manor. He'll bring his voice up all high pitch and even bring his hands up to his face.
⎯ Erron Black
As much as Erron tries to be smooth with it, he kinda fails at hiding the fact that he's doing this for you. He exaggerates his accent, he'll quote all sorts of westerns, and just play reaaaaal hard into the Cowboy part for you.
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© freyito, 2023 | masterlist | queue | kofi DO NOT REPOST AS YOUR OWN OR USE FOR AI/AI CHATBOTS.
1K notes · View notes
delulujuls · 5 months
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navy fury | mv33
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im a redbull stan and max's girlie till i die (but my heart is papaya shaped) so please enjoy this one as well!
summary: max is struggling with asking for help, reader is trying her best to let him know that she always got his back
warnings: negative emotions, angst, max struggling with his demons, jos verstappen (he is the biggest warning lol)
pairing: max verstappen x fem!mclarendriver
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Max would often get angry.
More often than he would like it to be. More often than he would want a consuming wave of anger to wash over him, for fury to engulf him and inject its burning venom into his veins. He would get angry over trivial things, get angry over bigger issues either. Anger would truly eat him up every time something didn't go as planned.
However, he tried to fight with his anger and negative emotions at all costs. Instead of processing them, letting go and moving on, he would bottle them up, allowing them to fester and poison his entire being. He preferred to get angry in solitude, where he knew nothing wrong would happen and even if it did, he would be the only one harmed.
Unfortunately, Max found a kind of satisfaction and comfort in hurting others. Emotions dissipated much faster when he could engage in an argument with someone rather than sitting in silence with only his own screams shattering his head.
If Max could have any control over himself and his emotions, he would unplug the anger outburst responsible for explosions of anger like this one.
He didn't hear the insults that left his mouth, didn't hear Christian's shouts telling him to calm down. He didn't feel the strong arms of the mechanics holding him back and pulling him away from Lance Stroll, who sat on the ground with a bleeding nose. In moments like this, Max was guided by nothing but emotions, desperately trying to find any way out.
In moments like this Max knew that to feel relief he had to destroy something. It didn't matter if it was a glass, his shattered fists or the bleeding nose of that Aston Martin dickhead who ruined his entire race.
Many people in his immediate surroundings distinguished the Dutchman before the anger storm and after it. Before it was Max, after it, there was only Verstappen.
Just as Max was the friendly, smiling guy who joyfully congratulated his rivals, willingly gave interviews and joked with team members, Verstappen was a walking hailstorm from which lightning could strike at any moment.
"Fucking idiot."
He growled one last time and walked deeper into the garage, where everyone he encountered averted their gaze and moved out of his way. It was always best to simply get out of Max's way and let him cool down. But no one knew that the fire of anger was just beginning to burn and the epicenter was yet to come.
"What the hell was that, Max?"
Cold water. The hiss of an extinguished fire.
He felt a tightness in his chest upon hearing his father's voice. Jos Verstappen was the only person who could instantly turn his anger into pure, filtered fear.
Max unzipped his racing suit, unable to look his father in the face. He didn't even know what to say. What was there to say either, he had just let his father down. Not for the first time though.
"I asked you a question."
His father's cold, gruff tone cut Max to the core and once again, Max was six years old, stuttering as he explained to his dad why he crashed his go-kart into his friend's. Apologizing and making excuses, saying it wasn't his fault that another seven-year-old cut him off. In his eyes, Max wasn't a grown man with an amazing track record, he was just a brat who needed discipline because he made idiotic mistakes.
His father was about to thunder over him again when the whole stormy situation was suddenly illuminated by a ray of sunshine. Quite literally, as it was Y/N still dressed in her bright McLaren suit, who upon hearing about the commotion in the Aston Martin garage hastily went out to found her friend.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Verstappen, but Max is needed in the studio," she said quickly, grabbing Max's hand "Come on, Max, we need to go."
"We'll come back to this conversation."
His father mumbled under his breath, watching them go.
The girl squeezed her friend's hand tighter and started pulling him in the opposite direction, wanting to get him away from his father as quickly as possible.
"I'm not in the mood for interviews."
"There's no interview; I had to come up with something quickly to get you out of there."
Max stopped, causing Y/N to be pulled back as well. Surprised by his sudden decision, she turned to him with a questioning expression.
"I want to be alone right now, without anyone."
He let go of her hand but she still stubbornly held onto his fingers.
"We both know you don't want to be alone."
Max shook his head in denial. The last thing he wanted was to be in her company right now. He knew that when the commotion and the crowd disappeared, all the emotions would flood over him like a toxic wave.
"You don't understand."
"Yes, I don't understand because you don't give me the chance."
The girl approached him, their bodies only a few inches apart.
"Everything is fine between us only when you're in a good mood. We are really close, we spend time together and we are acting like actual friends. But as soon as something doesn't go your way and your behavior changes, you build a thick wall between us." Y/N looked into his eyes, shaking her head. "Friends don't do that, Max."
"That's what the best friends do," he replied, looking into her eyes. As they were always in the colour of the clear sky, in that moment they were having a storm inside. "The best friends won't drown you in the shit that's swirling through their lives, they won't drag you into their inner conflicts. The best friends won't be a burden to you, you know why? Because they'll just spare you that!"
Y/N embraced him without a word. She hugged him with such force that someone would need chains to pull her away. She had no intention of leaving Max's side, no matter what he was struggling with. She wanted to help him, to be his support and to be the light in his darkest nights. She had no intention of letting him continue to deceive himself with assurances that everything was always perfect. Because life never looks that way.
Adult Max didn't return her embrace, knowing that it was for the best. Adult Max closed his eyes and tilted his head, not wanting to let a single tear escape. He hoped that by remaining distant, by hurting the girl with his indifference, she would let go of him. But Little Max didn't want to make her sad; he wanted to hug his friend and not let her go until everything will be okay again.
"I won't leave you with this, Maxie. If you like it or not."
Maxie.
Lighter.
Explosion.
He exploded in tears without any warning. He sank to his knees and tightly embraced his friend, burying his face in her stomach. Y/N stroked his hair, holding him close. She didn't try to calm him, knowing full well that he just needed to cry. He needed to let out all the sadness, anger, and bitterness that had accumulated in his veins and poisoned him for years.
When the girl kissed his wet cheek, she could swear that it left a bitter taste on her lips.
And it was exactly the venom finally letting him go.
669 notes · View notes
norrisleclercf1 · 7 months
Note
Could you do one where Elijah gets food poisoning or something during a race weekend and tries to push through anyway and they comfort him
Everyone gets Sick
Pairing: Lando Norris x Reader x Charles Leclerc
Elijah is 18, Cecile is 14. Elijah is in his first season in F2
A/N: Also felt like making this only Lando and Elijah. Just a little insight into their relationship, also I can’t find a face claim I like for Elijah, so if anyone has recommendations for blonde male face claims that’ll help a lot .
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"You good kid?" Elijah groans, raising his head slightly from between his legs. "Yeah, I'm good." Elijah looks up at his engineer. "You sure?" He questions, Elijah was pale. Not the pale where it's normal but the kind that he looked ready to pass out.
"Yes, just...ugh." Elijah feels that burn and muscles clamping all over his body as he swallows, trying hard not to vomit. "Elijah, listen if you can't race no one is going to fault you." His engineer Paul whispers. "No, I have to race." Gasping, as he sucks in the humid air of Monza.
"Damn kid." Paul curses, walking off as the boy tries hard to control his stomach. "You look like shit." Glaring at his younger sister she smiles handing him a water bottle.
"Where's Dad?" Elijah whispers, just craving him. "Media Duties. Want me to get him?" He shakes his head no, at 18 Elijah wasn't sure what he really wanted. "You're sick." "Thank you captian obvious." Elijah growls, his stomach curling this time he's not able to stop it.
Moving quick, he grabs the small bucket and coughs loudly as his sister cringes patting his back. "So gross." Cecile groans trying hard to not turn around. Spitting, Elijah grabs his bottle and takes a sip swirling it around before spitting.
"Don't," Elijah gasps pushing his blonde hair back, "Tell anyone." "That's stupid, you're sick. I'm telling." Standing she goes to get either her dads of Mama, but when a large hand slaps down on her arm she stops. "Please, don't. I need these points Cece. I'm so close." She groans, rolling her head as she tries to do the right thing.
"Eli, you could crash! What would you do if you need to vomit? You can't. I'm getting Dad." Elijah groans, hand slipping as Cece takes off.
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"I couldn't be prouder of my son. His first season in F2 and he's second in the title fight is a wonderful thing, I wish," "Dad! Dad! Daddy!" Lando stops talking, whipping around to see Cecile pushing through the media. "Excuse me." Lando rushes off, meeting her halfway.
"Baby? What's wrong?" Lando worries, looking over his daughter as she gasps for air. "It's," She takes another deep breath, "Woah, that was a run. I didn't know it would be that far," She rambles Lando confused. "Cecile, what's wrong?" He's trying to stay calm, but it's not easy when your 14-year-old daughter comes screaming.
"Oh, it's Eli. He's," Lando doesn't wait as he bolts off heading towards Elijah's garage. "Oh god, more running." Cecile whines running after her Dad.
"Elijah? Elijah? Ducky!" "I'm here Dad." He groans, Lando skidding to a stop as he kneels down before his son. "And don't call me Ducky." He gasps as he turns, throwing up. Lando cringes still hating anything to do with throwing up. But this is his son and he's sick. His childish aversion would have to be put to rest.
"Oh, Ducky." Lando whispers grabbing a cold water and pouring it over a towel before wringing it out, laying it on his neck. "I hate this." Elijah gasps, tears slipping down. "It's food poisoning. We told you not to eat that burger. You said it tasted weird, should've stopped." Lando scolds, but it holds no heat sitting next to his son.
"Dad?" "Yeah Ducky?" Elijah scoots closer, placing his head on Lando's shoulder. "I don't think I can race. I'm sorry." His throat grows tights, except this time it due to the tears. "Why are you sorry? You can't help it." Lando laughs, pulling Elijah in, resting his chin on top of his son's head.
"You're always so proud of me. Pa and you always raced even when you're sick. I should be able to do that too, but I can't." He whispers. Lando sighs, wrapping his arms tighter around his little boy. "Everyone gets sick, Elijah. I rather you not race then race and get in a crash. I'm proud of you no matter what, you're my little Ducky." Lando kisses Elijah's forehead, Elijah closing his eyes as he leans more into Lando.
Even though he's grown, it's moments like these that Lando craves for them to be younger, smaller. They always wanted him when they were sick, but to know that his little boy who's a man now still wanted him, healed a small crack in his heart.
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taglist: @andydrysdalerogers @kellzsthings @christianpulisic10
@tagteamedbitch @changetyre @minamisulemisa @dancingrox
@idontknowwhyimherelov @ariyancoffe @abcheksl @utdmount
@mysticstudentbagelhairdo @talishein @champomiel @champagnesprays @anya7802 @sebbybucky12
@reality-is-a-con @hollie911 @flowerhowellsworld @myheartgoesvroom
@nora-moon @nowimyurdaisy @linejoergensen92-blog @xeliaaa @mcmuppet @ryiamarie
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himbofan4444 · 4 months
Text
“Another day…” I say to myself as I walk through the parking garage. The is air still damp from the rainstorm yesterday. I look around. The garage is oddly vacant. Perhaps I’d come in when the buildings closed again. Determined to finish the day and get home quickly, I trudge past the puddles and cigarette butts. “God it’s freezing,” I say to myself, shivering.
I look around again. I’m used to a long walk to the stairs but today’s feels… really long. I can’t see my car but that’s all thanks to the thick fog that has been settled in town for a few days. I can’t see the stairwell either. The only thing I can see is the fog surrounding me. I sigh and continue my trek forwards, unsure if I’m even moving forwards anymore.
After a few more minutes of walking, I stumble upon an odd sight. In front of me is a shopping booth, something I’ve never seen the liking of before here. A faint concoction of aromas reach my nose: a strange mix of perfume, wood, leather, and some other implacable scents. At the booth stands a broad man. On the table, there are a variety of brightly colored liquids contained in erlenmeyer flasks. The man waves me over, a toothy grin across his dark, bearded face.
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“Well hello there fine fellow! How can I help ya?” the man asks. His voice is gravelly and deep, the kind of voice that makes you weak in the knees.
“Oh, I’m not interested in buying anything, sir. I’m just trying to find the stairs,” I respond.
The man lets out a hearty laugh, “Please, call me Rohan! And I insist. I’ll even give you a hefty discount.”
I eye the flasks, taking in the colorful liquids. Each is bubbling and emanates an odd warmth, much preferable over the freezing air of the rest of the parking garage. “So, what are they?” I ask.
“Oh, just some herbal remedies. They’re very common in holistic medicine,” Rohan says, lifting up to of the flasks. “Would you like one, sir?”
“Oh I’m not sure if I should. I’ve tried these things before and they haven’t… agreed with me,” I say, letting out a small chuckle.
“Don’t you worry about that, sir. These are all natural. I insist, try one. Here,” Rohan picks up a pink one and holds it out for me. I reluctantly grab it and give him a half-smile. “That’ll be $5, sir,” Rohan says as he holds out his large palm. I search through my wallet and find a crumpled up $5 bill and hand it to him. He smiles and says with a certain satisfaction, “Have a lovely day, sir!”
I walk off with the flask in hand, still unsure of where the stairs are. I check my phone for the time. Shit! I’m late! I briskly walk through the parking garage but to no avail. I’m still lost. At least until I see my car. Damnit! I just walked in a big circle! Exhausted and angry, I get in my car and sit down. The car is almost as cold as outside, a small remnant of the heating still present. I start the car, deciding to head home.
Before I can put my foot on the gas pedal, my gaze drifts down to the flask in the passenger’s seat. “I should probably drink that…” I say to myself. I reach down and grab it, bringing the beverage to my lips. It smells like perfume. I lift the flask, the contents of which pouring into my mouth and down my throat. It’s almost unbearably sweet. So much so that it’s almost bitter. There’s also a strange salty aftertaste. I cough and drink from my water bottle, the flavor lingering in my mouth.
I drive home in silence, allowing myself to be bitter about today’s events as of now. As I drive home, I notice an odd, unfamiliar tingling in my butt. I itch it but it doesn’t help. “Maybe I just worked legs a little too hard yesterday,” I say with a shrug. Soon, my whole body feels tingly, almost numb. My work clothes begin to feel a bit tight on my body, specifically my pants. I’m sure I grabbed the larger size I have but maybe I didn’t. This morning was quite hectic after all. I shrug off the odd occurrence and continue my drive home.
On the way home, I pass a Starbucks and turn into the parking lot. I usually don’t buy such frivolous things, but I’d already bought that horrible drink so why not? As I walk inside, I notice a strange quality to my walking. Usually I have a quite confident strut but that has been replaced by something almost like a waddle. Odd.
Once inside, I’m finally warm. The warmth of the store is so refreshing. Before ordering, I sit at a table by the window. Sitting here feels weird. I’m not used to this amount of cushioning on these chairs but maybe I misjudged them. I take off my winter coat, setting it on the high top table in front of me. I catch a glimpse of my arms in my tight dress shirt sleeves. Jesus! I’ve always been in shape but I’ve NEVER been this big. I flex a small bit, blushing at my public flexing session. Damn, the gym’s been doing me good recently.
A short blonde barista walks over to me. She’s very cute but my still bitter attitude puts a damper on my lustful looks. She pulls out a notepad and a pencil, “Would you like anything sir?”
“Oh no-“ I clear my throat. My voice sounds less deep than normal for some reason. “I mean, sure. Could I have a vanilla latte?” Why did I order that? I always order black coffee, never that girl shit. The barista smiles and nods, writing my order down, “Got it. Is that all?”
“Yes ma’am,” I respond. Handing her the money for the beverage.
She walks off, immediately going to make my drink. I rub my throat. Why do I still sound so weird? She comes back over, my drink in hand. “Here you go sir,” she says, “Oh and by the way, I love your hair. Blonde is so your color. You look fabulous.” She walks away to serve other customers.
What? Blonde? I’m not blonde. I’ve always had brown hair. And… fabulous? Who does she think I am? One of those queers? Does my hair really look blonde to her? I pull out my phone and look at myself in the selfie camera. Jesus! My hair IS blonde! And it looks… curly. What the hell happened?! And my face… It looks off. Something is uncanny about it. I look like myself but also not… Like my lips look bigger and so do my eyes. My eyebrows look a bit neater than they should and my stubble is shorter than normal.
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I get down from the stool, ready to leave and deal with this weird stuff at home. As I walk out, I feel a strange jiggling in my rear. I crane my neck around my shoulder to see what was going on with my butt. Holy shit! My ass is huge! I run out to my car, my big fat ass jiggling like crazy as I run. I quickly drive home.
Once inside, I strip off my damp clothes to assess the damage. My muscles do look bigger than normal, especially my pecs. They look like fucking tits. Jesus, they’re huge. My ass is enormous, any movement causing it to jiggle wildly. And that tingling in my ass still hasn’t gone away. I look like a poster fag. Like the dictionary definition of a faggot. Fuck…
I go up to my room and find a cardboard box on my bed. After opening it, I see a huge pink dildo and a pink jockstrap, both the same color as the drink. The dildo is easily a foot long. I shiver in disgust looking at the items. An odd feeling comes from my ass. My ass is tingling worse than before, specifically directly in my asshole. God I just wanna shove that dildo up my ass… No! I can’t be thinking like a fag! Looking like one is bad enough!
I shove the grotesque items back into the box and chuck the box across the room. I look at myself in the mirror, hesitantly touching my pouty lips. They feel almost numb, as if they aren’t real. Come to think of it… I feel my pecs and my ass, both having the same numb tingling. Oh my god…
My body stiffens up, my back arched, showing off my large muscle tits and fake fuckable ass. Goddamn why am I thinking like that? Against my will, my buff arms reach up and turn my baseball cap, which had gone from a cream color to a black and pink one, backwards. It’s like a switch got flipped. My brain goes from active and agile to slow and dull. MY thoughts become more lustful and… gay.
Damn, I wish Rohan fucked me earlier. He like totally has a huge dick. I pout, crossing my arms across my inflated chest. My heads turns, facing the discarded box. My body prances over to the box and extracts the faggy… I mean sexy things. I pull the pink jockstrap over my big round ass, doing a few hops to see my bubble butt bounce in the elastic material. I snatch up the massive dildo and lay in my bed, my thick beefy legs spread out. My body instinctively shoves the dildo as far up my ass as it can.
My hole feels oddly loose despite the lack of penetration it’s received. My brain pushes those thoughts into the garbage, conjuring up new memories of me being fucked by hoards of men, each hung like a horse and concerningly aggressive. I let out shrill, feminine moans with each thrust of the toy. Each thrust causes my room and house to become more pink and slutty looking. My wardrobe emptying of my work clothes and instead having pink slutty outfits. My bed begins vibrating, my old bed replaced with a vibrating one.
I cum out of my shrunken cock, my small load leaving me gasping for air. I’ve never felt this much pleasure in my whole life! I sit on my knees in front of the full length mirror in my room and take a picture for my Daddies.
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This is me now, a stupid, horny, bouncy slut for any man who’ll take me in for the night.
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horrorartsworld · 2 months
Note
Alastor helping lover with addiction,such as smoking and drinking?
thank you lovely nonnie for this prompt!! ♡
this is a very heavy topic to write about so going forward i hope this doesn’t trigger anyone in anyway as to i’m kind of new when it comes to writing about something as serious as addiction and drugs. so sorry if this is confusing at all or cheesy! as it is also my number one priority to satisfy my babies and not to scare you in anyway so please be mindful of the warnings!!
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an angel with clipped wings
alastor/recovering addict f!reader
warnings: drug and alcohol abuse, mentions of drugs, addiction, angst, with a big fluffy ending and caring alastor
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Ever since you were alive you never were the best at keeping away from the hard stuff.
It was always magnetized to you, though you’d never turn down an offer if made.
Which is why you now reside in Hell.
Though you were lucky to stumble upon the Hazbin Hotel, a residence for rehabilitation of sinners and you were all for it!
Meeting many friends and even your lover, but that temptation in the back of your mind never stopped calling.
Every time you’d stand next to Husk’s bar or when Angel brought up old drug dealers he knew, and you’d always have that little voice in the back of your mind telling you to pursue your old ways.
And one day you did. Hitting up the man Angel had suggested during one of his stories and getting just what you needed. Heroin, Ecstasy, Coke, whatever you could manage. Along with some booze from Husk’s bar.
You smuggle it all to your shared bedroom where you started inhaling the coke off a magazine then downed the feeling down with some whiskey before hitting something else and then doing it again in a repeat cycle till you laid back and watched as the ceiling above you started to spin until you blacked out completely.
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“Darling are you here?” Alastor came to check on you since it had been a while since you came down and mingled with everyone. Flicking on the light as his heart instantly sank.
“Mon cher-“ the static in his voice seems to run cold as he sees you crumpled up on the floor amongst bottles and different kinds of drugs.
His hands twitching as his microphone falls to the floor, he flashes over within an instant to your body picking up all your pieces as he delicately runs his hand along your pale colored cheek.
You blink slowly up at him, mouth dry as your head was still spinning from it all, your body numb.
“What have you done?” He whispers softly now feeling your forehead as you started to burn up as you seemed to be coming down.
As you struggled to not slosh your words or try not to throw up, he didn’t bother waiting for your explanation as he scooped you up bringing you to the bathroom and setting you down on the toilet as he started to run a bath for you.
He then walks out of the bathroom as the water pours into the tub the sound of it seemed to sooth you as you struggled to keep your head up straight attempting to rest it against the counter next to the toilet.
Alastor had taken off his coat rolling up his sleeves as he discarded any bottles or remnants of drugs in the room and having one of his shadows take it far away from the hotel as possible. Though he couldn’t help as he looked down at an old whiskey bottle amongst his foot on the floor that was one of his favorites when he was living seeing as there was a few remains he took a sip and threw the rest away before running a hand through his hair. If he wasn’t smiling all the time right now he’d have the look of both defeat and sadness as he hated seeing you like this and he loved you too much to let you continue this route you were on.
He walks back into the bathroom seeing as you had your eyes closed resting your head against the counter. Quickly turning the water off so i wouldn’t overflow and then lightly caressing your face.
“Darling..the bath is ready for you~” He mutters softly hoping you’d at least wake up.
Your eyes hazy as you blink softly at him. His lips giving a soft kiss to your forehead before he spoke once more, “Can you get in the bath for me?”
Nodding slowly so you didn’t start the dizzy spells again he motions for you to lift your arms as he started to undress you.
Once he fully undressed you he set you down gently into it, the warm water enveloping your legs in its comfort as you wadded in it. Alastor sitting on the edge as he watched you lay back and relax. He went to get up but a slosh from the bath and your delicate grip on his wrist stopped him dead in his tracks. “P-please don’t leave me…”
Alastor never left your side for the rest of that night and the ones after that as he wanted to make sure you were okay and that you were never alone.
You rest your head against his chest as he started to hum a soft tune as he held you.
“Thank you Alastor” you muster out softly looking up at him to show him your sincerity.
“Oh? whatever for my dear?” his tone hushed along with yours as the static was humming in his voice as he spoke.
“For saving me…i don’t know what i would do without you.” tears starting to form in your eyes making Alastor sit up a little as his thumb tries to catch them before they fall.
“My love i’d save you a thousand times, but you have to promise me you’ll never give me a scare like that again…”
“I-I promise, i-i’ll never do that again~” your voice shaky as you try not to sob, Alastor pulls you closer as you then completely combust into tears, placing you right on his lap curled up in a ball as he softly shushes you while rubbing your back till you finally fall asleep in his arms. “I know you won’t my dear, I know you won’t~”
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runningfrom2am · 1 month
Text
cold nights // twenty-two
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summary: you showed him colours he knows he can't see with anyone else.
pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader
wc: 3.8k
masterlists / nav / requests
tags/warnings: tribute!reader and mentor!coriolanus, r is very sweet (too kind for this world. literally.), sunshine x grumpy trope kinda, he falls first, violence typical for the source material, depictions of mental illness, also she's is very smart (as she should), district twelve!reader.
a/n: this is the last part of s2!! ahh i am so excited for s3 and i hope you guys too after this part :)
my asks are also open to talk about this series! (i do have emoji anons open now too!)
send me any and all of your thoughts! here!
series masterlist // playlist
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When you come to, the air is cold on your skin and it's mostly dark. You groan, feeling the sway of someone carrying you very quickly.
"Hey, love. Hey..." Coryo says, noticing you stirring in his arms. "We're almost home. Hold on, I'm gonna get you some water."
"O-okay..." You agree, reaching up to rub your eyes so you can better see where you are. It's still nighttime, and you're outside. Looking up, the stars have filled the clear sky.
Coryo looks down at you, and then up. "The stars are beautiful. You were right." He tells you and you smile.
"I know." You whisper. "I'm glad you got to see them."
"Me too."
You almost fell asleep in his arms on the way back to their house. You didn't ask why they didn't take you home- part of you didn't want to know. Every time you caught yourself trying to piece together what happened before you fainted, your heart rate increased again. It wasn't good- that was all you knew.
Sejanus opens the door and Coryo is quick to lay you in his bed, kissing you on the forehead and giving you a bottle of water before quickly leaving. You can hear him and Sejanus talking, but you can't make out what they're saying. It sounds like Sejanus is crying.
You want to get up and help, but you are just so tired. You end up falling asleep.
Coryo didn't sleep at all all night. He tried after getting Sejanus to finally go to bed he came and laid with you, but it was no use. What would they do with you? They couldn't just leave you here- whatever history you and Cole had would no doubt come to light very critically in the fallout of his death. He didn't know if anyone had seen you go in or seen you there that night. After the games, it would be so easy to point the finger at you and call you dangerous and insane.
The bottom line of his decision: he couldn't leave you behind in Twelve.
He had a tentative plan, and you didn't have much of a choice if you wanted to live, but the hard part would be convincing you to come back to the Capitol. Well, convincing your whole family to let you come back to the Capitol.
He waited as long as he could before he had to wake you up, getting up and packing all his things while Sejanus did the same. You looked so peaceful, so untouched by everything horrible that has happened to you in your short life. You didn't know he was about to ruin your life again.
Carefully, when he knew you didn't have another moment more to spare, he sat down on the edge of the bed next to you. "Y/N/N?" He whispers, placing a hand on your shoulder. "Love, you have to wake up. I'm sorry."
You hum in your sleep, rolling onto your back. Your eyes open, only slightly, and you smile. "Hi..." You mumble, trying to untangle your hands from the sheets to rub your eyes.
"Morning..." Coryo smiles slightly. You're so beautiful. It's almost easier for him to just scoop you up and bring you with him just like that- sleepy and untroubled. How he ever imagined leaving without you by his side he didn't know.
"What time is it?" You ask, voice raspy from having just woken up.
"Just past three, but we need to get moving. I'm so sorry, love."
You push yourself up, still rubbing at your eyes. "What? It's so early. What's going on?"
Coryo sighs, running a hand over his jaw. "Let's... Let's get you something to eat and then I'll explain, okay?"
You nod, yawning and he stands as you throw your legs over the side of the bed.
"Oh- oh my god." You mumble, quickly standing up from the old chair at their dining table. Coryo and Sejanus look at each other nervously.
"I didn't know that would happen, I didn't even know they were using the money to buy guns." Sejanus defends himself and you nod, hands placed over your face.
"I know." You reply, voice muffled by your hands. "I just... oh my god. I thought it was a nightmare. I thought I was just having another nightmare I-"
"I know, but it's okay. You're gonna be okay."
"His sword, death's stamp, where it did mark, it took. From face to foot he was a thing of blood, whose every motion was timed with dying cries..." You mumble to yourself, pacing now. "Deaths stamp. The reckoning."
Sejanus looks at his friend as you ramble, eyes wide.
"Y/N?" Coryo tries to grab your attention, but with how quickly you were clearly spiraling he didn't want to touch you. "None of what happened was your fault or ours. There is nothing we could have done."
"I know, I know, I know but I can't stop it either everything is falling apart and I am killing everyone and who is next?"
"No, hey, you didn't kill anyone. No one is next." He assures you quickly. "They can't charge anyone if they can't find the guns, no one can prove we were even there. We just have to act as if nothing happened."
You nod, shaking out your hands and trying to breathe. "Okay, yes. Yes." You press your hands onto your chest, clocking your heart rate. A panic attack wouldn't help. "I am having a panic attack." You state, looking toward the two of them.
Sejanus doesn't say anything, but looks quickly between you and Coryo.
"I know, love." Coryo replies. "But you're going to be okay. We're safe here, but we need to get moving so we have to relax. Okay?"
You take a deep breath in through your nose, closing your eyes. Everything is okay. You can't panic now, it will only make everything worse.
"I'm calm. I'm calm." You tell yourself, but it isn't working. Coryo chews his cheek. He still hasn't even told you that you'll need to come with them.
"What was that joke you told me? From that book?" Coryo asks, trying to distract you. "I think Sejanus would like it, would you mind telling him?"
"'I can see he is not in your good books' The messenger said," You recite mechanically. "No, and if he were I would burn my library.'" You furrow your brow, shaking your head. "No, that wasn't it. It was the one about Benedick and his horse."
"Yes, the horse." Coryo chuckles, trying to help you down. "Although, that is funny too."
"Okay, okay." You nod, taking another big gulping breath. "In our last conflict four of his five wits went halting off, and now is the whole man governed with one: so that if he have wit enough to keep himself warm, let him bear it for a difference between himself and his horse; for it is all the wealth that he hath left, to be known a reasonable creature."
You finish, and Coryo smacks Sejanus's arm when all he does is give you a confused look, trying to track what is meant to be a joke.
Sejanus looks at him and Coryo nods toward you. "Oh! That... yes, that's very funny." Sejanus chuckles nervously.
"She's saying that you can't tell him from his horse because he's just about as smart as it." You explain, knowing he wouldn't have understood. "Well, he would be if she didn't let him keep one of his wits."
And just like that, you're breathing almost normally.
"Feeling better?" Coryo asks, approaching you carefully.
You swallow and nod. "Yes. Thank you." He takes your hand in his, gently rubbing the back of it under his thumb.
"Okay, now, this is the hard part."
You had agreed through tears. The idea of even setting foot in the Capitol again almost set you off, but you made it through. You knew it would be hard, terrifying even, but you would have Coryo, and that would help.
The three of you made your way back to your house in the dark, preparing for you to pack up your whole life in order to move in a matter of hours.
You sneak inside, closing the door quietly behind the three of you.
"Just wait in the living room." You whisper. "I'll start packing."
"Y/N, honey, is that you?" Your dad's voice shocks you, and your eyes shoot over to the clock. He hadn't yet left for work.
"Pa?" You walk into the living room where he is sitting, having his morning coffee.
"What were you doing out so late? Did you have fun?" He asks, and then his eyes go past you to the boys. "Oh, hello. Can't say we were expectin' company this early. Or late, I suppose, for you guys."
Your lip starts to quiver as you walk over to the couch. "What's wrong?" Your dad frowns, eyes back on you now as he puts his coffee down quickly, reaching out to rub your arms. "Did something happen?" He looks over to the boys, but they don't dare move.
"Pa..." You cry, sitting down next to him and he pulls you into a hug.
"Honey, what happened?" He frowns, holding you close. You wouldn't see him for so long, and it was breaking your heart.
"I..." You sniff, quickly running over your agreed story. "I'm leaving."
"Leaving? You don't need to go, you're safe here, Honey..."
You look up at him, trying to smile. "Can you get Ma? I need to talk to you both." You say, chin still wobbling with tears.
"Okay, stay right here. I'll get her." He promises, getting up and patting your head.
"Can... can you guys wait outside?" You whisper and both Coryo and Sejanus quickly nod, passing you to wait out back.
"What's happening, Y/N/N?" Your mom asks, brow furrowed as she pulls her housecoat tight around herself. "Are you okay?"
You nod, swallowing as you refresh yourself on the story you came up with. Your parents sit down, all eyes on you. "I..." You start, but you can't get it out without a sob. "I have to go back to the Capitol."
"What?" Your dad asks, brow furrowed as your mom already begins to cry. "They can't take you back, you won. Fair and square, you're home now."
"They aren't." You shake your head. "Coryo helped me apply to the university there and I was accepted. Our train leaves in a few hours."
Both your parents stare at you, absolutely in shock.
"I... What?" Your father asks again and you nod.
"Yes." You laugh slightly.
"But... You can't go, where will you stay? We can't afford any kind of school or even the food there." Your father shakes his head. "I'm sorry, I know you're happy and this is amazing but... that just won't work."
You shake your head again. "No, we thought of that. I'll stay with Coryo, and he will cover my tuition." This wasn't a lie, that's how he talked you into it, in fact- though you hadn't wanted to accept.
"Look, it won't be all bad. You can come to school with us, get an education. It'll be so good for you and your family." Coryo says, holding your hands between his own. "You can stay with me, I'll pay for everything with money from the prize. You gave it to me, anyways. I owe you that much."
"I can't take that from you... I can't leave them."
"I owe it to you, love. Besides, it's not forever." He promises. "You can come visit, and we'll pay for them to get a phone installed so you can call whenever you'd like. They even have these really nice ones with cameras, we'll get you one of those."
"The school won't take me, I don't have a Capitol degree." You sniff.
"Of course they will- everyone there loves you. They know how smart you are. You'll just have to do some testing first, and then you can major in whatever you like. Even literature."
"I can?"
"Of course you can. Whatever you want to do, anything in the world."
"What are you taking?" You ask, wiping your eyes.
"Political Science."  He answers. "But you could do... art history, creative writing, journalism, anything you want, love. Hell, you could even take mathematics if that's what you want." Coryo smiles, squeezing your hands. "You'll change your family's lives, and we can be together."
"Oh, honey..." Your mother cries, pulling you into her arms.
"He said we'll get you a phone, a nice one with a camera and I can call every day." You tell them through your tears, hugging her back. "And then I'll come back for you, with my shiny new education and neither of you will ever have to work again if you don't want to."
"I... I don't know what to say." Your father admits.
You laugh slightly, leaning into your mother's arms. "I don't either... I don't know."
You laughed and cried together, but you knew you couldn't tell them why you really had to leave on such short notice. They had to be happy for you to let you go without fear. Knowing anything about the truth would put their lives at risk. You cried harder when your father had to leave for work not long later; it would be a long time before you would see him again.
"Well." Your mom takes a deep breath in after a few minutes of your father being gone. "We better get you packed." She pushes herself up, and you join her.
"Ma." You stop her as she goes to make her way to the kitchen, no doubt to put on some tea for the process.
She turns, looking at you expectantly with reddened eyes.
"Lennox is going to hate me, isn't he?"
She frowns, pulling you into another hug. "No, honey. Never." She shushes you. "He may not like it at first, but he loves you so much. He could never hate you."
"You promise?"
"Of course, honey. Don't you think on it for even a minute. He'll miss you, but we'll be waitin' on you to come home. We'll be right here." She assures you. "And we are so proud. Don't worry about us, okay?"
"Parting is such sweet sorrow." You sniff, laughing slightly against her shoulder.
"This time, it is." She chuckles. "Now, let those boys back in and we can get moving. We don't want you to miss that train."
Somehow, you managed to pack everything up without waking your brother. You don't know if that was a good thing or not.
The sun began to rise as you made your way to the train station. Sejanus hadn't said a word since you left their temporary home.
"Y/N." Coryo whispers, and you look up at him. He's carrying one of your bags along with his, while you focus on the makeshift carrier in your arms that contains your cat. "When we get up there, let me do the talking."
You just nod, swallowing back another wave of tears. The guilt you felt was immeasurable, especially now that you allowed yourself to be excited. What if you did get into their school? Your whole life was about to change, but this time, hopefully for the better. But if it was all because of the deaths of three more District kids, how dare you think it may be worth it. Even if Mayfair was vile and Billy Taupe had an insatiable habit of cheating on Lucy Gray.
Lucy Gray. You didn't even say goodbye to Lucy Gray.
She wouldn't handle his death well, you knew that. You would have to write her immediately. Maybe that's what you would do on the train.
You would miss her greatly, but she would understand. Same as your parents, she would be proud. And you'd tell her about their phone and you could call her anytime you wanted as well. It would all be okay.
The train was heavily guarded by peacekeepers- though it was likely less so than usual. All the others were probably out already searching for the guns that killed the Mayor's daughter as well as a peacekeeper. It was unlikely they cared about Billy Taupe. You wish you could have warned your family that peacekeepers may come knocking, but the less they knew the better.
When you see Lucy Gray standing back against the building, looking out seemingly for the boys, your heart feels heavier in your chest. You don't say anything to them before you run up to her. You call her name and she turns, smiling at you.
"Hi, Hun. I wanted you to come say goodbye with me but I couldn't find ya last night, you weren't home when I came by after the show or this morning. I was worried."
"Oh, sorry. I slept over at theirs." You nod back to the boys as they approach behind you.
She smiles, but something in it is sad. Her eyes are puffy, clearly she had been crying. It was about Billy Taupe, no doubt.
"Y/N, I got something to tell you." She says quietly, and you tilt your head at her. "Last night..." Her eyes well up with tears again. "Last night Billy Taupe was murdered. He was shot, at the Hob. And Cole was too. I'm so sorry."
Coryo just catches the tail end of it, stepping in next to you and carefully watching your reaction. Or, what you thought your reaction was supposed to be.
You're quickly handing your bag off to Coryo and pulling her into your arms. "Oh- I'm so sorry, Lucy Gray... I'm so sorry."
Coryo and Sejanus look at each other as she cries in your arms.
"I was mad at him... I was so mad at him and I never got to say that I'm sorry."
"I know... God, honey I'm so sorry." You rub her back as you speak, focussing purely on comforting her. You had been close with him too. You don't know if Lennox knows yet, but you know he will be devastated. Just because Billy Taupe was an awful boyfriend to her at times didn't mean he wasn't still like family. "Don't beat yourself up about it, okay? It's not your fault. He knows you love him, okay? He knows."
She sniffs and you can feel her nod against your shoulder. "Love is immortality." You tell her quietly, kissing the side of her head.
"Y/N." Coryo says, hating to interrupt but the train wouldn't wait for you.
"I know." You reply, nodding as you pull away and take her hands in yours. "Lucy Gray, I am so sorry but I have to go."
"Go?" She looks at the boys behind you and the bags they're holding, there are several more than what they had arrived with. "You're going with them?" Her voice breaks and you nod, swallowing back tears.
"Coryo helped me apply to the university and they accepted me. Classes start in a couple of weeks." You lie, you couldn't find it in your heart to tell her you were there when Billy Taupe was killed.
She looks confused, squeezing your hands tight. "I... why didn't you tell me?"
"I wanted to wait until we knew for sure. His cousin called last night and said the letter arrived, and it would have been so embarrassing if I didn't get in. I wish I could have told you sooner."
"You could tell me anything. You shouldn't have been embarrassed." She frowns, shaking her head. "I wish I had known- we could have had a goodbye party or something I just feel like you shouldn't be leaving just like this."
"It's okay, I don't need a party. You know that." You smile.
"I know." She sighs. "Well... I'm proud of you. I'm so proud of you. This is amazing."
"Thank you." You laugh slightly, realizing that the tears you were trying to hold back had started to fall. "I love you so much, I'll write you all every day and we're getting my house a phone so you'll be able to call too."
"Okay. We'll talk every day." Lucy Gray nods, sniffing. "I love you, Y/N." You give her another hug.
"It was so good to meet you, Lucy Gray. Thanks for everything." Coryo says as you let her go again. You take your bag back from him so he can hug her. "And I'm sorry about your friend..."
"Thank you... and of course, it was lovely to have some new faces here. I hope you'll come back sometime." She grins, wiping her eyes again as she pulls away.
When she looks at Sejanus who had been awfully quiet this whole time, you gently pull on Coryo's arm. "Let's give them a minute." You whisper and he nods, following you away. You can't look back, if you look at her again you aren't sure you'll be able to board the train at all.
"Excuse me." Coryo approaches the peacekeeper stationed by one of the train cars, pulling a slip of paper from his pocket. "My friend and I have tickets, back to The Capitol."
The peacekeeper takes it, looking it over. "You live there?"
"Yes, sir."
"Then why did you come to Twelve?"
"Oh, our friend Y/N lives here. We came to get her, she is coming back with us." He explains, flashing a charming smile as he looks back over at you.
"There's only two tickets here, and neither of them has her name on them."
"Yes, so, we were hoping she could just tag along. She won't take up much room."
"No. District personnel can't just go to the Capitol, you should know better."
"I do, yeah." Coryo nods. "But maybe you'd recognize her, that's Y/N Y/L/N, Victor of the tenth annual Hunger Games. I was her mentor. Under the circumstances we were hoping you'd make an exception- we haven't been able to call home about her ticket but they need her back there. It's a new thing, they want to do a Victory tour, some interviews- that kind of thing. They're trying lots of new stuff this year."
The peacekeeper looks past him and eyes you skeptically. You smile, giving a slight wave as Tybalt squirms in the carrier. "Good morning, officer. How are you?"
"What's in the bag?" He asks, returning his attention to Coryo and completely ignoring your question.
"See, she really wanted to bring her cat. Since the games he's been a real comfort to her, Dr. Gaul, head of the war department and head gamemaker, said that the cat wouldn't be an issue as long as he's kept inside. He'll be an indoor cat only, officer."
"No animals." He shakes his head. "She can go, but a cat isn't necessary cargo."
"Okay, well..." Coryo sighs, looking back at you. You can see the panic shift in his eyes. There was no time to take Tybalt home, and you weren't going to set him loose here. Either Tybalt comes, or neither of you do, and that was hardly an option.
"Here," Sejanus mumbles as he rejoins you, digging in his pocket and walking past you and up to them. "No cat." He hands the peacekeeper a wad of cash so thick that it makes your eyes widen.
The officer chuckles, tucking the money into his own pocket. "No cat." He agrees. "Enjoy your ride."
Coryo smiles at you and motions for you to join him, helping you up the stairs onto the train with a hand on your back while you take another last look at the city you love so deeply.
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taglist: @soulessjourney , @that-veela-girl ,  @dreamyysouls, @rockstarbfs , @maysileeewrites , @baybieruth , @kitscutie ,  @fratboyharrysgf0201 , @totallynotkaibiased , @stelleduarte , @secretsicanthideanymore , @bejeweledreverie , @drewsandsebastianswife , @niicole-87 , @queenofshinigamis , @innercreationflower , @nallasstuff , @iovemoonyy , @thatmarvelchick19 , @wearemadeofstardust0 , @regulusblackcore , @puredreamagination , @fantasticchaosthing , @becauseseaotters , @secretsicanthideanymore , @strawberryflavouredkisses
okay suddenly tumblr isn't letting me tag more people than this so i just made some cuts unfortunately :') i just left the max amount of people i could whose users i recognized and see in my notifs all the time :) if you're not on here and you should be i'm so sorry!
also this taglist is closed now!! if you’d like to get a notification when i update, turn on my post notifications!! i promise i won’t spam y'all :,)
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mitsies · 11 months
Text
thinking about high-school!gojo today.....
he’s top of his classes, a-list student, and everyone knows him. people across campus gossip about his latest romances and grades and all— he’s an open book. and a new york time’s best seller, apparently.
gojo is specifically notorious for his position as top student at your prestigious school. only the best from the best lineage, it seems. in graded discussions, he’s viciously tearing down others’ points. he disagrees with the teacher. makes jokes that make the whole class laugh. has been responsible for at least 3 faculty members’ quitting. all this, and he’s still failing art. sculpture class, to be exact.
it’s an elective both he and you have been forced into; you’re a lot happier about it than him, it seems. because he always complains. loudly. and he sucks at art, quite frankly.
it's plain to see that the boy has never even drawn a portrait in his life. he's got two right hands and he's left-handed, it looks like, that's how bad he is. and even worse is the fact that he's got no friends in this class; everyone's a stranger. which is probably why he resorts to bothering you.
you like to think you're a strong person, of mind and of being. but your resolve to being kind crumbles as soon as gojo opens his big fat mouth.
you see why people like him. he can be funny. he's good at lots of things (arts not included) and sometimes, only sometimes, does he have something valuable to say. but mostly, you find gojo satoru to be a nuisance.
working on your projects is made incredibly difficult when 6 feet of pure frustration is bitching right next to you. "this clay," he'd complain, "it's gotta be broken. it's not working."
you try to ignore him, you really do. him and his inane excuses, and empty commentary. and for the most part, he disregards you right back. he looks through you, sometimes. sometimes. that is, until the teacher pulls him aside a few weeks before the end of the school year and he comes back more stone-faced and scared than you've ever seen him. he's quiet for longer than you've known possible and you're surprised to find that you kind of miss hearing his voice.
he doesn't really say much, and class lets out, and you go on with your life like normal. but there's an itch in the back of your mind, and it sounds like his name over and over and you can't quite get it out of your head. not until the next day, when you see him again- 2nd period sculpture class, 9 o'clock in the morning.
and this time, he looks right at you.
"you're really good at this whole sculpture thing." he's making a statement, not asking a question. you blink and realise that this is the very first time he's spoken to you, directly. he was complimenting you in a way- on what? does this mean he's seen you? all this time you presumed he stared straight through, blue eyes burning holes through your skull. maybe, just maybe, he's been looking at you the whole time. you're not sure how to reply so you just nod, "i guess."
"i," he says the next words like he's choking on glass and you see his adam's apple bob (his skin is so pale; translucent. you think it'd be cold to the touch,) "need help."
you almost feel bad. he looks like a cat that just got soaked in water. pitiful. playing dumb, though you know exactly what he means, you tilt your head innocently. "help with what?"
he grimaces. you bite the inside of your cheek to stop a smile from spreading like wildfire.
"this class."
"oh? what about it?"
he dramatically slumps against the desk, knocking over the boy in front of him's water bottle. he doesn't bother picking it up. "sculpting. art. everything."
"i thought you were good at everything, though."
that might've been too far, because he looks at you again. he really, really looks. and you think he sees you. because he smiles, "my reputation precedes me. i'm so famous, aren't i?"
"i guess you are," you concede, allowing an edge of amusement to lighten your tone. he is still looking at you. he does not break eye contact. it makes your stomach churn with something sickeningly alive, something abhorrently beautiful.
"then it should be your honour to help me out or something, yeah?"
it should be. it will be. you could let it be.
"i'm pretty busy. sorry."
he blinks at you. you turn away. why did you say no? you didn't want to. but then again, you'd prefer to be away from him and his life- lavish, elegant, mansions and stars and cameras and glamour- you have homework to do.
you think that, after this, gojo satoru will leave you be.
he does not.
in fact, you think it gets worse.
if he wasn't talking to you much at all before, it's all he does now. he sits in your seat before class starts, getting there before you, waiting for you. chats your ears off, too, when you try to get work done. and he always ends up bringing up that proposal again- to help tutor him in sculpture, or give him pointers, or whatever, you try to tune him out.
you wonder why he only asks you. there's plenty of much more talented, much more friendly students in your class. ones that'd say yes. but he only asks you. you think he knew it was only a matter of time before you gave in. that was what he was banking on, probably. all it took was two weeks worth of asking, talking non-stop, and basically borderline begging. and you folded.
..which, is how you find yourself in the art room, after-hours, sitting next to gojo satoru and a pottery wheel as he helplessly squishes the miserable and miserly beginnings of yet another deformed clay pot.
"you can do it," you encourage rather dryly. he shoots you a look. "great acting."
"sorry. i'm trying my best here."
his hands are covered in wet clay, so when he wipes his brow he uses his forearm. the crewneck he wears is pulled up and pale, pale skin glows a wintery shade. you tear your eyes away. "and i am too! but it isn't working!"
you frown. he really is bad at this- ignoring all your direct pointers and advice. you've told him what he needs to fix; be gentle, go slowly, be patient, patient, patient. all that has gone in one ear and out the other.
you really dread what you're about to do. but you want to help him save his grade in this class, because gojo satoru was not gojo satoru without his 4.0 gpa. so, bracing yourself, feeling a tight, tight knot in your stomach, you ghost your hands over his on the wheel and hold on, shadowing them. a guide.
his skin is cold, you were right. big hands, bigger than yours, they feel good and frigid beneath your touch; like they were made for you, sculpted to your touch. you feel his breathing stall before he starts rambling again.
his words move fast, but not faster than his heartbeat, which you feel in his wrist. you'd be dizzy with the proximity if you weren't so focused on making something. it's almost magic, how 2 pairs of hands come together to make something- a small pot, spinning on the wheel.
it's a little lopsided and wonky looking but it's far, far better than anything gojo's accomplished. he goes quiet. "wow," he says, so so hushed you almost don't catch it. you know he's not talking about the pot.
"i told you that you could do it."
his hands break away from the wheel, leaving the clay formation and pulling your hands away, too. they're in his, still, and covered in a think muddy-coloured sludge of slip. but he holds them.
"you have something on your face," you exhale after a beat of silence. because he does; a dash of clay, marking the expanse of skin on his cheek. just below his lip. he smiles and a dimple creases his pretty, pretty face.
"yeah? why don't you get it for me?"
you blink. "my hands are filthy. i'd make it worse."
"do you think i care?"
you're surprised your hands are steady, a sculptor's hands, as you wipe away the drying residue of slip. it crumbles and flakes off his cheek, but your thumb brushes his lip and you feel him freeze before grinning wider and pulling away. you miss his cold. you feel a bit too hot all over, now.
"it's all over your face now," you inform him, snapping your gaze away to hide your embarrassment. he doesn't look away. he looks at you, he looks at you, he looks at you. like he likes you, a little bit.
"we can deal with that after the lesson, yeah?"
you expect him to sound different than he does, when he says this. you expect his voice to be full of ego and confidence, like usual. boisterous, louder than life. but he's quieter. almost like he's shy. you turn back, and you see the way he watches you. like you're precious, like you're fleeting and rare and the most beautiful, beautiful piece of art he's ever seen.
"okay," you say, "okay. sure."
his grin is worth a million dollars and his boyish confidence returns after the lapse of shyness; "awesome!"
promptly after, he moves to go back to the clay pot. in his excitement, he squishes it into a lump again.
"awesome," you sign, resigned. but you can't find it in yourself to be mad. you like him too much for that.
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947 notes · View notes
patchworkgargoyle · 9 months
Text
Booty 🌿
Steve has a plan, and Eddie falls for it. || read on ao3
Here it finally is, folks! My first smut for the ST fandom. I hope you like it!! Inspired by this post.
WC: ~4.8k || E || CW: Unsafe sex
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“Please, Eddie?”
“Are you insane, Steve? It’s hotter than Satan’s taint out there, you cannot expect me to peel myself off this couch.”
Eddie heard a frustrated sigh and a small thud, imagining that Steve had let his head drop on the wall by his phone. “Yeah, I’m aware, I’m sweating buckets right now. But I gotta have the car fixed before tomorrow, I promised Claudia I’d pick up Dustin from the bus station and I can’t do that if it won’t start.”
Thing was, Eddie did kinda want to go and help him, heatwave be damned. They’d grown close in the months since spring break and despite his previous misgivings Eddie had gotten to like Steve. More than he should, really. He can’t help it if his queer little heart does a jig every time he manages to make Steve laugh in that eye-crinkling, head-tipped-back kind of way. Got good at it too, which made Eddie feel a great deal of selfish pride. And if he can’t take his eyes off the long lines of Steve’s mole-dotted neck, that’s his own business.
But this was something else. As soon as Steve called to ask if Eddie would help fix the Bimmer he couldn’t get the thought of him–sweaty and greasy and bent over the open hood of the car, his hair falling just so and lip bitten between his teeth in concentration–out of his dirty little mind. The things he’d want to do. It did as much to convince Eddie to go as it did to make him want to keep his distance.
He was a weak man, however.
“Fine. Alright. But you’d better make it worth my time, I’m risking my pale, un-sunburnt ass for this.”
Steve snorted. “Don’t worry, I will,” he said blandly.
They hung up after Eddie promised to be there in a few minutes, and he rolled off of the couch with a melodramatic groan. Moving in the muggy heat trapped inside the trailer sucked, but he wasn’t going to back out. Steve had sounded so relieved when he’d said goodbye that it gave Eddie enough pep to lurch his way to the kitchen to grab a few cold beers before scrambling into his van. He appreciated his own forethought when he burned his hand on the door handle and could hold a cold bottle against the spot. Fucking summer.
Parking in the Harringtons’ driveway, he spotted the Bimmer pulled halfway into the garage, the front shaded by the overhang in what must be an attempt to avoid the worst of the sunlight. The hood was popped open, but Eddie couldn’t see Steve.
“Ohh Stevie!” he sang, “your knight in shining armour has arrived!” He heard something thunk from the garage but got no response, so he wandered inside, trying to peer around the hood. “I come bearing gifts but they’re gonna get–”
Wheels squeaked from below and Eddie looked down, only to be treated to the sight of Steve’s legs, long and hairy and sprawled open, flexing as he dragged himself out from under the car on the creeper and revealing more inches of mouth-watering thighs. He was–oh fuck, Steve was wearing the tiniest cut-off jean shorts Eddie had ever seen, the fabric of the pockets poking out from under the frayed hems. They were tight, too, hugging his hips and, god, his bulge. The white tank top Steve wore had ridden up, too, exposing the trail of hair that dipped below the fucking shorts, but Eddie followed it up, along the grease stains and the swell of his pecs to Steve’s grinning face.
“...Hot.” Eddie’s voice cracked around the word.
“What was that?” Steve asked.
Clearing his throat, Eddie said, “The beer, it’s uh, gonna get hot.” Somehow he managed to not sound like he was choking on his own drool while Steve still stared up at him from the ground, a few strands of hair stuck to his forehead with sweat. There was a slight smear of dirt across his cheek and Eddie wanted to lick it off.
“You know where the fridge is, Eddie, if you’re that worried.”
“Nah, you look like you need a break. Get up here,” he said, waggling the bottle over Steve’s face. Steve chuckled but finally stood and relieved Eddie of the misery of seeing Steve on his back and not having been the one to put him there.
He popped the caps off with the bottle opener on his keychain, and Steve took his with a ‘thank you,’ downing half in a few gulps. Eddie distracted himself from the sight of Steve’s throat bobbing by peering over at the engine.
“So what’s the issue, doc?”
Steve pulled away from the bottle with a soft popping sound from his pink lips and a gasp. “Dunno yet. That’s why I called you,” he said, leaning on the car beside Eddie. “Oil and battery are fine, spark plugs look good too.”
“She been making a sputtering kind of sound recently? Could be the throttle.”
“Nah, no weird noises.”
Eddie hummed, then set his bottle aside. “Alright, let’s get underneath her then.” Lowering himself onto the creeper and sliding under the car, he said, “Could be a belt has finally busted. Got a flashlight?”
“Really need to ask that?” Steve’s voice got fainter as he walked a little ways away. “The kids insisted on a disaster preparedness kit after round two with the Upside Down.”
There was a tap on the wood under Eddie’s hip, and blindly he reached down to grab the flashlight Steve found. He tinkered around under the Bimmer, unable to wipe away the sweat that started to drip and stick his bangs to his forehead. But eventually he began to roll back out into open, but no less stupidly hot, air.
“Looks like everything’s shipshape, captain–” Eddie choked on his own words when he looked up and was met with a sight straight out of his wet dreams.
Steve stood over Eddie, his legs spread wide enough that Eddie had rolled right between them. If he sat down, Steve would be straddling Eddie’s hips, but that would deprive him of this new angle at which to admire all of Steve’s assets wrapped so tightly in frayed, lightwash denim. Mouth falling open, Eddie let out an eloquent, “Uhhh,” and Steve laughed, holding out his hand.
“Thought you’d like a hand,” Steve explained, smirking.
He took it without thinking and let Steve haul him off the creeper board and up to his feet. A kick, and Steve sent the board skittering away underneath the car, but Eddie barely winced at the noise. He was too busy standing so close to Steve that they breathed the same humid air. If he so much as swayed, their noses would bump together. Christ, Steve had pretty eyes, a bright, warm brown flecked with amber even in the shade of the garage and he swore he could see Steve’s pupils dilate the longer their gazes locked together.
“So, what were you saying?” Steve asked in a low tone. He tilted his head ever so slightly and those eyes held some kind of dare within them, one eyebrow ticked upward. Eddie couldn’t help swallowing, licking his lips, and Steve went from staring into Eddie’s eyes to down at his lips.
“Just saying that, that everything looked fine. Might, uh, might be the crankshaft or the–” Steve stepped forward just enough to bring their chests together, the back of Eddie’s knees hitting the bumper, and Eddie’s breath hitched, his voice cracking, “–the sensor.”
“Eddie.” The way Steve said his name sent a frisson of heat through Eddie, right to his dick, which was becoming a very obvious guest between them.
“Yeah, Stevie?” he whispered.
Broad, warm hands wrapped around Eddie’s slim hips. Steve worked a finger through a belt loop on each side and tugged, and Eddie realised he wasn’t the only one with a hard on when Steve’s pressed up against his own, pulling a hiss of pleasure from them both. Oh, shit. Leaning impossibly closer, Steve’s lips brushed against Eddie’s when he spoke. “I don’t care about the car right now.”
That snapped whatever faint, lingering reservations Eddie had. “Fuck, Stevie, please kiss m–” He didn’t even finish before Steve’s lips crashed into his, plush and hungry. It wasn’t long before Eddie began to nip and lick, his teeth drawing short, pleased noises from Steve’s mouth before he pulled back a scant inch.
“Fucking finally,” Steve said, and dove back in, biting back, making Eddie groan. His hands found their way to Steve’s sides, then, spurred on by Steve’s enthusiasm, he reached down and grabbed at his ass. His fingers wrapped under the hem and he yanked Steve’s hips in and up, rising to meet them.
Steve’s cock grinding against Eddie’s was a fucking revelation. From the way Steve’s mouth parted with a hot gasp, Eddie guessed he felt the same. “Hold on, baby,” he rasped, and using what leverage he had, Eddie hoisted Steve onto his lap, Steve’s knees spread and braced on the car. There was no way he could keep them there for long, but fuck it was hot, rutting their hips together while they kissed, wet and messy.
Eddie tasted the salt of his own sweat when Steve licked into his mouth and moaned, hands fisted into the denim in his grip, feeling more sweat beginning to drip down his back. The heat was stifling, but nothing compared to what started to grow in Eddie’s gut. One of Steve’s hands buried in his curls and pulled, had Eddie bucking up and whimpering around Steve’s tongue. He could come like this, dry humping on top of the Bimmer, lap full of Steve in those shorts, hands on his perfect ass, would’ve if the idea weren’t more embarrassing than hot.
“St-Steve, wait,” Eddie panted, whining again when Steve’s hand clenched in his hair again.
“Why’d you stop? Don’t wanna stop, Eddie,” Steve groaned, before a little more clarity seeped into him and he leaned back into his arms, concerned. “Or, shit, wait, is this okay?”
“God, fuck yes this is okay. Been thinking about this forever, man.” Steve smiled widely, verging on a little goofy, before ducking in and pressing open-mouthed kisses to Eddie’s throat. Eddie’s arms began to shake. His legs had long since begun to tremble. “But, hang on, ah, I’m gonna either drop you or come in my shorts in like two minutes if we don’t rethink this.”
All that did was make Steve start rocking into him again. “Hot,” he mumbled as he licked up a trail of sweat under Eddie’s jaw, making Eddie swear and tip his head back.
Eddie’s knees decided to buckle right then. They shouted, Eddie scrambled, locking Steve in his arms and getting his feet under himself before standing, his hands still hooked around Steve’s ass while Steve’s legs clung to his waist. Steve’s shocked expression likely matched Eddie’s, before he rested his forehead against Eddie’s and laughed so hard his body shook. Helpless, Eddie joined in, holding Steve close while their giggling faded out. But his arms were aching so, gently, he put Steve down.
“Do you wanna stop?” Steve asked. Eddie shook his head.
“You?” Steve shook his. “Thank fuck,” Eddie said. He ran his hands over Steve’s ass, over the crease of his thigh, the tips of his fingers tickling the hair on the back of his thighs before guiding him close again. “Didn’t wanna let you go now that I’ve got you, sweetheart.”
Steve dove into Eddie’s mouth with a hungry groan. The slick sounds of their lips echoed in the garage. With a tug, Steve turned them around and backed up into the car, his hands wandering underneath Eddie’s cut up Iron Maiden tee and clutching at his sides, over the fresh demobat scars, nails digging in bluntly.
Eddie couldn’t keep his hands off Steve either. He pawed at whatever he could, finding the places that made Steve pant and hum into his mouth. But he wanted more, because Eddie has always been a bit greedy. One hand snaked its way around to cup Steve through the shorts that barely contained him, pressing his fingers around the hard outline of Steve’s cock and squeezing, rubbing. The low, raspy moan he got for his efforts made Eddie grin wolfishly.
Head lolling back, Steve breathed hard and rose to meet each stroke of Eddie’s palm. Eddie began to bite and suck his way down the strong line of Steve’s neck, biting every mole he could find. “E-Eddie, I want you to fuck me.”
The words made Eddie bite down just shy of too hard. Steve whined, and Eddie lapped at the spot in apology. “I wanna, I wanna so bad, Steve, but we’re fucking filthy, sweetheart,” he mumbled into Steve’s neck.
“Don’t need to do anything. I, mmh, prepared for this.”
Eddie pulled back to blink at him in disbelief. “You what?”
“I’ve been wanting this for months and nothing was working! So I just, made this as obvious as I fucking could.”
“Months?” Eddie’s jaw dropped when Steve gave him a look that managed to be both fond, flirty, and frustrated. “I could’ve been fucking you for months!?”
“Or I could’ve been fucking you.”
That idea, as sexy as it was, had to be pushed aside before it managed to make Eddie’s horny little brain leak out of his ears. “Putting a pin in that, that’s absolutely gonna happen, but I wanna revisit something. You prepared?”
Steve smirked. “Yeah,” he said, simple and cocky and so hot Eddie could combust. Eddie tried to capture Steve’s lips again but Steve stopped him with a firm hand against his chest, pushing Eddie back a few steps. Turning, he closed the hood of his car and instead of twisting back around to face Eddie, Steve leaned on his arms and arched his back.
Now that was a sight. Steve’s long, tan legs spread just so, one knee cocked to give a slight tilt to his hips. The firm, round swell of his ass peeking out under the denim that struggled to hold together. And right on the apex of those pretty, biteable, jean-clad cheeks: two dark, dirty handprints. There’s even the blackened imprint of fingers on Steve’s skin. Eddie’s fingers, Eddie’s hands. His cock twitched against his zipper and he moaned out, “Ohhh my god…”
Looking over his shoulder, Steve’s smug smirk grew, and he tilted his hips up a little further. “I know I look good, Munson, but are you gonna do something about it or what?”
Eddie stepped forward and draped himself along the expanse of Steve’s back, rutting his hips into Steve’s and making him hum sweetly. “Don’t have to get bratty about it, baby,” he said. He dragged his fingers along Steve’s sides, letting his nails catch on the soft texture of Steve’s scars before dipping down and popping his button open in one swift motion. “Tell me how you prepared.”
He felt the shiver his words evoked run down Steve’s spine. As he slid the zipper down and slid his hand in to find Steve had gone commando–both of them groaning when Eddie’s hand wrapped around Steve’s leaking, twitching cock–Eddie nuzzled into the dip between Steve’s ear and neck, inhaling the scent of his sweat and musk and the faint traces of a clean, fresh cologne valiantly hanging on.
“I, I got this toy. In Indy,” Steve gasped as Eddie pumped him, pulling his cock out as his hand sped up the more Steve spoke. “Worked myself open on it.”
“What’dya think of?” Eddie squeezed.
“You,” Steve keened, jerking into Eddie’s grip.
“Fuck. God. Alright, enough of this.” Standing, Eddie took his hand away and ignored the needy noise Steve made to instead yank the shorts down. Steve only bothered to step out of one leg, having to kick his foot when they got stuck on his shoe. It made his cheeks jiggle. Eddie couldn’t resist giving him a few taps just to watch it again before spreading those cheeks with his thumbs. More dirt smeared over Steve’s dewy skin, but that was only the opening act. The true star of the show glistened with lube and twitched under Eddie’s hungry stare, already loose and used and ready for him. He held himself back from burying his tongue in Steve’s hole, but just barely, letting out a low, hungry rumble instead.
Eddie couldn't move fast enough after that. He grappled with his belt, popped the button of his shorts and shoved them and his boxers out of the way enough for his cock to spring out without help. Then he stepped forward. Eddie let out a shuddering gasp when his aching cock met the searing heat of Steve’s taint and smeared precome along it, echoed when Steve sighed unsteadily as his head slipped up, up, up. Brushed over Steve’s hole once, twice, before catching on the rim.
“Please, Eddie,” Steve whined as he pushed back, and who was Eddie to deny such a pretty request?
He thrust forward and sank into Steve with a slick sound and such little resistance that Eddie’s jaw dropped open in a soundless moan, eyelids fluttering at the hot, wet clench of muscle around him. Another thrust and Steve groaned thickly, his head tilting back so Eddie could see how his bitten-red lips parted deliciously.
“Steve, you good? Please tell me you’re good. Fuck. I wanna fuck you so bad, you feel so good, hot, please Steve,” Eddie begged and rambled, his hands shaking with the need to grab and pull and take.
“If you don’t fucking start right now I’m leaving–”
That was all the permission Eddie needed.
He sank slowly past that ring of muscle and Eddie didn’t have the capacity to be embarrassed about the high-pitched, breathy whine that escaped him. Steve really had prepped, just loose enough and slick enough, but he still took his time. He wanted to savour this, the way he slid into Steve’s tight heat, how the feeling made his legs tremble and his stomach clench. Steve deserved the caution. At first, at least.
“Tell me,” Eddie demanded, needing to talk to distract from the sheer feeling of bliss of being enveloped by Steve. “Tell me about what you were thinking when you fucked yourself on that dildo.”
Steve’s head tilted back with a moan, his brows drawn together, and Eddie longed to bite and lick the strong column of his throat, but he didn’t want to get distracted. He wanted to know.
“I thought about your fingers, first. Those rings, fuck, they drive me nuts. Wish you’d worn them today.” Eddie gave his hips a firm squeeze, fingers spread wide to catch as much soft skin as he could, and grinned when he felt Steve clench around him and heard a stuttering breath.
“I’ll wear them next time, big boy. Wanna see how good they look when I’m jerking you off.” The appreciative groan caused by Eddie’s words was divine.
“God yes. Next time.”
Of course it was then that the phrase sunk in. Next time. Eddie hadn’t even noticed he’d said it but Steve repeating it had something other than raging hormones rising in his gut. He didn’t even have time to process the implication because Steve kept going, and started meeting Eddie’s thrusts with small movements of his own.
“Then I thought about your dick. Y’know, it’s so hard not to stare when you get out of the pool.”
“Did you?”
“Duh.” Steve shot a bitchy look over his shoulder. The usual power behind the look was lost in the bright red flush on his face. It completely fell apart when Eddie shifted and hit somewhere new, Steve’s mouth dropping open with a guttural noise that made Eddie’s cock twitch. “S-shit, it’s so perfect,” he said.
Steve’s head hung loose from his shoulders, forehead resting on the hood of the car, needy, lingering moans bouncing off the metal, breath and sweat condensing on it while Eddie inched further into him every time he slid out and pressed back in. With his palms on the Bimmer, Steve used the leverage to rock into Eddie, the muscles in his shoulders rippling under the white cotton tank starting to go translucent with sweat.
Watching his cock steadily disappear into Steve’s hole was addicting. He leaned back to get a better view of how he split Steve open between the grimy handprints he’d left on the globes of his ass, placed his hands there again and dug his nails in, making Steve’s hips jerk so that Eddie sank the rest of the way with a groan.
“God, Eddie,” Steve mumbled, “fuck, you feel so. So, uh, so good.”
“Y-you too, baby.” Eddie could barely form words. The tight pressure around his cock threatened to end things there and then, but Eddie closed his eyes and breathed, letting the fire and the urge and the want die down to a less immediate threat. But then he opened his eyes, saw how good they looked locked together, the way his darker thatch caught against the lighter brown hairs decorating Steve’s ass, both of them wet from the lube he’d pushed out of his hole, and jesus fucking christ he didn’t want, he needed.
Pulling out slowly and bracing Steve’s hips with a punishing grip was the only warning he gave before snapping forward with a loud grunt, the slap of damp skin a filthy echo in the garage. Steve cried out at the second hard thrust, choked off when Eddie kept going, his hips picking up speed.
“Good?” Eddie gasped. Nodding, Steve uttered a desperate, pleading ‘yes’ that made him fuck into Steve faster.
“Look so fucking hot, Steve,” he started babbling, his voice reedy with pleasure. “God, my handprints on you. Want ‘em to stain, be there forever.” Steve moaned and Eddie felt him tighten around his cock. “Like that, sweetheart?”
“Yeah, fuck, I do, I do!”
Eddie leaned forward, draped himself across Steve’s back, and the angle was so fucking good, so much better, and he knew he’d started pounding into Steve’s prostate by the way his gasps had turned into a delicious mix of thin moans and choked out grunts. Fucking him into the car, Eddie let his hands roam. He rucked up the tank top, watched as the last of the dirt on his hands smeared over Steve’s perfect, scarred skin like loving and greedy claw marks. Finding a nipple, he pinched and squeezed until Steve writhed and squirmed.
Then Steve reached up. Buried a hand into Eddie’s hair, grabbed a handful and pulled.
“Oh fuck!” Eddie whined, his hips stuttering, the pain mixing with pleasure and zinging down his spine.
Steve chuckled, unsteady and breathy but so self-satisfied. “Thought about this… for so long, Eddie.”
“Thinkin’ about me so much, sweetheart. I’m honoured. What, hah, what did you think about?” he asked into Steve’s neck, lips catching on his skin, tempting him to lick, to bite. He did, groaning at the taste of salt.
“This. On your couch, by the pool, my bed, anywhere. Been desperate for it.” Steve pulled Eddie closer by his hair while he bounced back on Eddie’s cock as if to prove it. “Or, shit, bending you over that throne of yours and fucking you into it.” Eddie let out a pitchy whimper and Steve cooed in a way that could’ve been condescending but instead made Eddie melt. “But now, now that I know the kinds of fucking sounds you make–t-there, yes–I wanna take you apart. Slow a-and gentle until you’re a mess–”
He cut himself off with a broken moan. Eddie’s hips kept up their brutal pace with short, sharp, hard thrusts, the sound of their sweat-slicked fucking and and the jingle of Eddie’s belt buckle filling the room. His brain was nothing but static. The image was stuck in a loop like the end of a record left to spin. Eddie heard a desperate, animalistic whine and realised it came from himself.
“Close, baby?” Steve asked. Eddie nodded frantically, his lips dragging through beads of sweat dripping down his neck. He’d been holding it off, the fraying coil threatening to snap, his balls aching as they slapped into Steve’s asscheeks.
“You?” Eddie wanted to beg for Steve to be ready. 
“Getting there, just, don’t stop,” Steve gasped.
Twisting, Steve pulled Eddie down to catch his lips in an open-mouthed kiss, fingers tangled in his damp curls. Their tongues met sloppily. Shared panting breaths like trying to inhale each other. Eddie’s thrusts were starting to falter. He was going to shake apart at this rate. Might just shatter when he comes, the pressure and heat and need too much and so fucking perfect.
“Steve,” Eddie whined, and Steve’s eyes met his. “So good to me, Stevie, sweetheart. Feel so wet, fuckin’ beautiful. Nee–mmh–need you, need you to come, please baby, please.”
“Touch me,” Steve said, practically commanded, and Eddie wasted no time.
Spitting in his hand and hoping it was enough, Eddie wrapped his fingers around Steve’s dick, mixing his spit with the shocking amount of precome leaking from the head and spreading it over his length. Christ he was hung. Steve let out a relieved sigh, which Eddie swallowed, smashing their lips together again while fucking hard enough that he rocked Steve into his fist. Steve started making little ah, ah, ah noises. Next time–please let there actually be a next time–he’d worship this cock in the ways he wanted to, the ways Steve deserved, but for now he pumped him mercilessly. Then, then.
Steve seized, a full-body tremble ripping through him as he came, pulsing in Eddie’s hand as he tightened around Eddie’s cock and he was so fucking gorgeous, plush kissed-red lips open in a silent scream, so hot and tight and, and, and–
With a hoarse shout, Eddie came too, rutting helplessly into Steve as he rode out the sparking shockwaves that also had him shaking, the wet sounds between them even more obscene with Eddie’s come slicking the way. He finally stopped when Steve’s whimpers sounded a little too sharp. Breathing heavily, Eddie braced himself on the hood of the car on weak arms to keep himself from collapsing on top of Steve, only letting his head rest in the crook of Steve’s neck where he left one final, achingly gentle love bite.
“Okay?” he whispered.
“Mhmm,” Steve hummed contentedly, leaning his head against Eddie’s, their damp hair sticking together.
“Gonna pull out now, Stevie, okay?” When Steve just nodded lazily, Eddie slowly pulled out, both of them groaning at the feeling. And he couldn’t keep himself from parting Steve’s cheeks to see his come dribble out a little, feeling a great deal of pride and greedy satisfaction at the sight.
“Bit late to ask, but you’re still clean, right? After all those tests for the bat bites?” Steve asked, grimacing when he stood up. He was the perfect picture of debauchery, only wearing his rumpled, practically see-through tank top, socks, and shoes, with his hair a wild mess and sweat still dripping from his forehead. The dirty fingerprints and red marks starting to bloom on his neck and hips were Eddie’s favourite part.
“Yep, only time I’ll ever thank those shady government fuckers for poking me with all those needles.” Eddie grinned at Steve’s tired, but fond, chuckle.
Steve looked at the car with heavy-lidded eyes, then did a double-take. “Shit, I gotta wash that off.” There, on the shiny burgundy hood of the Bimmer, was the white splash of Steve’s come, stark against the dark colour. Eddie started cackling and Steve complained, “Dude, shut up, it’ll ruin the paint!” 
“Gonna wash your car without these, Winnie the Pooh?” Eddie bent down to scoop up Steve’s shorts, dangling them from a finger. He laughed when Steve snatched them back with a glare that barely hid his begrudging smile. While he stepped back into them with a wince, Eddie said, “Interesting choice of clothing to work on your car, by the way.”
“Worked, though, didn’t it?”
“What?” Eddie’s eyes narrowed when Steve smiled innocently and shrugged before he wandered off to get a chamois towel and soap. And it clicked. “You planned this? You lured me in with slutty shorts?”
Tossing the towel up and catching it, Steve’s smile widened into something smug. “Yep.”
“Wait. Is the car even broken?”
Steve just offered Eddie another sly shrug and started wiping his come off the hood.
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Fuck, my heel. My head was clouded and my vision was doubled, and all I wanted was to get myself home. On the edge of the sidewalk, beneath a street lamp, I sat idly and dealt with my high heel with the broken strap. Removing it and attempting to lift myself up. Once. Twice.
"Need help there?" A startling voice that couldn't mean any good, but I found myself looking up into four pairs of attentive eyes. Two male faces, genuine kindness glinting in their iris's.
With my heels now in his hands, your hands helped me up and then granted me a water bottle because I need to stay hydrated. Especially when I'm this drunk.
One bare footstep in front of the other with two chivalrous men on either side of me. Dark hair getting in my eyes and fingers grasping my elbow and footsteps faltering and stumbling until my body leaned onto yours. Lightheaded and floating and unable to keep my head straight. I heard the murmurs and the chuckling but neither kept my body weight from finding you...
A muffled song replaying over and over again. The blurred vision of a rotating ceiling fan. Round and round and round at a speed I couldn't keep up with. Cracked walls and a lamp producing a somewhat decent amount of lighting. Chain bolted door with one, two, three, four locks. Uncomfortable faux leather beneath me in what I believe is a worn couch. And then my wrists, bound by ordinary rope you could buy at a hardware store. My ankles submitted to the same restrainment. My throat oddly dry and emitting a bitter taste on my tongue when I realized the cloth stuffed in my mouth. That is when my eyes snapped open and I began screaming. Screaming and screaming despite the energy it was consuming.
"Shit, shit, shit," I heard a voice, footsteps, "fucking shut up, bitch. Shut up." Desperate and manical speaking, crazed eyes that approached me and then found my body that I just noticed was bare. Entirely undressed save for my lace panties.
My screams slowly converted into ugly, heaving sobs. Tears blurring my vision and slipping down my face, cries muffled by this cloth. I'm going to die.
"Shut her up. Shut her up!" The same voice spoke to another.
The same four pairs of eyes looking down at me. The same two male faces, no longer so genuine.
And then you got onto your knees, cupping my too-warm face and examining my running makeup. "It's okay. It's okay, we're not gonna hurt you. Sshhh, stop screaming."
But your attempt at reassurance only did worse until my body was writhing, my limbs flailing to remove myself from this imprisonment. But, fuck, the ropes were tight and digging into my delicate skin. Everything I did was worthless and only made me look like a flopping fish out of water.
I felt the pad of your thumb beneath my eye, wiping away at the soaked, stained skin.
"You'll be good for us, no?" You said. The walls of my world collapsed inward at that moment. My night at the bar soon shifted into something far far worse than my worst nightmares.
The plan wasn't to kill me. It was never to kill me.
"A slut like you deserves this anyway. Dressing so naughty and tempting men."
My kicking was useless as hands found their way up my thighs, nearing my cunt with suspensive touches. My breasts fondled and groped and tortured. My legs grabbed and flipped up until my knees hit my chest. Cold air met my cunt as the crotch of my panties was pushed to the side. An unwanted finger sliding between my pussy lips, teasing my girly hole and then finding my clit. Gentle circles around the sensitive nub that made me squirm and twitch.
I couldn't help it. It was instinctive. Only natural for me to become aroused. Only natural for my cunnie to get wet, and wetter with each new touch. I was still crying as you swiped away my tears, cooing and praising.
Please please please, make it stop. Make it stop. I don't want this.
One finger inside my soft cunt. Then another. And then they were thrusting in and out of me, sloshing in my unapproved wetness and I could only lay there and squirm.
A cock inside of my cunnie and then my head was turned to the side, a cock down my throat aswell. I was sputtering and twitching, trying my best to jerk back. But the back of my head kept hitting the armrest painfully. Your fingers dug into my hair and gripped the dark roots, achingly tight. I screwed my eyes closed and prayed, wished, pleaded for this to be over. I tried to find another reality that wasn't this one, but with cock forcefully shoved down my throat, it was useless.
Please please please. Stop. Just stop.
Struggling to suck in air. All the while, thrusting in and out of my cunt with furious brutality. Balls slapping against my ass. So deep, so uncomfortably deep. Hitting my cervix again and again. And oh my God, did it hurt- but it was only natural. Only natural for my body to enjoy it.
With a gasp from me, you yanked out of my throat. I revelled in the break and finally relaxed my jaw, panting harshly. Your large hand was rough against my chin, which you held upwards. My tits bouncing as he rammed into me. Getting himself off. Using me. And then reaching his own climax with a groan.
Reaching his own climax.
Fuck fuck fuck nononononono. NO!
My entire world crumbled at one moment. One brief moment where I was in the most uncomfortable position, cramps breaking out in my hips which were held up right. My body practically folded in half by the man keeping it that way. And there I fell limp, lost in a split second that crashed over me like furious waves.
Hot cum dripping out of my fertile cunt.
That same horrid song on loop. The spin spin spin of the ceiling fan. The dimmed light of the nearly spent lightbulb. Faux leather glueing to my sweaty skin. The panting, the stickiness, the skin-on-skin.
Fuck.
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Hehe (⁠ノ⁠◕⁠ヮ⁠◕⁠)⁠ノ⁠*⁠.⁠✧
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hoshigray · 10 months
Note
hi! i’m not quite sure if you’re comfortable with this but could you do toji taking care of his bratty gf that’s on their period? no pressure especially if you’re not comfortable! thank you so much! <33
Oh, dw anon, I'm totally comfortable writing this kind of stuff, but thanks for checking with me tho c: Didn't know what approach to go with this, but felt like fluff would be the best fit (since ik not everyone's into period sex; perhaps an idea I can go back on later *shrugs*). Please enjoy, and I hope you like this! ♡ Also, this is 3 for 3 on the request streak, holy shit haha! Cw: Toji x fem!reader - fluff - Toji trying to be a good bf and lowkey domestic - the reader is a lil whiny, but Toji still loves you - tummy massages!! - some light-hearted comedy; reader trying to annoy Toji lol - pet names (baby, sweetie, princess) - just you and Toji being a couple :3 Wc: 1.1k
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"Toji?"
The man hums but doesn't turn to you, watching the television from the floor while you lay on the couch.
You try again. "Tojiiiiii~"
He rolls his eyes at your sing-song attitude, finally turning to your face. "Yeah, baby?"
"Would you please add more water to the kettle for me? My water bottle's getting cold, and my feet hurt."
With a huff, he gets up and walks to the kitchen. "Sure thing, sweetie." You hum into your couch pillow while wiggling on the water bag you're lying on, taking in whatever's left of the lukewarm storage bottle.
Today has been quite a busy day on your end. Amid two midterms, a group project, and a paper due at 11:45 p.m. tomorrow, you still have work to do today. And to top it all off, your period started two days ago, meaning you're suffering as of now. Not only is stress from college drowning you, but your body makes the pressure tenfold more painful to the point of wanting to shut down.
This is why you've spent your Friday afternoon cooped in your apartment and avoided talking with or seeing anyone, trying to focus on your work while dealing with your personal predicament. Especially texting your boyfriend, Toji, that you won't be able to see him for dinner at his favorite ramen place.
Nevertheless, the older man comes knocking on your door with a bag full of your favorites from the restaurant, saying he'll just spend the night with you at your place and help with whatever you need. Though you tried to decline his offer, his company has been very comforting.
However, since he came here with sincere intentions, you want to test his patience. With a cheeky smile pulling your lips, you start your act.
You hear Toji press the button to heat the water up, his heavy steps prominent of his return to you in the living space. He plops back down on his place on the floor, leaning against the couch you're lying on and putting his attention back on the TV.
Well, he tries to.
"Tojiiii~," You see the rise and fall of his shoulder sync with the heavy exhale escaping through his nose. Giggles are stifled, but your smile is wide when he looks back at you with one brow scrunched down.
A stern "What?" is thrown in your direction.
A tiny giggle slips out. "Can you please massage my tummy?"
He looks dead at your face before he scoffs. "Do I look like your personal maid or somethin'?"
"No, you're my wonderful, handsome, and caring boyfriend," You bring a foot up to tap his shoulder, to which Toji grumbles. To his dismay, you continue to tease him with your poking. "As a caring boyfriend, you should attend to your lady when she is in insufferable pain."
"Poke me with your toes again, and I'll chew 'em off." Okay, that's when you stop pestering the older man, holding in your laughter as he scowls with a devilish smirk. Another huff of air exits his lungs before he gets up from his spot once again, and you reposition yourself for him to sit on the couch facing you. He places the water bottle on the floor. "You got your own hands, doncha?"
"Of course, but I asked for your hands." He glares at you though you pay it no mind, lifting your shirt to pat your stomach. "Now, massage me!"
Toji shakes his head yet lifts his hands and places them on your exposed abdomen, calloused and scarred fingers squeezing your plush skin. "So annoyin', ya fuckin' brat." You blow a raspberry. "I shoulda stayed at the ramen joint."
"Pfft, please, you know you don't go there alone anymore. Might've gotten bored and brought yourself here regardless." You close your eyes and sink into the feeling of the man's fingers rubbing your stomach.
He only replies with a small 'hmph' and continues with the task thrown onto him.
This continues for a few moments, and you enjoy the man's hands roaming your belly. His palms and fingers' rough yet gentle manner makes you feel like the cramps are no longer a problem. It feels so pleasant. Curious, you open an eye to stare at the man before you.
The look on Toji's face displays nothing but pure focus, looking at his work as he massages you. Raven bangs cast shade from the ceiling lights. The man had soft emerald eyes, yet keen as they zero in on your physique as he skilfully kneads your abdomen with his digits. His lips are kept in a neutral line, and you can't help but look at his scar when he licks his teeth.
The more you examine him, the more you realize just how lucky you are to see this side of him. And maybe how lucky you are to have such a man deal with you even during times like this.
"Whatcha lookin' at me for, princess?"
Toji's gruff voice snaps you back, realizing he caught you surveying him. A grin dashed on his face. You decide to toy with him one more time. "Oh, Tojiiiii."
The smirk immediately disappears, replaced with a look that screams mild annoyance. You let out a burst of laughter, rocking your head back and forth and laughing harder every time you peer back at his face. "Fucking what now, ya damn brat?" He doesn't try to hide the irritation in his voice, and you can feel him glare holes into you while you laugh into your hands.
You calm yourself down, speaking in chuckles. "You know I love you, right?
"Shut the hell up." Not a single change to his face.
"No, I—pfffthaha," giggles escape your lips as you try to center yourself to speak appropriately, placing your hands on his big ones that rest atop your tummy. "I mean it, I really do! I appreciate you coming here and dealing with me and my whiny ass. If you hadn't been here, I'd probably be rotting in my bed right about now. I love you, so thank you for watching out for me."
Toji's face slowly molds away from his peeved expression, now relaxed and exhibitng a look of slight astonishment. You can make out a tiny shade of pink under his eyes and earlobes, yet you choose not to point it out to showcase your seriousness with a loving smile. He scoffs, shakes his head, and leans close to your face.
"You're somethin' else, ya know that, kid?" He flicks your forehead, resulting in you groaning from the diminutive mistreatment. But he quickly places a kiss when you're done squirming from the pain. "I love ya too, baby. Always."
You beam at him. "Even when I'm whiny?"
Finally, he laughs. "Yeah, even when yr' whiny. My whiny, annoyin', cute-ass princess."
"I said whiny, not annoying."
"Whatever." The two of you exchange laughs and kisses on the couch, completely disregarding your assignments and the kettle ready with hot water. It doesn't matter nor compare with the adoration you experience from him right now, so you indulge yourself for as long as you can.
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wholoveseggs · 2 months
Text
Indulgences
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18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}
Part Four
In the aftermath of violence, you forge new connections and leave behind all the pain that has plagued you for so long.
7k words - Warnings: smut, angst, mentions of domestic violence, more angst, Klaus being nice, cannoli.
{Part One} {Part Two} {Part Three}
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You found yourself sitting in Elijah's shower, your knees tucked up to your chest, letting the warm water wash over your skin. Your body was sore, your throat ached, your face hurt; every part of you felt bruised. You stared at the tile, trying to process what happened.
All you felt was relief. You were finally free of Jordan. Free from his abuse, his manipulation, the constant fear of him hurting you. Elijah had saved your life. If he hadn't intervened, you'd be dead right now, but you were too exhausted to properly feel grateful. So you just cried, letting out all the pain you had bottled up over the years, and when there was no more energy left, you just sat there, letting the hot water soothe you.
You eventually got up, your whole body aching, bruises and scrapes covering your skin. You dried off, wrapping the towel around your body and winced at a strange pain on your back. You looked in the mirror and saw gravel embedded in your skin; you tried to remove it, but it was just out of your reach.
You left the bathroom and rummaged through the drawers, pulling on a pair of Elijah's sweatpants and a plain t-shirt, the fabric feeling soft against your skin. You glanced at yourself in the mirror, seeing a stranger. Your makeup was gone, and so was the persona that came with it; you had been stripped bare and exposed, the real you was staring back.
You went searching for something warm to drink to help you fall asleep. The house was silent and still, the lights were dim, the faint scent of candles in the air. You found the kitchen and grabbed a mug from the cupboard, filled it with water, and set it in the microwave, pressing the button.
"Who do we have here?" An accented voice called from behind, making you jump.
You turned and saw Klaus leaning against the wall, his arms crossed.
"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't know anyone was here," you said, nervously tugging on the hem of the t-shirt, suddenly very conscious of the bruises covering your face and neck.
"I remember you from the club," Klaus continued, not acknowledging your apology. "You're the one who danced for Elijah."
"That's right," you mumbled, pulling the mug from the microwave.
Klaus approached you and took the mug from your hands, dumping out the water. "Sit, I'll make you some proper tea," he insisted, giving you a kind smile.
You did as you were told, pulling yourself onto the barstool and watching him make tea.
"What's your name, love?" Klaus asked, filling the kettle.
"Y/n," you said, picking at your fingernails.
"So you're the reason my brother has been disappearing most evenings," Klaus mused, setting the kettle on the stove and lighting the burner.
"I suppose," you said, feeling uneasy about where this was going.
"He's not the type to frequent the sort of establishment you work at. It's curious that he's been visiting you," he continued, turning to look at you, his gaze roaming over the marks on your skin.
"It's complicated," you said, crossing your arms self-consciously.
"May I ask how you acquired those bruises?" He inquired, pointing to your face.
"Boyfriend, I guess.. ex-boyfriend now," you said, the word boyfriend sounding wrong when you described him.
Klaus raised his eyebrow. "I see," he said, his tone was cold and sharp, his eyes glinting dangerously. "I'm sorry,"
You shrugged. "It's nothing," you mumbled, staring at the counter.
"Did my brother deal with him? Is he no longer in your life?" Klaus pressed.
"He's dead," you said softly.
Klaus stared at you in silence, his expression unreadable, his jaw clenched. "And do you mourn his loss?"
You shook your head, not trusting yourself to speak, tears stinging at the back of your eyes.
He sighed, placing his hands on the counter, his gaze boring into yours. "My father was the same way. I just want you to know, whatever you are feeling, it's okay," he said, his voice was soothing, understanding.
You felt the tears spilling over, sliding down your cheeks. You wiped them away, sniffling, not able to understand why his words broke you.
Klaus silently finished making the tea, handing you the steaming mug.
"Thank you," you said quietly, taking the mug in your hands, savoring the warmth.
"It's lavender, should help you sleep," he explained.
"Do you know where Elijah is?" You asked. 
"He's out covering up your lover's death," he said matter-of-factly. 
"Oh," you murmured, lifting the mug to your lips and wincing, the gravel in your skin tugging painfully.
"What's wrong?" Klaus asked, noticing your reaction.
"I have some gravel stuck in my back, I tried to remove it but couldn't reach it," you explained, taking another sip.
"I can help, do you mind?" Klaus asked, motioning to your back.
"I don't mind," you replied, pulling down the back of your shirt, revealing the damage embedded between your shoulder blades.
"Ah yes, quite a lot. Hold still," he said, before pressing his fingertips to the wounds.
You felt a sharp sting and winced. He began to remove the pieces of gravel and dirt, dropping them on the counter.
"Elijah would always clean my wounds after our father had hurt us," Klaus began, his voice growing softer. "Often before he would tend to his own,"
You closed your eyes, picturing a young Klaus and Elijah, hiding away together.
"We'd bandage each other up and then go out into the forest and run around, pretend like everything was alright," he continued.
"You were lucky to have each other," you said, smiling sadly.
Klaus dropped the last piece of gravel onto the counter and walked around, pulling the chair out and sitting down, his elbows resting on his knees.
"He's always been this way, putting everyone before himself." He chuckled, shaking his head. "Then, when he's in love, he gets even worse,"
"In love?" You repeated, raising an eyebrow.
"My brother doesn't do half-measures. If he is invested in someone, he's all in," Klaus explained, giving you a knowing look.
You didn't know what to say, so you just took a sip of tea, looking into the steaming mug. You couldn't deny your feelings for him, they were growing stronger everyday, the thought of him made your heart flutter. But love? It seemed like such a strong word, one that comes with consequences.
"I'll leave you to your thoughts. You are welcome to stay here as long as you'd like," he said, giving you a polite nod as he left.
You sat there for a while, finishing your tea and contemplating everything that happened.
When the tea was gone, you returned to Elijah's room, sliding under the covers, feeling completely exhausted. You wished he was here with you, your body craved his touch, to feel his skin against yours. It felt odd to have someone who wanted to protect you, keep you safe, someone who actually cared about you.
Your eyelids were heavy, your muscles felt stiff, and soon you were drifting off to sleep.
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You woke to the smell of coffee and something delicious cooking. Your body ached, everything felt heavy, but you slowly sat up, letting the blankets pool at your waist. You were still wearing his clothes, his scent enveloping you, the shirt slipping off your shoulder.
Elijah stood in the doorway, his sleeves rolled up, the top two buttons undone. He smiled softly when he saw you awake. "Good morning, how are you feeling?" He asked, his eyes raking over the bruises on your face and neck.
"I'm okay," you said, returning his smile.
"I made breakfast," he said, holding up a tray filled with eggs, toast, fruit and a steaming mug.
"What a gentleman," you teased, a blush creeping onto his cheeks.
"I try," he said with a laugh, placing the tray on the nightstand and taking a seat beside you on the bed.
"Thank you," you whispered, reaching out and cupping his cheek, stroking his smooth skin.
"I'm just glad you're safe," he said, placing his hand on yours, intertwining his fingers. He then pulled away, a storm of emotions playing on his face but he quickly masked them, picking up the tray and offering it to you.
"Can I ask you a favor?" You asked, taking a bite of the eggs.
"Anything," Elijah said, watching you carefully.
"Can I stay here for a while? I don't want to go back to my place," you said, taking a sip of coffee.
"Of course," he said, without hesitation.
"Thank you," you replied, a weight lifting from your shoulders. "Just until I find a new place,"
"Or forever," Elijah said, with a small smirk.
You couldn't help but laugh. "You might get sick of me,"
"Doubtful," he teased.
You finished your food, placing the tray back on the nightstand and crawling out of bed, stretching out the sore muscles. 
"I'm going to need a lot of makeup to cover these up before my shift tonight," you mused, looking in the mirror.
Elijah appeared behind you, his eyes dark, his fingers brushing against the marks on your neck. "You don't have to go back," he murmured, his fingers dancing across the bruised skin.
"I have bills to pay," you said, turning around to face him.
"I'll pay them," he insisted, his eyes locked with yours.
"I don't want to be dependent on you, it's important for me to have a sense of control," you explained, hoping he would understand.
He sighed, a look of frustration crossing his face. "I understand," he said, although his tone said otherwise. "Can I at least take you shopping? I'll compel the store to give you anything you'd like,"
"If you insist," you said, giving him a warm smile.
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You spent the day going from designer store to designer store, buying dresses, skirts, and tops. He also bought you lingerie, shoes and even a few pieces of jewelry. He was the perfect gentleman, helping you carry the bags, insisting you needed more than just what you picked.
"I know this lovely little street market near here, let's go get some food," Elijah said, as you both stood on the sidewalk.
"That sounds nice," you agreed, feeling a fluttering in your stomach.
The market was busy, people were bustling around, the scent of delicious foods and flowers hung in the air.
Elijah went off to grab coffees for the two of you, while you found a jewelry vendor that was making the most delicate necklaces. You ran your finger over a simple chain, a small gem hanging from the end, the metal cool beneath your fingertips.
"Y/n! Is that you?!" A voice called.
You turned and saw Stacy, with Tonya in tow.
"Hi ladies," you said, glancing at them nervously.
"What happened to your face?" Tonya asked, eyeing the bruises.
"Oh, uh, it's nothing," you mumbled, suddenly finding the jewelry very interesting.
"Is Jordy with you? I need some pills," she pressed, not paying attention to your discomfort.
"No," you said sharply. "We broke up,"
"What?!" Stacy screeched. "What happened?"
"It's complicated," you grumbled, trying to walk away.
"Is that Dior? Chanel? Girl, what the fuck?" Tonya exclaimed, looking at your bags.
"Yeah," you said, glancing down. "Uh, a friend bought them for me,"
"Whoever they are, they've got some deep pockets," Tonya scoffed, crossing her arms.
"Yes, he's quite generous," you mumbled, a blush creeping onto your cheeks.
"Oh my god, it's Elijah isn't it? You can't be sleeping with clients!" Stacy gasped.
"I'm not," you said defensively.
Elijah found you, carrying a tray of coffees in one hand and a bouquet of flowers in the other. He handed the flowers to you, gazing down at you affectionately.
"Hello ladies," Elijah greeted the girls, his eyes never leaving yours.
"Hello, Mr. Mikaelson," Stacy purred, batting her lashes. "It's so generous of you to buy y/n all these pretty things,"
"Not at all, it's my pleasure," he said, his accent making the words sound even sweeter.
"Are you guys a couple?" Tonya asked, her eyes wide with curiosity.
"No," you said quickly, glancing at Elijah nervously.
Elijah gave the girls a tight-lipped smile, not bothering to respond.
"Jordan won't be happy if he finds out you've moved on so quickly," Stacy sneered.
"He won't care," you retorted, not liking her tone.
"Well, I think we should get going, enjoy the rest of your day ladies," Elijah said, taking your bags and offering you his arm.
You gladly took it, leaning into him as you both walked away, a sigh escaping your lips.
"Are you alright?" He asked, glancing down at you.
"Yeah," you muttered.
He stopped walking, his eyes scanning the crowd, searching for something. He found it, and with a swift movement, compelled the nearest food vendor to give him a plate of fresh baked goods.
"Here, this will make you feel better," he said, handing you a cannoli.
You took the pastry, the aroma was heavenly, he guided you over to a nearby bench, and you both sat, enjoying the treats.
You watched the people bustling about, the sound of their voices creating a pleasant hum, the sun warming your skin.
"I don't think you should come to the club anymore," you said quietly, staring at the ground.
"May I ask why?" Elijah inquired, a slight edge to his voice.
"Stacy is a bitch," you said, taking a bite of the croissant. "She wants me fired, she thinks I'm sleeping with you for money,"
Elijah chuckled, shaking his head. "I have never paid for such things and never will. Although, it would be a privilege to spend my nights with you,"
You blushed, looking away, your heart fluttering. "Do you mind dropping me off? My shift starts soon,"
"Of course," Elijah said, standing and offering you his hand.
You took his hand, his skin warm, his grip firm, he gently helped you up. His fingers lingered on yours for a moment, and you felt a spark of electricity. You gazed up at him, his eyes dark and intense, the desire was palpable, but then he looked away.
"Let's go," he said, his voice soft.
The drive was silent, the tension in the air was thick. He dropped you off, giving you a polite nod as you got out of the car.
"Call me when you are off and I'll pick you up," he said, a hint of worry in his eyes.
"Thank you," you said, offering him a small smile.
You headed towards the back entrance, where a bouncer was waiting, a cigarette in hand. He didn't say anything, just gave you a small nod and let you in.
Stacy was in the dressing room, her eyes narrowed, her jaw clenched.
"I still haven't heard from Jordan," she snapped, blocking your path.
"And? That's not my problem," you said, glaring at her.
"What happened to you? Did you get these bruises from Elijah?" She asked, poking the tender spots.
"No, I didn't," you hissed, pushing her hand away. "He saved me,"
"Saved you? From who?" She scoffed, crossing her arms.
"Does it really matter? It's none of your fucking business," you snapped, trying to step past her.
She grabbed your arm, squeezing the bruises and pulling you close. You smacked her hard across the face, causing her to stumble. She looked at you in shock, her mouth open, her eyes wide.
"Don't touch me," you growled, storming away.
You slammed your locker shut and got ready for your shift, ignoring the whispers and stares from the other dancers.
Stacy had run off to tell Mitch, you were sure that she would make your life miserable now, but you didn't care, she had crossed the line.
You danced for an hour, the pain was starting to get unbearable. Your muscles ached, the bruises throbbed, and your face was covered in a thin layer of sweat. You saw Mitch watching you with his arms crossed, an angry look on his face. You knew it wouldn't be long before he came to find you.
Sure enough, Mitch grabbed your arm, his grip firm.
"A word," he hissed, leading you to his office.
He sat behind his desk, gesturing for you to take a seat.
"What the hell is going on with you?" He asked, leaning forward, his elbows resting on the desk.
"Nothing," you said, looking down.
"Bullshit," he scoffed, shaking his head.
You glared at him, your jaw clenching.
"Who the hell did this to you? Was it a client?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Don't worry Mitch, it didn't happen at the club, you aren't liable," you said coldly, you knew that was all he really cared about.
Mitch sighed, running his hand through his greasy hair.
"There is another matter," he began, giving you a pointed look. "Stacy has informed me that there are some rumors circulating about you and that rich client of yours,"
You rolled your eyes. "We're friends,"
"That's not what it looks like. It looks like you are whoring yourself out for him, people have been asking questions," he said, a slight edge to his voice.
"People can go fuck themselves," you muttered, crossing your arms.
"You aren't allowed to see him anymore," he said firmly, his eyes locked with yours.
"Excuse me?" You asked, a feeling of dread forming in the pit of your stomach.
"It's illegal, what you are doing. Not only that, but it's bad for business," Mitch explained, a smug look on his face.
"Since when do you care about the law?" You scoffed, rolling your eyes. "You let the drugs flow here freely,"
"Don't get smart with me," Mitch snapped.
"I'm not doing anything wrong," you retorted.
"It doesn't matter, the club comes first," Mitch said, standing up. "It's your job or your sugar daddy. You choose,"
You froze, your blood running cold.
"What are you saying?" You asked, your voice barely a whisper.
"If you keep seeing him, you're fired," Mitch said, his tone final.
"That's not fair," you said, the words catching in your throat.
"I have a business to run. You need to learn how to stay in your lane," Mitch said, shrugging his shoulders.
You had enough, you got up and headed towards the door. It was an easy decision to make, a job was just a job, Elijah was your friend and someone who had saved your life. You needed him more than anything else right now.
"Fuck you Mitch, I quit," you said, flipping him off as you left the office.
You quickly grabbed your things from the dressing room and texted Elijah to come pick you up. He replied almost instantly, promising to be there soon.
Stacy watched you from the corner, a smirk on her lips. You decided to be petty.
"You were right Stacy, I am fucking Elijah, and it's amazing," you said, a smile on your face. "I imagine he's far better in bed than Mitch is, that limp dick fucker. You'd know all about that, though, huh? How often do you have to suck his dick to get the premium shifts? Does it feel good being the owner's favorite? Because I think I'd rather die,"
She gasped, her eyes wide, her face flushed. She glared at you, the other girls giggling, but you just smiled, giving her the middle finger and blowing her a kiss before walking out the door. You were done with her bullshit.
The cold air hit your face, causing goosebumps to form on your skin. You wrapped your arms around yourself, trying to stay warm. You couldn't believe you had quit, but Mitch had given you no choice.
You glanced at the parking lot, waiting for Elijah to show up. He pulled up a few minutes later, opening the door and getting out, a worried expression on his face.
"What happened?" He asked, his voice full of concern.
"It's a long story, can we go home?" You said, shivering.
"Of course," he murmured, helping you into the car.
You watched the scenery go by, your thoughts a jumbled mess, the events of the night replaying in your mind. What you wanted was to be with Elijah, to let him take care of you, but you were afraid. You didn't want to jump from relying on one man to another. You had an opportunity to break the cycle you have been trapped in.
You went straight to your room, collapsing on the bed, your body aching. Bags of expensive clothing and jewelry were scattered around the room, reminding you of the day's events. You groaned, burying your face in a pillow.
As the night wore on, you couldn't shake the feeling of anxiety. You needed to have a talk with Elijah, to figure out where the two of you stood.
You got out of bed, your joints protesting the movement. You walked down the hallway, listening to the soft sounds of a piano being played.
You found him in his study, sitting at the baby grand, his fingers gracefully dancing over the keys. He was playing a melancholic tune, the notes drifting through the air. You stood there for a moment, listening to the music, entranced by the way his hands moved, his brow furrowed in concentration. He was wearing just a pair of sweatpants, his bare chest illuminated by the light from the fireplace. His hair was a little messed up, you had never seen him so casual, the sight making your heart flutter. The fire cast shadows on his features, highlighting the sharp lines of his face, the hollows of his cheeks. His eyes were closed, lost in the music. You took a deep breath, knowing that you had to interrupt him. He was the only person who could make you feel safe, you knew it was time to take the risk and let him in.
"Elijah?" You called softly, not wanting to startle him.
His eyes opened, a gentle smile appearing on his lips. He patted the spot next to him, moving over slightly.
"I didn't know you played," you said, sitting down, making sure to leave some space between the two of you.
"There are lots of things you don't know about me," he said, a faint smile on his lips.
"Like what?" You asked, looking at him expectantly.
He stopped playing and let out a soft sigh, his gaze drifting down to the keys.
"My brother once called me an old romantic, that I am a hopeless idealist. He said that I always hold onto hope, no matter how futile it seems," he said quietly.
"I don't think that's a bad thing," you murmured, looking down.
"Maybe not," he said, a pained expression flashing across his face. "But it doesn't make the world any easier,"
You didn't know what to say, so you just sat there in silence, listening to the sound of the crackling fire, the heat of the flames warming your skin. It was comforting, sitting with him like this, his presence was reassuring.
"I just want you to know... That I'm quite fond of you," he said, his gaze locking with yours. 
"I'm fond of you too," you replied, a blush creeping onto your cheeks.
He gave you a soft smile, the light from the fireplace reflected in his eyes. Your heart began to race, your palms becoming sweaty. You were so nervous, it was as if you were a teenager again, sitting next to the boy you liked, not knowing what to do. You tried to think of something to say, but the words seemed to get stuck in your throat. You felt so foolish, it was just Elijah, the first night you met him you put your tits in his face and gave him a lap dance. He had seen you in a state of undress many times and had touched your naked skin, but somehow, this was more intimate. It was different, there were no expectations, no performance. Just two people, enjoying each other's company. You realized that you had been staring at him for far too long, and looked away, embarrassed. He chuckled, taking your hand in his, his thumb tracing small circles on your palm. The gesture was simple, yet it made your heart skip a beat.
"You are a good man Elijah Mikaelson," you said softly, looking up at him.
"I'm not so sure about that," he said, giving you a sad smile.
"You saved my life," you whispered. "And you have been nothing but kind to me, even though you didn't have to be,"
"I have my own selfish reasons for wanting to help you," he admitted, his gaze drifting down.
"Oh?" You asked, a slight edge to your voice.
"I was lonely. I've always been lonely. When I saw you, I saw an opportunity," he confessed.
"For what?" You asked, your heart sinking.
"A chance at companionship," he said, his eyes meeting yours. "To not be alone,"
"I think that is just what we all want," you murmured. "To be loved,"
The world seemed to fall away. There was only the two of you, sitting there, the sound of the fire crackling, the light from the flames casting shadows on your faces. You felt a rush of emotion, your heart pounding in your chest. You moved closer, your faces mere inches apart, the warmth of his breath caressing your skin. You were intoxicated by him, his scent, his warmth, his presence. You had never felt this way before, had never wanted someone so much.
You closed the distance between the two of you, your lips meeting in a soft kiss. He pulled away slightly, his eyes searching yours, seeking permission. You kissed him again, a low moan escaping his lips. He pulled you into his lap, his strong arms wrapping around your waist, his hands roaming your body.
"I want you," you whispered, your hands gripping his shoulders.
"I'm yours," he said, his lips capturing yours in a passionate kiss.
He lifted you up, carrying you in front of the fireplace and gently setting you down on the plush rug. He hovered above you, his gaze hungry and intense. You felt your body respond, the heat pooling in your core, your heart racing.
Elijah took his time undressing you, his hands caressing every inch of your skin. He kissed his way down your body, leaving no part untouched. His lips lingered on your bruises, as if he could kiss them away.
You both laid there for a while, kissing under the glow of the fireplace, his body pressing into yours. There was nothing rushed, no pressure, no loud music or artificial lights of the club. It was just the two of you, your bodies intertwined, exploring each other.
His fingers traced over your skin, finding their way between your legs, stroking and teasing your clit. He watched your reaction, his gaze intense, his lips parted, his eyes dark. Loving the way your body responded, he slowly eased a finger inside you, your breath catching in your throat.
He moved down, his mouth replacing his fingers, sucking on your clit, his tongue flicking over the sensitive bundle of nerves. Your back arched, a soft moan escaping your lips.
"Elijah," you breathed, your eyes half-closed, your hands gripping his hair.
Your moans increased as you neared climax. He kept you hovering on the edge, bringing you right to the brink before pulling back. He wasn't in a hurry, his tongue lazily circling your clit, his hands caressing your inner thighs.
"You're teasing me," you groaned, your voice heavy with lust.
"It's only fair," he chuckled, the vibration causing you to shudder. 
He moved back up your body, kissing your neck as his erection pressed against you. He took one of your thighs and pulled it around his waist. You held your breath as he teased you, the tip of his cock brushing against your wetness. You squirmed, eager to feel him inside you.
He smiled down at you, capturing your lips in a gentle kiss.
"I want you to know how much you mean to me," he murmured, his voice husky with desire.
"Say the words," you said, your eyes locked on his. "Tell me,"
He leaned down, his breath warm on your neck.
"I love you," he whispered, nipping at your skin, causing goosebumps to spread across your flesh. "I love everything about you,"
"I love you too," you said softly, a shiver running through your body.
He slowly eased himself inside of you, his eyes closed, his lips parted in pleasure. You pulled his face to yours, kissing him hungrily, your tongue dancing with his. He rocked his hips, building a slow, steady rhythm, making love to you.
He cupped your face, his gaze locking with yours, filled with adoration. You reached up, tracing his face with your fingertips, exploring every line and curve of his handsome features. He lowered his mouth to yours, his kiss deep and passionate, his body moving against yours.
You wrapped your arms around his neck, his skin hot under your hands. Elijah gazed down at you, his eyes filled with hunger. He buried his face in your neck, his breath ragged, his fangs scraping your skin.
"Take what you need," you breathed, tilting your head back, exposing your neck.
Elijah growled, sinking his teeth into your flesh. You gasped, a wave of pleasure coursing through your body. You held him tighter, your nails digging into his skin. He lapped at your neck, your blood coating his tongue, sweet and intoxicating.
His pace increased, thrusting deeper, his hand on your thigh, angling you for better access. He groaned, his cock throbbing inside you, his release approaching.
You tangled your fingers in his hair, keeping his head against your neck. Your body started to tense, every nerve ending lighting up, the sweet ache building.
He pulled back and pressed his lips to yours, his kiss possessive, his tongue demanding. You responded in kind, matching his intensity. You were his, he was yours, nothing was going to come between you. He bit down on his lip, the taste of his blood spreading on your tongue.
You felt all the pain in your body start to melt away, a tingling sensation flowing through your veins. You moaned, your hips grinding against his, searching for relief. He held you close, his movements becoming more erratic, chasing his own release.
He shuddered, gripping your hips, his thrusts slowing down. He brought his mouth down to yours again, kissing you with more passion than you have ever experienced. You both came at the same time, the feeling of pure ecstasy washing over the two of you. You held him tightly, your hearts beating in sync.
The two of you spent the rest of the night making love, his hands roaming your body, his lips against yours, his words of adoration spilling out of him. You forgot about everything but him, losing yourself in his touch.
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Life at the compound became peaceful, a stark contrast to the constant pain and torment of your former life. Elijah doted on you, taking care of your every need. You often caught him watching you, his gaze filled with love and affection. You had never felt more secure, more loved. But as the days turned into weeks, you were continually plagued by nightmares.
It was the same nightmare, the one where Jordan's hands were around your throat. Every night, you relived the terror, his eyes filled with rage, ripping at your clothes like a feral beast. You screamed, your voice raw and broken, but no one was there to help you. You were trapped in your own mind, reliving the worst moment of your life, the fear gripping you.
You would wake up gasping for air, tears streaming down your face, Elijah holding you tightly, whispering words of comfort.
As time passed, the nightmares lessened, but the damage was done. You began to withdraw, pulling away from Elijah. You had tried so hard to forget about the assault, to put it behind you, but you couldn't. The memory was like a knife, twisting in your gut, bringing you down, the pain never-ending.
You knew what you had to do; it was the only way to move forward. But you didn't want to have that conversation with Elijah, afraid he wouldn't understand.
"You seem troubled," Elijah said, sitting next to you on the couch, his arm around you.
You were curled up in his embrace, your head on his shoulder, his scent surrounding you. You wished you could stay like this forever, safe in his arms.
"There's something I need to tell you," you murmured, swallowing the lump in your throat.
"Anything," he said, his voice calm and reassuring.
You closed your eyes, letting out a deep breath.
"I need to leave New Orleans," you blurted out, glancing down. "Somewhere far away, like, Europe far."
Elijah was silent for a moment, his expression unreadable.
"I see," he said quietly, his voice strained.
You glanced at him, tears filling your eyes.
"I just can't keep living like this... with ghosts of the past haunting me," you said softly. "I can't keep having the same nightmares."
Elijah looked down at you, his eyes filled with pain and understanding.
"If that is what you need to do, then I will support you," he said, his hand reaching up and brushing away a stray tear.
"I'm not asking you to come with me; I would never want to make you choose between me and your family," you said, reaching out and holding his hand.
"I would choose you," he said, his gaze intense, his hand squeezing yours. "But I understand why you need to do this alone."
"I'm sorry," you choked out, fresh tears streaming down your face.
Elijah pulled you into his lap, wrapping his arms around you, his body warm and comforting. You clung to him, sobbing, the grief pouring out of you.
"Since the moment I laid my eyes on you, I just wanted you to be happy," he murmured, kissing the top of your head. "That is all I ever wanted."
You chuckled through your tears, "you mean when I was giving you a lap dance?" You teased, sniffling.
Elijah let out a low laugh, "Well, perhaps a bit later than that," he admitted, smiling.
You buried your face in his chest, the sound of his heartbeat calming you.
"I will miss you," you whispered.
"And I, you," he said, his arms tightening around you.
You sat there for a while, wrapped in each other's embrace, neither of you wanting to let go. But eventually, the moment passed and reality set in.
You would be leaving New Orleans, and Elijah, in search of a new life, a new start.
It was time to say goodbye.
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The airport was bustling, the sound of people talking and rushing about filling the air. You clutched your carry-on bag, your stomach twisting into knots. You glanced at the clock, the time ticking closer to your flight. Elijah was standing beside you, his gaze fixed on the floor, his hands shoved into his pockets.
You had spent the last few days in bed together, the two of you memorizing each other's bodies. It was bittersweet, the time passing too quickly. Now, you were standing in the airport, the moment of goodbye looming.
"I'm not good at goodbyes," you confessed, shifting your weight from one foot to the other.
"Neither am I," Elijah said, a small smile on his face.
"Will you promise to call me every day?" You asked, tears filling your eyes.
He didn't respond, just pulled you close to him, his arms wrapping around you. You melted into his embrace, not wanting to let go.
"I have one last gift for you," he murmured, pulling away slightly, his hands still on your shoulders.
You looked at him, confused. His expression one of pure turmoil, his brow furrowed, his lips pressed into a thin line.
"What is it?" You asked, tilting your head.
His eyes met yours, the intensity of his gaze sending a shiver down your spine. He reached up and gently stroked your cheek, his touch soft and reassuring.
"You will no longer remember all the pain you endured in this city, anything to do with the club, Jordan, and your time with me," he said, his voice strained.
"You will be happy, you will be free, unburdened by the darkness of your past," he said, his eyes watering. "I want you to live, and thrive, and find love again."
"Elijah..." you whispered, his name catching in your throat, his name sounding strange to your ears.
"You will forgive yourself, you will know you did all you could to escape," he said, his voice hoarse, the tendons in his neck taut with emotion. "Goodbye, my love."
You felt a strange shift in your mind, your memories dissolving, like water slipping through your fingers. The pain you had endured, the trauma, the love and loss, all of it fading into the ether. Replaced with a lightness, enduring hope, a blank canvas.
You blinked, a sense of calm washing over you, and you picked up your bags and walked towards the security gate. A part of you knew something was missing, that a chapter of your life was gone. But the details eluded you. You didn't know why, but you had a strong urge to never return, to start a new life, far away from the past.
And so, you did.
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~Epilogue
It had been about a year since you moved to Italy, and life had been good to you. You got a job working at a local bakery and found yourself happily settled in. You enrolled at the local university and were working towards getting your degree. You had made a lot of new friends, and life was good.
You were sitting in the café across from the university, enjoying a cup of coffee and catching up on some reading. You glanced at the clock, realizing that it was getting late, and you needed to head home. You gathered up your things and headed out, the sun warming your skin as you walked along the cobblestone streets.
As you rounded the corner, you ran full-on into a man, your books falling from your arms. You scrambled to pick them up, your face reddening with embarrassment.
"Pardon me," the man said, helping you gather up your books.
"It's alright, I wasn't looking where I was going," you said, looking up to thank the stranger.
He was handsome, with his dark hair and soft eyes, his expression gentle. He watched you with interest; something about you intrigued him. He stood there for a moment, his eyes searching yours. You smiled shyly, holding his gaze.
"Elijah," he said, reaching his hand out, his eyes crinkling.
"Y/n," you said, returning the smile and taking his hand, feeling your cheeks flush again.
"You seem happy, are you happy?" he asked, a hint of a smile on his face.
"Um, yes, actually," you replied, raising an eyebrow. "Why do you ask?"
"No reason, I just wondered," he said, scratching the back of his neck.
You giggled, tilting your head to the side, eyeing him curiously.
"Do I know you?" you asked, a slight pang in your heart.
You didn't recognize him, but there was something familiar about him, something that tugged at you, longing settling in. He gave a half-smile, shoving his hands in his pockets.
"Can I buy you a drink?" He asked, his gaze playful, inviting.
He had this way about him that made you want to be around him; it was comfortable, easy.
"Sure," you agreed, "but only because you're hot."
He laughed at your joke, his eyes sparkling, making you feel all warm inside.
You spent the night telling him all about your life, your dreams, and aspirations. He listened intently, his eyes locked on yours. He asked you a thousand questions about yourself, seeming genuinely interested in everything you had to say. He spoke very little about himself, preferring to listen and learn. You sensed there was much more to him than he let on.
After a couple of hours, you headed back home, walking with him to your apartment. He leaned down and kissed your cheek, his lips lingering for a moment.
"It was nice to meet you, Y/n," he murmured.
He pulled back, his eyes warm, a smile tugging at his lips.
"It was nice to meet you too, Elijah," you said, smiling back. "We should do this again sometime."
"Unfortunately, I'm heading back home to New Orleans tomorrow," Elijah said, dropping his gaze to the ground.
"Right, uh, yeah. Well, thanks for the drink and the conversation," you said.
Elijah gave a stiff nod, then hesitated, taking a step closer, his eyes searching yours.
"I'm glad you're happy here," he said, his eyes twinkling. "If you could indulge me for one last moment..."
"Yes?" you said, confused.
His hands cupped your cheeks, tilting your face upwards, his lips pressing against yours. It was a deep, passionate kiss, the kind that shook you to your core, a kiss full of love, full of loss.
He pulled away, his eyes heavy with longing.
Perhaps in another life.
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{Part One} {Part Two} {Part Three}
Thank you so much for reading the Indulgences series! I will now be trying to catch up on some requests ♡♡♡ Love you all,
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